diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 3 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35205-8.txt | 8912 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35205-8.zip | bin | 0 -> 144408 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35205-h.zip | bin | 0 -> 514699 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35205-h/35205-h.htm | 9105 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35205-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 0 -> 158185 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35205-h/images/diagram.jpg | bin | 0 -> 25663 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35205-h/images/front.jpg | bin | 0 -> 179659 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35205.txt | 8912 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 35205.zip | bin | 0 -> 144400 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 |
12 files changed, 26945 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/35205-8.txt b/35205-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..dfae76c --- /dev/null +++ b/35205-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8912 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Who?, by Elizabeth Kent + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Who? + + +Author: Elizabeth Kent + + + +Release Date: February 7, 2011 [eBook #35205] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WHO?*** + + +E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Mary Meehan, and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made +available by Internet Archive/American Libraries +(http://www.archive.org/details/americana) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 35205-h.htm or 35205-h.zip: + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/35205/35205-h/35205-h.htm) + or + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/35205/35205-h.zip) + + + Images of the original pages are available through + Internet Archive/American Libraries. See + http://www.archive.org/details/whobyelizabethke00kentiala + + + + + +WHO? + +by + +ELIZABETH KENT + +Author of "The House Opposite," etc. + + + + + + + +G. P. Putnam's Sons +New York and London +The Knickerbocker Press +1912 + +Copyright, 1912 +By G. P. Putnam's Sons + +The Knickerbocker Press, New York + + + + +[Illustration: "Here, quick, I hear footsteps on the stairs!" + +From the drawing by John Cassel, (Chapter XX)] + + + + +CONTENTS + + + I. THE WOMAN IN THE COMPARTMENT + + II. "MRS. PETER THOMPKINS" + + III. THE TRIBULATIONS OF A LIAR + + IV. ON THE SCENE OF THE TRAGEDY + + V. THE DETECTIVE DETECTS + + VI. THE MYSTERIOUS MAID + + VII. THE INQUEST + + VIII. LADY UPTON + + IX. THE JEWELS + + X. THE TWO FRENCHMEN + + XI. THE INSPECTOR INTERVIEWS CYRIL + + XII. A PERILOUS VENTURE + + XIII. CAMPBELL REMONSTRATES + + XIV. WHAT IS THE TRUTH? + + XV. FINGER PRINTS IN THE DUST + + XVI. THE STORY OF A WRONG + + XVII. GUY RELENTS + + XVIII. A SLIP OF THE TONGUE + + XIX. AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR + + XX. "I KNOW IT, COUSIN CYRIL" + + XXI. THE TRUTH + + XXII. CAMPBELL RESIGNS + + + + +Who? + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE WOMAN IN THE COMPARTMENT + + +It was six o'clock on a raw October morning, and the cross Channel boat +had just deposited its cargo of pale and dishevelled passengers at +Newhaven. Cyril Crichton, having seen his servant place his bags in a +first-class compartment, gazed gloomily at the scene before him. + +It was the first time in three years that he had set foot on his native +shore and the occasion seemed invested with a certain solemnity. + +"What a mess I have made of my life! Yet God knows I meant well!" He +muttered in his heart. "If I hadn't been such a good-natured ass, I +should never have got into all this trouble. But I won't be made a fool +of any longer. I will consult Campbell as to what--" He paused. It +suddenly occurred to him that he had forgotten to let the latter know of +his impending arrival. "I will send him a wire," he decided. + +The telegraph-office was farther off than he expected, and to Crichton's +disgust, he found it shut. He had forgotten that in well-regulated +England, even matters of life and death have to wait till the offices +open at eight A.M. + +He was still staring at the closed window, when he was startled by the +guard's whistle, and the slamming of the carriage doors. Turning +quickly, he ran back, trying to find his compartment, but it was too +late; the train was already moving. Flinging off a porter's detaining +hand, he jumped on to the foot-board and wrenched open the nearest door. +The impetus flung him headlong into the lap of a lady,--the sole +occupant of the carriage. To his horror and amazement, instead of +listening to his apologies, she uttered a piercing shriek and fell +forward into his arms. For a moment Crichton was too dazed to move. +There he knelt, tightly clasping her limp form and wondering fearfully +what would happen next. At last he managed to pull himself together, and +staggering to his feet, laid her gently on the seat near the window. +Strangely enough, he had had no idea, so far, as to the appearance, or +even the age, of the lady with whom fate had thrown him into such +intimate contact: consequently he now looked at her with considerable +curiosity. Her slight, graceful figure proclaimed her youth, but her +face was completely concealed by a thick, black veil, which prevented +him from so much as guessing the outline of her features. As she +continued to show no sign of returning consciousness, Crichton looked +helplessly around for some means of reviving her. More air was what she +needed; so with much trepidation he decided to unfasten her veil. His +fingers fumbled clumsily over their unaccustomed task, but finally the +last knot was disentangled, the last pin extracted. The unknown proved +to be even younger than he expected, and to possess beauty of the kind +which admits of no discussion. At present, however, it was sadly marred +by a red welt, probably the result of a fall, Crichton decided, which +disfigured her left cheek. A minute before he had been cursing his luck, +which invariably landed him in strange adventures, but at the sight of +her beauty, our hero suddenly ceased to find the situation annoying. His +interest, however, increased his alarm. What if she were dead or dying? +Heart attacks were not uncommon. Bending over her, he laid his hand on +her heart, and as he did so, the long lashes lifted, and a pair of +sapphire blue eyes looked straight into his. Before he had time to move, +she threw out both hands and cried: "Oh, let me go!" + +"Don't be alarmed. Notwithstanding my unceremonious entrance, I assure +you, I am a perfectly respectable member of society. My name is +Crichton." + +The girl staggered to her feet. "Crichton?" she gasped. + +He looked at her in surprise. + +"Yes, Crichton. Do you know any member of my family by any chance? My +cousin, Lord Wilmersley, has a place near here." + +"No," she faltered, "I--I am quite a stranger in this part of the +country." + +He was sure she was lying, but what could be her object in doing so? And +why had his name caused her such alarm? What unpleasant connection could +she possibly have with it? The only male members of his family who bore +it, were, a curate, serving his probation in the East End of London, and +a boy at Eton. + +"That is a pity," he said. "I hoped we might find some mutual friends +who would vouch for my inoffensiveness. I can't tell you how sorry I am +to have given you such a fright. It was unpardonably stupid of me. The +fact is, I am rather absent-minded, and I should have been left behind +if I had not tumbled in on you as I did. Please forgive me." + +"On the contrary, it is I who should apologise to you for having made +such a fuss about nothing. You must have thought me quite mad." She +laughed nervously. + +"Madam," he replied, with mock solemnity, "I assure you I never for a +moment doubted your sanity, and I am an expert in such matters." + +"Are you really?" She shrank farther from him. + +"Really what?" he inquired, considerably puzzled. + +"A--a brain specialist? That is what they are called, isn't it?" + +He laughed heartily. + +"No, indeed. But you said----" + +"Of course! How stupid of me!" + +"Why should you know that I am a soldier?" + +She blushed vividly. "You don't look like a civilian." + +"At all events I hope I don't look like the keeper of an insane asylum." + +"No, indeed. But you said----" + +"Oh, as to being an expert. Was that it? I must plead guilty to having +attempted a feeble joke, though as a matter of fact, it so happened that +I do know something about lunatics." + +"Aren't you dreadfully afraid of them?" + +"On general principles, of course, I am afraid of nothing, but I fancy a +full-grown lunatic, with a carving knife and a hankering for my blood, +would have a different tale to tell." + +"Oh, don't speak of them!" She covered her eyes with her hands. + +"I beg your pardon." + +"Why should you beg my pardon?" she asked looking at him suspiciously. + +"I really don't know," he acknowledged. + +"I know that I am behaving like a hysterical schoolgirl. What must you +think of me! But,--but I am just recovering from an illness and am still +very nervous, and the mere mention of lunatics always upsets me. I have +the greatest horror of them." + +"Poor child, she must have been through some terrible experience with +one," thought Crichton. + +"I trust you may never meet any," he said aloud. + +"I don't intend to." She spoke with unexpected vehemence. + +"Well, there is not much chance of your doing so. Certified lunatics +find it pretty difficult to mingle in general society." + +"I know--oh, I know--" Her voice sounded almost regretful. + +What an extraordinary girl! Could it be--was it possible that she +herself--but no, her behaviour was certainly strange and she seemed +hysterical, but mad--no, and yet that would explain everything. + +"I am sure it was the horrid crossing which upset you--as much as +anything else," he said. + +"I didn't cross, I--" She stopped abruptly, and bit her lip. + +It was quite obvious that for some reason or other, she had not wished +him to know that she had got in at Newhaven. He knew that politeness +demanded he should not pursue a subject which was evidently distasteful +to her. But his curiosity overcame his scruples. + +"Really? It is rather unusual to take this train unless one is coming +from the continent." + +"Yes. One has to start so frightfully early. I had to get up a little +before five." That meant she must live in Newhaven, and not far from the +station at that--but was it true? She had about her that indescribable +something which only those possess whose social position has never been +questioned. No, Newhaven did not seem the background for her. But then, +had she not herself told him that she did not live there? She might have +gone there on an errand of charity or--After all, what business was it +of his? Why should he attempt to pry into her life? It was abominable. + +She settled herself in a corner of the carriage, and he fancied that she +wished to avoid further conversation. Serve him jolly well right, he +thought. + +During the rest of the journey his behaviour was almost ostentatiously +discreet. If she feared that he was likely to take advantage of the +situation, he was determined to show her that he had no intention of +doing so. To avoid staring at her he kept his eyes fixed on the rapidly +changing landscape; but they might have been suddenly transported to +China without his observing the difference. In fact, he had not realised +that they were nearing their destination, till he saw his companion +readjust her veil. A few minutes later the train stopped at Hearne Hill. + +Crichton put his head out of the window. + +"There is something up," he said, a moment later turning to her. "There +must be a criminal on board. There are a lot of policemen about, and +they seem to be searching the train." + +"Oh, what shall I do!" she cried, starting to her feet. + +"What is the matter?" + +"They will shut me up. Oh, save me--save me!" + +For a moment he was too startled to speak. + +Was it possible? This girl a criminal--a thief? He couldn't believe it. + +"But what have you done?" + +"Nothing, nothing I assure you. Oh, believe me, it is all a mistake." + +He looked at her again. Innocent or guilty, he would stand by her. + +"They will be here directly," he said. "Have you enough self-control to +remain perfectly calm and to back up any story I tell?" + +"Yes." + +"Sit down then, and appear to be talking to me." + +"Tickets, please." The guard was at the door, and behind him stood a +police inspector. + +Crichton having given up his ticket, turned to the girl and said: "You +have your ticket, Amy." + +She handed it over. + +"From Newhaven, I see." The inspector stepped forward: + +"I must ask the lady to lift 'er veil, please." + +"What do you mean, my man? Are you drunk? + +"Steady, sir. Do you know this lady?" + +"This lady happens to be my wife, so you will kindly explain your +extraordinary behaviour." + +The inspector looked a little nonplussed. + +"Sorry to hinconvenience you, sir, but we 'ave orders to search this +train for a young lady who got in at Newhaven. Now this is the only lady +on board whose ticket was not taken in Paris. So you see we have got to +make sure that this is not the person we want." + +"But, man alive, I tell you this lady is my wife." + +"So you say, sir, but you can't prove it, can you, now? You're +registered through from Paris, and this lady gets in at Newhaven. How do +you explain that?" + +"Of course, one doesn't travel about with one's marriage +certificate--but as it happens, I can prove that this lady is my wife. +Here is my passport; kindly examine it. Mrs. Crichton returned to +England several months ago, and went down to Newhaven last night so as +to be able to meet me this morning. As to lifting her veil, of course +she has no objection to doing so. I thought it idle curiosity on your +part, but as it is a question of duty, that alters the case completely." + +"Thank you, sir." The inspector opened the passport and read aloud. +"Cyril Crichton--Lieutenant in the--Rifles, age 27 years, height 6 ft., +1 inch, weight 12 stone. Hair--fair; complexion--fair, inclined to be +ruddy. Eyes--blue. Nose--straight, rather short. Mouth--large. +Distinguishing marks: cleft in chin." And as he read each item, he +paused to compare the written description with the original. + +"Well, that's all right," he said. "And now for the lady's. Will you +kindly lift your veil, m'm?" + +To Crichton's surprise, the girl did so quite calmly, and her face, +although deadly pale, was perfectly composed. + +The inspector read: "Amy Crichton, wife of Cyril Crichton, age--26 +years--H'm that seems a bit old for the lady." + +The girl blushed vividly, but to Crichton's infinite relief she smiled +gaily, and with a slight bow to the inspector said: "You flatter me." + +Crichton breathed more freely. Her manner had done more to relieve the +situation than anything he had said. The inspector continued in quite a +different tone. + +"'Height--5 ft., 4 inches.' You look a bit shorter than that." + +"Measure me, if you doubt it." She challenged him. + +"Oh, well, I am sure it is all right. 'Weight--9 stone, 4 lbs.'" He +paused again, but this time made no comment, although Crichton felt sure +that his companion weighed at least ten pounds less than the amount +mentioned. "Hair--black. Complexion--fair. Eyes--blue. Nose--straight. +Mouth--small. Oval chin. Distinguishing marks--none. All right, m'm! +Sorry to 'ave disturbed you, but you understand we 'ave got to be very +careful. We'd never 'ear the last of it if we let the party we're after +slip through our fingers." + +"What is the woman you are looking for accused of?" asked Crichton. + +"Murder," replied the inspector, as he closed the door. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +"MRS. PETER THOMPKINS" + + +"Murder!" + +Crichton looked at the girl. Her eyes were closed and she lay back +breathing heavily. He did not know if she had even heard the accusation. +Luckily the train was already moving. In a few minutes, however, they +would be in London and then what should he do with her? Now that he had +declared her to be his wife, it would arouse the suspicion of the police +if he parted from her at the station. Besides, he could not desert the +poor child in her terrible predicament. For she was innocent, he was +sure of that. But here he was wasting precious time worrying about the +future, when he ought to be doing something to revive her. It was simply +imperative that she should be able to leave the train without exciting +remark, as, once outside the station, the immediate danger would be +over. His ministrations, however, were quite ineffectual, and, to his +dismay, the train came to a standstill before she showed a sign of +returning consciousness. + +A porter opened the door. + +"Bring a glass of water; the lady has fainted," he ordered. The porter +returned in a few minutes followed by the police inspector. Crichton's +heart sank. He fancied the latter eyed them with reawakened suspicion. +As he knelt by the girl's side, her head on his shoulder, his arms +around her, he suddenly became aware that a number of people had +collected near the door and were watching the scene with unconcealed +interest And among them stood Peter, his valet, staring at him with +open-mouthed amazement. + +Damn! He had completely forgotten him. If he didn't look out, the fellow +would be sure to give the situation away. + +"Peter," he called. + +Peter elbowed his way through the crowd. + +"Your mistress has fainted. Get my flask." Crichton spoke slowly and +distinctly and looked Peter commandingly in the eye. Would he +understand? Would he hold his tongue? Crichton watched him breathlessly. +For a moment Peter blinked at him uncomprehendingly. Then the surprise +slowly faded from his face, leaving it as stolid as usual. + +"Very well, sir," was all he said as he went off automatically to do his +master's bidding. An order has a wonderfully steadying effect on a +well-trained servant. + +The brandy having been brought, Crichton tried to force a few drops of +it between the girl's clenched teeth. After a few minutes, however, he +had to abandon the attempt. + +The situation was desperate. + +The inspector stepped forward. + +"Don't you think, sir, you ought to send for a doctor? The lady looks +bad and she can't stay here, you know. The train has to be backed out in +a few minutes. We'll carry her to the waiting-room if you wish, or come +to think of it, hadn't you better call an ambulance? Then you could take +the lady home and the doctor who comes with them things would know what +to do for her." + +Crichton almost gasped with relief. + +"An ambulance! The very thing. Get one immediately!" + +The last passenger was just leaving the station when the ambulance +clattered up. + +The doctor, although hardly more than a boy, seemed to know his +business, and after examining the girl and asking a few questions, he +proceeded to administer various remedies, which he took out of a bag he +carried. + +"I am afraid this case is too serious for me," he said at last. + +"What is the trouble?" + +"Of course, I can't speak with any certainty, but from what you tell me, +I think the lady is in for an attack of brain fever." + +Crichton felt _his_ brain reel. + +"What shall I do?" + +"We will take her home and in the meantime telephone to whatever doctor +you wish to have called, so that he can see the patient as soon as +possible." + +"I have no house in town. I was going into lodgings but I can't take an +invalid there." + +"Of course not! What do you say to taking her at once to a nursing +home?" + +"Yes, that would be best. Which one would you recommend? I am ignorant +of such matters." + +"Well--Dr. Stuart-Smith has one not far from here. You know him by +reputation, don't you?" + +"Certainly. All right, take her there." + +"I had better telephone and prepare them for our arrival. What is the +lady's name, please?" + +The inspector's eyes were upon him; Peter was at his elbow. Well--there +was no help for it. + +"Mrs. Cyril Crichton," he said. + +The doctor returned in a few minutes. + +"It is all right. They have got a room and Doctor Smith will be there +almost as soon as we are." + +Having lifted her into the ambulance, the doctor turned to Cyril and +said: "I suppose you prefer to accompany Mrs. Crichton. You can get in, +in front." + +Crichton meekly obeyed. + +"Take my things to the lodgings and wait for me there, and by the way, +be sure to telephone at once to Mr. Campbell and tell him I must see him +immediately," he called to Peter as they drove off. + +They had apparently got rid of the police--that was something at all +events. His own position, however, caused him the gravest concern. It +was not only compromising but supremely ridiculous. He must extricate +himself from it at once. His only chance, he decided, lay in confiding +the truth to Dr. Smith. Great physicians have necessarily an enormous +knowledge of life and therefore he would be better able than any other +man to understand the situation and advise him as to what should be +done. At all events the etiquette of his calling would prevent a doctor +from divulging a professional secret, even in the case of his failing to +sympathise with his, Cyril's, knight-errantry. Crichton heaved a sigh of +satisfaction. His troubles, he foresaw, would soon be over. + +The ambulance stopped. The girl was carried into the house and taken +possession of by an efficient-looking nurse, and Cyril was requested to +wait in the reception-room while she was being put to bed. Dr. Smith, he +was told, would communicate with him as soon as he had examined the +patient. + +Crichton paced the room in feverish impatience. His doubts revived. What +if the doctor should refuse to keep her? Again and again he rehearsed +what he intended to say to him, but the oftener he did so, the more +incredible did his story appear. It also occurred to him that a +physician might not feel himself bound to secrecy when it was a question +of concealing facts other than those relating to a patient's physical +condition. What if the doctor should consider it his duty to inform the +police of her whereabouts? + +At last the door opened. Dr. Smith proved to be a short, grey-haired man +with piercing, black eyes under beetling, black brows, large nose, and a +long upper lip. Cyril's heart sank. The doctor did not look as if he +would be likely to sympathise with his adventure. + +"Mr. Crichton, I believe." The little man spoke quite fiercely and +regarded our friend with evident disfavour. + +Crichton was for a moment nonplussed. What had he done to be addressed +in such a fashion? + +"I hope you can give me good news of the patient?" he said, disregarding +the other's manner. + +"No," snapped out the doctor. "Mrs. Crichton is very seriously, not to +say dangerously, ill." + +What an extraordinary way of announcing a wife's illness to a supposed +husband! Was every one mad to-day? + +"I am awfully sorry--" began Crichton. + +"Oh, you are, are you?" interrupted the doctor, and this time there +could be no doubt he was intentionally insulting. "Will you then be kind +enough to explain how your wife happens to be in the condition she is?" + +"What condition?" faltered Cyril. + +"Tut, man, don't pretend to be ignorant. Remember I am a doctor and can +testify to the facts; yes, facts," he almost shouted. + +Poor Crichton sat down abruptly. He really felt he could bear no more. + +"For God's sake, doctor, tell me what is the matter with her. I swear I +haven't the faintest idea." + +His distress was so evidently genuine that the doctor relaxed a little +and looked at him searchingly for a moment. + +"Your wife has been recently flogged!" + +"Flogged! How awful! But I can't believe it." + +"Indeed!" + +"Certainly not. You must be mistaken. The bruises may be the result of a +fall." + +"They are not," snapped the doctor. + +"Flogged! here in England, in the twentieth century! But who could have +done such a thing?" + +"That is for you to explain, and I must warn you that unless your +explanation is unexpectedly satisfactory, I shall at once notify the +police." + +Police! Crichton wiped beads of perspiration from his forehead. + +"But, doctor, I know no more about it than you do." + +"So you think that it will be sufficient for you to deny all knowledge +as to how, where, and by whom a woman who is your wife--yes, sir--your +wife, has been maltreated? Man, do you take me for a fool?" + +What should he do? Was this the moment to tell him the truth? No, it +would be useless. The doctor, believing him to be a brute, was not in a +frame of mind to attach credence to his story. The truth was too +improbable, a convincing lie could alone save the situation. + +"My wife and I have not been living together lately," he stammered. + +"Indeed!" The piercing eyes seemed to grow more piercing, the long upper +lip to become longer. + +"Yes," Crichton hesitated--it is so difficult to invent a plausible +story on the spur of the moment. "In fact, I met her quite unexpectedly +in Newhaven." + +"In Newhaven?" + +"Yes. I have just arrived from France," continued Crichton more +fluently. An idea was shaping itself in his mind. "I was most astonished +to meet my wife in England as I had been looking for her in Paris for +the last week." + +"I don't understand." + +"My wife is unfortunately mentally unbalanced. For the last few months +she has been confined in an asylum." Crichton spoke with increasing +assurance. + +"Where was this asylum?" + +"In France." + +"Yes, but where? France is a big place." + +"It is called Charleroi and is about thirty miles from Paris in the +direction of Fontainebleau." + +"Who is the director of this institution?" + +"Dr. Leon Monet." + +"And you suggest that it was there that she was ill-treated. Let me tell +you----" + +Cyril interrupted him. + +"I suggest no such thing. My wife escaped from Charleroi over a week +ago. We know she went to Paris, but there we lost all trace of her. +Imagine my astonishment at finding her on the train this morning. How +she got there, I can't think. She seemed very much agitated, but I +attributed that to my presence. I have lately had a most unfortunate +effect upon her. I did ask her how she got the bruise on her cheek, but +she wouldn't tell me. I had no idea she was suffering. If I had been +guilty of the condition she is in, is it likely that I should have +brought her to a man of your reputation and character? I think that +alone proves my innocence." + +The doctor stared at him fixedly for a few moments as if weighing the +credibility of his explanation. + +"You say that the physician under whose care your wife has been is +called Monet?" + +"Yes, Leon Monet." + +The doctor left the room abruptly. When he returned, his bearing had +completely changed. + +"I have just verified your statement in a French medical directory and I +must apologise to you for having jumped at conclusions in the way I did. +Pray, forgive me----" + +Crichton bowed rather distantly. He didn't feel over-kindly to the man +who had forced him into such a quagmire of lies. + +"Now as to--" Cyril hesitated a moment; he detested calling the girl by +his name. "Now--as to--to--the patient. Have you any idea when she is +likely to recover consciousness?" + +"Not the faintest. Of course, what you tell me of her mental condition +increases the seriousness of the case. With hysterical cases anything +and everything is possible." + +"But you do not fear the--worst." + +"Certainly not. She is young. She will receive the best of care. I see +no reason why she should not recover. Now if you would like to remain +near her----" + +There seemed a conspiracy to keep him forever at the girl's side, but +this time he meant to break away even if he had to fight for it. + +"I shall, of course, remain near her," Cyril interrupted hastily. "I +have taken lodgings in Half Moon Street and shall stay there till she +has completely recovered. As she has lately shown the most violent +dislike of me, I think I had better not attempt to see her for the +present. Don't you agree with me?" + +"Certainly. I should not permit it under the circumstances." + +"I shall call daily to find out how she is, and if there is any change +in her condition, you will, of course, notify me at once." Crichton took +out a card and scribbled his address on it. "This will always find me. +And now I have a rather delicate request to make. Would you mind not +letting any one know the identity of your patient? You see I have every +hope that she will eventually recover her reason and therefore I wish +her malady to be kept a secret. I have told my friends that my wife is +in the south of France undergoing a species of rest cure." + +"I think you are very wise. I shall not mention her name to any one." + +"But the nurses?" + +"It is a rule of all nursing homes that a patient's name is never to be +mentioned to an outsider. But if you wish to take extra precautions, you +might give her another name while she is here and they need never know +that it is not her own." + +"Thank you. That is just what I should wish." + +"What do you think Mrs. Crichton had better be called?" + +Cyril thought a moment. + +"Mrs. Peter Thompkins, and I will become Mr. Thompkins. Please address +all communications to me under that name; otherwise the truth is sure to +leak out." + +"But how will you arrange to get your mail?" + +"Peter Thompkins is my valet, so that is quite simple." + +"Very well. Good-bye, Mr. Thompkins. I trust I shall soon have a better +report to give you of Mrs. Thompkins." + +A moment later Cyril was in a taxi speeding towards Mayfair, a free +man--for the moment. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE TRIBULATIONS OF A LIAR + + +While Crichton was dressing he glanced from time to time at his valet. +Peter had evidently been deeply shocked by the incident at the railway +station, for the blunt profile, so persistently presented to him, was +austerely remote as well as subtly disapproving. Cyril was fond of the +old man, who had been his father's servant and had known him almost from +his infancy. He felt that he owed him some explanation, particularly as +he had without consulting him made use of his name. + +But what should he say to him? Never before had he so fully realised the +joy, the comfort, the dignity of truth. It was not a virtue he decided; +it was a privilege. If he ever got out of the hole he was in, he meant +to wallow in it for the future. That happy time seemed, however, still +far distant. + +Believing the girl to be innocent, he wanted as few people as possible +to know the nature of the cloud which hung over her. Peter's loyalty, he +knew, he could count on, that had been often and fully proved; but his +discretion was another matter. Peter was no actor. If he had anything to +conceal, even his silence became so portentous of mystery that it could +not fail to arouse the curiosity of the most unsuspicious. No, he must +think of some simple story which would satisfy Peter as to the propriety +of his conduct and yet which, if it leaked out, would not be to the +girl's discredit. + +"You must have been surprised to hear me give my name to the young lady +you saw at the station," he began tentatively. + +"Yes, sir." Peter's expression relaxed. + +"Her story is a very sad one." So much at any rate must be true, thought +poor Cyril with some satisfaction. + +"Yes, sir." Peter was waiting breathlessly for the sequel. + +"I don't feel at liberty to repeat what she told me. You understand +that, don't you?" + +"Certainly, sir," agreed Peter, but his face fell. + +"So all I can tell you is that she was escaping from a brute who +horribly ill-treated her. Of course I offered to help her." + +"Of course," echoed Peter. + +"Unfortunately she was taken ill before she had told me her name or who +the friends were with whom she was seeking refuge. What was I to do? If +the police heard that a young girl had been found unconscious on the +train, the fact would have been advertised far and wide so as to enable +them to establish her identity, in which case the person from whom she +was hiding would have taken possession of her, which he has a legal +right to do--so she gave me to understand." Crichton paused quite out of +breath. He was doing beautifully. Peter was swallowing his tale +unquestionably--and really, you know, for an inexperienced liar that was +a reasonably probable story. "So you see," he continued, "it was +necessary for her to have a name and mine was the only one which would +not provoke further inquiry." + +"Begging your pardon, sir, but I should 'ave thought that Smith or Jones +would 'ave done just as well." + +"Certainly not. The authorities would have wanted further particulars +and would at once have detected the fraud. No one will ever know that I +lent an unfortunate woman for a few hours the protection of my name, and +there is no one who has the right to object to my having done so--except +the young lady herself." + +"Yes, sir, quite so." + +"On the other hand, on account of the position I am in at present, it is +most important that I should do nothing which could by any possibility +be misconstrued." + +"Yes, sir, certainly, sir." + +"And so I told the doctor that the young lady had better not be called +by my name while she is at the home and so--and so--well--in fact--I +gave her yours. I hope you don't mind?" + +"My name?" gasped Peter in a horrified voice. + +"Yes, you see you haven't got a wife, have you?" + +"Certainly not, sir!" + +"So there couldn't be any possible complications in your case." + +"One never can tell, sir--a name's a name and females are sometimes not +over-particular." + +"Don't be an ass! Why, you ought to feel proud to be able to be of use +to a charming lady. Where's your chivalry, Peter?" + +"I don't know, sir, but I do 'ope she's respectable," he answered +miserably. + +"Of course she is. Don't you know a lady when you see one?" + +Peter shook his head tragically. + +"I'm sorry you feel like that about it," said Crichton. "It never +occurred to me you would mind, and I haven't yet told you all. I not +only gave the young lady your name but took it myself." + +"Took my name!" + +"Yes. At the nursing home I am known as Mr. Peter Thompkins. Pray that I +don't disgrace you, Peter." + +"Oh, sir, a false name! If you get found out, they'll never believe you +are hinnocent when you've done a thing like that. Of course, a gentleman +like you hought to know his own business best, but it do seem to me most +awful risky." + +"Well, it's a risk that had to be taken. It was a choice of evils, I +grant you. Hah! I sniff breakfast; the bacon and eggs of my country +await me. I am famishing, and I say, Peter, do try to take a more +cheerful view of this business." + +"I'll try, sir." + +Crichton was still at breakfast when a short, red-haired young man +fairly burst into the room. + +"Guy Campbell!" exclaimed Cyril joyfully. + +"Hullo, old chap, glad to see you," cried the newcomer, pounding Cyril +affectionately on the back. "How goes it? I say, your telephone message +gave me quite a turn. What's up? Have you got into a scrape? You look as +calm as possible." + +"If I look calm, my looks belie me. I assure you I never felt less calm +in my life." + +"What on earth is the matter?" + +"You won't have some breakfast?" + +"Breakfast at half-past eleven! No thank you." + +"Well, then, take a cigarette, pull up that chair to the fire, and +listen--and don't play the fool; this is serious." + +"Fire away." + +"I want your legal advice, Guy, though I suppose you'll tell me I need a +solicitor, not a barrister. I wish to get a divorce." + +"A divorce? Why, Cyril, I am awfully sorry. I had heard that your +marriage hadn't turned out any too well, but I had no idea it was as bad +as that. You have proof, I suppose." + +"Ample." + +"Tell me the particulars. I never have heard anything against your +wife's character." + +"You mean that you have never heard that she was unfaithful to me. Bah, +it makes me sick the way people talk, as if infidelity were the only +vice that damned a woman's character. Guy, her character was rotten +through and through. Her infidelity was simply a minor, though +culminating, expression of it." + +"But how did you come to marry such a person?" + +"You know she was the Chalmerses' governess?" + +"Yes." + +"I had been spending a few weeks with them. Jack, the oldest son, was a +friend of mine and she was the daughter of a brother officer of old +Chalmers's who had died in India, and consequently her position in the +household was different from that of an ordinary governess. I soon got +quite friendly with Amy and her two charges, and we used to rag about +together a good deal. I liked her, but upon my honour I hadn't a thought +of making love to her. Then one day there was an awful row. They accused +her of carrying on a clandestine love affair with Freddy, the second +son, and with drinking on the sly. They had found empty bottles hidden +in her bedroom. She posed as injured innocence--the victim of a vile +plot to get her out of the house--had no money, no friends, no hope of +another situation. I was young; she was pretty. I was dreadfully sorry +for her and so--well, I married her. As the regiment had just been +ordered to South Africa, we went there immediately. We had not been +married a year, however, when I discovered that she was a confirmed +drunkard. I think only the fear of losing her position had kept her +within certain bounds. That necessity removed, she seemed unable to put +any restraint on herself. I doubt if she even tried to do so." + +"Poor Cyril!" + +"Later on I found out that she was taking drugs as well as stimulants. +She would drink herself into a frenzy and then stupefy herself with +opiates. But it is not only weakness I am accusing her of. She was +inherently deceitful and cruel--ah, what is the use of talking about it! +I have been through Hell." + +"You haven't been living together lately, have you?" + +"Well, you see, she was disgracing not only herself but the regiment, +and so it became a question of either leaving the army or getting her to +live somewhere else. So I brought her back to Europe, took a small villa +near Pau, and engaged an efficient nurse-companion to look after her. I +spent my leave with her, but that was all. Last spring, however, she got +so bad that her companion cabled for me. For a few weeks she was +desperately ill, and when she partially recovered, the doctor persuaded +me to send her to a sanitarium for treatment. Charleroi was recommended +to me. It was chiefly celebrated as a lunatic asylum, but it has an +annex where dipsomaniacs and drug fiends are cared for. At first, the +doctor's reports were very discouraging, but lately her improvement is +said to have been quite astonishing, so much so that it was decided that +I should take her away for a little trip. I was on my way to Charleroi, +when the news reached me that Amy had escaped. We soon discovered that +she had fled with a M. de Brissac, who had been discharged as cured the +day before my wife's disappearance. We traced them to within a few miles +of Paris, but there lost track of them. I have, however, engaged a +detective to furnish me with further particulars. I fancy the Frenchman +is keeping out of the way for fear I shall kill him. Bah! Why, I pity +him, that is all! He'll soon find out what that woman is like. He has +given me freedom! Oh, you can't realise what that means to me. I only +wish my father were alive to know that I have this chance of beginning +life over again." + +"I was so sorry to hear of his death. He was always so kind to us boys +when we stayed at Lingwood. I wrote you when I heard the sad news, but +you never answered any of my letters." + +"I know, old chap, but you must forgive me. I have been too +miserable--too ashamed. I only wanted to creep away and to be +forgotten." + +"Your father died in Paris, didn't he?" + +"Yes, luckily I was with him. It was just after I had taken Amy to +Charleroi. He was a broken-hearted man. He never got over the mess I had +made of my life and Wilmersley's marriage was the last straw. He brooded +over it continually." + +"Why had your father been so sure that Lord Wilmersley would never +marry? He was an old bachelor, but not so very old after all. He can't +be more than fifty now." + +"Well, you see, Wilmersley has a bee in his bonnet. His mother was a +Spanish ballet dancer whom my uncle married when he was a mere boy. She +was a dreadful old creature. I remember her distinctly, a great, fat +woman with a big, white face and enormous, glassy, black eyes. I was +awfully afraid of her. She died when Wilmersley was about twenty and my +uncle followed her a few months later. His funeral was hardly over when +my cousin left Geralton and nothing definite was heard of him for almost +twenty-five years. He was supposed to be travelling in the far East, and +from time to time some pretty queer rumours drifted back about him. +Whether they were true or not, I have never known. One day he returned +to Geralton as unexpectedly as he had left it. He sent for me at once. +He has immense family pride--the ballet dancer, I fancy, rankles--and +having decided for some reason or other not to marry, he wished his heir +to cut a dash. He offered me an allowance of £4000 a year, told me to +marry as soon as possible, and sent me home." + +"Well, that was pretty decent of him. You don't seem very grateful." + +"I can't bear him. He's a most repulsive-looking chap, a thorough +Spaniard, with no trace of his father's blood that I can see. And as I +married soon afterwards and my marriage was not to his liking, he +stopped my allowance and swore I should never succeed him if he could +help it. So you see I haven't much reason to be grateful to him." + +"Beastly shame! He married Miss Mannering, Lady Upton's granddaughter, +didn't he?" + +"Yes." + +"She is a little queer, I believe." + +"Really? I didn't know that. I have never seen her, but I hear she is +very pretty. Well, I'm sorry for her, brought up by that old curmudgeon +of a grandmother and married out of the schoolroom to Wilmersley. She +has never had much of a chance, has she?" + +"There are no children as yet?" + +"No." + +"So that now that your father is dead, you are the immediate heir." + +The door was flung open and Peter rushed into the room brandishing a +paper. + +"Oh, sir, it's come at last! I always felt it would!" He stuttered with +excitement. + +"What on earth is the matter with you?" + +"I beg pardon, sir, but I am that hovercome! I heard them crying +'hextras,' so I went out and gets one--just casual-like. Little did I +think what would be in it--and there it was." + +"There was what?" Both men spoke at once, leaning eagerly forward. + +"That Lord Wilmersley is dead; and so, my lord, I wish you much joy and +a long life." + +"This is very sudden," gasped Crichton. "I hadn't heard he was ill. What +did he die of?" + +"'E was murdered, my lord." + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +ON THE SCENE OF THE TRAGEDY + + +"When, how, who did it?" cried Cyril incoherently. "Give me the paper." + +"Murder of Lord Wilmersley--disappearance of Lady Wilmersley," he read. +"Disappearance of Lady Wilmersley," he repeated, as the paper fell from +his limp hand. + +"Here, get your master some whiskey; the shock has been too much for +him," said Camp bell. "Mysterious disappearance of Lady Wilmersley," +murmured Crichton, staring blankly in front of him. + +"Here, drink this, old man; you'll be all right in a moment," said +Campbell, pressing a glass into his hand. + +Cyril emptied it automatically. + +"The deuce take it!" he cried, covering his face with his hands. + +"Shall I read you the particulars?" Campbell asked, taking the paper. +Cyril nodded assent. + +"'The body of Lord Wilmersley was found at seven o'clock this morning +floating in the swimming bath at Geralton. It was at first thought that +death had been caused by drowning, but on examination, a bullet wound +was discovered over the heart. Search for the pistol with which the +crime was committed has so far proved fruitless. The corpse was dressed +in a long, Eastern garment frequently worn by the deceased. Lady +Wilmersley's bedroom, which adjoins the swimming bath, was empty. The +bed had not been slept in. A hurried search of the castle and grounds +was at once made, but no trace of her ladyship has been discovered. It +is feared that she also has been murdered and her body thrown into the +lake, which is only a short distance from the castle. None of her +wearing apparel is missing, even the dress and slippers she wore on the +previous evening were found in a corner of her room. Robbery was +probably the motive of the crime, as a small safe, which stands next to +Lady Wilmersley's bed and contained her jewels, has been rifled. Whoever +did this must, however, have known the combination, as the lock has not +been tampered with. This adds to the mystery of the case. Lady +Wilmersley is said to be mentally unbalanced. Arthur Edward Crichton, +9th Baron Wilmersley, was born--' here follows a history of your family, +Cyril, you don't want to hear that. Well, what do you think of it?" +asked Campbell. + +"It's too horrible! I can't think," said Crichton. + +"I don't believe Lady Wilmersley was murdered," said Campbell. "Why +should a murderer have troubled to remove one body and not the other? +Mark my words, it was his wife who killed Wilmersley and opened the +safe." + +"I don't believe it! I won't believe it!" cried Cyril. "Besides, how +could she have got away without a dress or hat? Remember they make a +point of the fact that none of her clothes are missing." + +"In the first place, you can't believe everything you read in a +newspaper; but even granting the correctness of that statement, what was +there to prevent her having borrowed a dress from one of her maids? She +must have had one, you know." + +"No--no! It can't be, I tell you; I--" Cyril stopped abruptly. + +"What's the matter with you? You look as guilty as though you had killed +him yourself. I can't for the life of me see why you take the thing so +terribly to heart. You didn't like your cousin and from what you +yourself tell me, I fancy he is no great loss to any one, and you don't +know his wife--widow, I mean." + +"It is such a shock," stammered Cyril. + +"Of course it's a shock, but you ought to think of your new duties. You +will have to go to Geralton at once?" + +"Yes, I suppose it will be expected of me," Cyril assented gloomily. +"Peter, pack my things and find out when the next train leaves." + +"Very well, my lord." + +"And Guy, you will come with me, won't you? I really can't face this +business alone. Besides, your legal knowledge may come in useful." + +"I am awfully sorry, but I really can't come to-day. I've got to be in +court this afternoon; but I'll come as soon as I can, if you really want +me." + +"Do!" + +"Of course I want to be of use if I can, but a detective is really what +you need." + +"A detective?" gasped Cyril. + +"Well, why not? Don't look as if I had suggested your hiring a camel!" + +"Yes, of course not--I mean a detective is--would be--in fact--very +useful," stammered Cyril. Why couldn't Guy mind his own business? + +"Why not get one and take him down with you?" persisted Campbell. + +"Oh, no!" Cyril hurriedly objected, "I don't think I had better do that. +They may have one already. Shouldn't like to begin by hurting local +feeling and--and all that, you know." + +"Rot!" + +"At any rate, I'm not going to engage any one till I've looked into the +matter myself," said Cyril. "If I find I need a man, I'll wire." + +Campbell, grumbling about unnecessary delay, let the matter drop. + +Two hours later Cyril was speeding towards Newhaven. + +Huddled in a corner of the railway carriage, he gave himself up to the +gloomiest reflections. Was ever any one pursued by such persistent +ill-luck? It seemed too hard that just as he began to see an end to his +matrimonial troubles, he should have tumbled headlong into this terrible +predicament. From the moment he heard of Lady Wilmersley's disappearance +he had never had the shadow of a doubt but that it was she he had +rescued that morning from the police. What was he going to do, now that +he knew her identity? He must decide on a course of action at once. Wash +his hands of her? No-o. He felt he couldn't do that--at least, not yet. +But unless he immediately and voluntarily confessed the truth, who would +believe him if it ever came to light? If it were discovered that he, the +heir, had helped his cousin's murderess to escape--had posed as her +husband, would any one, would any jury believe that chance alone had +thrown them together? He might prove an alibi, but that would only save +his life--not his honour. He would always be suspected of having +instigated, if not actually committed, the murder. + +If, however, by some miracle the truth did not leak out, what then? It +would mean that from this day forward he would live in constant fear of +detection. The very fact of her secret existence must necessarily poison +his whole life. Lies, lies, lies would be his future portion. Was he +willing to assume such a burden? Was it his duty to take upon himself +the charge of a woman who was after all but a homicidal maniac? But was +she a maniac? Again and again he went over each incident of their +meeting, weighed her every word and action, and again he found it +impossible to believe that her mind was unbalanced. Yet if she was not +insane, what excuse could he find to explain her crime? Provocation? +Yes, she had had that. She had been beaten, flogged. But even so, to +kill! He had once been present when a murderer was sentenced: "To hang +by the neck until you are dead," the words rang in his ears. That small +white neck--no--never. Suddenly he realised that his path was +irrevocably chosen. As long as she needed him, he would protect her to +the uttermost of his ability. Even if his efforts proved futile, even if +he ruined his life without saving hers, he felt he would never regret +his decision. + +"Newhaven." + +It seemed centuries since he had left it that morning. Hiring a fly, he +drove out to Geralton, a distance of nine miles. There the door was +opened by the same butler who had admitted him five years previously. +"It's Mr. Cyril!" he cried, falling back a step. "Why, sir, they all +told us as 'ow you were in South Africa. But I bid you welcome, sir." + +"Thank you. I am glad to see you again." + +"Thank you, sir,--my lord, I mean, and please forgive your being +received like this--but every one is so upset, there's no doing nothing +with nobody. If you will step in 'ere, I'll call Mrs. Eversley, the +'ousekeeper." + +"Is Mrs. Eversley still here? I remember her perfectly. She used to +stuff me with doughnuts when I came here as a boy. Tell her I will see +her presently." + +"Very good, my lord." + +"Now I want to hear all the particulars of the tragedy. The newspaper +account was very meagre." + +"Quite so, my lord," assented the butler. + +"Lady Wilmersley has not been found?" asked Cyril. + +"No, my lord. We've searched for her ladyship 'igh and low. Not a trace +of her. And now every one says as 'ow she did it. But I'll never believe +it--never. A gentle little lady, she was, and so easily frightened! Why, +if my lord so much as looked at her sometimes, she'd fall a trembling, +and 'e always so kind and devoted to 'er. 'E just doted on 'er, 'e did. +I never saw nothing like it." + +"If you don't believe her ladyship guilty, is there any one else you do +suspect?" + +"No, my lord, I can't say as I do." He spoke regretfully. "It was a +burglar, I believe. I think the detective----" + +"What detective?" interrupted Cyril. + +"His name is Judson; 'e comes from London and they say as 'e can find a +murderer just by looking at the chair 'e sat in." + +"Who sent for him? The police?" + +"No, it was Mr. Twombley of Crofton. He said we owed it to 'er ladyship +to hemploy the best talent." + +"Where is the detective now?" + +"'E's in the long drawing-room with Mr. Twombley." + +"Has the inquest been held?" + +"No, the corpse won't be sat on till to-morrow morning." + +"Show me the way to the drawing-room. I don't quite remember it." + +The butler preceded him across the hall and throwing open a door +announced in a loud voice: + +"Lord Wilmersley." + +The effect was electrical. Four men who had been deep in conversation +turned and stared open-mouthed at Cyril, and one of them, a short fat +man in clerical dress, dropped his teacup in his agitation. + +"Who?" bellowed a tall, florid old gentleman. + +The butler, secretly delighted at having produced such a sensation, +closed the door discreetly after him. + +"I don't wonder you are surprised to see me. You thought I was with my +regiment." + +"So you're the little shaver I knew as a boy? Well, you've grown a bit +since then. Hah, hah." Then, recollecting the solemnity of the occasion, +he subdued his voice. "I'm Twombley, friend of your father's, you know, +and this is Mr. James, your vicar, and this is Mr. Tinker, the coroner, +and this is Judson, celebrated detective, you know. I sent for him. Hope +you approve? Terrible business, what?" + +"It has been a great shock to me, and I am very glad to have Judson's +assistance," replied Cyril, casting a searching and apprehensive glance +at the detective. + +He was a small, clean-shaven man with short, grey hair, grey eyebrows, +grey complexion, dressed in a grey tweed suit. His features were +peculiarly indefinite. His half-closed eyes, lying in the shadow of the +overhanging brows, were fringed with light eyelashes and gave no accent +to his expressionless face. + +At all events, thought Cyril, he doesn't look very alarming, but then, +you never can tell. + +"I must condole with you on the unexpected loss of a relative, who was +in every way an honour to his name and his position," said the vicar, +holding out a podgy hand. + +Cyril was so taken aback at this unexpected tribute to his cousin's +memory that he was only able to murmur a discreet "Thank you." + +"The late Lord Wilmersley," said the coroner, "was a most +public-spirited man and is a loss to the county." + +"Quite so, quite so," assented Mr. Twombley. "Gave a good bit to the +hunt, though he never hunted. Pretty decent of him, you know. You hunt, +of course?" + +"I haven't done much of it lately, but I shall certainly do so in +future." + +"Your cousin," interrupted the vicar, "was a man of deep religious +convictions. His long stay in heathen lands had only strengthened his +devotion to the true faith. His pew was never empty and he subscribed +liberally to many charities." + +By Jove, thought poor Cyril, his cousin had evidently been a paragon. It +seemed incredible. + +"I see it will be difficult to fill his place," he said aloud. "But I +will do my best." + +Twombley clapped him heartily on the back. "Oh, you'll do all right, my +boy, and then, you know, you'll open the castle. The place has been like +a prison since Wilmersley's marriage." + +"No one regretted that as much as Lord Wilmersley," said the vicar. "He +often spoke to me about it. But he had the choice between placing Lady +Wilmersley in an institution or turning the castle into an asylum. He +chose the latter alternative, although it was a great sacrifice. I have +rarely known so agreeable a man or one so suited to shine in any +company. It was unpardonable of Lady Upton to have allowed him to marry +without warning him of her granddaughter's condition. But he never had a +word of blame for her." + +"It was certainly a pity he did not have Lady Wilmersley put under +proper restraint. If he had only done so, he would be alive now," said +the coroner. + +"So you believe that she murdered his lordship?" + +"Undoubtedly. Who else could have done it? Who else had a motive for +doing it. My theory is that her ladyship wanted to escape, that his +lordship tried to prevent her, and so she shot him. Don't you agree with +me, Mr. Judson?" + +"It is impossible for me to express an opinion at present. I have not +had time to collect enough data," replied the detective pompously. + +"He puts on such a lot of side, I believe he's an ass," thought Cyril, +heaving a sigh of relief. "But what about the missing jewels?" he said +aloud. "Their disappearance certainly provides a motive for the crime?" + +"Yes, but only Lord and Lady Wilmersley knew the combination of the +safe." + +"Who says so?" + +"All the servants are agreed as to that. Besides, a burglar would hardly +have overlooked the drawers of Lord Wilmersley's desk, which contained +about £300 in notes." + +"The thief may not have got as far as the library. Lady Wilmersley +occupied the blue room, I suppose." + +"Not at all. At the time of his marriage Lord Wilmersley ordered a suite +of rooms on the ground floor prepared for his bride's reception," +replied the vicar. + +"And this swimming-bath? Where is that? There was none when I was here +as a child." + +"No, it was built for Lady Wilmersley and adjoins her private +apartments," said the vicar. + +"But all these rooms are on the ground floor. It must be an easy matter +to enter them. Consequently----" + +"Easy!" interrupted Twombley; "not a bit of it! But come and see for +yourself." + +Crossing the hall they paused at a door. "Now this door and that one +next to it, which is the door of Lady Wilmersley's bedroom," said the +coroner, "are the only ones in this wing which communicate with the rest +of the castle, and both were usually kept locked, not only at night, but +during the daytime. You will please notice, my lord," continued the +coroner, as they entered the library, "that both doors are fitted with +an ingenious device, by means of which they can be bolted and unbolted +from several seats in this room and from the divans in the +swimming-bath. Only in the early morning were the housemaids admitted to +these rooms; after that no one but Mustapha, Lord Wilmersley's Turkish +valet, ever crossed the threshold, unless with his lordship's express +permission." + +Twombley hurried him through the library. + +"You can look this room over later; I want you first to see the +swimming-bath." + +Cyril found himself in an immense and lofty hall, constructed entirely +of white marble and lighted by innumerable jewelled lamps, whose +multi-coloured lights were reflected in the transparent waters of a +pool, from the middle of which rose and splashed a fountain. Divans +covered with soft cushions and several small tables laden with pipes, +_houkahs_, cigarettes, etc., were placed at intervals around the sides +of the bath. On one of the tables, Cyril noticed that two coffee-cups +were still standing and by the side of a divan lay a long Turkish pipe. +The floor was strewn with rare skins. A profusion of tropical plants +imparted a heavy perfume to the air, which was warm and moist. Cyril +blinked his eyes; he felt as if he had suddenly been transported to the +palace of Aladdin. + +"Rum place, what?" said Twombley, looking about him with evident +disfavour. "To be shut in here for three years would be enough to drive +any one crazy, I say." + +"You will notice," said the coroner, "that the only entrance to the bath +is through the library or her ladyship's bedroom. No one could have let +himself down through the skylight, as it is protected by iron bars." + +"I see." + +"It was here and in the library that Lord Wilmersley spent his time, and +it was here in the right-hand corner of the bath that his body was +discovered this morning by one of the housemaids. The spot, as you see, +is exactly opposite her ladyship's door and that door was found open, +just as it stands at present. Now the housemaids swear that they always +found it closed and it is their belief that his lordship used to lock +her ladyship in her rooms before retiring to his own quarters for the +night. At all events they were never allowed to see her ladyship or +enter her apartments unless his lordship or her ladyship's maid was also +present." + +"At about what time is Lord Wilmersley supposed to have been killed?" +asked Cyril after a slight pause. + +"Judging from the condition of the body, the doctor thinks that the +murder was committed between eleven and twelve P.M.," replied the +coroner; "and whoever fired the shot must have stood five or six feet +from Lord Wilmersley; in all probability, therefore, in the doorway of +the bedroom. This is the room. Nothing has been touched, and you see +that neither here nor in the swimming-bath are there signs of a +struggle." + +"The door leading into the hall was found locked?" + +"Yes, my lord." + +"Then how did the house-man enter?" + +"By means of a pass-key." + +"Where does that other door lead to?" asked Cyril, pointing to a door to +his left. + +"Into the sitting-room," replied the coroner, throwing it open. "It was +here, I am told, that Lady Wilmersley usually spent the morning." + +It was a large, pleasant room panelled in white. A few faded pastels of +by-gone beauties ornamented the walls. A gilt cage in which slumbered a +canary hung in one of the windows. Cyril looked eagerly about him for +some traces of its late occupant's personality; but except for a piece +of unfinished needlework, lying on a small table near the fireplace, +there was nothing to betray the owner's taste or occupations. + +"And there is no way out of this room except through the bedroom?" + +"None." + +"No secret door?" + +"No, my lord. Mr. Judson thought of that and has tapped the walls." + +"But the windows?" + +"These windows as well as those in the bedroom are fitted with heavy +iron bars. Look," he said. + +"Who was the last person known to have seen Lord Wilmersley alive?" + +"Mustapha. He carried coffee into the swimming-bath at a quarter past +nine, as was his daily custom." + +"And he noticed nothing unusual?" + +"Nothing. And he swears that in passing out through the library he heard +the bolt click behind him." + +"What sort of a person is Mustapha?" + +"Lord Wilmersley brought him back with him when he returned from the +East. He had the greatest confidence in him," said the vicar. + +"Do you know what his fellow-servants think of him," inquired Cyril, +addressing the coroner. + +"He kept very much to himself. I fancy he is not a favourite, but no one +has actually said anything against him." + +"Insular prejudice!" cried the vicar. "How few of us are able to +overcome our inborn British suspicion of the foreigner!" + +"Now will you examine the library?" asked the coroner. "See, here is his +lordship's desk. There are the drawers in which the £300 were found, and +yet any one could have picked that lock." + +"Where does that door lead to?" + +"Into Lord Wilmersley's bedroom, the window of which is also provided +with iron bars." + +"And that room has no exit but this?" + +"None, my lord. If the murderer came from outside, he must have got in +through one of these windows, which are the only ones in this wing which +have no protection, and this one was found ajar--but it may have been +used only as an exit, not as an entrance." + +Cyril looked out. Even a woman would have no difficulty in jumping to +the ground. + +"But it couldn't have been a burglar," said the vicar, "for what object +could a thief have for destroying a portrait?" + +"Destroying what portrait?" inquired Cyril. + +"Oh, didn't you know that her ladyship's portrait was found cut into +shreds?" said the coroner. + +"And a pair of Lady Wilmersley's scissors lay on the floor in front of +it," added the vicar. + +"Let me see it," cried Cyril. + +Going to a corner of the room the vicar pulled aside a velvet curtain +behind which hung the wreck of a picture. The canvas was slashed from +top to bottom. No trace of the face was left; only a small piece of fair +hair was still distinguishable. + +Cyril grasped Twombley's arm. Fair! And his mysterious _protégée_ was +dark! + +"What--what was the colour of Lady Wilmersley's hair?" He almost +stuttered with excitement. + +"A very pale yellow," replied the coroner. + +"Why do you ask?" inquired the detective. + +For the convenience of my readers I give a diagram of Lord and Lady +Wilmersley's apartments. + +[Illustration: + X. Spot where Lord Wilmersley's body was found. + 1. Doors locked and barred. + 2. Windows all barred. + 3. Window without bars found open. + 4. Library table. + 5. Lady Wilmersley's portrait. + 6. Doors leading to swimming-pool. + 7. Doors leading from hall. + 8. Divans.] + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE DETECTIVE DETECTS + + +"A very pale yellow!" Cyril was dumb-founded. + +Every fact, every inference had seemed to prove beyond the shadow of a +doubt that his _protégée_ and Lady Wilmersley were one and the same +person. Was it possible that she could have worn a wig? No, for he +remembered that in lifting her veil, he had inadvertently pulled her +hair a little and had admired the way it grew on her temples. + +"Why does the colour of her ladyship's hair interest you, my lord?" +again inquired the detective. + +Cyril blushed with confusion as he realised that all three men were +watching him with evident astonishment. What a fool he was not to have +been able to conceal his surprise! What answer could he give them? +However, as it was not his cousin's murderess he was hiding, he felt he +had nothing to fear from the detective, so ignoring him he turned to Mr. +Twombley and said with a forced laugh: + +"I must be losing my mind, for I distinctly remember hearing a friend of +mine rave about Lady Wilmersley's dark beauty." Rather a fishy +explanation, thought poor Cyril; but really his powers of invention were +exhausted. Would it satisfy them? + +He glanced sharply at the detective. The latter was no longer looking at +him, but was contemplating his watch-chain with absorbed attention. + +"Hah, hah! Rather a joke, what?" laughed Twombley. "Never had seen her, +I suppose; no one ever did, you know, except out driving." + +"It was either a silly joke or my memory is in a bad shape," said Cyril. +"Luckily it is a matter of no consequence. What is of vital importance, +however," he continued, turning to the detective, "is that her ladyship +should be secured immediately. No one is safe while she is still at +large." + +"It is unfortunate," replied the detective, "that no photograph of her +ladyship can be found, but we have telegraphed her description all over +the country." + +"What is her description, by the way?" + +"Here it is, my lord," said Judson, handing Cyril a printed sheet. + +"Height, 5 feet 3; weight, about 9 stone 2; hair, very fair, inclined to +be wavy; nose, straight; mouth, small; eyes, blue; face, oval," read +Cyril. "Well, I suppose that will have to do, but of course that +description would fit half the women in England." + +"That's the trouble, my lord." + +"Mr. Twombley, when you said just now that no one knew her, did you mean +that literally?" + +"Nobody in the county did; I'm sure of that." + +"And you, Mr. James? Is it possible that even you never saw her?" + +"I have never spoken to her." + +"Then so far as you know, the only person outside the castle she could +communicate with was the doctor. What sort of a man is he?" + +"What doctor are you speaking of?" inquired the vicar. + +"Why, the doctor who had charge of her case, of course," replied Cyril +impatiently. + +"I never heard of her having a doctor." + +"Do you mean to say that Wilmersley kept her in confinement without +orders from a physician?" + +"No, I suppose not. Of course not. There must have been some one," +faltered the vicar a trifle abashed. + +"You never, however, inquired by what authority he kept his wife shut +up?" + +"I never insulted Lord Wilmersley by questioning the wisdom of his +conduct or the integrity of his motives, and I repeat that there was +undoubtedly some physician in attendance on Lady Wilmersley, only I do +not happen to know who he is." + +"Well, I must clear this matter up at once. Please ring the bell, +Judson." + +A minute later the butler appeared. + +"Who was her ladyship's physician?" demanded Cyril. + +"My lady never 'ad one; leastways not till yesterday." + +"Yesterday?" + +"Yes, my lord, yesterday afternoon two gentlemen drove up in a fly and +one of them says 'is name is Dr. Brown and that 'e was expected, and 'is +lordship said as how I was to show them in here, and so I did." + +"You think they came to see her ladyship?" + +"Yes, my lord, and at dinner her ladyship seemed very much upset. She +didn't eat a morsel, though 'is lordship urged 'er ever so." + +"But why should a doctor's visit upset her ladyship?" + +The butler pursed his lips and looked mysterious. "I can't say, my +lord." + +"Nonsense, you've some idea in your head. Out with it!" + +"Well, my lord, me and Charles, we thought as she was afraid they were +going to lock 'er up." + +Cyril started slightly. + +"Ah! If they had done so long ago!" exclaimed the vicar, clasping his +hands. + +"But, sir, her ladyship wasn't crazy! They all say so, but it isn't +true. Me and Charles 'ave watched 'er at table day in and day out and +we're willing to swear that she isn't any more crazy than--than me! +Please excuse the liberty, but I never thought 'er ladyship was treated +right, I never did." + +"Why, you told me yourself that his lordship was devoted to her." + +"So 'e was, my lord, so 'e was." The man shuffled uneasily. + +"If her ladyship is not insane, why do you think his lordship kept her a +prisoner here?" + +"Well, my lord, some people 'ave thought that it was jealousy as made +him do it." + +"That," exclaimed the vicar, "is a vile calumny, which I have done my +best to refute." + +"So jealousy was the motive generally ascribed to my cousin's treatment +of his wife?" + +"Not generally, far from it; but I regret to say that there are people +who professed to believe it." + +"Did her ladyship have a nurse?" asked Cyril, addressing the butler. + +"No, my lord, only a maid." + +"Mrs. Valdriguez is a very respectable person, my lord." + +"Mrs. What?" demanded Cyril. + +"Mrs. Valdriguez." + +"What a queer name." + +"Perhaps, my lord, I don't pronounce it just right. Mrs. Valdriguez is +Spanish." + +"Indeed!" + +"Yes, my lord, she was here first in the time of Lord Wilmersley's +mother, and 'is lordship brought 'er back again when he returned from +'is 'oneymoon. Lady Wilmersley never left these rooms without 'aving +either 'is lordship, Mustapha, or Valdriguez with 'er." + +"Very good, Douglas, you can go now." + +"A pretty state of things!" cried Cyril when the door closed behind the +butler. "Here in civilised England a poor young creature is kept in +confinement with a Spanish woman and a Turk to watch over her, and no +one thinks of demanding an investigation! It's monstrous!" + +"My boy, you're right. Never liked the man myself--confess it now--but I +didn't know anything against him. Pretty difficult to interfere, what? +Never occurred to me to do so." + +"I am deeply pained by your attitude to your unfortunate cousin, who +paid with his life for his devotion to an afflicted woman. I feel it my +duty to say that your suspicions are unworthy of you. I must go now; I +have some parochial duties to attend to." And with scant ceremony the +vicar stalked out of the room. + +"It's getting late, I see. Must be off too. Can't be late for +dinner--wife, you know. Why don't you come with me--gloomy +here--delighted to put you up. Do come," urged Twombley. + +"Thanks awfully, not to-night. I'm dead beat. It's awfully good of you +to suggest it, though." + +"Not at all; sorry you won't come. See you at the inquest," said +Twombley as he took his departure followed by the coroner. + +Cyril remained where they left him. He was too weary to move. Before him +on the desk lay his cousin's blotter. Its white surface still bore the +impress of the latter's thick, sprawling handwriting. That chair not so +many hours ago had held his unwieldy form. The murdered man's presence +seemed to permeate the room. Cyril shuddered involuntarily. The heavy, +perfume-laden air stifled him. What was that? He could hear nothing but +the tumultuous beating of his own heart. Yet he was sure, warned by some +mysterious instinct, that he was not alone. Behind him stood--something. +He longed to move, but terror riveted him to the spot. A vision of his +cousin's baleful eyes rose before him with horrible vividness. He could +feel their vindictive glare scorching him. Was he going mad? Was he a +coward? No, he must face the--thing--come what might. Throwing back his +head defiantly, he wheeled around--the detective was at his elbow! Cyril +gave a gasp of relief and wiped the tell-tale perspiration from his +forehead. He had completely forgotten the fellow. What a shocking state +his nerves were in! + +"Can you spare me a few minutes, my lord?" Whenever the detective spoke, +Cyril had the curious impression as of a voice issuing from a fog. So +grey, so effaced, so absolutely characterless was the man's exterior! +His voice, on the other hand, was excessively individual. There lurked +in it a suggestion of assertiveness, of aggressiveness even. Cyril was +conscious of a sudden dread of this strong, insistent personality, lying +as it were at ambush within that envelope of a body, that envelope which +he felt he could never penetrate, which gave no indication whether it +concealed a friend or enemy, a saint or villain. + +"I shall not detain you long," Judson added, as Cyril did not answer +immediately. + +"Come into the drawing-room," said Cyril, leading the way there. + +Thank God, he could breathe freely once more, thought Cyril, as he flung +himself into the comfortable depths of a chintz-covered sofa. How +delightfully wholesome and commonplace was this room! The air, a trifle +chill, notwithstanding the coal fire burning on the hearth, was like +balm to his fevered senses. His very soul felt cleansed and refreshed. +He no longer understood the terror which had so lately possessed him. He +looked at Judson. How could he ever have dignified this remarkably +unremarkable little man with his pompous manner into a mysterious and +possibly hostile force. The thing was absurd. + +"Sit down, Judson," said Cyril carelessly. + +"My lord, am I not right in supposing that I am unknown to you? By +reputation, I mean." + +"Quite," Cyril candidly acknowledged. + +"Ah! I thought so. Let me tell you then, my lord, that I am the +receptacle of the secrets of most, if not all, of the aristocracy." + +"Indeed!" said Cyril. I'll take good care, he thought, that mine don't +swell the number. + +"That being the case, it is clear that my reputation for discretion is +unassailable. You see the force of that argument, my lord?" + +"Certainly," replied Cyril wearily. + +"Anything, therefore, which I may discover during the course of this +investigation, you may rest assured will be kept absolutely secret." He +paused a moment. "You can, therefore, confide in me without fear," +continued the detective. + +Cyril was surprised and a little startled. What did the man know? + +"What makes you think I have anything to confide?" he asked. + +"It is quite obvious, my lord, that you are holding something +back--something which would explain your attitude towards Lady +Wilmersley." + +"I don't follow you," replied Cyril, on his guard. + +"You have given every one to understand that you have never seen her +ladyship. You take up a stranger's cause very warmly, my lord." + +"I trust I shall always espouse the cause of every persecuted woman." + +"But how are you sure that she was persecuted? Every one praises his +lordship's devotion to her. He gave her everything she could wish for +except liberty. If she was insane, his conduct deserves great praise." + +"But I am sure she is not." + +"But you yourself urged me to secure her as soon as possible because you +were afraid she might do further harm," Judson reminded him. + +"That was before I heard Douglas's testimony. He has seen her daily for +three years and swears she is sane." + +"And the opinion of an ignorant servant is sufficient to make you +condemn his lordship without further proof?" + +Cyril moved uneasily. + +"If Lady Wilmersley is perfectly sane, it seems to me incredible that +she did not manage to escape years ago. A note dropped out of her +carriage would have brought the whole countryside to her rescue. Why, +she had only to appeal to this very same butler, who is convinced of her +sanity, and Lord Wilmersley could not have prevented her from leaving +the castle. Public opinion would have protected her." + +"That is true," acknowledged Cyril, "but her spirit may have been +broken." + +"What was there to break it? We hear only of his lordship's almost +excessive devotion. No, my lord, I can't help thinking that you are +judging both Lord and Lady Wilmersley by facts of which I am ignorant." + +Cyril did not know what to answer. He had at first championed Lady +Wilmersley because he had believed her to be his _protégée_, but now +that it had been proved that she was not, why was he still convinced +that she had in some way been a victim of her husband's cruelty? He had +to acknowledge that beyond a vague distrust of his cousin he had not +only no adequate reason, but no reason at all, for his suspicions. + +"You are mistaken," he said at last; "I am withholding nothing that +could in any way assist you to unravel this mystery. I confess I neither +liked nor trusted my cousin. I had no special reason. It was simply a +case of Dr. Fell. I know no more than you do of his treatment of her +ladyship. But doesn't the choice of a Turk and a Spaniard as attendants +on Lady Wilmersley seem to you open to criticism?" + +"Not necessarily, my lord. We trust most those we know best. Lord +Wilmersley had spent the greater part of his life with Turks and +Spaniards. It therefore seems to me quite natural that when it came to +selecting guardians for her ladyship, he should have chosen a man and a +woman he had presumably known for some years, whose worth he had proved, +whose fidelity he could rely on." + +"That sounds plausible," agreed Cyril; "still I can't help thinking it +very peculiar, to say the least, that Lady Wilmersley was not under a +doctor's care." + +"Her ladyship may have been too unbalanced to mingle with people, and +yet not in a condition to require medical attention. Such cases are not +uncommon." + +"True, and yet I have a feeling that Douglas was right, when he assured +us that her ladyship is not insane. You discredit his testimony on the +ground that he is an ignorant man. But if a man of sound common-sense +has the opportunity of observing a woman daily during three years, it +seems to me that his opinion cannot be lightly ignored. You never knew +my cousin. Well, I did, and as I said before, he was a man who inspired +me with the profoundest distrust, although I cannot cite one fact to +justify my aversion. I cannot believe that he ever sacrificed himself +for any one and am much more inclined to credit Douglas's suggestion +that it was jealousy which led him to keep her ladyship in such strict +seclusion. But why waste our time in idle conjectures when it is so easy +to find out the truth? Those two doctors who saw her yesterday must be +found. If they are men of good reputation, of course I shall accept +their report as final." + +"Very good, my lord, I will at once have an advertisement inserted in +all the papers asking them to communicate with us. If that does not +fetch them, I shall employ other means of tracing them." + +"Has Lady Upton, her ladyship's grandmother, been heard from?" + +"She wired this morning asking for further particulars. Mr. Twombley +answered her, I believe." + +A slight pause ensued during which Judson watched Cyril as if expecting +him to speak. + +"And you have still nothing to say to me, my lord?" The detective spoke +with evident disappointment. + +"No, what else should I have to say?" replied Cyril with some surprise. + +"That is, of course, for you to judge, my lord." His meaning was +unmistakable. Cyril flushed angrily. Was it possible that the man dared +to doubt his word? Dared to disbelieve his positive assertion that he +knew nothing whatsoever about the murder? The damnable--suddenly he +remembered! Remembered the lies he had been so glibly telling all day. +Why should any one believe him in future? His ignominy was probably +already stamped on his face. + +"I have nothing more to say," replied Cyril in a strangely meek voice. + +"That being the case, I'd better be off," said Judson, rising slowly +from his chair. + +"Where are you going now?" + +"I can't quite tell, my lord. It is my intention to vanish, so to +speak." + +"Vanish." + +"Yes, my lord. I work best in the dark; but you will hear from me as +soon as I have something definite to report." + +"I hope you will be successful," said Cyril. + +"Thank you; I've never failed so far in anything I have undertaken. I +must, however, warn you, my lord, that investigations sometimes lead to +conclusions which no one could have foreseen when they were started. I +always make a point of reminding my employers of this possibility." + +What the devil was the man driving at, thought Cyril; did he suspect him +by any chance? That would be really too absurd! The man was an ass. + +"I shall never quarrel with you for discovering the truth," said Cyril, +drawing himself up to his full height and glaring fiercely down at the +little grey man. Then, turning abruptly on his heel he stalked +indignantly out of the room, slamming the door behind him. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE MYSTERIOUS MAID + + +"My lord." + +Cyril shook himself reluctantly awake. + +"Sorry to disturb you, but this 'as just come," said Peter, holding out +a tray on which lay an opened telegram. His expression was so tragic +that Cyril started up and seized the message. + +It was addressed to Peter Thompkins, Geralton Castle, Newhaven, and +read: "Change for the better. Your presence necessary." Signed, +"Stuart-Smith." + +"Why, that is good news!" cried Cyril greatly relieved. "What are you +pulling such a long face for?" + +"You call it good news that you haven't got rid of that young woman +yet?" exclaimed Peter. "This Stuart-Smith, whoever he may be, who is +wiring you to come to 'er, thinks she's your wife, doesn't he? That was +bad enough when you were just Mr. Crichton, but now it's just hawful. A +Lady Wilmersley can't be hid as a Mrs. Crichton could, begging your +pardon. Oh, it'll all come out, so it will, and you'll be 'ad up for +bigamy, like as not!" Peter almost groaned. + +"Nonsense! As soon as the young lady recovers, she will join her friends +and no one will be any the wiser." + +Peter shook his head incredulously. + +"Well, my lord, let's 'ope so! But what answer am I to send to this +telegram? You can't leave the castle now." + +"It would certainly be inconvenient," agreed his master. + +"If you did, you'd be followed, my lord." + +"What do you mean? The police can't be such fools as all that." + +"'Tisn't the police, my lord. It's those men from the newspapers. The +castle is full of them; they're nosing about heverywhere; there's not +one of us as hasn't been pestered with the fellows. It's what you are +like, what are you doing, what 'ave you done, and a lot more foolish +questions hever since we set foot here yesterday afternoon. And 'we'll +pay you well,' they say. Of course, I've not opened my mouth to them, +but they're that persistent, they'll follow you to the end of the earth +if you should leave the castle unexpectedly." + +This was a complication that had not occurred to Cyril, and yet he felt +he ought to have foreseen it. What was to be done? He couldn't abandon +the girl. Suddenly Stuart-Smith's stern face and uncompromising upper +lip rose vividly before him. Even if he wished to do so, the doctor +would never allow him to ignore his supposed wife. If he did not answer +his summons in person, Smith would certainly put the worst +interpretation on his absence. He would argue that only a brute would +neglect a wife who was lying seriously ill and the fact that the girl +had been flogged could also be remembered against him. Dr. Smith was +capable of taking drastic measures to force him into performing what he +considered the latter's obvious duty. + +Cyril did not know what to do. He had only a choice of evils. If he +went, he would surely be followed and the girl's existence and +hiding-place discovered. That would be fatal not only to him but to her, +for she had feared detection above all things--why, he could not even +surmise--he no longer even cared; but he had promised to protect her and +meant to do so. + +On the other hand, if he did not go, he ran the risk of the doctor's +publishing the girl's whereabouts. Still, it was by no means certain he +would do so, and if he wrote Smith a diplomatic letter, he might succeed +in persuading him that it was best for the girl if he stayed away a day +longer. Yes, that was the thing to do. Hastily throwing on a +dressing-gown, he sat down at the desk. It was a difficult letter to +write and he destroyed many sheets before he was finally satisfied. This +was the result of his efforts: + + "DEAR DR. STUART-SMITH: + + "I am infinitely relieved that your patient is better. As you + addressed your wire here, I gather that you know of the tragic + occurrence, which has kept me from her side. It is impossible + for me to leave before the funeral without explaining my + mission, and this I am very loath to do, as I am more than ever + anxious to keep her malady a secret. Dr. Monet has always + believed in the possibility of a cure, and as long as there is + a chance of that, I am sure you will agree with me that I ought + to make every sacrifice to protect her from gossip. If she did + recover and her illness became known, it would greatly handicap + her in her new life. Having to stay away from her would be even + more distressing to me than it is if I could flatter myself + that my presence would have a good effect upon her. I am sure, + however, that such would not be the case. + + "I shall return to London late to-morrow afternoon and will + telephone you immediately on my arrival. + + "I am sending this by a trustworthy servant, who will bring me + your answer. I am most anxious to hear what you think of your + patient's condition, mentally as well as physically. I am sure + she could not be in better hands." + +Then Cyril hesitated. What should he sign himself? Thompkins? No, he +wished to inspire confidence; his own name would be better. So with a +firm hand he wrote "Wilmersley." + +It was the first time he had used his new signature and he heartily +wished it had not been appended to such a document. + +"Now, Peter," he said, "you must take the next train to London and carry +this to Dr. Stuart-Smith. If he is not at the nursing home, telephone to +his house and find out where he is. The letter must be delivered as soon +as possible and you are to wait for a reply. If the doctor asks you any +questions, answer as briefly as possible. In order to avoid comment you +had better let it be known that you are going up to town to do some +shopping for me. Buy something--anything. I want you also to call at the +lodgings and tell them we shall return to-morrow. If you are followed, +which I can't believe you will be, this will allay suspicion. Take a +taxi and get back as soon as possible. Don't drive directly to the Home. +You may mention to the doctor that I am extremely anxious about Mrs. +Thompkins." + +"Very good, my lord." + +"Throw the sheets I have scribbled on into the fire and the blotting +paper as well," ordered Cyril. + +He felt rather proud of having thought of this detail, but with +detectives and pressmen prowling around he must run no risks. It was +with a very perturbed mind that Cyril finally went down to breakfast. + +"Mrs. Eversley would like to speak to you, my lord, as soon as +convenient," said Douglas as his master rose from the table. Cyril +fancied he detected a gleam of suppressed excitement in the butler's +eye. + +"I'll see her at once," Cyril answered. + +A stout, respectable-looking woman hesitated in the doorway. + +"Come in, Mrs. Eversley," cried Cyril. "I'm glad to see you again. I've +never forgotten you or your doughnuts." + +The troubled face broke into a pleased smile as the woman dropped a +courtesy. + +"It's very kind of you to remember them, my lord, very kind indeed, and +glad I am to see you again." The smile vanished. "This is a terrible +business, my lord." + +"Terrible," assented Cyril. + +"His poor lordship! Mrs. Valdriguez has said for months and months that +something like this was sure to happen some day." + +"Do you mean to say that she prophesied that her ladyship would kill his +lordship?" exclaimed Cyril. + +"Yes, my lord, indeed she did! It made me feel that queer when it really +'appened." + +"I should think so. It's most extraordinary." + +"But begging your pardon, my lord, there is something special as made me +ask to speak to you--something I thought you ought to know immediately." + +"What is it?" Cyril had felt that some new trouble was brewing. + +"One of the servants has disappeared, my lord." + +"Disappeared? How? When?" + +"Perhaps I'm making too much of it, but this murder has that upset me +that I'm afraid of my own shadow and I says to myself, says I: 'Don't +wait; go and tell his lordship at once and he'll know whether it is +important or not.'" + +"You did perfectly right. But who has disappeared?" + +"Priscilla Prentice and perhaps she hasn't disappeared at all. This is +how it is: The day before yesterday----" + +"The day of the murder?" asked Cyril. + +"Yes, my lord. Prentice came to me and asked if she could go to Newhaven +to see a cousin she has there. The cousin is ill--leastways so she told +me--and she wanted as a great favour to be allowed to spend the night +with her, and she promised to come back by the carrier early next +morning. It seemed all right, so I gave her permission and off she goes. +Then yesterday this dreadful thing happened and Prentice went clean out +of my head. I never thought of her again till breakfast this morning +when Mr. Douglas says to me: 'Why, wherever is Miss Prentice?' You could +'ave knocked me down with a feather, I was that taken aback! So I says, +'Whatever can 'ave happened to her?'" + +"When she heard of the murder, she may have taken fright. She may be +waiting to return to the castle till the inquest and funeral are over," +suggested Cyril. + +"Then she ought at least to have sent word. Besides she should have got +back before she could have heard of the murder." + +"You had better send to the cousin's and find out if she is there. She +may have been taken ill and had nobody to send a message by." + +"We none of us know whereabouts this cousin lives, my lord." + +"Newhaven is not a large place. It can't be difficult to find her." + +"But we don't know her name, my lord." + +"That certainly complicates matters. How long has this girl been at the +castle?" + +"Six months, my lord." + +"Who did you get her from?" + +"I advertised for her, my lord. Mrs. Valdriguez's eyes are not what they +were and so she 'ad to have somebody to do the mending. I must say +foreigners sew beautifully, so it was some time before I could get any +one whose work suited Mrs. Valdriguez." + +"What references did the girl give?" + +"It was this way, my lord. She's very young, and this is her first +place. But she was excellently recommended by Mr. Vaughan, vicar of +Plumtree, who wrote that she was a most respectable girl and that he +could vouch for her character. Those are his very words, my lord." + +"That certainly sounded satisfactory." + +"I'm glad you think so, my lord. So she came. Such a nice young woman +she seemed, so 'ard-working and conscientious; one who kept 'erself to +'erself; never a word with the men--never, though she is so pretty." + +"Oh, she is pretty, is she?" A faint but horrible suspicion flashed +through Cyril's mind. + +"Yes, my lord, as pretty as a picture." + +"What does she look like?" + +"She is tall and slight with dark hair and blue eyes," Mrs. Eversley +answered. She was evidently taken aback at her master's interest in a +servant's appearance and a certain reserve crept into her voice. + +"Could she--would it be possible to mistake her for a lady?" stammered +Cyril. + +Mrs. Eversley started. + +"Well, my lord, it's strange you should ask that, for Douglas, he always +has said, 'Mark my words, Miss Prentice isn't what she seems,' and I +must say she is very superior, very." + +It wasn't, it couldn't be possible, thought Cyril; and yet---- + +"Did she see much of her ladyship?" he asked. + +"Lately, Mrs. Valdriguez, seeing as what she was such a quiet girl, has +allowed her to put the things she has mended back into her ladyship's +room, and I know her ladyship has spoken to her, but how often she has +done so I couldn't really say. Prentice didn't talk much." + +"Did she seem much interested in her ladyship?" + +"At first very much so. If we were talking about her ladyship, she would +always stay and listen. Once, when one of the housemaids 'ad said +something about her being crazy, I think, Prentice got quite excited, +and when Mrs. Valdriguez had left the room, she said to me, 'I don't +believe there is anything the matter with her ladyship; I think it just +cruel the way she is kept locked up!' Begging your pardon, my lord, +those were her very words. She made me promise not to repeat what she +had said--least of all to Mrs. Valdriguez, and I never have, not till +this minute." + +"Did she ever suggest that she would like to help her ladyship to +escape?" + +"Why, my lord!" exclaimed Mrs. Eversley, staring at her master in +astonishment. "That's just what she did do, just once--oh, you don't +think she did it! And yet that's what they're all saying----" + +"Is anything missing from her room?" he asked. + +"I can't say, my lord; her trunk is locked and she took a small bag with +her. But there are things in the drawers and a skirt and a pair of shoes +in the wardrobe." + +"From the appearance of the room, therefore, you should judge that she +intended to return?" + +"Ye-es, my lord--and yet I must say, I was surprised to see so few +things about, and the skirt and shoes were very shabby." + +"I suppose that by this time every one knows the girl is missing?" Cyril +asked. + +"The upper servants do, and the detective was after me to tell him all +about her, but I wouldn't say a word till I had asked what your +lordship's wishes are." + +"I thought Judson had left the castle?" + +"So he has, my lord; this is the man from Scotland Yard. Griggs is his +name. He was 'ere before Judson, but he had left the castle before you +arrived." + +Impossible even to attempt, to keep her disappearance a secret, thought +Cyril. After all, perhaps she was not his _protégée_. He was always +jumping at erroneous conclusions, and a description is so misleading. On +the other hand, the combination of black hair and blue eyes was a most +unusual one. Besides, it was already sufficiently remarkable that two +young and beautiful women had fled from Newhaven on the same day (beauty +being alas such a rarity!), but that three should have done so was +well-nigh incredible. But could even the most superior of upper servants +possess that air of breeding which was one of the girl's most noticeable +attributes. It was, of course, within the bounds of possibility that +this maid was well-born and simply forced by poverty into a menial +position. One thing was certain--if his _protégée_ was Priscilla +Prentice, then this girl, in spite of her humble occupation, was a lady, +and consequently more than ever in need of his protection and respect. + +Well, assuming that it was Prentice he had rescued, what part had she +played in the tragedy? Why had she feared arrest? She must have been +present at the murder, but even in that case, why did she not realise +that Lady Wilmersley's unbalanced condition would prevent suspicion from +falling on any one else? The police had never even thought of her! And +where had she hidden her mistress? It was all most mysterious. + +Cyril sat weighing the _pros and cons_ of one theory after another, +completely oblivious of his housekeeper's presence. + +Douglas, entering, discreetly interrupted his cogitations: + +"The inquest is about to begin, my lord." + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE INQUEST + + +On entering the hall Cyril found that a seat on the right hand of the +coroner had been reserved for him, but he chose a secluded corner from +which he could watch the proceedings unobserved. + +On the left of Mr. Tinker sat a tall, imposing-looking man, who, on +inquiry, proved to be Inspector Griggs. + +The first part of the inquest developed nothing new. It was only when +Mustapha stepped forward that Cyril's interest revived and he forgot the +problem of his _protégée's_ identity. + +The Turk, with the exception of a red fez, was dressed as a European, +but his swarthy skin, large, beak-like nose, and deep, sombre eyes, in +which brooded the mystery of the East, proclaimed his nationality. + +Cyril tried in vain to form some estimate of the man's character, to +probe the depths of those fathomless eyes, but ignorant as he was of the +Oriental, he found it impossible to differentiate between Mustapha's +racial and individual characteristics. That he was full of infinite +possibilities was evident--even his calmness was suggestive of potential +passion. A man to be watched, decided Cyril. + +Mustapha gave his testimony in a low, clear voice, and although he spoke +with a strong foreign accent, his English was purer than that of his +fellow servants. + +That he had nothing to do with the murder seemed from the first +conclusively proved. Several of the servants had seen him enter his +room, which adjoined that of the butler, at about half-past nine--that +is to say, an hour and a half before Lord Wilmersley's death could, in +the doctor's opinion, have taken place--and Douglas on cross--reiterated +his conviction that Mustapha could not have left his room without his +having heard him do so, as he, Douglas, was a very light sleeper. + +In answer to questions from the coroner, Mustapha told how he had +entered the late Lord Wilmersley's service some fifteen years +previously, at which time his master owned a house on the outskirts of +Constantinople. As he dressed as a Mussulman and consorted entirely with +the natives, Mustapha did not know that he was a foreigner till his +master informed him of the fact just before leaving Turkey. + +When questioned as to Lady Wilmersley, he was rather non-committal. No, +he had never believed her to be dangerous.--Had she seemed happy? No, +she cried often.--Did his lordship ever ill-treat her? Not that he knew +of. His lordship was very patient with her tears.--Did he know how she +could have obtained a pistol? Yes, there was one concealed on his +master's desk. He had discovered that it was missing.--How could a +pistol lie concealed _on_ a desk? It was hidden inside an ancient steel +gauntlet, ostensibly used as a paperweight. Mustapha had found it one +day quite accidentally.--Did he tell his lordship of his discovery? No. +His master was always afraid of being spied upon.--Why? He did not +know.--Did Mustapha know of any enemy of his lordship who was likely to +have sought such a revenge? No. His master's enemies were not in +England.--Then his lordship had enemies? As all men have, so had +he.--But he had no special enemy? An enemy is an enemy, but his master's +enemies were not near.--How could he be so sure of that? He would have +had word.--How? From whom? From his, Mustapha's friends.--Did his +lordship fear his enemies would follow him to England? At first, +perhaps, but not lately.--If his lordship's enemies had found him, would +they have been likely to kill him? Who can tell? The heart of man is +very evil.--But he knew no one who could have done this thing? No +one.--Did he believe his mistress had done it? Mustapha hesitated for +the first time. "They say so," he finally answered. + +"But you, what do you think?" insisted the coroner. + +"The ways of women are dark." + +"Do you believe her ladyship killed your master--Yes or No?" repeated +the coroner impatiently. + +"It is not for me to say," replied Mustapha with unruffled dignity. + +The coroner, feeling himself rebuked, dismissed the man with a hurried +"That will do." + +Mrs. Valdriguez was next called. + +She was a tall, thin woman between fifty and sixty. Her black hair, +freely sprinkled with silver, was drawn into a tight knot at the back of +her small head. Her pale, haggard face, with its finely-chiselled nose, +thin-lipped mouth, and slightly-retreating chin, was almost beautified +by her large, sunken eyes, which still glowed with extraordinary +brilliancy. Her black dress was austere in its simplicity and she wore +no ornament except a small gold cross suspended on her bosom. + +The woman was obviously nervous. She held her hands tightly clasped in +front of her, and her lips twitched from time to time. She spoke so low +that Cyril had to lean forward to catch her answers, but her English was +perfectly fluent. It was chiefly her accent and intonation which +betrayed her foreign birth. + +"You lived here in the time of the late Lady Wilmersley, did you not?" +began the coroner. + +"Yes, sir." + +"In what capacity?" + +"As lady's maid, sir." + +"When did you leave here, and why?" + +"I left when her ladyship died." + +"Did you return to Spain?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"How did you happen to enter the present Lady Wilmersley's service?" + +"Lord Wilmersley sent for me when he was on his wedding journey." + +"Had you seen him after you left Geralton?" + +"From time to time." + +"Do you know whether his lordship had any enemies?" + +"Not of late years." + +"Then you did know some. Who were they?" + +"Those that he had are either dead or have forgiven," Valdriguez +answered, and as she did so, she fingered the cross on her breast. + +"So that you can think of no one likely to have resorted to such a +terrible revenge?" + +"No one, sir." + +"On the night of the murder you did not assist her ladyship to undress, +so I understand?" + +"I never did. From the time her ladyship left her room to go to dinner I +never saw her again till the following morning." + +"And you noticed nothing unusual that evening?" + +"I can't say that. Her ladyship was very much excited. She cried and +begged me to help her to escape." + +A murmur of excitement ran through the hall. + +"What did you say to her?" + +"I told her that she was his lordship's lawful wife; that she had vowed +before God to honour and obey him in all things." + +"Had she ever made an attempt to escape?" + +"No, sir." + +"Did she ever give you any reason for wishing to do so?" + +"She told me that his lordship threatened to shut her up in a lunatic +asylum, but I assured her he would never do so. He loved her too much." + +"You consider that he was very devoted to her?" + +The woman closed her eyes for a second. + +"He loved her as I have never before known a man love a woman," she +answered, with suppressed vehemence. + +"Why then did he send for the doctors to commit her to an institution?" + +"I do not know." + +At this point of the interrogation Cyril scribbled a few words, which he +gave to one of the footmen to carry to the coroner. When the latter had +read them, he asked: + +"Did you consider her ladyship a dangerous lunatic?" + +"No, sir." + +"Why, then, did you prophesy that she would kill your master?" + +The woman trembled slightly and her hand again sought the cross. + +"I--I believed Lord Wilmersley's time had come, but I knew not how he +would die. I did not know that she would be the instrument--only I +feared it." + +"Why did you think his lordship's days were numbered?" + +"Sir, if I were to tell you my reasons, you would say that they were not +reasons. You would call them superstitions and me a foolish old woman. I +believe what I believe, and you, what you have been taught. God shall +judge. Suffice it, sir, that my reasons for believing that his lordship +would die soon are not such as would appeal to your common-sense." + +"H'm, well--I confess that signs and omens are not much in my line, but +I must really insist upon your giving some explanation as to why you +feared that your mistress would murder Lord Wilmersley." + +The woman's lips twitched convulsively and her eyes glowed with sombre +fire. + +"Because--if you will know it--he loved her more than was natural--he +loved her more than his God; and the Lord God is a jealous God." + +"And this is really your only reason for your extraordinary +supposition?" + +"For me it is enough," she replied. + +"Well, well--very curious indeed!" said the coroner, regarding the woman +intently. + +He paused for a moment. + +"How did you pass the evening of the murder?" he asked. + +"In my room. I had a headache and went early to bed." + +"I suppose somebody saw you after you left Lady Wilmersley's room who +can support your statement?" + +"I do not know. I do not remember seeing any one," answered Valdriguez, +throwing her head back and looking a little defiantly at Mr. Tinker. + +"Ah, really? That is a pity," said the coroner. "However, there is no +reason to doubt your word--as yet," he added. + +Mrs. Eversley was next called. The coroner questioned her exhaustively +as to the missing Priscilla Prentice. He seemed especially anxious to +know whether the girl had owned a bicycle. She had not.--Did she know +how to ride one? Yes, Mrs. Eversley had seen her try one belonging to +the under-housemaid.--Did many of the servants own bicycles? Yes.--Had +one of them been taken? She did not know. + +On further inquiry, however, it was found that all the machines were +accounted for. + +It had not occurred to Cyril to speculate as to how, if Prentice had +really aided her mistress to escape, she had been able to cover the nine +miles which separated the castle from Newhaven. Eighteen miles in one +evening on foot! Not perhaps an impossible feat, but very nearly so, +especially as on her way back she would have been handicapped by Lady +Wilmersley, a delicate woman, quite unaccustomed--at all events during +the last three years--to any form of exercise. + +It was evident, however, that this difficulty had not escaped the +coroner, for all the servants and more especially the gardeners +and under-gardeners were asked if they had seen in any of the +less-frequented paths traces of a carriage or bicycle. But no one had +seen or heard anything suspicious. + +The head gardener and his wife, who lived at the Lodge, swore that the +tall, iron gates had been locked at half-past nine, and that they had +heard no vehicle pass on the highroad during the night. + +At this point in the proceedings whispering was audible in the back of +the hall. The coroner paused to see what was the matter. A moment later +Douglas stepped up to him and said something in a low voice. The coroner +nodded. + +"Mrs. Willis," he called. + +A middle-aged woman, very red in the face, came reluctantly forward. + +"Well, Mrs. Willis, I hear you have something to tell me?" + +"Indeed no, sir," exclaimed the woman, picking nervously at her gloves. +"It is nothing at all. Only when I 'eard you asking about carriages in +the night, I says to Mrs. Jones--well, one passed, I know that. +Leastways, it didn't exactly pass; it stayed." + +"The carriage stayed; where?" + +"It wasn't a carriage." + +"It wasn't a carriage and it stayed? Can't you explain yourself more +clearly, Mrs. Willis? This isn't a conundrum, is it?" + +"It was a car, a motor-car," stammered the woman. + +"A car! And it stopped? Where?" + +"I couldn't say exactly, but not far from our cottage." + +"And where is your cottage?" + +"On the 'ighroad near the long lane." + +"I see." The coroner was obviously excited. "Your husband is one of the +gardeners here, isn't he?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"So there is doubtless a path connecting your cottage with the castle +grounds?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"About how far from your cottage was the car?" + +"I didn't see it, sir; I just 'eard it; but it wasn't far, that I know," +reiterated the woman. + +"Did you hear any one pass through your garden?" + +"No, sir." + +"Could they have done so without your hearing them?" + +"They might." + +"Was the car going to or coming from Newhaven?" + +"It was coming from Newhaven." + +"Then it must have stopped at the foot of the long lane." + +"Yes, sir; that's just about where I thought it was." + +"Is there a path connecting Long Lane with the highroad?" + +"Yes, a narrow one." + +"What time was it when you heard the car? Now try and be very accurate." + +"I wouldn't like to swear, sir, but I think it was between eleven and +twelve." + +"Did your husband hear it also?" + +"No, sir, 'e was fast asleep, but I wasn't feeling very well, so I had +got up thinking I'd make myself a cup of tea, and just then I 'eard a +car come whizzing along, and then there was a bang. Oh, says I, they've +burst their wheel, that's what they've done, me knowing about cars. I +know it takes a bit of mending, a wheel does, so I wasn't surprised when +I 'eard no more of them for a time--and I 'ad just about forgotten all +about them, so I had, when I 'ears them move off." + +"And they did not pass your cottage?" + +"No, sir, I'm sure of that." + +"Did you hear anything else?" + +"Well, sir"--the woman fidgeted uneasily, "I thought--but I shouldn't +like to swear to it--not on the Bible--but I fancied I 'eard a cry." + +"What sort of a cry? Was it a man or a woman's?" + +"I really couldn't say--and perhaps what I 'eard was not a cry at +all----" + +"Well, well--this is most important. A motor-car that is driven at +half-past eleven at night to the foot of a lane which leads nowhere but +to the castle grounds, and then returns in the direction it came +from--very extraordinary--very. We must look into this," exclaimed the +coroner. + +And with this the inquest was adjourned. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +LADY UPTON + + + Dr. Stuart-Smith to Mr. Peter Thompkins, Geralton Castle, + Newhaven. + + "DEAR LORD WILMERSLEY: + + "Lady Wilmersley showed signs of returning consciousness at + half-past five yesterday afternoon. I was at once sent for, but + when I arrived she had fallen asleep. She woke again at nine + o'clock and this time asked where she was. She spoke + indistinctly and did not seem to comprehend what the nurse said + to her. When I reached the patient, I found her sitting up in + bed. Her pulse was irregular; her temperature, subnormal. I am + glad to be able to assure you that Lady Wilmersley is at + present perfectly rational. She is, however, suffering from + hysterical amnesia complicated by aphasia, but I trust this is + only a temporary affection. At first she hesitated over the + simplest words, but before I left she could talk with tolerable + fluency. + + "I asked Lady Wilmersley whether she wished to see you. She has + not only forgotten that she has a husband but has no very clear + idea as to what a husband is. In fact, she appears to have + preserved no precise impression of anything. She did not even + remember her own name. When I told it to her, she said it + sounded familiar, only that she did not associate it with + herself. Of you personally she has no recollection, although I + described you as accurately as I could. However, as your name + is the only thing she even dimly recalls, I hope that when you + see her, you will be able to help her bridge the gulf which + separates her from the past. + + "She seemed distressed at her condition, so I told her that she + had been ill and that it was not uncommon for convalescents to + suffer temporarily from loss of memory. When I left her, she + was perfectly calm. + + "She slept well last night, and this morning she has no + difficulty in expressing herself, but I do not allow her to + talk much as she is still weak. + + "I quite understand the delicacy of your position and + sympathise with you most deeply. Although I am anxious to try + what effect your presence will have on Lady Wilmersley, the + experiment can be safely postponed till to-morrow afternoon. + + "I trust the inquest will clear up the mystery which surrounds + the late Lord Wilmersley's death. + + "Believe me, + "Sincerely yours, + "A. STUART-SMITH." + +Cyril stared at the letter aghast. If the girl herself had forgotten her +identity, how could he hope to find out the truth? He did not even dare +to instigate a secret inquiry--certainly not till the Geralton mystery +had been cleared up. And she believed herself to be his wife! It was too +awful! + +Cyril passed a sleepless night and the next morning found him still +undecided as to what course to pursue. It was, therefore, a pale face +and a preoccupied mien that he presented to the inspection of the +county, which had assembled in force to attend his cousin's funeral. +Never in the memory of man had such an exciting event taken place and +the great hall in which the catafalque had been erected was thronged +with men of all ages and conditions. + +In the state drawing-room Cyril stood and received the condolences and +faced the curiosity of the county magnates. + +The ordeal was almost over, when the door was again thrown open and the +butler announced, "Lady Upton." + +Leaning heavily on a gold-headed cane Lady Upton advanced majestically +into the room. + +A sudden hush succeeded her entrance; every eye was riveted upon her. +She seemed, however, superbly indifferent to the curiosity she aroused, +and one felt, somehow, that she was not only indifferent but +contemptuous. + +She was a tall woman, taller, although she stooped a little, than most +of the men present. Notwithstanding her great age, she gave the +impression of extraordinary vigour. Her face was long and narrow, with a +stern, hawk-like nose, a straight, uncompromising mouth, and a +protruding chin. Her scanty, white hair was drawn tightly back from her +high forehead; a deep furrow separated her bushy, grey eyebrows and gave +an added fierceness to her small, steel-coloured eyes. An antiquated +bonnet perched perilously on the back of her head; her dress was quite +obviously shabby; and yet no one could for a moment have mistaken her +for anything but a truly great lady. + +Disregarding Cyril's outstretched hand, she deliberately raised her +lorgnette and looked at him for a moment in silence. + +"Well! You are a Crichton at any rate," she said at last. Having given +vent to this ambiguous remark, she waved her glasses, as if to sweep +away the rest of the company, and continued: "I wish to speak to you +alone." + +Her voice was deep and harsh and she made no effort to lower it. + +"So this was Anita Wilmersley's grandmother. What an old tartar!" +thought Cyril. + +"It is almost time for the funeral to start," he said aloud and he tried +to convey by his manner that he, at any rate, had no intention of +allowing her to ride rough-shod over him. + +"I know," she snapped, "so hurry, please. These gentlemen will excuse +us." + +"Certainly." "Of course." "We will wait in the hall." Cyril heard them +murmur and, such was the force of the old lady's personality, that +youths and grey beards jostled each other in their anxiety to get out of +the room as quickly as possible. + +"Get me a chair," commanded Lady Upton. "No, not that one. I want to sit +down, not lie down." + +With her stick she indicated a high, straight-backed chair, which had +been relegated to a corner. + +Having seated herself, she took a pair of spectacles out of her reticule +and proceeded to wipe them in a most leisurely manner. + +Cyril fidgeted impatiently. + +Finally, her task completed to her own satisfaction, she adjusted her +glasses and crossed her hands over the top of her cane. + +"No news of my granddaughter, I suppose," she demanded. + +"None, I am sorry to say." + +"Anita is a fool, but I am certain--absolutely certain, mind you--that +she did not kill that precious husband of hers, though I don't doubt he +richly deserved it." + +"I am surprised that you of all people should speak of my cousin in that +tone," said Cyril and he looked at her meaningly. + +"Of course, you believe what every one believes, that I forced Ann into +that marriage. Stuff and nonsense! I merely pointed out to her that she +could not do better than take him. She had not a penny to her name and +after my death would have been left totally unprovided for. I have only +my dower, as you know." + +"But, how could you have allowed a girl whose mind was affected to +marry?" + +"Fiddlesticks! You don't believe that nonsense, do you? Newspaper +twaddle, that is all that amounts to." + +"I beg your pardon, Arthur himself gave out that her condition was such +that she was unable to see any one." + +"Impossible! He wrote to me quite frequently and never hinted at such a +thing." + +"Nevertheless I assure you that is the case." + +"Then he is a greater blackguard than I took him to be----" + +"But did you not know that he kept her practically a prisoner here?" + +"Certainly not!" + +"And she never complained to you of his treatment of her?" + +"I once got a hysterical letter from her begging me to let her come back +to me, but as the only reason she gave for wishing to leave her husband +was that he was personally distasteful to her, I wrote back that as she +had made her bed, she must lie on it." + +"And even after that appeal you never made an attempt to see Anita and +find out for yourself how Arthur was treating her?" + +"I am not accustomed to being cross-questioned, Lord Wilmersley. I am +accountable to no one but my God for what I have done or failed to do. I +never liked Anita. She takes after her father, whom my daughter married +without my consent. When she was left an orphan, I took charge of her +and did my duty by her; but I never pretended that I was not glad when +she married and, as she did so of her own free-will, I cannot see that +her future life was any concern of mine." + +Cyril could hardly restrain his indignation. This proud, hard, selfish +old woman had evidently never ceased to visit her resentment of her +daughter's marriage on the child of that marriage. He could easily +picture the loveless and miserable existence poor Anita must have led. +Was it surprising that she should have taken the first chance that was +offered her of escaping from her grandmother's thraldom? She had +probably been too ignorant to realise what sort of a man Arthur +Wilmersley really was and too innocent to know what she was pledging +herself to. + +"I have come here to-day," continued Lady Upton, "because I considered +it seemly that my granddaughter's only relative should put in an +appearance at the funeral and also because I wanted you to tell me +exactly what grounds the police have for suspecting Anita." + +Cyril related as succinctly as possible everything which had so far come +to light. He, however, carefully omitted to mention his meeting with the +girl on the train. As the latter could not be Anita Wilmersley, he felt +that he was not called upon to inform Lady Upton of this episode. + +"Well!" exclaimed Lady Upton, when he had finished. "All I can say is, +that Anita is quite incapable of firing a pistol at any one, even if it +were thrust into her hand. You may not believe me, but that is because +you don't know her. I do. She hasn't the spirit of a mouse. Unless +Arthur had frightened her out of her wits, she would never have screwed +up courage to leave him, and it would be just like her to crawl away in +the night instead of walking out of the front door like a sensible +person. Bah! I have no patience with such a spineless creature! You men, +however, consider it an engaging feminine attribute for a woman to have +neither character nor sense!" Lady Upton snorted contemptuously and +glared at Cyril as if she held him personally responsible for the bad +taste of his sex. + +As he made no answer to her tirade, she continued after a moment more +calmly. + +"It seems to me highly improbable that Anita has been murdered; so I +want you to engage a decent private detective who will work only for us. +We must find her before the police do so. I take it for granted that you +will help me in this matter and that you are anxious--although, +naturally, not as anxious as I am--to prevent your cousin's widow from +being arrested." + +"A woman who has been treated by her husband as Arthur seems to have +treated Anita, is entitled to every consideration that her husband's +family can offer her," replied Cyril. "I am already employing a +detective and if he finds Anita I will communicate with you at once." + +"Good! Now remember that my granddaughter is perfectly sane; on the +other hand, I think it advisable to keep this fact a secret for the +present. Circumstantial evidence is so strongly against her that we may +have to resort to the plea of insanity to save her neck. That girl has +been a thorn in my flesh since the day she was born; but she shall not +be hanged, if I can help it," said Lady Upton, shutting her mouth with +an audible click. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE JEWELS + + +As soon as the funeral was over, Cyril left Geralton. On arriving in +London he recognised several reporters at the station. Fearing that they +might follow him, he ordered his taxi to drive to the Carlton. There he +got out and walking quickly through the hotel, he made his exit by a +rear door. Having assured himself that he was not being observed, he +hailed another taxi and drove to the nursing home. + +"Well, Mr. Thompkins," exclaimed the doctor, with ponderous +facetiousness. "I am glad to be able to tell you that Mrs. Thompkins is +much better." + +"And her memory?" faltered Cyril. + +"It's improving. She does not yet remember people or incidents, but she +is beginning to recall certain places. For instance, I asked her +yesterday if she had been to Paris. It suggested nothing to her, but +this morning she told me with great pride that Paris was a city and that +it had a wide street with an arch at one end. So you see she is +progressing; only we must not hurry her." + +Cyril murmured a vague assent. + +"Of course," continued the doctor, "you must be very careful when you +see Lady Wilmersley to restrain your emotions, and on no account to +remind her of the immediate past. I hope and believe she will never +remember it. On the other hand, I wish you to talk about those of her +friends and relations for whom she has shown a predilection. Her memory +must be gently stimulated, but on no account excited. Quiet, quiet is +essential to her recovery." + +"But doctor--I must--it's frightfully important that my wife (he found +himself calling her so quite glibly) should be told of a certain fact at +once. If I wait even a day, it will be too late," urged Cyril. + +"And you have reason to suppose that this communication will agitate +Lady Wilmersley?" + +"I--I fear so." + +"Then I can certainly not permit it. You don't seem to realise the +delicate condition of her brain. Why, it might be fatal," insisted the +doctor. + +Cyril felt as if Nemesis were indeed overtaking him. + +"Come, we will go to her," said the doctor, moving towards the door. +"She is naturally a little nervous about seeing you, so we must not keep +her waiting." + +But Cyril hung back. If he could not undeceive the poor girl, how could +he enter her presence. To pose as the husband of a woman so as to enable +her to escape arrest was excusable, but to impose himself on the +credulity of an afflicted girl was absolutely revolting. If he treated +her with even the most decorous show of affection, he would be taking a +dastardly advantage of the situation. Yet if he behaved with too much +reserve, she would conclude that her husband was a heartless brute. Her +husband! The one person she had to cling to in the isolation to which +she had awakened. It was horrible! Oh, why had he ever placed her in +such an impossible position? Arrest would have been preferable. He was +sure that she could easily have proved her innocence of whatever it was +of which she was accused, and in a few days at the latest would have +gone free without a stain on her character, while now, unless by some +miracle this episode remained concealed, she was irredeemably +compromised. He was a married man; she, for aught he knew to the +contrary, might also be bound, or at all events have a fiancé or lover +waiting to claim her. How would he view the situation? How would he +receive the explanation? Cyril shuddered involuntarily. Every minute the +chances that her secret could be kept decreased. If she did not return +to her friends while it was still possible to explain or account for the +time of her absence, he feared she would never be able to return at all. +Yes, it would take a miracle to save her now! + +"Well, Lord Wilmersley?" + +Cyril started. The doctor's tone was peremptory and his piercing eyes +were fixed searchingly upon him. What excuse could he give for refusing +to meet his supposed wife? He could think of none. + +"I must remind you, doctor," he faltered at last, "that my wife has +lately detested me. I--I really don't think I had better see her--I--I +am so afraid my presence will send her off her head again." + +The doctor's upper lip grew rigid and his eyes contracted angrily. + +"I have already assured you that she is perfectly sane. It is essential +to her recovery that she should see somebody connected with her past +life. I cannot understand your reluctance to meet Lady Wilmersley." + +"I--I am only thinking of the patient," Cyril murmured feebly. + +"The patient is my affair," snapped the doctor. + +What could he do? For an instant he was again tempted to tell +Stuart-Smith the truth. He looked anxiously at the man. No, it was +impossible. There was no loophole for escape. And after all, he +reflected, if he had an opportunity of watching the girl, she might +quite unconsciously by some act, word, or even by some subtle essence of +her personality furnish him with a clue to her past. Every occupation +leaves indelible marks, although it sometimes takes keen eyes to discern +them. If the girl had been a seamstress, Cyril believed that he would be +able by observing her closely to assure himself of the fact. + +"Very well," he said aloud. "If you are willing to assume the +responsibility, I will go to my wife at once. But I insist on your being +present at our meeting." + +"Certainly, if you wish it, but it is not at all necessary, I assure +you," replied the doctor. + +A moment later Cyril, blushing like a schoolgirl, found himself in a +large, white-washed room. Before him on a narrow, iron bedstead lay his +mysterious _protégée_. Cyril caught his breath. He had forgotten how +beautiful she was. Her red lips were slightly parted and the colour +ebbed and flowed in her transparent cheeks. Ignoring the doctor, her +eager glance sought Cyril and for a minute the two young people gazed at +each other in silence. How young, how innocent she looked! How could any +one doubt the candour of those star like eyes, thought Cyril. + +"Well, Mrs. Crichton," exclaimed Stuart-Smith, "I have brought you the +husband you have been so undutiful as to forget. 'Love, honour, and +obey, and above all remember,' I suggest as an amendment to the marriage +vow." + +"Nurse has been reading me the marriage service," said the girl, with a +quaint mixture of pride and diffidence. "I know all about it now; I +don't think I'll forget again." + +"Of course not! And now that you have seen your husband, do you find +that you remember him at all?" + +"Yes, a little. I know that I have seen you before," she answered, +addressing Cyril. + +"I gather from your manner that you don't exactly dislike him, do you?" +asked the doctor with an attempt at levity. "Your husband is so modest +that he is afraid to remain in your presence till you have reassured him +on this point." + +"I love him very much," was her astounding answer. + +Cyril's heart gave a bound. Did she realise what she had said? She +certainly showed no trace of embarrassment, and although her eyes clung +persistently to his, their expression of childlike simplicity was +absolutely disarming. + +"Very good, very good, quite as it should be," exclaimed the doctor, +evidently a little abashed by the frankness of the girl's reply. "That +being the case, I will leave you two together to talk over old times, +although they can't be very remote. I am sure, however, that when I see +you again, you will be as full of reminiscences as an octogenarian," +chuckled the doctor as he left the room. + +Cyril and the girl were alone. + +An arm-chair had been placed near the bed, obviously for his reception, +and after a moment's hesitation he took it. The girl did not speak, but +continued to look at him unflinchingly. Cyril fancied she regarded him +with something of the unquestioning reverence a small child might have +for a beloved parent. His eyes sank before hers. Never had he felt so +unworthy, so positively guilty. He racked his brains for something to +say, but the doctor's restrictions seemed to bar every topic which +suggested itself to him. If he only knew who she was! He glanced at her +furtively. In the dim light of the shaded lamp he had not noticed that +what he had supposed was her hair, was in reality a piece of black lace +bound turbanwise about her head. + +"What are you wearing that bandage for?" he inquired eagerly. "Was your +head hurt--my dear?" he added diffidently. + +"No--I--I hope you won't be angry--nurse said you would--but I couldn't +help it. I really had to cut it off." + +"Cut what off?" + +"My hair." She hung her head as a naughty child might have done. + +"You cut off your hair? But why?" His voice sounded suddenly harsh. +Strange that her first act had been to destroy one of the few things by +which she could be identified. Was she as innocent as she seemed? Had +she fooled them all, even the doctor? This amnesia, or whatever it was +called, was it real, was it assumed? He wondered. + +"Oh, husband, I know it was wrong; but when I woke up and couldn't +remember anything, I was so frightened, and then nurse brought me a +looking-glass and the face I saw was so strange! Oh, it was so lonely +without even myself! And then nurse said it was my hair. She said it +sometimes happened when people have had a great shock or been very ill +and so--I made her cut it off. She didn't want to--it wasn't her +fault--I made her do it." + +"But what had happened to your hair?" + +"It had turned quite white, most of it." The girl shuddered. "Oh, it was +horrid! I am sure you would not have liked it." + +Cyril, looking into her limpid eyes, felt his sudden suspicions unworthy +of him. + +"You must grow a nice new crop of black curls, if you want to appease +me," he answered. + +"Oh, do you like black hair?" Her disappointment was obvious. + +"Yes, don't you? Your hair was black before your illness." + +"I know it was--but I hate it! At all events, as long as I must wear a +wig, I should like to have a nice yellow one; nurse tells me I can get +them quite easily." + +"Dear me! But I don't think a wig nice at all." + +"Don't you?" Her mouth drooped at the corners. She seemed on the verge +of tears. + +What an extraordinary child! he thought. But she mustn't cry--anything +rather than that. + +"My dear, if you want a wig, you shall have one immediately. Tell your +nurse to send to the nearest hairdresser for an assortment from which +you can make your choice." + +"Oh, thank you, thank you," she cried, clapping her hands. Her hands! +Cyril had forgotten them for the moment, and it was through them that he +had hoped to establish her identity. He looked at them searchingly. No +ring encircled the wedding finger, nor did it show the depression which +the constant wearing of one invariably leaves. The girl was evidently +unmarried. Those long, slender, well-kept hands certainly did not look +as if they could belong to a servant, but he reflected that a +seamstress' work was not of a nature to spoil them. Only the forefinger +of her left hand would probably bear traces of needle pricks. He leaned +eagerly forward. + +"What are you looking at?" she asked. + +"At your hands, my dear," he tried to speak lightly. + +"What is the matter with them?" She held them out for his inspection. +Yes, it was as he had expected--her forefinger was rough. She was +Priscilla Prentice. Everything had fore-warned him of this conclusion, +yet in his heart of hearts he had not believed it possible till this +moment. + +"Don't you like my hands?" she asked, as she regarded them with anxious +scrutiny, evidently trying to discover why they failed to find favour in +the sight of her lord. + +"They are--" He checked himself; he had almost added--the prettiest +hands in the world; but he mustn't say such things to her, not under the +circumstances. "They are very pretty, only you have sewn so much that +you have quite spoiled one little finger." + +"Sewn?" She seemed struck with the idea. "Sew? I should like to sew. I +know I can." + +Further proof of her identity, if he needed it. + +"Well, you must get nurse to find you something on which to exercise +your talents--only you must be careful not to prick yourself so much in +future." + +"I will try, husband," she answered meekly, as she gazed solemnly at the +offending finger. + +There was a pause. + +"Do tell me something about my past life," said she. "I have been lying +here wondering and wondering." + +"What do you want to know?" + +"Everything. In the first place, are my parents living? Oh, I hope so!" + +Here was a poser. Cyril had no idea whether her parents were alive or +not, but even if they were, it would be impossible to communicate with +them for the present, so he had better set her mind at rest by denying +their existence. + +"No, my dear, you are an orphan, and you have neither brothers nor +sisters," he added hastily. It was just as well to put a final stop to +questions as to her family. + +"Nobody of my own--nobody?" + +"Nobody," he reiterated, but he felt like a brute. + +"Have I any children?" was her next question. + +Cyril started perceptibly. + +"No, no, certainly not," he was so embarrassed that he spoke quite +sharply. + +"Oh, are you glad?" She stared at him in amazement and to his disgust +Cyril felt himself turning crimson. + +"Now I'm sorry," she continued with a soft sigh. "I wish I had a baby. I +remember about babies." + +"I--I like them, too," he hastened to assure her. Really this was worse +than he had expected. + +"How long have we been married?" she demanded. + +"I have been married four years," he truthfully answered, hoping that +that statement would satisfy her. + +"Fancy! We have been living together for four years! Isn't it awful that +I can only remember you the very weeist little bit! But I will love, +honour, and obey you--now that I know--I will indeed." + +"I am sure you will always do what is right," said Cyril with a sudden +tightening of his throat. She looked so young, so innocent, so serious. +Oh, if only---- + +"Bah, don't waste too much love on me. I'm an unworthy beggar," he said +aloud. + +"You are an unworthy husband? Oh!" She opened her eyes wide and stared +at him in consternation. "But it doesn't say anything in the prayer-book +about not loving unworthy husbands. I don't believe it makes any +difference to the vow before God. Besides you don't look unworthy--are +you sure you are?" she pleaded. + +Cyril's eyes fell before her agonised gaze. + +"I'll try to be worthy of you," he stammered. + +"Worthy of me?" she cried with a gay, little laugh. "I'm too silly and +stupid now to be anything but a burden--I quite realise that--but the +doctor thinks I will get better and in the meantime I will try to please +you and do my duty." + +Poor baby, thought Cyril, the marriage vows she imagined she had taken +seemed to weigh dreadfully on her conscience. Oh, if he could only +undeceive her! + +A discreet knock sounded at the door. + +The nurse made her appearance. + +"The doctor thinks Mrs. Thompkins has talked enough for the present," +she said. + +Cyril rose with a curious mixture of relief and reluctance. + +"Well, this must be good-bye for to-day," he said, taking her small hand +in his. + +She lifted up her face--simply as a child might have done. Slowly he +leaned nearer to her, his heart was pounding furiously; the blood rushed +to his temples. + +Suddenly he started back! He must not--he dare not----! + +For a moment he crushed her fingers to his lips; then turning abruptly, +he strode towards the door. + +"You'll come to-morrow, won't you?" she cried. + +"Yes, to-morrow," he answered. + +"Early?" + +"As early as I can." + +"Good-bye, husband. I will be so lonely without you," she called after +him, but he resolutely closed the door. + +At the foot of the stairs a nurse was waiting for him. + +"The doctor would like to speak to you for a moment," she said as she +led the way to the consulting-room. + +"Well, how did you find Lady Wilmersley's memory; were you able to help +her in any way to recall the past," inquired the doctor. + +Cyril was too preoccupied to notice that the other's manner was several +degrees colder than it had been on his arrival. + +"I fear not." Cyril felt guiltily conscious that he was prevaricating. + +"You astonish me. I confess I am disappointed. Yes, very much so. But it +will come back to her--I am sure it will." + +"I say, doctor, how long do you think my wife will have to remain here?" + +"No longer than she wishes to. She could be moved to-morrow, if +necessary, but I advise waiting till the day after." + +"You are sure it won't hurt her?" insisted Cyril anxiously. + +"Quite. In fact, the sooner Lady Wilmersley resumes her normal life the +better." + +"How soon will I be able to talk freely to her?" Cyril asked. + +"That depends largely on how she progresses, but not before a month at +the earliest. By the way, Lord Wilmersley, I want you to take charge of +Lady Wilmersley's bag. The contents were too valuable to be left about; +so after taking out her toilet articles, the nurse brought it to me." + +"Ah! and--and what was in the bag?" asked Cyril fearfully. + +"Lady Wilmersley's jewels, of course." + +Jewels! This was terrible. If they were those belonging to his cousin, +their description had been published in every paper in the kingdom. It +was a miracle that Smith had not recognised them. + +"Of course," Cyril managed to stammer. + +The doctor went to a safe and taking out a cheap, black bag handed it to +Cyril. + +"I should like you, please, to see if they are all there," he said. + +"That isn't the least necessary," Cyril hastened to assure him. + +"You would greatly oblige me by doing so." + +"I'm quite sure they are all right; besides if any are missing, they +were probably stolen in Paris," said Cyril. + +"But I insist." Stuart-Smith was nothing if not persistent. His keen +eyes had noted Cyril's agitation and his reluctance to open the bag made +the doctor all the more determined to force him to do so. + +But Cyril was too quick for him. Seizing the bag, he made for the door. + +"I'll come back to-morrow," he cried over his shoulder, as he hurried +unceremoniously out of the room and out of the house. + +A disreputable-looking man stood at the door of his waiting taxi and +obsequiously opened it. Shouting his address to the driver, Cyril flung +himself into the car and waved the beggar impatiently away. + +No sooner were they in motion than Cyril hastened to open the bag. A +brown paper parcel lay at the bottom of it. He undid the string with +trembling fingers. Yes, it was as he feared--a part, if not all, of the +Wilmersley jewels lay before him. + +"Give me a penny, for the love of Gawd," begged a hoarse voice at his +elbow. The beggar was still clinging to the step and his villainous face +was within a foot of the jewels. + +Cyril felt himself grow cold with apprehension. The fellow knew who he +was, and followed him. He was a detective! + +"A gen'lman like you could well spare a poor man a penny," the fellow +whined, but there was a note of menace in his voice. Cyril tried to get +a good look at him, but the light was too dim for him to distinguish his +features clearly. + +Hastily covering the jewels, Cyril thrust a coin into the grimy hand. + +"Go!" he commanded, "go, or I'll call the police." + +The man sank out of sight. + +"My poor little girl, my poor little girl," murmured Cyril +disconsolately, as he glanced once more at the incriminating jewels. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE TWO FRENCHMEN + + +"You must be mad, Cyril! No sane man could have got into such a mess!" +cried Guy Campbell, excitedly pounding his fat knee with his podgy hand. + +Cyril had been so disturbed by the finding of the Wilmersley jewels that +he had at last decided that he must confide his troubles to some one. He +realised that the time had come when he needed not only advice but +assistance. He was now so convinced that he was being watched that he +had fled to his club for safety. There, at all events, he felt +comparatively safe from prying eyes, and it was there in a secluded +corner that he poured his tale of woe into his friend's astonished ears. + +"You must be mad," the latter repeated. + +"If that is all you can find to say, I am sorry I told you," exclaimed +Cyril irritably. + +"It's a jolly good thing you did! Why, you are no more fit to take care +of yourself than a new-born baby." Guy's chubby face expressed such +genuine concern that Cyril relaxed a little. + +"Perhaps I've been a bit of an ass, but really I don't see what else I +could have done." + +"No, don't suppose you do," said Guy, regarding Cyril with pitying +admiration. + +"Oh, don't rub it in! The question now is not what I ought to have done, +but what am I to do now?" + +"What do you intend to do?" + +"I haven't the slightest idea. I want your advice." + +"Oh, no, you don't! Why, you wouldn't even listen to a sensible +suggestion." + +"What do you call a sensible suggestion?" Cyril cautiously inquired. + +"To get the girl out of the nursing home and lose her. And it ought to +be done P. D. Q., as the Americans say." + +"I shall certainly do nothing of the sort." + +"Exactly," cried Campbell triumphantly. "I know you, Lord Quixote; you +have some crazy plan in your head. Out with it." + +"I haven't a plan, I tell you. Now as I am being followed----" + +"I can't believe you are," interrupted Guy. + +"I feel sure that that beggar I told you about was a detective." + +"Why?" + +"He was evidently waiting for me and I couldn't shake him off till he +had had a good look at the jewels." + +"It is much more likely that he was waiting for a penny than for you, +and beggars are usually persistent. I see no possible reason why the +police should be shadowing you. It is your guilty conscience that makes +you so suspicious." + +"You may be right; I certainly hope you are, but till I am sure of it, I +don't dare to run the risk of being seen with Miss Prentice. As she is +in no condition to go about alone, I have been worrying a good deal as +to how to get her out of the Home; so I thought--it occurred to +me--that--you are the person to do it." + +"Thanks, awfully! So you leave me the pleasant task of running off with +a servant-girl who is 'wanted' by the police! You are really too +unselfish!" + +"Miss Prentice is a lady," Cyril angrily asserted. + +"H'm," Campbell ejaculated skeptically. "That she is a beauty I do not +doubt, and she has certainly played her cards very skilfully." + +"Don't you dare to speak of her like that," cried Cyril, clenching his +fists and half starting to his feet. + +"By Jove, old man! You're smitten with her," exclaimed Campbell, staring +aghast at his friend. + +Cyril flushed darkly under his tan. + +"Certainly not, but I have the greatest respect for this unfortunate +young woman, and don't you forget it again." + +Campbell smiled incredulously. + +"Oh, very well! Believe what you like, but I didn't think you were the +sort of man who never credits a fellow with disinterested motives, if he +behaves half-way decently to a woman." + +"Steady now, Cyril. Don't let's quarrel. You mustn't take offence so +easily. I have never seen the young lady, remember. And you know I will +help you even against my better judgment." + +"You're a good chap, Guy." + +"Thanks! Now let us first of all consider Miss Prentice's case +dispassionately. I want to be sure of my facts; then I may be able to +form some conjecture as to why Wilmersley was murdered and how the +jewels came into Miss Prentice's possession. You tell me that it has +been proved that she really left Geralton on the afternoon before the +murder?" + +"Yes; the carrier swears he drove her into Newhaven and put her down +near the station. Further than that they have luckily not been able to +trace her." + +"Now your idea is that Miss Prentice, having in some way managed to +secure a car, returned to Geralton that evening and got into the castle +through the library window?" + +"No, I doubt if she entered the castle. I can think of no reason why she +should have done so," said Cyril. + +"In that case, how do you account for her injuries? Who could have +flogged her except your charming cousin?" + +"I hadn't thought of that!" exclaimed Cyril. + +"Granting that she is Priscilla Prentice, the only hypothesis I can +think of which explains her predicament is this: Having planned to +rescue her mistress, she was only waiting for a favourable opportunity +to present itself. The doctor's visit determined her to act at once. I +agree with you that to re-enter Geralton was not her original intention, +but while waiting under the library window for Lady Wilmersley to join +her, she hears Wilmersley ill-treating his wife, so she climbs in and +rushes to the latter's assistance." + +"Yes, yes," assented Cyril with shining eyes. + +"But she is overpowered by Wilmersley," continued Campbell, warming to +his theme, "who, insane with rage, flogs her unmercifully. Then Lady +Wilmersley, fearing the girl will be killed, seizes the pistol, which is +lying on the desk, and fires at her husband----" + +"I am convinced that that is just what happened," cried Cyril. + +"Don't be too sure of it; still, it seems to me that that theory hangs +together pretty well," Campbell complacently agreed. "Of course, neither +woman contemplated murder. Wilmersley's death completely unnerved them. +If the gardener's wife heard a cry coming from the car, it is possible +that one or the other had an attack of hysterics. Now about the +jewels--I believe Miss Prentice took charge of them, either because Lady +Wilmersley was unfit to assume such a responsibility or because they +agreed that she could the more easily dispose of them. I think that Miss +Prentice's hurried trip to town was undertaken not in order to avoid +arrest, but primarily to raise money, of which they must have had great +need, and possibly also to rejoin her mistress, who, now that we know +that she made her escape in a car, is probably hiding somewhere either +in London itself or in its vicinity." + +"Guy, you are a wonder. You have thought of everything," cried Cyril +admiringly. + +"Of course, I may be quite wrong. These are only suppositions, +remember," Campbell modestly reminded him. "By the way, what have you +done with the jewels? I can't believe that you are in any danger of +arrest, but if there is the remotest chance of such a thing, it wouldn't +look very well if they were found in your possession." + +"I had thought of that. I was even afraid that my rooms might be +searched in my absence, so I took them with me." + +"They are here?" + +"Yes, in my pocket. I have hidden the bag and to-night I mean to burn +it." + +"Your pocket is not a very safe repository." + +"Exactly. That is why I want you to take charge of them," said Cyril. + +"Oh, very well," sighed Campbell, with mock resignation. "In for a +penny, in for a pound. I shall probably end by being arrested as a +receiver of stolen property! But now we must consider what we had better +do with Miss Prentice." + +"I think I shall hire a cottage in the country for her." + +"If you did that, the police would find her immediately. The only safe +hiding-place is a crowd." + +"You think so?" Cyril looked doubtful. + +"I am sure of it. Now let me see: Where is she least likely to attract +attention? It must be a place where you could manage to see her without +being compromised, and, if possible, without being observed. I have it! +A hotel. The Hotel George is the very place. In a huge caravansary like +that all sorts and conditions of people jostle each other without +exciting comment. Besides, the police are less likely to look among the +guests of such an expensive hotel for a poor maid servant or in such a +public resort for a fugitive from justice." + +"You are right!" cried Cyril enthusiastically. + +"But in her present condition," continued Campbell, "I don't see how she +could remain there alone." + +"Certainly not. She must have some woman with her." + +"Exactly. But what trustworthy woman could you get to undertake such a +task? Perhaps one of the nurses----" + +"No," Cyril hastily interrupted him. "When she leaves the nursing home, +all trace of her must be lost. At any moment the police may discover +that a woman whom I have represented to be my wife has been a patient +there. That will naturally arouse their suspicions and they will do +their utmost to discover who it is that I am protecting with my name. +No, a nurse would never do. For one thing, she would feel called upon to +report to the doctor." + +"You might bribe her not to do so," suggested Guy. + +"I shouldn't dare to trust to an absolutely unknown quantity. Oh, if I +only knew a respectable woman on whom I could rely! I would pay her a +small fortune for her services." + +"I know somebody who might do," said Campbell. "Her name is Miss Trevor +and she used to be my sister's governess. She is too old to teach now +and I fancy has a hard time to make both ends meet. The only trouble is +that she is so conscientious that she would rather starve than be mixed +up in anything she did not consider perfectly honourable and above +board. If I told her that she was to chaperon a young lady whom the +police were looking for, she would be so indignant that I doubt if she +would ever speak to me again." + +"Why tell her?" insinuated Cyril. + +"It doesn't seem decent to inveigle her by false representations into +taking a position which she would never dream of accepting if she knew +the truth." + +"I will pay her £200 a year as long as she lives, if she will look after +Miss Prentice till this trouble is over. Even if the worst happens and +the girl is discovered, she can truthfully plead ignorance of the +latter's identity," urged Cyril. + +"True, and two hundred a year is good pay even for unpleasant notoriety. +Yes, on the whole I think I am justified in accepting the offer for her. +But now we must consider what fairy tale we are going to concoct for her +benefit." + +"Oh, I don't know," sighed Cyril wearily. + +"Imagination giving out, or conscience awakening--which is it?" asked +Guy. + +"Don't chaff!" + +"Sorry, old man; but joking aside, we must really decide what we are to +tell Miss Trevor. You can no longer pose as Miss Prentice's husband----" + +"Why not?" interrupted Cyril sharply. + +"What possible excuse have you for doing so, now that she is to leave +the doctor's care?" + +"I am sure it would have a very bad effect on Miss Prentice's health, if +I were to tell her that she is not my wife." + +"H'm, h'm!" Campbell regarded his friend quizzically. + +"Remember, she is completely cut off from the past," urged Cyril; "she +has neither friend nor relation to cling to. I am the one person in the +world she believes she has a claim on. I can't undeceive her. Besides, +the doctor's orders are that she shall not be in any way agitated." + +"Well, that settles that question. Now what explanation will you give +Miss Trevor for not living with your wife?" + +"I shall say that her state of health renders it inadvisable for the +present." + +"What shall she be called?" asked Campbell. + +"I think we had better stick to Thompkins. She is accustomed to that. +Only we will spell it Tomkyns and change the Christian name to John." + +"But won't she confide what she believes to be her real name to Miss +Trevor?" asked Guy anxiously. + +"I think not--not if I tell her I don't wish her to do so. She has a +great idea of wifely obedience, I assure you." + +"Well," laughed Guy, "that is a virtue which so few real wives possess +that it seems a pity it should be wasted on a temporary one. And now, +Cyril, we must decide on the best way and the best time for transferring +Miss Prentice to the hotel." + +"Unless something unexpected occurs to change our plans, I think she had +better be moved the day after to-morrow. I advise your starting as early +as possible before the world is well awake. But I leave all details to +you. You are quite capable of managing the situation. Only be sure you +are not followed, that is all I ask." + +"I don't expect we shall be, but if we are, I think I can promise to +outwit them," Campbell assured him. + +"I shall never forget what you are doing for me, Guy." + +"You had better not. I expect you to erect a monument commemorating my +virtues and my folly. Now I must be off. Where are those stolen goods of +which I am to become the custodian?" + +"Here they are. I have done them up in several parcels, so that they are +not too bulky to carry. As I don't want the police to know how intimate +we are, it is better that we should not be seen together in public for +the present." + +"I think you are over-cautious. But perhaps," agreed Campbell, "we might +as well meet here till all danger is over." + +A few minutes later Cyril also left the club. His talk with Campbell had +been a great relief to him. As he walked briskly along, he felt +calm--almost cheerful. + +"Isn't this Lord Wilmersley?" inquired a deep voice at his elbow. + +Turning quickly Cyril recognised Inspector Griggs. + +For a moment Cyril was too startled to speak. Then, pulling himself +together, he exclaimed with an attempt at heartiness: + +"Why, Inspector! I thought you were in Newhaven. What has brought you to +town?" + +"I only left Newhaven this afternoon, but I think my work there is +finished--for the present at least." + +"Really? Have you already solved the mystery?" + +"No indeed, but the clue now leads away from Geralton." + +"Clue? What clue?" Cyril found it difficult to control the tremor in his +voice. + +"If you'll excuse me, my lord, I had better keep my suppositions to +myself till I am able to verify them." + +The man suspected him! But why? What had he discovered? Cyril felt he +could not let him go before he had ascertained exactly what he had to +fear. It was so awful, this fighting in the dark. + +"If you have half an hour to spare, come to my rooms. They are only a +few doors away." Cyril was convinced that the Inspector knew where he +was staying and had been lying in wait for him. He thought it best to +pretend that he felt above suspicion. + +"Thank you, my lord." + +A few minutes later they were sitting before a blazing fire, the +Inspector puffing luxuriously at a cigar and sipping from time to time a +glass of whiskey and soda which Peter had reluctantly placed at his +elbow. Peter, as he himself would have put it, "did not hold with the +police," and thought his master was sadly demeaning himself by +fraternising with a member of that calling. + +"I quite understand your reluctance to talk about a case," said Cyril, +reverting at once to the subject he had in mind; "but as this one so +nearly concerns my family and consequently myself, I think I have a +right to your confidence. I am most anxious to know what you have +discovered. This mystery is weighing on me. I assure you, you can rely +on my discretion." + +"Well, my lord, it's a bit unprofessional, but seeing it's you, I don't +mind if I do. It's the newspaper men, I am afraid of." + +"I shall not mention what you tell me to any one except possibly to one +friend," Cyril hastily assured him. + +"Thank you, my lord. You see I may be all wrong, so I don't want to say +too much till I can prove my case." + +"I understand that," said Cyril; "and this clue that you are +following--what is it?" he inquired with breathless impatience. + +"The car, my lord," answered the Inspector, settling himself deeper in +his chair, while his eyes began to gleam with suppressed excitement. + +"You have found the car in which her ladyship made her escape?" + +"I don't know about that yet, but I have found the car that stood at the +foot of the long lane on the night of the murder." + +"Remarkable!" + +"Oh, that's not so very wonderful," protested the Inspector with an +attempt at modesty, but he was evidently bursting with pride in his +achievement. + +"How did you do it? What had you to go on?" asked Cyril with genuine +amazement. + +"I began my search by trying to find out what cars had been seen in the +neighbourhood of Geralton on the night of the murder--by neighbourhood I +mean a radius of twenty-five miles. I found, as I expected, that +half-past eleven not being a favourite hour for motoring, comparatively +few had been seen or heard. Most of these turned out to be the property +of gentlemen who had no difficulty in proving that they had been used +only for perfectly legitimate purposes. There remained, however, two +cars of which I failed to get a satisfactory account. One belongs to a +Mr. Benedict, a young man who owns a place about ten miles from +Geralton, and who seems to have spent the evening motoring wildly over +the country. He pretends he had no particular object, and as he is a bit +queer, it may be true. The other car is the property of the landlord of +the Red Lion Inn, a very respectable hotel in Newhaven. I then sent two +of my men to examine these cars and report if either of them has a new +tire, for the gardener's wife swore that the car she heard had burst +one. Mr. Benedict's tires all showed signs of wear, but the Red Lion car +has a brand new one!" + +"Bravo! That is a fine piece of work." + +"Oh, that is nothing," replied the Inspector, vainly trying to suppress +a self-satisfied smile. + +"Did you find any further evidence against this hotel-keeper? What +connection had he with the castle?" inquired Cyril. + +"He knew Lord Wilmersley slightly, but says he has never even seen her +Ladyship. And I am inclined to believe him." + +"In that case what part does he play in the affair?" + +"None, I fancy. You see he keeps the car for the convenience of his +guests and on the day in question it had been hired by two young +Frenchmen, who were out in it from two o'clock till midnight." + +"Frenchmen! But how could they have had anything to do with the +tragedy?" + +"That remains to be seen. So far all I have been able to find out about +these two men is that they landed in Newhaven ten days before the +murder. They professed to be brothers and called themselves Joseph and +Paul Durand. They seemed to be amply provided with money and wanted the +best the hotel had to offer. Joseph Durand appeared a decent sort of +fellow, but the younger one drank. The waiters fancy that the elder man +used to remonstrate with him occasionally, but the youngster paid very +little attention to him." + +"You say they _professed_ to be brothers. Why do you doubt their +relationship?" + +"For one reason, the elder one did not understand a word of English, +while the young one spoke it quite easily, although with a strong +accent. That is, he spoke it with a strong accent when he was sober, but +when under the influence of liquor this accent disappeared." + +"And what has become of the pair?" + +"They left Newhaven the morning after the murder. Their departure was +very hurried, and the landlord is sure that the day before they had no +intention of leaving." + +"Where did they go to?" + +"They took the boat to Dieppe. The porter saw them off." + +"Have you been able to trace them farther?" + +"Not yet, my lord, but I have sent one of my men to try and follow them +up, and I have notified the continental police to be on the look-out for +them. It's a pity that they have three days' start of us." + +"But as you have an accurate description of both, I should imagine that +they will soon be found." + +"It's through the young 'un they'll be caught, if they are caught." + +"Why, is he deformed in any way?" + +"No, my lord, but they tell me he is abnormally small for a man of his +age, for he must be twenty-two or three at the very least. The landlord +believes that he is a jockey who had got into bad habits, and that the +elder man is his trainer or backer. Of course, he may be right, but the +waiters pooh-pooh the idea. They insist that the boy is a gentleman-born +and servants are pretty good judges of such things, though you mightn't +think it, my lord." + +"I can quite believe it," assented Cyril. "But then there are many +gentlemen jockeys." + +"So there are. I only wish I had seen the little fellow, for they all +agree that there was something about him which would make it impossible +for any one who had once met him ever to forget him again." + +"That certainly is a most unusual quality." + +"So it is, my lord. They also tell me that if his eyes had not been so +bloodshot, and if he had not looked so drawn and haggard, he'd have been +an extraordinarily good-looking chap." + +"Really?" + +"Yes. It seems that he has large blue eyes, a fine little nose, not a +bit red as you would expect, and as pretty a mouth as ever you'd see. +His hair is auburn and he wears it rather long, which I don't think he'd +do if he were a jockey. Besides, his skin is as fine as a baby's, though +its colour is a grey-white with only a spot of red in the middle of each +cheek." + +"He must be a queer-looking beggar!" + +"That's just it. That's why I think we shall soon spot him." + +"What did the elder Durand look like?" + +"The ordinary type of Frenchman. He is about twenty-eight years old, +medium height, and inclined to be stout. He has dark hair, a little thin +at the temples, dark moustache, and dark eyes. His features are +nondescript." + +"On the night of the murder you say they returned to the hotel at about +midnight?" + +"Somewhere around then." + +"Was their behaviour in any way noticeable?" + +"The porter was so sleepy that he can't remember much about it. He had +an impression that they came in arm in arm and went quietly upstairs." + +"They were alone?" + +"Certainly." + +"But what do you think they had done with Lady Wilmersley?" + +"But, my lord, you didn't expect that they would bring her to the hotel, +did you? If they were her friends, their first care would be for her +safety. If they were not--well, we will have to look for another victim, +that is all." + +"You think that there is that possibility?" inquired Cyril eagerly. + +"I do, my lord." The Inspector rose ponderously to his feet. "I mustn't +keep you any longer." He hesitated a moment, eyeing Cyril doubtfully. +There was evidently still something he wished to say. + +Cyril had also risen to his feet and stood leaning against the +mantelpiece, idly wondering at the man's embarrassment. + +"I trust her Ladyship has quite recovered?" the Inspector finally +blurted out. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE INSPECTOR INTERVIEWS CYRIL + + +Cyril felt the muscles of his face stiffen. He had for days been +dreading some such question, yet now that it had finally come, it had +found him completely unprepared. He must parry it if he could. He must +fight for her till the last ditch. + +But how devilishly clever of Griggs to have deferred his attack until he +was able to catch his adversary off his guard! Cyril looked keenly but, +he hoped, calmly at the Inspector. Their eyes met, but without the clash +which Cyril had expected. The man's expression, although searching, was +not hostile; in fact, there was something almost apologetic about his +whole attitude. Griggs was not sure of his ground, that much was +obvious. He knew something, he probably suspected more, but there was +still a chance that he might be led away from the trail. + +Cyril's mind worked with feverish rapidity. He realised that it was +imperative that his manner should appear perfectly natural. But how +would an innocent man behave? He must first decide what his position, +viewed from Griggs's standpoint, really was. He must have a definite +conception of his part before he attempted to act it. + +The Inspector evidently knew that a young woman, who bore Cyril's name, +had been taken ill on the Newhaven train. He was no doubt also aware +that she was now under the care of Dr. Stuart-Smith. But if the +Inspector really believed the girl to be his wife, these facts were in +no way incriminating. Yet the man smelt a rat! He must, therefore, know +more of the truth. No, for if he had discovered that the girl was not +Lady Wilmersley, Cyril was sure that Griggs would not have broached the +subject so tentatively. What then had aroused the man's suspicions? Ah, +he had it! He had told every one who inquired about his wife that she +was still on the continent. Peter, also, obeying his orders, had +repeated the same story in the servants' hall. And, of course, Griggs +knew that they were both lying. No wonder he was suspicious! + +"She is much better, thank you. But how did you hear of her illness? I +have not mentioned it to any one." Cyril flattered himself that his +voice had exactly the right note of slightly displeased surprise. He +watched the Inspector breathlessly. Had he said the right thing? Yes, +for Griggs's expression relaxed and he answered with a smile that was +almost deprecating: + +"I, of course, saw the report of the man who searched the train, and I +was naturally surprised to find that the only lady who had taken her +ticket in Newhaven was Mrs. Cyril Crichton. In a case like this we have +to verify everything, so when I discovered that the gentleman who was +with her, was undoubtedly your Lordship, it puzzled me a good deal why +both you and your valet should be so anxious to keep her Ladyship's +presence in England a secret." + +"Yes, yes, it must have astonished you, and I confess I am very sorry +you found me out," said Cyril. He had his cue now. The old lie must be +told once more. "Her Ladyship is suffering from a--a nervous affection." +He hesitated purposely. "In fact--she has just left an insane asylum," +he finally blurted out. + +"You mean that the present Lady Wilmersley--not the Dowager--?" The +Inspector was too surprised to finish his sentence. + +"Yes, it's queer, isn't it, that both should be afflicted in the same +way," agreed Cyril, calmly lighting a cigarette. + +"Most remarkable," ejaculated Griggs, staring fixedly at Cyril. + +"As the doctors believe that her Ladyship will completely recover, I +didn't want any one to know that she had ever been unbalanced. But I +might have known that it was bound to leak out." + +"We are no gossips, my lord; I shall not mention what you have told me +to any one." + +"Thanks. But if the whole police department----?" + +"They have got too much to do, to bother about what doesn't concern +them. I don't believe a dozen of them noticed that in searching the +train for one Lady Wilmersley, they had inadvertently stumbled on +another, and as the latter had nothing to do with their case, they +probably dismissed the whole thing from their minds. I know them!" + +"But you--" suggested Cyril. + +"Well, you see, it's different with me. It's the business of my men to +bring me isolated facts, but I have to take a larger view of +the--the--the--ah--possibilities. I have got to think of +everything--suspect every one." + +"Even me?" asked Cyril quickly. + +"Your Lordship would have no difficulty in proving an alibi." + +"So you took the trouble to find that out?" + +"Of course, my lord." + +"But why? I should really like to know what could have led you to +suspect me?" + +"I didn't suspect you, my lord. I only thought of you. You see, Lady +Wilmersley must have had an accomplice and you must acknowledge that it +was a strange coincidence that your Lordship should have happened to +pass through Newhaven at that particular moment, especially as the +Newhaven route is not very popular with people of your means." + +"Quite so. As a matter of fact, I had no intention of taking it, but I +missed the Calais train." + +"I see," Griggs nodded his head as if the explanation fully satisfied +him. "Would you mind, my lord," he continued after a brief pause, "if, +now that we are on the subject, I asked you a few questions? There are +several points which are bothering me. Of course, don't answer, if you +had rather not." + +"You mean if my answers are likely to incriminate me. Well, I don't +think they will, so fire ahead," drawled Cyril, trying to express by his +manner a slight weariness of the topic. + +"Thank you, my lord." Griggs looked a trifle abashed, but he persisted. +"I have been wondering how it was that you met her Ladyship in Newhaven, +if you had no previous intention of taking that route?" + +Cyril was ready with his answer. + +"It was quite accidental. The fact is, her Ladyship escaped from an +asylum near Fontainebleau over a fortnight ago. I scoured France for her +but finally gave up the search, and leaving the French detectives to +follow up any clue that might turn up, I decided almost on the spur of +the moment to run over to England. I was never more astonished than when +I found her on the train." + +"Why had she gone to Newhaven?" asked Griggs. + +"I have no idea." + +"Nor how long she stayed there?" + +"No. She was rather excited and I asked no questions." + +"Had she ever before visited Newhaven to your knowledge?" + +"Never." + +"Then she did not know the late Lord Wilmersley?" + +"No." + +"Was there any reason for this?" inquired the detective, looking keenly +at Cyril. + +"I was never very friendly with my cousin, and we sailed for South +Africa immediately after our marriage. Neither of us has been home since +then." + +"I must find out where she spent the night of the murder," murmured the +Inspector. He seemed to have forgotten Cyril's presence. + +"If you think her Ladyship had anything to do with the tragedy, I assure +you, you are on the wrong track," cried Cyril, forgetting for a moment +his pose of polite aloofness. "She has never been at all violent. It is +chiefly her memory that is affected. Until the last few days what she +did one minute, she forgot the next." + +"You think, therefore, that she would not be able to tell me how she +spent her time in Newhaven?" + +"I am sure of it." + +"That is most unfortunate! By the way, how has she taken the news of +Lord Wilmersley's murder?" + +"She has not been told of it. She does not even know that he is dead." + +"Ah!" + +"I see I must explain her case more fully, so that you may be able to +understand my position. Her Ladyship's mind became affected about six +months ago, owing to causes into which I need not enter now. Since her +arrival in England her improvement has been very rapid. Her memory is +growing stronger, but it is essential that it should not be taxed for +the present. The doctor assures me that if she is kept perfectly quiet +for a month or so, she will recover completely. That is why I want her +to remain in absolute seclusion. An incautious word might send her off +her balance. She must be protected from people, and I will protect her, +I warn you of that. Six weeks from now, if all goes well, you can +cross-question her, if you still think it necessary, but at present I +not only forbid it, but I will do all in my power to prevent it. Of +course," continued Cyril more calmly, "I have neither the power nor the +desire to hamper you in the exercise of your profession; so if you doubt +my statements just ask Dr. Stuart-Smith whether he thinks her Ladyship +has ever been in a condition when she might have committed murder. He +will laugh at you, I am sure." + +"I don't doubt it, my lord; all the same--" Griggs hesitated. + +"All the same you would like to know what her Ladyship did on the night +of the murder. Well, find out, if you can. I assure you that although +our motives differ, my curiosity equals yours." + +"Thank you, my lord. I shall certainly do my best to solve the riddle," +said the Inspector as he bowed himself out. + +Cyril sank wearily into a chair. The interview had been a great strain, +and yet he felt that in a way it had been a relief also. He flattered +himself that he had played his cards rather adroitly. For now that he +had found out exactly how much the police knew, he might possibly +circumvent them. Of course, it was merely a question of days, perhaps +even of hours, before Griggs would discover that the girl was not his +wife; for the Inspector was nothing if not thorough and if he once began +searching Newhaven for evidence of her stay there, Cyril was sure that +it would not take him long to establish her identity. Oh! If he only had +Griggs fighting on his side, instead of the little pompous fool of a +Judson! By the way, what could have become of Judson? It was now two +full days since he had left Geralton. He certainly ought to have +reported himself long before this. Well, it made no difference one way +or the other. He was a negligible quantity. Cyril had no time to think +of him now. His immediate concern was to find a way by which Priscilla +could be surreptitiously removed from the nursing home, before the +police had time to collect sufficient evidence to warrant her arrest. +But how was it to be done? Cyril sat for half an hour staring at the +smouldering fire before he was able to hit on a plan that seemed to him +at all feasible. + +Going to the writing-table, he rapidly covered three sheets and thrust +them into an envelope. + +"Peter," he called. + +"Yes, sir," answered a sleepy voice. + +"You are to take this letter at half-past seven o'clock to-morrow +morning to Mr. Campbell's rooms and give it into his own hands. If he is +still asleep, wake him up. Do you understand?" + +"Yes, my lord." + +"Very well. You can go to bed now----" + +It was lucky, thought Cyril, that he had taken Guy into his confidence. +He was a good chap, Guy was! How he must hate the whole business! For, +notwithstanding his careless manner, he was _au fond_ a conventional +soul. It was really comical to think of that impeccable person as a +receiver of stolen property. What would he do with the jewels, Cyril +wondered. Ah, that reminded him of the bag. He must get rid of it at +once. Poking the fire into a blaze, he cautiously locked the two doors +which connected his rooms with the rest of the house. Then, having +assured himself that the blinds were carefully drawn and that no one was +secreted about the premises, he knelt down before the empty fireplace in +his bedroom and felt up the chimney. + +The bag was no longer there! + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +A PERILOUS VENTURE + + +In the grey dawn of the following morning Cyril was already up and +dressed. The first thing he did was to detach two of the labels affixed +to his box and place them carefully in his pocketbook. That +accomplished, he had to wait with what patience he could muster until +Peter returned with Campbell's reply. Cyril perused it eagerly. It was +evidently satisfactory, for he heaved a sigh of relief as he sat down to +breakfast. His eyes, however, never left the clock and it had hardly +finished striking nine before our hero was out of the house. No +suspicious person was in sight, but Cyril, was determined to take no +chances. He therefore walked quickly ahead, then turned so abruptly that +he would necessarily have surprised any one who was following him. This +he did many times till he reached Piccadilly Circus, where, with a last +look behind him, he bolted into a shop. There he asked for a small +travelling box suitable for a lady. Having chosen one, he took his +labels out of his pocket. + +"Have these pasted on the box," he ordered. + +The man's face expressed such amazement that Cyril hastened to remark +that the box was intended for a bride who did not wish to be identified +as such by the newness of her baggage. A comprehending and sympathetic +smile proved that the explanation was satisfactory. A few minutes later +Cyril drove off with his new acquisition. The next purchase was a +handsomely-fitted lady's dressing-bag, which he took to Trufitt's and +filled with such toilet accessories as a much-befrizzled young person +designated as indispensable to a lady's comfort. On leaving there he +stopped for a moment at his bank. + +Cyril now metaphorically girded his loins and summoning up all his +courage, plunged into a shop in Bond Street, where he remembered his +mother used to get what she vaguely termed "her things." Among the maze +of frou-frous he stood in helpless bewilderment, till an obsequious +floor-walker came to his rescue. Cyril explained that he had a box +outside which he wanted to fill then and there with a complete outfit +for a young lady. To his relief the man showed no surprise at so unusual +a request and he was soon ensconced in the blessed seclusion of a +fitting room. There the box was hurriedly packed with a varied +assortment of apparel, which he devoutly prayed would meet with +Priscilla's approval. It was not half-past eleven. The doctor must have +left the nursing home by this time, thought Cyril. + +Not wishing to attract attention by driving up to the door, he told the +chauffeur to stop when they were still at some distance away from it. +There he got out and looked anxiously about him. To his relief he +recognised Campbell's crimson pate hovering in the distance. So far, +thought Cyril triumphantly, there had been no hitch in his +carefully-laid plans. + +"You are to wait here," he said, turning to the driver, "for a lady and +a red-haired gentleman. Now understand, no one but a red-haired man is +to enter this car. Here is a pound, and if you don't make a mess of +things, the other gentleman will give you two more." + +"All right, sir; thank you, sir," exclaimed the astonished chauffeur, +greedily pocketing the gold piece. + +Cyril was certain that he had not been followed, and there was no sign +that the nursing home was being watched, but that did not reassure him. +Those curtained windows opposite might conceal a hundred prying eyes. + +When he was ushered into Miss Prentice's room, he was surprised to find +her already up and dressed. She held a mirror in one hand and with the +other was arranging a yellow wig, which encircled her face like an +aureole. Cyril could hardly restrain a cry of admiration. He had thought +her lovely before, but now her beauty was absolutely startling. + +On catching sight of him she dropped the mirror and ran to him with +outstretched hands. + +"Oh! I am so glad you have come. How do you like my hair?" she exclaimed +all in one breath. + +Cyril heroically disengaged himself from her soft, clinging clasp and +not daring to allow his eyes to linger on her upturned face, he surveyed +the article in question judicially. + +"For a wig it's not bad. I can't say, however, that I like anything +artificial," he asserted mendaciously. + +"You prefer my own hair!" she cried, and the corners of her mouth began +to droop in a way he had already begun to dread. "Oh! what shall I do? +Nurse tells me it will take ages and ages for it to grow again." + +"There, there, my dear, it's all right. You look lovely--" he paused +abruptly. + +"Oh, do I?" she cried, beaming with delight. "I am so glad you think +so!" + +"It doesn't matter what I think." + +"But it does," she insisted. + +Cyril turned resolutely away. This sort of thing must stop, he +determined. + +"I would like to ask you one thing." She hesitated a moment. "Are we +very poor?" + +"No, why?" + +"Then I could afford to have some pretty clothes?" + +"Certainly." + +"Oh, I'm so glad! I can't bear the ones I have on. I can't think why I +ever bought anything so ugly. I shall throw them away as soon as I can +get others. By the way, where is my box? Nurse tells me that I arrived +here with nothing but a small hand-bag." + +"It has gone astray," he stammered. "It will turn up soon, no doubt, but +in the meantime I have bought a few clothes for your immediate use." + +"Oh, have you? Where are they?" she cried, clapping her hands. + +Now was the crucial moment. He must introduce the subject of her +departure tactfully. + +"They are outside in a cab." + +She ran to the window. + +"But I see no cab." + +"It is waiting a little farther down the street." + +She looked bewildered. + +"Farther down--why?" + +"You trust me, don't you?" he said, looking earnestly at her. + +"Yes, of course." + +"Then, believe me, it is necessary for you to leave this place +immediately. I--you--are being pursued by some one who--who wishes to +separate us." + +"Oh, no, not that!" she cried. "But how can any one separate us, when +God has joined us together?" + +"It's a long story and I have no time to explain it now. All I ask is +that you will trust me blindly for the present, and do exactly what I +tell you to." + +"I will," she murmured submissively. + +"Thank you. Will you please call your nurse?" + +She touched a bell. + +The same middle-aged woman appeared of whom he had caught a glimpse on +his former visit. + +"Good-morning, nurse. Your patient seems pretty fit to-day." + +"Mrs. Thompkins is recovering very rapidly." + +"Can I speak to the doctor?" asked Cyril. + +"I am sorry, but he has just left." + +"Too bad!" Cyril knitted his brows as if the doctor's absence was an +unexpected disappointment. "Mrs. Thompkins must leave here at once and I +wanted to explain her precipitate departure to him." + +"You might telephone," suggested the nurse. + +"Yes, or better still, I shall call at his office. But his absence +places me in a most awkward predicament." + +Cyril paced the room several times as if in deep thought, then halted +before the nurse. + +"Well, there is no help for it. As the doctor is not here, I must +confide in you. Thompkins is not our real name. The doctor knows what +that is and it was on his advice that we discarded it for the time +being. I can't tell you our reason for this concealment nor why my wife +must not only leave this house as soon as possible, but must do so +unobserved. Will you help us?" + +"I--I don't know, sir," answered the nurse dubiously, staring at Cyril +in amazement. + +"If you will dress my wife in a nurse's uniform and see that she gets +out of here without being recognised, I will give you £100. Here is the +money." + +The nurse gave a gasp and backed away from the notes, which Cyril held +temptingly toward her. + +"Oh, I couldn't, sir, really I couldn't. The doctor would never forgive +me. Besides it seems so queer." + +"I promise you on my word of honour that the doctor need never know that +you helped us." + +But the woman only shook her head. + +"What makes you hesitate?" continued Cyril. "Do you think I am trying to +bribe you to do something dishonourable? Ah, that is it, is it?" He gave +a short laugh. "Look at my wife, does she look like a criminal, I ask +you?" + +"She certainly doesn't," answered the nurse, glancing eagerly from one +to the other and then longingly down at the money in Cyril's hand. + +"Well, then, why not trust your instinct in the matter? My wife and I +have been placed, through no fault of our own, in a very disagreeable +position. You will know the whole story some day, but for the present my +lips are sealed. International complications might arise if the truth +leaked out prematurely." Cyril felt that the last was a neat touch, for +the woman's face cleared and she repeated in an awe-struck voice: +"International complications!" + +"Germany! I can say no more," added Cyril in a stage whisper. + +"Ah! The wretches!" cried the nurse. "One never knows what they will be +at next. Of course I will help you. I ought to have known at once that +it was sure to be all right. Any one can see that you are a gentleman--a +soldier, I dare say?" + +"Never mind who or what I am. It is better that you should be able +truthfully to plead your complete ignorance. Now as to the uniform; have +you one to spare?" + +"Yes, indeed. I will go and get it immediately." + +"All this mystery frightens me," exclaimed Priscilla as soon as they +were alone. + +"You must be brave. Now listen attentively to what I am saying. On +leaving here----" + +"Oh, aren't you going with me?" she asked. + +"No, we must not be seen together, but I will join you later." + +"You will not leave me alone again?" + +"Not for long." + +"Promise." + +"I promise." + +"Very well, now tell me what I am to do." + +"On leaving this house you are to turn to your right and walk down the +street till you see a taxi with a box on it. A friend of mine, Guy +Campbell, will be inside. You can easily recognise him; he has red hair. +Campbell will drive you to a hotel where a lady is waiting for you and +where you are to stay till I can join you. If there should be any hitch +in these arrangements, go to this address and send a telegram to me at +the club. I have written all this down," he said, handing her a folded +paper. + +The nurse returned with her arms full of clothes. + +"Have you a thick veil?" asked Cyril. + +"There is a long one attached to the bonnet, but we never pull it over +our faces, and I am afraid if Mrs. Thompkins did so, it would attract +attention." + +"Yet something must be done to conceal her face." + +The nurse thought for a moment. + +"Leave that to me, sir. I used to help in private theatricals once upon +a time." + +"That is splendid! I will go downstairs now and wait till you have got +Mrs. Thompkins ready." + +"Give me a quarter of an hour and you will be astonished at the result." +She seemed to have thrown her whole heart into the business. + +When Cyril returned, he found Priscilla really transformed. Her yellow +curls had been plastered down on either side of her forehead. A pair of +tinted spectacles dimmed the brilliancy of her eyes and her dark, +finely-arched eyebrows had been rendered almost imperceptible by a +skilful application of grease and powder. With a burnt match the nurse +had drawn a few faint lines in the girlish face, so that she looked at +least ten years older, and all this artifice was made to appear natural +by means of a dingy, black net veil. A nurse's costume completed the +disguise. + +"You have done winders, nurse. I can't thank you enough," he exclaimed. + +"Don't I look a fright?" cried Priscilla a little ruefully. + +"No, you don't. That is just where the art comes in. You are not +noticeable one way or the other. It is admirable. And now you had better +be going." + +The nurse peered into the hall. + +"There is no one about just now. I will take Mrs. Thompkins to the front +door. If we are seen, it will be supposed that she is some friend of +mine who has been calling on me. I will watch till I see her safely in +the car," the nurse assured him. + +"Thanks." + +"By the way, as I have to pretend not to know of my patient's departure, +I had better not return till you have left." + +"All right. Good-bye, nurse. I shall stay here a quarter of an hour so +as to give you a good start. Good-bye, my dear." + +The next fifteen minutes seemed to Cyril the longest he had ever spent. +He did not even dare to follow Priscilla's progress from the window. +Watch in hand he waited till the time was up and then made his way +cautiously out of the house without, as luck would have it, encountering +any one. + +The taxi was no longer in sight! With a light heart Cyril walked briskly +to the doctor's office. + +"Well, Lord Wilmersley, what brings you here?" asked the doctor, when +Cyril was finally ushered into the august presence. + +"I have called to tell you that my wife has left the nursing home," +Cyril blurted out. + +"Impossible!" cried the doctor. "She was quite calm this morning. The +nurse would----" + +"The nurse had nothing to do with it," interrupted Cyril hastily. "It +was I who took her away." + +"You? But why this haste? I thought you had decided to wait till +to-morrow." + +"For family reasons, which I need not go into now, I thought it best +that she should be removed at once." + +"And may I know where she is?" inquired the doctor, looking searchingly +at Cyril. + +"I intend to take her to Geralton--in--in a few days." + +"Indeed!" The doctor's upper lip lengthened perceptibly. + +"So you do not wish me to know where you have hidden her." + +"Hidden her?" Cyril raised his eyebrows deprecatingly. "That is a +strange expression to use. It seems to me that a man has certainly the +right to withhold his wife's address from a comparative stranger without +being accused of hiding her. You should really choose your words more +carefully, my dear sir." + +The doctor glared at Cyril for a moment, then rising abruptly he paced +the room several times. + +"It's no use," he said at last, stopping in front of Cyril. "You can't +persuade me that there is not some mystery connected with Lady +Wilmersley. And I warn you that I have determined to find out the +truth." + +Cyril's heart gave an uncomfortable jump, but he managed to keep his +face impassive. + +"A mystery? What an amusing idea! A man of your imagination is really +wasted in the medical profession. You should write, my dear doctor, you +really should. But, granting for the sake of argument that I have +something to conceal, what right have you to try to force my confidence? +My wife's movements are surely no concern of yours." + +"One has not only the right, but it becomes one's obvious duty to +interfere, when one has reason to believe that by doing so one may +prevent the ill-treatment of a helpless woman." + +"Do you really think I ill-treat my wife?" + +"I think it is possible. And till I am sure that my fears are unfounded, +I will not consent to Lady Wilmersley's remaining in your sole care." + +"Do you mind telling me what basis you have for such a monstrous +suspicion?" asked Cyril very quietly. + +"Certainly. You bring me a young lady who has been flogged. You tell me +that she is your wife, yet you profess to know nothing of her injuries +and give an explanation which, although not impossible, is at all events +highly improbable. This lady, who is not only beautiful but charming, +you neglect in the most astonishing manner. No, I am not forgetting that +you had other pressing duties to attend to, but even so, if you had +cared for your wife, you could not have remained away from her as you +did. It was nothing less than heartless to leave a poor young woman, in +the state she was in, alone among strangers. Your letter only partially +satisfied me. Your arguments would have seemed to me perfectly +unconvincing, if I had not been so anxious to believe the best. As it +was, although I tried to ignore it, a root of suspicion still lingered +in my mind. Then, when you finally do turn up, instead of hurrying to +your wife's bedside you try in every way to avoid meeting her till at +last I have to insist upon your doing so. I tell you, that if she had +not shown such marked affection for you, I should have had no doubt of +your guilt." + +"Nonsense! Do I look like a wife-beater?" + +"No, but the only murderess I ever knew looked like one of Raphael's +Madonnas." + +"Thanks for the implication." Cyril bowed sarcastically. + +"The more I observed Mrs. Thompkins," continued the doctor, "the more I +became convinced that a severe shock was responsible for her amnesia, +and that she had never been insane nor was she at all likely to become +so." + +"Even physicians are occasionally mistaken in their diagnosis, I have +been told." + +"You are right; that is why I have given you the benefit of the doubt," +replied the doctor calmly. "This morning, however, I made a discovery, +which practically proves that my suspicions were not unfounded." + +"And pray what is this great discovery of yours?" drawled Cyril. + +"I had been worrying about this case all night, when it suddenly +occurred to me to consult the peerage. I wanted to find out who Lady +Wilmersley's people were, so that I might communicate with them if I +considered it necessary. The first thing I found was that your wife was +born in 18--, so that now she is in her twenty-eighth year. My patient +is certainly not more than twenty. How do you account for this +discrepancy in their ages?" + +Cyril forced himself to smile superciliously. + +"And is my wife's youthful appearance your only reason for doubting her +identity?" + +The doctor seemed a little staggered by Cyril's nonchalant manner. + +"It is my chief reason, but as I have just taken the trouble to explain, +not my only one." + +"Oh, really! And if she is not my wife, whom do you suspect her of +being?" + +"I have no idea." + +"You astonish me." In trying to conceal his agitation Cyril +unfortunately assumed an air of frigid detachment, which only served to +exasperate the doctor still further. + +"Your manner is insulting, my lord." + +"Your suspicions are so flattering!" drawled Cyril. + +The doctor glared at Cyril for a moment but seemed at a loss for a +crushing reply. + +"You must acknowledge that appearances are against you," he said at +last, making a valiant effort to control his temper. "If you are a man +of honour, you ought to appreciate that my position is a very difficult +one and to be as ready to forgive me, if I have erred through excessive +zeal, as I shall be to apologise to you. Now let me ask you one more +question. Why were you so anxious that I should not see the jewels?" + +"Oh, had you not seen them? I thought, of course, that you had. I +apologise for not having satisfied your curiosity." + +There was a short pause during which the doctor looked long and +searchingly at Cyril. + +"I can't help it. I feel that there is something fishy about this +business. You can't convince me to the contrary." + +"I was not aware that I was trying to do so." + +The doctor almost danced with rage. + +"Lord Wilmersley--for I suppose you are Lord Wilmersley?" + +"Unless I am his valet, Peter Thompkins." + +"I know nothing about you," cried the doctor, "and you have succeeded to +your title under very peculiar circumstances, my lord." + +"So you suspect me not only of flogging my wife but of murdering my +cousin!" laughed Cyril. "My dear doctor, don't you realise that if there +were the slightest grounds for your suspicions, the police would have +put me under surveillance long ago. Why, I can easily prove that I was +in Paris at the time of the murder." + +"Oh, you are clever! I don't doubt that you have an impeccable alibi. +But if I informed the police that you were passing off as your wife a +girl several years younger than Lady Wilmersley, a girl, moreover, who, +you acknowledged, joined you at Newhaven the very morning after the +murder--if I told them that this young lady had in her possession a +remarkable number of jewels, which she carried in a cheap, black +bag--what do you think they would say to that, my lord?" + +Cyril felt cold chills creeping down his back and the palms of his hands +grew moist. Not a flicker of an eyelash, however, betrayed his inward +tumult. "They would no doubt pay as high a tribute to your imagination +as I do," he answered. + +Then, abandoning his careless pose, he sat up in his chair. + +"You have been insulting me for the last half-hour, and I have borne it +very patiently, partly because your absurd suspicions amused me, and +partly because I realised that, although you are a fool, you are an +honest fool." + +"Sir!" The doctor turned purple in the face. + +"You can hardly resent being called a fool by a man you have been +accusing of murder and wife-beating. But I don't want you to go to the +police with this cock-and-bull story----" + +"Ah! I thought not," sneered the doctor. + +"Because," continued Cyril, ignoring the interruption, "I want to +protect my wife from unpleasant notoriety, and also, although you don't +deserve it, to keep you from becoming a public laughing stock. So far +you have done all the talking; now you are to listen to me. Sit down. +You make me nervous strutting about like that. Sit down, I tell you. +There, that's better. Now let us see what all this rigmarole really +amounts to. You began by asking for my wife's address, and when I did +not immediately gratify what I considered your impertinent curiosity, +you launch forth into vague threats of exposure. As far as I can make +out from your disjointed harangue, your excuse for prying into my +affairs is that by doing so you are protecting a helpless woman from +further ill-treatment. Very well. Granting that you really suppose me to +be a brute, your behaviour might be perfectly justified if--if you +believed that your patient is my wife. But you tell me that you do not. +You think that she is either my mistress or my accomplice, or both. Now, +if she is a criminal and an immoral woman, you must admit that she has +shown extraordinary cleverness, inasmuch as she succeeded not only in +eluding the police but in deceiving you. For the impression she made on +you was a very favourable one, was it not? She seemed to you unusually +innocent as well as absolutely frank, didn't she?" + +"Yes," acknowledged the doctor. + +"Now, if she was able to dupe so trained an observer as yourself, she +must be a remarkable woman, and cannot be the helpless creature you +picture her, and consequently would be in no danger of being forced to +submit to abuse from any one." + +"True," murmured the doctor. + +"But I think I can prove to you that you were not mistaken in your first +estimate of her character. This illness of hers--was it real or could it +have been feigned?" + +"It was real. There is no doubt about that." + +"You saw her when she was only semi-conscious, when she was physically +incapable of acting a part--did she during that time, either by word or +look, betray moral perversity?" + +"She did not." The doctor's anger had abated and he was listening to +Cyril intently. + +"How, then, can you doubt her? And if she is what she seems, she is +certainly neither my mistress nor a thief; and if she is not the one nor +the other, she must be my wife, and if you go to the police with your +absurd suspicions, you will only succeed in making yourself ridiculous." + +There was a pause during which the two men eyed each other keenly. + +"You make a great point of the fact that my wife had in her possession a +number of valuable ornaments," continued Cyril. "But why should she not? +My wife insisted on having all her jewelry with her at Charleroi, and +when she escaped from there, they were among the few things she took +with her. The excitement of meeting her so unexpectedly and her sudden +illness made me forget all about them, otherwise I would have taken them +out of the bag, which, as you may have noticed, was not even locked. But +the very fact that I did forget all about them and allowed them to pass +through the hands of nurses and servants, that alone ought to convince +you that I did not come by them dishonestly. You had them for days in +your possession; yet you accuse me of having prevented you from +examining them. That is really ridiculous! Your whole case against me is +built on the wildest conjectures, from which you proceed to draw +perfectly untenable inferences. My wife looks young for her age, I grant +you; but even you would not venture to swear positively that she is not +twenty-eight. You fancied that I neglected her; consequently I am a +brute. She is sane now; so you believe that she has never been +otherwise. You imagined that I did not wish you to examine the contents +of my wife's bag, therefore the Wilmersley jewels must have been in it." + +"What you say sounds plausible enough," acknowledged the doctor, "and it +seems impossible to associate you with anything cruel, mean, or even +underhand, and yet--and yet--I have an unaccountable feeling that you +are not telling me the truth. When I try to analyse my impressions, I +find that I distrust not you but your story. You have, however, +convinced me that I have no logical basis for my suspicions. That being +the case, I shall do nothing for the present. But, if at the end of a +fortnight I do not hear that Lady Wilmersley has arrived in England, and +has taken her place in the world, then I shall believe that my instinct +has not been at fault, and shall do my best to find out what has become +of her, even at the risk of creating a scandal or of being laughed at +for my pains. But I don't care, I shall feel that I have done my duty. +In the meantime I shall write to Dr. Monet. Now I have given you a fair +warning, which you can act on as you see fit." + +What an unerring scent the man had for falsehood, thought Cyril with +unwilling admiration. It was really wonderful the way he disregarded +probabilities and turned a deaf ear to reason. He was a big man, Cyril +grudgingly admitted. + +"I suppose you will not believe me if I tell you that I have no personal +animosity toward you, Lord Wilmersley?" + +"I know that. And some day we'll laugh over this episode together," +replied Cyril, with a heartiness which surprised himself. + +"Now that is nice of you," cried the doctor. "My temper is rather hasty, +I am sorry to say, and though I don't remember all I said just now, I am +sure, I was unnecessarily disagreeable." + +"Well, I called you a fool," grinned Cyril. + +"So you did, so you did, and may I live to acknowledge that I richly +deserve the appellation." + +And so their interview terminated with unexpected friendliness. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +CAMPBELL REMONSTRATES + + +In his note to Guy, Cyril had asked the latter to join him at his club +as soon as he had left Priscilla at the hotel, and so when the time +passed and his friend neither came nor telephoned, Cyril's anxiety knew +no bounds. + +What could have happened? thought Cyril. Had Priscilla been arrested? In +that case, however, Guy would surely have communicated with him at once, +for the police could have had no excuse for detaining the latter. + +Several acquaintances he had not seen for years greeted him cordially, +but he met their advances so half-heartedly that they soon left him to +himself, firmly convinced that the title had turned his head. Only one, +an old friend of his father's, refused to be shaken off and sat prosing +away quite oblivious of his listener's preoccupation till the words +"your wife" arrested Cyril's wandering attention. + +"Yes," the Colonel was saying, "too bad that you should have this added +worry just now. Taken ill on the train, too--most awkward." + +Cyril was so startled that he could only repeat idiotically: "My wife?" + +"Am I wrong?" exclaimed the Colonel, evidently at a loss to understand +Cyril's perturbation. "Your wife is in town, isn't she, and ill?" + +What should he answer? He dared not risk a denial. + +"Who told you that she was ill?" he asked. + +"It was in the morning papers. Didn't you see it?" + +"In the papers!" + +Cyril realised at once that he ought to have foreseen that this was +bound to have occurred. Too many people knew the story for it not to +have leaked out eventually. + +"I have not had time to read them to-day," replied Cyril as soon as he +was able to collect his wits a little. "What did they say?" + +"Only that your wife had been prostrated by the shock of Wilmersley's +murder, and had to be removed from the train to a nursing home." + +"It's a bore that it got into the papers. My wife is only suffering from +a slight indisposition and will be all right in a day or two," Cyril +hastened to assure him. + +"Glad to hear it. I must meet her. Where is she staying at present?" + +"She--she is still at the nursing home--but she is leaving there +to-morrow." Then fearing that more questions were impending, Cyril +seized the Colonel's hand and shaking it vehemently exclaimed: "I must +write some letters. So glad to have had this chat with you," and without +giving the Colonel time to answer, he fled from the room. + +Cyril looked at his watch. Ten minutes to three! Guy must have met with +an accident. Suddenly an alarming possibility occurred to him,--what if +the police had traced the jewels to Campbell? The bag, which had +disappeared, must have been taken by them. Griggs, when he inquired so +innocently about "Lady Wilmersley," had been fully cognisant of the +girl's identity. What was to be done now? He could not remain passive +and await developments. He must--was that--could that be Campbell +sauntering so leisurely toward him? Indeed it was! + +"What has happened?" asked Cyril in a hoarse whisper, dragging his +friend into a secluded corner. "Tell me at once." + +"Nothing, my dear boy. I am afraid I kept you waiting longer than I +intended to. I hope you have not been anxious?" Guy seemed, however, +quite unconcerned. + +"Anxious!" exclaimed Cyril indignantly. "Well, rather! How could you +have kept me in such suspense? Why didn't you come to me at once on +leaving Miss Prentice?" + +"But I did. I have just left her." + +"And she is really all right? The governess, Miss What's her name, is +with her?" + +"Certainly. But I didn't want to leave Mrs. Thompkins alone with a +stranger in a strange place, so I stayed and lunched with them." + +Cyril almost choked with rage. _He_ had had no lunch at all. He had been +too upset to think of such a thing and all the time they--oh! It was too +abominable! Campbell was a selfish little brute. He would never forgive +him, thought Cyril, scowling down at the complacent offender. For he was +complacent, that was the worst of it. From the top of his sleek, red +head to the tips of his immaculate boots, he radiated a triumphant +self-satisfaction. What was the matter with the man? wondered Cyril. He +seemed indefinably changed. There was a jauntiness about him--a light in +his eyes which Cyril did not remember to have noticed before. And what +was the meaning of those two violets drooping so sentimentally in his +buttonhole? Cyril stared at the flowers as if hypnotised. + +"So you liked Miss Prentice?" he managed to say, controlling himself +with an effort. + +"Rather! But I say, Cyril, it's all rot about her being that Prentice +woman." + +"Ah, you think so?" + +"I don't think--I know. Why, she speaks French like a native." + +"How did you find that out?" asked Cyril, forgetting his indignation in +his surprise at this new development. + +"We had a duffer of a waiter who understood very little English, so Mrs. +Thompkins spoke to him in French, and such French! It sounded like the +real thing." + +Cyril was dumfounded. How could a girl brought up in a small inland +village, which she had left only six months before, have learnt French? +And then he remembered that the doctor had told him that she had +retained a dim recollection of Paris. Why had the significance of that +fact not struck him before? + +"But if she is not Priscilla Prentice, who on earth can she be? She +can't be Anita Wilmersley!" he exclaimed. + +"Of course not. She--she--" Guy paused at a loss for a suggestion. + +"And yet, if she is not the sempstress, she must be Anita!" + +"Why?" + +"Because of the jewels in her bag." + +"I don't believe they are the Wilmersley jewels----" + +"There is no doubt as to that. I have the list somewhere and you can +easily verify it." + +"Then the bag is not hers. It may have been left in the seat by some one +else." + +"She opened it in my presence." + +"But you proved to me last night that she could not be Lady Wilmersley," +insisted Guy. + +"So I did. Anita has masses of bright, yellow hair. This girl's hair is +dark." + +"Well, then----" + +"There seems no possible explanation to the enigma," acknowledged Cyril. + +"Perhaps she wore a wig." + +"She did not. When she fainted I loosened her veil and a strand of her +hair caught in my fingers. It was her own, I can swear to that." + +"She may have dyed it." + +"I never thought of that," exclaimed Cyril. "No, I don't think she could +have had time to dye it. It takes hours, I believe. At nine, when she +was last seen, she had made no attempt to alter her appearance. Now +Wilmersley was----" + +"Hold on," cried Guy. "You told me, did you not, that she had cut off +her hair because it had turned white?" + +"Yes," assented Cyril. + +"Very well, then, that disposes of the possibility of its having been +dyed." + +"So it does. And yet, she carried the Wilmersley jewels, that is a fact +we must not forget." + +"Then she must be a hitherto unsuspected factor in the case." + +"Possibly, and yet---" + +"Yet what?" + +"I confess I have no other solution to offer. Oh, by the way, what is +the number of her room?" + +Guy stiffened perceptibly. + +"I don't think I remember it." + +"How annoying! I particularly asked you to make a note of it!" + +"Oh, did you?" Guy's face was averted and he toyed nervously with his +eye-glass. + +"Of course I did. You must realise--in fact we discussed it +together--that I must be able to see her." + +"As there is nothing that you can do for her, why should you compromise +her still further?" + +"What do you mean?" + +"I mean that you ought not to take further advantage of her peculiar +affliction so as to play the part of a devoted husband." + +"This is outrageous--" began Cyril, but Campbell cut him short. + +"While you fancied that she was in need of your assistance, I grant that +there was some excuse for your conduct, but to continue the farce any +longer would be positively dishonourable." + +Cyril was so surprised at Campbell's belligerent tone that for a moment +it rendered him speechless. From a boy Guy had always been his humble +admirer. What could have wrought this sudden change in him? wondered +Cyril. Again his eyes lingered on the violets. It was not possible! And +yet Cyril had often suspected that under Guy's obvious shrewdness there +lurked a vein of romanticism. And as Cyril surveyed his friend, his +wrath slowly cooled. For the first time it occurred to him that +Campbell's almost comic exterior must be a real grief to a man of his +temperament. His own appearance had always seemed to Cyril such a +negligible quantity that he shrank from formulating even in his own mind +the reason why he felt that it would be absurd to fear Guy as a rival. A +man who is not to be feared is a man to be pitied, and it was this +unacknowledged pity, together with a sudden suspicion of the possible +tragedy of his friend's life, which allayed Cyril's indignation and made +him finally reply gently: + +"I think you are mistaken. I am sure she still needs me." + +"She does not. Miss Trevor and I are quite able to look after her." + +"I don't doubt your goodwill, my dear Guy, but what about her feelings?" + +"Feelings! I like that! Do you fancy that her feelings are concerned? Do +you imagine that she will be inconsolable at your absence?" + +"You appear to forget that she believes me to be her husband. Her +pride--her vanity will be hurt if I appear to neglect her." Cyril still +spoke very quietly. + +"Then I will tell her the truth at once," exclaimed Campbell. + +"And risk the recurrence of her illness? Remember the doctor insisted +that she must on no account be agitated." + +"Why should it agitate her to be told that you are not her husband? I +should think it would be a jolly sight more agitating to believe one's +self bound to a perfect stranger. It is a wonder it has not driven the +poor child crazy." + +"Luckily she took the sad news very calmly," Cyril could not refrain +from remarking. Really, Guy was intolerable and he longed with a +primitive longing to punch his head. But he had to control himself. Guy +was capable of being nasty, if not handled carefully. So he hastily +continued: + +"How can you undeceive her on one point without explaining the whole +situation to her?" + +"I--" began Guy, "I--" He paused. + +"Exactly. Even you have no solution to offer. Even you have to +acknowledge that the relief of knowing that she is not my wife might be +offset by learning not only that we are quite in the dark as to who she +is, but that at any moment she may be arrested on a charge of murder." + +"I don't know what to do!" murmured Guy helplessly. + +"Do nothing for the present." + +"Nothing!" exclaimed Guy. "Nothing! And leave you to insinuate yourself +into her--affections! She must be told the truth some day, but by that +time she may have grown to--to--love you." Guy gulped painfully over the +word. "You are a married man. That fact evidently seems 'too trifling' +to be considered, but I fancy she will not regard it as casually as you +do." + +"This is absurd," began Cyril, but Guy intercepted him. + +"You feel free to do as you please because you expect to get a divorce, +but you have not got it yet, remember, and in the meantime your wife may +bring a countersuit, naming Miss--Mrs. Thompkins as corespondent." + +This suggestion staggered Cyril for a moment. + +"And in that case," continued Campbell, "she would probably think that +she ought to marry you. After having been dragged through the filth of a +divorce court, she would imagine herself too besmirched to give herself +to any other man. And your wealth, your title, and your precious self +may not seem to her as desirable as you suppose. She is the sort of girl +who would think them a poor exchange for the loss of her reputation and +her liberty of choice. When she discovers how you have compromised her +by your asinine stupidity, I don't fancy that she will take a lenient +view of your conduct." + +"You seem to forget that if I had not shielded her with my name, she +would undoubtedly have been arrested on the train." + +"Oh, I don't doubt you meant well." + +"Thanks," murmured Cyril sarcastically. + +"All I say is that you must not see her again till this mystery is +cleared up. I didn't forget about the number of her apartment, but I +wasn't going to help you to sneak in to her at all hours. Now, if you +want to see her, you will have to go boldly up to the hotel and have +yourself properly announced. And I don't think you will care about +that." + +"I promised to see her. I shall not break my word." + +"I don't care a fig for your promises. You shan't see her as long as she +believes you to be her husband." + +Luckily the room was empty, for both men had risen to their feet. + +"I shall see her," repeated Cyril. + +"If you do, I warn you that I shall tell her the truth and risk the +consequences. She shall not, if I can help it, be placed in a position +where she will be forced to marry a man who has, after all, lived his +life. She ought--" Guy paused abruptly. + +"She ought, in other words, to be given the choice between my battered +heart and your virgin affections. Is that it?" + +"I mean----" + +"Oh, you have made your meaning quite clear, I assure you!" interrupted +Cyril. "But what you have been saying is sheer nonsense. You have been +calling me to account for things that have not happened, and blaming me +for what I have not done. She is not being dragged through the divorce +court, and I see no reason to suppose that she ever will be. I am not +trying to force her to marry me, and can promise that I shall never do +so. Far from taking advantage of the situation, I assure you my conduct +has been most circumspect. Don't cross a bridge till you get to it, and +don't accuse a man of being a cad just because--" Cyril paused abruptly +and looked at Guy, and as he did so, his expression slowly relaxed till +he finally smiled indulgently--"just because a certain lady is very +charming," he added. + +But Guy was not to be pacified. He would neither retract nor modify his +ultimatum. He knew, of course, that Cyril would not dare to write the +girl; for if the letter miscarried or was found by the police, it might +be fatal to both. + +But while they were still heatedly debating the question, a way suddenly +occurred to Cyril by which he could communicate with her with absolute +safety. So he waited placidly for Guy to take himself off, which he +eventually did, visibly elated at having, as he thought, effectually put +a stop to further intercourse between the two. He had hardly left the +club, however, before Cyril was talking to Priscilla over the telephone! +He explained to her as best he could that he had been called out of town +for a few days, and begged her on no account to leave her apartments +till he returned. He also tried to impress on her that she had better +talk about him as little as possible and above all things not to mention +either to Campbell or Miss Trevor that she had heard from him and +expected to see him before long. + +It cost Cyril a tremendous effort to restrict himself to necessary +instructions and polite inquiries, especially as she kept begging him to +come back to her as soon as possible. Finally he could bear the strain +no longer, and in the middle of a sentence he resolutely hung up the +receiver. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +WHAT IS THE TRUTH? + + +When Cyril arrived in Newhaven that evening, he was unpleasantly +surprised to find, as he got out of the train, that Judson had been +travelling in the adjoining compartment. Had the man been following him, +or was it simply chance that had brought them together, he wondered. Oh! +If he could only get rid of the fellow! + +"You have come to see me, I suppose," he remarked ungraciously. + +"Yes, my lord." + +"Very well, then, get into the car." + +Cyril was in no mood to talk, so the first part of the way was +accomplished in silence, but at last, thinking that he might as well +hear what the man had to say, he turned to him and asked: + +"Have you found out anything of any importance?" + +"I fancy so, my lord." + +"Really! Well, what is it?" + +"If you will excuse me, my lord, I should suggest that we wait till we +get to the castle," replied Judson, casting a meaning look at the +chauffeur's back. + +"Just as you please." His contempt for Judson was so great that Cyril +was not very curious to hear his revelations. + +"Now," said Cyril, as he flung himself into a low chair before the +library fire, "what have you to tell me?" + +Before answering Judson peered cautiously around; then, drawing forward +a straight-backed chair, he seated himself close to Cyril and folded his +hands in his lap. + +"In dealing with my clients," he began, "I make it a rule instead of +simply stating the results of my work to show them how I arrive at my +conclusions. Having submitted to them all the facts I have collected, +they are able to judge for themselves as to the value of the evidence on +which my deductions are based. And so, my lord, I should like to go over +the whole case with you from the very beginning." + +Cyril gave a grunt which Judson evidently construed into an assent, for +he continued even more glibly: + +"The first point I considered was, whether her Ladyship had premeditated +her escape. But in order to determine this, we must first decide whom +she could have got to help her to accomplish such a purpose. The most +careful inquiry has failed to reveal any one who would have been both +willing and able to do so, except the sempstress, and as both mistress +and maid disappeared almost simultaneously, one's first impulse is to +take it for granted that Prentice was her Ladyship's accomplice. This is +what every one, Scotland Yard included, believes." + +"And you do not?" + +"Before either accepting or rejecting this theory, I decided to visit +this girl's home. I did not feel clear in my mind about her. All the +servants were impressed by her manner and personality, the butler +especially so, and he more than hinted that there must be some mystery +attached to her. One of the things that stimulated their curiosity was +that she kept up a daily correspondence with some one in Plumtree. On +reaching the village I called at once on the vicar. He is an elderly +man, much respected and beloved by his parishioners. I found him in a +state of great excitement, having just read in the paper of Prentice's +disappearance. I had no difficulty in inducing him to tell me the main +facts of her history; the rest I picked up from the village gossips. The +girl is a foundling. And till she came to Geralton she was an inmate of +the vicar's household. He told me that he would have adopted her, but +knowing that he had not sufficient means to provide for her future, he +wisely refrained from educating her above her station. Nevertheless, I +gathered that the privilege of his frequent companionship had refined +her speech and manners, and I am told that she now could pass muster in +any drawing-room." + +"Did she ever learn French?" interrupted Cyril, eagerly. + +"Not that I know of, and I do not believe the vicar would have taught +her an accomplishment so useless to one in her position." + +"Did she ever go to France?" + +"Never. But, why do you ask?" + +"No matter--I--but go on with your story." + +"Owing partly to the mystery which surrounded her birth and gave rise to +all sorts of rumours, and partly to her own personality, the gentry of +the neighbourhood made quite a pet of her. As a child she was asked +occasionally to play with the Squire's crippled daughter and later she +used to go to the Hall three times a week to read aloud to her. So, +notwithstanding the vicar's good intentions, she grew up to be neither +'fish, flesh, fowl, nor good red herring.' Now all went well till about +a year ago, when the Squire's eldest son returned home and fell in love +with her. His people naturally opposed the match and, as he is entirely +dependent upon them, there seemed no possibility of his marrying her. +The girl appeared broken-hearted, and when she came to the castle, every +one, the vicar included, thought the affair at an end. I am sure, +however, that such was not the case, for as no one at the vicarage wrote +to her daily, the letters she received must have come from her young +man. Furthermore, she told the servants that she had a cousin in +Newhaven, but as she has not a relative in the world, this is obviously +a falsehood. Who, then, is this mysterious person she visited? It seems +to me almost certain that it was her lover." + +"Possibly," agreed Cyril. "But I don't quite see what you are trying to +prove by all this. If Prentice did not help her Ladyship to escape, who +did?" + +"I have not said that Prentice is not a factor in the case, only I +believe her part to have been a very subordinate one. Of one thing, +however, I am sure, and that is that she did not return to Geralton on +the night of the murder." + +"How can you be sure of that?" demanded Cyril. + +"Because she asked for permission early in the morning to spend the +night in Newhaven and had already left the castle before the doctors' +visit terminated. Now, although I think it probable that her Ladyship +may for a long time have entertained the idea of leaving Geralton, yet I +believe that it was the doctors' visit that gave the necessary impetus +to convert her idle longing into definite action. Therefore I conclude +that Prentice could have had no knowledge of her mistress's sudden +flight." + +"But how can you know that the whole thing had not been carefully +premeditated?" + +"Because her Ladyship showed such agitation and distress at hearing the +doctors' verdict. If her plans for leaving the castle had been +completed, she would have accepted the situation more calmly." + +"Has nothing been heard of these doctors?" + +"Nothing. We have been able to trace them only as far as London. They +could not have been reputable physicians or they would have answered our +advertisements, and so I am inclined to believe that you were right and +that it was his Lordship who spread the rumours of her Ladyship's +insanity." + +"I am sure of it," said Cyril. + +"Very good. Assuming, therefore, that Lady Wilmersley is sane, we will +proceed to draw logical inferences from her actions." Judson paused a +moment before continuing: "Now I am convinced that the only connection +Prentice had with the affair was to procure some clothes for her +mistress, and these had probably been sometime in the latter's +possession." + +"H'm!" ejaculated Cyril sceptically. "I think it would have been pretty +difficult to have concealed anything from that maid of hers." + +"Difficult, I grant you, but not impossible, my lord." + +"But if Prentice had no knowledge of the tragedy, why did she not return +to the castle? What has become of her? Why have the police been unable +to find her?" + +"I believe that she joined her lover and that they are together on the +continent, for in Plumtree I was told that the young man had recently +gone to Paris. As I am sure that she knows nothing of any importance, I +thought it useless to waste time and money trying to discover their +exact locality. That the police have not succeeded in finding her, I +ascribe to the fact that they are looking for a young woman who left +Newhaven after and not before the murder." + +"You think she left before?" + +"Yes, and I have two reasons for this supposition. First, I can discover +no place where he or she, either separately or together, could have +spent the night. Secondly, if they had left Newhaven the following +morning or in fact at any time after the murder, they would certainly +have been apprehended, as all the boats and trains were most carefully +watched." + +"But no one knew of her disappearance till twenty-four hours later, and +during that interval she could easily have got away unobserved." + +"No, my lord, there you are mistaken. From the moment that the police +were notified that a crime had been committed, every one, especially +every woman, who left Newhaven was most attentively scrutinised." + +"You are certain that Prentice could not have left Newhaven unnoticed, +yet her Ladyship managed to do so! How do you account for that?" + +The detective paused a moment and looked fixedly at Cyril. + +"Her Ladyship had a very powerful protector, my lord," he finally said. + +"A protector! Who?" + +Again the detective did not reply immediately. + +"It's no use beating about the bush, my lord, I know everything." + +"Well then, out with it," cried Cyril impatiently. "What are you +hesitating for? Have you found her Ladyship or have you not?" + +"I have, my lord." + +"You have! Then why on earth didn't you tell me at once? Where is she?" +cried Cyril. + +There was a pause during which the detective regarded Cyril through +narrowed lids. + +"She is at present at the nursing home of Dr. Stuart-Smith," he said at +last. + +"Nonsense!" exclaimed Cyril, sinking back into his chair and negligently +lighting another cigarette. "I thought you had discovered something. You +mean my wife, Lady Wilmersley----" + +"Pardon me for interrupting you, my lord. I don't make mistakes like +that. I repeat, the Dowager Lady Wilmersley is under the care of Dr. +Smith." + +The man's tone was so assured that Cyril was staggered for a moment. + +"It isn't true," he asserted angrily. + +"Is it possible that you really do not know who the lady is that you +rescued that day from the police?" exclaimed the detective, startled out +of his habitual impassivity. + +"I confess that I do not. But of one thing I am sure, and that is that +she is not the person you suppose." + +"Well, my lord, I must say that you have surprised me. Yet I ought to +have guessed it. It was stupid of me, very." + +"I tell you that you are on the wrong track. Lady Wilmersley has golden +hair. Well, this lady's hair is black." + +"She has dyed it." + +"She has not, for it has turned completely white," exclaimed Cyril, +triumphantly. + +"Did she tell you so?" + +"Yes." + +"Her Ladyship is cleverer than I supposed," remarked the detective with +a pitying smile. + +"I am not such a fool as you seem to think," retorted Cyril. "And I can +assure you that the lady in question is incapable of deception." + +"All I can say is, my lord, that I am absolutely sure of her Ladyship's +identity and that you yourself gave me the clue to her whereabouts." + +"I--how?" + +"I of course noticed that when you heard her Ladyship had golden hair, +you were not only extremely surprised but also very much relieved. I at +once asked myself why such an apparently trivial matter should have so +great and so peculiar an effect on you. As you had never seen her +Ladyship, I argued that you must that very day have met some one you had +reason to suppose to be Lady Wilmersley and that this person had dark +hair. By following your movements from the time you landed I found that +the only woman with whom you had come in contact was a young lady who +had joined you in Newhaven, and that she answered to the description of +Lady Wilmersley in every particular, with the sole exception that she +had dark hair! I was, however, told that you had said that she was your +wife and had produced a passport to prove it. Now I had heard from your +valet that her Ladyship was still in France, so you can hardly blame me +for doubting the correctness of your statement. But in order to make +assurance doubly sure, I sent one of my men to the continent. He +reported that her Ladyship had for some months been a patient at +Charleroi, but had recently escaped from there, and that you are still +employing detectives to find her." + +"I did not engage you to pry into my affairs," exclaimed Cyril savagely. + +"Nor have I exceeded my duty as I conceive it," retorted the detective. +"As your Lordship refused to honour me with your confidence, I had to +find out the facts by other means; and you must surely realise that +without facts it is impossible for me to construct a theory, and till I +can do that my work is practically valueless." + +"But my wife has nothing to do with the case." + +"Quite so, my lord, but a lady who claimed to be her Ladyship is +intimately concerned with it." + +"I repeat that is all nonsense." + +"If your Lordship will listen to me, I think I can prove to you that as +far as the lady's identity is concerned, I have made no mistake. But to +do this convincingly, I must reconstruct the tragedy as I conceive that +it happened." + +"Go ahead; I don't mind hearing your theory." + +"First, I must ask you to take it for granted that I am right in +believing that Prentice was ignorant of her Ladyship's flight." + +"I will admit that much," agreed Cyril. + +"Thank you, my lord. Now let us try and imagine exactly what was her +Ladyship's position on the night of the murder. Her first care must have +been to devise some means of eluding his Lordship's vigilance. This was +a difficult problem, for Mustapha tells me that his Lordship was not +only a very light sleeper but that he suffered from chronic insomnia. +You may or may not know that his Lordship had long been addicted to the +opium habit and would sometimes for days together lie in a stupor. Large +quantities of the drug were found in his room and that explains how her +Ladyship managed to get hold of the opium with which she doctored his +Lordship's coffee." + +"This is, however, mere supposition on your part," objected Cyril. + +"Not at all, my lord. I had the sediment of the two cups analysed and +the chemist found that one of them contained a small quantity of opium. +Her Ladyship, being practically ignorant as to the exact nature of the +drug and of the effect it would have on a man who was saturated with it, +gave his Lordship too small a dose. Nevertheless, he became immediately +stupefied." + +"Now, how on earth can you know that?" + +"Very easily, my lord. If his Lordship had not been rendered at once +unconscious, he would--knowing that an attempt had been made to drug +him--have sounded the alarm and deputed Mustapha to guard her Ladyship, +which was what he always did when he knew that he was not equal to the +task." + +"Well, that sounds plausible, at all events," acknowledged Cyril. + +"As soon as her Ladyship knew that she was no longer watched," continued +the detective, "she at once set to work to disguise herself. As we know, +she had provided herself with clothes, but I fancy her hair, her most +noticeable feature, must have caused her some anxious moments." + +"She may have worn a wig," suggested Cyril, hoping that Judson would +accept this explanation of the difficulty, in which case he would be +able triumphantly to demolish the latter's theory of the girl's +identity, by stating that he could positively swear that her hair was +her own. + +"No, my lord. After carefully investigating the matter I have come to +the conclusion that she did not. And my reasons are, first, that no +hairdresser in Newhaven has lately sold a dark wig to any one, and, +secondly, that no parcel arrived, addressed either to her Ladyship or to +Prentice, which could have contained such an article. On the other hand, +as his Lordship had for years dyed his hair and beard, her Ladyship had +only to go into his dressing-room to procure a very simple means of +transforming herself." + +"But doesn't it take ages to dye hair?" asked Cyril. + +"If it is done properly, yes; but the sort of stain his Lordship used +can be very quickly applied. I do not believe it took her Ladyship more +than half an hour to dye enough of her hair to escape notice, but in all +probability she had no time to do it very thoroughly and that which +escaped may have turned white. I don't know anything about that." + +This was a possibility which had not occurred to Cyril; but still he +refused to be convinced. + +"Very well, my lord. Let me continue my story: Before her Ladyship had +completed her preparations, his Lordship awoke from his stupor." + +"What makes you think that?" + +"Because, if his Lordship had not tried to prevent her escape, she would +have had no reason for killing him. Probably they had a struggle, her +hand fell on the pistol, and the deed was done----" + +"But what about the ruined picture?" + +"Her Ladyship, knowing that there was no other portrait of her in +existence, destroyed it in order to make it difficult for the police to +follow her." + +"H'm," grunted Cyril. "You make her Ladyship out a nice, cold-blooded, +calculating sort of person. If you think she at all resembles the young +lady at the nursing home, I can only tell you that you are vastly +mistaken." + +"As I have not the honour of knowing the lady in question, I cannot form +any opinion as to that. But let us continue: I wish to confess at once +that I am not at all sure how her Ladyship reached Newhaven. That +waiting automobile complicates matters. On the face of it, it seems as +if it must have some connection with the case. I have also a feeling +that it has, and yet for the life of me I cannot discover the connecting +link. Whatever the younger man was, the elder was undoubtedly a +Frenchman, and I have ascertained that with the exception of an old +French governess, who lived with her Ladyship before her marriage, and +of Mustapha and Valdriguez, Lady Wilmersley knew no foreigner whatever. +Besides, these two men seem to have been motoring about the country +almost at random, and it may have been the merest accident which brought +them to the foot of the long lane just at the time when her Ladyship was +in all probability leaving the castle. Whether they gave her a lift as +far as Newhaven, I do not know. How her Ladyship reached the town +constitutes the only serious--I will not call it break--but hiatus--in +my theory. From half-past six the next morning, however, her movements +can be easily followed. A young lady, dressed as you know, approached +the station with obvious nervousness. Three things attracted the +attention of the officials: first, the discrepancy between the +simplicity, I might almost say the poverty, of her clothes, and the fact +that she purchased a first-class ticket; secondly, that she did not wish +her features to be seen; and thirdly, that she had no luggage except a +small hand-bag. How her Ladyship managed to elude the police, and what +has subsequently occurred to her, I do not need to tell your Lordship." + +"You haven't in the least convinced me that the young lady is her +Ladyship, not in the least. You yourself admit that there is a hiatus in +your story; well, that hiatus is to me a gulf which you have failed to +bridge. Because one lady disappears from Geralton and another appears +the next morning in Newhaven, you insist the two are identical. But you +have not offered me one iota of proof that such is the case." + +"What more proof do you want? She is the only person who left Newhaven +by train or boat who even vaguely resembled her Ladyship." + +"That means nothing. Her Ladyship may not have come to Newhaven at all, +but have been driven to some hiding-place in the Frenchman's car." + +"I think that quite impossible, for every house, every cottage, every +stable and barn even, for twenty-five miles around, has been carefully +searched. Besides, this would mean that the murder had been premeditated +and the coming of the motor had been pre-arranged; and lastly, as the +gardener's wife testifies that the car left Geralton certainly no +earlier than eleven-thirty, and as the two men reached the hotel before +twelve, this precludes the possibility that they could have done more +than drive straight back to the Inn, as the motor is by no means a fast +one." + +"But, my man, they may have secreted her Ladyship in the town itself and +have taken her with them to France the next morning." + +"Impossible. In the first place, they left alone, the porter saw them +off; and secondly, no one except the two Frenchmen purchased a ticket +for the continent either in the Newhaven office or on the boat." + +Cyril rose from his seat. Judson's logic was horribly convincing; no +smallest detail had apparently escaped him. As the man piled argument on +argument, he had found himself slowly and grudgingly accepting his +conclusions. + +"As you are in my employ, I take it for granted that you will not inform +the police or the press of your--suspicions," he said at last. + +"Certainly not, my lord. On the other hand, I must ask you to allow me +to withdraw from the case." + +"But why?" exclaimed Cyril. + +"Because my duty to you, as my client, prevents me from taking any +further steps in this matter." + +"I don't understand you!" + +"I gather that you are less anxious to clear up the mystery than to +protect her Ladyship. Am I not right?" + +"Yes," acknowledged Cyril. + +"You would even wish me to assist you in providing a safe retreat for +her." + +"Exactly." + +"Well, my lord, that is just what I cannot do. It is my duty, as I +conceive it, to hold my tongue, but I should not feel justified in +aiding her Ladyship to escape the consequences of her--her--action. In +order to be faithful to my engagement to you, I am willing to let the +public believe that I have made a failure of the case. I shall not even +allow my imagination to dwell on your future movements, but more than +that I cannot do." + +"You take the position that her Ladyship is an ordinary criminal, but +you must realise that that is absurd. Even granting that she is +responsible for her husband's death--of which, by the way, we have no +absolute proof--are you not able to make allowances for a poor woman +goaded to desperation by an opium fiend?" + +"I do not constitute myself her Ladyship's judge, but I don't think your +Lordship quite realises all that you are asking of me. Even if I were +willing to waive the question of my professional honour, I should still +decline to undertake a task which, I know, is foredoomed to failure. +For, if _I_ discovered Lady Wilmersley with so little difficulty, +Scotland Yard is bound to do so before long. The trail is too +unmistakable. It is impossible--absolutely impossible, I assure you, +that the secret can be kept." + +Cyril moved uneasily. + +"I wish I could convince your Lordship of this and induce you to allow +the law to take its course. Her Ladyship ought to come forward at once +and plead justifiable homicide. If she waits till she is arrested, it +will tell heavily against her." + +"But she is ill, really ill," insisted Cyril. "Dr. Stuart-Smith tells me +that if she is not kept perfectly quiet for the next few weeks, her +nervous system may never recover from the shock." + +"H'm! That certainly complicates the situation; on the other hand, you +must remember that discovery is not only inevitable but imminent, and +that the police will not stop to consider her Ladyship's nervous system. +No, my lord, the only thing for you to do is to break the news to her +yourself and to persuade her to give herself up. If you don't, you will +both live to regret it." + +"That may be so," replied Cyril after a minute's hesitation, "but in +this matter I must judge for myself. I still hope that you are wrong and +that either the young woman in question is not Lady Wilmersley or that +it was not her Ladyship who killed my cousin, and I refuse to jeopardise +her life till I am sure that there is no possibility of your having made +a mistake. But don't throw up the case yet. So far you have only sought +for evidence which would strengthen your theory of her Ladyship's guilt, +now I want you to look at the case from a fresh point of view. I want +you to start all over again and to work on the assumption that her +Ladyship did not fire the shot. I cannot accept your conclusion as final +till we have exhausted every other possibility. These Frenchmen, for +instance, have they or have they not a connection with the case? And +then there is Valdriguez. Why have you never suspected her? At the +inquest she acknowledged that no one had seen her leave her Ladyship's +apartments and we have only her word for it that she spent the evening +in her room." + +"True. But, if I went on the principle of suspecting every one who +cannot prove themselves innocent, I should soon be lost in a quagmire of +barren conjectures. Of course, I have considered Valdriguez, but I can +find no reason for suspecting her." + +"Well, I could give you a dozen reasons." + +"Indeed, my lord, and what are they?" + +"In the first place, we know that she is a hard, unprincipled woman, or +she would never have consented to aid my cousin in depriving his +unfortunate wife of her liberty. A woman who would do that, is capable +of any villainy. Then, on the witness-stand didn't you feel that she was +holding something back? Oh, I forgot you were not present at the +inquest." + +"I was there, my lord, but I took good care that no one should recognise +me." + +"Well, and what impression did she make on you?" + +"A fairly favourable one, my lord. I think she spoke the truth and I +fancy that she is almost a religious fanatic." + +"You don't mean to say, Judson, that you allowed yourself to be taken in +by her sanctimonious airs and the theatrical way that she kept clutching +at that cross on her breast? A religious fanatic indeed! Why, don't you +see that no woman with a spark of religion in her could have allowed her +mistress to be treated as Lady Wilmersley was?" + +"Quite so, my lord, and it is because Valdriguez impressed me as an +honest old creature that I am still doubtful whether her Ladyship is +insane or not, and this uncertainty hampers me very much in my work." + +"Lady Upton assured me that her granddaughter's mind had never been +unbalanced and that his Lordship, although he frequently wrote to her, +had never so much as hinted at such a thing; and if you believe the +young lady at the nursing home to be Lady Wilmersley, I give you my word +that she shows no sign of mental derangement." + +"Well, that seems pretty final, and yet--and yet--I cannot believe that +Valdriguez is a vicious woman. A man in my profession acquires a curious +instinct in such matters, my lord." The detective paused a moment and +when he began again, he spoke almost as if he were reasoning with +himself. "Now, if my estimate of Valdriguez is correct, and if it is +also a fact that Lady Wilmersley has never been insane, there are +certainly possibilities connected with this affair which I have by no +means exhausted--and so, my lord, I am not only willing but anxious to +continue on the case, if you will agree to allow me to ignore her +Ladyship's existence." + +"Certainly. But tell me, Judson, how can you hope to reconcile two such +absolutely contradictory facts?" + +"Two such apparently contradictory facts," gently corrected the +detective. "Well, my lord, I propose to find out more of this woman's +antecedents. I have several times tried to get her to talk, but so far +without the least success. She says that she will answer any question +put to her on the witness-stand, but that it is against her principles +to gossip about her late master and mistress. She is equally reticent as +to her past life and when I told her that her silence seemed to me very +suspicious, she demanded--suspicious of what? She went on to say that +she could not see that it was anybody's business, where she lived or +what she had done, and that she had certainly no intention of gratifying +my idle curiosity; and that was the last word I could get out of her. +Although she treated me so cavalierly, I confess to a good deal of +sympathy with her attitude." + +"Have you questioned Mrs. Eversley about her?" asked Cyril. "She was +housekeeper here when Valdriguez first came to Geralton and ought to be +able to tell you what sort of person she was in her youth." + +"Mrs. Eversley speaks well of her. The only thing she told me which may +have a bearing on the case is, that in the old days his Lordship +appeared to admire Valdriguez very much." + +"Ah! I thought so," cried Cyril. + +"But we cannot be too sure of this, my lord. For when I tried to find +out what grounds she had for her statement, she had so little proof to +offer that I cannot accept her impression as conclusive evidence. As far +as I can make out, the gossip about them was started by his Lordship +going to the Catholic church in Newhaven." + +"By going to the Catholic church!" exclaimed Cyril. + +"Exactly. Not a very compromising act on his Lordship's part, one would +think. But as his Lordship was not a Catholic, his doing so naturally +aroused a good deal of comment. At first the neighbourhood feared that +he had been converted by his mother, who had often lamented that she had +not been allowed to bring up her son in her own faith. It was soon +noticed, however, that whenever his Lordship attended a popish service, +his mother's pretty maid was invariably present, and so people began to +put two and two together and before long it was universally assumed that +she was the magnet which had drawn him away from his own church. I asked +Mrs. Eversley if they had been seen together elsewhere, and she +reluctantly admitted that they had. On several occasions they were seen +walking in the Park but always, so Mrs. Eversley assured me, in full +view of the castle. She had felt it her duty to speak to Valdriguez on +the subject, and the latter told her that his Lordship was interested in +her religion and that she was willing to run the risk of having her +conduct misconstrued if she could save his soul from eternal damnation. +She also gave Mrs. Eversley to understand that she had her mistress's +sanction, and as her Ladyship treated Valdriguez more as a companion and +friend than as a maid, Mrs. Eversley thought this quite likely and did +not venture to remonstrate further. So the intimacy, if such it could be +called, continued as before. What the outcome of this state of things +would have been we do not know, for shortly afterwards both Lord and +Lady Wilmersley died and Valdriguez left Geralton. When his Lordship +went away a few weeks later, a good many people suspected that he had +joined her on the continent. Mrs. Eversley, however, does not believe +this. She has the most absolute confidence in Valdriguez's virtue, and I +think her testimony is pretty reliable." + +"Bah! Mrs. Eversley is an honest, simple old soul. A clever adventuress +would have little difficulty in hoodwinking her. Mark my words, you have +found the key to the mystery. What more likely than that his +Lordship--whose morals, even as a boy, were none of the best--seduced +Valdriguez and that she returned to Geralton so as to have the +opportunity of avenging her wrongs." + +"I can think of nothing more unlikely than that his Lordship should have +selected his cast-off mistress as his wife's attendant," Judson drily +remarked. + +"Not at all. You didn't know him," replied Cyril. "I can quite fancy +that the situation would have appealed to his cynical humour." + +"Your opinion of the late Lord Wilmersley is certainly not flattering, +but even if we take for granted that such an arrangement would not have +been impossible to his Lordship, I still refuse to believe that +Valdriguez would have agreed to it; even assuming that his Lordship had +wronged her and that she had nursed a murderous resentment against him +all these years, I cannot see how she could have hoped to further her +object by accepting the humiliating position of his wife's maid. It also +seems to me incredible that a woman whose passions were so violent as to +find expression in murder could have controlled them during a lifetime. +But leaving aside these considerations, I have another reason to urge +against your theory: Would his Lordship have trusted a woman who, he +knew, had a grievance against him, as he certainly trusted Valdriguez? +She had free access to his apartments. What was there to have prevented +her from giving him an overdose of some drug during one of the many +times when he was half-stupefied with opium? Nothing. The risk of +detection would have been infinitesimal. No, my lord, why Valdriguez +returned to Geralton is an enigma, I grant you, but your explanation +does not satisfy me." + +"As long as you acknowledge that Valdriguez's presence here needs an +explanation and are willing to work to find that explanation, I don't +care whether you accept my theory or not; all I want to get at is the +truth." + +"The truth, my lord," said the detective, as he rose to take his leave, +"is often more praised than appreciated." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +FINGER PRINTS IN THE DUST + + +As Cyril sat toying with his dinner, it was little by little borne in on +him that the butler had something on his mind. How he got this +impression he really did not know, for Douglas performed his duties as +precisely, as unobtrusively as ever. Yet long before the last course had +been reached, Cyril was morally certain that he had not been mistaken. +He waited for the dessert to be placed on the table; then, having +motioned the footmen to leave the room, he half turned to the butler, +who was standing behind his chair. + +"Douglas." + +"Yes, my lord?" The man stepped forward, so as to face his master. + +"Is anything the matter?" asked Cyril, scrutinising the other +attentively. + +The abrupt question seemed neither to surprise nor to discompose the +butler; yet he hesitated before finally answering: + +"I--I don't quite know, my lord." + +"Nonsense!" exclaimed Cyril impatiently. "You must know whether or not +something has happened to upset you." + +Douglas fidgeted uneasily. + +"Well, my lord--it's this way, my lord--Susan, the upper 'ousemaid, says +as how there has been somebody or--" here his voice sank to a whisper +and he cast an apprehensive glance over his shoulder--"or something in +the library last night!" + +Cyril put down the glass of wine he was carrying to his lips untasted. + +"She thinks she saw a ghost in the library?" + +"No, my lord. She didn't see anything, but this morning she found +finger-marks on the top of his Lordship's desk." + +"Pooh! What of that? One of the servants may have gone in there out of +curiosity." + +"But what would anybody be doing there in the night, I should like to +know? And Susan says those marks could only 'ave been made last night, +my lord." + +"Why?" + +"On account of the dust, my lord. It takes time for dust to settle and a +'ousemaid, who knows 'er business, can tell, after she's been in a place +a couple of months, just about 'ow long it's been since any particular +piece of furniture has been dusted. Aye, Susan knows, my lord. No young +'ousemaid can pull the wool over 'er eyes, I can tell you." + +"Does every one know of Susan's suspicions?" + +"No, my lord. Susan's a sensible woman, and though she was frightened +something terrible, she only told Mrs. Eversley and Mrs. Eversley told +me and we three agreed we'd hold our tongues. Every one's that upset as +it is, that they'd all 'ave 'ighstrikes if they knew that It was +walking." + +"Don't be a fool, Douglas. No one believes in ghosts nowadays. But even +if there were such things, an intangible spirit couldn't possibly leave +finger-marks behind it." + +"But, my lord, if you'll excuse me, my aunt's cousin--" began the +butler, but Cyril cut him short. + +"I have no time now to hear about your aunt's cousin, though no doubt it +is a most interesting story. Send Susan to me at once." + +"Very good, my lord." + +Susan had, however, no further information to impart. She was positive +that the marks must have been made some time during the night. + +"And it's my belief they were made by a skeleton hand," she added. "And +as for going into that room again, indeed I just couldn't, not for +nobody, meaning no disrespect to your Lordship; and as for the other +'ousemaids, they'll not go near the place either and haven't been since +the murder." + +"Very well, Susan, I shall not ask you to do so. Those rooms shall not +be opened again till this mystery is cleared up. I will go now and lock +them up myself." + +"Thank you, my lord." + +Striding rapidly across the hall, Cyril opened the door of the library. +This part of the castle had been equipped with electric light and steam +heat, and as he stepped into the darkness, the heavy-scented air almost +made him reel. Having found the switch, he noticed at once that the room +had indefinably changed since he had been in it last. Notwithstanding +the heat, notwithstanding the flood of crimson light, which permeated +even the farthest corners, it had already assumed the chill, gloomy +aspect of an abandoned apartment. + +Stooping over the desk, he eagerly inspected the marks which had so +startled the housemaid. Yes, they were still quite visible, although a +delicate film of dust had already begun to soften the precision of their +outline--very strange! They certainly did look like the imprint of +skeleton fingers. He laid his own hand on the desk. His fingers left a +mark at least twice as wide as those of the mysterious visitant. + +For a long time he stood with bent head pondering deeply; then, throwing +back his shoulders, as if he had arrived at some decision, he proceeded +to explore the entire suite. Having satisfied himself that no one was +secreted on the premises, he turned off the light, shut the door--but he +did not turn the key. + +Some hours later Cyril, in his great four-posted bed, lay watching, with +wide-open eyes, the fantastic shadows thrown by the dancing firelight on +the panelled walls. To woo sleep was evidently not his intention, for +from time to time he lighted a wax vesta and consulted the watch he held +in his hand. At last the hour seemed to satisfy him, for he got out of +bed and made a hasty toilet. Having accomplished this as best he could +in the semi-obscurity, he slipped a pistol into his pocket and left his +room. + +Groping his way through the darkness, he descended the stairs and +cautiously traversed the hall. Not a sound did he make. His stockinged +feet moved noiselessly over the heavy carpet. At the door of the library +he paused a moment and listened intently; then, pistol in hand, he threw +open the door. Darkness and silence alone confronted him. Closing the +door behind him, he lighted a match and carefully inspected the desk. +Having assured himself that no fresh marks had appeared on its polished +surface, he blew out the match and ensconced himself as comfortably as +the limited space permitted behind the curtains of one of the windows. +There he waited patiently for what seemed to him an eternity. He had +just begun to fear that his vigil would prove fruitless, when his ear +was gladdened by a slight sound. A moment later the light was switched +on. Hardly daring to breathe, Cyril peered through the curtains. +Valdriguez! Cyril's heart gave a bound of exultation. Had he not guessed +that those marks could only have been made by her small, bony fingers? + +Clad like a nun in a loose, black garment, which fell in straight, +austere folds to her feet; a black shawl, thrown over her head, casting +strange shadows on her pale, haggard face, she advanced slowly, almost +majestically, into the room. Cyril had to acknowledge that she looked +more like a medieval saint than a midnight marauder. + +Evidently the woman had no fear of detection, for she never even cast +one suspicious glance around her; nor did she appear to feel that there +was any necessity for haste, for she lingered for some time near the +writing-table, gazing at it, as if it had a fascination for her; but, +finally, she turned away with a hopeless sigh and directed her attention +to the bookcase. This she proceeded to examine in the most methodical +manner. Book after book was taken down, shaken, and the binding +carefully scrutinised. Having cleared a shelf, she drew a tape measure +from her pocket and rapped and measured the back and sides of the case +itself. + +What on earth could she be looking for, wondered Cyril. Not a will, +surely? For his cousin's will, executed at the date of his marriage, had +been found safely deposited with his solicitor. A later will, perhaps? +One in which she hoped that her master had remembered her, as he had +probably promised her that he would? Yes, that must be it. + +Well, there was no further need of concealment, he decided, so, parting +the curtains, he stepped into the room. + +"What are you doing here?" he demanded. + +His own voice startled him, it rang out so loud and harsh in the silence +of the night. + +Valdriguez knelt on the floor with her back to him, and it seemed as if +the sudden shock had paralysed her, for she made no effort to move, and +her hand, arrested in the act of replacing a book, remained +outstretched, as if it had been turned to stone. + +"It is I, your master. What are you doing here?" he repeated. + +He saw her shudder convulsively, then slowly she raised her head, and as +her great, tragic eyes met his, Cyril was conscious of a revulsion of +feeling toward her. Never had he seen anything so hopeless yet so +undaunted as the look she gave him. It reminded him, curiously enough, +of a look he had once seen in the eyes of a lioness, who, with a bullet +through her heart, still fought to protect her young. + +Staggering a little as she rose, Valdriguez nevertheless managed to draw +herself up to her full height. + +"I am here, my lord, to get what is mine--mine," she repeated almost +fiercely. + +Cyril pulled himself together. It was absurd, he reasoned, to allow +himself to be impressed by her strange personality. + +"A likely story!" he exclaimed; and the very fact that he was more than +half-inclined to believe her, made him speak more roughly than he would +otherwise have done. + +"Think what you like," she cried, shrugging her shoulders +contemptuously. "Have me arrested--have me hung--what do I care? Death +has no terrors for me." + +"So you confess that it was you who murdered his Lordship? Ah, I +suspected it! Your sanctimonious airs didn't deceive me," exclaimed +Cyril triumphantly. + +"No, I did not murder him," she replied calmly, almost indifferently. + +"I think you will have some difficulty convincing the police of that. +You have no alibi to prove that you were not in these rooms at the time +of the murder, and now when I tell them that I found you trying to +steal----" + +"I am no thief," she interrupted him with blazing eyes. "I tell you, I +came here to get what is mine by right." + +"Do you really expect me to believe that? Even if what you say were +true, you would not have had to sneak in here in the middle of the +night. You know very well that I should have made no objections to your +claiming your own." + +"So you say. But if I had gone to you and told you that a great lord had +robbed me, a poor woman, of something which is dearer to me than life +itself, would you have believed me? If I had said to you, 'I must look +through his Lordship's papers; I must be free to search everywhere,' +would you have given me permission to do so? No, never. You think I fear +you? That it was because I was ashamed of my errand that I came here at +this hour? Bah! All I feared was that I should be prevented from +discovering the truth. The truth?" Valdriguez's voice suddenly dropped +and she seemed to forget Cyril's presence. "It is here, somewhere." She +continued speaking as if to herself and her wild eyes swept feverishly +around the room. "He told me it was here--and yet how can I be sure of +it? He may have lied to me about this as he did about everything else. +How can I tell? Oh, this uncertainty is torture! I cannot bear it any +longer, oh, my God!" she cried, clasping her hands and lifting her +streaming eyes to heaven, "Thou knowest that I have striven all my life +to do Thy will; I have borne the cross that Thou sawest fit to lay upon +me without a murmur, nor have I once begged for mercy at Thy hands; but +now, now, oh, my Father, I beseech thee, give me to know the truth +before I die----" + +Cyril watched the woman narrowly. He felt that he must try and maintain +a judicial attitude toward her and not allow himself to be led astray by +his sympathies which, as he knew to his cost, were only too easily +aroused. After all, he reasoned, was it not more than likely that she +was delivering this melodramatic tirade for his benefit? On the other +hand, it was against his principles as well as against his inclinations +to deal harshly with a woman. + +"Calm yourself, Valdriguez," he said at last. "If you can convince me +that his Lordship had in his possession something which rightfully +belonged to you, I promise that, if it can be found, it shall be +restored to you. Tell me, what it is that you are looking for?" + +"Tell you--never! Are you not of his blood? You promise--so did he--the +smooth-tongued villain! All these years have I lived on promises! Never +will I trust one of his race again." + +"You have got to trust me whether you want to or not. Your position +could not be worse than it is, could it? Don't you see that your only +hope lies in being able to persuade me that you are an honest woman?" + +For the first time Valdriguez looked at Cyril attentively. He felt as if +her great eyes were probing his very soul. + +"Indeed, you do not look cruel or deceitful. And, as you say, I am +powerless without you, so I must take the risk of your being what you +seem. I will tell you the truth. But first, my lord, will you swear not +to betray my secret to any living being?" + +"You have my word for it. That is--" he hastily added, "if it has +nothing to do with the murder." + +"Nothing, my lord." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE STORY OF A WRONG + + +Cyril waited for her to continue, but for a long time it seemed doubtful +if she would have the courage to do so. + +"I am looking," she said at last, speaking slowly and with a visible +effort, "for a paper which will tell me whether my--son is alive or +dead." + +"Your son? So you were his Lordship's mistress----" + +"Before God I was his wife! I am no wanton, my lord!" + +"The old story--" began Cyril, but Valdriguez stopped him with a furious +gesture. + +"Do not dare to say that my child's mother was a loose woman! I will not +permit it. Arthur Wilmersley--may his Maker judge him as he +deserves--wrecked my life, but at least he never doubted my virtue. He +knew that the only way to get me was to marry me." + +"So he actually married you?" exclaimed Cyril. + +"No--but for a long time I believed that he had. How could a young, +innocent girl have suspected that the man she loved was capable of such +cold-blooded deception? Even now, I cannot blame myself for having +fallen into the trap he baited with such fiendish cunning. Think of +it--he induced me to consent to a secret marriage by promising that if I +made this sacrifice for his sake, he would become a convert to my +religion--my religion! And as we stood together before the altar, I +remember that I thanked God for giving me this opportunity of saving a +soul from destruction. I never dreamed that the church he took me to was +nothing but an old ruin he had fitted up as a chapel for the occasion. +How could I guess that the man who married us was not a priest but a +mountebank, whom he had hired to act the part?" + +Valdriguez bowed her head and the tears trickled through her thin +fingers. + +"I know that not many people would believe you but, well--I do." It +seemed to Cyril as if the words sprang to his lips unbidden. + +"Then indeed you are a good man," exclaimed Valdriguez, "for it is given +only to honest people to have a sure ear for the truth. Now it will be +easier to tell you the rest. Some weeks after we had gone through this +ceremony, first Lord and then Lady Wilmersley died; on her deathbed I +confided to my lady that I was her son's wife and she gave me her +blessing. My humble birth she forgave--after all it was less humble than +her own--and was content that her son had chosen a girl of her own race +and faith. As soon as the funeral was over, I urged my husband to +announce our marriage, but he would not. He proposed that we should go +for a while to the continent so that on our return it would be taken for +granted that we had been married there, and in this way much unpleasant +talk avoided. So we went to Paris and there we lived together openly as +man and wife, not indeed under his name but under mine. He pretended +that he wanted for once to see the world from the standpoint of the +people; that he desired for a short time to be free from the +restrictions of his rank. I myself dreaded so much entering a class so +far above me that I was glad of the chance of spending a few more months +in obscurity. For some weeks I was happy, then Lord Wilmersley began to +show himself to me as he really was. We had taken a large apartment near +the Luxembourg, and soon it became the meeting-ground for the most +reckless element of the Latin Quarter. Ah, if you but knew what sights I +saw, what things I heard in those days! I feared that my very soul was +being polluted, so I consulted a priest as to what I should do. He told +me it was my duty to remain constantly at my husband's side; with prayer +and patience I might some day succeed in reforming him. So I stayed in +that hell and bore the insults and humiliations he heaped upon me +without a murmur. Now, looking back on the past, I think my meekness and +resignation only exasperated him, for he grew more and more cruel and +seemed to think of nothing but how to torture me into revolt. Whether I +should have been given the strength to endure indefinitely, the life he +led me I do not know, but one evening, when we were as usual +entertaining a disreputable rabble, a young man entered. I recognised +him at once. It was the man who had married us! He was dressed in a +brown velveteen suit; a red sash encircled his waist; and on his arm he +flaunted a painted woman. Imagine my feelings! I stood up and turned to +my husband. I could not speak--and he, the man I had loved, only +laughed--laughed! Never shall I forget the sound of that laughter.... + +"That night my child was born. That was twenty-eight years ago, but it +seems as if it were but yesterday that I held his small, warm body in my +arms.... Then comes a period of which I remember nothing, and when I +finally recovered my senses, they told me my child was dead.... As soon +as I was able to travel, I returned to my old home in Seville and there +I lived, working and praying--praying for my own soul and for that of my +poor baby, who had died without receiving the sacrament of baptism.... +Years passed. I had become resigned to my lot, when one day I received a +letter from Lord Wilmersley. Oh! If I had only destroyed it unopened, +how much anguish would have been spared me! But at first when I read it, +I thought my happiness would have killed me, for Lord Wilmersley wrote +that my boy was not dead and that if I would meet him in Paris, he would +give me further news of him. I hesitated not a moment. At once did I set +out on my journey. On arriving in Paris I went to the hotel he had +indicated and was shown into a private _salon_. There for the first time +in a quarter of a century I saw again the man I had once regarded as my +husband. At first I had difficulty in recognising him, for now his true +character was written in every line of his face and figure. But I hardly +gave a thought either to him or to my wrongs, so great was my impatience +to hear news of my son.... Then that fiend began to play with me as a +cat with a mouse. Yes, my boy lived, had made his way in the world--that +was all he would tell me. My child had been adopted by some well-to-do +people, who had brought him up as their own--no, I needn't expect to +hear another word. Yes, he was a fine, strong lad--he would say no +more.... Can you imagine the scene? Finally, having wrought me up to the +point where I would have done anything to wring the truth from him, he +said to me: 'I have recently married a young wife and I am not such a +fool as to trust my honour in the keeping of a girl who married an old +man like me for his money. Now I have a plan to propose to you. Come and +live with her as her maid and help me to guard her from all eyes, and if +you fulfil your duties faithfully, at the end of three years I promise +that you shall see your son.' + +"His revolting proposition made my blood boil. Never, never, I told him, +would I accept such a humiliating situation. He merely shrugged his +shoulders and said that in that case I need never hope to hear what had +become of my son. I raved, threatened, pleaded, but he remained +inflexible, and finally I agreed to do his bidding." + +"So you, who call yourself a Christian, actually consented to help that +wretch to persecute his unfortunate young wife?" demanded Cyril sternly. + +Valdriguez flung her head back defiantly. + +"His wife? What was she to me? Besides, had she not taken him for better +or worse? Why should I have helped her to break the bonds her own vows +had imposed on her? He did not ill-treat her, far from it. He deprived +her of her liberty, but what of that? A nun has even less freedom than +she had. What were her sufferings compared to mine? Think of it, day +after day I had to stand aside and watch the man I had once looked upon +as my husband, lavish his love, his thought, his very life indeed, on +that pretty doll. Although I no longer loved him, my flesh quivered at +the sight." + +"Nevertheless--" began Cyril. + +"My lord, I care not for your judgment nor for that of any man. I came +here to find my son. Would you have had me give up that sacred task +because a pink and white baby wanted to flaunt her beauty before the +world? Ah, no! Lady Wilmersley's fate troubles me not at all; but what +breaks my heart is that, as Arthur died just before the three years were +up, I fear that now I shall never know what has become of my boy. +Sometimes I have feared that he is dead--but no, I will not believe it! +My boy lives! I feel it!" she cried, striking her breast. "And in this +room--perhaps within reach of my hand as I stand here--is the paper +which would tell me where he is. Ah, my lord, I beg, I entreat you to +help me to find it!" + +"I will gladly do so, but what reason have you for supposing that there +is such a paper?" + +"It is true that I have only Lord Wilmersley's word for it," she +replied, and her voice sounded suddenly hopeless. "Yet not once but many +times he said to me: 'I have a paper in which is written all you wish to +know, but as I do not trust you, I have hidden it, yes, in this very +room have I hidden it.' And now he is dead and I cannot find it! Oh, +what shall I do? What shall I do?" + +"Even if we cannot find the paper, there are other means of tracing your +son. We will advertise----" + +"Never!" she interrupted him vehemently. "I will never consent to do +anything which might reveal to him the secret of his birth. I would long +ago have taken steps to find him, if I had not realised that I could not +do so without taking a number of people into my confidence, and, if I +did that, the story of my shame would be bound to leak out. Not for +myself did I care, but for him. Think of it, if what Lord Wilmersley +told me was true, he holds an honourable position, believes himself the +son of respectable parents. Would it not be horrible, if he should +suddenly learn that he is the nameless child of a servant girl and a +villain? The fear that he should somehow discover the truth is always +before me. That is why I made you swear to keep my secret." + +"Of course, I will do as you wish, but I assure you that you exaggerate +the risk. Still, let us first search this room thoroughly; then, if we +do not find the paper, it will be time enough to decide what we shall do +next." + +"Ah, my lord, you are very good to me and may God reward you as you +deserve. Day and night will I pray for you." And to Cyril's dismay, +Valdriguez suddenly bent down and covered his hands with kisses. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +GUY RELENTS + + +Cyril and Valdriguez spent the next morning making a thorough search of +the library, but the paper they were looking for could not be found. +Cyril had from the first been sceptical of success. He could not believe +that her child was still alive and was convinced that Arthur Wilmersley +had fabricated the story simply to retain his hold over the unfortunate +mother. Valdriguez, however, for a long time refused to abandon the +quest. Again and again she ransacked places they had already carefully +examined. When it was finally borne in upon her that there was no +further possibility of finding what she so sought, the light suddenly +went out of her face and she would have fallen if Cyril had not caught +her and placed her in a chair. With arms hanging limply to her sides, +her half-closed eyes fixed vacantly in front of her, she looked as if +death had laid his hand upon her. Thoroughly alarmed, Cyril had the +woman carried to her room and sent for a doctor. When the latter +arrived, he shook his head hopelessly. She had had a stroke; there was +very little he could do for her. In his opinion it was extremely +doubtful if she would ever fully recover her faculties, he said. + +Cyril having made every possible arrangement for the comfort of the +afflicted woman, at last allowed his thoughts to revert to his own +troubles. + +He realised that with the elimination of both Valdriguez and Prentice +there was no one but Anita left who could reasonably be suspected of the +murder; for that the two Frenchmen were implicated in the affair, was +too remote a possibility to be seriously considered. No, he must make up +his mind to face the facts: the girl was Anita Wilmersley and she had +killed her husband! What was he going to do, now that he knew the truth? +Judson's advice that Anita should give herself up, he rejected without a +moment's hesitation. Yet, he had to acknowledge that there was little +hope of her being able to escape detection, as long as the police knew +her to be alive.... Suddenly an idea occurred to him. If they could only +be made to believe that she was dead, that and that alone would free her +at once and forever from their surveillance. She would be able to leave +England; to resume her life in some distant country where he.... Cyril +shrank instinctively from pursuing the delicious dream further. He tried +to force himself to consider judicially the scheme that was shaping +itself in his mind; to weigh calmly and dispassionately the chances for +and against its success. If a corpse resembling Anita were found, +dressed in the clothes she wore the day she left Geralton, it would +surely be taken for granted that the body was hers and that she had been +murdered. But how on earth was he to procure such a corpse and, having +procured it, where was he to hide it? The neighbourhood of the castle +had been so thoroughly searched that it would be no easy task to +persuade the police that they had overlooked any spot where a body might +be secreted. Certainly the plan presented almost insurmountable +difficulties, but as it was the only one he could think of, Cyril clung +to it with bull-dog tenacity. + +"Impossible? Nonsense! Nothing is impossible! Impossible is but a word +designed to shield the incompetent or frighten the timid," he muttered +loudly in his heart, unconsciously squaring his broad shoulders. + +He decided to leave Geralton at once, for the plan must be carried out +immediately or not at all, and it was only in London that he could hope +to procure the necessary assistance. + +On arriving in town, however, Cyril had to admit that he had really no +idea what he ought to do next. If he could only get in touch with an +impoverished medical student who would agree to provide a body, the +first and most difficult part of his undertaking would be achieved. But +how and where was he to find this indispensable accomplice? Well, it was +too late to do anything that evening, he decided. He might as well go to +the club and get some dinner and try to dismiss the problem from his +mind for the time being. + +The first person he saw on entering the dining-room was Campbell. He was +sitting by himself at a small table; his round, rosy face depicted the +utmost dejection and he thrust his fork through an oyster with much the +same expression a man might have worn who was spearing a personal enemy. + +On catching sight of Cyril, he dropped his fork, jumped from his seat, +and made an eager step forward. Then, he suddenly wavered, evidently +uncertain as to the reception Cyril was going to accord him. + +"Well, this is a piece of luck!" cried Cyril, stretching out his hand. + +Guy, looking decidedly sheepish, clasped it eagerly. + +"I might as well tell you at once that I know I made no end of an ass of +myself the other day," he said, averting his eyes from his friend's +face. "It is really pretty decent of you not to have resented my +ridiculous accusations." + +"Oh, that's all right," Cyril assured him, "I quite understood your +motive. But I am awfully glad you have changed your attitude towards me, +for to tell you the truth, I am in great need of your assistance." + +"Oh, Lor'!" ejaculated Campbell, screwing up his face into an expression +of comic despair. + +As soon as there was no danger of their being overheard, Cyril told +Campbell of his interview with Judson. At first Guy could not be +persuaded that the girl was Anita Wilmersley. + +"She is not a liar, I am sure of it! If she said that her hair had +turned white, it had turned white, and therefore it is impossible that +she had dyed it," objected Campbell. + +"Judson suggested that she dyed only part of her hair and that it was +the rest which turned white." + +Having finally convinced Guy that there was no doubt as to the girl's +identity, Cyril proceeded to unfold his plan for rescuing her from the +police. + +Guy adjusted his eye-glass and stared at his friend speechless with +consternation. + +"This affair has turned your brain," he finally gasped. "Your plan is +absurd, absolutely absurd, I tell you. Why, even if I could bribe some +one to procure me a corpse, how on earth could you get it to Geralton?" + +"In a motor-car." + +"And where under Heaven are you to hide it?" + +"Get me a corpse and I will arrange the rest," Cyril assured him with +more confidence than he really felt. + +"First you saddle me with a lot of stolen jewels and now you want me to +travel around the country with a corpse under my arm! I say, you do +select nice, pleasant jobs for me!" exclaimed Campbell. + +"Have you any other plan to suggest?" asked Cyril. + +"Can't say I have," acknowledged Guy. + +"Are you willing to sit still and see Anita Wilmersley arrested?" + +"Certainly not, but your scheme is a mad one--madder than anything I +should have credited even you with having conceived." Campbell paused a +moment as if considering the question in all its aspects. "However, the +fact that it is crazy may save us. The police will not be likely to +suspect two reputable members of society, whose sanity has so far not +been doubted, of attempting to carry through such a wild, impossible +plot. Yes," he mused, "the very impossibility of the thing may make it +possible." + +"Glad you agree with me," cried Cyril enthusiastically. "Now how soon +can you get a corpse, do you think?" + +"Good Lord, man! You talk as if I could order one from Whiteley's. When +can I get you a corpse--indeed? To-morrow--in a week--a month--a +year--never. The last-mentioned date I consider the most likely. I will +do what I can, that is all I can say; but how I am to go to work, upon +my word, I haven't the faintest idea." + +"You are an awfully clever chap, Guy." + +"None of your blarney. I won't have it! I am the absolute fool, but I am +still sane enough to know it." + +"Very well, I'll acknowledge that you are a fool and I only wish there +were more like you," said Cyril, clapping his friend affectionately on +the back. + +"By the way," he added, turning away as if in search of a match and +trying to speak as carelessly as possible, "How is Anita?" + +For a moment Guy did not answer and Cyril stood fumbling with the +matches fearful of the effect of the question. He was still doubtful how +far his friend had receded from his former position and was much +relieved when Guy finally answered in a very subdued voice: + +"She is pretty well--but--" He hesitated. + +Cyril turned quickly round. He noticed that Guy's face had lengthened +perceptibly and that he toyed nervously with his eye-glass. + +"What is the matter?" he inquired anxiously. + +"The fact is," replied Campbell, speaking slowly and carefully avoiding +the other's eye, "I think it is possible that she misses you." + +Cyril's heart gave a sudden jump. + +"I can hardly believe it," he managed to stutter. + +"Of course, Miss Trevor may be mistaken. It was her idea, not mine, that +Ani--Lady Wilmersley I mean--is worrying over your absence. But whatever +the cause, the fact remains that she has changed very much. She is no +longer frank and cordial in her manner either to Miss Trevor or myself. +It seems almost as if she regarded us both with suspicion, though what +she can possibly suspect us of, I can't for the life of me imagine. That +day at lunch she was gay as a child, but now she is never anything but +sad and preoccupied." + +"Perhaps she is beginning to remember the past," suggested Cyril. + +"How can I tell? Miss Trevor and I have tried everything we could think +of to induce her to confide in us, but she won't. Possibly you might be +more successful--" An involuntary sigh escaped Campbell. "I am sorry now +that I prevented you from seeing her. Mind you, I still think it wiser +not to do so, but I ought to have left you free to use your own +judgment. The number of her sitting-room is 62, on the second floor and, +for some reason or other, she insists on being left there alone every +afternoon from three to four. Now I have told you all I know of the +situation and you must handle it as you think best." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +A SLIP OF THE TONGUE + + +Cyril spent the night in a state of pitiable indecision. Should he or +should he not risk a visit to Anita? If the police were shadowing him, +it would be fatal, but he had somehow lately acquired the conviction +that they were not. On the other hand, if he could only see her, how it +would simplify everything! As she distrusted both Guy and Miss Trevor, +even if his plot succeeded, she would probably refuse to leave England +unless he himself told her that he wished her to do so. Besides, there +were so many details to be discussed, so many arrangements to be talked +over. "Yes," he said to himself as he lay staring into the darkness, "it +is my duty to see her. I shall go to her not because I want to...." A +horrid doubt made him pause. Was he so sure that his decision was not +the outcome of his own desire? How could he trust his judgment in a +matter where his inclinations were so deeply involved? Yet it would be +shocking if he allowed his own feelings to induce him to do something +which might be injurious to Anita. It was a nice question to determine +whether her need of him was sufficient to justify him in risking a +visit? For hours he debated with himself but could arrive at no +conclusion. No sooner did he resolve to stay away from her than the +thought of her unhappiness again made him waver. If he only knew why she +was so unhappy, he told himself that the situation would not be so +unendurable. When he had talked to her over the telephone, she had +seemed cheerful; she had spoken of Guy and Miss Trevor with enthusiasm. +What could have occurred since then to make her distrust them and to +plunge her into such a state of gloom? As he tossed to and fro on his +hot, tumbled bed, his imagination pictured one dire possibility after +another, till at last he made up his mind that he could bear the +uncertainty no longer. He must see her! He would see her! + +Having reached this decision, Cyril could hardly refrain from rushing +off to her as soon as it was light. However, he had to curb his +impatience. Three o'clock was the only hour he could be sure of finding +her alone; so he must wait till three o'clock. But how on earth, he +asked himself, was he going to get through the intervening time? He was +in a state of feverish restlessness that was almost agony; he could not +apply himself to anything; he could only wait--wait. Although he knew +that there was no chance of his meeting Anita, he haunted the +neighbourhood of the "George" all the morning. Every few minutes he +consulted his watch and the progress of the hands seemed to him so +incredibly slow that more than once he thought that it must have stopped +altogether. Finally, finally, the hour struck. + +Flinging back his shoulders and assuming a carelessness that almost +amounted to a swagger, Cyril entered the hotel. He was so self-conscious +that it was with considerable surprise as well as relief that he noticed +that no one paid the slightest attention to him. Even the porter hardly +glanced at him, being at the moment engaged in speeding a parting guest. + +Cyril decided to use the stairs in preference to the lift, as they were +less frequented than the latter, and as it happened, he made his way up +to the second landing without encountering anybody. + +There, however, he came face to face with a pretty housemaid, who to his +dismay looked at him attentively. Cyril went cold all over. Had he but +known it, she had been attracted by his tall, soldierly figure and had +merely offered him the tribute of an admiring glance. But this +explanation never occurred to our modest hero and he hurried, quite +absurdly flustered by this trifling incident. He found that No. 62 +opened on a small, ill-lighted hall, which was for the moment completely +deserted. + +Now that he actually stood on the threshold of Anita's room, Cyril felt +a curious reluctance to proceed farther. It was unwise.... She might not +want to see him.... But even as these objections flashed through his +mind, he knocked almost involuntarily. + +"Come in." + +Yet he still hesitated. His heart was beating like a sledge-hammer and +his hands were trembling. Never had he experienced such a curious +sensation before and he wondered vaguely what could be the matter with +him. + +"I can't stand here forever," he said in his heart. "I wanted to see +her; well then, why don't I open the door? I am behaving like a fool!" + +Still reasoning with himself, he finally entered the room. + +A bright fire was burning on the hearth and before it were heaped a +number of cushions and from this lowly seat Anita had apparently hastily +arisen. The length of time he had taken to answer her summons had +evidently alarmed her, for she stood like a creature at bay, her eyes +wide open and frightened. On recognising Cyril a deep blush suffused her +face and even coloured the whiteness of her throat. + +"So it was you!" she exclaimed. + +Her relief was obvious, yet her manner was distant, almost repellent. +Cyril had confidently anticipated such a different reception that her +unexpected coldness completed his discomfiture. He felt as if the +foundations of his world were giving away beneath his feet. He managed, +however, to murmur something, he knew not what. The pounding of his +heart prevented him from thinking coherently. When his emotion had +subsided sufficiently for him to realise what he was doing, he found +himself sitting stiffly on one side of the fire with Anita sitting +equally stiffly on the other. She was talking--no, rather she was +engaging him in polite conversation. How long she had been doing so he +did not know, but he gathered that it could not have been long, as she +was still on the subject of the weather. + +"It has been atrocious in London. I hope you had better luck in the +country. To-day has been especially disagreeable," she was saying. + +Cyril abused the weather with a vigour which was rather surprising, in +view of the fact that till she had mentioned it, he had been sublimely +unconscious whether the sun had been shining or not. But finally even +that prolific topic was exhausted and as no other apparently suggested +itself to either, they relapsed into a constrained silence. + +Cyril was suffering acutely. He had so longed to see her, and now an +impalpable barrier had somehow arisen between them which separated them +more completely than mere bricks and mortar, than any distance could +have done. True, he could feast his eyes on her cameo-like profile; on +the soft curve of her cheek; on the long, golden-tipped lashes; on the +slender, white throat, which rose like a column from the laces of her +dress. But he dared not look at her too long. Cyril was not +introspective and was only dimly aware of the cause of the turmoil which +was raging in his heart. He did not know that he averted his eyes for +fear that the primitive male within him would break loose from the +fetters of his will and forcibly seize the small creature so temptingly +within his reach. + +"If I only knew what I have done to displease her!" he said to himself. + +He longed to question her, but she held herself so rigidly aloof that he +had not the courage to do so. It was in vain that he told himself that +her coldness simplified the situation; that it would have been terrible +to have had to repel her advances; but he could find no consolation in +the thought. In speechless misery he sat gazing into the fire. + +Suddenly he thrilled with the consciousness that she was looking at him. +He turned towards her and their eyes met. + +The glance they exchanged was of the briefest duration, but it sufficed +to lift the weight which had been crushing him. He leaned eagerly +forward. + +"Have I offended you?" he asked. + +The corners of her mouth quivered slightly, but she did not answer. + +"If I have," he continued, "I assure you it was quite unintentionally. +Why, I would give my life to save you a moment's pain. Can't you feel +that I am speaking the truth?" + +She turned her face towards him, and as he looked at her, Cyril realised +that it was not only her manner which had altered; she herself had +mysteriously altered. At first he could not define wherein the +difference lay, but suddenly it flashed upon him. It was the expression +of her eyes which had changed. Heretofore he had been confident that +they reflected her every emotion; but now they were inscrutable. It was +as if she had drawn a veil over her soul. + +"I don't know what you mean," she said. There was more than a hint of +hostility in her voice. + +The evasion angered him. + +"That is impossible! Why not be frank with me? If my visit is +distasteful to you, you have only to say so and I will go." + +As she did not immediately answer, he added: + +"Perhaps I had better go." His tone, however, somehow implied more of a +threat than a suggestion; for since they had exchanged that fleeting +glance Cyril had felt unreasonably reassured. Despite her coldness, the +memory of her tender entreaties for his speedy return, buoyed up his +conceit. She could not be as indifferent to him as she seemed, he argued +to himself. However, as the moments passed and she offered no objection +to his leaving her, his newly-aroused confidence evaporated. + +"She does not want me!" he muttered to himself. "I must go." But he made +no motion to do so; he could not. + +"I can't leave her till I know how I have offended her.... There are so +many arrangements to be made.... I must get in touch with her again,--" +were some of the excuses with which he tried to convince himself that he +had a right to linger. + +He tried to read her face, but she had averted her head till he could +see nothing but one small, pink ear, peeping from beneath her curls. + +Her silence exasperated him. + +"Why don't you speak to me? Why do you treat me like this?" he demanded +almost fiercely. + +"It is a little difficult to know how you wish to be treated!" Her +manner was icy, but his relief was so intense that he scarcely noticed +it. + +"She is piqued!" he cried exultingly in his heart. "She is piqued, that +is the whole trouble." He felt a man once more, master of the situation. +"She probably expected me to--" He shrank from pursuing the thought any +further as the hot blood surged to his face. He was again conscious of +his helplessness. What could he say to her? + +"Oh, if you could only understand!" he exclaimed aloud. "I suppose you +think me cold and unfeeling? I only wish I were!... Oh, this is +torture!" + +She seemed startled by his vehemence, for she looked up at him timidly. + +"Can't you trust me?" he continued. "Won't you tell me what has come +between us?" + +Two big tears gathered in her eyes. + +The sight was too much for Cyril. Right and wrong ceased to exist for +him. He forgot everything; stooping forward he gathered her into his +arms and crushed her small body against his heart. + +She thrust him from her with unexpected force and stood before him with +blazing eyes. + +"You cannot treat me like a child, who can be neglected one day and +fondled the next! I won't have it! At the nursing home I was too weak +and confused to realise how strangely you were behaving, but now I know. +You dare to complain of my coldness--my coldness indeed! Is my coldness +a match to yours? Why do you suddenly pretend to love me?" + +He interrupted her with a vigorous protest. + +"If you do, then your conduct is all the more inexplicable. If you do, +then I ask you, what is it, who is it, that stands between us?" + +"If I could tell you, don't you suppose I would?" declared Cyril. + +"Then there is some one, some person who is keeping us apart!" + +"No--oh, not exactly." + +"Ah, you see, you can't deny it! There is another woman in your life. I +know it! I felt it!" + +"No--no! I love you!" cried Cyril. + +He hardly knew what he was saying; the words seemed to have leaped to +his lips. + +She regarded him for a second in silence evidently only partially +convinced. + +Cyril felt horribly guilty. He had momentarily forgotten his wife, and +although he tried to convince himself that he had spoken the truth and +that it was not she who was keeping them apart, yet he had to +acknowledge that if he had been free, he would certainly have behaved +very differently towards Anita. So in a sense he had lied to her and as +he realised this, his eyes sank before hers. She did not fail to note +his embarrassment and pressed her point inexorably. + +"Swear that there is no other woman who has a claim on you and I will +believe you." + +He could not lie to her in cold blood. Yet to tell her the truth was +also out of the question, he said to himself. + +While he still hesitated, she continued more vehemently. + +"I don't ask you to tell me anything of your past or my past, if you had +rather not do so. One thing, however, I must and will know--who is this +woman and what are her pretensions?" + +"I--I cannot tell you," he said at last. "I only wish I could. Some day, +I promise you, you shall know everything, but now it is impossible. But +this much I will say--I love you as I have never loved any one in my +whole life." + +She trembled from head to foot and half closed her eyes. + +For a moment neither spoke. Cyril felt that this very silence +established a communion between them, more complete, more intense than +any words could have done. But as he gazed at the small, drooping +figure, he felt that his self-control was deserting him completely. He +almost reeled with the violence of his emotion. + +"I can't stand it another moment," he said to himself. "I must go +before--" He did not finish the sentence but clenched his hands till the +knuckles showed white through the skin. + +He rose to his feet. + +"I can't stay!" he exclaimed aloud. "Forgive me, Anita. I can't tell you +what I feel. Good-bye!" He murmured incoherently and seizing her hands, +he pressed them for an instant against his lips, then dropping them +abruptly, he fled from the room. + +Cyril in his excitement had not noticed that he had called Anita by her +name nor did he perceive the start she gave when she heard it. After the +door had clicked behind him, she sat as if turned to stone, white to her +very lips. + +Slowly, as if with an effort, her lips moved. + +"Anita?" she whispered to herself. "Anita?" she repeated over and over +again as if she were trying to learn a difficult lesson. + +Suddenly a great light broke over her face. + +"I am Anita Wilmersley!" she cried aloud. + +But the tension had been too great; with a little gasp she sank fainting +to the floor. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR + + +What he did during the next few hours, Cyril never quite knew. He +retained a vague impression of wandering through endless streets and of +being now and then arrested in his heedless course by the angry +imprecations of some wayfarer he had inadvertently jostled or of some +Jehu whose progress he was blocking. + +How could he have behaved like such a fool, he kept asking himself. He +had not said a thing to Anita that he had meant to say--not one. Worse +still, he had told her that he loved her! He had even held her in his +arms! Cyril tried not to exult at the thought. He told himself again and +again that he had acted like a cad; nevertheless the memory of that +moment filled him with triumphant rapture. Had he lost all sense of +shame, he wondered. He tried to consider Anita's situation, his own +situation; but he could not. Anita herself absorbed him. He could think +neither of the past nor of the future; he could think of nothing +connectedly. + +The daylight waned and still he tramped steadily onward. Finally, +however, his body began to assert itself. His footsteps grew gradually +slower, till at last he realised that he was miles from home and that he +was completely exhausted. Hailing a passing conveyance, he drove to his +lodgings. + +He was still so engrossed in his dreams that he felt no surprise at +finding Peter sitting in the front hall, nor did he notice the dejected +droop of the latter's shoulders. + +On catching sight of his master, Peter sprang forward. + +"Hsh! My lord," he whispered with his finger on his lip; and turning +slightly, he cast an apprehensive glance over his shoulder towards the +top of the stairs. + +With an effort Cyril shook off his preoccupation. Following the +direction of his servant's eyes, he saw nothing more alarming than a few +dusty plants which were supposed to adorn the small landing where the +stairs turned. Before he had time to form a conjecture as to the cause +of Peter's agitation, the latter continued breathlessly: "Her Ladyship +'ave arrived, my lord!" + +Having made this announcement, he stepped back as if to watch what +effect this information would have on his master. There was no doubt +that Peter's alarm was very genuine, yet one felt that in spite of it he +was enjoying the dramatic possibilities of the situation. + +Cyril, however, only blinked at him uncomprehendingly. + +"Her Ladyship? What Ladyship?" he asked. + +"Lady Wilmersley, my lord, and she brought her baggage. I haven't known +what to do, that I haven't. I knew she ought not to stay here, but I +couldn't turn 'er out, could I?" + +Cyril's mind was so full of Anita that he never doubted that it was she +to whom Peter was referring, so without waiting to ask further +questions, he rushed upstairs two steps at a time, and threw open the +door of his sitting-room. + +On a low chair in front of the fire his wife sat reading quietly. + +Cyril staggered back as if he had been struck. She, however, only turned +her head languidly and closing her book, surveyed him with a mocking +smile. + +For a moment Cyril saw red. His disappointment added fuel to his +indignation. + +"Amy! How dare you come here?" he cried, striding towards her. + +She seemed in nowise affected by his anger; only her expression became, +if possible, a trifle more contemptuous. + +"Your manners have sadly deteriorated since we parted," she remarked, +raising her eyebrows superciliously. + +"Manners!" he exclaimed and his voice actually shook with rage. "May I +ask how you expected to be received? Is it possible that you imagine +that I am going to take you back?" + +Her eyes narrowed, but she still appeared quite unconcerned. + +"Do you know, I rather think you will," she drawled. + +"Take you back, now that you have tired of your lover or he has become +disgusted with you, which is probably nearer the truth. Do you think I +am mad, or are you?" + +He fancied that he saw her wince, but she replied calmly: + +"Do not let us indulge in mutual recriminations. They are so futile." + +"Mutual recriminations, indeed! I like that! What have you to reproach +me with? Didn't I marry you to save you from disgrace and penury? +Haven't I done everything I could to keep you straight?" + +She rose slowly from her seat and he noticed for the first time that she +wore a low-cut gown of some diaphanous material, which revealed and yet +softened the too delicate lines of her sinuous figure. Her black hair +lay in thick waves around her face, completely covering the ears, and +wound in a coil at the back of her neck. He had never seen it arranged +in this fashion and reluctantly he had to admit that it was strangely +becoming to her. A wide band of dull gold, set with uncut gems, +encircled her head and added a barbaric note to her exotic beauty. It +was his last gift to her, he remembered. + +Yes, she was still beautiful, he acknowledged, although the life she had +led, had left its marks upon her. She looked older and frailer than when +he had seen her last. But to-night the sunken eyes glowed with +extraordinary brilliancy and a soft colour gave a certain roundness to +her hollow cheeks. As she stood before him, Cyril was conscious, for the +first time in years, of the alluring charm of her personality. + +She regarded him for a moment, her full red lips parted in an +inscrutable smile. How well he recalled that smile! He could never +fathom its meaning. In some mysterious way it suggested infinite +possibilities. How he hated it! + +"You tried everything, I grant you," she said at last, "except the one +thing which would have proved efficacious." + +"And what was that, pray?" + +"You never loved me." + +Her unexpected accusation made Cyril pause. Yes, it was true, he +acknowledged to himself. Had he not realised it during the last few days +as he had never done before? + +"You don't even take the trouble to deny it," she continued. "You +married me out of pity and instead of being ashamed of it, you actually +pride yourself on the purity of your motive." + +"Well, at any rate I can't see what there was to be ashamed of," he +replied indignantly. + +"Of course you can't! Oh, how you good people exasperate me! You seem to +lack all comprehension of the natural cravings of a normal human being. +Pity? What did I want with pity? I wanted love!" + +"It was not my fault that I could not love you." + +"No, but knowing that you did not love me, it was dastardly of you to +have married me without telling me the truth. In doing so, you took from +me my objective in life--you destroyed my ideals. Oh, don't look so +sceptical, you fool! Can't you see that I should never have remained a +governess until I was twenty-five, if I had not had ideals? It was +because I had such lofty conceptions of love that I kept myself +scrupulously aloof from men, so that I might come to my mate, when I +found him, with soul, mind, and body unsullied." + +She spoke with such passionate sincerity that it was with an effort +Cyril reminded himself that her past had not been as blameless as she +pictured it. + +"Your fine ideals did not prevent you from becoming a drunkard--" he +remarked drily. + +"When I married, I was not a drunkard," she vehemently protested. "The +existence I led was abhorrent to me, and it is true that occasionally +when I felt I could not stand it another moment, I would go to my room +after dinner and get what comfort I could out of alcohol; but what I +did, I did deliberately and not to satisfy an ungovernable appetite. I +was no more a drunkard than a woman who takes a dose of morphine during +bodily agony is a drug fiend. Of course, my conduct seems inexcusable to +you, for you are quite incapable of understanding the torture my life +was to me." + +"Other women have suffered far greater misfortunes and have borne them +with fortitude and dignity." + +"Look at me, Cyril; even now am I like other women?" She drew herself up +proudly. "Was it my fault that I was born with beauty that demanded its +due? Was I to blame that my blood leaped wildly through my veins, that +my imagination was always on fire? But I was, and still am, +instinctively and fundamentally a virtuous woman. Oh, you may sneer, but +it is true! Although as a girl I was starving for love, I never accepted +passion as a substitute, and you can't realise how incessantly the +latter was offered me. Wherever I went, I was persecuted by it. At times +I had a horrible fear that desire was all that I was capable of evoking; +and when you came to me in my misery, poverty, and disgrace, I hailed +you as my king--my man! I believed that you were offering me a love so +great that it welcomed the sacrifice of every minor consideration. It +never occurred to me that you would dare to ask me for myself, my life, +my future, unless you were able to give me in exchange something more +than the mere luxuries of existence." + +"I also offered you my life----" + +"You did not!" she interrupted him. "You offered up your life, not to +me, but to your own miserable conception of chivalry. The greatness of +your sacrifice intoxicated you and consequently it seemed to you +inevitable that I also would spend the rest of my days in humble +contemplation of your sublime character?" + +"Such an idea never occurred to me," Cyril angrily objected. + +"Oh, you never formulated it in so many words, I know that! You are too +self-conscious to be introspective and are actually proud of the fact +that you never stop to analyse either yourself or your motives. So you +go blundering through life without in the least realising what are the +influences which shape your actions. You fancy that you are not +self-centred because you are too shy, yes, and too vain to probe the +hidden recesses of your heart. You imagine that you are unselfish +because you make daily sacrifices to your own ideal of conduct. But of +that utter forgetfulness of self, of that complete merging and +submerging of your identity in another's, you have never had even the +vaguest conception. When you married me, it never occurred to you that I +had the right to demand both love and comprehension. You, the idealist, +expected me to be satisfied with the material advantages you offered; +but I, the degraded creature you take me to be, had I known the truth, +would never have consented to sell my birthright for a mess of pottage." + +"That sounds all very fine, and I confess I may not have been a perfect +husband, but after all, what would you have done, I should like to know, +if I had not married you?" + +"Done? I would have worked and hoped, and if work had failed me, I would +have begged and hoped. I would even have starved, before abandoning the +hope that some day I should find the man who was destined for me. When I +at last realised that you did not love me, you cannot imagine my +despair. I consumed myself in futile efforts to please you, but the very +intensity of my love prevented me from exercising those arts and +artifices which might have brought you to my feet. My emotion in your +presence was so great that it sealed my lips and made you find me a dull +companion." + +"I never thought you dull. You know very well that it was not that which +alienated me from you. When I married you, I may not have been what is +called in love with you, but I was certainly fond of you, and if you had +behaved yourself, I should no doubt in time have become more closely +united to you. You talk of 'consuming' yourself to please me. Nice, +effective word, that! I must add it to my vocabulary. But you chose a +strange means of gaining my affections when you took to disgracing +yourself both privately and publicly." + +The passionate resentment which had transfigured her slowly faded from +Amy's face, leaving it drawn and old; her voice, when she spoke, sounded +infinitely weary. + +"When I knew for a certainty that a lukewarm affection was all you would +ever feel for me, I lost hope, and in losing hope, I lost my foothold on +life. I wanted to die--I determined to die. Time and time again, I +pressed your pistol to my forehead, but something stronger than my will +always prevented me from pulling the trigger; and finally I sought +forgetfulness in drink, because I had not the courage to find it in +death. At first I tried to hide my condition from you, but there came a +moment when the sight of your bland self-satisfaction became unbearable, +when your absolute unconsciousness of the havoc you had made of my life +maddened me. I wanted you to suffer! Oh, not as I had suffered, you are +not capable of that; but at any rate I could hurt your vanity and deal a +death-blow to your pride! You had disgraced me when you tricked me into +giving myself to a man who did not love me; I determined to disgrace you +by reeling through the public streets. And I was glad, glad!" she cried +with indescribable bitterness. "When I saw you grow pale with anger, +when I saw you tremble with shame, I suppose you fancy that I must, at +times, have suffered from remorse and humiliation? I swear that never +for a moment have I regretted the course I chose. I am ashamed of +nothing except that I lacked the courage to kill myself. Drink? I bless +it! How I welcomed the gradual deadening of my senses, the dulling of my +fevered brain! When I awoke from my long torpor and found myself at +Charleroi, I cursed the doctor who had brought me back to life. Little +by little the old agony returned. The thought of you haunted me day and +night, while a raging thirst racked my body, and from this twofold +torture the constant supervision of the nurses prevented me from +obtaining even a temporary respite. It was hell!" + +For a moment Cyril felt a wave of pity sweep over him, but suddenly he +stiffened. + +"You forget to mention that--consolation was offered you." + +"Consolation! Had I found that, I should not be here! I admit, however, +that when I first noticed that M. de Brissac was attracted by me, I was +mildly pleased. It was a solace to my wounded vanity to find that some +one still found me desirable. But I swear that it never even occurred to +me to give myself to him, till the doctor told me that you were coming +to take me away with you. See you again? Subject myself anew to your +indifference--your contempt? Never! So I took the only means of escaping +from you which offered itself. And I am glad, glad that I flung myself +into the mire, for by defiling love, I killed it. I am at last free from +the obsession which has been the torment of my life. Neither you nor any +other man will again fire my imagination or stir my senses. I am dead, +but I am also free--free!" + +As she spoke the last words her expression was so exalted that Cyril was +forced to grant her his grudging admiration. As she stood before him, +she seemed more a spirit than a woman; she seemed the incarnation of +life, of love, of the very fundamentals of existence. She was really an +extraordinary woman; why did he not love her, he asked himself. But even +as this flashed through his mind the memory of his long martyrdom +obtruded itself. He saw her again not as she appeared then, but as the +central figure in a succession of loathsome scenes. + +"Your attempt to justify yourself may impose on others, but not on me. I +know you too well! You are rotten to the core. What you term love is +nothing but an abnormal craving, which no healthy-minded man with his +work in life to do could have possibly satisfied. Our code, however, is +too different for me to discuss the matter with you. And so, if you have +quite finished expatiating on my shortcomings, would you kindly tell me +to what I owe the honour of your visit?" + +She turned abruptly from him and leaned for a minute against the +mantelpiece; then, sinking into a chair, she took a cigarette from a box +which lay on the table near her and proceeded to light it with apparent +unconcern. Cyril, however, noticed that her hand trembled violently. +After inhaling a few puffs, she threw her head back and looked at him +tauntingly from between her narrowed lids. + +"Because, my dear Cyril, I read in yesterday's paper that your wife had +been your companion on your ill-timed journey from Paris. So I thought +it would be rather amusing to run over and find out a few particulars as +to the young person who is masquerading under my name." + +She had caught Cyril completely off his guard and he felt for a moment +incapable of parrying her attack. + +"I assure you," he stuttered, "it is all a mistake--" He hesitated; he +could think of no explanation which would satisfy her. + +"I expected you to tell me that she was as pure as snow!" she exclaimed +with a scornful laugh. "But how you with your puritanic ideas managed to +get yourself into such an imbroglio passes my understanding. Really, I +consider that you owe it to me, to satisfy my curiosity." + +"I regret that I am unable to do so." + +"So do I! Still, as I shall no doubt solve the riddle in a few days, I +can possess my soul in patience. Meanwhile I shall enjoy watching your +efforts to prevent me from learning the truth." + +"Unfortunately for you, that pleasure will be denied you. You are going +to leave this house at once and we shall not meet again till we do so +before judge and jury." + +Amy settled herself more comfortably in her chair. + +"So you will persist in trying to bluff it out? Foolish Cyril! Don't you +realise that I hold all the cards and that I am quite clever enough to +use them to the best advantage? You see, knowing you as I do, I am +convinced that the motive which led you to sacrifice both truth and +honour is probably as praiseworthy as it is absurd. But having made such +a sacrifice, why are you determined to render it useless? I cannot +believe that you are willing to face the loss not only of your own +reputation but of that of the young person who has accepted your +protection. How do you fancy she would enjoy figuring as corespondent in +a divorce suit?" + +Cyril felt as if he were caught in a trap. + +"My God," he cried, "you wouldn't do that! I swear to you that she is +absolutely innocent. She was in a terrible situation and to say that she +was my wife seemed the only way to save her. She doesn't even know I am +married!" + +"Really? And have you never considered that when she finds out the +truth, she may fail to appreciate the delicacy which no doubt prevented +you from mentioning the trifling fact of my existence? It is rather +funny that your attempts to rescue forlorn damsels seem doomed to be +unsuccessful! Or were your motives in this case not quite so impersonal +as I fancied? Has Launcelot at last found his Guinevere? If so, I may +yet be avenged vicariously." + +"Your presence is punishment enough, I assure you, for all the sins I +ever committed! But come to the point. What exactly is it that you are +threatening me with?" + +"Publicity, that is all. If neither you nor this woman object to its +being known that you travelled together as man and wife, then I am +powerless." + +"But you have just acknowledged that you know that our relation is a +harmless one," cried Cyril. + +"I do not know it--but--yes, I believe it. Do you think, however, that +any one else will do so?" + +"Surely you would not be such a fiend as to wreck the life of an +innocent young girl?" + +"If her life is wrecked, whose fault is it? Not mine, at all events. It +was you who by publicly proclaiming her to be your wife, made it +impossible for her disgrace to remain a secret. Don't you realise that +even if I took no steps in the matter, sooner or later the truth is +bound to be discovered? Now I--and I alone--can save you from the +consequences of your folly. If you will agree not to divorce me, I +promise not only to keep your secret, but to protect the good name of +this woman by every means in my power." + +"I should like to know what you expect to gain by trying to force me to +take you back? Is it the title that you covet, or do you long to shine +in society? But remember that in order to do that, you would have +radically to reform your habits." + +"I have no intention of reforming and I don't care a fig for +conventional society!" + +"You tell me that you no longer love me and that you found existence +with me unsupportable. Why then are you not willing to end it?" + +"It is true, I no longer love you, but while I live, no other woman +shall usurp my place." + +"Your place! When you broke your marriage vows, you forfeited your right +to a place in my life. But I will make a compact with you. You can have +all the money you can possibly want as long as you neither do nor say +anything to imperil the reputation of the young lady in question." + +"All the wealth in the world could not buy my silence!" + +"This is too horrible!" cried Cyril almost beside himself. "In order to +shield a poor innocent child, you demand that I sacrifice my freedom, my +future, even my honour? Have you no sense of justice, no pity?" + +"None. I have said my last word. It is now for you to decide whether I +am to go or stay. Well--which is it to be?" + +Cyril looked into her white, set face; what he read there destroyed his +last, lingering hope. + +"Stay," he muttered through his clenched teeth. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +"I KNOW IT, COUSIN CYRIL" + + +Cyril leaned wearily back in his chair. He was in that state of +apathetic calm which sometimes succeeds a violent emotion. Of his wife +he had neither seen or heard anything since they parted the night +before. + +"My lord!" + +Cyril started, for he had not noticed Peter's entrance and the +suppressed excitement of the latter's manner alarmed him. + +"What is the matter now?" he demanded. + +"She's 'ere, my lord," replied Peter, dropping his voice till it was +almost a whisper. + +Cyril sprang from his seat. + +"Who?" he cried. "Speak up, can't you?" + +"The--the young lady, my lord, as you took charge of on the train. I was +just passing through the 'all as she came in and so----" + +"Here?" exclaimed Cyril. "Why didn't you show her up at once?" + +"But, my lord," objected Peter. "If 'er Ladyship should 'ear----" + +"Mind your own business, you fool, or----" + +But Peter had already scuttled out of the room. + +Cyril waited, every nerve strung to the highest tension. Was he again to +be disappointed? Yet if his visitor was really Anita, some new +misfortune must have occurred! It seemed to him ages before the door +again opened and admitted a small, cloaked figure, whose features were +practically concealed by a heavy veil. A glance, however, sufficed to +assure him that it was indeed Anita who stood before him. While Cyril +was struggling to regain his composure, she lifted her veil. The +desperation of her eyes appalled him. + +"My God, what is the matter?" cried Cyril, striding forward and seizing +her hands. + +She gently disengaged herself. + +"Lord Wilmersley--" Cyril jumped as if he had been shot. "Yes," she +continued, "I know who you are. I also know who I am." + +"But who told you?" stuttered Cyril. + +"You did," she quietly replied. + +"I? What do you mean?" + +For the first time the ghost of a smile hovered round her lips. + +"You called me Anita! You didn't know that, did you?" + +"Did I really? What a blundering fool I have been from first to last!" +Cyril exclaimed remorsefully. + +"You need not reproach yourself. For some days I had been haunted by +fragmentary visions of the past and before I saw you yesterday, I was +practically certain that you were not my husband. Oh! It was not without +a struggle that I finally made up my mind that you had deceived me. I +told myself again and again that you were not the sort of a man who +would take advantage of an unprotected girl; yet the more I thought +about it, the more convinced I became that my suspicions were correct. +Then I tried to imagine what reason you could have for posing as my +husband, but I could think of none. I was in despair! I didn't know what +to do, whom to turn to; for if I could not trust you, whom could I +trust? When I heard my name, it was as if a dim light suddenly flooded +my brain. I knew who I was. I remembered leaving Geralton, but little by +little I realised with dismay that I was still completely in the dark as +to who you were, why you had come into my life. It seemed to me that if +I could not discover the truth, I should go mad. Then I decided to +appeal to Miss Trevor. She was a woman. She looked kind. She would tell +me! I was somehow convinced that she did not know who I was, but I said +to myself that she would certainly have heard of my disappearance, for I +could not believe that Arthur had allowed me to go out of his life +without moving heaven and earth to find me." + +"You did not know----?" + +Anita shook her head. + +"No; it was Miss Trevor who told me that Arthur was dead--that he had +been murdered." She shuddered convulsively. "You see," she added with +pathetic humility, "there are still so many things I do not remember. +Even now I can hardly believe that I, I of all people, killed my +husband." Great tears coursed slowly down her cheeks. + +Cyril ached for pity of her. + +"Why take it for granted that you did?" he suggested, partly from a +desire to comfort her, but also because there really lingered a doubt in +his mind. + +"Do you suspect any one else?" she cried. + +"Not at present, but----" + +She threw up her hands with a gesture of despair. "No, of course not. I +must have killed him. But I never meant to--you will believe that, won't +you? Those doctors were right, I must have been insane!" + +"I am sure you were not. Arthur only intended to frighten you by sending +for those men." + +"But if I was not crazy, why can I remember so little of what took place +on that dreadful night and for some time afterwards?" + +"I am told that a severe shock often has that effect," replied Cyril. +"But, oh, how I wish you could answer a few questions! I don't want to +raise your hopes; but there is one thing that has always puzzled me and +till that is explained I for one shall always doubt whether it was you +who killed Arthur." + +Again the eager light leaped into her eyes. + +"Oh, tell me quickly what--what makes you think that I may not have done +so?" + +Cyril contemplated her a moment in silence. He longed to pursue the +topic, but was fearful of the effect it might have on her. + +"Yet now that she knows the worst, it may be a relief to her to talk +about it," he said to himself. "Yes, I will risk it," he finally +decided. + +"Do you remember that you put a drug in Arthur's coffee?" he asked out +loud. + +"Yes, perfectly." + +"Then you must have expected to make your escape before he regained +consciousness." + +"Yes--yes!" + +"Then why did you arm yourself with a pistol?" + +"I didn't! I had no pistol." + +"But if you shot Arthur, you must have had a pistol." + +She stared at Cyril in evident bewilderment. + +"I could have sworn I had no pistol." + +Cyril tried to control his rising excitement. "You knew, however, that +Arthur owned one?" + +"Yes, but I never knew where he kept it." + +"You are sure you have not forgotten----" + +"No, no!" she interrupted him. "My memory is perfectly clear up to the +time when Arthur seized me and threw me on the floor." + +"After that you remember nothing?" + +"Oh, yes, I have a vague recollection of a long walk through the +dark--of a train--of you--of policemen. But everything is so confused +that I can be sure of nothing." + +Cyril paced the room deep in thought. + +"It seems to me incredible," he said at last, "that if you did not even +know where to look for a pistol, you should have found it, to say +nothing of having been able to use it, while you were being beaten into +unconsciousness by that brute." + +But Anita only shook her head hopelessly. + +"It is extraordinary, and yet I must have done so. For it has been +proved, has it not, that Arthur and I were absolutely alone?" + +"Certainly not! How can we be sure that some one was not concealed in +the room or did not climb in through the window or--why, there are a +thousand possibilities which can never be proved!" + +"Ah!" she exclaimed, her whole body trembling with eagerness. "I now +remember that I had put all my jewels in a bag, and as that has +disappeared, a burglar--" But as she scanned Cyril's face, she paused. + +"You had the bag with you at the nursing home. The jewels are safe," he +said very gently. + +"Then," she cried, "it is useless trying to deceive ourselves any +longer--I killed Arthur and must face the consequences." + +"What do you mean?" + +"I have decided to give myself up." + +"You shall not! I will not allow it!" he cried. + +"But don't you see that I can't spend the rest of my life in hiding? +Think what it would mean to live in daily, hourly dread of exposure? +Why, death would be preferable to that." + +"Oh, you would be acquitted. There is no doubt of that. That is not what +I am afraid of. But the idea of you, Anita, in prison. Why, it is out of +the question. A week of it would kill you." + +"And if it did, what of it? What has life to offer me now?" + +"Give me time. I will find some way of saving you. I will do +anything--everything." + +"There is nothing you can do," she said, laying her hand gently on his +arm. "You have already risked too much. Oh, I can never thank you enough +for all your goodness to me!" + +"Don't--don't--I would gladly give my life for you!" + +"I know it, Cousin Cyril," she murmured, with downcast eyes. A wave of +colour swept for a moment over her face. + +Cyril shivered. With a mighty effort he strove to regain his composure. +Cousin Cyril! Yes, that was what he was to her--that was all he could +ever be to her. + +"I know how noble, how unselfish you are," she continued, lifting her +brimming eyes to his. "But your life is not your own. We must both +remember that." + +"Both? Anita, is it possible that you----" + +"Hush! I have said too much. Let me go," she cried, for Cyril had seized +her hand and was covering it with kisses. + +At this moment the door-handle rattled. Cyril and Anita moved hurriedly +away from each other. + +"Inspector Griggs is 'ere, my lord." + +Peter's face had resumed its usual stolid expression. He appeared not to +notice that his master and the latter's guest were standing in strained +attitudes at opposite ends of the room. + +"I can't see him." Cyril motioned Peter impatiently away. + +"Why didn't you see the inspector?" exclaimed Anita. "This is the best +time for me to give myself up." + +"No, no! I have a plan----" + +He was interrupted by the reappearance of Peter. + +"The inspector is very sorry, my lord, but he has to see you at once, 'e +says." + +"I can't," began Cyril. + +"It is no use putting it off," Anita said firmly. "I insist on your +seeing him. If you don't, I shall go down and speak to him myself." + +Cyril did not know what to do. He could not argue with her before Peter. +So turning to the latter, he said: + +"You can bring him up in ten minutes--not before. You understand?" + +"Yes, my lord." + +"Anita," implored Cyril, as soon as they were again alone, "I beg you +not to do this thing. If a plan that I have in mind succeeds, you will +be able to leave the country and begin life again under another name." + +She hesitated a moment. + +"What is this plan?" + +He outlined it briefly. + +She listened attentively, but when he had finished she shook her head. + +"I will not allow you to attempt it. If your fraud were discovered--and +it would surely be discovered--your life would be ruined." + +"No--" he began. + +"I tell you I will not hear of it. No, I am determined to end this +horrible suspense. Call the inspector." + +"I entreat you at all events to wait a little while longer." + +"No, no!" + +Cyril was almost frantic. The minutes were slipping past. Was there +nothing he could say to turn her from her purpose? + +"My wife is here. If she should hear, if she should know--" he began +tentatively. + +He was amazed at the effect of his words. + +"Why didn't you tell me that she was here?" exclaimed Anita with +flashing eyes. "Of course, I haven't the slightest intention of +involving her in my affairs. I will go at once." + +"But you can't leave the house without Griggs seeing you, and he would +certainly guess who you are. Stay in the next room till he is gone, that +is all I ask of you. Here, quick, I hear footsteps on the stairs." + +Cyril had hardly time to fling himself into a chair before the inspector +was announced. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE TRUTH + + +"Good-morning, my lord. Rather early to disturb you, I am afraid." + +Cyril noticed that Griggs's manner had undergone a subtle change. +Although perfectly respectful, he seemed to hold himself rigidly aloof. +There was even a certain solemnity about his trivial greeting. Cyril +felt that another blow was impending. Instantly and instinctively he +braced himself to meet it. + +"Not at all. What can I do for you?" he replied in his usual quiet +voice. + +The man hesitated a moment. + +"The fact is, my lord, I should like to ask you a few questions, but I +warn you that your answers may be used against you." + +"I have nothing to fear. What is it you want to know?" + +"Have you missed a bag, my lord?" + +"That confounded bag! It has turned up at last," thought Cyril. What on +earth should he say? How much did the fellow guess? + +"You had better ask my man. He knows more about my things than I do," he +managed to answer, as he lifted a perfectly expressionless face to +Griggs's inspection. + +"Quite so, my lord. But I fancy that as far as this particular bag is +concerned, that is not the case." + +"Why not?" + +"Because I do not see what reason he could have had for hiding one of +his master's bags up the chimney." + +"So the bag was found up the chimney? Will you tell me what motive I am +supposed to have had for wishing to conceal it? Is there anything +remarkable about it? Did it contain anything you thought I might want to +get rid of?" + +The inspector eyed him narrowly. + +"It's no use, my lord. We know that Priscilla Prentice bought this bag a +fortnight ago in Newhaven. Now, if you are able to explain how it came +into your possession, I would strongly advise your doing so." + +Still Cyril did not flinch. + +"I have never to my knowledge laid eyes on the girl, and I cannot, +therefore, believe that a bag of hers has been found here." + +"We can prove it," replied the inspector. "The maker's name is inside +and the man who sold it to her is willing to swear that it is the +identical bag. One of our men has made friends with your chamber-maid +and she confessed that she had discovered it stuffed up the chimney in +your bedroom. She is a stupid girl and thought you had thrown it away, +so she took it. Only afterwards, it occurred to her that you had a +purpose in placing the bag where she had found it and she was going to +return it when my man prevented her from doing so." + +"Very remarkable! It all fits together like clock-work. I congratulate +you, Inspector," said Cyril, trying to speak superciliously. "But you +omitted to mention the most important link in the chain of evidence you +have so cleverly forged against me," he continued. "How am I supposed to +have got hold of this bag? I did not stop in Newhaven and you have had +me so closely watched that you must know that since my arrival in +England I have met no one who could have given it to me." + +"No, my lord, we are by no means sure of this. Quite the contrary. It is +true that we have, so to speak, kept an eye on you, but, till yesterday, +we had no reason to suspect that you had any connection with the murder, +so we did not think it necessary to have you closely followed. There +have been hours when we have had no idea where you were." + +"You surprise me!" + +"It is quite possible," continued the inspector without heeding Cyril's +interruption, "that you have met either Prentice or Lady Wilmersley, the +dowager, I mean." + +"Really! And why should they have given this bag to me, of all people? +Surely you must see that they could have found many easier, as well as +safer, ways of disposing of it." + +"Quite so, my lord, and that is why I am inclined to believe that it was +not through either of them that the bag came into your possession. I +think it more probable that her Ladyship brought it with her." + +"Her Ladyship? What do you mean?" Cyril's voice grew suddenly harsh. + +"You told me yourself that her Ladyship met you in Newhaven; that, in +fact, she had spent the night of the murder there." + +Cyril clutched the table convulsively. + +Amy! They suspected Amy. This was too horrible! Why had it never +occurred to him that his lies might involve an innocent person? + +"But this is absurd, you know," he stammered, in a futile effort to gain +time. + +"Let us hope so, my lord." + +"There has been a terrible mistake, I tell you." + +"In that case her Ladyship can no doubt easily explain it." + +"Her Ladyship is ill. She cannot be disturbed." + +"I am afraid that cannot be avoided. I must see her at once. But if you +wish it, I will not question her till she has been examined by our +doctors." + +Cyril rose and moved automatically towards the door. + +The inspector stepped forward. + +"Sorry, my lord, but for the present you can see her Ladyship only +before witnesses. May I ring the bell?" + +"What is the use of asking my permission? You are master here, so it +seems," exclaimed Cyril. His nerves were at last getting beyond his +control. + +"I am only doing my duty and I assure you that I want to cause as little +unpleasantness as possible." + +A servant appeared. + +The inspector remained discreetly in the background. + +"Ask her Ladyship please to come here as soon as she can get ready. If +she is asleep, it will be necessary to wake her." + +"Very good, my lord." + +The two men sat facing each other in silence. + +Cyril was hardly conscious of the other's presence. He must think; he +knew he must think; but his brain seemed paralysed. There must be a way +of clearing his wife without casting suspicion on Anita. Yet he could +think of none. Was it possible that he was now called upon to choose +between the woman he hated and the woman he loved, between honour and +dishonour? No, there must be a middle course. Time would surely solve +the difficulty. + +The door opened and Amy came slowly into the room. She looked +desperately ill. + +She was wrapped in a red velvet dressing-gown and its warm colour +contrasted painfully with the greyness of her face and lips. On catching +sight of the inspector, she started, but controlling herself with an +obvious effort, she turned to her husband. + +"You wish to speak to me?" + +"You can see for yourself, Inspector, that her Ladyship is in no +condition to be questioned," remonstrated Cyril, moving quickly to his +wife's side. + +"Just as you say, my lord, but in that case her Ladyship had better +finish her dressing. It will be necessary for her to accompany me to +headquarters." + +"I will not allow it," cried Cyril, almost beside himself and throwing a +protecting arm around Amy's shoulders. + +Her bloodshot eyes rested a moment on her husband, then gently +disengaging herself, she drew herself to her full height and faced the +inspector. + +"What is the matter? You need not try to spare me." + +"His Lordship----" + +"Do not listen to his Lordship. It is I who demand to be told the +truth." + +"Amy, I beg you--" interposed Cyril. + +"No, no," she cried, shaking off her husband's hand. "Let me know the +worst. Don't you see that you are torturing me?" + +"There has been a mistake. It is all my fault," began Cyril. + +She silenced him with an imperious gesture. + +"I am waiting to hear what the inspector has to say." + +Griggs cast a questioning look at Cyril, which the latter answered by a +helpless shrug. + +"A bag has been found in his Lordship's chimney, which was lately +purchased in Newhaven. Do you know how it got there? But perhaps before +answering, you may wish to consult your legal adviser." + +She cast a quick glance at her husband. + +"I will neither acknowledge nor deny anything until I have seen this bag +and know of what I am accused," she answered after a barely perceptible +pause. + +Griggs opened the door and called: + +"Jones, the bag, please." + +The inspector handed it to Amy. + +She looked at it for a moment. Cyril watched her breathlessly. What +would she say? Had the moment come when he must proclaim the truth? + +"Am I supposed to have bought this bag?" she asked. + +"No, my lady. It was sold to Prentice, who was sempstress at Geralton +and we believe it is the one in which Lady Wilmersley carried off her +jewels." + +Amy gave a muffled exclamation, but almost instantly she regained her +composure. + +"If that is so, how do you connect me with it? Because it happens to +have been found here, do you accuse me of having robbed my cousin?" + +"No, my lady, but as you spent the night of the murder in Newhaven----" + +To Cyril's surprise she shuddered from head to foot. + +"No, no!" she cried, stretching out her hands as if to ward off a blow. + +"It is useless to deny it. His Lordship himself told me that you had +joined him there." + +"I lied! It was not her Ladyship who was with me. Her Ladyship was in +Paris at the time. I swear it on my honour. The bag is--is mine. You can +arrest me. I am guilty." Thank God, thought Cyril, he had at last found +a way of saving both his love and his honour. + +"Guilty of what, my lord? Of a murder which was committed while you were +still in France--" asked Griggs, lifting his eyebrows incredulously. + +"Yes! I mean I instigated it--I hated my cousin--I needed the money, so +I hired an accomplice. He bungled things. I give myself up. I confess. +What more do you want?" cried Cyril. + +"Not so fast, my lord. Of course, if you insist upon it, I shall have to +arrest you, but I don't believe you had anything more to do with the +murder than I had, and I would stake my reputation on your being as +straight a gentleman as I ever met professionally. Wait a bit, my lord, +don't be 'asty." In his excitement Griggs dropped one of his carefully +guarded aitches. + +The door opened. + +"Mr. Campbell, my lord." + +"Guy," exclaimed Cyril. "You have arrived in the nick of time. I have +confessed." + +"Confessed what?" Campbell cast a bewildered look at the inspector. + +"His Lordship says that he hired an assassin to murder Lord Wilmersley." + +"What rot! You don't believe him, I hope?" + +"He _shall_ believe me," cried Cyril. "I alone am responsible for +Wilmersley's death. The person who actually fired the shot was nothing +but my tool. I will never betray him, never!" + +"Honour among murderers, I see! Really, Cyril, you are too ridiculous," +exclaimed Campbell. + +Suddenly he caught sight of Amy, cowering in the shadow of the curtain. + +"Who is this lady?" he asked. + +"My wife! Look after her. Look after everything." Cyril gave Guy a look +in which he tried to convey all that he did not dare to say. + +The door again opened. + +"Mr. Judson is 'ere, my lord. I told him you were engaged, but he says +he would like to speak to you most particular." + +"I don't want to see him," began Cyril. + +"Don't be a greater fool than you can help," exclaimed Campbell. "How do +you know that he has not some important news?" + +"But--" objected Cyril. + +"Good morning, your Lordship. How do you do, Inspector. Mr. Campbell, I +believe. Your servant, your Ladyship. I took the liberty of forcing +myself upon you at this moment, my lord, because I have just learnt +certain facts which----" + +"It is too late to report," interposed Cyril hastily. "I have +confessed." + +The detective smiled indulgently. + +"Why, my lord, what is the use of pretending that you had anything to do +with the murder? I hurried here to tell you that there is no further +need of your sacrificing yourself. I have found out who----" + +"Shut up, I say. I did it. It's none of your business anyhow!" cried +Cyril incoherently. + +"Don't listen to his Lordship," said Amy. "We all know, of course, that +he is perfectly innocent. He is trying to shield some one. But who?" She +cast a keen look at Cyril. + +"That's just it," Judson agreed. "And it is partly my fault. I convinced +his Lordship that Lord Wilmersley was murdered by his wife. I have come +here to tell him that I was mistaken. It is lucky that I discovered the +truth in time." + +"Thank God!" cried Cyril. "I always knew she was innocent." His relief +was so intense that it robbed him of all power of concealment. + +Amy's mouth hardened into a straight, inflexible line; her eyes +narrowed. + +"I suppose that you have some fact to support your extraordinary +assertion?" demanded Griggs, unable to hide his vexation at finding that +his rival had evidently outwitted him. + +"Certainly, but I will say no more till I have his Lordship's +permission. He is my employer, you know." + +"What difference does that make?" asked Cyril. "I am more anxious than +any one to discover the truth." + +"Permit me to suggest, my lord, that it would be better if I could first +speak to you in private." + +"Nonsense," exclaimed Cyril impatiently. "I am tired of this eternal +secrecy. Tell us what you have found out." + +The detective's brows contracted slightly. + +"Very well, only remember, I warned you." + +"That's all right." + +"Have you forgotten, my lord, that I told you I always had an idea that +those two Frenchmen who were staying at the Red Lion Inn, were somehow +implicated in the affair?" + +"But what possible motive could they have had for murdering my cousin?" +demanded Cyril. + +The detective's eyes appeared to wander aimlessly from one of his +auditors to another. + +"We are waiting. What about those Frenchmen?" + +It was Amy who spoke. She moved slowly forward, and leaning her arm on +the mantelpiece confronted the four men. + +"You wish me to continue?" asked Judson. + +"Certainly. Why not?" + +The detective inclined his head and again turned towards Cyril. + +"Having once discovered their identity, my lord, their motive was quite +apparent." + +"Well, who are they? Out with it." + +"The elder," began Judson, speaking very slowly, "is Monsieur de +Brissac. The younger--" he paused. + +For a moment Cyril was too stunned to speak. He could do nothing but +stare stupidly at the detective. Amy guilty! Amy! It was incredible! + +"Stop! Your suspicions are absurd! Do not listen to him, Inspector!" He +hardly knew what he was saying. He only realised confusedly that +something within him was crying to him to save her. + +A wonderful light suddenly transfigured Amy's drawn face. + +"Cyril, would you really do this for----" + +"Hush!" He tried to silence her. + +She turned proudly to the inspector. + +"I don't care now who knows the truth. I killed Lord Wilmersley." + +"Don't listen to her! Don't you see that she is not accountable for what +she is saying?" cried Cyril. He had forgotten everything but that she +was a woman--his wife. + +"I killed Lord Wilmersley," Amy repeated, as if he had not spoken, "but +I did not murder him." + +"Does your Ladyship expect us to believe that you happened to call at +the castle at half-past ten in the evening, and that during an amicable +conversation you accidentally shot Lord Wilmersley?" demanded Griggs. + +"No," replied Amy contemptuously, "of course not! I--" She hesitated. + +"If your Ladyship had not ulterior purpose in going to Newhaven, why did +you disguise yourself as a boy and live there under an assumed name? And +who is this Frenchman who posed as your brother?" + +Amy threw her head back defiantly. A faint colour swept over her face. + +"Monsieur de Brissac was my lover. When we discovered that his Lordship +was employing detectives, we went to Newhaven, because we thought that +it was the last place where they would be likely to look for us. I +disguised myself to throw them off the scent." + +"But the description the inspector gave me of the boy did not resemble +you in the least," insisted Cyril. + +"It was I nevertheless. I merely cut off my hair and dyed it. See!" She +snatched the black wig from her head, disclosing a short crop of reddish +curls. + +"You have yet to explain," resumed the inspector sternly, "what took you +to Geralton in the middle of the night. Under the circumstances I should +have thought your Ladyship would hardly have cared to visit his +Lordship's relations." + +Ignoring Griggs, Amy turned to her husband. + +"My going there was the purest accident," she began in a dull, +monotonous voice, almost as if she were reciting a lesson, but as she +proceeded, her excitement increased till finally she became so absorbed +in her story that she appeared to forget her hearers completely. "I was +horribly restless, so we spent most of our time motoring and often +stayed out very late. One night a tire burst. I noticed that we had +stopped within a short walk of the castle. As I had never seen it except +at a distance, it occurred to me that I would like to have a nearer view +of the place. In my boy's clothes I found it fairly easy to climb the +low wall which separates the gardens from the park. Not a light was to +be seen, so, as there seemed no danger of my being discovered, I +ventured on to the terrace. As I stood there, I heard a faint cry. My +first impulse was to retrace my footsteps as quickly as possible, but +when I realised that it was a woman who was crying for help, I felt that +I must find out what was the matter. Running in the direction from which +the sound came, I turned a corner and found myself confronted by a +lighted window. The shrieks were now positively blood-curdling and there +was no doubt in my mind that some poor creature was being done to death +only a few feet away from me. The window was high above my head, but I +was determined to reach it. After several unsuccessful attempts I +managed to gain a foothold on the uneven surface of the wall and hoist +myself on to the window-sill. Luckily the window was partially open, so +I was able to slip noiselessly into the room and hide behind the +curtain. Peering through the folds, I saw a woman lying on the floor. +Her bodice was torn open, exposing her bare back. Over her stood a man +who was beating her with a piece of cord which was attached to the waist +of a sort of Eastern dressing-gown he wore. + +"'So you thought you would leave me, did you?' he cried over and over +again as the lash fell faster and faster. 'Well, you won't! Not till I +send you to hell, which I will some day.' + +"At last he paused and wiped the perspiration from his brow. He was very +fat and his exertions were evidently telling on him. + +"'Why shouldn't I kill you now? I have my pistol within reach of my +hand. It is here on my desk. Ah, you didn't know that, did you?' He gave +a fiendish laugh. + +"The woman shuddered but made no attempt to rise. + +"I was slowly recovering from the terror which had at first paralysed +me. I realised I must act at once if I meant to save Lady Wilmersley's +life. The desk was behind him. + +"Dropping on my hands and knees, I crept cautiously toward it. 'Kill +you, kill you, that is what I ought to do,' he kept repeating. + +"I reached the desk. No pistol was to be seen; yet I knew it was there. +As I fumbled among his papers, my hand touched an ancient steel +gauntlet. Some instinct told me that I had found what I sought. But how +to open it was the question. Some agonising moments passed before I at +last accidentally pressed the spring and a pistol lay in my hand. + +"He again raised the cord. + +"'Stop!' I cried. + +"He swung around and as he caught sight of the pistol levelled at his +head, the purple slowly faded from his face. + +"Then seemingly reassured at finding that it was only a boy who +confronted him, he took a step forward. + +"'Who the devil are you? Get out of here!' he cried. + +"'Stay where you are or I fire.' + +"'What nonsense is this?' he blustered, but I noticed that his knees +shook and he made no further effort to move. + +"'Climb out of the window. There is a car waiting in the road,' I called +to the girl. + +"'She shall not go!' he shrieked. The veins stood out on his temples. + +"I held him with my eye and saw his coward soul quiver with fear as I +moved deliberately nearer him. + +"'Do as I tell you. Run for your life,' I repeated. + +"'But you?' gasped Lady Wilmersley. + +"'I have the pistol. I am not afraid. I will follow you,' I assured her. + +"I knew rather than saw that she picked up a jacket and bag which lay +near the window. With a soft thud she dropped into the night. That is +the last I saw of her. What became of her I do not know." Amy paused a +moment. + +"As Lord Wilmersley saw his wife disappear, he gave a cry like a wounded +animal and rushed after her. I fired. He staggered back a few steps, +then turning he ran into the adjoining room. I heard a splash but did +not stop to find out what happened. Almost beside myself with terror, I +fled from the castle. If you have any more questions to ask, you had +better hurry." + +She stopped abruptly, trembling from head to foot, and glanced wildly +about her till her eyes rested on her husband. For a long, long moment +she regarded him in silence. She seemed to be gathering herself together +for a supreme effort. + +All four men watched her in breathless suspense. + +With her eyes still fastened on Cyril she fumbled in the bosom of her +dress, then her hand shot out, and before any one could prevent her, she +jabbed a hypodermic needle deep into her arm. + +"What have you done?" cried Cyril, springing forward and wrenching the +needle from her. + +A beatific smile spread slowly over her face. + +"You are--free," she gasped. + +She swayed a little and would have fallen if Cyril had not caught her. + +"Quick--a doctor," he cried. + +"It is too late," she murmured. "Too late! Forgive me, Cyril. +I--loved--you--so----" + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +CAMPBELL RESIGNS + + +Under a yew tree, overlooking a wide lawn, bordered on the farther side +by a bank of flowers, three people are sitting clustered around a +tea-table. + +One of them is a little old lady, the dearest old lady imaginable. By +her side, in a low basket chair, a girl is half sitting, half reclining. +Her small figure, clad in a simple black frock, gives the impression of +extreme youth, which impression is heightened by the fact that her +curly, yellow hair, reaching barely to the nape of her neck, is caught +together by a black ribbon like a schoolgirl's. But when one looks more +closely into her pale face, one realises somehow that she is a woman and +a woman who has suffered--who still suffers. + +On the ground facing the younger woman a red-headed young man in white +flannels is squatting tailor-fashion. He is holding out an empty cup to +be refilled. + +"Not another!" exclaims the little old lady in a horrified tone. "Why, +you have had three already!" + +"My dear Trevie, let me inform you once and for all that I have +abandoned my figure. Why should I persist in the struggle now that Anita +refuses to smile on me? When one's heart is broken, one had better make +the most of the few pleasures one can still enjoy. So another cup, +please." + +Anita took no notice of his sally; her eyes were fixed on the distant +horizon; she seemed absorbed in her own thoughts. + +"By the way," remarked Campbell casually as he sipped his tea, "I spent +last Sunday at Geralton." He watched Anita furtively. A faint flutter of +the eyelids was the only indication she gave of having heard him, yet +Guy was convinced that she was waiting breathlessly for him to continue. + +"How is Lord Wilmersley?" asked Miss Trevor with kindly indifference. + +"Very well indeed. He is doing a lot to the castle. You would hardly +know it--the interior, I mean." Although he had pointedly addressed +Anita, she made no comment. It was only after a long silence that she +finally spoke. + +"And how is Valdriguez?" she inquired. + +"Much the same. She plays all day long with the dolls Cyril bought for +her. She seems quite happy." + +Again they relapsed into silence. + +Miss Trevor took up her knitting, which had been lying in her lap, and +was soon busy avoiding the pitfalls a heel presents to the unwary. + +"I think I will go for a walk," said Anita, rising slowly from her seat. +There was a hint of exasperation in her voice which escaped neither of +her hearers. + +Miss Trevor peered anxiously over her spectacles at the retreating +figure. + +Campbell's rubicund countenance had grown strangely grave. + +"No better?" he asked as soon as Anita was out of earshot. + +Miss Trevor shook her head disconsolately. + +"Worse, I think. I can't imagine what can be the matter with her. She +seemed at one time to have recovered from her terrible experience. But +now, as you can see for yourself, she is absolutely wretched. She takes +no interest in anything. She hardly eats enough to keep a bird alive. If +she goes on like this much longer, she will fret herself into her grave. +Yet whenever I question her, she assures me that she is all right. I +really don't know what I ought to do." + +"Has it never occurred to you that she may be wondering why Wilmersley +has never written to her, nor been to see her?" + +"Lord Wilmersley? Why--no. She hardly ever mentions him." + +"She never mentions him," corrected Guy. "She inquires after everybody +at Geralton except Cyril. Doesn't that strike you as very suspicious?" + +"Oh, you don't mean that----" + +He nodded. + +"But she hardly knows him! You told me yourself that she had only seen +him three or four times." + +"True, but you must remember that they met under very romantic +conditions. And Cyril is the sort of chap who would be likely to appeal +to a girl's imagination." + +"Lady Wilmersley in love! I can't believe it!" exclaimed Miss Trevor. + +"I wish I didn't," muttered Guy under his breath. + +She heard him, however, and laid her small, wrinkled hand tenderly on +his shoulder. + +"My poor boy, I guessed your trouble long ago." + +"Don't pity me! It doesn't hurt any longer--not much at least. When one +realises a thing is quite hopeless, one somehow ends by adjusting +oneself to the inevitable. What I feel for her now is more worship than +love. I want above all things that she should be happy, and if Cyril can +make her so, I would gladly speed his wooing." + +"Do you think he has any thought of her?" + +"I am sure he loves her." + +"Then why has he given no sign of life all these months?" + +"I fancy he is waiting for the year of their mourning to elapse. But I +confess that I am surprised that he has been able to restrain his +impatience as long as this. Every day I have expected--" + +"By Jove!" cried Campbell, springing to his feet, "there he is now!" + +Miss Trevor turned and saw a tall figure emerge from the house. + +Being plunged suddenly into the midst of romance, together with the +unexpected and dramatic arrival of the hero, was too much for the little +lady's composure. Her bag, her knitting, her glasses fell to the ground +unheeded as she rose hurriedly to receive Lord Wilmersley. + +"So glad to see you! Let me give you a cup of tea, or would you prefer +some whiskey and soda?" She was so flustered that she hardly knew what +she was saying. + +"Thanks, I won't take anything. Hello, Guy! You here? Rather fancied I +might run across you." + +Cyril's eyes strayed anxiously hither and thither. + +"Looking for Anita, are you?" asked Guy. + +"I?" Cyril gave a start of guilty surprise. "Yes, I was wondering where +she was." His tone was excessively casual. + +"Humph!" grunted Campbell contemptuously. + +"She has gone for a little walk, but as she never leaves the grounds, +she can't be very far off," said Miss Trevor. + +"Perhaps--" Cyril hesitated; he was painfully embarrassed. + +Guy came to his rescue. + +"Come along," he said. "I will show you where you are likely to find +her." + +"Thanks! I did rather want to see her--ahem, on business!" + +"On business? Oh, you old humbug!" jeered Campbell as he sauntered off. + +For a moment Cyril glared at Guy's back indignantly; then mumbling an +apology to Miss Trevor, he hastened after him. + +They had gone only a short distance before they espied a small, +black-robed figure coming towards them. Guy stopped short; he glanced at +Cyril, but the latter was no longer conscious of his presence. Without a +word he turned and hurriedly retraced his footsteps. + +"Well, Trevie," he said, "I must be going. Can't loaf forever, worse +luck!" His manner was quite ostentatiously cheerful. + +Miss Trevor, however, was not deceived by it. "You are a dear, +courageous boy," she murmured. + +With a flourish of his hat that seemed to repudiate all sympathy, Guy +turned on his heel and marched gallantly away. + +Meanwhile, in another part of the garden, a very different scene was +being enacted. + +On catching sight of each other Cyril and Anita had both halted +simultaneously. Cyril's heart pounded so violently that he could hardly +hear himself think. + +"I must be calm," he said to himself. "I must be calm! But how beautiful +she is! If I only had a little more time to collect my wits! I know I +shall make an ass of myself!" + +As these thoughts went racing through his brain, he had been moving +almost automatically forward. Already he could distinguish the soft +curve of her parted lips and the colour of her dilated eyes. + +A sudden panic seized him. He was conscious of a wild desire to fly from +her presence; but it was too late. He was face to face with her. + +For a moment neither moved, but under the insistence of his gaze her +eyes slowly sank before his. Then, without a word, as one who merely +claims his own, he flung his arms around her and crushed her to his +heart. + + +THE END + + + + +_A Selection from the Catalogue of_ G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS + + +The House Opposite + +_A Mystery_ By ELIZABETH KENT + +Author of "Who?" + + +"It is a very hotbed of mystery, and everything and everybody connected +with it arouses curiosity.... The plot is unusually puzzling and the +author has been successful in producing a really admirable work. The +climax is highly sensational and unexpected, ingeniously leading the +reader from one guess to another, and finally culminating in a +remarkable confession."--_N. Y. Journal._ + + +Beyond the Law + +By Miriam Alexander + +_The Great Prize Novel Awarded Prize of $1,250.00_ + +_Endorsed by A. C. Benson, A. E. W. Mason, W. J. Locke_ + + +"We have individually and unanimously given first place to the MSS. +entitled 'Beyond the Law.' It is a lively, unaffected, and interesting +story of good craftsmanship, showing imagination and insight, with both +vivid and dramatic qualities." + +The scene is laid in Ireland and in France, the time is the William of +Orange period, and deals with the most cruel persecution against the +Catholics of Ireland. + + +The Way of an Eagle + +By E. M. Dell + +_Frontispiece in Color by John Cassel_ + +"_A born teller of stories. She certainly has the right stuff in +her._"--London Standard. + +"In these days of overmuch involved plot and diction in the writing of +novels, a book like this brings a sense of refreshment, as much by the +virility and directness of its style as by the interest of the story it +tells.... The human interest of the book is absorbing. The descriptions +of life in India and England are delightful.... But it is the intense +humanity of the story--above all, that of its dominating character, Nick +Ratcliffe, that will win for it a swift appreciation."--_Boston +Transcript._ + +"Well written, wholesome, overflowing with sentiment, yet never mawkish. +Lovers of good adventure will enjoy its varied excitement, while the +frankly romantic will peruse its pages with joy."--_Chicago +Record-Herald._ + + +Through the Postern Gate + +A Romance in Seven Days. (Under the Mulberry Tree.) + +_By_ Florence L. Barclay + +Author of "The Rosary," "The Mistress of Shenstone," "The Following of +the Star." + +"_A masterpiece._"--Phila. Ledger + +"The well-known author of 'The Rosary' has not sought problems to solve +nor social conditions to arraign in her latest book, but has been +satisfied to tell a sweet and appealing love-story in a wholesome, +simple way.... There is nothing startling nor involved in the plot, and +yet there is just enough element of doubt in the story to stimulate +interest and curiosity. The book will warm the heart with its sweet and +straightforward story of life and love in a romantic setting."--_The +Literary Digest._ + +_Nearly One Million copies of Mrs. Barclay's popular stories have now +been printed._ + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WHO?*** + + +******* This file should be named 35205-8.txt or 35205-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/5/2/0/35205 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://www.gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: +http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + diff --git a/35205-8.zip b/35205-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..03b3b3d --- /dev/null +++ b/35205-8.zip diff --git a/35205-h.zip b/35205-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..66b14af --- /dev/null +++ b/35205-h.zip diff --git a/35205-h/35205-h.htm b/35205-h/35205-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8a8c802 --- /dev/null +++ b/35205-h/35205-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9105 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Who?, by Elizabeth Kent</title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; +} /* page numbers */ + +.linenum { + position: absolute; + top: auto; + left: 4%; +} /* poetry number */ + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +.sidenote { + width: 20%; + padding-bottom: .5em; + padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; + padding-right: .5em; + margin-left: 1em; + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; + color: black; + background: #eeeeee; + border: dashed 1px; +} + +.bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + +.bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + +.bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + +.br {border-right: solid 2px;} + +.bbox {border: solid 2px;} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.u {text-decoration: underline;} + +.caption {font-weight: bold;} + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + +.figleft { + float: left; + clear: left; + margin-left: 0; + margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 1em; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +.figright { + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-left: 1em; + margin-bottom: + 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 0; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +/* Footnotes */ +.footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + +.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + +.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + +.fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: + none; +} + +/* Poetry */ +.poem { + margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + text-align: left; +} + +.poem br {display: none;} + +.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + +.poem span.i0 { + display: block; + margin-left: 0em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i2 { + display: block; + margin-left: 2em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i4 { + display: block; + margin-left: 4em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + + hr.full { width: 100%; + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + height: 4px; + border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ + border-style: solid; + border-color: #000000; + clear: both; } + pre {font-size: 85%;} + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, Who?, by Elizabeth Kent</h1> +<pre> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: Who?</p> +<p>Author: Elizabeth Kent</p> +<p>Release Date: February 7, 2011 [eBook #35205]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WHO?***</p> +<p> </p> +<h4>E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Mary Meehan,<br /> + and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (<a href="http://www.pgdp.net">http://www.pgdp.net</a>)<br /> + from page images generously made available by<br /> + Internet Archive/American Libraries<br /> + (<a href="http://www.archive.org/details/americana">http://www.archive.org/details/americana</a>)</h4> +<p> </p> +<table border="0" style="background-color: #ccccff;margin: 0 auto;" cellpadding="10"> + <tr> + <td valign="top"> + Note: + </td> + <td> + Images of the original pages are available through + Internet Archive/American Libraries. See + <a href="http://www.archive.org/details/whobyelizabethke00kentiala"> + http://www.archive.org/details/whobyelizabethke00kentiala</a> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<h1>Who?</h1> + +<h2>By Elizabeth Kent</h2> + +<h3>Author of "The House Opposite," etc.</h3> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h3>G. P. Putnam's Sons<br /> +New York and London<br /> +The Knickerbocker Press</h3> + +<h3>1912</h3> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Copyright, 1912</span><br /> +BY G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS</h3> + +<h3>The Knickerbocker Press, New York</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/front.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"Here, quick, I hear footsteps on the stairs!"<br /> +From the drawing by John Cassel, (Chapter XX)</h3> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> +<p> +<a href="#CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I. <span class="smcap">The Woman in the Compartment</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II. "<span class="smcap">Mrs. Peter Thompkins</span>"</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III. <span class="smcap">The Tribulations of a Liar</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV. <span class="smcap">On the Scene of the Tragedy</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V. <span class="smcap">The Detective Detects</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI. <span class="smcap">The Mysterious Maid</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII. <span class="smcap">The Inquest</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII. <span class="smcap">Lady Upton</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX. <span class="smcap">The Jewels</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X. <span class="smcap">The Two Frenchmen</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI. <span class="smcap">The Inspector Interviews Cyril</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII. <span class="smcap">A Perilous Venture</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII. <span class="smcap">Campbell Remonstrates</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV. <span class="smcap">What Is the Truth?</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV. <span class="smcap">Finger Prints in the Dust</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI. <span class="smcap">The Story of a Wrong</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII. <span class="smcap">Guy Relents</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII. <span class="smcap">A Slip of the Tongue</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX. <span class="smcap">An Unexpected Visitor</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX. "<span class="smcap">I Know It, Cousin Cyril</span>"</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI. <span class="smcap">The Truth</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">CHAPTER XXII. <span class="smcap">Campbell Resigns</span></a><br /><br /> +<a href="#A_Selection_from_the_Catalogue_of_G_P_PUTNAMS_SONS">A Selection from the Catalogue of G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS</a><br /> +</p> +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>Who?</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>THE WOMAN IN THE COMPARTMENT</h3> + + +<p>It was six o'clock on a raw October morning, and the cross Channel boat +had just deposited its cargo of pale and dishevelled passengers at +Newhaven. Cyril Crichton, having seen his servant place his bags in a +first-class compartment, gazed gloomily at the scene before him.</p> + +<p>It was the first time in three years that he had set foot on his native +shore and the occasion seemed invested with a certain solemnity.</p> + +<p>"What a mess I have made of my life! Yet God knows I meant well!" He +muttered in his heart. "If I hadn't been such a good-natured ass, I +should never have got into all this trouble. But I won't be made a fool +of any longer. I will consult Campbell as to what—" He paused. It +suddenly occurred to him that he had forgotten to let the latter know of +his impending arrival. "I will send him a wire," he decided.</p> + +<p>The telegraph-office was farther off than he expected, and to Crichton's +disgust, he found it shut. He had forgotten that in well-regulated +England, even matters of life and death have to wait till the offices +open at eight <span class="smcap">A.M.</span></p> + +<p>He was still staring at the closed window, when he was startled by the +guard's whistle, and the slamming of the carriage doors. Turning +quickly, he ran back, trying to find his compartment, but it was too +late; the train was already moving. Flinging off a porter's detaining +hand, he jumped on to the foot-board and wrenched open the nearest door. +The impetus flung him headlong into the lap of a lady,—the sole +occupant of the carriage. To his horror and amazement, instead of +listening to his apologies, she uttered a piercing shriek and fell +forward into his arms. For a moment Crichton was too dazed to move. +There he knelt, tightly clasping her limp form and wondering fearfully +what would happen next. At last he managed to pull himself together, and +staggering to his feet, laid her gently on the seat near the window. +Strangely enough, he had had no idea, so far, as to the appearance, or +even the age, of the lady with whom fate had thrown him into such +intimate contact: consequently he now looked at her with considerable +curiosity. Her slight, graceful figure proclaimed her youth, but her +face was completely concealed by a thick, black veil, which prevented +him from so much as guessing the outline of her features. As she +continued to show no sign of returning consciousness, Crichton looked +helplessly around for some means of reviving her. More air was what she +needed; so with much trepidation he decided to unfasten her veil. His +fingers fumbled clumsily over their unaccustomed task, but finally the +last knot was disentangled, the last pin extracted. The unknown proved +to be even younger than he expected, and to possess beauty of the kind +which admits of no discussion. At present, however, it was sadly marred +by a red welt, probably the result of a fall, Crichton decided, which +disfigured her left cheek. A minute before he had been cursing his luck, +which invariably landed him in strange adventures, but at the sight of +her beauty, our hero suddenly ceased to find the situation annoying. His +interest, however, increased his alarm. What if she were dead or dying? +Heart attacks were not uncommon. Bending over her, he laid his hand on +her heart, and as he did so, the long lashes lifted, and a pair of +sapphire blue eyes looked straight into his. Before he had time to move, +she threw out both hands and cried: "Oh, let me go!"</p> + +<p>"Don't be alarmed. Notwithstanding my unceremonious entrance, I assure +you, I am a perfectly respectable member of society. My name is +Crichton."</p> + +<p>The girl staggered to her feet. "Crichton?" she gasped.</p> + +<p>He looked at her in surprise.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Crichton. Do you know any member of my family by any chance? My +cousin, Lord Wilmersley, has a place near here."</p> + +<p>"No," she faltered, "I—I am quite a stranger in this part of the +country."</p> + +<p>He was sure she was lying, but what could be her object in doing so? And +why had his name caused her such alarm? What unpleasant connection could +she possibly have with it? The only male members of his family who bore +it, were, a curate, serving his probation in the East End of London, and +a boy at Eton.</p> + +<p>"That is a pity," he said. "I hoped we might find some mutual friends +who would vouch for my inoffensiveness. I can't tell you how sorry I am +to have given you such a fright. It was unpardonably stupid of me. The +fact is, I am rather absent-minded, and I should have been left behind +if I had not tumbled in on you as I did. Please forgive me."</p> + +<p>"On the contrary, it is I who should apologise to you for having made +such a fuss about nothing. You must have thought me quite mad." She +laughed nervously.</p> + +<p>"Madam," he replied, with mock solemnity, "I assure you I never for a +moment doubted your sanity, and I am an expert in such matters."</p> + +<p>"Are you really?" She shrank farther from him.</p> + +<p>"Really what?" he inquired, considerably puzzled.</p> + +<p>"A—a brain specialist? That is what they are called, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>He laughed heartily.</p> + +<p>"No, indeed. But you said——"</p> + +<p>"Of course! How stupid of me!"</p> + +<p>"Why should you know that I am a soldier?"</p> + +<p>She blushed vividly. "You don't look like a civilian."</p> + +<p>"At all events I hope I don't look like the keeper of an insane asylum."</p> + +<p>"No, indeed. But you said——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, as to being an expert. Was that it? I must plead guilty to having +attempted a feeble joke, though as a matter of fact, it so happened that +I do know something about lunatics."</p> + +<p>"Aren't you dreadfully afraid of them?"</p> + +<p>"On general principles, of course, I am afraid of nothing, but I fancy a +full-grown lunatic, with a carving knife and a hankering for my blood, +would have a different tale to tell."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't speak of them!" She covered her eyes with her hands.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon."</p> + +<p>"Why should you beg my pardon?" she asked looking at him suspiciously.</p> + +<p>"I really don't know," he acknowledged.</p> + +<p>"I know that I am behaving like a hysterical schoolgirl. What must you +think of me! But,—but I am just recovering from an illness and am still +very nervous, and the mere mention of lunatics always upsets me. I have +the greatest horror of them."</p> + +<p>"Poor child, she must have been through some terrible experience with +one," thought Crichton.</p> + +<p>"I trust you may never meet any," he said aloud.</p> + +<p>"I don't intend to." She spoke with unexpected vehemence.</p> + +<p>"Well, there is not much chance of your doing so. Certified lunatics +find it pretty difficult to mingle in general society."</p> + +<p>"I know—oh, I know—" Her voice sounded almost regretful.</p> + +<p>What an extraordinary girl! Could it be—was it possible that she +herself—but no, her behaviour was certainly strange and she seemed +hysterical, but mad—no, and yet that would explain everything.</p> + +<p>"I am sure it was the horrid crossing which upset you—as much as +anything else," he said.</p> + +<p>"I didn't cross, I—" She stopped abruptly, and bit her lip.</p> + +<p>It was quite obvious that for some reason or other, she had not wished +him to know that she had got in at Newhaven. He knew that politeness +demanded he should not pursue a subject which was evidently distasteful +to her. But his curiosity overcame his scruples.</p> + +<p>"Really? It is rather unusual to take this train unless one is coming +from the continent."</p> + +<p>"Yes. One has to start so frightfully early. I had to get up a little +before five." That meant she must live in Newhaven, and not far from the +station at that—but was it true? She had about her that indescribable +something which only those possess whose social position has never been +questioned. No, Newhaven did not seem the background for her. But then, +had she not herself told him that she did not live there? She might have +gone there on an errand of charity or—After all, what business was it +of his? Why should he attempt to pry into her life? It was abominable.</p> + +<p>She settled herself in a corner of the carriage, and he fancied that she +wished to avoid further conversation. Serve him jolly well right, he +thought.</p> + +<p>During the rest of the journey his behaviour was almost ostentatiously +discreet. If she feared that he was likely to take advantage of the +situation, he was determined to show her that he had no intention of +doing so. To avoid staring at her he kept his eyes fixed on the rapidly +changing landscape; but they might have been suddenly transported to +China without his observing the difference. In fact, he had not realised +that they were nearing their destination, till he saw his companion +readjust her veil. A few minutes later the train stopped at Hearne Hill.</p> + +<p>Crichton put his head out of the window.</p> + +<p>"There is something up," he said, a moment later turning to her. "There +must be a criminal on board. There are a lot of policemen about, and +they seem to be searching the train."</p> + +<p>"Oh, what shall I do!" she cried, starting to her feet.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter?"</p> + +<p>"They will shut me up. Oh, save me—save me!"</p> + +<p>For a moment he was too startled to speak.</p> + +<p>Was it possible? This girl a criminal—a thief? He couldn't believe it.</p> + +<p>"But what have you done?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing, nothing I assure you. Oh, believe me, it is all a mistake."</p> + +<p>He looked at her again. Innocent or guilty, he would stand by her.</p> + +<p>"They will be here directly," he said. "Have you enough self-control to +remain perfectly calm and to back up any story I tell?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Sit down then, and appear to be talking to me."</p> + +<p>"Tickets, please." The guard was at the door, and behind him stood a +police inspector.</p> + +<p>Crichton having given up his ticket, turned to the girl and said: "You +have your ticket, Amy."</p> + +<p>She handed it over.</p> + +<p>"From Newhaven, I see." The inspector stepped forward:</p> + +<p>"I must ask the lady to lift 'er veil, please."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, my man? Are you drunk?</p> + +<p>"Steady, sir. Do you know this lady?"</p> + +<p>"This lady happens to be my wife, so you will kindly explain your +extraordinary behaviour."</p> + +<p>The inspector looked a little nonplussed.</p> + +<p>"Sorry to hinconvenience you, sir, but we 'ave orders to search this +train for a young lady who got in at Newhaven. Now this is the only lady +on board whose ticket was not taken in Paris. So you see we have got to +make sure that this is not the person we want."</p> + +<p>"But, man alive, I tell you this lady is my wife."</p> + +<p>"So you say, sir, but you can't prove it, can you, now? You're +registered through from Paris, and this lady gets in at Newhaven. How do +you explain that?"</p> + +<p>"Of course, one doesn't travel about with one's marriage +certificate—but as it happens, I can prove that this lady is my wife. +Here is my passport; kindly examine it. Mrs. Crichton returned to +England several months ago, and went down to Newhaven last night so as +to be able to meet me this morning. As to lifting her veil, of course +she has no objection to doing so. I thought it idle curiosity on your +part, but as it is a question of duty, that alters the case completely."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, sir." The inspector opened the passport and read aloud. +"Cyril Crichton—Lieutenant in the—Rifles, age 27 years, height 6 ft., +1 inch, weight 12 stone. Hair—fair; complexion—fair, inclined to be +ruddy. Eyes—blue. Nose—straight, rather short. Mouth—large. +Distinguishing marks: cleft in chin." And as he read each item, he +paused to compare the written description with the original.</p> + +<p>"Well, that's all right," he said. "And now for the lady's. Will you +kindly lift your veil, m'm?"</p> + +<p>To Crichton's surprise, the girl did so quite calmly, and her face, +although deadly pale, was perfectly composed.</p> + +<p>The inspector read: "Amy Crichton, wife of Cyril Crichton, age—26 +years—H'm that seems a bit old for the lady."</p> + +<p>The girl blushed vividly, but to Crichton's infinite relief she smiled +gaily, and with a slight bow to the inspector said: "You flatter me."</p> + +<p>Crichton breathed more freely. Her manner had done more to relieve the +situation than anything he had said. The inspector continued in quite a +different tone.</p> + +<p>"'Height—5 ft., 4 inches.' You look a bit shorter than that."</p> + +<p>"Measure me, if you doubt it." She challenged him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, I am sure it is all right. 'Weight—9 stone, 4 lbs.'" He +paused again, but this time made no comment, although Crichton felt sure +that his companion weighed at least ten pounds less than the amount +mentioned. "Hair—black. Complexion—fair. Eyes—blue. Nose—straight. +Mouth—small. Oval chin. Distinguishing marks—none. All right, m'm! +Sorry to 'ave disturbed you, but you understand we 'ave got to be very +careful. We'd never 'ear the last of it if we let the party we're after +slip through our fingers."</p> + +<p>"What is the woman you are looking for accused of?" asked Crichton.</p> + +<p>"Murder," replied the inspector, as he closed the door.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>"MRS. PETER THOMPKINS"</h3> + + +<p>"Murder!"</p> + +<p>Crichton looked at the girl. Her eyes were closed and she lay back +breathing heavily. He did not know if she had even heard the accusation. +Luckily the train was already moving. In a few minutes, however, they +would be in London and then what should he do with her? Now that he had +declared her to be his wife, it would arouse the suspicion of the police +if he parted from her at the station. Besides, he could not desert the +poor child in her terrible predicament. For she was innocent, he was +sure of that. But here he was wasting precious time worrying about the +future, when he ought to be doing something to revive her. It was simply +imperative that she should be able to leave the train without exciting +remark, as, once outside the station, the immediate danger would be +over. His ministrations, however, were quite ineffectual, and, to his +dismay, the train came to a standstill before she showed a sign of +returning consciousness.</p> + +<p>A porter opened the door.</p> + +<p>"Bring a glass of water; the lady has fainted," he ordered. The porter +returned in a few minutes followed by the police inspector. Crichton's +heart sank. He fancied the latter eyed them with reawakened suspicion. +As he knelt by the girl's side, her head on his shoulder, his arms +around her, he suddenly became aware that a number of people had +collected near the door and were watching the scene with unconcealed +interest And among them stood Peter, his valet, staring at him with +open-mouthed amazement.</p> + +<p>Damn! He had completely forgotten him. If he didn't look out, the fellow +would be sure to give the situation away.</p> + +<p>"Peter," he called.</p> + +<p>Peter elbowed his way through the crowd.</p> + +<p>"Your mistress has fainted. Get my flask." Crichton spoke slowly and +distinctly and looked Peter commandingly in the eye. Would he +understand? Would he hold his tongue? Crichton watched him breathlessly. +For a moment Peter blinked at him uncomprehendingly. Then the surprise +slowly faded from his face, leaving it as stolid as usual.</p> + +<p>"Very well, sir," was all he said as he went off automatically to do his +master's bidding. An order has a wonderfully steadying effect on a +well-trained servant.</p> + +<p>The brandy having been brought, Crichton tried to force a few drops of +it between the girl's clenched teeth. After a few minutes, however, he +had to abandon the attempt.</p> + +<p>The situation was desperate.</p> + +<p>The inspector stepped forward.</p> + +<p>"Don't you think, sir, you ought to send for a doctor? The lady looks +bad and she can't stay here, you know. The train has to be backed out in +a few minutes. We'll carry her to the waiting-room if you wish, or come +to think of it, hadn't you better call an ambulance? Then you could take +the lady home and the doctor who comes with them things would know what +to do for her."</p> + +<p>Crichton almost gasped with relief.</p> + +<p>"An ambulance! The very thing. Get one immediately!"</p> + +<p>The last passenger was just leaving the station when the ambulance +clattered up.</p> + +<p>The doctor, although hardly more than a boy, seemed to know his +business, and after examining the girl and asking a few questions, he +proceeded to administer various remedies, which he took out of a bag he +carried.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid this case is too serious for me," he said at last.</p> + +<p>"What is the trouble?"</p> + +<p>"Of course, I can't speak with any certainty, but from what you tell me, +I think the lady is in for an attack of brain fever."</p> + +<p>Crichton felt <i>his</i> brain reel.</p> + +<p>"What shall I do?"</p> + +<p>"We will take her home and in the meantime telephone to whatever doctor +you wish to have called, so that he can see the patient as soon as +possible."</p> + +<p>"I have no house in town. I was going into lodgings but I can't take an +invalid there."</p> + +<p>"Of course not! What do you say to taking her at once to a nursing +home?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that would be best. Which one would you recommend? I am ignorant +of such matters."</p> + +<p>"Well—Dr. Stuart-Smith has one not far from here. You know him by +reputation, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly. All right, take her there."</p> + +<p>"I had better telephone and prepare them for our arrival. What is the +lady's name, please?"</p> + +<p>The inspector's eyes were upon him; Peter was at his elbow. Well—there +was no help for it.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Cyril Crichton," he said.</p> + +<p>The doctor returned in a few minutes.</p> + +<p>"It is all right. They have got a room and Doctor Smith will be there +almost as soon as we are."</p> + +<p>Having lifted her into the ambulance, the doctor turned to Cyril and +said: "I suppose you prefer to accompany Mrs. Crichton. You can get in, +in front."</p> + +<p>Crichton meekly obeyed.</p> + +<p>"Take my things to the lodgings and wait for me there, and by the way, +be sure to telephone at once to Mr. Campbell and tell him I must see him +immediately," he called to Peter as they drove off.</p> + +<p>They had apparently got rid of the police—that was something at all +events. His own position, however, caused him the gravest concern. It +was not only compromising but supremely ridiculous. He must extricate +himself from it at once. His only chance, he decided, lay in confiding +the truth to Dr. Smith. Great physicians have necessarily an enormous +knowledge of life and therefore he would be better able than any other +man to understand the situation and advise him as to what should be +done. At all events the etiquette of his calling would prevent a doctor +from divulging a professional secret, even in the case of his failing to +sympathise with his, Cyril's, knight-errantry. Crichton heaved a sigh of +satisfaction. His troubles, he foresaw, would soon be over.</p> + +<p>The ambulance stopped. The girl was carried into the house and taken +possession of by an efficient-looking nurse, and Cyril was requested to +wait in the reception-room while she was being put to bed. Dr. Smith, he +was told, would communicate with him as soon as he had examined the +patient.</p> + +<p>Crichton paced the room in feverish impatience. His doubts revived. What +if the doctor should refuse to keep her? Again and again he rehearsed +what he intended to say to him, but the oftener he did so, the more +incredible did his story appear. It also occurred to him that a +physician might not feel himself bound to secrecy when it was a question +of concealing facts other than those relating to a patient's physical +condition. What if the doctor should consider it his duty to inform the +police of her whereabouts?</p> + +<p>At last the door opened. Dr. Smith proved to be a short, grey-haired man +with piercing, black eyes under beetling, black brows, large nose, and a +long upper lip. Cyril's heart sank. The doctor did not look as if he +would be likely to sympathise with his adventure.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Crichton, I believe." The little man spoke quite fiercely and +regarded our friend with evident disfavour.</p> + +<p>Crichton was for a moment nonplussed. What had he done to be addressed +in such a fashion?</p> + +<p>"I hope you can give me good news of the patient?" he said, disregarding +the other's manner.</p> + +<p>"No," snapped out the doctor. "Mrs. Crichton is very seriously, not to +say dangerously, ill."</p> + +<p>What an extraordinary way of announcing a wife's illness to a supposed +husband! Was every one mad to-day?</p> + +<p>"I am awfully sorry—" began Crichton.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you are, are you?" interrupted the doctor, and this time there +could be no doubt he was intentionally insulting. "Will you then be kind +enough to explain how your wife happens to be in the condition she is?"</p> + +<p>"What condition?" faltered Cyril.</p> + +<p>"Tut, man, don't pretend to be ignorant. Remember I am a doctor and can +testify to the facts; yes, facts," he almost shouted.</p> + +<p>Poor Crichton sat down abruptly. He really felt he could bear no more.</p> + +<p>"For God's sake, doctor, tell me what is the matter with her. I swear I +haven't the faintest idea."</p> + +<p>His distress was so evidently genuine that the doctor relaxed a little +and looked at him searchingly for a moment.</p> + +<p>"Your wife has been recently flogged!"</p> + +<p>"Flogged! How awful! But I can't believe it."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!"</p> + +<p>"Certainly not. You must be mistaken. The bruises may be the result of a +fall."</p> + +<p>"They are not," snapped the doctor.</p> + +<p>"Flogged! here in England, in the twentieth century! But who could have +done such a thing?"</p> + +<p>"That is for you to explain, and I must warn you that unless your +explanation is unexpectedly satisfactory, I shall at once notify the +police."</p> + +<p>Police! Crichton wiped beads of perspiration from his forehead.</p> + +<p>"But, doctor, I know no more about it than you do."</p> + +<p>"So you think that it will be sufficient for you to deny all knowledge +as to how, where, and by whom a woman who is your wife—yes, sir—your +wife, has been maltreated? Man, do you take me for a fool?"</p> + +<p>What should he do? Was this the moment to tell him the truth? No, it +would be useless. The doctor, believing him to be a brute, was not in a +frame of mind to attach credence to his story. The truth was too +improbable, a convincing lie could alone save the situation.</p> + +<p>"My wife and I have not been living together lately," he stammered.</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" The piercing eyes seemed to grow more piercing, the long upper +lip to become longer.</p> + +<p>"Yes," Crichton hesitated—it is so difficult to invent a plausible +story on the spur of the moment. "In fact, I met her quite unexpectedly +in Newhaven."</p> + +<p>"In Newhaven?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I have just arrived from France," continued Crichton more +fluently. An idea was shaping itself in his mind. "I was most astonished +to meet my wife in England as I had been looking for her in Paris for +the last week."</p> + +<p>"I don't understand."</p> + +<p>"My wife is unfortunately mentally unbalanced. For the last few months +she has been confined in an asylum." Crichton spoke with increasing +assurance.</p> + +<p>"Where was this asylum?"</p> + +<p>"In France."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but where? France is a big place."</p> + +<p>"It is called Charleroi and is about thirty miles from Paris in the +direction of Fontainebleau."</p> + +<p>"Who is the director of this institution?"</p> + +<p>"Dr. Leon Monet."</p> + +<p>"And you suggest that it was there that she was ill-treated. Let me tell +you——"</p> + +<p>Cyril interrupted him.</p> + +<p>"I suggest no such thing. My wife escaped from Charleroi over a week +ago. We know she went to Paris, but there we lost all trace of her. +Imagine my astonishment at finding her on the train this morning. How +she got there, I can't think. She seemed very much agitated, but I +attributed that to my presence. I have lately had a most unfortunate +effect upon her. I did ask her how she got the bruise on her cheek, but +she wouldn't tell me. I had no idea she was suffering. If I had been +guilty of the condition she is in, is it likely that I should have +brought her to a man of your reputation and character? I think that +alone proves my innocence."</p> + +<p>The doctor stared at him fixedly for a few moments as if weighing the +credibility of his explanation.</p> + +<p>"You say that the physician under whose care your wife has been is +called Monet?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Leon Monet."</p> + +<p>The doctor left the room abruptly. When he returned, his bearing had +completely changed.</p> + +<p>"I have just verified your statement in a French medical directory and I +must apologise to you for having jumped at conclusions in the way I did. +Pray, forgive me——"</p> + +<p>Crichton bowed rather distantly. He didn't feel over-kindly to the man +who had forced him into such a quagmire of lies.</p> + +<p>"Now as to—" Cyril hesitated a moment; he detested calling the girl by +his name. "Now—as to—to—the patient. Have you any idea when she is +likely to recover consciousness?"</p> + +<p>"Not the faintest. Of course, what you tell me of her mental condition +increases the seriousness of the case. With hysterical cases anything +and everything is possible."</p> + +<p>"But you do not fear the—worst."</p> + +<p>"Certainly not. She is young. She will receive the best of care. I see +no reason why she should not recover. Now if you would like to remain +near her——"</p> + +<p>There seemed a conspiracy to keep him forever at the girl's side, but +this time he meant to break away even if he had to fight for it.</p> + +<p>"I shall, of course, remain near her," Cyril interrupted hastily. "I +have taken lodgings in Half Moon Street and shall stay there till she +has completely recovered. As she has lately shown the most violent +dislike of me, I think I had better not attempt to see her for the +present. Don't you agree with me?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly. I should not permit it under the circumstances."</p> + +<p>"I shall call daily to find out how she is, and if there is any change +in her condition, you will, of course, notify me at once." Crichton took +out a card and scribbled his address on it. "This will always find me. +And now I have a rather delicate request to make. Would you mind not +letting any one know the identity of your patient? You see I have every +hope that she will eventually recover her reason and therefore I wish +her malady to be kept a secret. I have told my friends that my wife is +in the south of France undergoing a species of rest cure."</p> + +<p>"I think you are very wise. I shall not mention her name to any one."</p> + +<p>"But the nurses?"</p> + +<p>"It is a rule of all nursing homes that a patient's name is never to be +mentioned to an outsider. But if you wish to take extra precautions, you +might give her another name while she is here and they need never know +that it is not her own."</p> + +<p>"Thank you. That is just what I should wish."</p> + +<p>"What do you think Mrs. Crichton had better be called?"</p> + +<p>Cyril thought a moment.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Peter Thompkins, and I will become Mr. Thompkins. Please address +all communications to me under that name; otherwise the truth is sure to +leak out."</p> + +<p>"But how will you arrange to get your mail?"</p> + +<p>"Peter Thompkins is my valet, so that is quite simple."</p> + +<p>"Very well. Good-bye, Mr. Thompkins. I trust I shall soon have a better +report to give you of Mrs. Thompkins."</p> + +<p>A moment later Cyril was in a taxi speeding towards Mayfair, a free +man—for the moment.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>THE TRIBULATIONS OF A LIAR</h3> + + +<p>While Crichton was dressing he glanced from time to time at his valet. +Peter had evidently been deeply shocked by the incident at the railway +station, for the blunt profile, so persistently presented to him, was +austerely remote as well as subtly disapproving. Cyril was fond of the +old man, who had been his father's servant and had known him almost from +his infancy. He felt that he owed him some explanation, particularly as +he had without consulting him made use of his name.</p> + +<p>But what should he say to him? Never before had he so fully realised the +joy, the comfort, the dignity of truth. It was not a virtue he decided; +it was a privilege. If he ever got out of the hole he was in, he meant +to wallow in it for the future. That happy time seemed, however, still +far distant.</p> + +<p>Believing the girl to be innocent, he wanted as few people as possible +to know the nature of the cloud which hung over her. Peter's loyalty, he +knew, he could count on, that had been often and fully proved; but his +discretion was another matter. Peter was no actor. If he had anything to +conceal, even his silence became so portentous of mystery that it could +not fail to arouse the curiosity of the most unsuspicious. No, he must +think of some simple story which would satisfy Peter as to the propriety +of his conduct and yet which, if it leaked out, would not be to the +girl's discredit.</p> + +<p>"You must have been surprised to hear me give my name to the young lady +you saw at the station," he began tentatively.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir." Peter's expression relaxed.</p> + +<p>"Her story is a very sad one." So much at any rate must be true, thought +poor Cyril with some satisfaction.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir." Peter was waiting breathlessly for the sequel.</p> + +<p>"I don't feel at liberty to repeat what she told me. You understand +that, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly, sir," agreed Peter, but his face fell.</p> + +<p>"So all I can tell you is that she was escaping from a brute who +horribly ill-treated her. Of course I offered to help her."</p> + +<p>"Of course," echoed Peter.</p> + +<p>"Unfortunately she was taken ill before she had told me her name or who +the friends were with whom she was seeking refuge. What was I to do? If +the police heard that a young girl had been found unconscious on the +train, the fact would have been advertised far and wide so as to enable +them to establish her identity, in which case the person from whom she +was hiding would have taken possession of her, which he has a legal +right to do—so she gave me to understand." Crichton paused quite out of +breath. He was doing beautifully. Peter was swallowing his tale +unquestionably—and really, you know, for an inexperienced liar that was +a reasonably probable story. "So you see," he continued, "it was +necessary for her to have a name and mine was the only one which would +not provoke further inquiry."</p> + +<p>"Begging your pardon, sir, but I should 'ave thought that Smith or Jones +would 'ave done just as well."</p> + +<p>"Certainly not. The authorities would have wanted further particulars +and would at once have detected the fraud. No one will ever know that I +lent an unfortunate woman for a few hours the protection of my name, and +there is no one who has the right to object to my having done so—except +the young lady herself."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, quite so."</p> + +<p>"On the other hand, on account of the position I am in at present, it is +most important that I should do nothing which could by any possibility +be misconstrued."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, certainly, sir."</p> + +<p>"And so I told the doctor that the young lady had better not be called +by my name while she is at the home and so—and so—well—in fact—I +gave her yours. I hope you don't mind?"</p> + +<p>"My name?" gasped Peter in a horrified voice.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you see you haven't got a wife, have you?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly not, sir!"</p> + +<p>"So there couldn't be any possible complications in your case."</p> + +<p>"One never can tell, sir—a name's a name and females are sometimes not +over-particular."</p> + +<p>"Don't be an ass! Why, you ought to feel proud to be able to be of use +to a charming lady. Where's your chivalry, Peter?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know, sir, but I do 'ope she's respectable," he answered +miserably.</p> + +<p>"Of course she is. Don't you know a lady when you see one?"</p> + +<p>Peter shook his head tragically.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry you feel like that about it," said Crichton. "It never +occurred to me you would mind, and I haven't yet told you all. I not +only gave the young lady your name but took it myself."</p> + +<p>"Took my name!"</p> + +<p>"Yes. At the nursing home I am known as Mr. Peter Thompkins. Pray that I +don't disgrace you, Peter."</p> + +<p>"Oh, sir, a false name! If you get found out, they'll never believe you +are hinnocent when you've done a thing like that. Of course, a gentleman +like you hought to know his own business best, but it do seem to me most +awful risky."</p> + +<p>"Well, it's a risk that had to be taken. It was a choice of evils, I +grant you. Hah! I sniff breakfast; the bacon and eggs of my country +await me. I am famishing, and I say, Peter, do try to take a more +cheerful view of this business."</p> + +<p>"I'll try, sir."</p> + +<p>Crichton was still at breakfast when a short, red-haired young man +fairly burst into the room.</p> + +<p>"Guy Campbell!" exclaimed Cyril joyfully.</p> + +<p>"Hullo, old chap, glad to see you," cried the newcomer, pounding Cyril +affectionately on the back. "How goes it? I say, your telephone message +gave me quite a turn. What's up? Have you got into a scrape? You look as +calm as possible."</p> + +<p>"If I look calm, my looks belie me. I assure you I never felt less calm +in my life."</p> + +<p>"What on earth is the matter?"</p> + +<p>"You won't have some breakfast?"</p> + +<p>"Breakfast at half-past eleven! No thank you."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, take a cigarette, pull up that chair to the fire, and +listen—and don't play the fool; this is serious."</p> + +<p>"Fire away."</p> + +<p>"I want your legal advice, Guy, though I suppose you'll tell me I need a +solicitor, not a barrister. I wish to get a divorce."</p> + +<p>"A divorce? Why, Cyril, I am awfully sorry. I had heard that your +marriage hadn't turned out any too well, but I had no idea it was as bad +as that. You have proof, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"Ample."</p> + +<p>"Tell me the particulars. I never have heard anything against your +wife's character."</p> + +<p>"You mean that you have never heard that she was unfaithful to me. Bah, +it makes me sick the way people talk, as if infidelity were the only +vice that damned a woman's character. Guy, her character was rotten +through and through. Her infidelity was simply a minor, though +culminating, expression of it."</p> + +<p>"But how did you come to marry such a person?"</p> + +<p>"You know she was the Chalmerses' governess?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"I had been spending a few weeks with them. Jack, the oldest son, was a +friend of mine and she was the daughter of a brother officer of old +Chalmers's who had died in India, and consequently her position in the +household was different from that of an ordinary governess. I soon got +quite friendly with Amy and her two charges, and we used to rag about +together a good deal. I liked her, but upon my honour I hadn't a thought +of making love to her. Then one day there was an awful row. They accused +her of carrying on a clandestine love affair with Freddy, the second +son, and with drinking on the sly. They had found empty bottles hidden +in her bedroom. She posed as injured innocence—the victim of a vile +plot to get her out of the house—had no money, no friends, no hope of +another situation. I was young; she was pretty. I was dreadfully sorry +for her and so—well, I married her. As the regiment had just been +ordered to South Africa, we went there immediately. We had not been +married a year, however, when I discovered that she was a confirmed +drunkard. I think only the fear of losing her position had kept her +within certain bounds. That necessity removed, she seemed unable to put +any restraint on herself. I doubt if she even tried to do so."</p> + +<p>"Poor Cyril!"</p> + +<p>"Later on I found out that she was taking drugs as well as stimulants. +She would drink herself into a frenzy and then stupefy herself with +opiates. But it is not only weakness I am accusing her of. She was +inherently deceitful and cruel—ah, what is the use of talking about it! +I have been through Hell."</p> + +<p>"You haven't been living together lately, have you?"</p> + +<p>"Well, you see, she was disgracing not only herself but the regiment, +and so it became a question of either leaving the army or getting her to +live somewhere else. So I brought her back to Europe, took a small villa +near Pau, and engaged an efficient nurse-companion to look after her. I +spent my leave with her, but that was all. Last spring, however, she got +so bad that her companion cabled for me. For a few weeks she was +desperately ill, and when she partially recovered, the doctor persuaded +me to send her to a sanitarium for treatment. Charleroi was recommended +to me. It was chiefly celebrated as a lunatic asylum, but it has an +annex where dipsomaniacs and drug fiends are cared for. At first, the +doctor's reports were very discouraging, but lately her improvement is +said to have been quite astonishing, so much so that it was decided that +I should take her away for a little trip. I was on my way to Charleroi, +when the news reached me that Amy had escaped. We soon discovered that +she had fled with a M. de Brissac, who had been discharged as cured the +day before my wife's disappearance. We traced them to within a few miles +of Paris, but there lost track of them. I have, however, engaged a +detective to furnish me with further particulars. I fancy the Frenchman +is keeping out of the way for fear I shall kill him. Bah! Why, I pity +him, that is all! He'll soon find out what that woman is like. He has +given me freedom! Oh, you can't realise what that means to me. I only +wish my father were alive to know that I have this chance of beginning +life over again."</p> + +<p>"I was so sorry to hear of his death. He was always so kind to us boys +when we stayed at Lingwood. I wrote you when I heard the sad news, but +you never answered any of my letters."</p> + +<p>"I know, old chap, but you must forgive me. I have been too +miserable—too ashamed. I only wanted to creep away and to be +forgotten."</p> + +<p>"Your father died in Paris, didn't he?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, luckily I was with him. It was just after I had taken Amy to +Charleroi. He was a broken-hearted man. He never got over the mess I had +made of my life and Wilmersley's marriage was the last straw. He brooded +over it continually."</p> + +<p>"Why had your father been so sure that Lord Wilmersley would never +marry? He was an old bachelor, but not so very old after all. He can't +be more than fifty now."</p> + +<p>"Well, you see, Wilmersley has a bee in his bonnet. His mother was a +Spanish ballet dancer whom my uncle married when he was a mere boy. She +was a dreadful old creature. I remember her distinctly, a great, fat +woman with a big, white face and enormous, glassy, black eyes. I was +awfully afraid of her. She died when Wilmersley was about twenty and my +uncle followed her a few months later. His funeral was hardly over when +my cousin left Geralton and nothing definite was heard of him for almost +twenty-five years. He was supposed to be travelling in the far East, and +from time to time some pretty queer rumours drifted back about him. +Whether they were true or not, I have never known. One day he returned +to Geralton as unexpectedly as he had left it. He sent for me at once. +He has immense family pride—the ballet dancer, I fancy, rankles—and +having decided for some reason or other not to marry, he wished his heir +to cut a dash. He offered me an allowance of £4000 a year, told me to +marry as soon as possible, and sent me home."</p> + +<p>"Well, that was pretty decent of him. You don't seem very grateful."</p> + +<p>"I can't bear him. He's a most repulsive-looking chap, a thorough +Spaniard, with no trace of his father's blood that I can see. And as I +married soon afterwards and my marriage was not to his liking, he +stopped my allowance and swore I should never succeed him if he could +help it. So you see I haven't much reason to be grateful to him."</p> + +<p>"Beastly shame! He married Miss Mannering, Lady Upton's granddaughter, +didn't he?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"She is a little queer, I believe."</p> + +<p>"Really? I didn't know that. I have never seen her, but I hear she is +very pretty. Well, I'm sorry for her, brought up by that old curmudgeon +of a grandmother and married out of the schoolroom to Wilmersley. She +has never had much of a chance, has she?"</p> + +<p>"There are no children as yet?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"So that now that your father is dead, you are the immediate heir."</p> + +<p>The door was flung open and Peter rushed into the room brandishing a +paper.</p> + +<p>"Oh, sir, it's come at last! I always felt it would!" He stuttered with +excitement.</p> + +<p>"What on earth is the matter with you?"</p> + +<p>"I beg pardon, sir, but I am that hovercome! I heard them crying +'hextras,' so I went out and gets one—just casual-like. Little did I +think what would be in it—and there it was."</p> + +<p>"There was what?" Both men spoke at once, leaning eagerly forward.</p> + +<p>"That Lord Wilmersley is dead; and so, my lord, I wish you much joy and +a long life."</p> + +<p>"This is very sudden," gasped Crichton. "I hadn't heard he was ill. What +did he die of?"</p> + +<p>"'E was murdered, my lord."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>ON THE SCENE OF THE TRAGEDY</h3> + + +<p>"When, how, who did it?" cried Cyril incoherently. "Give me the paper."</p> + +<p>"Murder of Lord Wilmersley—disappearance of Lady Wilmersley," he read. +"Disappearance of Lady Wilmersley," he repeated, as the paper fell from +his limp hand.</p> + +<p>"Here, get your master some whiskey; the shock has been too much for +him," said Camp bell. "Mysterious disappearance of Lady Wilmersley," +murmured Crichton, staring blankly in front of him.</p> + +<p>"Here, drink this, old man; you'll be all right in a moment," said +Campbell, pressing a glass into his hand.</p> + +<p>Cyril emptied it automatically.</p> + +<p>"The deuce take it!" he cried, covering his face with his hands.</p> + +<p>"Shall I read you the particulars?" Campbell asked, taking the paper. +Cyril nodded assent.</p> + +<p>"'The body of Lord Wilmersley was found at seven o'clock this morning +floating in the swimming bath at Geralton. It was at first thought that +death had been caused by drowning, but on examination, a bullet wound +was discovered over the heart. Search for the pistol with which the +crime was committed has so far proved fruitless. The corpse was dressed +in a long, Eastern garment frequently worn by the deceased. Lady +Wilmersley's bedroom, which adjoins the swimming bath, was empty. The +bed had not been slept in. A hurried search of the castle and grounds +was at once made, but no trace of her ladyship has been discovered. It +is feared that she also has been murdered and her body thrown into the +lake, which is only a short distance from the castle. None of her +wearing apparel is missing, even the dress and slippers she wore on the +previous evening were found in a corner of her room. Robbery was +probably the motive of the crime, as a small safe, which stands next to +Lady Wilmersley's bed and contained her jewels, has been rifled. Whoever +did this must, however, have known the combination, as the lock has not +been tampered with. This adds to the mystery of the case. Lady +Wilmersley is said to be mentally unbalanced. Arthur Edward Crichton, +9th Baron Wilmersley, was born—' here follows a history of your family, +Cyril, you don't want to hear that. Well, what do you think of it?" +asked Campbell.</p> + +<p>"It's too horrible! I can't think," said Crichton.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe Lady Wilmersley was murdered," said Campbell. "Why +should a murderer have troubled to remove one body and not the other? +Mark my words, it was his wife who killed Wilmersley and opened the +safe."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe it! I won't believe it!" cried Cyril. "Besides, how +could she have got away without a dress or hat? Remember they make a +point of the fact that none of her clothes are missing."</p> + +<p>"In the first place, you can't believe everything you read in a +newspaper; but even granting the correctness of that statement, what was +there to prevent her having borrowed a dress from one of her maids? She +must have had one, you know."</p> + +<p>"No—no! It can't be, I tell you; I—" Cyril stopped abruptly.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with you? You look as guilty as though you had killed +him yourself. I can't for the life of me see why you take the thing so +terribly to heart. You didn't like your cousin and from what you +yourself tell me, I fancy he is no great loss to any one, and you don't +know his wife—widow, I mean."</p> + +<p>"It is such a shock," stammered Cyril.</p> + +<p>"Of course it's a shock, but you ought to think of your new duties. You +will have to go to Geralton at once?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I suppose it will be expected of me," Cyril assented gloomily. +"Peter, pack my things and find out when the next train leaves."</p> + +<p>"Very well, my lord."</p> + +<p>"And Guy, you will come with me, won't you? I really can't face this +business alone. Besides, your legal knowledge may come in useful."</p> + +<p>"I am awfully sorry, but I really can't come to-day. I've got to be in +court this afternoon; but I'll come as soon as I can, if you really want +me."</p> + +<p>"Do!"</p> + +<p>"Of course I want to be of use if I can, but a detective is really what +you need."</p> + +<p>"A detective?" gasped Cyril.</p> + +<p>"Well, why not? Don't look as if I had suggested your hiring a camel!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course not—I mean a detective is—would be—in fact—very +useful," stammered Cyril. Why couldn't Guy mind his own business?</p> + +<p>"Why not get one and take him down with you?" persisted Campbell.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!" Cyril hurriedly objected, "I don't think I had better do that. +They may have one already. Shouldn't like to begin by hurting local +feeling and—and all that, you know."</p> + +<p>"Rot!"</p> + +<p>"At any rate, I'm not going to engage any one till I've looked into the +matter myself," said Cyril. "If I find I need a man, I'll wire."</p> + +<p>Campbell, grumbling about unnecessary delay, let the matter drop.</p> + +<p>Two hours later Cyril was speeding towards Newhaven.</p> + +<p>Huddled in a corner of the railway carriage, he gave himself up to the +gloomiest reflections. Was ever any one pursued by such persistent +ill-luck? It seemed too hard that just as he began to see an end to his +matrimonial troubles, he should have tumbled headlong into this terrible +predicament. From the moment he heard of Lady Wilmersley's disappearance +he had never had the shadow of a doubt but that it was she he had +rescued that morning from the police. What was he going to do, now that +he knew her identity? He must decide on a course of action at once. Wash +his hands of her? No-o. He felt he couldn't do that—at least, not yet. +But unless he immediately and voluntarily confessed the truth, who would +believe him if it ever came to light? If it were discovered that he, the +heir, had helped his cousin's murderess to escape—had posed as her +husband, would any one, would any jury believe that chance alone had +thrown them together? He might prove an alibi, but that would only save +his life—not his honour. He would always be suspected of having +instigated, if not actually committed, the murder.</p> + +<p>If, however, by some miracle the truth did not leak out, what then? It +would mean that from this day forward he would live in constant fear of +detection. The very fact of her secret existence must necessarily poison +his whole life. Lies, lies, lies would be his future portion. Was he +willing to assume such a burden? Was it his duty to take upon himself +the charge of a woman who was after all but a homicidal maniac? But was +she a maniac? Again and again he went over each incident of their +meeting, weighed her every word and action, and again he found it +impossible to believe that her mind was unbalanced. Yet if she was not +insane, what excuse could he find to explain her crime? Provocation? +Yes, she had had that. She had been beaten, flogged. But even so, to +kill! He had once been present when a murderer was sentenced: "To hang +by the neck until you are dead," the words rang in his ears. That small +white neck—no—never. Suddenly he realised that his path was +irrevocably chosen. As long as she needed him, he would protect her to +the uttermost of his ability. Even if his efforts proved futile, even if +he ruined his life without saving hers, he felt he would never regret +his decision.</p> + +<p>"Newhaven."</p> + +<p>It seemed centuries since he had left it that morning. Hiring a fly, he +drove out to Geralton, a distance of nine miles. There the door was +opened by the same butler who had admitted him five years previously. +"It's Mr. Cyril!" he cried, falling back a step. "Why, sir, they all +told us as 'ow you were in South Africa. But I bid you welcome, sir."</p> + +<p>"Thank you. I am glad to see you again."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, sir,—my lord, I mean, and please forgive your being +received like this—but every one is so upset, there's no doing nothing +with nobody. If you will step in 'ere, I'll call Mrs. Eversley, the +'ousekeeper."</p> + +<p>"Is Mrs. Eversley still here? I remember her perfectly. She used to +stuff me with doughnuts when I came here as a boy. Tell her I will see +her presently."</p> + +<p>"Very good, my lord."</p> + +<p>"Now I want to hear all the particulars of the tragedy. The newspaper +account was very meagre."</p> + +<p>"Quite so, my lord," assented the butler.</p> + +<p>"Lady Wilmersley has not been found?" asked Cyril.</p> + +<p>"No, my lord. We've searched for her ladyship 'igh and low. Not a trace +of her. And now every one says as 'ow she did it. But I'll never believe +it—never. A gentle little lady, she was, and so easily frightened! Why, +if my lord so much as looked at her sometimes, she'd fall a trembling, +and 'e always so kind and devoted to 'er. 'E just doted on 'er, 'e did. +I never saw nothing like it."</p> + +<p>"If you don't believe her ladyship guilty, is there any one else you do +suspect?"</p> + +<p>"No, my lord, I can't say as I do." He spoke regretfully. "It was a +burglar, I believe. I think the detective——"</p> + +<p>"What detective?" interrupted Cyril.</p> + +<p>"His name is Judson; 'e comes from London and they say as 'e can find a +murderer just by looking at the chair 'e sat in."</p> + +<p>"Who sent for him? The police?"</p> + +<p>"No, it was Mr. Twombley of Crofton. He said we owed it to 'er ladyship +to hemploy the best talent."</p> + +<p>"Where is the detective now?"</p> + +<p>"'E's in the long drawing-room with Mr. Twombley."</p> + +<p>"Has the inquest been held?"</p> + +<p>"No, the corpse won't be sat on till to-morrow morning."</p> + +<p>"Show me the way to the drawing-room. I don't quite remember it."</p> + +<p>The butler preceded him across the hall and throwing open a door +announced in a loud voice:</p> + +<p>"Lord Wilmersley."</p> + +<p>The effect was electrical. Four men who had been deep in conversation +turned and stared open-mouthed at Cyril, and one of them, a short fat +man in clerical dress, dropped his teacup in his agitation.</p> + +<p>"Who?" bellowed a tall, florid old gentleman.</p> + +<p>The butler, secretly delighted at having produced such a sensation, +closed the door discreetly after him.</p> + +<p>"I don't wonder you are surprised to see me. You thought I was with my +regiment."</p> + +<p>"So you're the little shaver I knew as a boy? Well, you've grown a bit +since then. Hah, hah." Then, recollecting the solemnity of the occasion, +he subdued his voice. "I'm Twombley, friend of your father's, you know, +and this is Mr. James, your vicar, and this is Mr. Tinker, the coroner, +and this is Judson, celebrated detective, you know. I sent for him. Hope +you approve? Terrible business, what?"</p> + +<p>"It has been a great shock to me, and I am very glad to have Judson's +assistance," replied Cyril, casting a searching and apprehensive glance +at the detective.</p> + +<p>He was a small, clean-shaven man with short, grey hair, grey eyebrows, +grey complexion, dressed in a grey tweed suit. His features were +peculiarly indefinite. His half-closed eyes, lying in the shadow of the +overhanging brows, were fringed with light eyelashes and gave no accent +to his expressionless face.</p> + +<p>At all events, thought Cyril, he doesn't look very alarming, but then, +you never can tell.</p> + +<p>"I must condole with you on the unexpected loss of a relative, who was +in every way an honour to his name and his position," said the vicar, +holding out a podgy hand.</p> + +<p>Cyril was so taken aback at this unexpected tribute to his cousin's +memory that he was only able to murmur a discreet "Thank you."</p> + +<p>"The late Lord Wilmersley," said the coroner, "was a most +public-spirited man and is a loss to the county."</p> + +<p>"Quite so, quite so," assented Mr. Twombley. "Gave a good bit to the +hunt, though he never hunted. Pretty decent of him, you know. You hunt, +of course?"</p> + +<p>"I haven't done much of it lately, but I shall certainly do so in +future."</p> + +<p>"Your cousin," interrupted the vicar, "was a man of deep religious +convictions. His long stay in heathen lands had only strengthened his +devotion to the true faith. His pew was never empty and he subscribed +liberally to many charities."</p> + +<p>By Jove, thought poor Cyril, his cousin had evidently been a paragon. It +seemed incredible.</p> + +<p>"I see it will be difficult to fill his place," he said aloud. "But I +will do my best."</p> + +<p>Twombley clapped him heartily on the back. "Oh, you'll do all right, my +boy, and then, you know, you'll open the castle. The place has been like +a prison since Wilmersley's marriage."</p> + +<p>"No one regretted that as much as Lord Wilmersley," said the vicar. "He +often spoke to me about it. But he had the choice between placing Lady +Wilmersley in an institution or turning the castle into an asylum. He +chose the latter alternative, although it was a great sacrifice. I have +rarely known so agreeable a man or one so suited to shine in any +company. It was unpardonable of Lady Upton to have allowed him to marry +without warning him of her granddaughter's condition. But he never had a +word of blame for her."</p> + +<p>"It was certainly a pity he did not have Lady Wilmersley put under +proper restraint. If he had only done so, he would be alive now," said +the coroner.</p> + +<p>"So you believe that she murdered his lordship?"</p> + +<p>"Undoubtedly. Who else could have done it? Who else had a motive for +doing it. My theory is that her ladyship wanted to escape, that his +lordship tried to prevent her, and so she shot him. Don't you agree with +me, Mr. Judson?"</p> + +<p>"It is impossible for me to express an opinion at present. I have not +had time to collect enough data," replied the detective pompously.</p> + +<p>"He puts on such a lot of side, I believe he's an ass," thought Cyril, +heaving a sigh of relief. "But what about the missing jewels?" he said +aloud. "Their disappearance certainly provides a motive for the crime?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but only Lord and Lady Wilmersley knew the combination of the +safe."</p> + +<p>"Who says so?"</p> + +<p>"All the servants are agreed as to that. Besides, a burglar would hardly +have overlooked the drawers of Lord Wilmersley's desk, which contained +about £300 in notes."</p> + +<p>"The thief may not have got as far as the library. Lady Wilmersley +occupied the blue room, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"Not at all. At the time of his marriage Lord Wilmersley ordered a suite +of rooms on the ground floor prepared for his bride's reception," +replied the vicar.</p> + +<p>"And this swimming-bath? Where is that? There was none when I was here +as a child."</p> + +<p>"No, it was built for Lady Wilmersley and adjoins her private +apartments," said the vicar.</p> + +<p>"But all these rooms are on the ground floor. It must be an easy matter +to enter them. Consequently——"</p> + +<p>"Easy!" interrupted Twombley; "not a bit of it! But come and see for +yourself."</p> + +<p>Crossing the hall they paused at a door. "Now this door and that one +next to it, which is the door of Lady Wilmersley's bedroom," said the +coroner, "are the only ones in this wing which communicate with the rest +of the castle, and both were usually kept locked, not only at night, but +during the daytime. You will please notice, my lord," continued the +coroner, as they entered the library, "that both doors are fitted with +an ingenious device, by means of which they can be bolted and unbolted +from several seats in this room and from the divans in the +swimming-bath. Only in the early morning were the housemaids admitted to +these rooms; after that no one but Mustapha, Lord Wilmersley's Turkish +valet, ever crossed the threshold, unless with his lordship's express +permission."</p> + +<p>Twombley hurried him through the library.</p> + +<p>"You can look this room over later; I want you first to see the +swimming-bath."</p> + +<p>Cyril found himself in an immense and lofty hall, constructed entirely +of white marble and lighted by innumerable jewelled lamps, whose +multi-coloured lights were reflected in the transparent waters of a +pool, from the middle of which rose and splashed a fountain. Divans +covered with soft cushions and several small tables laden with pipes, +<i>houkahs</i>, cigarettes, etc., were placed at intervals around the sides +of the bath. On one of the tables, Cyril noticed that two coffee-cups +were still standing and by the side of a divan lay a long Turkish pipe. +The floor was strewn with rare skins. A profusion of tropical plants +imparted a heavy perfume to the air, which was warm and moist. Cyril +blinked his eyes; he felt as if he had suddenly been transported to the +palace of Aladdin.</p> + +<p>"Rum place, what?" said Twombley, looking about him with evident +disfavour. "To be shut in here for three years would be enough to drive +any one crazy, I say."</p> + +<p>"You will notice," said the coroner, "that the only entrance to the bath +is through the library or her ladyship's bedroom. No one could have let +himself down through the skylight, as it is protected by iron bars."</p> + +<p>"I see."</p> + +<p>"It was here and in the library that Lord Wilmersley spent his time, and +it was here in the right-hand corner of the bath that his body was +discovered this morning by one of the housemaids. The spot, as you see, +is exactly opposite her ladyship's door and that door was found open, +just as it stands at present. Now the housemaids swear that they always +found it closed and it is their belief that his lordship used to lock +her ladyship in her rooms before retiring to his own quarters for the +night. At all events they were never allowed to see her ladyship or +enter her apartments unless his lordship or her ladyship's maid was also +present."</p> + +<p>"At about what time is Lord Wilmersley supposed to have been killed?" +asked Cyril after a slight pause.</p> + +<p>"Judging from the condition of the body, the doctor thinks that the +murder was committed between eleven and twelve <span class="smcap">P.M.</span>," replied the +coroner; "and whoever fired the shot must have stood five or six feet +from Lord Wilmersley; in all probability, therefore, in the doorway of +the bedroom. This is the room. Nothing has been touched, and you see +that neither here nor in the swimming-bath are there signs of a +struggle."</p> + +<p>"The door leading into the hall was found locked?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my lord."</p> + +<p>"Then how did the house-man enter?"</p> + +<p>"By means of a pass-key."</p> + +<p>"Where does that other door lead to?" asked Cyril, pointing to a door to +his left.</p> + +<p>"Into the sitting-room," replied the coroner, throwing it open. "It was +here, I am told, that Lady Wilmersley usually spent the morning."</p> + +<p>It was a large, pleasant room panelled in white. A few faded pastels of +by-gone beauties ornamented the walls. A gilt cage in which slumbered a +canary hung in one of the windows. Cyril looked eagerly about him for +some traces of its late occupant's personality; but except for a piece +of unfinished needlework, lying on a small table near the fireplace, +there was nothing to betray the owner's taste or occupations.</p> + +<p>"And there is no way out of this room except through the bedroom?"</p> + +<p>"None."</p> + +<p>"No secret door?"</p> + +<p>"No, my lord. Mr. Judson thought of that and has tapped the walls."</p> + +<p>"But the windows?"</p> + +<p>"These windows as well as those in the bedroom are fitted with heavy +iron bars. Look," he said.</p> + +<p>"Who was the last person known to have seen Lord Wilmersley alive?"</p> + +<p>"Mustapha. He carried coffee into the swimming-bath at a quarter past +nine, as was his daily custom."</p> + +<p>"And he noticed nothing unusual?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing. And he swears that in passing out through the library he heard +the bolt click behind him."</p> + +<p>"What sort of a person is Mustapha?"</p> + +<p>"Lord Wilmersley brought him back with him when he returned from the +East. He had the greatest confidence in him," said the vicar.</p> + +<p>"Do you know what his fellow-servants think of him," inquired Cyril, +addressing the coroner.</p> + +<p>"He kept very much to himself. I fancy he is not a favourite, but no one +has actually said anything against him."</p> + +<p>"Insular prejudice!" cried the vicar. "How few of us are able to +overcome our inborn British suspicion of the foreigner!"</p> + +<p>"Now will you examine the library?" asked the coroner. "See, here is his +lordship's desk. There are the drawers in which the £300 were found, and +yet any one could have picked that lock."</p> + +<p>"Where does that door lead to?"</p> + +<p>"Into Lord Wilmersley's bedroom, the window of which is also provided +with iron bars."</p> + +<p>"And that room has no exit but this?"</p> + +<p>"None, my lord. If the murderer came from outside, he must have got in +through one of these windows, which are the only ones in this wing which +have no protection, and this one was found ajar—but it may have been +used only as an exit, not as an entrance."</p> + +<p>Cyril looked out. Even a woman would have no difficulty in jumping to +the ground.</p> + +<p>"But it couldn't have been a burglar," said the vicar, "for what object +could a thief have for destroying a portrait?"</p> + +<p>"Destroying what portrait?" inquired Cyril.</p> + +<p>"Oh, didn't you know that her ladyship's portrait was found cut into +shreds?" said the coroner.</p> + +<p>"And a pair of Lady Wilmersley's scissors lay on the floor in front of +it," added the vicar.</p> + +<p>"Let me see it," cried Cyril.</p> + +<p>Going to a corner of the room the vicar pulled aside a velvet curtain +behind which hung the wreck of a picture. The canvas was slashed from +top to bottom. No trace of the face was left; only a small piece of fair +hair was still distinguishable.</p> + +<p>Cyril grasped Twombley's arm. Fair! And his mysterious <i>protégée</i> was +dark!</p> + +<p>"What—what was the colour of Lady Wilmersley's hair?" He almost +stuttered with excitement.</p> + +<p>"A very pale yellow," replied the coroner.</p> + +<p>"Why do you ask?" inquired the detective.</p> + +<p>For the convenience of my readers I give a diagram of Lord and Lady +Wilmersley's apartments.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/diagram.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<table cellpadding="1" cellspacing="5" width="50%"> +<tr><td>X.</td><td> Spot where Lord Wilmersley's body was found.</td></tr> +<tr><td>1.</td><td> Doors locked and barred.</td></tr> +<tr><td>2.</td><td> Windows all barred.</td></tr> +<tr><td>3.</td><td> Window without bars found open.</td></tr> +<tr><td>4.</td><td> Library table.</td></tr> +<tr><td>5.</td><td> Lady Wilmersley's portrait.</td></tr> +<tr><td>6.</td><td> Doors leading to swimming-pool.</td></tr> +<tr><td>7.</td><td> Doors leading from hall.</td></tr> +<tr><td>8.</td><td> Divans.</td></tr> +</table> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>THE DETECTIVE DETECTS</h3> + + +<p>"A very pale yellow!" Cyril was dumb-founded.</p> + +<p>Every fact, every inference had seemed to prove beyond the shadow of a +doubt that his <i>protégée</i> and Lady Wilmersley were one and the same +person. Was it possible that she could have worn a wig? No, for he +remembered that in lifting her veil, he had inadvertently pulled her +hair a little and had admired the way it grew on her temples.</p> + +<p>"Why does the colour of her ladyship's hair interest you, my lord?" +again inquired the detective.</p> + +<p>Cyril blushed with confusion as he realised that all three men were +watching him with evident astonishment. What a fool he was not to have +been able to conceal his surprise! What answer could he give them? +However, as it was not his cousin's murderess he was hiding, he felt he +had nothing to fear from the detective, so ignoring him he turned to Mr. +Twombley and said with a forced laugh:</p> + +<p>"I must be losing my mind, for I distinctly remember hearing a friend of +mine rave about Lady Wilmersley's dark beauty." Rather a fishy +explanation, thought poor Cyril; but really his powers of invention were +exhausted. Would it satisfy them?</p> + +<p>He glanced sharply at the detective. The latter was no longer looking at +him, but was contemplating his watch-chain with absorbed attention.</p> + +<p>"Hah, hah! Rather a joke, what?" laughed Twombley. "Never had seen her, +I suppose; no one ever did, you know, except out driving."</p> + +<p>"It was either a silly joke or my memory is in a bad shape," said Cyril. +"Luckily it is a matter of no consequence. What is of vital importance, +however," he continued, turning to the detective, "is that her ladyship +should be secured immediately. No one is safe while she is still at +large."</p> + +<p>"It is unfortunate," replied the detective, "that no photograph of her +ladyship can be found, but we have telegraphed her description all over +the country."</p> + +<p>"What is her description, by the way?"</p> + +<p>"Here it is, my lord," said Judson, handing Cyril a printed sheet.</p> + +<p>"Height, 5 feet 3; weight, about 9 stone 2; hair, very fair, inclined to +be wavy; nose, straight; mouth, small; eyes, blue; face, oval," read +Cyril. "Well, I suppose that will have to do, but of course that +description would fit half the women in England."</p> + +<p>"That's the trouble, my lord."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Twombley, when you said just now that no one knew her, did you mean +that literally?"</p> + +<p>"Nobody in the county did; I'm sure of that."</p> + +<p>"And you, Mr. James? Is it possible that even you never saw her?"</p> + +<p>"I have never spoken to her."</p> + +<p>"Then so far as you know, the only person outside the castle she could +communicate with was the doctor. What sort of a man is he?"</p> + +<p>"What doctor are you speaking of?" inquired the vicar.</p> + +<p>"Why, the doctor who had charge of her case, of course," replied Cyril +impatiently.</p> + +<p>"I never heard of her having a doctor."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to say that Wilmersley kept her in confinement without +orders from a physician?"</p> + +<p>"No, I suppose not. Of course not. There must have been some one," +faltered the vicar a trifle abashed.</p> + +<p>"You never, however, inquired by what authority he kept his wife shut +up?"</p> + +<p>"I never insulted Lord Wilmersley by questioning the wisdom of his +conduct or the integrity of his motives, and I repeat that there was +undoubtedly some physician in attendance on Lady Wilmersley, only I do +not happen to know who he is."</p> + +<p>"Well, I must clear this matter up at once. Please ring the bell, +Judson."</p> + +<p>A minute later the butler appeared.</p> + +<p>"Who was her ladyship's physician?" demanded Cyril.</p> + +<p>"My lady never 'ad one; leastways not till yesterday."</p> + +<p>"Yesterday?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my lord, yesterday afternoon two gentlemen drove up in a fly and +one of them says 'is name is Dr. Brown and that 'e was expected, and 'is +lordship said as how I was to show them in here, and so I did."</p> + +<p>"You think they came to see her ladyship?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my lord, and at dinner her ladyship seemed very much upset. She +didn't eat a morsel, though 'is lordship urged 'er ever so."</p> + +<p>"But why should a doctor's visit upset her ladyship?"</p> + +<p>The butler pursed his lips and looked mysterious. "I can't say, my +lord."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, you've some idea in your head. Out with it!"</p> + +<p>"Well, my lord, me and Charles, we thought as she was afraid they were +going to lock 'er up."</p> + +<p>Cyril started slightly.</p> + +<p>"Ah! If they had done so long ago!" exclaimed the vicar, clasping his +hands.</p> + +<p>"But, sir, her ladyship wasn't crazy! They all say so, but it isn't +true. Me and Charles 'ave watched 'er at table day in and day out and +we're willing to swear that she isn't any more crazy than—than me! +Please excuse the liberty, but I never thought 'er ladyship was treated +right, I never did."</p> + +<p>"Why, you told me yourself that his lordship was devoted to her."</p> + +<p>"So 'e was, my lord, so 'e was." The man shuffled uneasily.</p> + +<p>"If her ladyship is not insane, why do you think his lordship kept her a +prisoner here?"</p> + +<p>"Well, my lord, some people 'ave thought that it was jealousy as made +him do it."</p> + +<p>"That," exclaimed the vicar, "is a vile calumny, which I have done my +best to refute."</p> + +<p>"So jealousy was the motive generally ascribed to my cousin's treatment +of his wife?"</p> + +<p>"Not generally, far from it; but I regret to say that there are people +who professed to believe it."</p> + +<p>"Did her ladyship have a nurse?" asked Cyril, addressing the butler.</p> + +<p>"No, my lord, only a maid."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Valdriguez is a very respectable person, my lord."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. What?" demanded Cyril.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Valdriguez."</p> + +<p>"What a queer name."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps, my lord, I don't pronounce it just right. Mrs. Valdriguez is +Spanish."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my lord, she was here first in the time of Lord Wilmersley's +mother, and 'is lordship brought 'er back again when he returned from +'is 'oneymoon. Lady Wilmersley never left these rooms without 'aving +either 'is lordship, Mustapha, or Valdriguez with 'er."</p> + +<p>"Very good, Douglas, you can go now."</p> + +<p>"A pretty state of things!" cried Cyril when the door closed behind the +butler. "Here in civilised England a poor young creature is kept in +confinement with a Spanish woman and a Turk to watch over her, and no +one thinks of demanding an investigation! It's monstrous!"</p> + +<p>"My boy, you're right. Never liked the man myself—confess it now—but I +didn't know anything against him. Pretty difficult to interfere, what? +Never occurred to me to do so."</p> + +<p>"I am deeply pained by your attitude to your unfortunate cousin, who +paid with his life for his devotion to an afflicted woman. I feel it my +duty to say that your suspicions are unworthy of you. I must go now; I +have some parochial duties to attend to." And with scant ceremony the +vicar stalked out of the room.</p> + +<p>"It's getting late, I see. Must be off too. Can't be late for +dinner—wife, you know. Why don't you come with me—gloomy +here—delighted to put you up. Do come," urged Twombley.</p> + +<p>"Thanks awfully, not to-night. I'm dead beat. It's awfully good of you +to suggest it, though."</p> + +<p>"Not at all; sorry you won't come. See you at the inquest," said +Twombley as he took his departure followed by the coroner.</p> + +<p>Cyril remained where they left him. He was too weary to move. Before him +on the desk lay his cousin's blotter. Its white surface still bore the +impress of the latter's thick, sprawling handwriting. That chair not so +many hours ago had held his unwieldy form. The murdered man's presence +seemed to permeate the room. Cyril shuddered involuntarily. The heavy, +perfume-laden air stifled him. What was that? He could hear nothing but +the tumultuous beating of his own heart. Yet he was sure, warned by some +mysterious instinct, that he was not alone. Behind him stood—something. +He longed to move, but terror riveted him to the spot. A vision of his +cousin's baleful eyes rose before him with horrible vividness. He could +feel their vindictive glare scorching him. Was he going mad? Was he a +coward? No, he must face the—thing—come what might. Throwing back his +head defiantly, he wheeled around—the detective was at his elbow! Cyril +gave a gasp of relief and wiped the tell-tale perspiration from his +forehead. He had completely forgotten the fellow. What a shocking state +his nerves were in!</p> + +<p>"Can you spare me a few minutes, my lord?" Whenever the detective spoke, +Cyril had the curious impression as of a voice issuing from a fog. So +grey, so effaced, so absolutely characterless was the man's exterior! +His voice, on the other hand, was excessively individual. There lurked +in it a suggestion of assertiveness, of aggressiveness even. Cyril was +conscious of a sudden dread of this strong, insistent personality, lying +as it were at ambush within that envelope of a body, that envelope which +he felt he could never penetrate, which gave no indication whether it +concealed a friend or enemy, a saint or villain.</p> + +<p>"I shall not detain you long," Judson added, as Cyril did not answer +immediately.</p> + +<p>"Come into the drawing-room," said Cyril, leading the way there.</p> + +<p>Thank God, he could breathe freely once more, thought Cyril, as he flung +himself into the comfortable depths of a chintz-covered sofa. How +delightfully wholesome and commonplace was this room! The air, a trifle +chill, notwithstanding the coal fire burning on the hearth, was like +balm to his fevered senses. His very soul felt cleansed and refreshed. +He no longer understood the terror which had so lately possessed him. He +looked at Judson. How could he ever have dignified this remarkably +unremarkable little man with his pompous manner into a mysterious and +possibly hostile force. The thing was absurd.</p> + +<p>"Sit down, Judson," said Cyril carelessly.</p> + +<p>"My lord, am I not right in supposing that I am unknown to you? By +reputation, I mean."</p> + +<p>"Quite," Cyril candidly acknowledged.</p> + +<p>"Ah! I thought so. Let me tell you then, my lord, that I am the +receptacle of the secrets of most, if not all, of the aristocracy."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" said Cyril. I'll take good care, he thought, that mine don't +swell the number.</p> + +<p>"That being the case, it is clear that my reputation for discretion is +unassailable. You see the force of that argument, my lord?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly," replied Cyril wearily.</p> + +<p>"Anything, therefore, which I may discover during the course of this +investigation, you may rest assured will be kept absolutely secret." He +paused a moment. "You can, therefore, confide in me without fear," +continued the detective.</p> + +<p>Cyril was surprised and a little startled. What did the man know?</p> + +<p>"What makes you think I have anything to confide?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"It is quite obvious, my lord, that you are holding something +back—something which would explain your attitude towards Lady +Wilmersley."</p> + +<p>"I don't follow you," replied Cyril, on his guard.</p> + +<p>"You have given every one to understand that you have never seen her +ladyship. You take up a stranger's cause very warmly, my lord."</p> + +<p>"I trust I shall always espouse the cause of every persecuted woman."</p> + +<p>"But how are you sure that she was persecuted? Every one praises his +lordship's devotion to her. He gave her everything she could wish for +except liberty. If she was insane, his conduct deserves great praise."</p> + +<p>"But I am sure she is not."</p> + +<p>"But you yourself urged me to secure her as soon as possible because you +were afraid she might do further harm," Judson reminded him.</p> + +<p>"That was before I heard Douglas's testimony. He has seen her daily for +three years and swears she is sane."</p> + +<p>"And the opinion of an ignorant servant is sufficient to make you +condemn his lordship without further proof?"</p> + +<p>Cyril moved uneasily.</p> + +<p>"If Lady Wilmersley is perfectly sane, it seems to me incredible that +she did not manage to escape years ago. A note dropped out of her +carriage would have brought the whole countryside to her rescue. Why, +she had only to appeal to this very same butler, who is convinced of her +sanity, and Lord Wilmersley could not have prevented her from leaving +the castle. Public opinion would have protected her."</p> + +<p>"That is true," acknowledged Cyril, "but her spirit may have been +broken."</p> + +<p>"What was there to break it? We hear only of his lordship's almost +excessive devotion. No, my lord, I can't help thinking that you are +judging both Lord and Lady Wilmersley by facts of which I am ignorant."</p> + +<p>Cyril did not know what to answer. He had at first championed Lady +Wilmersley because he had believed her to be his <i>protégée</i>, but now +that it had been proved that she was not, why was he still convinced +that she had in some way been a victim of her husband's cruelty? He had +to acknowledge that beyond a vague distrust of his cousin he had not +only no adequate reason, but no reason at all, for his suspicions.</p> + +<p>"You are mistaken," he said at last; "I am withholding nothing that +could in any way assist you to unravel this mystery. I confess I neither +liked nor trusted my cousin. I had no special reason. It was simply a +case of Dr. Fell. I know no more than you do of his treatment of her +ladyship. But doesn't the choice of a Turk and a Spaniard as attendants +on Lady Wilmersley seem to you open to criticism?"</p> + +<p>"Not necessarily, my lord. We trust most those we know best. Lord +Wilmersley had spent the greater part of his life with Turks and +Spaniards. It therefore seems to me quite natural that when it came to +selecting guardians for her ladyship, he should have chosen a man and a +woman he had presumably known for some years, whose worth he had proved, +whose fidelity he could rely on."</p> + +<p>"That sounds plausible," agreed Cyril; "still I can't help thinking it +very peculiar, to say the least, that Lady Wilmersley was not under a +doctor's care."</p> + +<p>"Her ladyship may have been too unbalanced to mingle with people, and +yet not in a condition to require medical attention. Such cases are not +uncommon."</p> + +<p>"True, and yet I have a feeling that Douglas was right, when he assured +us that her ladyship is not insane. You discredit his testimony on the +ground that he is an ignorant man. But if a man of sound common-sense +has the opportunity of observing a woman daily during three years, it +seems to me that his opinion cannot be lightly ignored. You never knew +my cousin. Well, I did, and as I said before, he was a man who inspired +me with the profoundest distrust, although I cannot cite one fact to +justify my aversion. I cannot believe that he ever sacrificed himself +for any one and am much more inclined to credit Douglas's suggestion +that it was jealousy which led him to keep her ladyship in such strict +seclusion. But why waste our time in idle conjectures when it is so easy +to find out the truth? Those two doctors who saw her yesterday must be +found. If they are men of good reputation, of course I shall accept +their report as final."</p> + +<p>"Very good, my lord, I will at once have an advertisement inserted in +all the papers asking them to communicate with us. If that does not +fetch them, I shall employ other means of tracing them."</p> + +<p>"Has Lady Upton, her ladyship's grandmother, been heard from?"</p> + +<p>"She wired this morning asking for further particulars. Mr. Twombley +answered her, I believe."</p> + +<p>A slight pause ensued during which Judson watched Cyril as if expecting +him to speak.</p> + +<p>"And you have still nothing to say to me, my lord?" The detective spoke +with evident disappointment.</p> + +<p>"No, what else should I have to say?" replied Cyril with some surprise.</p> + +<p>"That is, of course, for you to judge, my lord." His meaning was +unmistakable. Cyril flushed angrily. Was it possible that the man dared +to doubt his word? Dared to disbelieve his positive assertion that he +knew nothing whatsoever about the murder? The damnable—suddenly he +remembered! Remembered the lies he had been so glibly telling all day. +Why should any one believe him in future? His ignominy was probably +already stamped on his face.</p> + +<p>"I have nothing more to say," replied Cyril in a strangely meek voice.</p> + +<p>"That being the case, I'd better be off," said Judson, rising slowly +from his chair.</p> + +<p>"Where are you going now?"</p> + +<p>"I can't quite tell, my lord. It is my intention to vanish, so to +speak."</p> + +<p>"Vanish."</p> + +<p>"Yes, my lord. I work best in the dark; but you will hear from me as +soon as I have something definite to report."</p> + +<p>"I hope you will be successful," said Cyril.</p> + +<p>"Thank you; I've never failed so far in anything I have undertaken. I +must, however, warn you, my lord, that investigations sometimes lead to +conclusions which no one could have foreseen when they were started. I +always make a point of reminding my employers of this possibility."</p> + +<p>What the devil was the man driving at, thought Cyril; did he suspect him +by any chance? That would be really too absurd! The man was an ass.</p> + +<p>"I shall never quarrel with you for discovering the truth," said Cyril, +drawing himself up to his full height and glaring fiercely down at the +little grey man. Then, turning abruptly on his heel he stalked +indignantly out of the room, slamming the door behind him.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3>THE MYSTERIOUS MAID</h3> + + +<p>"My lord."</p> + +<p>Cyril shook himself reluctantly awake.</p> + +<p>"Sorry to disturb you, but this 'as just come," said Peter, holding out +a tray on which lay an opened telegram. His expression was so tragic +that Cyril started up and seized the message.</p> + +<p>It was addressed to Peter Thompkins, Geralton Castle, Newhaven, and +read: "Change for the better. Your presence necessary." Signed, +"Stuart-Smith."</p> + +<p>"Why, that is good news!" cried Cyril greatly relieved. "What are you +pulling such a long face for?"</p> + +<p>"You call it good news that you haven't got rid of that young woman +yet?" exclaimed Peter. "This Stuart-Smith, whoever he may be, who is +wiring you to come to 'er, thinks she's your wife, doesn't he? That was +bad enough when you were just Mr. Crichton, but now it's just hawful. A +Lady Wilmersley can't be hid as a Mrs. Crichton could, begging your +pardon. Oh, it'll all come out, so it will, and you'll be 'ad up for +bigamy, like as not!" Peter almost groaned.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! As soon as the young lady recovers, she will join her friends +and no one will be any the wiser."</p> + +<p>Peter shook his head incredulously.</p> + +<p>"Well, my lord, let's 'ope so! But what answer am I to send to this +telegram? You can't leave the castle now."</p> + +<p>"It would certainly be inconvenient," agreed his master.</p> + +<p>"If you did, you'd be followed, my lord."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean? The police can't be such fools as all that."</p> + +<p>"'Tisn't the police, my lord. It's those men from the newspapers. The +castle is full of them; they're nosing about heverywhere; there's not +one of us as hasn't been pestered with the fellows. It's what you are +like, what are you doing, what 'ave you done, and a lot more foolish +questions hever since we set foot here yesterday afternoon. And 'we'll +pay you well,' they say. Of course, I've not opened my mouth to them, +but they're that persistent, they'll follow you to the end of the earth +if you should leave the castle unexpectedly."</p> + +<p>This was a complication that had not occurred to Cyril, and yet he felt +he ought to have foreseen it. What was to be done? He couldn't abandon +the girl. Suddenly Stuart-Smith's stern face and uncompromising upper +lip rose vividly before him. Even if he wished to do so, the doctor +would never allow him to ignore his supposed wife. If he did not answer +his summons in person, Smith would certainly put the worst +interpretation on his absence. He would argue that only a brute would +neglect a wife who was lying seriously ill and the fact that the girl +had been flogged could also be remembered against him. Dr. Smith was +capable of taking drastic measures to force him into performing what he +considered the latter's obvious duty.</p> + +<p>Cyril did not know what to do. He had only a choice of evils. If he +went, he would surely be followed and the girl's existence and +hiding-place discovered. That would be fatal not only to him but to her, +for she had feared detection above all things—why, he could not even +surmise—he no longer even cared; but he had promised to protect her and +meant to do so.</p> + +<p>On the other hand, if he did not go, he ran the risk of the doctor's +publishing the girl's whereabouts. Still, it was by no means certain he +would do so, and if he wrote Smith a diplomatic letter, he might succeed +in persuading him that it was best for the girl if he stayed away a day +longer. Yes, that was the thing to do. Hastily throwing on a +dressing-gown, he sat down at the desk. It was a difficult letter to +write and he destroyed many sheets before he was finally satisfied. This +was the result of his efforts:</p> + +<blockquote><p>"<span class="smcap">Dear Dr. Stuart-Smith</span>:</p> + +<p>"I am infinitely relieved that your patient is better. As you +addressed your wire here, I gather that you know of the tragic +occurrence, which has kept me from her side. It is impossible +for me to leave before the funeral without explaining my +mission, and this I am very loath to do, as I am more than ever +anxious to keep her malady a secret. Dr. Monet has always +believed in the possibility of a cure, and as long as there is +a chance of that, I am sure you will agree with me that I ought +to make every sacrifice to protect her from gossip. If she did +recover and her illness became known, it would greatly handicap +her in her new life. Having to stay away from her would be even +more distressing to me than it is if I could flatter myself +that my presence would have a good effect upon her. I am sure, +however, that such would not be the case.</p> + +<p>"I shall return to London late to-morrow afternoon and will +telephone you immediately on my arrival.</p> + +<p>"I am sending this by a trustworthy servant, who will bring me +your answer. I am most anxious to hear what you think of your +patient's condition, mentally as well as physically. I am sure +she could not be in better hands."</p></blockquote> + +<p>Then Cyril hesitated. What should he sign himself? Thompkins? No, he +wished to inspire confidence; his own name would be better. So with a +firm hand he wrote "Wilmersley."</p> + +<p>It was the first time he had used his new signature and he heartily +wished it had not been appended to such a document.</p> + +<p>"Now, Peter," he said, "you must take the next train to London and carry +this to Dr. Stuart-Smith. If he is not at the nursing home, telephone to +his house and find out where he is. The letter must be delivered as soon +as possible and you are to wait for a reply. If the doctor asks you any +questions, answer as briefly as possible. In order to avoid comment you +had better let it be known that you are going up to town to do some +shopping for me. Buy something—anything. I want you also to call at the +lodgings and tell them we shall return to-morrow. If you are followed, +which I can't believe you will be, this will allay suspicion. Take a +taxi and get back as soon as possible. Don't drive directly to the Home. +You may mention to the doctor that I am extremely anxious about Mrs. +Thompkins."</p> + +<p>"Very good, my lord."</p> + +<p>"Throw the sheets I have scribbled on into the fire and the blotting +paper as well," ordered Cyril.</p> + +<p>He felt rather proud of having thought of this detail, but with +detectives and pressmen prowling around he must run no risks. It was +with a very perturbed mind that Cyril finally went down to breakfast.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Eversley would like to speak to you, my lord, as soon as +convenient," said Douglas as his master rose from the table. Cyril +fancied he detected a gleam of suppressed excitement in the butler's +eye.</p> + +<p>"I'll see her at once," Cyril answered.</p> + +<p>A stout, respectable-looking woman hesitated in the doorway.</p> + +<p>"Come in, Mrs. Eversley," cried Cyril. "I'm glad to see you again. I've +never forgotten you or your doughnuts."</p> + +<p>The troubled face broke into a pleased smile as the woman dropped a +courtesy.</p> + +<p>"It's very kind of you to remember them, my lord, very kind indeed, and +glad I am to see you again." The smile vanished. "This is a terrible +business, my lord."</p> + +<p>"Terrible," assented Cyril.</p> + +<p>"His poor lordship! Mrs. Valdriguez has said for months and months that +something like this was sure to happen some day."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to say that she prophesied that her ladyship would kill his +lordship?" exclaimed Cyril.</p> + +<p>"Yes, my lord, indeed she did! It made me feel that queer when it really +'appened."</p> + +<p>"I should think so. It's most extraordinary."</p> + +<p>"But begging your pardon, my lord, there is something special as made me +ask to speak to you—something I thought you ought to know immediately."</p> + +<p>"What is it?" Cyril had felt that some new trouble was brewing.</p> + +<p>"One of the servants has disappeared, my lord."</p> + +<p>"Disappeared? How? When?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I'm making too much of it, but this murder has that upset me +that I'm afraid of my own shadow and I says to myself, says I: 'Don't +wait; go and tell his lordship at once and he'll know whether it is +important or not.'"</p> + +<p>"You did perfectly right. But who has disappeared?"</p> + +<p>"Priscilla Prentice and perhaps she hasn't disappeared at all. This is +how it is: The day before yesterday——"</p> + +<p>"The day of the murder?" asked Cyril.</p> + +<p>"Yes, my lord. Prentice came to me and asked if she could go to Newhaven +to see a cousin she has there. The cousin is ill—leastways so she told +me—and she wanted as a great favour to be allowed to spend the night +with her, and she promised to come back by the carrier early next +morning. It seemed all right, so I gave her permission and off she goes. +Then yesterday this dreadful thing happened and Prentice went clean out +of my head. I never thought of her again till breakfast this morning +when Mr. Douglas says to me: 'Why, wherever is Miss Prentice?' You could +'ave knocked me down with a feather, I was that taken aback! So I says, +'Whatever can 'ave happened to her?'"</p> + +<p>"When she heard of the murder, she may have taken fright. She may be +waiting to return to the castle till the inquest and funeral are over," +suggested Cyril.</p> + +<p>"Then she ought at least to have sent word. Besides she should have got +back before she could have heard of the murder."</p> + +<p>"You had better send to the cousin's and find out if she is there. She +may have been taken ill and had nobody to send a message by."</p> + +<p>"We none of us know whereabouts this cousin lives, my lord."</p> + +<p>"Newhaven is not a large place. It can't be difficult to find her."</p> + +<p>"But we don't know her name, my lord."</p> + +<p>"That certainly complicates matters. How long has this girl been at the +castle?"</p> + +<p>"Six months, my lord."</p> + +<p>"Who did you get her from?"</p> + +<p>"I advertised for her, my lord. Mrs. Valdriguez's eyes are not what they +were and so she 'ad to have somebody to do the mending. I must say +foreigners sew beautifully, so it was some time before I could get any +one whose work suited Mrs. Valdriguez."</p> + +<p>"What references did the girl give?"</p> + +<p>"It was this way, my lord. She's very young, and this is her first +place. But she was excellently recommended by Mr. Vaughan, vicar of +Plumtree, who wrote that she was a most respectable girl and that he +could vouch for her character. Those are his very words, my lord."</p> + +<p>"That certainly sounded satisfactory."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad you think so, my lord. So she came. Such a nice young woman +she seemed, so 'ard-working and conscientious; one who kept 'erself to +'erself; never a word with the men—never, though she is so pretty."</p> + +<p>"Oh, she is pretty, is she?" A faint but horrible suspicion flashed +through Cyril's mind.</p> + +<p>"Yes, my lord, as pretty as a picture."</p> + +<p>"What does she look like?"</p> + +<p>"She is tall and slight with dark hair and blue eyes," Mrs. Eversley +answered. She was evidently taken aback at her master's interest in a +servant's appearance and a certain reserve crept into her voice.</p> + +<p>"Could she—would it be possible to mistake her for a lady?" stammered +Cyril.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Eversley started.</p> + +<p>"Well, my lord, it's strange you should ask that, for Douglas, he always +has said, 'Mark my words, Miss Prentice isn't what she seems,' and I +must say she is very superior, very."</p> + +<p>It wasn't, it couldn't be possible, thought Cyril; and yet——</p> + +<p>"Did she see much of her ladyship?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Lately, Mrs. Valdriguez, seeing as what she was such a quiet girl, has +allowed her to put the things she has mended back into her ladyship's +room, and I know her ladyship has spoken to her, but how often she has +done so I couldn't really say. Prentice didn't talk much."</p> + +<p>"Did she seem much interested in her ladyship?"</p> + +<p>"At first very much so. If we were talking about her ladyship, she would +always stay and listen. Once, when one of the housemaids 'ad said +something about her being crazy, I think, Prentice got quite excited, +and when Mrs. Valdriguez had left the room, she said to me, 'I don't +believe there is anything the matter with her ladyship; I think it just +cruel the way she is kept locked up!' Begging your pardon, my lord, +those were her very words. She made me promise not to repeat what she +had said—least of all to Mrs. Valdriguez, and I never have, not till +this minute."</p> + +<p>"Did she ever suggest that she would like to help her ladyship to +escape?"</p> + +<p>"Why, my lord!" exclaimed Mrs. Eversley, staring at her master in +astonishment. "That's just what she did do, just once—oh, you don't +think she did it! And yet that's what they're all saying——"</p> + +<p>"Is anything missing from her room?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I can't say, my lord; her trunk is locked and she took a small bag with +her. But there are things in the drawers and a skirt and a pair of shoes +in the wardrobe."</p> + +<p>"From the appearance of the room, therefore, you should judge that she +intended to return?"</p> + +<p>"Ye-es, my lord—and yet I must say, I was surprised to see so few +things about, and the skirt and shoes were very shabby."</p> + +<p>"I suppose that by this time every one knows the girl is missing?" Cyril +asked.</p> + +<p>"The upper servants do, and the detective was after me to tell him all +about her, but I wouldn't say a word till I had asked what your +lordship's wishes are."</p> + +<p>"I thought Judson had left the castle?"</p> + +<p>"So he has, my lord; this is the man from Scotland Yard. Griggs is his +name. He was 'ere before Judson, but he had left the castle before you +arrived."</p> + +<p>Impossible even to attempt, to keep her disappearance a secret, thought +Cyril. After all, perhaps she was not his <i>protégée</i>. He was always +jumping at erroneous conclusions, and a description is so misleading. On +the other hand, the combination of black hair and blue eyes was a most +unusual one. Besides, it was already sufficiently remarkable that two +young and beautiful women had fled from Newhaven on the same day (beauty +being alas such a rarity!), but that three should have done so was +well-nigh incredible. But could even the most superior of upper servants +possess that air of breeding which was one of the girl's most noticeable +attributes. It was, of course, within the bounds of possibility that +this maid was well-born and simply forced by poverty into a menial +position. One thing was certain—if his <i>protégée</i> was Priscilla +Prentice, then this girl, in spite of her humble occupation, was a lady, +and consequently more than ever in need of his protection and respect.</p> + +<p>Well, assuming that it was Prentice he had rescued, what part had she +played in the tragedy? Why had she feared arrest? She must have been +present at the murder, but even in that case, why did she not realise +that Lady Wilmersley's unbalanced condition would prevent suspicion from +falling on any one else? The police had never even thought of her! And +where had she hidden her mistress? It was all most mysterious.</p> + +<p>Cyril sat weighing the <i>pros and cons</i> of one theory after another, +completely oblivious of his housekeeper's presence.</p> + +<p>Douglas, entering, discreetly interrupted his cogitations:</p> + +<p>"The inquest is about to begin, my lord."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3>THE INQUEST</h3> + + +<p>On entering the hall Cyril found that a seat on the right hand of the +coroner had been reserved for him, but he chose a secluded corner from +which he could watch the proceedings unobserved.</p> + +<p>On the left of Mr. Tinker sat a tall, imposing-looking man, who, on +inquiry, proved to be Inspector Griggs.</p> + +<p>The first part of the inquest developed nothing new. It was only when +Mustapha stepped forward that Cyril's interest revived and he forgot the +problem of his <i>protégée's</i> identity.</p> + +<p>The Turk, with the exception of a red fez, was dressed as a European, +but his swarthy skin, large, beak-like nose, and deep, sombre eyes, in +which brooded the mystery of the East, proclaimed his nationality.</p> + +<p>Cyril tried in vain to form some estimate of the man's character, to +probe the depths of those fathomless eyes, but ignorant as he was of the +Oriental, he found it impossible to differentiate between Mustapha's +racial and individual characteristics. That he was full of infinite +possibilities was evident—even his calmness was suggestive of potential +passion. A man to be watched, decided Cyril.</p> + +<p>Mustapha gave his testimony in a low, clear voice, and although he spoke +with a strong foreign accent, his English was purer than that of his +fellow servants.</p> + +<p>That he had nothing to do with the murder seemed from the first +conclusively proved. Several of the servants had seen him enter his +room, which adjoined that of the butler, at about half-past nine—that +is to say, an hour and a half before Lord Wilmersley's death could, in +the doctor's opinion, have taken place—and Douglas on cross—reiterated +his conviction that Mustapha could not have left his room without his +having heard him do so, as he, Douglas, was a very light sleeper.</p> + +<p>In answer to questions from the coroner, Mustapha told how he had +entered the late Lord Wilmersley's service some fifteen years +previously, at which time his master owned a house on the outskirts of +Constantinople. As he dressed as a Mussulman and consorted entirely with +the natives, Mustapha did not know that he was a foreigner till his +master informed him of the fact just before leaving Turkey.</p> + +<p>When questioned as to Lady Wilmersley, he was rather non-committal. No, +he had never believed her to be dangerous.—Had she seemed happy? No, +she cried often.—Did his lordship ever ill-treat her? Not that he knew +of. His lordship was very patient with her tears.—Did he know how she +could have obtained a pistol? Yes, there was one concealed on his +master's desk. He had discovered that it was missing.—How could a +pistol lie concealed <i>on</i> a desk? It was hidden inside an ancient steel +gauntlet, ostensibly used as a paperweight. Mustapha had found it one +day quite accidentally.—Did he tell his lordship of his discovery? No. +His master was always afraid of being spied upon.—Why? He did not +know.—Did Mustapha know of any enemy of his lordship who was likely to +have sought such a revenge? No. His master's enemies were not in +England.—Then his lordship had enemies? As all men have, so had +he.—But he had no special enemy? An enemy is an enemy, but his master's +enemies were not near.—How could he be so sure of that? He would have +had word.—How? From whom? From his, Mustapha's friends.—Did his +lordship fear his enemies would follow him to England? At first, +perhaps, but not lately.—If his lordship's enemies had found him, would +they have been likely to kill him? Who can tell? The heart of man is +very evil.—But he knew no one who could have done this thing? No +one.—Did he believe his mistress had done it? Mustapha hesitated for +the first time. "They say so," he finally answered.</p> + +<p>"But you, what do you think?" insisted the coroner.</p> + +<p>"The ways of women are dark."</p> + +<p>"Do you believe her ladyship killed your master—Yes or No?" repeated +the coroner impatiently.</p> + +<p>"It is not for me to say," replied Mustapha with unruffled dignity.</p> + +<p>The coroner, feeling himself rebuked, dismissed the man with a hurried +"That will do."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Valdriguez was next called.</p> + +<p>She was a tall, thin woman between fifty and sixty. Her black hair, +freely sprinkled with silver, was drawn into a tight knot at the back of +her small head. Her pale, haggard face, with its finely-chiselled nose, +thin-lipped mouth, and slightly-retreating chin, was almost beautified +by her large, sunken eyes, which still glowed with extraordinary +brilliancy. Her black dress was austere in its simplicity and she wore +no ornament except a small gold cross suspended on her bosom.</p> + +<p>The woman was obviously nervous. She held her hands tightly clasped in +front of her, and her lips twitched from time to time. She spoke so low +that Cyril had to lean forward to catch her answers, but her English was +perfectly fluent. It was chiefly her accent and intonation which +betrayed her foreign birth.</p> + +<p>"You lived here in the time of the late Lady Wilmersley, did you not?" +began the coroner.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"In what capacity?"</p> + +<p>"As lady's maid, sir."</p> + +<p>"When did you leave here, and why?"</p> + +<p>"I left when her ladyship died."</p> + +<p>"Did you return to Spain?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"How did you happen to enter the present Lady Wilmersley's service?"</p> + +<p>"Lord Wilmersley sent for me when he was on his wedding journey."</p> + +<p>"Had you seen him after you left Geralton?"</p> + +<p>"From time to time."</p> + +<p>"Do you know whether his lordship had any enemies?"</p> + +<p>"Not of late years."</p> + +<p>"Then you did know some. Who were they?"</p> + +<p>"Those that he had are either dead or have forgiven," Valdriguez +answered, and as she did so, she fingered the cross on her breast.</p> + +<p>"So that you can think of no one likely to have resorted to such a +terrible revenge?"</p> + +<p>"No one, sir."</p> + +<p>"On the night of the murder you did not assist her ladyship to undress, +so I understand?"</p> + +<p>"I never did. From the time her ladyship left her room to go to dinner I +never saw her again till the following morning."</p> + +<p>"And you noticed nothing unusual that evening?"</p> + +<p>"I can't say that. Her ladyship was very much excited. She cried and +begged me to help her to escape."</p> + +<p>A murmur of excitement ran through the hall.</p> + +<p>"What did you say to her?"</p> + +<p>"I told her that she was his lordship's lawful wife; that she had vowed +before God to honour and obey him in all things."</p> + +<p>"Had she ever made an attempt to escape?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir."</p> + +<p>"Did she ever give you any reason for wishing to do so?"</p> + +<p>"She told me that his lordship threatened to shut her up in a lunatic +asylum, but I assured her he would never do so. He loved her too much."</p> + +<p>"You consider that he was very devoted to her?"</p> + +<p>The woman closed her eyes for a second.</p> + +<p>"He loved her as I have never before known a man love a woman," she +answered, with suppressed vehemence.</p> + +<p>"Why then did he send for the doctors to commit her to an institution?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know."</p> + +<p>At this point of the interrogation Cyril scribbled a few words, which he +gave to one of the footmen to carry to the coroner. When the latter had +read them, he asked:</p> + +<p>"Did you consider her ladyship a dangerous lunatic?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir."</p> + +<p>"Why, then, did you prophesy that she would kill your master?"</p> + +<p>The woman trembled slightly and her hand again sought the cross.</p> + +<p>"I—I believed Lord Wilmersley's time had come, but I knew not how he +would die. I did not know that she would be the instrument—only I +feared it."</p> + +<p>"Why did you think his lordship's days were numbered?"</p> + +<p>"Sir, if I were to tell you my reasons, you would say that they were not +reasons. You would call them superstitions and me a foolish old woman. I +believe what I believe, and you, what you have been taught. God shall +judge. Suffice it, sir, that my reasons for believing that his lordship +would die soon are not such as would appeal to your common-sense."</p> + +<p>"H'm, well—I confess that signs and omens are not much in my line, but +I must really insist upon your giving some explanation as to why you +feared that your mistress would murder Lord Wilmersley."</p> + +<p>The woman's lips twitched convulsively and her eyes glowed with sombre +fire.</p> + +<p>"Because—if you will know it—he loved her more than was natural—he +loved her more than his God; and the Lord God is a jealous God."</p> + +<p>"And this is really your only reason for your extraordinary +supposition?"</p> + +<p>"For me it is enough," she replied.</p> + +<p>"Well, well—very curious indeed!" said the coroner, regarding the woman +intently.</p> + +<p>He paused for a moment.</p> + +<p>"How did you pass the evening of the murder?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"In my room. I had a headache and went early to bed."</p> + +<p>"I suppose somebody saw you after you left Lady Wilmersley's room who +can support your statement?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know. I do not remember seeing any one," answered Valdriguez, +throwing her head back and looking a little defiantly at Mr. Tinker.</p> + +<p>"Ah, really? That is a pity," said the coroner. "However, there is no +reason to doubt your word—as yet," he added.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Eversley was next called. The coroner questioned her exhaustively +as to the missing Priscilla Prentice. He seemed especially anxious to +know whether the girl had owned a bicycle. She had not.—Did she know +how to ride one? Yes, Mrs. Eversley had seen her try one belonging to +the under-housemaid.—Did many of the servants own bicycles? Yes.—Had +one of them been taken? She did not know.</p> + +<p>On further inquiry, however, it was found that all the machines were +accounted for.</p> + +<p>It had not occurred to Cyril to speculate as to how, if Prentice had +really aided her mistress to escape, she had been able to cover the nine +miles which separated the castle from Newhaven. Eighteen miles in one +evening on foot! Not perhaps an impossible feat, but very nearly so, +especially as on her way back she would have been handicapped by Lady +Wilmersley, a delicate woman, quite unaccustomed—at all events during +the last three years—to any form of exercise.</p> + +<p>It was evident, however, that this difficulty had not escaped the +coroner, for all the servants and more especially the gardeners and +under-gardeners were asked if they had seen in any of the +less-frequented paths traces of a carriage or bicycle. But no one had +seen or heard anything suspicious.</p> + +<p>The head gardener and his wife, who lived at the Lodge, swore that the +tall, iron gates had been locked at half-past nine, and that they had +heard no vehicle pass on the highroad during the night.</p> + +<p>At this point in the proceedings whispering was audible in the back of +the hall. The coroner paused to see what was the matter. A moment later +Douglas stepped up to him and said something in a low voice. The coroner +nodded.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Willis," he called.</p> + +<p>A middle-aged woman, very red in the face, came reluctantly forward.</p> + +<p>"Well, Mrs. Willis, I hear you have something to tell me?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed no, sir," exclaimed the woman, picking nervously at her gloves. +"It is nothing at all. Only when I 'eard you asking about carriages in +the night, I says to Mrs. Jones—well, one passed, I know that. +Leastways, it didn't exactly pass; it stayed."</p> + +<p>"The carriage stayed; where?"</p> + +<p>"It wasn't a carriage."</p> + +<p>"It wasn't a carriage and it stayed? Can't you explain yourself more +clearly, Mrs. Willis? This isn't a conundrum, is it?"</p> + +<p>"It was a car, a motor-car," stammered the woman.</p> + +<p>"A car! And it stopped? Where?"</p> + +<p>"I couldn't say exactly, but not far from our cottage."</p> + +<p>"And where is your cottage?"</p> + +<p>"On the 'ighroad near the long lane."</p> + +<p>"I see." The coroner was obviously excited. "Your husband is one of the +gardeners here, isn't he?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"So there is doubtless a path connecting your cottage with the castle +grounds?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"About how far from your cottage was the car?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't see it, sir; I just 'eard it; but it wasn't far, that I know," +reiterated the woman.</p> + +<p>"Did you hear any one pass through your garden?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir."</p> + +<p>"Could they have done so without your hearing them?"</p> + +<p>"They might."</p> + +<p>"Was the car going to or coming from Newhaven?"</p> + +<p>"It was coming from Newhaven."</p> + +<p>"Then it must have stopped at the foot of the long lane."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir; that's just about where I thought it was."</p> + +<p>"Is there a path connecting Long Lane with the highroad?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, a narrow one."</p> + +<p>"What time was it when you heard the car? Now try and be very accurate."</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't like to swear, sir, but I think it was between eleven and +twelve."</p> + +<p>"Did your husband hear it also?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir, 'e was fast asleep, but I wasn't feeling very well, so I had +got up thinking I'd make myself a cup of tea, and just then I 'eard a +car come whizzing along, and then there was a bang. Oh, says I, they've +burst their wheel, that's what they've done, me knowing about cars. I +know it takes a bit of mending, a wheel does, so I wasn't surprised when +I 'eard no more of them for a time—and I 'ad just about forgotten all +about them, so I had, when I 'ears them move off."</p> + +<p>"And they did not pass your cottage?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir, I'm sure of that."</p> + +<p>"Did you hear anything else?"</p> + +<p>"Well, sir"—the woman fidgeted uneasily, "I thought—but I shouldn't +like to swear to it—not on the Bible—but I fancied I 'eard a cry."</p> + +<p>"What sort of a cry? Was it a man or a woman's?"</p> + +<p>"I really couldn't say—and perhaps what I 'eard was not a cry at +all——"</p> + +<p>"Well, well—this is most important. A motor-car that is driven at +half-past eleven at night to the foot of a lane which leads nowhere but +to the castle grounds, and then returns in the direction it came +from—very extraordinary—very. We must look into this," exclaimed the +coroner.</p> + +<p>And with this the inquest was adjourned.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h3>LADY UPTON</h3> + + +<blockquote><p>Dr. Stuart-Smith to Mr. Peter Thompkins, Geralton Castle, +Newhaven.</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Dear Lord Wilmersley</span>:</p> + +<p>"Lady Wilmersley showed signs of returning consciousness at +half-past five yesterday afternoon. I was at once sent for, but +when I arrived she had fallen asleep. She woke again at nine +o'clock and this time asked where she was. She spoke +indistinctly and did not seem to comprehend what the nurse said +to her. When I reached the patient, I found her sitting up in +bed. Her pulse was irregular; her temperature, subnormal. I am +glad to be able to assure you that Lady Wilmersley is at +present perfectly rational. She is, however, suffering from +hysterical amnesia complicated by aphasia, but I trust this is +only a temporary affection. At first she hesitated over the +simplest words, but before I left she could talk with tolerable +fluency.</p> + +<p>"I asked Lady Wilmersley whether she wished to see you. She has +not only forgotten that she has a husband but has no very clear +idea as to what a husband is. In fact, she appears to have +preserved no precise impression of anything. She did not even +remember her own name. When I told it to her, she said it +sounded familiar, only that she did not associate it with +herself. Of you personally she has no recollection, although I +described you as accurately as I could. However, as your name +is the only thing she even dimly recalls, I hope that when you +see her, you will be able to help her bridge the gulf which +separates her from the past.</p> + +<p>"She seemed distressed at her condition, so I told her that she +had been ill and that it was not uncommon for convalescents to +suffer temporarily from loss of memory. When I left her, she +was perfectly calm.</p> + +<p>"She slept well last night, and this morning she has no +difficulty in expressing herself, but I do not allow her to +talk much as she is still weak.</p> + +<p>"I quite understand the delicacy of your position and +sympathise with you most deeply. Although I am anxious to try +what effect your presence will have on Lady Wilmersley, the +experiment can be safely postponed till to-morrow afternoon.</p> + +<p>"I trust the inquest will clear up the mystery which surrounds +the late Lord Wilmersley's death.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Believe me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Sincerely yours,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"<span class="smcap">A. Stuart-Smith</span>."<br /></span> +</div></div></blockquote> + +<p>Cyril stared at the letter aghast. If the girl herself had forgotten her +identity, how could he hope to find out the truth? He did not even dare +to instigate a secret inquiry—certainly not till the Geralton mystery +had been cleared up. And she believed herself to be his wife! It was too +awful!</p> + +<p>Cyril passed a sleepless night and the next morning found him still +undecided as to what course to pursue. It was, therefore, a pale face +and a preoccupied mien that he presented to the inspection of the +county, which had assembled in force to attend his cousin's funeral. +Never in the memory of man had such an exciting event taken place and +the great hall in which the catafalque had been erected was thronged +with men of all ages and conditions.</p> + +<p>In the state drawing-room Cyril stood and received the condolences and +faced the curiosity of the county magnates.</p> + +<p>The ordeal was almost over, when the door was again thrown open and the +butler announced, "Lady Upton."</p> + +<p>Leaning heavily on a gold-headed cane Lady Upton advanced majestically +into the room.</p> + +<p>A sudden hush succeeded her entrance; every eye was riveted upon her. +She seemed, however, superbly indifferent to the curiosity she aroused, +and one felt, somehow, that she was not only indifferent but +contemptuous.</p> + +<p>She was a tall woman, taller, although she stooped a little, than most +of the men present. Notwithstanding her great age, she gave the +impression of extraordinary vigour. Her face was long and narrow, with a +stern, hawk-like nose, a straight, uncompromising mouth, and a +protruding chin. Her scanty, white hair was drawn tightly back from her +high forehead; a deep furrow separated her bushy, grey eyebrows and gave +an added fierceness to her small, steel-coloured eyes. An antiquated +bonnet perched perilously on the back of her head; her dress was quite +obviously shabby; and yet no one could for a moment have mistaken her +for anything but a truly great lady.</p> + +<p>Disregarding Cyril's outstretched hand, she deliberately raised her +lorgnette and looked at him for a moment in silence.</p> + +<p>"Well! You are a Crichton at any rate," she said at last. Having given +vent to this ambiguous remark, she waved her glasses, as if to sweep +away the rest of the company, and continued: "I wish to speak to you +alone."</p> + +<p>Her voice was deep and harsh and she made no effort to lower it.</p> + +<p>"So this was Anita Wilmersley's grandmother. What an old tartar!" +thought Cyril.</p> + +<p>"It is almost time for the funeral to start," he said aloud and he tried +to convey by his manner that he, at any rate, had no intention of +allowing her to ride rough-shod over him.</p> + +<p>"I know," she snapped, "so hurry, please. These gentlemen will excuse +us."</p> + +<p>"Certainly." "Of course." "We will wait in the hall." Cyril heard them +murmur and, such was the force of the old lady's personality, that +youths and grey beards jostled each other in their anxiety to get out of +the room as quickly as possible.</p> + +<p>"Get me a chair," commanded Lady Upton. "No, not that one. I want to sit +down, not lie down."</p> + +<p>With her stick she indicated a high, straight-backed chair, which had +been relegated to a corner.</p> + +<p>Having seated herself, she took a pair of spectacles out of her reticule +and proceeded to wipe them in a most leisurely manner.</p> + +<p>Cyril fidgeted impatiently.</p> + +<p>Finally, her task completed to her own satisfaction, she adjusted her +glasses and crossed her hands over the top of her cane.</p> + +<p>"No news of my granddaughter, I suppose," she demanded.</p> + +<p>"None, I am sorry to say."</p> + +<p>"Anita is a fool, but I am certain—absolutely certain, mind you—that +she did not kill that precious husband of hers, though I don't doubt he +richly deserved it."</p> + +<p>"I am surprised that you of all people should speak of my cousin in that +tone," said Cyril and he looked at her meaningly.</p> + +<p>"Of course, you believe what every one believes, that I forced Ann into +that marriage. Stuff and nonsense! I merely pointed out to her that she +could not do better than take him. She had not a penny to her name and +after my death would have been left totally unprovided for. I have only +my dower, as you know."</p> + +<p>"But, how could you have allowed a girl whose mind was affected to +marry?"</p> + +<p>"Fiddlesticks! You don't believe that nonsense, do you? Newspaper +twaddle, that is all that amounts to."</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon, Arthur himself gave out that her condition was such +that she was unable to see any one."</p> + +<p>"Impossible! He wrote to me quite frequently and never hinted at such a +thing."</p> + +<p>"Nevertheless I assure you that is the case."</p> + +<p>"Then he is a greater blackguard than I took him to be——"</p> + +<p>"But did you not know that he kept her practically a prisoner here?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly not!"</p> + +<p>"And she never complained to you of his treatment of her?"</p> + +<p>"I once got a hysterical letter from her begging me to let her come back +to me, but as the only reason she gave for wishing to leave her husband +was that he was personally distasteful to her, I wrote back that as she +had made her bed, she must lie on it."</p> + +<p>"And even after that appeal you never made an attempt to see Anita and +find out for yourself how Arthur was treating her?"</p> + +<p>"I am not accustomed to being cross-questioned, Lord Wilmersley. I am +accountable to no one but my God for what I have done or failed to do. I +never liked Anita. She takes after her father, whom my daughter married +without my consent. When she was left an orphan, I took charge of her +and did my duty by her; but I never pretended that I was not glad when +she married and, as she did so of her own free-will, I cannot see that +her future life was any concern of mine."</p> + +<p>Cyril could hardly restrain his indignation. This proud, hard, selfish +old woman had evidently never ceased to visit her resentment of her +daughter's marriage on the child of that marriage. He could easily +picture the loveless and miserable existence poor Anita must have led. +Was it surprising that she should have taken the first chance that was +offered her of escaping from her grandmother's thraldom? She had +probably been too ignorant to realise what sort of a man Arthur +Wilmersley really was and too innocent to know what she was pledging +herself to.</p> + +<p>"I have come here to-day," continued Lady Upton, "because I considered +it seemly that my granddaughter's only relative should put in an +appearance at the funeral and also because I wanted you to tell me +exactly what grounds the police have for suspecting Anita."</p> + +<p>Cyril related as succinctly as possible everything which had so far come +to light. He, however, carefully omitted to mention his meeting with the +girl on the train. As the latter could not be Anita Wilmersley, he felt +that he was not called upon to inform Lady Upton of this episode.</p> + +<p>"Well!" exclaimed Lady Upton, when he had finished. "All I can say is, +that Anita is quite incapable of firing a pistol at any one, even if it +were thrust into her hand. You may not believe me, but that is because +you don't know her. I do. She hasn't the spirit of a mouse. Unless +Arthur had frightened her out of her wits, she would never have screwed +up courage to leave him, and it would be just like her to crawl away in +the night instead of walking out of the front door like a sensible +person. Bah! I have no patience with such a spineless creature! You men, +however, consider it an engaging feminine attribute for a woman to have +neither character nor sense!" Lady Upton snorted contemptuously and +glared at Cyril as if she held him personally responsible for the bad +taste of his sex.</p> + +<p>As he made no answer to her tirade, she continued after a moment more +calmly.</p> + +<p>"It seems to me highly improbable that Anita has been murdered; so I +want you to engage a decent private detective who will work only for us. +We must find her before the police do so. I take it for granted that you +will help me in this matter and that you are anxious—although, +naturally, not as anxious as I am—to prevent your cousin's widow from +being arrested."</p> + +<p>"A woman who has been treated by her husband as Arthur seems to have +treated Anita, is entitled to every consideration that her husband's +family can offer her," replied Cyril. "I am already employing a +detective and if he finds Anita I will communicate with you at once."</p> + +<p>"Good! Now remember that my granddaughter is perfectly sane; on the +other hand, I think it advisable to keep this fact a secret for the +present. Circumstantial evidence is so strongly against her that we may +have to resort to the plea of insanity to save her neck. That girl has +been a thorn in my flesh since the day she was born; but she shall not +be hanged, if I can help it," said Lady Upton, shutting her mouth with +an audible click.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h3>THE JEWELS</h3> + + +<p>As soon as the funeral was over, Cyril left Geralton. On arriving in +London he recognised several reporters at the station. Fearing that they +might follow him, he ordered his taxi to drive to the Carlton. There he +got out and walking quickly through the hotel, he made his exit by a +rear door. Having assured himself that he was not being observed, he +hailed another taxi and drove to the nursing home.</p> + +<p>"Well, Mr. Thompkins," exclaimed the doctor, with ponderous +facetiousness. "I am glad to be able to tell you that Mrs. Thompkins is +much better."</p> + +<p>"And her memory?" faltered Cyril.</p> + +<p>"It's improving. She does not yet remember people or incidents, but she +is beginning to recall certain places. For instance, I asked her +yesterday if she had been to Paris. It suggested nothing to her, but +this morning she told me with great pride that Paris was a city and that +it had a wide street with an arch at one end. So you see she is +progressing; only we must not hurry her."</p> + +<p>Cyril murmured a vague assent.</p> + +<p>"Of course," continued the doctor, "you must be very careful when you +see Lady Wilmersley to restrain your emotions, and on no account to +remind her of the immediate past. I hope and believe she will never +remember it. On the other hand, I wish you to talk about those of her +friends and relations for whom she has shown a predilection. Her memory +must be gently stimulated, but on no account excited. Quiet, quiet is +essential to her recovery."</p> + +<p>"But doctor—I must—it's frightfully important that my wife (he found +himself calling her so quite glibly) should be told of a certain fact at +once. If I wait even a day, it will be too late," urged Cyril.</p> + +<p>"And you have reason to suppose that this communication will agitate +Lady Wilmersley?"</p> + +<p>"I—I fear so."</p> + +<p>"Then I can certainly not permit it. You don't seem to realise the +delicate condition of her brain. Why, it might be fatal," insisted the +doctor.</p> + +<p>Cyril felt as if Nemesis were indeed overtaking him.</p> + +<p>"Come, we will go to her," said the doctor, moving towards the door. +"She is naturally a little nervous about seeing you, so we must not keep +her waiting."</p> + +<p>But Cyril hung back. If he could not undeceive the poor girl, how could +he enter her presence. To pose as the husband of a woman so as to enable +her to escape arrest was excusable, but to impose himself on the +credulity of an afflicted girl was absolutely revolting. If he treated +her with even the most decorous show of affection, he would be taking a +dastardly advantage of the situation. Yet if he behaved with too much +reserve, she would conclude that her husband was a heartless brute. Her +husband! The one person she had to cling to in the isolation to which +she had awakened. It was horrible! Oh, why had he ever placed her in +such an impossible position? Arrest would have been preferable. He was +sure that she could easily have proved her innocence of whatever it was +of which she was accused, and in a few days at the latest would have +gone free without a stain on her character, while now, unless by some +miracle this episode remained concealed, she was irredeemably +compromised. He was a married man; she, for aught he knew to the +contrary, might also be bound, or at all events have a fiancé or lover +waiting to claim her. How would he view the situation? How would he +receive the explanation? Cyril shuddered involuntarily. Every minute the +chances that her secret could be kept decreased. If she did not return +to her friends while it was still possible to explain or account for the +time of her absence, he feared she would never be able to return at all. +Yes, it would take a miracle to save her now!</p> + +<p>"Well, Lord Wilmersley?"</p> + +<p>Cyril started. The doctor's tone was peremptory and his piercing eyes +were fixed searchingly upon him. What excuse could he give for refusing +to meet his supposed wife? He could think of none.</p> + +<p>"I must remind you, doctor," he faltered at last, "that my wife has +lately detested me. I—I really don't think I had better see her—I—I +am so afraid my presence will send her off her head again."</p> + +<p>The doctor's upper lip grew rigid and his eyes contracted angrily.</p> + +<p>"I have already assured you that she is perfectly sane. It is essential +to her recovery that she should see somebody connected with her past +life. I cannot understand your reluctance to meet Lady Wilmersley."</p> + +<p>"I—I am only thinking of the patient," Cyril murmured feebly.</p> + +<p>"The patient is my affair," snapped the doctor.</p> + +<p>What could he do? For an instant he was again tempted to tell +Stuart-Smith the truth. He looked anxiously at the man. No, it was +impossible. There was no loophole for escape. And after all, he +reflected, if he had an opportunity of watching the girl, she might +quite unconsciously by some act, word, or even by some subtle essence of +her personality furnish him with a clue to her past. Every occupation +leaves indelible marks, although it sometimes takes keen eyes to discern +them. If the girl had been a seamstress, Cyril believed that he would be +able by observing her closely to assure himself of the fact.</p> + +<p>"Very well," he said aloud. "If you are willing to assume the +responsibility, I will go to my wife at once. But I insist on your being +present at our meeting."</p> + +<p>"Certainly, if you wish it, but it is not at all necessary, I assure +you," replied the doctor.</p> + +<p>A moment later Cyril, blushing like a schoolgirl, found himself in a +large, white-washed room. Before him on a narrow, iron bedstead lay his +mysterious <i>protégée</i>. Cyril caught his breath. He had forgotten how +beautiful she was. Her red lips were slightly parted and the colour +ebbed and flowed in her transparent cheeks. Ignoring the doctor, her +eager glance sought Cyril and for a minute the two young people gazed at +each other in silence. How young, how innocent she looked! How could any +one doubt the candour of those star like eyes, thought Cyril.</p> + +<p>"Well, Mrs. Crichton," exclaimed Stuart-Smith, "I have brought you the +husband you have been so undutiful as to forget. 'Love, honour, and +obey, and above all remember,' I suggest as an amendment to the marriage +vow."</p> + +<p>"Nurse has been reading me the marriage service," said the girl, with a +quaint mixture of pride and diffidence. "I know all about it now; I +don't think I'll forget again."</p> + +<p>"Of course not! And now that you have seen your husband, do you find +that you remember him at all?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, a little. I know that I have seen you before," she answered, +addressing Cyril.</p> + +<p>"I gather from your manner that you don't exactly dislike him, do you?" +asked the doctor with an attempt at levity. "Your husband is so modest +that he is afraid to remain in your presence till you have reassured him +on this point."</p> + +<p>"I love him very much," was her astounding answer.</p> + +<p>Cyril's heart gave a bound. Did she realise what she had said? She +certainly showed no trace of embarrassment, and although her eyes clung +persistently to his, their expression of childlike simplicity was +absolutely disarming.</p> + +<p>"Very good, very good, quite as it should be," exclaimed the doctor, +evidently a little abashed by the frankness of the girl's reply. "That +being the case, I will leave you two together to talk over old times, +although they can't be very remote. I am sure, however, that when I see +you again, you will be as full of reminiscences as an octogenarian," +chuckled the doctor as he left the room.</p> + +<p>Cyril and the girl were alone.</p> + +<p>An arm-chair had been placed near the bed, obviously for his reception, +and after a moment's hesitation he took it. The girl did not speak, but +continued to look at him unflinchingly. Cyril fancied she regarded him +with something of the unquestioning reverence a small child might have +for a beloved parent. His eyes sank before hers. Never had he felt so +unworthy, so positively guilty. He racked his brains for something to +say, but the doctor's restrictions seemed to bar every topic which +suggested itself to him. If he only knew who she was! He glanced at her +furtively. In the dim light of the shaded lamp he had not noticed that +what he had supposed was her hair, was in reality a piece of black lace +bound turbanwise about her head.</p> + +<p>"What are you wearing that bandage for?" he inquired eagerly. "Was your +head hurt—my dear?" he added diffidently.</p> + +<p>"No—I—I hope you won't be angry—nurse said you would—but I couldn't +help it. I really had to cut it off."</p> + +<p>"Cut what off?"</p> + +<p>"My hair." She hung her head as a naughty child might have done.</p> + +<p>"You cut off your hair? But why?" His voice sounded suddenly harsh. +Strange that her first act had been to destroy one of the few things by +which she could be identified. Was she as innocent as she seemed? Had +she fooled them all, even the doctor? This amnesia, or whatever it was +called, was it real, was it assumed? He wondered.</p> + +<p>"Oh, husband, I know it was wrong; but when I woke up and couldn't +remember anything, I was so frightened, and then nurse brought me a +looking-glass and the face I saw was so strange! Oh, it was so lonely +without even myself! And then nurse said it was my hair. She said it +sometimes happened when people have had a great shock or been very ill +and so—I made her cut it off. She didn't want to—it wasn't her +fault—I made her do it."</p> + +<p>"But what had happened to your hair?"</p> + +<p>"It had turned quite white, most of it." The girl shuddered. "Oh, it was +horrid! I am sure you would not have liked it."</p> + +<p>Cyril, looking into her limpid eyes, felt his sudden suspicions unworthy +of him.</p> + +<p>"You must grow a nice new crop of black curls, if you want to appease +me," he answered.</p> + +<p>"Oh, do you like black hair?" Her disappointment was obvious.</p> + +<p>"Yes, don't you? Your hair was black before your illness."</p> + +<p>"I know it was—but I hate it! At all events, as long as I must wear a +wig, I should like to have a nice yellow one; nurse tells me I can get +them quite easily."</p> + +<p>"Dear me! But I don't think a wig nice at all."</p> + +<p>"Don't you?" Her mouth drooped at the corners. She seemed on the verge +of tears.</p> + +<p>What an extraordinary child! he thought. But she mustn't cry—anything +rather than that.</p> + +<p>"My dear, if you want a wig, you shall have one immediately. Tell your +nurse to send to the nearest hairdresser for an assortment from which +you can make your choice."</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you, thank you," she cried, clapping her hands. Her hands! +Cyril had forgotten them for the moment, and it was through them that he +had hoped to establish her identity. He looked at them searchingly. No +ring encircled the wedding finger, nor did it show the depression which +the constant wearing of one invariably leaves. The girl was evidently +unmarried. Those long, slender, well-kept hands certainly did not look +as if they could belong to a servant, but he reflected that a +seamstress' work was not of a nature to spoil them. Only the forefinger +of her left hand would probably bear traces of needle pricks. He leaned +eagerly forward.</p> + +<p>"What are you looking at?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"At your hands, my dear," he tried to speak lightly.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter with them?" She held them out for his inspection. +Yes, it was as he had expected—her forefinger was rough. She was +Priscilla Prentice. Everything had fore-warned him of this conclusion, +yet in his heart of hearts he had not believed it possible till this +moment.</p> + +<p>"Don't you like my hands?" she asked, as she regarded them with anxious +scrutiny, evidently trying to discover why they failed to find favour in +the sight of her lord.</p> + +<p>"They are—" He checked himself; he had almost added—the prettiest +hands in the world; but he mustn't say such things to her, not under the +circumstances. "They are very pretty, only you have sewn so much that +you have quite spoiled one little finger."</p> + +<p>"Sewn?" She seemed struck with the idea. "Sew? I should like to sew. I +know I can."</p> + +<p>Further proof of her identity, if he needed it.</p> + +<p>"Well, you must get nurse to find you something on which to exercise +your talents—only you must be careful not to prick yourself so much in +future."</p> + +<p>"I will try, husband," she answered meekly, as she gazed solemnly at the +offending finger.</p> + +<p>There was a pause.</p> + +<p>"Do tell me something about my past life," said she. "I have been lying +here wondering and wondering."</p> + +<p>"What do you want to know?"</p> + +<p>"Everything. In the first place, are my parents living? Oh, I hope so!"</p> + +<p>Here was a poser. Cyril had no idea whether her parents were alive or +not, but even if they were, it would be impossible to communicate with +them for the present, so he had better set her mind at rest by denying +their existence.</p> + +<p>"No, my dear, you are an orphan, and you have neither brothers nor +sisters," he added hastily. It was just as well to put a final stop to +questions as to her family.</p> + +<p>"Nobody of my own—nobody?"</p> + +<p>"Nobody," he reiterated, but he felt like a brute.</p> + +<p>"Have I any children?" was her next question.</p> + +<p>Cyril started perceptibly.</p> + +<p>"No, no, certainly not," he was so embarrassed that he spoke quite +sharply.</p> + +<p>"Oh, are you glad?" She stared at him in amazement and to his disgust +Cyril felt himself turning crimson.</p> + +<p>"Now I'm sorry," she continued with a soft sigh. "I wish I had a baby. I +remember about babies."</p> + +<p>"I—I like them, too," he hastened to assure her. Really this was worse +than he had expected.</p> + +<p>"How long have we been married?" she demanded.</p> + +<p>"I have been married four years," he truthfully answered, hoping that +that statement would satisfy her.</p> + +<p>"Fancy! We have been living together for four years! Isn't it awful that +I can only remember you the very weeist little bit! But I will love, +honour, and obey you—now that I know—I will indeed."</p> + +<p>"I am sure you will always do what is right," said Cyril with a sudden +tightening of his throat. She looked so young, so innocent, so serious. +Oh, if only——</p> + +<p>"Bah, don't waste too much love on me. I'm an unworthy beggar," he said +aloud.</p> + +<p>"You are an unworthy husband? Oh!" She opened her eyes wide and stared +at him in consternation. "But it doesn't say anything in the prayer-book +about not loving unworthy husbands. I don't believe it makes any +difference to the vow before God. Besides you don't look unworthy—are +you sure you are?" she pleaded.</p> + +<p>Cyril's eyes fell before her agonised gaze.</p> + +<p>"I'll try to be worthy of you," he stammered.</p> + +<p>"Worthy of me?" she cried with a gay, little laugh. "I'm too silly and +stupid now to be anything but a burden—I quite realise that—but the +doctor thinks I will get better and in the meantime I will try to please +you and do my duty."</p> + +<p>Poor baby, thought Cyril, the marriage vows she imagined she had taken +seemed to weigh dreadfully on her conscience. Oh, if he could only +undeceive her!</p> + +<p>A discreet knock sounded at the door.</p> + +<p>The nurse made her appearance.</p> + +<p>"The doctor thinks Mrs. Thompkins has talked enough for the present," +she said.</p> + +<p>Cyril rose with a curious mixture of relief and reluctance.</p> + +<p>"Well, this must be good-bye for to-day," he said, taking her small hand +in his.</p> + +<p>She lifted up her face—simply as a child might have done. Slowly he +leaned nearer to her, his heart was pounding furiously; the blood rushed +to his temples.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he started back! He must not—he dare not——!</p> + +<p>For a moment he crushed her fingers to his lips; then turning abruptly, +he strode towards the door.</p> + +<p>"You'll come to-morrow, won't you?" she cried.</p> + +<p>"Yes, to-morrow," he answered.</p> + +<p>"Early?"</p> + +<p>"As early as I can."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, husband. I will be so lonely without you," she called after +him, but he resolutely closed the door.</p> + +<p>At the foot of the stairs a nurse was waiting for him.</p> + +<p>"The doctor would like to speak to you for a moment," she said as she +led the way to the consulting-room.</p> + +<p>"Well, how did you find Lady Wilmersley's memory; were you able to help +her in any way to recall the past," inquired the doctor.</p> + +<p>Cyril was too preoccupied to notice that the other's manner was several +degrees colder than it had been on his arrival.</p> + +<p>"I fear not." Cyril felt guiltily conscious that he was prevaricating.</p> + +<p>"You astonish me. I confess I am disappointed. Yes, very much so. But it +will come back to her—I am sure it will."</p> + +<p>"I say, doctor, how long do you think my wife will have to remain here?"</p> + +<p>"No longer than she wishes to. She could be moved to-morrow, if +necessary, but I advise waiting till the day after."</p> + +<p>"You are sure it won't hurt her?" insisted Cyril anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Quite. In fact, the sooner Lady Wilmersley resumes her normal life the +better."</p> + +<p>"How soon will I be able to talk freely to her?" Cyril asked.</p> + +<p>"That depends largely on how she progresses, but not before a month at +the earliest. By the way, Lord Wilmersley, I want you to take charge of +Lady Wilmersley's bag. The contents were too valuable to be left about; +so after taking out her toilet articles, the nurse brought it to me."</p> + +<p>"Ah! and—and what was in the bag?" asked Cyril fearfully.</p> + +<p>"Lady Wilmersley's jewels, of course."</p> + +<p>Jewels! This was terrible. If they were those belonging to his cousin, +their description had been published in every paper in the kingdom. It +was a miracle that Smith had not recognised them.</p> + +<p>"Of course," Cyril managed to stammer.</p> + +<p>The doctor went to a safe and taking out a cheap, black bag handed it to +Cyril.</p> + +<p>"I should like you, please, to see if they are all there," he said.</p> + +<p>"That isn't the least necessary," Cyril hastened to assure him.</p> + +<p>"You would greatly oblige me by doing so."</p> + +<p>"I'm quite sure they are all right; besides if any are missing, they +were probably stolen in Paris," said Cyril.</p> + +<p>"But I insist." Stuart-Smith was nothing if not persistent. His keen +eyes had noted Cyril's agitation and his reluctance to open the bag made +the doctor all the more determined to force him to do so.</p> + +<p>But Cyril was too quick for him. Seizing the bag, he made for the door.</p> + +<p>"I'll come back to-morrow," he cried over his shoulder, as he hurried +unceremoniously out of the room and out of the house.</p> + +<p>A disreputable-looking man stood at the door of his waiting taxi and +obsequiously opened it. Shouting his address to the driver, Cyril flung +himself into the car and waved the beggar impatiently away.</p> + +<p>No sooner were they in motion than Cyril hastened to open the bag. A +brown paper parcel lay at the bottom of it. He undid the string with +trembling fingers. Yes, it was as he feared—a part, if not all, of the +Wilmersley jewels lay before him.</p> + +<p>"Give me a penny, for the love of Gawd," begged a hoarse voice at his +elbow. The beggar was still clinging to the step and his villainous face +was within a foot of the jewels.</p> + +<p>Cyril felt himself grow cold with apprehension. The fellow knew who he +was, and followed him. He was a detective!</p> + +<p>"A gen'lman like you could well spare a poor man a penny," the fellow +whined, but there was a note of menace in his voice. Cyril tried to get +a good look at him, but the light was too dim for him to distinguish his +features clearly.</p> + +<p>Hastily covering the jewels, Cyril thrust a coin into the grimy hand.</p> + +<p>"Go!" he commanded, "go, or I'll call the police."</p> + +<p>The man sank out of sight.</p> + +<p>"My poor little girl, my poor little girl," murmured Cyril +disconsolately, as he glanced once more at the incriminating jewels.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h3>THE TWO FRENCHMEN</h3> + + +<p>"You must be mad, Cyril! No sane man could have got into such a mess!" +cried Guy Campbell, excitedly pounding his fat knee with his podgy hand.</p> + +<p>Cyril had been so disturbed by the finding of the Wilmersley jewels that +he had at last decided that he must confide his troubles to some one. He +realised that the time had come when he needed not only advice but +assistance. He was now so convinced that he was being watched that he +had fled to his club for safety. There, at all events, he felt +comparatively safe from prying eyes, and it was there in a secluded +corner that he poured his tale of woe into his friend's astonished ears.</p> + +<p>"You must be mad," the latter repeated.</p> + +<p>"If that is all you can find to say, I am sorry I told you," exclaimed +Cyril irritably.</p> + +<p>"It's a jolly good thing you did! Why, you are no more fit to take care +of yourself than a new-born baby." Guy's chubby face expressed such +genuine concern that Cyril relaxed a little.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I've been a bit of an ass, but really I don't see what else I +could have done."</p> + +<p>"No, don't suppose you do," said Guy, regarding Cyril with pitying +admiration.</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't rub it in! The question now is not what I ought to have done, +but what am I to do now?"</p> + +<p>"What do you intend to do?"</p> + +<p>"I haven't the slightest idea. I want your advice."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, you don't! Why, you wouldn't even listen to a sensible +suggestion."</p> + +<p>"What do you call a sensible suggestion?" Cyril cautiously inquired.</p> + +<p>"To get the girl out of the nursing home and lose her. And it ought to +be done P. D. Q., as the Americans say."</p> + +<p>"I shall certainly do nothing of the sort."</p> + +<p>"Exactly," cried Campbell triumphantly. "I know you, Lord Quixote; you +have some crazy plan in your head. Out with it."</p> + +<p>"I haven't a plan, I tell you. Now as I am being followed——"</p> + +<p>"I can't believe you are," interrupted Guy.</p> + +<p>"I feel sure that that beggar I told you about was a detective."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"He was evidently waiting for me and I couldn't shake him off till he +had had a good look at the jewels."</p> + +<p>"It is much more likely that he was waiting for a penny than for you, +and beggars are usually persistent. I see no possible reason why the +police should be shadowing you. It is your guilty conscience that makes +you so suspicious."</p> + +<p>"You may be right; I certainly hope you are, but till I am sure of it, I +don't dare to run the risk of being seen with Miss Prentice. As she is +in no condition to go about alone, I have been worrying a good deal as +to how to get her out of the Home; so I thought—it occurred to +me—that—you are the person to do it."</p> + +<p>"Thanks, awfully! So you leave me the pleasant task of running off with +a servant-girl who is 'wanted' by the police! You are really too +unselfish!"</p> + +<p>"Miss Prentice is a lady," Cyril angrily asserted.</p> + +<p>"H'm," Campbell ejaculated skeptically. "That she is a beauty I do not +doubt, and she has certainly played her cards very skilfully."</p> + +<p>"Don't you dare to speak of her like that," cried Cyril, clenching his +fists and half starting to his feet.</p> + +<p>"By Jove, old man! You're smitten with her," exclaimed Campbell, staring +aghast at his friend.</p> + +<p>Cyril flushed darkly under his tan.</p> + +<p>"Certainly not, but I have the greatest respect for this unfortunate +young woman, and don't you forget it again."</p> + +<p>Campbell smiled incredulously.</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well! Believe what you like, but I didn't think you were the +sort of man who never credits a fellow with disinterested motives, if he +behaves half-way decently to a woman."</p> + +<p>"Steady now, Cyril. Don't let's quarrel. You mustn't take offence so +easily. I have never seen the young lady, remember. And you know I will +help you even against my better judgment."</p> + +<p>"You're a good chap, Guy."</p> + +<p>"Thanks! Now let us first of all consider Miss Prentice's case +dispassionately. I want to be sure of my facts; then I may be able to +form some conjecture as to why Wilmersley was murdered and how the +jewels came into Miss Prentice's possession. You tell me that it has +been proved that she really left Geralton on the afternoon before the +murder?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; the carrier swears he drove her into Newhaven and put her down +near the station. Further than that they have luckily not been able to +trace her."</p> + +<p>"Now your idea is that Miss Prentice, having in some way managed to +secure a car, returned to Geralton that evening and got into the castle +through the library window?"</p> + +<p>"No, I doubt if she entered the castle. I can think of no reason why she +should have done so," said Cyril.</p> + +<p>"In that case, how do you account for her injuries? Who could have +flogged her except your charming cousin?"</p> + +<p>"I hadn't thought of that!" exclaimed Cyril.</p> + +<p>"Granting that she is Priscilla Prentice, the only hypothesis I can +think of which explains her predicament is this: Having planned to +rescue her mistress, she was only waiting for a favourable opportunity +to present itself. The doctor's visit determined her to act at once. I +agree with you that to re-enter Geralton was not her original intention, +but while waiting under the library window for Lady Wilmersley to join +her, she hears Wilmersley ill-treating his wife, so she climbs in and +rushes to the latter's assistance."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," assented Cyril with shining eyes.</p> + +<p>"But she is overpowered by Wilmersley," continued Campbell, warming to +his theme, "who, insane with rage, flogs her unmercifully. Then Lady +Wilmersley, fearing the girl will be killed, seizes the pistol, which is +lying on the desk, and fires at her husband——"</p> + +<p>"I am convinced that that is just what happened," cried Cyril.</p> + +<p>"Don't be too sure of it; still, it seems to me that that theory hangs +together pretty well," Campbell complacently agreed. "Of course, neither +woman contemplated murder. Wilmersley's death completely unnerved them. +If the gardener's wife heard a cry coming from the car, it is possible +that one or the other had an attack of hysterics. Now about the +jewels—I believe Miss Prentice took charge of them, either because Lady +Wilmersley was unfit to assume such a responsibility or because they +agreed that she could the more easily dispose of them. I think that Miss +Prentice's hurried trip to town was undertaken not in order to avoid +arrest, but primarily to raise money, of which they must have had great +need, and possibly also to rejoin her mistress, who, now that we know +that she made her escape in a car, is probably hiding somewhere either +in London itself or in its vicinity."</p> + +<p>"Guy, you are a wonder. You have thought of everything," cried Cyril +admiringly.</p> + +<p>"Of course, I may be quite wrong. These are only suppositions, +remember," Campbell modestly reminded him. "By the way, what have you +done with the jewels? I can't believe that you are in any danger of +arrest, but if there is the remotest chance of such a thing, it wouldn't +look very well if they were found in your possession."</p> + +<p>"I had thought of that. I was even afraid that my rooms might be +searched in my absence, so I took them with me."</p> + +<p>"They are here?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, in my pocket. I have hidden the bag and to-night I mean to burn +it."</p> + +<p>"Your pocket is not a very safe repository."</p> + +<p>"Exactly. That is why I want you to take charge of them," said Cyril.</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well," sighed Campbell, with mock resignation. "In for a +penny, in for a pound. I shall probably end by being arrested as a +receiver of stolen property! But now we must consider what we had better +do with Miss Prentice."</p> + +<p>"I think I shall hire a cottage in the country for her."</p> + +<p>"If you did that, the police would find her immediately. The only safe +hiding-place is a crowd."</p> + +<p>"You think so?" Cyril looked doubtful.</p> + +<p>"I am sure of it. Now let me see: Where is she least likely to attract +attention? It must be a place where you could manage to see her without +being compromised, and, if possible, without being observed. I have it! +A hotel. The Hotel George is the very place. In a huge caravansary like +that all sorts and conditions of people jostle each other without +exciting comment. Besides, the police are less likely to look among the +guests of such an expensive hotel for a poor maid servant or in such a +public resort for a fugitive from justice."</p> + +<p>"You are right!" cried Cyril enthusiastically.</p> + +<p>"But in her present condition," continued Campbell, "I don't see how she +could remain there alone."</p> + +<p>"Certainly not. She must have some woman with her."</p> + +<p>"Exactly. But what trustworthy woman could you get to undertake such a +task? Perhaps one of the nurses——"</p> + +<p>"No," Cyril hastily interrupted him. "When she leaves the nursing home, +all trace of her must be lost. At any moment the police may discover +that a woman whom I have represented to be my wife has been a patient +there. That will naturally arouse their suspicions and they will do +their utmost to discover who it is that I am protecting with my name. +No, a nurse would never do. For one thing, she would feel called upon to +report to the doctor."</p> + +<p>"You might bribe her not to do so," suggested Guy.</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't dare to trust to an absolutely unknown quantity. Oh, if I +only knew a respectable woman on whom I could rely! I would pay her a +small fortune for her services."</p> + +<p>"I know somebody who might do," said Campbell. "Her name is Miss Trevor +and she used to be my sister's governess. She is too old to teach now +and I fancy has a hard time to make both ends meet. The only trouble is +that she is so conscientious that she would rather starve than be mixed +up in anything she did not consider perfectly honourable and above +board. If I told her that she was to chaperon a young lady whom the +police were looking for, she would be so indignant that I doubt if she +would ever speak to me again."</p> + +<p>"Why tell her?" insinuated Cyril.</p> + +<p>"It doesn't seem decent to inveigle her by false representations into +taking a position which she would never dream of accepting if she knew +the truth."</p> + +<p>"I will pay her £200 a year as long as she lives, if she will look after +Miss Prentice till this trouble is over. Even if the worst happens and +the girl is discovered, she can truthfully plead ignorance of the +latter's identity," urged Cyril.</p> + +<p>"True, and two hundred a year is good pay even for unpleasant notoriety. +Yes, on the whole I think I am justified in accepting the offer for her. +But now we must consider what fairy tale we are going to concoct for her +benefit."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know," sighed Cyril wearily.</p> + +<p>"Imagination giving out, or conscience awakening—which is it?" asked +Guy.</p> + +<p>"Don't chaff!"</p> + +<p>"Sorry, old man; but joking aside, we must really decide what we are to +tell Miss Trevor. You can no longer pose as Miss Prentice's husband——"</p> + +<p>"Why not?" interrupted Cyril sharply.</p> + +<p>"What possible excuse have you for doing so, now that she is to leave +the doctor's care?"</p> + +<p>"I am sure it would have a very bad effect on Miss Prentice's health, if +I were to tell her that she is not my wife."</p> + +<p>"H'm, h'm!" Campbell regarded his friend quizzically.</p> + +<p>"Remember, she is completely cut off from the past," urged Cyril; "she +has neither friend nor relation to cling to. I am the one person in the +world she believes she has a claim on. I can't undeceive her. Besides, +the doctor's orders are that she shall not be in any way agitated."</p> + +<p>"Well, that settles that question. Now what explanation will you give +Miss Trevor for not living with your wife?"</p> + +<p>"I shall say that her state of health renders it inadvisable for the +present."</p> + +<p>"What shall she be called?" asked Campbell.</p> + +<p>"I think we had better stick to Thompkins. She is accustomed to that. +Only we will spell it Tomkyns and change the Christian name to John."</p> + +<p>"But won't she confide what she believes to be her real name to Miss +Trevor?" asked Guy anxiously.</p> + +<p>"I think not—not if I tell her I don't wish her to do so. She has a +great idea of wifely obedience, I assure you."</p> + +<p>"Well," laughed Guy, "that is a virtue which so few real wives possess +that it seems a pity it should be wasted on a temporary one. And now, +Cyril, we must decide on the best way and the best time for transferring +Miss Prentice to the hotel."</p> + +<p>"Unless something unexpected occurs to change our plans, I think she had +better be moved the day after to-morrow. I advise your starting as early +as possible before the world is well awake. But I leave all details to +you. You are quite capable of managing the situation. Only be sure you +are not followed, that is all I ask."</p> + +<p>"I don't expect we shall be, but if we are, I think I can promise to +outwit them," Campbell assured him.</p> + +<p>"I shall never forget what you are doing for me, Guy."</p> + +<p>"You had better not. I expect you to erect a monument commemorating my +virtues and my folly. Now I must be off. Where are those stolen goods of +which I am to become the custodian?"</p> + +<p>"Here they are. I have done them up in several parcels, so that they are +not too bulky to carry. As I don't want the police to know how intimate +we are, it is better that we should not be seen together in public for +the present."</p> + +<p>"I think you are over-cautious. But perhaps," agreed Campbell, "we might +as well meet here till all danger is over."</p> + +<p>A few minutes later Cyril also left the club. His talk with Campbell had +been a great relief to him. As he walked briskly along, he felt +calm—almost cheerful.</p> + +<p>"Isn't this Lord Wilmersley?" inquired a deep voice at his elbow.</p> + +<p>Turning quickly Cyril recognised Inspector Griggs.</p> + +<p>For a moment Cyril was too startled to speak. Then, pulling himself +together, he exclaimed with an attempt at heartiness:</p> + +<p>"Why, Inspector! I thought you were in Newhaven. What has brought you to +town?"</p> + +<p>"I only left Newhaven this afternoon, but I think my work there is +finished—for the present at least."</p> + +<p>"Really? Have you already solved the mystery?"</p> + +<p>"No indeed, but the clue now leads away from Geralton."</p> + +<p>"Clue? What clue?" Cyril found it difficult to control the tremor in his +voice.</p> + +<p>"If you'll excuse me, my lord, I had better keep my suppositions to +myself till I am able to verify them."</p> + +<p>The man suspected him! But why? What had he discovered? Cyril felt he +could not let him go before he had ascertained exactly what he had to +fear. It was so awful, this fighting in the dark.</p> + +<p>"If you have half an hour to spare, come to my rooms. They are only a +few doors away." Cyril was convinced that the Inspector knew where he +was staying and had been lying in wait for him. He thought it best to +pretend that he felt above suspicion.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, my lord."</p> + +<p>A few minutes later they were sitting before a blazing fire, the +Inspector puffing luxuriously at a cigar and sipping from time to time a +glass of whiskey and soda which Peter had reluctantly placed at his +elbow. Peter, as he himself would have put it, "did not hold with the +police," and thought his master was sadly demeaning himself by +fraternising with a member of that calling.</p> + +<p>"I quite understand your reluctance to talk about a case," said Cyril, +reverting at once to the subject he had in mind; "but as this one so +nearly concerns my family and consequently myself, I think I have a +right to your confidence. I am most anxious to know what you have +discovered. This mystery is weighing on me. I assure you, you can rely +on my discretion."</p> + +<p>"Well, my lord, it's a bit unprofessional, but seeing it's you, I don't +mind if I do. It's the newspaper men, I am afraid of."</p> + +<p>"I shall not mention what you tell me to any one except possibly to one +friend," Cyril hastily assured him.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, my lord. You see I may be all wrong, so I don't want to say +too much till I can prove my case."</p> + +<p>"I understand that," said Cyril; "and this clue that you are +following—what is it?" he inquired with breathless impatience.</p> + +<p>"The car, my lord," answered the Inspector, settling himself deeper in +his chair, while his eyes began to gleam with suppressed excitement.</p> + +<p>"You have found the car in which her ladyship made her escape?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know about that yet, but I have found the car that stood at the +foot of the long lane on the night of the murder."</p> + +<p>"Remarkable!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's not so very wonderful," protested the Inspector with an +attempt at modesty, but he was evidently bursting with pride in his +achievement.</p> + +<p>"How did you do it? What had you to go on?" asked Cyril with genuine +amazement.</p> + +<p>"I began my search by trying to find out what cars had been seen in the +neighbourhood of Geralton on the night of the murder—by neighbourhood I +mean a radius of twenty-five miles. I found, as I expected, that +half-past eleven not being a favourite hour for motoring, comparatively +few had been seen or heard. Most of these turned out to be the property +of gentlemen who had no difficulty in proving that they had been used +only for perfectly legitimate purposes. There remained, however, two +cars of which I failed to get a satisfactory account. One belongs to a +Mr. Benedict, a young man who owns a place about ten miles from +Geralton, and who seems to have spent the evening motoring wildly over +the country. He pretends he had no particular object, and as he is a bit +queer, it may be true. The other car is the property of the landlord of +the Red Lion Inn, a very respectable hotel in Newhaven. I then sent two +of my men to examine these cars and report if either of them has a new +tire, for the gardener's wife swore that the car she heard had burst +one. Mr. Benedict's tires all showed signs of wear, but the Red Lion car +has a brand new one!"</p> + +<p>"Bravo! That is a fine piece of work."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that is nothing," replied the Inspector, vainly trying to suppress +a self-satisfied smile.</p> + +<p>"Did you find any further evidence against this hotel-keeper? What +connection had he with the castle?" inquired Cyril.</p> + +<p>"He knew Lord Wilmersley slightly, but says he has never even seen her +Ladyship. And I am inclined to believe him."</p> + +<p>"In that case what part does he play in the affair?"</p> + +<p>"None, I fancy. You see he keeps the car for the convenience of his +guests and on the day in question it had been hired by two young +Frenchmen, who were out in it from two o'clock till midnight."</p> + +<p>"Frenchmen! But how could they have had anything to do with the +tragedy?"</p> + +<p>"That remains to be seen. So far all I have been able to find out about +these two men is that they landed in Newhaven ten days before the +murder. They professed to be brothers and called themselves Joseph and +Paul Durand. They seemed to be amply provided with money and wanted the +best the hotel had to offer. Joseph Durand appeared a decent sort of +fellow, but the younger one drank. The waiters fancy that the elder man +used to remonstrate with him occasionally, but the youngster paid very +little attention to him."</p> + +<p>"You say they <i>professed</i> to be brothers. Why do you doubt their +relationship?"</p> + +<p>"For one reason, the elder one did not understand a word of English, +while the young one spoke it quite easily, although with a strong +accent. That is, he spoke it with a strong accent when he was sober, but +when under the influence of liquor this accent disappeared."</p> + +<p>"And what has become of the pair?"</p> + +<p>"They left Newhaven the morning after the murder. Their departure was +very hurried, and the landlord is sure that the day before they had no +intention of leaving."</p> + +<p>"Where did they go to?"</p> + +<p>"They took the boat to Dieppe. The porter saw them off."</p> + +<p>"Have you been able to trace them farther?"</p> + +<p>"Not yet, my lord, but I have sent one of my men to try and follow them +up, and I have notified the continental police to be on the look-out for +them. It's a pity that they have three days' start of us."</p> + +<p>"But as you have an accurate description of both, I should imagine that +they will soon be found."</p> + +<p>"It's through the young 'un they'll be caught, if they are caught."</p> + +<p>"Why, is he deformed in any way?"</p> + +<p>"No, my lord, but they tell me he is abnormally small for a man of his +age, for he must be twenty-two or three at the very least. The landlord +believes that he is a jockey who had got into bad habits, and that the +elder man is his trainer or backer. Of course, he may be right, but the +waiters pooh-pooh the idea. They insist that the boy is a gentleman-born +and servants are pretty good judges of such things, though you mightn't +think it, my lord."</p> + +<p>"I can quite believe it," assented Cyril. "But then there are many +gentlemen jockeys."</p> + +<p>"So there are. I only wish I had seen the little fellow, for they all +agree that there was something about him which would make it impossible +for any one who had once met him ever to forget him again."</p> + +<p>"That certainly is a most unusual quality."</p> + +<p>"So it is, my lord. They also tell me that if his eyes had not been so +bloodshot, and if he had not looked so drawn and haggard, he'd have been +an extraordinarily good-looking chap."</p> + +<p>"Really?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. It seems that he has large blue eyes, a fine little nose, not a +bit red as you would expect, and as pretty a mouth as ever you'd see. +His hair is auburn and he wears it rather long, which I don't think he'd +do if he were a jockey. Besides, his skin is as fine as a baby's, though +its colour is a grey-white with only a spot of red in the middle of each +cheek."</p> + +<p>"He must be a queer-looking beggar!"</p> + +<p>"That's just it. That's why I think we shall soon spot him."</p> + +<p>"What did the elder Durand look like?"</p> + +<p>"The ordinary type of Frenchman. He is about twenty-eight years old, +medium height, and inclined to be stout. He has dark hair, a little thin +at the temples, dark moustache, and dark eyes. His features are +nondescript."</p> + +<p>"On the night of the murder you say they returned to the hotel at about +midnight?"</p> + +<p>"Somewhere around then."</p> + +<p>"Was their behaviour in any way noticeable?"</p> + +<p>"The porter was so sleepy that he can't remember much about it. He had +an impression that they came in arm in arm and went quietly upstairs."</p> + +<p>"They were alone?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly."</p> + +<p>"But what do you think they had done with Lady Wilmersley?"</p> + +<p>"But, my lord, you didn't expect that they would bring her to the hotel, +did you? If they were her friends, their first care would be for her +safety. If they were not—well, we will have to look for another victim, +that is all."</p> + +<p>"You think that there is that possibility?" inquired Cyril eagerly.</p> + +<p>"I do, my lord." The Inspector rose ponderously to his feet. "I mustn't +keep you any longer." He hesitated a moment, eyeing Cyril doubtfully. +There was evidently still something he wished to say.</p> + +<p>Cyril had also risen to his feet and stood leaning against the +mantelpiece, idly wondering at the man's embarrassment.</p> + +<p>"I trust her Ladyship has quite recovered?" the Inspector finally +blurted out.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h3>THE INSPECTOR INTERVIEWS CYRIL</h3> + + +<p>Cyril felt the muscles of his face stiffen. He had for days been +dreading some such question, yet now that it had finally come, it had +found him completely unprepared. He must parry it if he could. He must +fight for her till the last ditch.</p> + +<p>But how devilishly clever of Griggs to have deferred his attack until he +was able to catch his adversary off his guard! Cyril looked keenly but, +he hoped, calmly at the Inspector. Their eyes met, but without the clash +which Cyril had expected. The man's expression, although searching, was +not hostile; in fact, there was something almost apologetic about his +whole attitude. Griggs was not sure of his ground, that much was +obvious. He knew something, he probably suspected more, but there was +still a chance that he might be led away from the trail.</p> + +<p>Cyril's mind worked with feverish rapidity. He realised that it was +imperative that his manner should appear perfectly natural. But how +would an innocent man behave? He must first decide what his position, +viewed from Griggs's standpoint, really was. He must have a definite +conception of his part before he attempted to act it.</p> + +<p>The Inspector evidently knew that a young woman, who bore Cyril's name, +had been taken ill on the Newhaven train. He was no doubt also aware +that she was now under the care of Dr. Stuart-Smith. But if the +Inspector really believed the girl to be his wife, these facts were in +no way incriminating. Yet the man smelt a rat! He must, therefore, know +more of the truth. No, for if he had discovered that the girl was not +Lady Wilmersley, Cyril was sure that Griggs would not have broached the +subject so tentatively. What then had aroused the man's suspicions? Ah, +he had it! He had told every one who inquired about his wife that she +was still on the continent. Peter, also, obeying his orders, had +repeated the same story in the servants' hall. And, of course, Griggs +knew that they were both lying. No wonder he was suspicious!</p> + +<p>"She is much better, thank you. But how did you hear of her illness? I +have not mentioned it to any one." Cyril flattered himself that his +voice had exactly the right note of slightly displeased surprise. He +watched the Inspector breathlessly. Had he said the right thing? Yes, +for Griggs's expression relaxed and he answered with a smile that was +almost deprecating:</p> + +<p>"I, of course, saw the report of the man who searched the train, and I +was naturally surprised to find that the only lady who had taken her +ticket in Newhaven was Mrs. Cyril Crichton. In a case like this we have +to verify everything, so when I discovered that the gentleman who was +with her, was undoubtedly your Lordship, it puzzled me a good deal why +both you and your valet should be so anxious to keep her Ladyship's +presence in England a secret."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, it must have astonished you, and I confess I am very sorry +you found me out," said Cyril. He had his cue now. The old lie must be +told once more. "Her Ladyship is suffering from a—a nervous affection." +He hesitated purposely. "In fact—she has just left an insane asylum," +he finally blurted out.</p> + +<p>"You mean that the present Lady Wilmersley—not the Dowager—?" The +Inspector was too surprised to finish his sentence.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it's queer, isn't it, that both should be afflicted in the same +way," agreed Cyril, calmly lighting a cigarette.</p> + +<p>"Most remarkable," ejaculated Griggs, staring fixedly at Cyril.</p> + +<p>"As the doctors believe that her Ladyship will completely recover, I +didn't want any one to know that she had ever been unbalanced. But I +might have known that it was bound to leak out."</p> + +<p>"We are no gossips, my lord; I shall not mention what you have told me +to any one."</p> + +<p>"Thanks. But if the whole police department——?"</p> + +<p>"They have got too much to do, to bother about what doesn't concern +them. I don't believe a dozen of them noticed that in searching the +train for one Lady Wilmersley, they had inadvertently stumbled on +another, and as the latter had nothing to do with their case, they +probably dismissed the whole thing from their minds. I know them!"</p> + +<p>"But you—" suggested Cyril.</p> + +<p>"Well, you see, it's different with me. It's the business of my men to +bring me isolated facts, but I have to take a larger view of +the—the—the—ah—possibilities. I have got to think of +everything—suspect every one."</p> + +<p>"Even me?" asked Cyril quickly.</p> + +<p>"Your Lordship would have no difficulty in proving an alibi."</p> + +<p>"So you took the trouble to find that out?"</p> + +<p>"Of course, my lord."</p> + +<p>"But why? I should really like to know what could have led you to +suspect me?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't suspect you, my lord. I only thought of you. You see, Lady +Wilmersley must have had an accomplice and you must acknowledge that it +was a strange coincidence that your Lordship should have happened to +pass through Newhaven at that particular moment, especially as the +Newhaven route is not very popular with people of your means."</p> + +<p>"Quite so. As a matter of fact, I had no intention of taking it, but I +missed the Calais train."</p> + +<p>"I see," Griggs nodded his head as if the explanation fully satisfied +him. "Would you mind, my lord," he continued after a brief pause, "if, +now that we are on the subject, I asked you a few questions? There are +several points which are bothering me. Of course, don't answer, if you +had rather not."</p> + +<p>"You mean if my answers are likely to incriminate me. Well, I don't +think they will, so fire ahead," drawled Cyril, trying to express by his +manner a slight weariness of the topic.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, my lord." Griggs looked a trifle abashed, but he persisted. +"I have been wondering how it was that you met her Ladyship in Newhaven, +if you had no previous intention of taking that route?"</p> + +<p>Cyril was ready with his answer.</p> + +<p>"It was quite accidental. The fact is, her Ladyship escaped from an +asylum near Fontainebleau over a fortnight ago. I scoured France for her +but finally gave up the search, and leaving the French detectives to +follow up any clue that might turn up, I decided almost on the spur of +the moment to run over to England. I was never more astonished than when +I found her on the train."</p> + +<p>"Why had she gone to Newhaven?" asked Griggs.</p> + +<p>"I have no idea."</p> + +<p>"Nor how long she stayed there?"</p> + +<p>"No. She was rather excited and I asked no questions."</p> + +<p>"Had she ever before visited Newhaven to your knowledge?"</p> + +<p>"Never."</p> + +<p>"Then she did not know the late Lord Wilmersley?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Was there any reason for this?" inquired the detective, looking keenly +at Cyril.</p> + +<p>"I was never very friendly with my cousin, and we sailed for South +Africa immediately after our marriage. Neither of us has been home since +then."</p> + +<p>"I must find out where she spent the night of the murder," murmured the +Inspector. He seemed to have forgotten Cyril's presence.</p> + +<p>"If you think her Ladyship had anything to do with the tragedy, I assure +you, you are on the wrong track," cried Cyril, forgetting for a moment +his pose of polite aloofness. "She has never been at all violent. It is +chiefly her memory that is affected. Until the last few days what she +did one minute, she forgot the next."</p> + +<p>"You think, therefore, that she would not be able to tell me how she +spent her time in Newhaven?"</p> + +<p>"I am sure of it."</p> + +<p>"That is most unfortunate! By the way, how has she taken the news of +Lord Wilmersley's murder?"</p> + +<p>"She has not been told of it. She does not even know that he is dead."</p> + +<p>"Ah!"</p> + +<p>"I see I must explain her case more fully, so that you may be able to +understand my position. Her Ladyship's mind became affected about six +months ago, owing to causes into which I need not enter now. Since her +arrival in England her improvement has been very rapid. Her memory is +growing stronger, but it is essential that it should not be taxed for +the present. The doctor assures me that if she is kept perfectly quiet +for a month or so, she will recover completely. That is why I want her +to remain in absolute seclusion. An incautious word might send her off +her balance. She must be protected from people, and I will protect her, +I warn you of that. Six weeks from now, if all goes well, you can +cross-question her, if you still think it necessary, but at present I +not only forbid it, but I will do all in my power to prevent it. Of +course," continued Cyril more calmly, "I have neither the power nor the +desire to hamper you in the exercise of your profession; so if you doubt +my statements just ask Dr. Stuart-Smith whether he thinks her Ladyship +has ever been in a condition when she might have committed murder. He +will laugh at you, I am sure."</p> + +<p>"I don't doubt it, my lord; all the same—" Griggs hesitated.</p> + +<p>"All the same you would like to know what her Ladyship did on the night +of the murder. Well, find out, if you can. I assure you that although +our motives differ, my curiosity equals yours."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, my lord. I shall certainly do my best to solve the riddle," +said the Inspector as he bowed himself out.</p> + +<p>Cyril sank wearily into a chair. The interview had been a great strain, +and yet he felt that in a way it had been a relief also. He flattered +himself that he had played his cards rather adroitly. For now that he +had found out exactly how much the police knew, he might possibly +circumvent them. Of course, it was merely a question of days, perhaps +even of hours, before Griggs would discover that the girl was not his +wife; for the Inspector was nothing if not thorough and if he once began +searching Newhaven for evidence of her stay there, Cyril was sure that +it would not take him long to establish her identity. Oh! If he only had +Griggs fighting on his side, instead of the little pompous fool of a +Judson! By the way, what could have become of Judson? It was now two +full days since he had left Geralton. He certainly ought to have +reported himself long before this. Well, it made no difference one way +or the other. He was a negligible quantity. Cyril had no time to think +of him now. His immediate concern was to find a way by which Priscilla +could be surreptitiously removed from the nursing home, before the +police had time to collect sufficient evidence to warrant her arrest. +But how was it to be done? Cyril sat for half an hour staring at the +smouldering fire before he was able to hit on a plan that seemed to him +at all feasible.</p> + +<p>Going to the writing-table, he rapidly covered three sheets and thrust +them into an envelope.</p> + +<p>"Peter," he called.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," answered a sleepy voice.</p> + +<p>"You are to take this letter at half-past seven o'clock to-morrow +morning to Mr. Campbell's rooms and give it into his own hands. If he is +still asleep, wake him up. Do you understand?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my lord."</p> + +<p>"Very well. You can go to bed now——"</p> + +<p>It was lucky, thought Cyril, that he had taken Guy into his confidence. +He was a good chap, Guy was! How he must hate the whole business! For, +notwithstanding his careless manner, he was <i>au fond</i> a conventional +soul. It was really comical to think of that impeccable person as a +receiver of stolen property. What would he do with the jewels, Cyril +wondered. Ah, that reminded him of the bag. He must get rid of it at +once. Poking the fire into a blaze, he cautiously locked the two doors +which connected his rooms with the rest of the house. Then, having +assured himself that the blinds were carefully drawn and that no one was +secreted about the premises, he knelt down before the empty fireplace in +his bedroom and felt up the chimney.</p> + +<p>The bag was no longer there!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<h3>A PERILOUS VENTURE</h3> + + +<p>In the grey dawn of the following morning Cyril was already up and +dressed. The first thing he did was to detach two of the labels affixed +to his box and place them carefully in his pocketbook. That +accomplished, he had to wait with what patience he could muster until +Peter returned with Campbell's reply. Cyril perused it eagerly. It was +evidently satisfactory, for he heaved a sigh of relief as he sat down to +breakfast. His eyes, however, never left the clock and it had hardly +finished striking nine before our hero was out of the house. No +suspicious person was in sight, but Cyril, was determined to take no +chances. He therefore walked quickly ahead, then turned so abruptly that +he would necessarily have surprised any one who was following him. This +he did many times till he reached Piccadilly Circus, where, with a last +look behind him, he bolted into a shop. There he asked for a small +travelling box suitable for a lady. Having chosen one, he took his +labels out of his pocket.</p> + +<p>"Have these pasted on the box," he ordered.</p> + +<p>The man's face expressed such amazement that Cyril hastened to remark +that the box was intended for a bride who did not wish to be identified +as such by the newness of her baggage. A comprehending and sympathetic +smile proved that the explanation was satisfactory. A few minutes later +Cyril drove off with his new acquisition. The next purchase was a +handsomely-fitted lady's dressing-bag, which he took to Trufitt's and +filled with such toilet accessories as a much-befrizzled young person +designated as indispensable to a lady's comfort. On leaving there he +stopped for a moment at his bank.</p> + +<p>Cyril now metaphorically girded his loins and summoning up all his +courage, plunged into a shop in Bond Street, where he remembered his +mother used to get what she vaguely termed "her things." Among the maze +of frou-frous he stood in helpless bewilderment, till an obsequious +floor-walker came to his rescue. Cyril explained that he had a box +outside which he wanted to fill then and there with a complete outfit +for a young lady. To his relief the man showed no surprise at so unusual +a request and he was soon ensconced in the blessed seclusion of a +fitting room. There the box was hurriedly packed with a varied +assortment of apparel, which he devoutly prayed would meet with +Priscilla's approval. It was not half-past eleven. The doctor must have +left the nursing home by this time, thought Cyril.</p> + +<p>Not wishing to attract attention by driving up to the door, he told the +chauffeur to stop when they were still at some distance away from it. +There he got out and looked anxiously about him. To his relief he +recognised Campbell's crimson pate hovering in the distance. So far, +thought Cyril triumphantly, there had been no hitch in his +carefully-laid plans.</p> + +<p>"You are to wait here," he said, turning to the driver, "for a lady and +a red-haired gentleman. Now understand, no one but a red-haired man is +to enter this car. Here is a pound, and if you don't make a mess of +things, the other gentleman will give you two more."</p> + +<p>"All right, sir; thank you, sir," exclaimed the astonished chauffeur, +greedily pocketing the gold piece.</p> + +<p>Cyril was certain that he had not been followed, and there was no sign +that the nursing home was being watched, but that did not reassure him. +Those curtained windows opposite might conceal a hundred prying eyes.</p> + +<p>When he was ushered into Miss Prentice's room, he was surprised to find +her already up and dressed. She held a mirror in one hand and with the +other was arranging a yellow wig, which encircled her face like an +aureole. Cyril could hardly restrain a cry of admiration. He had thought +her lovely before, but now her beauty was absolutely startling.</p> + +<p>On catching sight of him she dropped the mirror and ran to him with +outstretched hands.</p> + +<p>"Oh! I am so glad you have come. How do you like my hair?" she exclaimed +all in one breath.</p> + +<p>Cyril heroically disengaged himself from her soft, clinging clasp and +not daring to allow his eyes to linger on her upturned face, he surveyed +the article in question judicially.</p> + +<p>"For a wig it's not bad. I can't say, however, that I like anything +artificial," he asserted mendaciously.</p> + +<p>"You prefer my own hair!" she cried, and the corners of her mouth began +to droop in a way he had already begun to dread. "Oh! what shall I do? +Nurse tells me it will take ages and ages for it to grow again."</p> + +<p>"There, there, my dear, it's all right. You look lovely—" he paused +abruptly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, do I?" she cried, beaming with delight. "I am so glad you think +so!"</p> + +<p>"It doesn't matter what I think."</p> + +<p>"But it does," she insisted.</p> + +<p>Cyril turned resolutely away. This sort of thing must stop, he +determined.</p> + +<p>"I would like to ask you one thing." She hesitated a moment. "Are we +very poor?"</p> + +<p>"No, why?"</p> + +<p>"Then I could afford to have some pretty clothes?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm so glad! I can't bear the ones I have on. I can't think why I +ever bought anything so ugly. I shall throw them away as soon as I can +get others. By the way, where is my box? Nurse tells me that I arrived +here with nothing but a small hand-bag."</p> + +<p>"It has gone astray," he stammered. "It will turn up soon, no doubt, but +in the meantime I have bought a few clothes for your immediate use."</p> + +<p>"Oh, have you? Where are they?" she cried, clapping her hands.</p> + +<p>Now was the crucial moment. He must introduce the subject of her +departure tactfully.</p> + +<p>"They are outside in a cab."</p> + +<p>She ran to the window.</p> + +<p>"But I see no cab."</p> + +<p>"It is waiting a little farther down the street."</p> + +<p>She looked bewildered.</p> + +<p>"Farther down—why?"</p> + +<p>"You trust me, don't you?" he said, looking earnestly at her.</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course."</p> + +<p>"Then, believe me, it is necessary for you to leave this place +immediately. I—you—are being pursued by some one who—who wishes to +separate us."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, not that!" she cried. "But how can any one separate us, when +God has joined us together?"</p> + +<p>"It's a long story and I have no time to explain it now. All I ask is +that you will trust me blindly for the present, and do exactly what I +tell you to."</p> + +<p>"I will," she murmured submissively.</p> + +<p>"Thank you. Will you please call your nurse?"</p> + +<p>She touched a bell.</p> + +<p>The same middle-aged woman appeared of whom he had caught a glimpse on +his former visit.</p> + +<p>"Good-morning, nurse. Your patient seems pretty fit to-day."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Thompkins is recovering very rapidly."</p> + +<p>"Can I speak to the doctor?" asked Cyril.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry, but he has just left."</p> + +<p>"Too bad!" Cyril knitted his brows as if the doctor's absence was an +unexpected disappointment. "Mrs. Thompkins must leave here at once and I +wanted to explain her precipitate departure to him."</p> + +<p>"You might telephone," suggested the nurse.</p> + +<p>"Yes, or better still, I shall call at his office. But his absence +places me in a most awkward predicament."</p> + +<p>Cyril paced the room several times as if in deep thought, then halted +before the nurse.</p> + +<p>"Well, there is no help for it. As the doctor is not here, I must +confide in you. Thompkins is not our real name. The doctor knows what +that is and it was on his advice that we discarded it for the time +being. I can't tell you our reason for this concealment nor why my wife +must not only leave this house as soon as possible, but must do so +unobserved. Will you help us?"</p> + +<p>"I—I don't know, sir," answered the nurse dubiously, staring at Cyril +in amazement.</p> + +<p>"If you will dress my wife in a nurse's uniform and see that she gets +out of here without being recognised, I will give you £100. Here is the +money."</p> + +<p>The nurse gave a gasp and backed away from the notes, which Cyril held +temptingly toward her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I couldn't, sir, really I couldn't. The doctor would never forgive +me. Besides it seems so queer."</p> + +<p>"I promise you on my word of honour that the doctor need never know that +you helped us."</p> + +<p>But the woman only shook her head.</p> + +<p>"What makes you hesitate?" continued Cyril. "Do you think I am trying to +bribe you to do something dishonourable? Ah, that is it, is it?" He gave +a short laugh. "Look at my wife, does she look like a criminal, I ask +you?"</p> + +<p>"She certainly doesn't," answered the nurse, glancing eagerly from one +to the other and then longingly down at the money in Cyril's hand.</p> + +<p>"Well, then, why not trust your instinct in the matter? My wife and I +have been placed, through no fault of our own, in a very disagreeable +position. You will know the whole story some day, but for the present my +lips are sealed. International complications might arise if the truth +leaked out prematurely." Cyril felt that the last was a neat touch, for +the woman's face cleared and she repeated in an awe-struck voice: +"International complications!"</p> + +<p>"Germany! I can say no more," added Cyril in a stage whisper.</p> + +<p>"Ah! The wretches!" cried the nurse. "One never knows what they will be +at next. Of course I will help you. I ought to have known at once that +it was sure to be all right. Any one can see that you are a gentleman—a +soldier, I dare say?"</p> + +<p>"Never mind who or what I am. It is better that you should be able +truthfully to plead your complete ignorance. Now as to the uniform; have +you one to spare?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed. I will go and get it immediately."</p> + +<p>"All this mystery frightens me," exclaimed Priscilla as soon as they +were alone.</p> + +<p>"You must be brave. Now listen attentively to what I am saying. On +leaving here——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, aren't you going with me?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"No, we must not be seen together, but I will join you later."</p> + +<p>"You will not leave me alone again?"</p> + +<p>"Not for long."</p> + +<p>"Promise."</p> + +<p>"I promise."</p> + +<p>"Very well, now tell me what I am to do."</p> + +<p>"On leaving this house you are to turn to your right and walk down the +street till you see a taxi with a box on it. A friend of mine, Guy +Campbell, will be inside. You can easily recognise him; he has red hair. +Campbell will drive you to a hotel where a lady is waiting for you and +where you are to stay till I can join you. If there should be any hitch +in these arrangements, go to this address and send a telegram to me at +the club. I have written all this down," he said, handing her a folded +paper.</p> + +<p>The nurse returned with her arms full of clothes.</p> + +<p>"Have you a thick veil?" asked Cyril.</p> + +<p>"There is a long one attached to the bonnet, but we never pull it over +our faces, and I am afraid if Mrs. Thompkins did so, it would attract +attention."</p> + +<p>"Yet something must be done to conceal her face."</p> + +<p>The nurse thought for a moment.</p> + +<p>"Leave that to me, sir. I used to help in private theatricals once upon +a time."</p> + +<p>"That is splendid! I will go downstairs now and wait till you have got +Mrs. Thompkins ready."</p> + +<p>"Give me a quarter of an hour and you will be astonished at the result." +She seemed to have thrown her whole heart into the business.</p> + +<p>When Cyril returned, he found Priscilla really transformed. Her yellow +curls had been plastered down on either side of her forehead. A pair of +tinted spectacles dimmed the brilliancy of her eyes and her dark, +finely-arched eyebrows had been rendered almost imperceptible by a +skilful application of grease and powder. With a burnt match the nurse +had drawn a few faint lines in the girlish face, so that she looked at +least ten years older, and all this artifice was made to appear natural +by means of a dingy, black net veil. A nurse's costume completed the +disguise.</p> + +<p>"You have done winders, nurse. I can't thank you enough," he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Don't I look a fright?" cried Priscilla a little ruefully.</p> + +<p>"No, you don't. That is just where the art comes in. You are not +noticeable one way or the other. It is admirable. And now you had better +be going."</p> + +<p>The nurse peered into the hall.</p> + +<p>"There is no one about just now. I will take Mrs. Thompkins to the front +door. If we are seen, it will be supposed that she is some friend of +mine who has been calling on me. I will watch till I see her safely in +the car," the nurse assured him.</p> + +<p>"Thanks."</p> + +<p>"By the way, as I have to pretend not to know of my patient's departure, +I had better not return till you have left."</p> + +<p>"All right. Good-bye, nurse. I shall stay here a quarter of an hour so +as to give you a good start. Good-bye, my dear."</p> + +<p>The next fifteen minutes seemed to Cyril the longest he had ever spent. +He did not even dare to follow Priscilla's progress from the window. +Watch in hand he waited till the time was up and then made his way +cautiously out of the house without, as luck would have it, encountering +any one.</p> + +<p>The taxi was no longer in sight! With a light heart Cyril walked briskly +to the doctor's office.</p> + +<p>"Well, Lord Wilmersley, what brings you here?" asked the doctor, when +Cyril was finally ushered into the august presence.</p> + +<p>"I have called to tell you that my wife has left the nursing home," +Cyril blurted out.</p> + +<p>"Impossible!" cried the doctor. "She was quite calm this morning. The +nurse would——"</p> + +<p>"The nurse had nothing to do with it," interrupted Cyril hastily. "It +was I who took her away."</p> + +<p>"You? But why this haste? I thought you had decided to wait till +to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"For family reasons, which I need not go into now, I thought it best +that she should be removed at once."</p> + +<p>"And may I know where she is?" inquired the doctor, looking searchingly +at Cyril.</p> + +<p>"I intend to take her to Geralton—in—in a few days."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" The doctor's upper lip lengthened perceptibly.</p> + +<p>"So you do not wish me to know where you have hidden her."</p> + +<p>"Hidden her?" Cyril raised his eyebrows deprecatingly. "That is a +strange expression to use. It seems to me that a man has certainly the +right to withhold his wife's address from a comparative stranger without +being accused of hiding her. You should really choose your words more +carefully, my dear sir."</p> + +<p>The doctor glared at Cyril for a moment, then rising abruptly he paced +the room several times.</p> + +<p>"It's no use," he said at last, stopping in front of Cyril. "You can't +persuade me that there is not some mystery connected with Lady +Wilmersley. And I warn you that I have determined to find out the +truth."</p> + +<p>Cyril's heart gave an uncomfortable jump, but he managed to keep his +face impassive.</p> + +<p>"A mystery? What an amusing idea! A man of your imagination is really +wasted in the medical profession. You should write, my dear doctor, you +really should. But, granting for the sake of argument that I have +something to conceal, what right have you to try to force my confidence? +My wife's movements are surely no concern of yours."</p> + +<p>"One has not only the right, but it becomes one's obvious duty to +interfere, when one has reason to believe that by doing so one may +prevent the ill-treatment of a helpless woman."</p> + +<p>"Do you really think I ill-treat my wife?"</p> + +<p>"I think it is possible. And till I am sure that my fears are unfounded, +I will not consent to Lady Wilmersley's remaining in your sole care."</p> + +<p>"Do you mind telling me what basis you have for such a monstrous +suspicion?" asked Cyril very quietly.</p> + +<p>"Certainly. You bring me a young lady who has been flogged. You tell me +that she is your wife, yet you profess to know nothing of her injuries +and give an explanation which, although not impossible, is at all events +highly improbable. This lady, who is not only beautiful but charming, +you neglect in the most astonishing manner. No, I am not forgetting that +you had other pressing duties to attend to, but even so, if you had +cared for your wife, you could not have remained away from her as you +did. It was nothing less than heartless to leave a poor young woman, in +the state she was in, alone among strangers. Your letter only partially +satisfied me. Your arguments would have seemed to me perfectly +unconvincing, if I had not been so anxious to believe the best. As it +was, although I tried to ignore it, a root of suspicion still lingered +in my mind. Then, when you finally do turn up, instead of hurrying to +your wife's bedside you try in every way to avoid meeting her till at +last I have to insist upon your doing so. I tell you, that if she had +not shown such marked affection for you, I should have had no doubt of +your guilt."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! Do I look like a wife-beater?"</p> + +<p>"No, but the only murderess I ever knew looked like one of Raphael's +Madonnas."</p> + +<p>"Thanks for the implication." Cyril bowed sarcastically.</p> + +<p>"The more I observed Mrs. Thompkins," continued the doctor, "the more I +became convinced that a severe shock was responsible for her amnesia, +and that she had never been insane nor was she at all likely to become +so."</p> + +<p>"Even physicians are occasionally mistaken in their diagnosis, I have +been told."</p> + +<p>"You are right; that is why I have given you the benefit of the doubt," +replied the doctor calmly. "This morning, however, I made a discovery, +which practically proves that my suspicions were not unfounded."</p> + +<p>"And pray what is this great discovery of yours?" drawled Cyril.</p> + +<p>"I had been worrying about this case all night, when it suddenly +occurred to me to consult the peerage. I wanted to find out who Lady +Wilmersley's people were, so that I might communicate with them if I +considered it necessary. The first thing I found was that your wife was +born in 18—, so that now she is in her twenty-eighth year. My patient +is certainly not more than twenty. How do you account for this +discrepancy in their ages?"</p> + +<p>Cyril forced himself to smile superciliously.</p> + +<p>"And is my wife's youthful appearance your only reason for doubting her +identity?"</p> + +<p>The doctor seemed a little staggered by Cyril's nonchalant manner.</p> + +<p>"It is my chief reason, but as I have just taken the trouble to explain, +not my only one."</p> + +<p>"Oh, really! And if she is not my wife, whom do you suspect her of +being?"</p> + +<p>"I have no idea."</p> + +<p>"You astonish me." In trying to conceal his agitation Cyril +unfortunately assumed an air of frigid detachment, which only served to +exasperate the doctor still further.</p> + +<p>"Your manner is insulting, my lord."</p> + +<p>"Your suspicions are so flattering!" drawled Cyril.</p> + +<p>The doctor glared at Cyril for a moment but seemed at a loss for a +crushing reply.</p> + +<p>"You must acknowledge that appearances are against you," he said at +last, making a valiant effort to control his temper. "If you are a man +of honour, you ought to appreciate that my position is a very difficult +one and to be as ready to forgive me, if I have erred through excessive +zeal, as I shall be to apologise to you. Now let me ask you one more +question. Why were you so anxious that I should not see the jewels?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, had you not seen them? I thought, of course, that you had. I +apologise for not having satisfied your curiosity."</p> + +<p>There was a short pause during which the doctor looked long and +searchingly at Cyril.</p> + +<p>"I can't help it. I feel that there is something fishy about this +business. You can't convince me to the contrary."</p> + +<p>"I was not aware that I was trying to do so."</p> + +<p>The doctor almost danced with rage.</p> + +<p>"Lord Wilmersley—for I suppose you are Lord Wilmersley?"</p> + +<p>"Unless I am his valet, Peter Thompkins."</p> + +<p>"I know nothing about you," cried the doctor, "and you have succeeded to +your title under very peculiar circumstances, my lord."</p> + +<p>"So you suspect me not only of flogging my wife but of murdering my +cousin!" laughed Cyril. "My dear doctor, don't you realise that if there +were the slightest grounds for your suspicions, the police would have +put me under surveillance long ago. Why, I can easily prove that I was +in Paris at the time of the murder."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you are clever! I don't doubt that you have an impeccable alibi. +But if I informed the police that you were passing off as your wife a +girl several years younger than Lady Wilmersley, a girl, moreover, who, +you acknowledged, joined you at Newhaven the very morning after the +murder—if I told them that this young lady had in her possession a +remarkable number of jewels, which she carried in a cheap, black +bag—what do you think they would say to that, my lord?"</p> + +<p>Cyril felt cold chills creeping down his back and the palms of his hands +grew moist. Not a flicker of an eyelash, however, betrayed his inward +tumult. "They would no doubt pay as high a tribute to your imagination +as I do," he answered.</p> + +<p>Then, abandoning his careless pose, he sat up in his chair.</p> + +<p>"You have been insulting me for the last half-hour, and I have borne it +very patiently, partly because your absurd suspicions amused me, and +partly because I realised that, although you are a fool, you are an +honest fool."</p> + +<p>"Sir!" The doctor turned purple in the face.</p> + +<p>"You can hardly resent being called a fool by a man you have been +accusing of murder and wife-beating. But I don't want you to go to the +police with this cock-and-bull story——"</p> + +<p>"Ah! I thought not," sneered the doctor.</p> + +<p>"Because," continued Cyril, ignoring the interruption, "I want to +protect my wife from unpleasant notoriety, and also, although you don't +deserve it, to keep you from becoming a public laughing stock. So far +you have done all the talking; now you are to listen to me. Sit down. +You make me nervous strutting about like that. Sit down, I tell you. +There, that's better. Now let us see what all this rigmarole really +amounts to. You began by asking for my wife's address, and when I did +not immediately gratify what I considered your impertinent curiosity, +you launch forth into vague threats of exposure. As far as I can make +out from your disjointed harangue, your excuse for prying into my +affairs is that by doing so you are protecting a helpless woman from +further ill-treatment. Very well. Granting that you really suppose me to +be a brute, your behaviour might be perfectly justified if—if you +believed that your patient is my wife. But you tell me that you do not. +You think that she is either my mistress or my accomplice, or both. Now, +if she is a criminal and an immoral woman, you must admit that she has +shown extraordinary cleverness, inasmuch as she succeeded not only in +eluding the police but in deceiving you. For the impression she made on +you was a very favourable one, was it not? She seemed to you unusually +innocent as well as absolutely frank, didn't she?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," acknowledged the doctor.</p> + +<p>"Now, if she was able to dupe so trained an observer as yourself, she +must be a remarkable woman, and cannot be the helpless creature you +picture her, and consequently would be in no danger of being forced to +submit to abuse from any one."</p> + +<p>"True," murmured the doctor.</p> + +<p>"But I think I can prove to you that you were not mistaken in your first +estimate of her character. This illness of hers—was it real or could it +have been feigned?"</p> + +<p>"It was real. There is no doubt about that."</p> + +<p>"You saw her when she was only semi-conscious, when she was physically +incapable of acting a part—did she during that time, either by word or +look, betray moral perversity?"</p> + +<p>"She did not." The doctor's anger had abated and he was listening to +Cyril intently.</p> + +<p>"How, then, can you doubt her? And if she is what she seems, she is +certainly neither my mistress nor a thief; and if she is not the one nor +the other, she must be my wife, and if you go to the police with your +absurd suspicions, you will only succeed in making yourself ridiculous."</p> + +<p>There was a pause during which the two men eyed each other keenly.</p> + +<p>"You make a great point of the fact that my wife had in her possession a +number of valuable ornaments," continued Cyril. "But why should she not? +My wife insisted on having all her jewelry with her at Charleroi, and +when she escaped from there, they were among the few things she took +with her. The excitement of meeting her so unexpectedly and her sudden +illness made me forget all about them, otherwise I would have taken them +out of the bag, which, as you may have noticed, was not even locked. But +the very fact that I did forget all about them and allowed them to pass +through the hands of nurses and servants, that alone ought to convince +you that I did not come by them dishonestly. You had them for days in +your possession; yet you accuse me of having prevented you from +examining them. That is really ridiculous! Your whole case against me is +built on the wildest conjectures, from which you proceed to draw +perfectly untenable inferences. My wife looks young for her age, I grant +you; but even you would not venture to swear positively that she is not +twenty-eight. You fancied that I neglected her; consequently I am a +brute. She is sane now; so you believe that she has never been +otherwise. You imagined that I did not wish you to examine the contents +of my wife's bag, therefore the Wilmersley jewels must have been in it."</p> + +<p>"What you say sounds plausible enough," acknowledged the doctor, "and it +seems impossible to associate you with anything cruel, mean, or even +underhand, and yet—and yet—I have an unaccountable feeling that you +are not telling me the truth. When I try to analyse my impressions, I +find that I distrust not you but your story. You have, however, +convinced me that I have no logical basis for my suspicions. That being +the case, I shall do nothing for the present. But, if at the end of a +fortnight I do not hear that Lady Wilmersley has arrived in England, and +has taken her place in the world, then I shall believe that my instinct +has not been at fault, and shall do my best to find out what has become +of her, even at the risk of creating a scandal or of being laughed at +for my pains. But I don't care, I shall feel that I have done my duty. +In the meantime I shall write to Dr. Monet. Now I have given you a fair +warning, which you can act on as you see fit."</p> + +<p>What an unerring scent the man had for falsehood, thought Cyril with +unwilling admiration. It was really wonderful the way he disregarded +probabilities and turned a deaf ear to reason. He was a big man, Cyril +grudgingly admitted.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you will not believe me if I tell you that I have no personal +animosity toward you, Lord Wilmersley?"</p> + +<p>"I know that. And some day we'll laugh over this episode together," +replied Cyril, with a heartiness which surprised himself.</p> + +<p>"Now that is nice of you," cried the doctor. "My temper is rather hasty, +I am sorry to say, and though I don't remember all I said just now, I am +sure, I was unnecessarily disagreeable."</p> + +<p>"Well, I called you a fool," grinned Cyril.</p> + +<p>"So you did, so you did, and may I live to acknowledge that I richly +deserve the appellation."</p> + +<p>And so their interview terminated with unexpected friendliness.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<h3>CAMPBELL REMONSTRATES</h3> + + +<p>In his note to Guy, Cyril had asked the latter to join him at his club +as soon as he had left Priscilla at the hotel, and so when the time +passed and his friend neither came nor telephoned, Cyril's anxiety knew +no bounds.</p> + +<p>What could have happened? thought Cyril. Had Priscilla been arrested? In +that case, however, Guy would surely have communicated with him at once, +for the police could have had no excuse for detaining the latter.</p> + +<p>Several acquaintances he had not seen for years greeted him cordially, +but he met their advances so half-heartedly that they soon left him to +himself, firmly convinced that the title had turned his head. Only one, +an old friend of his father's, refused to be shaken off and sat prosing +away quite oblivious of his listener's preoccupation till the words +"your wife" arrested Cyril's wandering attention.</p> + +<p>"Yes," the Colonel was saying, "too bad that you should have this added +worry just now. Taken ill on the train, too—most awkward."</p> + +<p>Cyril was so startled that he could only repeat idiotically: "My wife?"</p> + +<p>"Am I wrong?" exclaimed the Colonel, evidently at a loss to understand +Cyril's perturbation. "Your wife is in town, isn't she, and ill?"</p> + +<p>What should he answer? He dared not risk a denial.</p> + +<p>"Who told you that she was ill?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"It was in the morning papers. Didn't you see it?"</p> + +<p>"In the papers!"</p> + +<p>Cyril realised at once that he ought to have foreseen that this was +bound to have occurred. Too many people knew the story for it not to +have leaked out eventually.</p> + +<p>"I have not had time to read them to-day," replied Cyril as soon as he +was able to collect his wits a little. "What did they say?"</p> + +<p>"Only that your wife had been prostrated by the shock of Wilmersley's +murder, and had to be removed from the train to a nursing home."</p> + +<p>"It's a bore that it got into the papers. My wife is only suffering from +a slight indisposition and will be all right in a day or two," Cyril +hastened to assure him.</p> + +<p>"Glad to hear it. I must meet her. Where is she staying at present?"</p> + +<p>"She—she is still at the nursing home—but she is leaving there +to-morrow." Then fearing that more questions were impending, Cyril +seized the Colonel's hand and shaking it vehemently exclaimed: "I must +write some letters. So glad to have had this chat with you," and without +giving the Colonel time to answer, he fled from the room.</p> + +<p>Cyril looked at his watch. Ten minutes to three! Guy must have met with +an accident. Suddenly an alarming possibility occurred to him,—what if +the police had traced the jewels to Campbell? The bag, which had +disappeared, must have been taken by them. Griggs, when he inquired so +innocently about "Lady Wilmersley," had been fully cognisant of the +girl's identity. What was to be done now? He could not remain passive +and await developments. He must—was that—could that be Campbell +sauntering so leisurely toward him? Indeed it was!</p> + +<p>"What has happened?" asked Cyril in a hoarse whisper, dragging his +friend into a secluded corner. "Tell me at once."</p> + +<p>"Nothing, my dear boy. I am afraid I kept you waiting longer than I +intended to. I hope you have not been anxious?" Guy seemed, however, +quite unconcerned.</p> + +<p>"Anxious!" exclaimed Cyril indignantly. "Well, rather! How could you +have kept me in such suspense? Why didn't you come to me at once on +leaving Miss Prentice?"</p> + +<p>"But I did. I have just left her."</p> + +<p>"And she is really all right? The governess, Miss What's her name, is +with her?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly. But I didn't want to leave Mrs. Thompkins alone with a +stranger in a strange place, so I stayed and lunched with them."</p> + +<p>Cyril almost choked with rage. <i>He</i> had had no lunch at all. He had been +too upset to think of such a thing and all the time they—oh! It was too +abominable! Campbell was a selfish little brute. He would never forgive +him, thought Cyril, scowling down at the complacent offender. For he was +complacent, that was the worst of it. From the top of his sleek, red +head to the tips of his immaculate boots, he radiated a triumphant +self-satisfaction. What was the matter with the man? wondered Cyril. He +seemed indefinably changed. There was a jauntiness about him—a light in +his eyes which Cyril did not remember to have noticed before. And what +was the meaning of those two violets drooping so sentimentally in his +buttonhole? Cyril stared at the flowers as if hypnotised.</p> + +<p>"So you liked Miss Prentice?" he managed to say, controlling himself +with an effort.</p> + +<p>"Rather! But I say, Cyril, it's all rot about her being that Prentice +woman."</p> + +<p>"Ah, you think so?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think—I know. Why, she speaks French like a native."</p> + +<p>"How did you find that out?" asked Cyril, forgetting his indignation in +his surprise at this new development.</p> + +<p>"We had a duffer of a waiter who understood very little English, so Mrs. +Thompkins spoke to him in French, and such French! It sounded like the +real thing."</p> + +<p>Cyril was dumfounded. How could a girl brought up in a small inland +village, which she had left only six months before, have learnt French? +And then he remembered that the doctor had told him that she had +retained a dim recollection of Paris. Why had the significance of that +fact not struck him before?</p> + +<p>"But if she is not Priscilla Prentice, who on earth can she be? She +can't be Anita Wilmersley!" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Of course not. She—she—" Guy paused at a loss for a suggestion.</p> + +<p>"And yet, if she is not the sempstress, she must be Anita!"</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"Because of the jewels in her bag."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe they are the Wilmersley jewels——"</p> + +<p>"There is no doubt as to that. I have the list somewhere and you can +easily verify it."</p> + +<p>"Then the bag is not hers. It may have been left in the seat by some one +else."</p> + +<p>"She opened it in my presence."</p> + +<p>"But you proved to me last night that she could not be Lady Wilmersley," +insisted Guy.</p> + +<p>"So I did. Anita has masses of bright, yellow hair. This girl's hair is +dark."</p> + +<p>"Well, then——"</p> + +<p>"There seems no possible explanation to the enigma," acknowledged Cyril.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps she wore a wig."</p> + +<p>"She did not. When she fainted I loosened her veil and a strand of her +hair caught in my fingers. It was her own, I can swear to that."</p> + +<p>"She may have dyed it."</p> + +<p>"I never thought of that," exclaimed Cyril. "No, I don't think she could +have had time to dye it. It takes hours, I believe. At nine, when she +was last seen, she had made no attempt to alter her appearance. Now +Wilmersley was——"</p> + +<p>"Hold on," cried Guy. "You told me, did you not, that she had cut off +her hair because it had turned white?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," assented Cyril.</p> + +<p>"Very well, then, that disposes of the possibility of its having been +dyed."</p> + +<p>"So it does. And yet, she carried the Wilmersley jewels, that is a fact +we must not forget."</p> + +<p>"Then she must be a hitherto unsuspected factor in the case."</p> + +<p>"Possibly, and yet—-"</p> + +<p>"Yet what?"</p> + +<p>"I confess I have no other solution to offer. Oh, by the way, what is +the number of her room?"</p> + +<p>Guy stiffened perceptibly.</p> + +<p>"I don't think I remember it."</p> + +<p>"How annoying! I particularly asked you to make a note of it!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, did you?" Guy's face was averted and he toyed nervously with his +eye-glass.</p> + +<p>"Of course I did. You must realise—in fact we discussed it +together—that I must be able to see her."</p> + +<p>"As there is nothing that you can do for her, why should you compromise +her still further?"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"I mean that you ought not to take further advantage of her peculiar +affliction so as to play the part of a devoted husband."</p> + +<p>"This is outrageous—" began Cyril, but Campbell cut him short.</p> + +<p>"While you fancied that she was in need of your assistance, I grant that +there was some excuse for your conduct, but to continue the farce any +longer would be positively dishonourable."</p> + +<p>Cyril was so surprised at Campbell's belligerent tone that for a moment +it rendered him speechless. From a boy Guy had always been his humble +admirer. What could have wrought this sudden change in him? wondered +Cyril. Again his eyes lingered on the violets. It was not possible! And +yet Cyril had often suspected that under Guy's obvious shrewdness there +lurked a vein of romanticism. And as Cyril surveyed his friend, his +wrath slowly cooled. For the first time it occurred to him that +Campbell's almost comic exterior must be a real grief to a man of his +temperament. His own appearance had always seemed to Cyril such a +negligible quantity that he shrank from formulating even in his own mind +the reason why he felt that it would be absurd to fear Guy as a rival. A +man who is not to be feared is a man to be pitied, and it was this +unacknowledged pity, together with a sudden suspicion of the possible +tragedy of his friend's life, which allayed Cyril's indignation and made +him finally reply gently:</p> + +<p>"I think you are mistaken. I am sure she still needs me."</p> + +<p>"She does not. Miss Trevor and I are quite able to look after her."</p> + +<p>"I don't doubt your goodwill, my dear Guy, but what about her feelings?"</p> + +<p>"Feelings! I like that! Do you fancy that her feelings are concerned? Do +you imagine that she will be inconsolable at your absence?"</p> + +<p>"You appear to forget that she believes me to be her husband. Her +pride—her vanity will be hurt if I appear to neglect her." Cyril still +spoke very quietly.</p> + +<p>"Then I will tell her the truth at once," exclaimed Campbell.</p> + +<p>"And risk the recurrence of her illness? Remember the doctor insisted +that she must on no account be agitated."</p> + +<p>"Why should it agitate her to be told that you are not her husband? I +should think it would be a jolly sight more agitating to believe one's +self bound to a perfect stranger. It is a wonder it has not driven the +poor child crazy."</p> + +<p>"Luckily she took the sad news very calmly," Cyril could not refrain +from remarking. Really, Guy was intolerable and he longed with a +primitive longing to punch his head. But he had to control himself. Guy +was capable of being nasty, if not handled carefully. So he hastily +continued:</p> + +<p>"How can you undeceive her on one point without explaining the whole +situation to her?"</p> + +<p>"I—" began Guy, "I—" He paused.</p> + +<p>"Exactly. Even you have no solution to offer. Even you have to +acknowledge that the relief of knowing that she is not my wife might be +offset by learning not only that we are quite in the dark as to who she +is, but that at any moment she may be arrested on a charge of murder."</p> + +<p>"I don't know what to do!" murmured Guy helplessly.</p> + +<p>"Do nothing for the present."</p> + +<p>"Nothing!" exclaimed Guy. "Nothing! And leave you to insinuate yourself +into her—affections! She must be told the truth some day, but by that +time she may have grown to—to—love you." Guy gulped painfully over the +word. "You are a married man. That fact evidently seems 'too trifling' +to be considered, but I fancy she will not regard it as casually as you +do."</p> + +<p>"This is absurd," began Cyril, but Guy intercepted him.</p> + +<p>"You feel free to do as you please because you expect to get a divorce, +but you have not got it yet, remember, and in the meantime your wife may +bring a countersuit, naming Miss—Mrs. Thompkins as corespondent."</p> + +<p>This suggestion staggered Cyril for a moment.</p> + +<p>"And in that case," continued Campbell, "she would probably think that +she ought to marry you. After having been dragged through the filth of a +divorce court, she would imagine herself too besmirched to give herself +to any other man. And your wealth, your title, and your precious self +may not seem to her as desirable as you suppose. She is the sort of girl +who would think them a poor exchange for the loss of her reputation and +her liberty of choice. When she discovers how you have compromised her +by your asinine stupidity, I don't fancy that she will take a lenient +view of your conduct."</p> + +<p>"You seem to forget that if I had not shielded her with my name, she +would undoubtedly have been arrested on the train."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't doubt you meant well."</p> + +<p>"Thanks," murmured Cyril sarcastically.</p> + +<p>"All I say is that you must not see her again till this mystery is +cleared up. I didn't forget about the number of her apartment, but I +wasn't going to help you to sneak in to her at all hours. Now, if you +want to see her, you will have to go boldly up to the hotel and have +yourself properly announced. And I don't think you will care about +that."</p> + +<p>"I promised to see her. I shall not break my word."</p> + +<p>"I don't care a fig for your promises. You shan't see her as long as she +believes you to be her husband."</p> + +<p>Luckily the room was empty, for both men had risen to their feet.</p> + +<p>"I shall see her," repeated Cyril.</p> + +<p>"If you do, I warn you that I shall tell her the truth and risk the +consequences. She shall not, if I can help it, be placed in a position +where she will be forced to marry a man who has, after all, lived his +life. She ought—" Guy paused abruptly.</p> + +<p>"She ought, in other words, to be given the choice between my battered +heart and your virgin affections. Is that it?"</p> + +<p>"I mean——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you have made your meaning quite clear, I assure you!" interrupted +Cyril. "But what you have been saying is sheer nonsense. You have been +calling me to account for things that have not happened, and blaming me +for what I have not done. She is not being dragged through the divorce +court, and I see no reason to suppose that she ever will be. I am not +trying to force her to marry me, and can promise that I shall never do +so. Far from taking advantage of the situation, I assure you my conduct +has been most circumspect. Don't cross a bridge till you get to it, and +don't accuse a man of being a cad just because—" Cyril paused abruptly +and looked at Guy, and as he did so, his expression slowly relaxed till +he finally smiled indulgently—"just because a certain lady is very +charming," he added.</p> + +<p>But Guy was not to be pacified. He would neither retract nor modify his +ultimatum. He knew, of course, that Cyril would not dare to write the +girl; for if the letter miscarried or was found by the police, it might +be fatal to both.</p> + +<p>But while they were still heatedly debating the question, a way suddenly +occurred to Cyril by which he could communicate with her with absolute +safety. So he waited placidly for Guy to take himself off, which he +eventually did, visibly elated at having, as he thought, effectually put +a stop to further intercourse between the two. He had hardly left the +club, however, before Cyril was talking to Priscilla over the telephone! +He explained to her as best he could that he had been called out of town +for a few days, and begged her on no account to leave her apartments +till he returned. He also tried to impress on her that she had better +talk about him as little as possible and above all things not to mention +either to Campbell or Miss Trevor that she had heard from him and +expected to see him before long.</p> + +<p>It cost Cyril a tremendous effort to restrict himself to necessary +instructions and polite inquiries, especially as she kept begging him to +come back to her as soon as possible. Finally he could bear the strain +no longer, and in the middle of a sentence he resolutely hung up the +receiver.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<h3>WHAT IS THE TRUTH?</h3> + + +<p>When Cyril arrived in Newhaven that evening, he was unpleasantly +surprised to find, as he got out of the train, that Judson had been +travelling in the adjoining compartment. Had the man been following him, +or was it simply chance that had brought them together, he wondered. Oh! +If he could only get rid of the fellow!</p> + +<p>"You have come to see me, I suppose," he remarked ungraciously.</p> + +<p>"Yes, my lord."</p> + +<p>"Very well, then, get into the car."</p> + +<p>Cyril was in no mood to talk, so the first part of the way was +accomplished in silence, but at last, thinking that he might as well +hear what the man had to say, he turned to him and asked:</p> + +<p>"Have you found out anything of any importance?"</p> + +<p>"I fancy so, my lord."</p> + +<p>"Really! Well, what is it?"</p> + +<p>"If you will excuse me, my lord, I should suggest that we wait till we +get to the castle," replied Judson, casting a meaning look at the +chauffeur's back.</p> + +<p>"Just as you please." His contempt for Judson was so great that Cyril +was not very curious to hear his revelations.</p> + +<p>"Now," said Cyril, as he flung himself into a low chair before the +library fire, "what have you to tell me?"</p> + +<p>Before answering Judson peered cautiously around; then, drawing forward +a straight-backed chair, he seated himself close to Cyril and folded his +hands in his lap.</p> + +<p>"In dealing with my clients," he began, "I make it a rule instead of +simply stating the results of my work to show them how I arrive at my +conclusions. Having submitted to them all the facts I have collected, +they are able to judge for themselves as to the value of the evidence on +which my deductions are based. And so, my lord, I should like to go over +the whole case with you from the very beginning."</p> + +<p>Cyril gave a grunt which Judson evidently construed into an assent, for +he continued even more glibly:</p> + +<p>"The first point I considered was, whether her Ladyship had premeditated +her escape. But in order to determine this, we must first decide whom +she could have got to help her to accomplish such a purpose. The most +careful inquiry has failed to reveal any one who would have been both +willing and able to do so, except the sempstress, and as both mistress +and maid disappeared almost simultaneously, one's first impulse is to +take it for granted that Prentice was her Ladyship's accomplice. This is +what every one, Scotland Yard included, believes."</p> + +<p>"And you do not?"</p> + +<p>"Before either accepting or rejecting this theory, I decided to visit +this girl's home. I did not feel clear in my mind about her. All the +servants were impressed by her manner and personality, the butler +especially so, and he more than hinted that there must be some mystery +attached to her. One of the things that stimulated their curiosity was +that she kept up a daily correspondence with some one in Plumtree. On +reaching the village I called at once on the vicar. He is an elderly +man, much respected and beloved by his parishioners. I found him in a +state of great excitement, having just read in the paper of Prentice's +disappearance. I had no difficulty in inducing him to tell me the main +facts of her history; the rest I picked up from the village gossips. The +girl is a foundling. And till she came to Geralton she was an inmate of +the vicar's household. He told me that he would have adopted her, but +knowing that he had not sufficient means to provide for her future, he +wisely refrained from educating her above her station. Nevertheless, I +gathered that the privilege of his frequent companionship had refined +her speech and manners, and I am told that she now could pass muster in +any drawing-room."</p> + +<p>"Did she ever learn French?" interrupted Cyril, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Not that I know of, and I do not believe the vicar would have taught +her an accomplishment so useless to one in her position."</p> + +<p>"Did she ever go to France?"</p> + +<p>"Never. But, why do you ask?"</p> + +<p>"No matter—I—but go on with your story."</p> + +<p>"Owing partly to the mystery which surrounded her birth and gave rise to +all sorts of rumours, and partly to her own personality, the gentry of +the neighbourhood made quite a pet of her. As a child she was asked +occasionally to play with the Squire's crippled daughter and later she +used to go to the Hall three times a week to read aloud to her. So, +notwithstanding the vicar's good intentions, she grew up to be neither +'fish, flesh, fowl, nor good red herring.' Now all went well till about +a year ago, when the Squire's eldest son returned home and fell in love +with her. His people naturally opposed the match and, as he is entirely +dependent upon them, there seemed no possibility of his marrying her. +The girl appeared broken-hearted, and when she came to the castle, every +one, the vicar included, thought the affair at an end. I am sure, +however, that such was not the case, for as no one at the vicarage wrote +to her daily, the letters she received must have come from her young +man. Furthermore, she told the servants that she had a cousin in +Newhaven, but as she has not a relative in the world, this is obviously +a falsehood. Who, then, is this mysterious person she visited? It seems +to me almost certain that it was her lover."</p> + +<p>"Possibly," agreed Cyril. "But I don't quite see what you are trying to +prove by all this. If Prentice did not help her Ladyship to escape, who +did?"</p> + +<p>"I have not said that Prentice is not a factor in the case, only I +believe her part to have been a very subordinate one. Of one thing, +however, I am sure, and that is that she did not return to Geralton on +the night of the murder."</p> + +<p>"How can you be sure of that?" demanded Cyril.</p> + +<p>"Because she asked for permission early in the morning to spend the +night in Newhaven and had already left the castle before the doctors' +visit terminated. Now, although I think it probable that her Ladyship +may for a long time have entertained the idea of leaving Geralton, yet I +believe that it was the doctors' visit that gave the necessary impetus +to convert her idle longing into definite action. Therefore I conclude +that Prentice could have had no knowledge of her mistress's sudden +flight."</p> + +<p>"But how can you know that the whole thing had not been carefully +premeditated?"</p> + +<p>"Because her Ladyship showed such agitation and distress at hearing the +doctors' verdict. If her plans for leaving the castle had been +completed, she would have accepted the situation more calmly."</p> + +<p>"Has nothing been heard of these doctors?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing. We have been able to trace them only as far as London. They +could not have been reputable physicians or they would have answered our +advertisements, and so I am inclined to believe that you were right and +that it was his Lordship who spread the rumours of her Ladyship's +insanity."</p> + +<p>"I am sure of it," said Cyril.</p> + +<p>"Very good. Assuming, therefore, that Lady Wilmersley is sane, we will +proceed to draw logical inferences from her actions." Judson paused a +moment before continuing: "Now I am convinced that the only connection +Prentice had with the affair was to procure some clothes for her +mistress, and these had probably been sometime in the latter's +possession."</p> + +<p>"H'm!" ejaculated Cyril sceptically. "I think it would have been pretty +difficult to have concealed anything from that maid of hers."</p> + +<p>"Difficult, I grant you, but not impossible, my lord."</p> + +<p>"But if Prentice had no knowledge of the tragedy, why did she not return +to the castle? What has become of her? Why have the police been unable +to find her?"</p> + +<p>"I believe that she joined her lover and that they are together on the +continent, for in Plumtree I was told that the young man had recently +gone to Paris. As I am sure that she knows nothing of any importance, I +thought it useless to waste time and money trying to discover their +exact locality. That the police have not succeeded in finding her, I +ascribe to the fact that they are looking for a young woman who left +Newhaven after and not before the murder."</p> + +<p>"You think she left before?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and I have two reasons for this supposition. First, I can discover +no place where he or she, either separately or together, could have +spent the night. Secondly, if they had left Newhaven the following +morning or in fact at any time after the murder, they would certainly +have been apprehended, as all the boats and trains were most carefully +watched."</p> + +<p>"But no one knew of her disappearance till twenty-four hours later, and +during that interval she could easily have got away unobserved."</p> + +<p>"No, my lord, there you are mistaken. From the moment that the police +were notified that a crime had been committed, every one, especially +every woman, who left Newhaven was most attentively scrutinised."</p> + +<p>"You are certain that Prentice could not have left Newhaven unnoticed, +yet her Ladyship managed to do so! How do you account for that?"</p> + +<p>The detective paused a moment and looked fixedly at Cyril.</p> + +<p>"Her Ladyship had a very powerful protector, my lord," he finally said.</p> + +<p>"A protector! Who?"</p> + +<p>Again the detective did not reply immediately.</p> + +<p>"It's no use beating about the bush, my lord, I know everything."</p> + +<p>"Well then, out with it," cried Cyril impatiently. "What are you +hesitating for? Have you found her Ladyship or have you not?"</p> + +<p>"I have, my lord."</p> + +<p>"You have! Then why on earth didn't you tell me at once? Where is she?" +cried Cyril.</p> + +<p>There was a pause during which the detective regarded Cyril through +narrowed lids.</p> + +<p>"She is at present at the nursing home of Dr. Stuart-Smith," he said at +last.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" exclaimed Cyril, sinking back into his chair and negligently +lighting another cigarette. "I thought you had discovered something. You +mean my wife, Lady Wilmersley——"</p> + +<p>"Pardon me for interrupting you, my lord. I don't make mistakes like +that. I repeat, the Dowager Lady Wilmersley is under the care of Dr. +Smith."</p> + +<p>The man's tone was so assured that Cyril was staggered for a moment.</p> + +<p>"It isn't true," he asserted angrily.</p> + +<p>"Is it possible that you really do not know who the lady is that you +rescued that day from the police?" exclaimed the detective, startled out +of his habitual impassivity.</p> + +<p>"I confess that I do not. But of one thing I am sure, and that is that +she is not the person you suppose."</p> + +<p>"Well, my lord, I must say that you have surprised me. Yet I ought to +have guessed it. It was stupid of me, very."</p> + +<p>"I tell you that you are on the wrong track. Lady Wilmersley has golden +hair. Well, this lady's hair is black."</p> + +<p>"She has dyed it."</p> + +<p>"She has not, for it has turned completely white," exclaimed Cyril, +triumphantly.</p> + +<p>"Did she tell you so?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Her Ladyship is cleverer than I supposed," remarked the detective with +a pitying smile.</p> + +<p>"I am not such a fool as you seem to think," retorted Cyril. "And I can +assure you that the lady in question is incapable of deception."</p> + +<p>"All I can say is, my lord, that I am absolutely sure of her Ladyship's +identity and that you yourself gave me the clue to her whereabouts."</p> + +<p>"I—how?"</p> + +<p>"I of course noticed that when you heard her Ladyship had golden hair, +you were not only extremely surprised but also very much relieved. I at +once asked myself why such an apparently trivial matter should have so +great and so peculiar an effect on you. As you had never seen her +Ladyship, I argued that you must that very day have met some one you had +reason to suppose to be Lady Wilmersley and that this person had dark +hair. By following your movements from the time you landed I found that +the only woman with whom you had come in contact was a young lady who +had joined you in Newhaven, and that she answered to the description of +Lady Wilmersley in every particular, with the sole exception that she +had dark hair! I was, however, told that you had said that she was your +wife and had produced a passport to prove it. Now I had heard from your +valet that her Ladyship was still in France, so you can hardly blame me +for doubting the correctness of your statement. But in order to make +assurance doubly sure, I sent one of my men to the continent. He +reported that her Ladyship had for some months been a patient at +Charleroi, but had recently escaped from there, and that you are still +employing detectives to find her."</p> + +<p>"I did not engage you to pry into my affairs," exclaimed Cyril savagely.</p> + +<p>"Nor have I exceeded my duty as I conceive it," retorted the detective. +"As your Lordship refused to honour me with your confidence, I had to +find out the facts by other means; and you must surely realise that +without facts it is impossible for me to construct a theory, and till I +can do that my work is practically valueless."</p> + +<p>"But my wife has nothing to do with the case."</p> + +<p>"Quite so, my lord, but a lady who claimed to be her Ladyship is +intimately concerned with it."</p> + +<p>"I repeat that is all nonsense."</p> + +<p>"If your Lordship will listen to me, I think I can prove to you that as +far as the lady's identity is concerned, I have made no mistake. But to +do this convincingly, I must reconstruct the tragedy as I conceive that +it happened."</p> + +<p>"Go ahead; I don't mind hearing your theory."</p> + +<p>"First, I must ask you to take it for granted that I am right in +believing that Prentice was ignorant of her Ladyship's flight."</p> + +<p>"I will admit that much," agreed Cyril.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, my lord. Now let us try and imagine exactly what was her +Ladyship's position on the night of the murder. Her first care must have +been to devise some means of eluding his Lordship's vigilance. This was +a difficult problem, for Mustapha tells me that his Lordship was not +only a very light sleeper but that he suffered from chronic insomnia. +You may or may not know that his Lordship had long been addicted to the +opium habit and would sometimes for days together lie in a stupor. Large +quantities of the drug were found in his room and that explains how her +Ladyship managed to get hold of the opium with which she doctored his +Lordship's coffee."</p> + +<p>"This is, however, mere supposition on your part," objected Cyril.</p> + +<p>"Not at all, my lord. I had the sediment of the two cups analysed and +the chemist found that one of them contained a small quantity of opium. +Her Ladyship, being practically ignorant as to the exact nature of the +drug and of the effect it would have on a man who was saturated with it, +gave his Lordship too small a dose. Nevertheless, he became immediately +stupefied."</p> + +<p>"Now, how on earth can you know that?"</p> + +<p>"Very easily, my lord. If his Lordship had not been rendered at once +unconscious, he would—knowing that an attempt had been made to drug +him—have sounded the alarm and deputed Mustapha to guard her Ladyship, +which was what he always did when he knew that he was not equal to the +task."</p> + +<p>"Well, that sounds plausible, at all events," acknowledged Cyril.</p> + +<p>"As soon as her Ladyship knew that she was no longer watched," continued +the detective, "she at once set to work to disguise herself. As we know, +she had provided herself with clothes, but I fancy her hair, her most +noticeable feature, must have caused her some anxious moments."</p> + +<p>"She may have worn a wig," suggested Cyril, hoping that Judson would +accept this explanation of the difficulty, in which case he would be +able triumphantly to demolish the latter's theory of the girl's +identity, by stating that he could positively swear that her hair was +her own.</p> + +<p>"No, my lord. After carefully investigating the matter I have come to +the conclusion that she did not. And my reasons are, first, that no +hairdresser in Newhaven has lately sold a dark wig to any one, and, +secondly, that no parcel arrived, addressed either to her Ladyship or to +Prentice, which could have contained such an article. On the other hand, +as his Lordship had for years dyed his hair and beard, her Ladyship had +only to go into his dressing-room to procure a very simple means of +transforming herself."</p> + +<p>"But doesn't it take ages to dye hair?" asked Cyril.</p> + +<p>"If it is done properly, yes; but the sort of stain his Lordship used +can be very quickly applied. I do not believe it took her Ladyship more +than half an hour to dye enough of her hair to escape notice, but in all +probability she had no time to do it very thoroughly and that which +escaped may have turned white. I don't know anything about that."</p> + +<p>This was a possibility which had not occurred to Cyril; but still he +refused to be convinced.</p> + +<p>"Very well, my lord. Let me continue my story: Before her Ladyship had +completed her preparations, his Lordship awoke from his stupor."</p> + +<p>"What makes you think that?"</p> + +<p>"Because, if his Lordship had not tried to prevent her escape, she would +have had no reason for killing him. Probably they had a struggle, her +hand fell on the pistol, and the deed was done——"</p> + +<p>"But what about the ruined picture?"</p> + +<p>"Her Ladyship, knowing that there was no other portrait of her in +existence, destroyed it in order to make it difficult for the police to +follow her."</p> + +<p>"H'm," grunted Cyril. "You make her Ladyship out a nice, cold-blooded, +calculating sort of person. If you think she at all resembles the young +lady at the nursing home, I can only tell you that you are vastly +mistaken."</p> + +<p>"As I have not the honour of knowing the lady in question, I cannot form +any opinion as to that. But let us continue: I wish to confess at once +that I am not at all sure how her Ladyship reached Newhaven. That +waiting automobile complicates matters. On the face of it, it seems as +if it must have some connection with the case. I have also a feeling +that it has, and yet for the life of me I cannot discover the connecting +link. Whatever the younger man was, the elder was undoubtedly a +Frenchman, and I have ascertained that with the exception of an old +French governess, who lived with her Ladyship before her marriage, and +of Mustapha and Valdriguez, Lady Wilmersley knew no foreigner whatever. +Besides, these two men seem to have been motoring about the country +almost at random, and it may have been the merest accident which brought +them to the foot of the long lane just at the time when her Ladyship was +in all probability leaving the castle. Whether they gave her a lift as +far as Newhaven, I do not know. How her Ladyship reached the town +constitutes the only serious—I will not call it break—but hiatus—in +my theory. From half-past six the next morning, however, her movements +can be easily followed. A young lady, dressed as you know, approached +the station with obvious nervousness. Three things attracted the +attention of the officials: first, the discrepancy between the +simplicity, I might almost say the poverty, of her clothes, and the fact +that she purchased a first-class ticket; secondly, that she did not wish +her features to be seen; and thirdly, that she had no luggage except a +small hand-bag. How her Ladyship managed to elude the police, and what +has subsequently occurred to her, I do not need to tell your Lordship."</p> + +<p>"You haven't in the least convinced me that the young lady is her +Ladyship, not in the least. You yourself admit that there is a hiatus in +your story; well, that hiatus is to me a gulf which you have failed to +bridge. Because one lady disappears from Geralton and another appears +the next morning in Newhaven, you insist the two are identical. But you +have not offered me one iota of proof that such is the case."</p> + +<p>"What more proof do you want? She is the only person who left Newhaven +by train or boat who even vaguely resembled her Ladyship."</p> + +<p>"That means nothing. Her Ladyship may not have come to Newhaven at all, +but have been driven to some hiding-place in the Frenchman's car."</p> + +<p>"I think that quite impossible, for every house, every cottage, every +stable and barn even, for twenty-five miles around, has been carefully +searched. Besides, this would mean that the murder had been premeditated +and the coming of the motor had been pre-arranged; and lastly, as the +gardener's wife testifies that the car left Geralton certainly no +earlier than eleven-thirty, and as the two men reached the hotel before +twelve, this precludes the possibility that they could have done more +than drive straight back to the Inn, as the motor is by no means a fast +one."</p> + +<p>"But, my man, they may have secreted her Ladyship in the town itself and +have taken her with them to France the next morning."</p> + +<p>"Impossible. In the first place, they left alone, the porter saw them +off; and secondly, no one except the two Frenchmen purchased a ticket +for the continent either in the Newhaven office or on the boat."</p> + +<p>Cyril rose from his seat. Judson's logic was horribly convincing; no +smallest detail had apparently escaped him. As the man piled argument on +argument, he had found himself slowly and grudgingly accepting his +conclusions.</p> + +<p>"As you are in my employ, I take it for granted that you will not inform +the police or the press of your—suspicions," he said at last.</p> + +<p>"Certainly not, my lord. On the other hand, I must ask you to allow me +to withdraw from the case."</p> + +<p>"But why?" exclaimed Cyril.</p> + +<p>"Because my duty to you, as my client, prevents me from taking any +further steps in this matter."</p> + +<p>"I don't understand you!"</p> + +<p>"I gather that you are less anxious to clear up the mystery than to +protect her Ladyship. Am I not right?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," acknowledged Cyril.</p> + +<p>"You would even wish me to assist you in providing a safe retreat for +her."</p> + +<p>"Exactly."</p> + +<p>"Well, my lord, that is just what I cannot do. It is my duty, as I +conceive it, to hold my tongue, but I should not feel justified in +aiding her Ladyship to escape the consequences of her—her—action. In +order to be faithful to my engagement to you, I am willing to let the +public believe that I have made a failure of the case. I shall not even +allow my imagination to dwell on your future movements, but more than +that I cannot do."</p> + +<p>"You take the position that her Ladyship is an ordinary criminal, but +you must realise that that is absurd. Even granting that she is +responsible for her husband's death—of which, by the way, we have no +absolute proof—are you not able to make allowances for a poor woman +goaded to desperation by an opium fiend?"</p> + +<p>"I do not constitute myself her Ladyship's judge, but I don't think your +Lordship quite realises all that you are asking of me. Even if I were +willing to waive the question of my professional honour, I should still +decline to undertake a task which, I know, is foredoomed to failure. +For, if <i>I</i> discovered Lady Wilmersley with so little difficulty, +Scotland Yard is bound to do so before long. The trail is too +unmistakable. It is impossible—absolutely impossible, I assure you, +that the secret can be kept."</p> + +<p>Cyril moved uneasily.</p> + +<p>"I wish I could convince your Lordship of this and induce you to allow +the law to take its course. Her Ladyship ought to come forward at once +and plead justifiable homicide. If she waits till she is arrested, it +will tell heavily against her."</p> + +<p>"But she is ill, really ill," insisted Cyril. "Dr. Stuart-Smith tells me +that if she is not kept perfectly quiet for the next few weeks, her +nervous system may never recover from the shock."</p> + +<p>"H'm! That certainly complicates the situation; on the other hand, you +must remember that discovery is not only inevitable but imminent, and +that the police will not stop to consider her Ladyship's nervous system. +No, my lord, the only thing for you to do is to break the news to her +yourself and to persuade her to give herself up. If you don't, you will +both live to regret it."</p> + +<p>"That may be so," replied Cyril after a minute's hesitation, "but in +this matter I must judge for myself. I still hope that you are wrong and +that either the young woman in question is not Lady Wilmersley or that +it was not her Ladyship who killed my cousin, and I refuse to jeopardise +her life till I am sure that there is no possibility of your having made +a mistake. But don't throw up the case yet. So far you have only sought +for evidence which would strengthen your theory of her Ladyship's guilt, +now I want you to look at the case from a fresh point of view. I want +you to start all over again and to work on the assumption that her +Ladyship did not fire the shot. I cannot accept your conclusion as final +till we have exhausted every other possibility. These Frenchmen, for +instance, have they or have they not a connection with the case? And +then there is Valdriguez. Why have you never suspected her? At the +inquest she acknowledged that no one had seen her leave her Ladyship's +apartments and we have only her word for it that she spent the evening +in her room."</p> + +<p>"True. But, if I went on the principle of suspecting every one who +cannot prove themselves innocent, I should soon be lost in a quagmire of +barren conjectures. Of course, I have considered Valdriguez, but I can +find no reason for suspecting her."</p> + +<p>"Well, I could give you a dozen reasons."</p> + +<p>"Indeed, my lord, and what are they?"</p> + +<p>"In the first place, we know that she is a hard, unprincipled woman, or +she would never have consented to aid my cousin in depriving his +unfortunate wife of her liberty. A woman who would do that, is capable +of any villainy. Then, on the witness-stand didn't you feel that she was +holding something back? Oh, I forgot you were not present at the +inquest."</p> + +<p>"I was there, my lord, but I took good care that no one should recognise +me."</p> + +<p>"Well, and what impression did she make on you?"</p> + +<p>"A fairly favourable one, my lord. I think she spoke the truth and I +fancy that she is almost a religious fanatic."</p> + +<p>"You don't mean to say, Judson, that you allowed yourself to be taken in +by her sanctimonious airs and the theatrical way that she kept clutching +at that cross on her breast? A religious fanatic indeed! Why, don't you +see that no woman with a spark of religion in her could have allowed her +mistress to be treated as Lady Wilmersley was?"</p> + +<p>"Quite so, my lord, and it is because Valdriguez impressed me as an +honest old creature that I am still doubtful whether her Ladyship is +insane or not, and this uncertainty hampers me very much in my work."</p> + +<p>"Lady Upton assured me that her granddaughter's mind had never been +unbalanced and that his Lordship, although he frequently wrote to her, +had never so much as hinted at such a thing; and if you believe the +young lady at the nursing home to be Lady Wilmersley, I give you my word +that she shows no sign of mental derangement."</p> + +<p>"Well, that seems pretty final, and yet—and yet—I cannot believe that +Valdriguez is a vicious woman. A man in my profession acquires a curious +instinct in such matters, my lord." The detective paused a moment and +when he began again, he spoke almost as if he were reasoning with +himself. "Now, if my estimate of Valdriguez is correct, and if it is +also a fact that Lady Wilmersley has never been insane, there are +certainly possibilities connected with this affair which I have by no +means exhausted—and so, my lord, I am not only willing but anxious to +continue on the case, if you will agree to allow me to ignore her +Ladyship's existence."</p> + +<p>"Certainly. But tell me, Judson, how can you hope to reconcile two such +absolutely contradictory facts?"</p> + +<p>"Two such apparently contradictory facts," gently corrected the +detective. "Well, my lord, I propose to find out more of this woman's +antecedents. I have several times tried to get her to talk, but so far +without the least success. She says that she will answer any question +put to her on the witness-stand, but that it is against her principles +to gossip about her late master and mistress. She is equally reticent as +to her past life and when I told her that her silence seemed to me very +suspicious, she demanded—suspicious of what? She went on to say that +she could not see that it was anybody's business, where she lived or +what she had done, and that she had certainly no intention of gratifying +my idle curiosity; and that was the last word I could get out of her. +Although she treated me so cavalierly, I confess to a good deal of +sympathy with her attitude."</p> + +<p>"Have you questioned Mrs. Eversley about her?" asked Cyril. "She was +housekeeper here when Valdriguez first came to Geralton and ought to be +able to tell you what sort of person she was in her youth."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Eversley speaks well of her. The only thing she told me which may +have a bearing on the case is, that in the old days his Lordship +appeared to admire Valdriguez very much."</p> + +<p>"Ah! I thought so," cried Cyril.</p> + +<p>"But we cannot be too sure of this, my lord. For when I tried to find +out what grounds she had for her statement, she had so little proof to +offer that I cannot accept her impression as conclusive evidence. As far +as I can make out, the gossip about them was started by his Lordship +going to the Catholic church in Newhaven."</p> + +<p>"By going to the Catholic church!" exclaimed Cyril.</p> + +<p>"Exactly. Not a very compromising act on his Lordship's part, one would +think. But as his Lordship was not a Catholic, his doing so naturally +aroused a good deal of comment. At first the neighbourhood feared that +he had been converted by his mother, who had often lamented that she had +not been allowed to bring up her son in her own faith. It was soon +noticed, however, that whenever his Lordship attended a popish service, +his mother's pretty maid was invariably present, and so people began to +put two and two together and before long it was universally assumed that +she was the magnet which had drawn him away from his own church. I asked +Mrs. Eversley if they had been seen together elsewhere, and she +reluctantly admitted that they had. On several occasions they were seen +walking in the Park but always, so Mrs. Eversley assured me, in full +view of the castle. She had felt it her duty to speak to Valdriguez on +the subject, and the latter told her that his Lordship was interested in +her religion and that she was willing to run the risk of having her +conduct misconstrued if she could save his soul from eternal damnation. +She also gave Mrs. Eversley to understand that she had her mistress's +sanction, and as her Ladyship treated Valdriguez more as a companion and +friend than as a maid, Mrs. Eversley thought this quite likely and did +not venture to remonstrate further. So the intimacy, if such it could be +called, continued as before. What the outcome of this state of things +would have been we do not know, for shortly afterwards both Lord and +Lady Wilmersley died and Valdriguez left Geralton. When his Lordship +went away a few weeks later, a good many people suspected that he had +joined her on the continent. Mrs. Eversley, however, does not believe +this. She has the most absolute confidence in Valdriguez's virtue, and I +think her testimony is pretty reliable."</p> + +<p>"Bah! Mrs. Eversley is an honest, simple old soul. A clever adventuress +would have little difficulty in hoodwinking her. Mark my words, you have +found the key to the mystery. What more likely than that his +Lordship—whose morals, even as a boy, were none of the best—seduced +Valdriguez and that she returned to Geralton so as to have the +opportunity of avenging her wrongs."</p> + +<p>"I can think of nothing more unlikely than that his Lordship should have +selected his cast-off mistress as his wife's attendant," Judson drily +remarked.</p> + +<p>"Not at all. You didn't know him," replied Cyril. "I can quite fancy +that the situation would have appealed to his cynical humour."</p> + +<p>"Your opinion of the late Lord Wilmersley is certainly not flattering, +but even if we take for granted that such an arrangement would not have +been impossible to his Lordship, I still refuse to believe that +Valdriguez would have agreed to it; even assuming that his Lordship had +wronged her and that she had nursed a murderous resentment against him +all these years, I cannot see how she could have hoped to further her +object by accepting the humiliating position of his wife's maid. It also +seems to me incredible that a woman whose passions were so violent as to +find expression in murder could have controlled them during a lifetime. +But leaving aside these considerations, I have another reason to urge +against your theory: Would his Lordship have trusted a woman who, he +knew, had a grievance against him, as he certainly trusted Valdriguez? +She had free access to his apartments. What was there to have prevented +her from giving him an overdose of some drug during one of the many +times when he was half-stupefied with opium? Nothing. The risk of +detection would have been infinitesimal. No, my lord, why Valdriguez +returned to Geralton is an enigma, I grant you, but your explanation +does not satisfy me."</p> + +<p>"As long as you acknowledge that Valdriguez's presence here needs an +explanation and are willing to work to find that explanation, I don't +care whether you accept my theory or not; all I want to get at is the +truth."</p> + +<p>"The truth, my lord," said the detective, as he rose to take his leave, +"is often more praised than appreciated."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<h3>FINGER PRINTS IN THE DUST</h3> + + +<p>As Cyril sat toying with his dinner, it was little by little borne in on +him that the butler had something on his mind. How he got this +impression he really did not know, for Douglas performed his duties as +precisely, as unobtrusively as ever. Yet long before the last course had +been reached, Cyril was morally certain that he had not been mistaken. +He waited for the dessert to be placed on the table; then, having +motioned the footmen to leave the room, he half turned to the butler, +who was standing behind his chair.</p> + +<p>"Douglas."</p> + +<p>"Yes, my lord?" The man stepped forward, so as to face his master.</p> + +<p>"Is anything the matter?" asked Cyril, scrutinising the other +attentively.</p> + +<p>The abrupt question seemed neither to surprise nor to discompose the +butler; yet he hesitated before finally answering:</p> + +<p>"I—I don't quite know, my lord."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" exclaimed Cyril impatiently. "You must know whether or not +something has happened to upset you."</p> + +<p>Douglas fidgeted uneasily.</p> + +<p>"Well, my lord—it's this way, my lord—Susan, the upper 'ousemaid, says +as how there has been somebody or—" here his voice sank to a whisper +and he cast an apprehensive glance over his shoulder—"or something in +the library last night!"</p> + +<p>Cyril put down the glass of wine he was carrying to his lips untasted.</p> + +<p>"She thinks she saw a ghost in the library?"</p> + +<p>"No, my lord. She didn't see anything, but this morning she found +finger-marks on the top of his Lordship's desk."</p> + +<p>"Pooh! What of that? One of the servants may have gone in there out of +curiosity."</p> + +<p>"But what would anybody be doing there in the night, I should like to +know? And Susan says those marks could only 'ave been made last night, +my lord."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"On account of the dust, my lord. It takes time for dust to settle and a +'ousemaid, who knows 'er business, can tell, after she's been in a place +a couple of months, just about 'ow long it's been since any particular +piece of furniture has been dusted. Aye, Susan knows, my lord. No young +'ousemaid can pull the wool over 'er eyes, I can tell you."</p> + +<p>"Does every one know of Susan's suspicions?"</p> + +<p>"No, my lord. Susan's a sensible woman, and though she was frightened +something terrible, she only told Mrs. Eversley and Mrs. Eversley told +me and we three agreed we'd hold our tongues. Every one's that upset as +it is, that they'd all 'ave 'ighstrikes if they knew that It was +walking."</p> + +<p>"Don't be a fool, Douglas. No one believes in ghosts nowadays. But even +if there were such things, an intangible spirit couldn't possibly leave +finger-marks behind it."</p> + +<p>"But, my lord, if you'll excuse me, my aunt's cousin—" began the +butler, but Cyril cut him short.</p> + +<p>"I have no time now to hear about your aunt's cousin, though no doubt it +is a most interesting story. Send Susan to me at once."</p> + +<p>"Very good, my lord."</p> + +<p>Susan had, however, no further information to impart. She was positive +that the marks must have been made some time during the night.</p> + +<p>"And it's my belief they were made by a skeleton hand," she added. "And +as for going into that room again, indeed I just couldn't, not for +nobody, meaning no disrespect to your Lordship; and as for the other +'ousemaids, they'll not go near the place either and haven't been since +the murder."</p> + +<p>"Very well, Susan, I shall not ask you to do so. Those rooms shall not +be opened again till this mystery is cleared up. I will go now and lock +them up myself."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, my lord."</p> + +<p>Striding rapidly across the hall, Cyril opened the door of the library. +This part of the castle had been equipped with electric light and steam +heat, and as he stepped into the darkness, the heavy-scented air almost +made him reel. Having found the switch, he noticed at once that the room +had indefinably changed since he had been in it last. Notwithstanding +the heat, notwithstanding the flood of crimson light, which permeated +even the farthest corners, it had already assumed the chill, gloomy +aspect of an abandoned apartment.</p> + +<p>Stooping over the desk, he eagerly inspected the marks which had so +startled the housemaid. Yes, they were still quite visible, although a +delicate film of dust had already begun to soften the precision of their +outline—very strange! They certainly did look like the imprint of +skeleton fingers. He laid his own hand on the desk. His fingers left a +mark at least twice as wide as those of the mysterious visitant.</p> + +<p>For a long time he stood with bent head pondering deeply; then, throwing +back his shoulders, as if he had arrived at some decision, he proceeded +to explore the entire suite. Having satisfied himself that no one was +secreted on the premises, he turned off the light, shut the door—but he +did not turn the key.</p> + +<p>Some hours later Cyril, in his great four-posted bed, lay watching, with +wide-open eyes, the fantastic shadows thrown by the dancing firelight on +the panelled walls. To woo sleep was evidently not his intention, for +from time to time he lighted a wax vesta and consulted the watch he held +in his hand. At last the hour seemed to satisfy him, for he got out of +bed and made a hasty toilet. Having accomplished this as best he could +in the semi-obscurity, he slipped a pistol into his pocket and left his +room.</p> + +<p>Groping his way through the darkness, he descended the stairs and +cautiously traversed the hall. Not a sound did he make. His stockinged +feet moved noiselessly over the heavy carpet. At the door of the library +he paused a moment and listened intently; then, pistol in hand, he threw +open the door. Darkness and silence alone confronted him. Closing the +door behind him, he lighted a match and carefully inspected the desk. +Having assured himself that no fresh marks had appeared on its polished +surface, he blew out the match and ensconced himself as comfortably as +the limited space permitted behind the curtains of one of the windows. +There he waited patiently for what seemed to him an eternity. He had +just begun to fear that his vigil would prove fruitless, when his ear +was gladdened by a slight sound. A moment later the light was switched +on. Hardly daring to breathe, Cyril peered through the curtains. +Valdriguez! Cyril's heart gave a bound of exultation. Had he not guessed +that those marks could only have been made by her small, bony fingers?</p> + +<p>Clad like a nun in a loose, black garment, which fell in straight, +austere folds to her feet; a black shawl, thrown over her head, casting +strange shadows on her pale, haggard face, she advanced slowly, almost +majestically, into the room. Cyril had to acknowledge that she looked +more like a medieval saint than a midnight marauder.</p> + +<p>Evidently the woman had no fear of detection, for she never even cast +one suspicious glance around her; nor did she appear to feel that there +was any necessity for haste, for she lingered for some time near the +writing-table, gazing at it, as if it had a fascination for her; but, +finally, she turned away with a hopeless sigh and directed her attention +to the bookcase. This she proceeded to examine in the most methodical +manner. Book after book was taken down, shaken, and the binding +carefully scrutinised. Having cleared a shelf, she drew a tape measure +from her pocket and rapped and measured the back and sides of the case +itself.</p> + +<p>What on earth could she be looking for, wondered Cyril. Not a will, +surely? For his cousin's will, executed at the date of his marriage, had +been found safely deposited with his solicitor. A later will, perhaps? +One in which she hoped that her master had remembered her, as he had +probably promised her that he would? Yes, that must be it.</p> + +<p>Well, there was no further need of concealment, he decided, so, parting +the curtains, he stepped into the room.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing here?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>His own voice startled him, it rang out so loud and harsh in the silence +of the night.</p> + +<p>Valdriguez knelt on the floor with her back to him, and it seemed as if +the sudden shock had paralysed her, for she made no effort to move, and +her hand, arrested in the act of replacing a book, remained +outstretched, as if it had been turned to stone.</p> + +<p>"It is I, your master. What are you doing here?" he repeated.</p> + +<p>He saw her shudder convulsively, then slowly she raised her head, and as +her great, tragic eyes met his, Cyril was conscious of a revulsion of +feeling toward her. Never had he seen anything so hopeless yet so +undaunted as the look she gave him. It reminded him, curiously enough, +of a look he had once seen in the eyes of a lioness, who, with a bullet +through her heart, still fought to protect her young.</p> + +<p>Staggering a little as she rose, Valdriguez nevertheless managed to draw +herself up to her full height.</p> + +<p>"I am here, my lord, to get what is mine—mine," she repeated almost +fiercely.</p> + +<p>Cyril pulled himself together. It was absurd, he reasoned, to allow +himself to be impressed by her strange personality.</p> + +<p>"A likely story!" he exclaimed; and the very fact that he was more than +half-inclined to believe her, made him speak more roughly than he would +otherwise have done.</p> + +<p>"Think what you like," she cried, shrugging her shoulders +contemptuously. "Have me arrested—have me hung—what do I care? Death +has no terrors for me."</p> + +<p>"So you confess that it was you who murdered his Lordship? Ah, I +suspected it! Your sanctimonious airs didn't deceive me," exclaimed +Cyril triumphantly.</p> + +<p>"No, I did not murder him," she replied calmly, almost indifferently.</p> + +<p>"I think you will have some difficulty convincing the police of that. +You have no alibi to prove that you were not in these rooms at the time +of the murder, and now when I tell them that I found you trying to +steal——"</p> + +<p>"I am no thief," she interrupted him with blazing eyes. "I tell you, I +came here to get what is mine by right."</p> + +<p>"Do you really expect me to believe that? Even if what you say were +true, you would not have had to sneak in here in the middle of the +night. You know very well that I should have made no objections to your +claiming your own."</p> + +<p>"So you say. But if I had gone to you and told you that a great lord had +robbed me, a poor woman, of something which is dearer to me than life +itself, would you have believed me? If I had said to you, 'I must look +through his Lordship's papers; I must be free to search everywhere,' +would you have given me permission to do so? No, never. You think I fear +you? That it was because I was ashamed of my errand that I came here at +this hour? Bah! All I feared was that I should be prevented from +discovering the truth. The truth?" Valdriguez's voice suddenly dropped +and she seemed to forget Cyril's presence. "It is here, somewhere." She +continued speaking as if to herself and her wild eyes swept feverishly +around the room. "He told me it was here—and yet how can I be sure of +it? He may have lied to me about this as he did about everything else. +How can I tell? Oh, this uncertainty is torture! I cannot bear it any +longer, oh, my God!" she cried, clasping her hands and lifting her +streaming eyes to heaven, "Thou knowest that I have striven all my life +to do Thy will; I have borne the cross that Thou sawest fit to lay upon +me without a murmur, nor have I once begged for mercy at Thy hands; but +now, now, oh, my Father, I beseech thee, give me to know the truth +before I die——"</p> + +<p>Cyril watched the woman narrowly. He felt that he must try and maintain +a judicial attitude toward her and not allow himself to be led astray by +his sympathies which, as he knew to his cost, were only too easily +aroused. After all, he reasoned, was it not more than likely that she +was delivering this melodramatic tirade for his benefit? On the other +hand, it was against his principles as well as against his inclinations +to deal harshly with a woman.</p> + +<p>"Calm yourself, Valdriguez," he said at last. "If you can convince me +that his Lordship had in his possession something which rightfully +belonged to you, I promise that, if it can be found, it shall be +restored to you. Tell me, what it is that you are looking for?"</p> + +<p>"Tell you—never! Are you not of his blood? You promise—so did he—the +smooth-tongued villain! All these years have I lived on promises! Never +will I trust one of his race again."</p> + +<p>"You have got to trust me whether you want to or not. Your position +could not be worse than it is, could it? Don't you see that your only +hope lies in being able to persuade me that you are an honest woman?"</p> + +<p>For the first time Valdriguez looked at Cyril attentively. He felt as if +her great eyes were probing his very soul.</p> + +<p>"Indeed, you do not look cruel or deceitful. And, as you say, I am +powerless without you, so I must take the risk of your being what you +seem. I will tell you the truth. But first, my lord, will you swear not +to betray my secret to any living being?"</p> + +<p>"You have my word for it. That is—" he hastily added, "if it has +nothing to do with the murder."</p> + +<p>"Nothing, my lord."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<h3>THE STORY OF A WRONG</h3> + + +<p>Cyril waited for her to continue, but for a long time it seemed doubtful +if she would have the courage to do so.</p> + +<p>"I am looking," she said at last, speaking slowly and with a visible +effort, "for a paper which will tell me whether my—son is alive or +dead."</p> + +<p>"Your son? So you were his Lordship's mistress——"</p> + +<p>"Before God I was his wife! I am no wanton, my lord!"</p> + +<p>"The old story—" began Cyril, but Valdriguez stopped him with a furious +gesture.</p> + +<p>"Do not dare to say that my child's mother was a loose woman! I will not +permit it. Arthur Wilmersley—may his Maker judge him as he +deserves—wrecked my life, but at least he never doubted my virtue. He +knew that the only way to get me was to marry me."</p> + +<p>"So he actually married you?" exclaimed Cyril.</p> + +<p>"No—but for a long time I believed that he had. How could a young, +innocent girl have suspected that the man she loved was capable of such +cold-blooded deception? Even now, I cannot blame myself for having +fallen into the trap he baited with such fiendish cunning. Think of +it—he induced me to consent to a secret marriage by promising that if I +made this sacrifice for his sake, he would become a convert to my +religion—my religion! And as we stood together before the altar, I +remember that I thanked God for giving me this opportunity of saving a +soul from destruction. I never dreamed that the church he took me to was +nothing but an old ruin he had fitted up as a chapel for the occasion. +How could I guess that the man who married us was not a priest but a +mountebank, whom he had hired to act the part?"</p> + +<p>Valdriguez bowed her head and the tears trickled through her thin +fingers.</p> + +<p>"I know that not many people would believe you but, well—I do." It +seemed to Cyril as if the words sprang to his lips unbidden.</p> + +<p>"Then indeed you are a good man," exclaimed Valdriguez, "for it is given +only to honest people to have a sure ear for the truth. Now it will be +easier to tell you the rest. Some weeks after we had gone through this +ceremony, first Lord and then Lady Wilmersley died; on her deathbed I +confided to my lady that I was her son's wife and she gave me her +blessing. My humble birth she forgave—after all it was less humble than +her own—and was content that her son had chosen a girl of her own race +and faith. As soon as the funeral was over, I urged my husband to +announce our marriage, but he would not. He proposed that we should go +for a while to the continent so that on our return it would be taken for +granted that we had been married there, and in this way much unpleasant +talk avoided. So we went to Paris and there we lived together openly as +man and wife, not indeed under his name but under mine. He pretended +that he wanted for once to see the world from the standpoint of the +people; that he desired for a short time to be free from the +restrictions of his rank. I myself dreaded so much entering a class so +far above me that I was glad of the chance of spending a few more months +in obscurity. For some weeks I was happy, then Lord Wilmersley began to +show himself to me as he really was. We had taken a large apartment near +the Luxembourg, and soon it became the meeting-ground for the most +reckless element of the Latin Quarter. Ah, if you but knew what sights I +saw, what things I heard in those days! I feared that my very soul was +being polluted, so I consulted a priest as to what I should do. He told +me it was my duty to remain constantly at my husband's side; with prayer +and patience I might some day succeed in reforming him. So I stayed in +that hell and bore the insults and humiliations he heaped upon me +without a murmur. Now, looking back on the past, I think my meekness and +resignation only exasperated him, for he grew more and more cruel and +seemed to think of nothing but how to torture me into revolt. Whether I +should have been given the strength to endure indefinitely, the life he +led me I do not know, but one evening, when we were as usual +entertaining a disreputable rabble, a young man entered. I recognised +him at once. It was the man who had married us! He was dressed in a +brown velveteen suit; a red sash encircled his waist; and on his arm he +flaunted a painted woman. Imagine my feelings! I stood up and turned to +my husband. I could not speak—and he, the man I had loved, only +laughed—laughed! Never shall I forget the sound of that laughter....</p> + +<p>"That night my child was born. That was twenty-eight years ago, but it +seems as if it were but yesterday that I held his small, warm body in my +arms.... Then comes a period of which I remember nothing, and when I +finally recovered my senses, they told me my child was dead.... As soon +as I was able to travel, I returned to my old home in Seville and there +I lived, working and praying—praying for my own soul and for that of my +poor baby, who had died without receiving the sacrament of baptism.... +Years passed. I had become resigned to my lot, when one day I received a +letter from Lord Wilmersley. Oh! If I had only destroyed it unopened, +how much anguish would have been spared me! But at first when I read it, +I thought my happiness would have killed me, for Lord Wilmersley wrote +that my boy was not dead and that if I would meet him in Paris, he would +give me further news of him. I hesitated not a moment. At once did I set +out on my journey. On arriving in Paris I went to the hotel he had +indicated and was shown into a private <i>salon</i>. There for the first time +in a quarter of a century I saw again the man I had once regarded as my +husband. At first I had difficulty in recognising him, for now his true +character was written in every line of his face and figure. But I hardly +gave a thought either to him or to my wrongs, so great was my impatience +to hear news of my son.... Then that fiend began to play with me as a +cat with a mouse. Yes, my boy lived, had made his way in the world—that +was all he would tell me. My child had been adopted by some well-to-do +people, who had brought him up as their own—no, I needn't expect to +hear another word. Yes, he was a fine, strong lad—he would say no +more.... Can you imagine the scene? Finally, having wrought me up to the +point where I would have done anything to wring the truth from him, he +said to me: 'I have recently married a young wife and I am not such a +fool as to trust my honour in the keeping of a girl who married an old +man like me for his money. Now I have a plan to propose to you. Come and +live with her as her maid and help me to guard her from all eyes, and if +you fulfil your duties faithfully, at the end of three years I promise +that you shall see your son.'</p> + +<p>"His revolting proposition made my blood boil. Never, never, I told him, +would I accept such a humiliating situation. He merely shrugged his +shoulders and said that in that case I need never hope to hear what had +become of my son. I raved, threatened, pleaded, but he remained +inflexible, and finally I agreed to do his bidding."</p> + +<p>"So you, who call yourself a Christian, actually consented to help that +wretch to persecute his unfortunate young wife?" demanded Cyril sternly.</p> + +<p>Valdriguez flung her head back defiantly.</p> + +<p>"His wife? What was she to me? Besides, had she not taken him for better +or worse? Why should I have helped her to break the bonds her own vows +had imposed on her? He did not ill-treat her, far from it. He deprived +her of her liberty, but what of that? A nun has even less freedom than +she had. What were her sufferings compared to mine? Think of it, day +after day I had to stand aside and watch the man I had once looked upon +as my husband, lavish his love, his thought, his very life indeed, on +that pretty doll. Although I no longer loved him, my flesh quivered at +the sight."</p> + +<p>"Nevertheless—" began Cyril.</p> + +<p>"My lord, I care not for your judgment nor for that of any man. I came +here to find my son. Would you have had me give up that sacred task +because a pink and white baby wanted to flaunt her beauty before the +world? Ah, no! Lady Wilmersley's fate troubles me not at all; but what +breaks my heart is that, as Arthur died just before the three years were +up, I fear that now I shall never know what has become of my boy. +Sometimes I have feared that he is dead—but no, I will not believe it! +My boy lives! I feel it!" she cried, striking her breast. "And in this +room—perhaps within reach of my hand as I stand here—is the paper +which would tell me where he is. Ah, my lord, I beg, I entreat you to +help me to find it!"</p> + +<p>"I will gladly do so, but what reason have you for supposing that there +is such a paper?"</p> + +<p>"It is true that I have only Lord Wilmersley's word for it," she +replied, and her voice sounded suddenly hopeless. "Yet not once but many +times he said to me: 'I have a paper in which is written all you wish to +know, but as I do not trust you, I have hidden it, yes, in this very +room have I hidden it.' And now he is dead and I cannot find it! Oh, +what shall I do? What shall I do?"</p> + +<p>"Even if we cannot find the paper, there are other means of tracing your +son. We will advertise——"</p> + +<p>"Never!" she interrupted him vehemently. "I will never consent to do +anything which might reveal to him the secret of his birth. I would long +ago have taken steps to find him, if I had not realised that I could not +do so without taking a number of people into my confidence, and, if I +did that, the story of my shame would be bound to leak out. Not for +myself did I care, but for him. Think of it, if what Lord Wilmersley +told me was true, he holds an honourable position, believes himself the +son of respectable parents. Would it not be horrible, if he should +suddenly learn that he is the nameless child of a servant girl and a +villain? The fear that he should somehow discover the truth is always +before me. That is why I made you swear to keep my secret."</p> + +<p>"Of course, I will do as you wish, but I assure you that you exaggerate +the risk. Still, let us first search this room thoroughly; then, if we +do not find the paper, it will be time enough to decide what we shall do +next."</p> + +<p>"Ah, my lord, you are very good to me and may God reward you as you +deserve. Day and night will I pray for you." And to Cyril's dismay, +Valdriguez suddenly bent down and covered his hands with kisses.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + +<h3>GUY RELENTS</h3> + + +<p>Cyril and Valdriguez spent the next morning making a thorough search of +the library, but the paper they were looking for could not be found. +Cyril had from the first been sceptical of success. He could not believe +that her child was still alive and was convinced that Arthur Wilmersley +had fabricated the story simply to retain his hold over the unfortunate +mother. Valdriguez, however, for a long time refused to abandon the +quest. Again and again she ransacked places they had already carefully +examined. When it was finally borne in upon her that there was no +further possibility of finding what she so sought, the light suddenly +went out of her face and she would have fallen if Cyril had not caught +her and placed her in a chair. With arms hanging limply to her sides, +her half-closed eyes fixed vacantly in front of her, she looked as if +death had laid his hand upon her. Thoroughly alarmed, Cyril had the +woman carried to her room and sent for a doctor. When the latter +arrived, he shook his head hopelessly. She had had a stroke; there was +very little he could do for her. In his opinion it was extremely +doubtful if she would ever fully recover her faculties, he said.</p> + +<p>Cyril having made every possible arrangement for the comfort of the +afflicted woman, at last allowed his thoughts to revert to his own +troubles.</p> + +<p>He realised that with the elimination of both Valdriguez and Prentice +there was no one but Anita left who could reasonably be suspected of the +murder; for that the two Frenchmen were implicated in the affair, was +too remote a possibility to be seriously considered. No, he must make up +his mind to face the facts: the girl was Anita Wilmersley and she had +killed her husband! What was he going to do, now that he knew the truth? +Judson's advice that Anita should give herself up, he rejected without a +moment's hesitation. Yet, he had to acknowledge that there was little +hope of her being able to escape detection, as long as the police knew +her to be alive.... Suddenly an idea occurred to him. If they could only +be made to believe that she was dead, that and that alone would free her +at once and forever from their surveillance. She would be able to leave +England; to resume her life in some distant country where he.... Cyril +shrank instinctively from pursuing the delicious dream further. He tried +to force himself to consider judicially the scheme that was shaping +itself in his mind; to weigh calmly and dispassionately the chances for +and against its success. If a corpse resembling Anita were found, +dressed in the clothes she wore the day she left Geralton, it would +surely be taken for granted that the body was hers and that she had been +murdered. But how on earth was he to procure such a corpse and, having +procured it, where was he to hide it? The neighbourhood of the castle +had been so thoroughly searched that it would be no easy task to +persuade the police that they had overlooked any spot where a body might +be secreted. Certainly the plan presented almost insurmountable +difficulties, but as it was the only one he could think of, Cyril clung +to it with bull-dog tenacity.</p> + +<p>"Impossible? Nonsense! Nothing is impossible! Impossible is but a word +designed to shield the incompetent or frighten the timid," he muttered +loudly in his heart, unconsciously squaring his broad shoulders.</p> + +<p>He decided to leave Geralton at once, for the plan must be carried out +immediately or not at all, and it was only in London that he could hope +to procure the necessary assistance.</p> + +<p>On arriving in town, however, Cyril had to admit that he had really no +idea what he ought to do next. If he could only get in touch with an +impoverished medical student who would agree to provide a body, the +first and most difficult part of his undertaking would be achieved. But +how and where was he to find this indispensable accomplice? Well, it was +too late to do anything that evening, he decided. He might as well go to +the club and get some dinner and try to dismiss the problem from his +mind for the time being.</p> + +<p>The first person he saw on entering the dining-room was Campbell. He was +sitting by himself at a small table; his round, rosy face depicted the +utmost dejection and he thrust his fork through an oyster with much the +same expression a man might have worn who was spearing a personal enemy.</p> + +<p>On catching sight of Cyril, he dropped his fork, jumped from his seat, +and made an eager step forward. Then, he suddenly wavered, evidently +uncertain as to the reception Cyril was going to accord him.</p> + +<p>"Well, this is a piece of luck!" cried Cyril, stretching out his hand.</p> + +<p>Guy, looking decidedly sheepish, clasped it eagerly.</p> + +<p>"I might as well tell you at once that I know I made no end of an ass of +myself the other day," he said, averting his eyes from his friend's +face. "It is really pretty decent of you not to have resented my +ridiculous accusations."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's all right," Cyril assured him, "I quite understood your +motive. But I am awfully glad you have changed your attitude towards me, +for to tell you the truth, I am in great need of your assistance."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lor'!" ejaculated Campbell, screwing up his face into an expression +of comic despair.</p> + +<p>As soon as there was no danger of their being overheard, Cyril told +Campbell of his interview with Judson. At first Guy could not be +persuaded that the girl was Anita Wilmersley.</p> + +<p>"She is not a liar, I am sure of it! If she said that her hair had +turned white, it had turned white, and therefore it is impossible that +she had dyed it," objected Campbell.</p> + +<p>"Judson suggested that she dyed only part of her hair and that it was +the rest which turned white."</p> + +<p>Having finally convinced Guy that there was no doubt as to the girl's +identity, Cyril proceeded to unfold his plan for rescuing her from the +police.</p> + +<p>Guy adjusted his eye-glass and stared at his friend speechless with +consternation.</p> + +<p>"This affair has turned your brain," he finally gasped. "Your plan is +absurd, absolutely absurd, I tell you. Why, even if I could bribe some +one to procure me a corpse, how on earth could you get it to Geralton?"</p> + +<p>"In a motor-car."</p> + +<p>"And where under Heaven are you to hide it?"</p> + +<p>"Get me a corpse and I will arrange the rest," Cyril assured him with +more confidence than he really felt.</p> + +<p>"First you saddle me with a lot of stolen jewels and now you want me to +travel around the country with a corpse under my arm! I say, you do +select nice, pleasant jobs for me!" exclaimed Campbell.</p> + +<p>"Have you any other plan to suggest?" asked Cyril.</p> + +<p>"Can't say I have," acknowledged Guy.</p> + +<p>"Are you willing to sit still and see Anita Wilmersley arrested?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly not, but your scheme is a mad one—madder than anything I +should have credited even you with having conceived." Campbell paused a +moment as if considering the question in all its aspects. "However, the +fact that it is crazy may save us. The police will not be likely to +suspect two reputable members of society, whose sanity has so far not +been doubted, of attempting to carry through such a wild, impossible +plot. Yes," he mused, "the very impossibility of the thing may make it +possible."</p> + +<p>"Glad you agree with me," cried Cyril enthusiastically. "Now how soon +can you get a corpse, do you think?"</p> + +<p>"Good Lord, man! You talk as if I could order one from Whiteley's. When +can I get you a corpse—indeed? To-morrow—in a week—a month—a +year—never. The last-mentioned date I consider the most likely. I will +do what I can, that is all I can say; but how I am to go to work, upon +my word, I haven't the faintest idea."</p> + +<p>"You are an awfully clever chap, Guy."</p> + +<p>"None of your blarney. I won't have it! I am the absolute fool, but I am +still sane enough to know it."</p> + +<p>"Very well, I'll acknowledge that you are a fool and I only wish there +were more like you," said Cyril, clapping his friend affectionately on +the back.</p> + +<p>"By the way," he added, turning away as if in search of a match and +trying to speak as carelessly as possible, "How is Anita?"</p> + +<p>For a moment Guy did not answer and Cyril stood fumbling with the +matches fearful of the effect of the question. He was still doubtful how +far his friend had receded from his former position and was much +relieved when Guy finally answered in a very subdued voice:</p> + +<p>"She is pretty well—but—" He hesitated.</p> + +<p>Cyril turned quickly round. He noticed that Guy's face had lengthened +perceptibly and that he toyed nervously with his eye-glass.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter?" he inquired anxiously.</p> + +<p>"The fact is," replied Campbell, speaking slowly and carefully avoiding +the other's eye, "I think it is possible that she misses you."</p> + +<p>Cyril's heart gave a sudden jump.</p> + +<p>"I can hardly believe it," he managed to stutter.</p> + +<p>"Of course, Miss Trevor may be mistaken. It was her idea, not mine, that +Ani—Lady Wilmersley I mean—is worrying over your absence. But whatever +the cause, the fact remains that she has changed very much. She is no +longer frank and cordial in her manner either to Miss Trevor or myself. +It seems almost as if she regarded us both with suspicion, though what +she can possibly suspect us of, I can't for the life of me imagine. That +day at lunch she was gay as a child, but now she is never anything but +sad and preoccupied."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps she is beginning to remember the past," suggested Cyril.</p> + +<p>"How can I tell? Miss Trevor and I have tried everything we could think +of to induce her to confide in us, but she won't. Possibly you might be +more successful—" An involuntary sigh escaped Campbell. "I am sorry now +that I prevented you from seeing her. Mind you, I still think it wiser +not to do so, but I ought to have left you free to use your own +judgment. The number of her sitting-room is 62, on the second floor and, +for some reason or other, she insists on being left there alone every +afternoon from three to four. Now I have told you all I know of the +situation and you must handle it as you think best."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + +<h3>A SLIP OF THE TONGUE</h3> + + +<p>Cyril spent the night in a state of pitiable indecision. Should he or +should he not risk a visit to Anita? If the police were shadowing him, +it would be fatal, but he had somehow lately acquired the conviction +that they were not. On the other hand, if he could only see her, how it +would simplify everything! As she distrusted both Guy and Miss Trevor, +even if his plot succeeded, she would probably refuse to leave England +unless he himself told her that he wished her to do so. Besides, there +were so many details to be discussed, so many arrangements to be talked +over. "Yes," he said to himself as he lay staring into the darkness, "it +is my duty to see her. I shall go to her not because I want to...." A +horrid doubt made him pause. Was he so sure that his decision was not +the outcome of his own desire? How could he trust his judgment in a +matter where his inclinations were so deeply involved? Yet it would be +shocking if he allowed his own feelings to induce him to do something +which might be injurious to Anita. It was a nice question to determine +whether her need of him was sufficient to justify him in risking a +visit? For hours he debated with himself but could arrive at no +conclusion. No sooner did he resolve to stay away from her than the +thought of her unhappiness again made him waver. If he only knew why she +was so unhappy, he told himself that the situation would not be so +unendurable. When he had talked to her over the telephone, she had +seemed cheerful; she had spoken of Guy and Miss Trevor with enthusiasm. +What could have occurred since then to make her distrust them and to +plunge her into such a state of gloom? As he tossed to and fro on his +hot, tumbled bed, his imagination pictured one dire possibility after +another, till at last he made up his mind that he could bear the +uncertainty no longer. He must see her! He would see her!</p> + +<p>Having reached this decision, Cyril could hardly refrain from rushing +off to her as soon as it was light. However, he had to curb his +impatience. Three o'clock was the only hour he could be sure of finding +her alone; so he must wait till three o'clock. But how on earth, he +asked himself, was he going to get through the intervening time? He was +in a state of feverish restlessness that was almost agony; he could not +apply himself to anything; he could only wait—wait. Although he knew +that there was no chance of his meeting Anita, he haunted the +neighbourhood of the "George" all the morning. Every few minutes he +consulted his watch and the progress of the hands seemed to him so +incredibly slow that more than once he thought that it must have stopped +altogether. Finally, finally, the hour struck.</p> + +<p>Flinging back his shoulders and assuming a carelessness that almost +amounted to a swagger, Cyril entered the hotel. He was so self-conscious +that it was with considerable surprise as well as relief that he noticed +that no one paid the slightest attention to him. Even the porter hardly +glanced at him, being at the moment engaged in speeding a parting guest.</p> + +<p>Cyril decided to use the stairs in preference to the lift, as they were +less frequented than the latter, and as it happened, he made his way up +to the second landing without encountering anybody.</p> + +<p>There, however, he came face to face with a pretty housemaid, who to his +dismay looked at him attentively. Cyril went cold all over. Had he but +known it, she had been attracted by his tall, soldierly figure and had +merely offered him the tribute of an admiring glance. But this +explanation never occurred to our modest hero and he hurried, quite +absurdly flustered by this trifling incident. He found that No. 62 +opened on a small, ill-lighted hall, which was for the moment completely +deserted.</p> + +<p>Now that he actually stood on the threshold of Anita's room, Cyril felt +a curious reluctance to proceed farther. It was unwise.... She might not +want to see him.... But even as these objections flashed through his +mind, he knocked almost involuntarily.</p> + +<p>"Come in."</p> + +<p>Yet he still hesitated. His heart was beating like a sledge-hammer and +his hands were trembling. Never had he experienced such a curious +sensation before and he wondered vaguely what could be the matter with +him.</p> + +<p>"I can't stand here forever," he said in his heart. "I wanted to see +her; well then, why don't I open the door? I am behaving like a fool!"</p> + +<p>Still reasoning with himself, he finally entered the room.</p> + +<p>A bright fire was burning on the hearth and before it were heaped a +number of cushions and from this lowly seat Anita had apparently hastily +arisen. The length of time he had taken to answer her summons had +evidently alarmed her, for she stood like a creature at bay, her eyes +wide open and frightened. On recognising Cyril a deep blush suffused her +face and even coloured the whiteness of her throat.</p> + +<p>"So it was you!" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Her relief was obvious, yet her manner was distant, almost repellent. +Cyril had confidently anticipated such a different reception that her +unexpected coldness completed his discomfiture. He felt as if the +foundations of his world were giving away beneath his feet. He managed, +however, to murmur something, he knew not what. The pounding of his +heart prevented him from thinking coherently. When his emotion had +subsided sufficiently for him to realise what he was doing, he found +himself sitting stiffly on one side of the fire with Anita sitting +equally stiffly on the other. She was talking—no, rather she was +engaging him in polite conversation. How long she had been doing so he +did not know, but he gathered that it could not have been long, as she +was still on the subject of the weather.</p> + +<p>"It has been atrocious in London. I hope you had better luck in the +country. To-day has been especially disagreeable," she was saying.</p> + +<p>Cyril abused the weather with a vigour which was rather surprising, in +view of the fact that till she had mentioned it, he had been sublimely +unconscious whether the sun had been shining or not. But finally even +that prolific topic was exhausted and as no other apparently suggested +itself to either, they relapsed into a constrained silence.</p> + +<p>Cyril was suffering acutely. He had so longed to see her, and now an +impalpable barrier had somehow arisen between them which separated them +more completely than mere bricks and mortar, than any distance could +have done. True, he could feast his eyes on her cameo-like profile; on +the soft curve of her cheek; on the long, golden-tipped lashes; on the +slender, white throat, which rose like a column from the laces of her +dress. But he dared not look at her too long. Cyril was not +introspective and was only dimly aware of the cause of the turmoil which +was raging in his heart. He did not know that he averted his eyes for +fear that the primitive male within him would break loose from the +fetters of his will and forcibly seize the small creature so temptingly +within his reach.</p> + +<p>"If I only knew what I have done to displease her!" he said to himself.</p> + +<p>He longed to question her, but she held herself so rigidly aloof that he +had not the courage to do so. It was in vain that he told himself that +her coldness simplified the situation; that it would have been terrible +to have had to repel her advances; but he could find no consolation in +the thought. In speechless misery he sat gazing into the fire.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he thrilled with the consciousness that she was looking at him. +He turned towards her and their eyes met.</p> + +<p>The glance they exchanged was of the briefest duration, but it sufficed +to lift the weight which had been crushing him. He leaned eagerly +forward.</p> + +<p>"Have I offended you?" he asked.</p> + +<p>The corners of her mouth quivered slightly, but she did not answer.</p> + +<p>"If I have," he continued, "I assure you it was quite unintentionally. +Why, I would give my life to save you a moment's pain. Can't you feel +that I am speaking the truth?"</p> + +<p>She turned her face towards him, and as he looked at her, Cyril realised +that it was not only her manner which had altered; she herself had +mysteriously altered. At first he could not define wherein the +difference lay, but suddenly it flashed upon him. It was the expression +of her eyes which had changed. Heretofore he had been confident that +they reflected her every emotion; but now they were inscrutable. It was +as if she had drawn a veil over her soul.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what you mean," she said. There was more than a hint of +hostility in her voice.</p> + +<p>The evasion angered him.</p> + +<p>"That is impossible! Why not be frank with me? If my visit is +distasteful to you, you have only to say so and I will go."</p> + +<p>As she did not immediately answer, he added:</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I had better go." His tone, however, somehow implied more of a +threat than a suggestion; for since they had exchanged that fleeting +glance Cyril had felt unreasonably reassured. Despite her coldness, the +memory of her tender entreaties for his speedy return, buoyed up his +conceit. She could not be as indifferent to him as she seemed, he argued +to himself. However, as the moments passed and she offered no objection +to his leaving her, his newly-aroused confidence evaporated.</p> + +<p>"She does not want me!" he muttered to himself. "I must go." But he made +no motion to do so; he could not.</p> + +<p>"I can't leave her till I know how I have offended her.... There are so +many arrangements to be made.... I must get in touch with her again,—" +were some of the excuses with which he tried to convince himself that he +had a right to linger.</p> + +<p>He tried to read her face, but she had averted her head till he could +see nothing but one small, pink ear, peeping from beneath her curls.</p> + +<p>Her silence exasperated him.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you speak to me? Why do you treat me like this?" he demanded +almost fiercely.</p> + +<p>"It is a little difficult to know how you wish to be treated!" Her +manner was icy, but his relief was so intense that he scarcely noticed +it.</p> + +<p>"She is piqued!" he cried exultingly in his heart. "She is piqued, that +is the whole trouble." He felt a man once more, master of the situation. +"She probably expected me to—" He shrank from pursuing the thought any +further as the hot blood surged to his face. He was again conscious of +his helplessness. What could he say to her?</p> + +<p>"Oh, if you could only understand!" he exclaimed aloud. "I suppose you +think me cold and unfeeling? I only wish I were!... Oh, this is +torture!"</p> + +<p>She seemed startled by his vehemence, for she looked up at him timidly.</p> + +<p>"Can't you trust me?" he continued. "Won't you tell me what has come +between us?"</p> + +<p>Two big tears gathered in her eyes.</p> + +<p>The sight was too much for Cyril. Right and wrong ceased to exist for +him. He forgot everything; stooping forward he gathered her into his +arms and crushed her small body against his heart.</p> + +<p>She thrust him from her with unexpected force and stood before him with +blazing eyes.</p> + +<p>"You cannot treat me like a child, who can be neglected one day and +fondled the next! I won't have it! At the nursing home I was too weak +and confused to realise how strangely you were behaving, but now I know. +You dare to complain of my coldness—my coldness indeed! Is my coldness +a match to yours? Why do you suddenly pretend to love me?"</p> + +<p>He interrupted her with a vigorous protest.</p> + +<p>"If you do, then your conduct is all the more inexplicable. If you do, +then I ask you, what is it, who is it, that stands between us?"</p> + +<p>"If I could tell you, don't you suppose I would?" declared Cyril.</p> + +<p>"Then there is some one, some person who is keeping us apart!"</p> + +<p>"No—oh, not exactly."</p> + +<p>"Ah, you see, you can't deny it! There is another woman in your life. I +know it! I felt it!"</p> + +<p>"No—no! I love you!" cried Cyril.</p> + +<p>He hardly knew what he was saying; the words seemed to have leaped to +his lips.</p> + +<p>She regarded him for a second in silence evidently only partially +convinced.</p> + +<p>Cyril felt horribly guilty. He had momentarily forgotten his wife, and +although he tried to convince himself that he had spoken the truth and +that it was not she who was keeping them apart, yet he had to +acknowledge that if he had been free, he would certainly have behaved +very differently towards Anita. So in a sense he had lied to her and as +he realised this, his eyes sank before hers. She did not fail to note +his embarrassment and pressed her point inexorably.</p> + +<p>"Swear that there is no other woman who has a claim on you and I will +believe you."</p> + +<p>He could not lie to her in cold blood. Yet to tell her the truth was +also out of the question, he said to himself.</p> + +<p>While he still hesitated, she continued more vehemently.</p> + +<p>"I don't ask you to tell me anything of your past or my past, if you had +rather not do so. One thing, however, I must and will know—who is this +woman and what are her pretensions?"</p> + +<p>"I—I cannot tell you," he said at last. "I only wish I could. Some day, +I promise you, you shall know everything, but now it is impossible. But +this much I will say—I love you as I have never loved any one in my +whole life."</p> + +<p>She trembled from head to foot and half closed her eyes.</p> + +<p>For a moment neither spoke. Cyril felt that this very silence +established a communion between them, more complete, more intense than +any words could have done. But as he gazed at the small, drooping +figure, he felt that his self-control was deserting him completely. He +almost reeled with the violence of his emotion.</p> + +<p>"I can't stand it another moment," he said to himself. "I must go +before—" He did not finish the sentence but clenched his hands till the +knuckles showed white through the skin.</p> + +<p>He rose to his feet.</p> + +<p>"I can't stay!" he exclaimed aloud. "Forgive me, Anita. I can't tell you +what I feel. Good-bye!" He murmured incoherently and seizing her hands, +he pressed them for an instant against his lips, then dropping them +abruptly, he fled from the room.</p> + +<p>Cyril in his excitement had not noticed that he had called Anita by her +name nor did he perceive the start she gave when she heard it. After the +door had clicked behind him, she sat as if turned to stone, white to her +very lips.</p> + +<p>Slowly, as if with an effort, her lips moved.</p> + +<p>"Anita?" she whispered to herself. "Anita?" she repeated over and over +again as if she were trying to learn a difficult lesson.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a great light broke over her face.</p> + +<p>"I am Anita Wilmersley!" she cried aloud.</p> + +<p>But the tension had been too great; with a little gasp she sank fainting +to the floor.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2> + +<h3>AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR</h3> + + +<p>What he did during the next few hours, Cyril never quite knew. He +retained a vague impression of wandering through endless streets and of +being now and then arrested in his heedless course by the angry +imprecations of some wayfarer he had inadvertently jostled or of some +Jehu whose progress he was blocking.</p> + +<p>How could he have behaved like such a fool, he kept asking himself. He +had not said a thing to Anita that he had meant to say—not one. Worse +still, he had told her that he loved her! He had even held her in his +arms! Cyril tried not to exult at the thought. He told himself again and +again that he had acted like a cad; nevertheless the memory of that +moment filled him with triumphant rapture. Had he lost all sense of +shame, he wondered. He tried to consider Anita's situation, his own +situation; but he could not. Anita herself absorbed him. He could think +neither of the past nor of the future; he could think of nothing +connectedly.</p> + +<p>The daylight waned and still he tramped steadily onward. Finally, +however, his body began to assert itself. His footsteps grew gradually +slower, till at last he realised that he was miles from home and that he +was completely exhausted. Hailing a passing conveyance, he drove to his +lodgings.</p> + +<p>He was still so engrossed in his dreams that he felt no surprise at +finding Peter sitting in the front hall, nor did he notice the dejected +droop of the latter's shoulders.</p> + +<p>On catching sight of his master, Peter sprang forward.</p> + +<p>"Hsh! My lord," he whispered with his finger on his lip; and turning +slightly, he cast an apprehensive glance over his shoulder towards the +top of the stairs.</p> + +<p>With an effort Cyril shook off his preoccupation. Following the +direction of his servant's eyes, he saw nothing more alarming than a few +dusty plants which were supposed to adorn the small landing where the +stairs turned. Before he had time to form a conjecture as to the cause +of Peter's agitation, the latter continued breathlessly: "Her Ladyship +'ave arrived, my lord!"</p> + +<p>Having made this announcement, he stepped back as if to watch what +effect this information would have on his master. There was no doubt +that Peter's alarm was very genuine, yet one felt that in spite of it he +was enjoying the dramatic possibilities of the situation.</p> + +<p>Cyril, however, only blinked at him uncomprehendingly.</p> + +<p>"Her Ladyship? What Ladyship?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Lady Wilmersley, my lord, and she brought her baggage. I haven't known +what to do, that I haven't. I knew she ought not to stay here, but I +couldn't turn 'er out, could I?"</p> + +<p>Cyril's mind was so full of Anita that he never doubted that it was she +to whom Peter was referring, so without waiting to ask further +questions, he rushed upstairs two steps at a time, and threw open the +door of his sitting-room.</p> + +<p>On a low chair in front of the fire his wife sat reading quietly.</p> + +<p>Cyril staggered back as if he had been struck. She, however, only turned +her head languidly and closing her book, surveyed him with a mocking +smile.</p> + +<p>For a moment Cyril saw red. His disappointment added fuel to his +indignation.</p> + +<p>"Amy! How dare you come here?" he cried, striding towards her.</p> + +<p>She seemed in nowise affected by his anger; only her expression became, +if possible, a trifle more contemptuous.</p> + +<p>"Your manners have sadly deteriorated since we parted," she remarked, +raising her eyebrows superciliously.</p> + +<p>"Manners!" he exclaimed and his voice actually shook with rage. "May I +ask how you expected to be received? Is it possible that you imagine +that I am going to take you back?"</p> + +<p>Her eyes narrowed, but she still appeared quite unconcerned.</p> + +<p>"Do you know, I rather think you will," she drawled.</p> + +<p>"Take you back, now that you have tired of your lover or he has become +disgusted with you, which is probably nearer the truth. Do you think I +am mad, or are you?"</p> + +<p>He fancied that he saw her wince, but she replied calmly:</p> + +<p>"Do not let us indulge in mutual recriminations. They are so futile."</p> + +<p>"Mutual recriminations, indeed! I like that! What have you to reproach +me with? Didn't I marry you to save you from disgrace and penury? +Haven't I done everything I could to keep you straight?"</p> + +<p>She rose slowly from her seat and he noticed for the first time that she +wore a low-cut gown of some diaphanous material, which revealed and yet +softened the too delicate lines of her sinuous figure. Her black hair +lay in thick waves around her face, completely covering the ears, and +wound in a coil at the back of her neck. He had never seen it arranged +in this fashion and reluctantly he had to admit that it was strangely +becoming to her. A wide band of dull gold, set with uncut gems, +encircled her head and added a barbaric note to her exotic beauty. It +was his last gift to her, he remembered.</p> + +<p>Yes, she was still beautiful, he acknowledged, although the life she had +led, had left its marks upon her. She looked older and frailer than when +he had seen her last. But to-night the sunken eyes glowed with +extraordinary brilliancy and a soft colour gave a certain roundness to +her hollow cheeks. As she stood before him, Cyril was conscious, for the +first time in years, of the alluring charm of her personality.</p> + +<p>She regarded him for a moment, her full red lips parted in an +inscrutable smile. How well he recalled that smile! He could never +fathom its meaning. In some mysterious way it suggested infinite +possibilities. How he hated it!</p> + +<p>"You tried everything, I grant you," she said at last, "except the one +thing which would have proved efficacious."</p> + +<p>"And what was that, pray?"</p> + +<p>"You never loved me."</p> + +<p>Her unexpected accusation made Cyril pause. Yes, it was true, he +acknowledged to himself. Had he not realised it during the last few days +as he had never done before?</p> + +<p>"You don't even take the trouble to deny it," she continued. "You +married me out of pity and instead of being ashamed of it, you actually +pride yourself on the purity of your motive."</p> + +<p>"Well, at any rate I can't see what there was to be ashamed of," he +replied indignantly.</p> + +<p>"Of course you can't! Oh, how you good people exasperate me! You seem to +lack all comprehension of the natural cravings of a normal human being. +Pity? What did I want with pity? I wanted love!"</p> + +<p>"It was not my fault that I could not love you."</p> + +<p>"No, but knowing that you did not love me, it was dastardly of you to +have married me without telling me the truth. In doing so, you took from +me my objective in life—you destroyed my ideals. Oh, don't look so +sceptical, you fool! Can't you see that I should never have remained a +governess until I was twenty-five, if I had not had ideals? It was +because I had such lofty conceptions of love that I kept myself +scrupulously aloof from men, so that I might come to my mate, when I +found him, with soul, mind, and body unsullied."</p> + +<p>She spoke with such passionate sincerity that it was with an effort +Cyril reminded himself that her past had not been as blameless as she +pictured it.</p> + +<p>"Your fine ideals did not prevent you from becoming a drunkard—" he +remarked drily.</p> + +<p>"When I married, I was not a drunkard," she vehemently protested. "The +existence I led was abhorrent to me, and it is true that occasionally +when I felt I could not stand it another moment, I would go to my room +after dinner and get what comfort I could out of alcohol; but what I +did, I did deliberately and not to satisfy an ungovernable appetite. I +was no more a drunkard than a woman who takes a dose of morphine during +bodily agony is a drug fiend. Of course, my conduct seems inexcusable to +you, for you are quite incapable of understanding the torture my life +was to me."</p> + +<p>"Other women have suffered far greater misfortunes and have borne them +with fortitude and dignity."</p> + +<p>"Look at me, Cyril; even now am I like other women?" She drew herself up +proudly. "Was it my fault that I was born with beauty that demanded its +due? Was I to blame that my blood leaped wildly through my veins, that +my imagination was always on fire? But I was, and still am, +instinctively and fundamentally a virtuous woman. Oh, you may sneer, but +it is true! Although as a girl I was starving for love, I never accepted +passion as a substitute, and you can't realise how incessantly the +latter was offered me. Wherever I went, I was persecuted by it. At times +I had a horrible fear that desire was all that I was capable of evoking; +and when you came to me in my misery, poverty, and disgrace, I hailed +you as my king—my man! I believed that you were offering me a love so +great that it welcomed the sacrifice of every minor consideration. It +never occurred to me that you would dare to ask me for myself, my life, +my future, unless you were able to give me in exchange something more +than the mere luxuries of existence."</p> + +<p>"I also offered you my life——"</p> + +<p>"You did not!" she interrupted him. "You offered up your life, not to +me, but to your own miserable conception of chivalry. The greatness of +your sacrifice intoxicated you and consequently it seemed to you +inevitable that I also would spend the rest of my days in humble +contemplation of your sublime character?"</p> + +<p>"Such an idea never occurred to me," Cyril angrily objected.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you never formulated it in so many words, I know that! You are too +self-conscious to be introspective and are actually proud of the fact +that you never stop to analyse either yourself or your motives. So you +go blundering through life without in the least realising what are the +influences which shape your actions. You fancy that you are not +self-centred because you are too shy, yes, and too vain to probe the +hidden recesses of your heart. You imagine that you are unselfish +because you make daily sacrifices to your own ideal of conduct. But of +that utter forgetfulness of self, of that complete merging and +submerging of your identity in another's, you have never had even the +vaguest conception. When you married me, it never occurred to you that I +had the right to demand both love and comprehension. You, the idealist, +expected me to be satisfied with the material advantages you offered; +but I, the degraded creature you take me to be, had I known the truth, +would never have consented to sell my birthright for a mess of pottage."</p> + +<p>"That sounds all very fine, and I confess I may not have been a perfect +husband, but after all, what would you have done, I should like to know, +if I had not married you?"</p> + +<p>"Done? I would have worked and hoped, and if work had failed me, I would +have begged and hoped. I would even have starved, before abandoning the +hope that some day I should find the man who was destined for me. When I +at last realised that you did not love me, you cannot imagine my +despair. I consumed myself in futile efforts to please you, but the very +intensity of my love prevented me from exercising those arts and +artifices which might have brought you to my feet. My emotion in your +presence was so great that it sealed my lips and made you find me a dull +companion."</p> + +<p>"I never thought you dull. You know very well that it was not that which +alienated me from you. When I married you, I may not have been what is +called in love with you, but I was certainly fond of you, and if you had +behaved yourself, I should no doubt in time have become more closely +united to you. You talk of 'consuming' yourself to please me. Nice, +effective word, that! I must add it to my vocabulary. But you chose a +strange means of gaining my affections when you took to disgracing +yourself both privately and publicly."</p> + +<p>The passionate resentment which had transfigured her slowly faded from +Amy's face, leaving it drawn and old; her voice, when she spoke, sounded +infinitely weary.</p> + +<p>"When I knew for a certainty that a lukewarm affection was all you would +ever feel for me, I lost hope, and in losing hope, I lost my foothold on +life. I wanted to die—I determined to die. Time and time again, I +pressed your pistol to my forehead, but something stronger than my will +always prevented me from pulling the trigger; and finally I sought +forgetfulness in drink, because I had not the courage to find it in +death. At first I tried to hide my condition from you, but there came a +moment when the sight of your bland self-satisfaction became unbearable, +when your absolute unconsciousness of the havoc you had made of my life +maddened me. I wanted you to suffer! Oh, not as I had suffered, you are +not capable of that; but at any rate I could hurt your vanity and deal a +death-blow to your pride! You had disgraced me when you tricked me into +giving myself to a man who did not love me; I determined to disgrace you +by reeling through the public streets. And I was glad, glad!" she cried +with indescribable bitterness. "When I saw you grow pale with anger, +when I saw you tremble with shame, I suppose you fancy that I must, at +times, have suffered from remorse and humiliation? I swear that never +for a moment have I regretted the course I chose. I am ashamed of +nothing except that I lacked the courage to kill myself. Drink? I bless +it! How I welcomed the gradual deadening of my senses, the dulling of my +fevered brain! When I awoke from my long torpor and found myself at +Charleroi, I cursed the doctor who had brought me back to life. Little +by little the old agony returned. The thought of you haunted me day and +night, while a raging thirst racked my body, and from this twofold +torture the constant supervision of the nurses prevented me from +obtaining even a temporary respite. It was hell!"</p> + +<p>For a moment Cyril felt a wave of pity sweep over him, but suddenly he +stiffened.</p> + +<p>"You forget to mention that—consolation was offered you."</p> + +<p>"Consolation! Had I found that, I should not be here! I admit, however, +that when I first noticed that M. de Brissac was attracted by me, I was +mildly pleased. It was a solace to my wounded vanity to find that some +one still found me desirable. But I swear that it never even occurred to +me to give myself to him, till the doctor told me that you were coming +to take me away with you. See you again? Subject myself anew to your +indifference—your contempt? Never! So I took the only means of escaping +from you which offered itself. And I am glad, glad that I flung myself +into the mire, for by defiling love, I killed it. I am at last free from +the obsession which has been the torment of my life. Neither you nor any +other man will again fire my imagination or stir my senses. I am dead, +but I am also free—free!"</p> + +<p>As she spoke the last words her expression was so exalted that Cyril was +forced to grant her his grudging admiration. As she stood before him, +she seemed more a spirit than a woman; she seemed the incarnation of +life, of love, of the very fundamentals of existence. She was really an +extraordinary woman; why did he not love her, he asked himself. But even +as this flashed through his mind the memory of his long martyrdom +obtruded itself. He saw her again not as she appeared then, but as the +central figure in a succession of loathsome scenes.</p> + +<p>"Your attempt to justify yourself may impose on others, but not on me. I +know you too well! You are rotten to the core. What you term love is +nothing but an abnormal craving, which no healthy-minded man with his +work in life to do could have possibly satisfied. Our code, however, is +too different for me to discuss the matter with you. And so, if you have +quite finished expatiating on my shortcomings, would you kindly tell me +to what I owe the honour of your visit?"</p> + +<p>She turned abruptly from him and leaned for a minute against the +mantelpiece; then, sinking into a chair, she took a cigarette from a box +which lay on the table near her and proceeded to light it with apparent +unconcern. Cyril, however, noticed that her hand trembled violently. +After inhaling a few puffs, she threw her head back and looked at him +tauntingly from between her narrowed lids.</p> + +<p>"Because, my dear Cyril, I read in yesterday's paper that your wife had +been your companion on your ill-timed journey from Paris. So I thought +it would be rather amusing to run over and find out a few particulars as +to the young person who is masquerading under my name."</p> + +<p>She had caught Cyril completely off his guard and he felt for a moment +incapable of parrying her attack.</p> + +<p>"I assure you," he stuttered, "it is all a mistake—" He hesitated; he +could think of no explanation which would satisfy her.</p> + +<p>"I expected you to tell me that she was as pure as snow!" she exclaimed +with a scornful laugh. "But how you with your puritanic ideas managed to +get yourself into such an imbroglio passes my understanding. Really, I +consider that you owe it to me, to satisfy my curiosity."</p> + +<p>"I regret that I am unable to do so."</p> + +<p>"So do I! Still, as I shall no doubt solve the riddle in a few days, I +can possess my soul in patience. Meanwhile I shall enjoy watching your +efforts to prevent me from learning the truth."</p> + +<p>"Unfortunately for you, that pleasure will be denied you. You are going +to leave this house at once and we shall not meet again till we do so +before judge and jury."</p> + +<p>Amy settled herself more comfortably in her chair.</p> + +<p>"So you will persist in trying to bluff it out? Foolish Cyril! Don't you +realise that I hold all the cards and that I am quite clever enough to +use them to the best advantage? You see, knowing you as I do, I am +convinced that the motive which led you to sacrifice both truth and +honour is probably as praiseworthy as it is absurd. But having made such +a sacrifice, why are you determined to render it useless? I cannot +believe that you are willing to face the loss not only of your own +reputation but of that of the young person who has accepted your +protection. How do you fancy she would enjoy figuring as corespondent in +a divorce suit?"</p> + +<p>Cyril felt as if he were caught in a trap.</p> + +<p>"My God," he cried, "you wouldn't do that! I swear to you that she is +absolutely innocent. She was in a terrible situation and to say that she +was my wife seemed the only way to save her. She doesn't even know I am +married!"</p> + +<p>"Really? And have you never considered that when she finds out the +truth, she may fail to appreciate the delicacy which no doubt prevented +you from mentioning the trifling fact of my existence? It is rather +funny that your attempts to rescue forlorn damsels seem doomed to be +unsuccessful! Or were your motives in this case not quite so impersonal +as I fancied? Has Launcelot at last found his Guinevere? If so, I may +yet be avenged vicariously."</p> + +<p>"Your presence is punishment enough, I assure you, for all the sins I +ever committed! But come to the point. What exactly is it that you are +threatening me with?"</p> + +<p>"Publicity, that is all. If neither you nor this woman object to its +being known that you travelled together as man and wife, then I am +powerless."</p> + +<p>"But you have just acknowledged that you know that our relation is a +harmless one," cried Cyril.</p> + +<p>"I do not know it—but—yes, I believe it. Do you think, however, that +any one else will do so?"</p> + +<p>"Surely you would not be such a fiend as to wreck the life of an +innocent young girl?"</p> + +<p>"If her life is wrecked, whose fault is it? Not mine, at all events. It +was you who by publicly proclaiming her to be your wife, made it +impossible for her disgrace to remain a secret. Don't you realise that +even if I took no steps in the matter, sooner or later the truth is +bound to be discovered? Now I—and I alone—can save you from the +consequences of your folly. If you will agree not to divorce me, I +promise not only to keep your secret, but to protect the good name of +this woman by every means in my power."</p> + +<p>"I should like to know what you expect to gain by trying to force me to +take you back? Is it the title that you covet, or do you long to shine +in society? But remember that in order to do that, you would have +radically to reform your habits."</p> + +<p>"I have no intention of reforming and I don't care a fig for +conventional society!"</p> + +<p>"You tell me that you no longer love me and that you found existence +with me unsupportable. Why then are you not willing to end it?"</p> + +<p>"It is true, I no longer love you, but while I live, no other woman +shall usurp my place."</p> + +<p>"Your place! When you broke your marriage vows, you forfeited your right +to a place in my life. But I will make a compact with you. You can have +all the money you can possibly want as long as you neither do nor say +anything to imperil the reputation of the young lady in question."</p> + +<p>"All the wealth in the world could not buy my silence!"</p> + +<p>"This is too horrible!" cried Cyril almost beside himself. "In order to +shield a poor innocent child, you demand that I sacrifice my freedom, my +future, even my honour? Have you no sense of justice, no pity?"</p> + +<p>"None. I have said my last word. It is now for you to decide whether I +am to go or stay. Well—which is it to be?"</p> + +<p>Cyril looked into her white, set face; what he read there destroyed his +last, lingering hope.</p> + +<p>"Stay," he muttered through his clenched teeth.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX</h2> + +<h3>"I KNOW IT, COUSIN CYRIL"</h3> + + +<p>Cyril leaned wearily back in his chair. He was in that state of +apathetic calm which sometimes succeeds a violent emotion. Of his wife +he had neither seen or heard anything since they parted the night +before.</p> + +<p>"My lord!"</p> + +<p>Cyril started, for he had not noticed Peter's entrance and the +suppressed excitement of the latter's manner alarmed him.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter now?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"She's 'ere, my lord," replied Peter, dropping his voice till it was +almost a whisper.</p> + +<p>Cyril sprang from his seat.</p> + +<p>"Who?" he cried. "Speak up, can't you?"</p> + +<p>"The—the young lady, my lord, as you took charge of on the train. I was +just passing through the 'all as she came in and so——"</p> + +<p>"Here?" exclaimed Cyril. "Why didn't you show her up at once?"</p> + +<p>"But, my lord," objected Peter. "If 'er Ladyship should 'ear——"</p> + +<p>"Mind your own business, you fool, or——"</p> + +<p>But Peter had already scuttled out of the room.</p> + +<p>Cyril waited, every nerve strung to the highest tension. Was he again to +be disappointed? Yet if his visitor was really Anita, some new +misfortune must have occurred! It seemed to him ages before the door +again opened and admitted a small, cloaked figure, whose features were +practically concealed by a heavy veil. A glance, however, sufficed to +assure him that it was indeed Anita who stood before him. While Cyril +was struggling to regain his composure, she lifted her veil. The +desperation of her eyes appalled him.</p> + +<p>"My God, what is the matter?" cried Cyril, striding forward and seizing +her hands.</p> + +<p>She gently disengaged herself.</p> + +<p>"Lord Wilmersley—" Cyril jumped as if he had been shot. "Yes," she +continued, "I know who you are. I also know who I am."</p> + +<p>"But who told you?" stuttered Cyril.</p> + +<p>"You did," she quietly replied.</p> + +<p>"I? What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>For the first time the ghost of a smile hovered round her lips.</p> + +<p>"You called me Anita! You didn't know that, did you?"</p> + +<p>"Did I really? What a blundering fool I have been from first to last!" +Cyril exclaimed remorsefully.</p> + +<p>"You need not reproach yourself. For some days I had been haunted by +fragmentary visions of the past and before I saw you yesterday, I was +practically certain that you were not my husband. Oh! It was not without +a struggle that I finally made up my mind that you had deceived me. I +told myself again and again that you were not the sort of a man who +would take advantage of an unprotected girl; yet the more I thought +about it, the more convinced I became that my suspicions were correct. +Then I tried to imagine what reason you could have for posing as my +husband, but I could think of none. I was in despair! I didn't know what +to do, whom to turn to; for if I could not trust you, whom could I +trust? When I heard my name, it was as if a dim light suddenly flooded +my brain. I knew who I was. I remembered leaving Geralton, but little by +little I realised with dismay that I was still completely in the dark as +to who you were, why you had come into my life. It seemed to me that if +I could not discover the truth, I should go mad. Then I decided to +appeal to Miss Trevor. She was a woman. She looked kind. She would tell +me! I was somehow convinced that she did not know who I was, but I said +to myself that she would certainly have heard of my disappearance, for I +could not believe that Arthur had allowed me to go out of his life +without moving heaven and earth to find me."</p> + +<p>"You did not know——?"</p> + +<p>Anita shook her head.</p> + +<p>"No; it was Miss Trevor who told me that Arthur was dead—that he had +been murdered." She shuddered convulsively. "You see," she added with +pathetic humility, "there are still so many things I do not remember. +Even now I can hardly believe that I, I of all people, killed my +husband." Great tears coursed slowly down her cheeks.</p> + +<p>Cyril ached for pity of her.</p> + +<p>"Why take it for granted that you did?" he suggested, partly from a +desire to comfort her, but also because there really lingered a doubt in +his mind.</p> + +<p>"Do you suspect any one else?" she cried.</p> + +<p>"Not at present, but——"</p> + +<p>She threw up her hands with a gesture of despair. "No, of course not. I +must have killed him. But I never meant to—you will believe that, won't +you? Those doctors were right, I must have been insane!"</p> + +<p>"I am sure you were not. Arthur only intended to frighten you by sending +for those men."</p> + +<p>"But if I was not crazy, why can I remember so little of what took place +on that dreadful night and for some time afterwards?"</p> + +<p>"I am told that a severe shock often has that effect," replied Cyril. +"But, oh, how I wish you could answer a few questions! I don't want to +raise your hopes; but there is one thing that has always puzzled me and +till that is explained I for one shall always doubt whether it was you +who killed Arthur."</p> + +<p>Again the eager light leaped into her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Oh, tell me quickly what—what makes you think that I may not have done +so?"</p> + +<p>Cyril contemplated her a moment in silence. He longed to pursue the +topic, but was fearful of the effect it might have on her.</p> + +<p>"Yet now that she knows the worst, it may be a relief to her to talk +about it," he said to himself. "Yes, I will risk it," he finally +decided.</p> + +<p>"Do you remember that you put a drug in Arthur's coffee?" he asked out +loud.</p> + +<p>"Yes, perfectly."</p> + +<p>"Then you must have expected to make your escape before he regained +consciousness."</p> + +<p>"Yes—yes!"</p> + +<p>"Then why did you arm yourself with a pistol?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't! I had no pistol."</p> + +<p>"But if you shot Arthur, you must have had a pistol."</p> + +<p>She stared at Cyril in evident bewilderment.</p> + +<p>"I could have sworn I had no pistol."</p> + +<p>Cyril tried to control his rising excitement. "You knew, however, that +Arthur owned one?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but I never knew where he kept it."</p> + +<p>"You are sure you have not forgotten——"</p> + +<p>"No, no!" she interrupted him. "My memory is perfectly clear up to the +time when Arthur seized me and threw me on the floor."</p> + +<p>"After that you remember nothing?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I have a vague recollection of a long walk through the +dark—of a train—of you—of policemen. But everything is so confused +that I can be sure of nothing."</p> + +<p>Cyril paced the room deep in thought.</p> + +<p>"It seems to me incredible," he said at last, "that if you did not even +know where to look for a pistol, you should have found it, to say +nothing of having been able to use it, while you were being beaten into +unconsciousness by that brute."</p> + +<p>But Anita only shook her head hopelessly.</p> + +<p>"It is extraordinary, and yet I must have done so. For it has been +proved, has it not, that Arthur and I were absolutely alone?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly not! How can we be sure that some one was not concealed in +the room or did not climb in through the window or—why, there are a +thousand possibilities which can never be proved!"</p> + +<p>"Ah!" she exclaimed, her whole body trembling with eagerness. "I now +remember that I had put all my jewels in a bag, and as that has +disappeared, a burglar—" But as she scanned Cyril's face, she paused.</p> + +<p>"You had the bag with you at the nursing home. The jewels are safe," he +said very gently.</p> + +<p>"Then," she cried, "it is useless trying to deceive ourselves any +longer—I killed Arthur and must face the consequences."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"I have decided to give myself up."</p> + +<p>"You shall not! I will not allow it!" he cried.</p> + +<p>"But don't you see that I can't spend the rest of my life in hiding? +Think what it would mean to live in daily, hourly dread of exposure? +Why, death would be preferable to that."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you would be acquitted. There is no doubt of that. That is not what +I am afraid of. But the idea of you, Anita, in prison. Why, it is out of +the question. A week of it would kill you."</p> + +<p>"And if it did, what of it? What has life to offer me now?"</p> + +<p>"Give me time. I will find some way of saving you. I will do +anything—everything."</p> + +<p>"There is nothing you can do," she said, laying her hand gently on his +arm. "You have already risked too much. Oh, I can never thank you enough +for all your goodness to me!"</p> + +<p>"Don't—don't—I would gladly give my life for you!"</p> + +<p>"I know it, Cousin Cyril," she murmured, with downcast eyes. A wave of +colour swept for a moment over her face.</p> + +<p>Cyril shivered. With a mighty effort he strove to regain his composure. +Cousin Cyril! Yes, that was what he was to her—that was all he could +ever be to her.</p> + +<p>"I know how noble, how unselfish you are," she continued, lifting her +brimming eyes to his. "But your life is not your own. We must both +remember that."</p> + +<p>"Both? Anita, is it possible that you——"</p> + +<p>"Hush! I have said too much. Let me go," she cried, for Cyril had seized +her hand and was covering it with kisses.</p> + +<p>At this moment the door-handle rattled. Cyril and Anita moved hurriedly +away from each other.</p> + +<p>"Inspector Griggs is 'ere, my lord."</p> + +<p>Peter's face had resumed its usual stolid expression. He appeared not to +notice that his master and the latter's guest were standing in strained +attitudes at opposite ends of the room.</p> + +<p>"I can't see him." Cyril motioned Peter impatiently away.</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you see the inspector?" exclaimed Anita. "This is the best +time for me to give myself up."</p> + +<p>"No, no! I have a plan——"</p> + +<p>He was interrupted by the reappearance of Peter.</p> + +<p>"The inspector is very sorry, my lord, but he has to see you at once, 'e +says."</p> + +<p>"I can't," began Cyril.</p> + +<p>"It is no use putting it off," Anita said firmly. "I insist on your +seeing him. If you don't, I shall go down and speak to him myself."</p> + +<p>Cyril did not know what to do. He could not argue with her before Peter. +So turning to the latter, he said:</p> + +<p>"You can bring him up in ten minutes—not before. You understand?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my lord."</p> + +<p>"Anita," implored Cyril, as soon as they were again alone, "I beg you +not to do this thing. If a plan that I have in mind succeeds, you will +be able to leave the country and begin life again under another name."</p> + +<p>She hesitated a moment.</p> + +<p>"What is this plan?"</p> + +<p>He outlined it briefly.</p> + +<p>She listened attentively, but when he had finished she shook her head.</p> + +<p>"I will not allow you to attempt it. If your fraud were discovered—and +it would surely be discovered—your life would be ruined."</p> + +<p>"No—" he began.</p> + +<p>"I tell you I will not hear of it. No, I am determined to end this +horrible suspense. Call the inspector."</p> + +<p>"I entreat you at all events to wait a little while longer."</p> + +<p>"No, no!"</p> + +<p>Cyril was almost frantic. The minutes were slipping past. Was there +nothing he could say to turn her from her purpose?</p> + +<p>"My wife is here. If she should hear, if she should know—" he began +tentatively.</p> + +<p>He was amazed at the effect of his words.</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you tell me that she was here?" exclaimed Anita with +flashing eyes. "Of course, I haven't the slightest intention of +involving her in my affairs. I will go at once."</p> + +<p>"But you can't leave the house without Griggs seeing you, and he would +certainly guess who you are. Stay in the next room till he is gone, that +is all I ask of you. Here, quick, I hear footsteps on the stairs."</p> + +<p>Cyril had hardly time to fling himself into a chair before the inspector +was announced.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI</h2> + +<h3>THE TRUTH</h3> + + +<p>"Good-morning, my lord. Rather early to disturb you, I am afraid."</p> + +<p>Cyril noticed that Griggs's manner had undergone a subtle change. +Although perfectly respectful, he seemed to hold himself rigidly aloof. +There was even a certain solemnity about his trivial greeting. Cyril +felt that another blow was impending. Instantly and instinctively he +braced himself to meet it.</p> + +<p>"Not at all. What can I do for you?" he replied in his usual quiet +voice.</p> + +<p>The man hesitated a moment.</p> + +<p>"The fact is, my lord, I should like to ask you a few questions, but I +warn you that your answers may be used against you."</p> + +<p>"I have nothing to fear. What is it you want to know?"</p> + +<p>"Have you missed a bag, my lord?"</p> + +<p>"That confounded bag! It has turned up at last," thought Cyril. What on +earth should he say? How much did the fellow guess?</p> + +<p>"You had better ask my man. He knows more about my things than I do," he +managed to answer, as he lifted a perfectly expressionless face to +Griggs's inspection.</p> + +<p>"Quite so, my lord. But I fancy that as far as this particular bag is +concerned, that is not the case."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"Because I do not see what reason he could have had for hiding one of +his master's bags up the chimney."</p> + +<p>"So the bag was found up the chimney? Will you tell me what motive I am +supposed to have had for wishing to conceal it? Is there anything +remarkable about it? Did it contain anything you thought I might want to +get rid of?"</p> + +<p>The inspector eyed him narrowly.</p> + +<p>"It's no use, my lord. We know that Priscilla Prentice bought this bag a +fortnight ago in Newhaven. Now, if you are able to explain how it came +into your possession, I would strongly advise your doing so."</p> + +<p>Still Cyril did not flinch.</p> + +<p>"I have never to my knowledge laid eyes on the girl, and I cannot, +therefore, believe that a bag of hers has been found here."</p> + +<p>"We can prove it," replied the inspector. "The maker's name is inside +and the man who sold it to her is willing to swear that it is the +identical bag. One of our men has made friends with your chamber-maid +and she confessed that she had discovered it stuffed up the chimney in +your bedroom. She is a stupid girl and thought you had thrown it away, +so she took it. Only afterwards, it occurred to her that you had a +purpose in placing the bag where she had found it and she was going to +return it when my man prevented her from doing so."</p> + +<p>"Very remarkable! It all fits together like clock-work. I congratulate +you, Inspector," said Cyril, trying to speak superciliously. "But you +omitted to mention the most important link in the chain of evidence you +have so cleverly forged against me," he continued. "How am I supposed to +have got hold of this bag? I did not stop in Newhaven and you have had +me so closely watched that you must know that since my arrival in +England I have met no one who could have given it to me."</p> + +<p>"No, my lord, we are by no means sure of this. Quite the contrary. It is +true that we have, so to speak, kept an eye on you, but, till yesterday, +we had no reason to suspect that you had any connection with the murder, +so we did not think it necessary to have you closely followed. There +have been hours when we have had no idea where you were."</p> + +<p>"You surprise me!"</p> + +<p>"It is quite possible," continued the inspector without heeding Cyril's +interruption, "that you have met either Prentice or Lady Wilmersley, the +dowager, I mean."</p> + +<p>"Really! And why should they have given this bag to me, of all people? +Surely you must see that they could have found many easier, as well as +safer, ways of disposing of it."</p> + +<p>"Quite so, my lord, and that is why I am inclined to believe that it was +not through either of them that the bag came into your possession. I +think it more probable that her Ladyship brought it with her."</p> + +<p>"Her Ladyship? What do you mean?" Cyril's voice grew suddenly harsh.</p> + +<p>"You told me yourself that her Ladyship met you in Newhaven; that, in +fact, she had spent the night of the murder there."</p> + +<p>Cyril clutched the table convulsively.</p> + +<p>Amy! They suspected Amy. This was too horrible! Why had it never +occurred to him that his lies might involve an innocent person?</p> + +<p>"But this is absurd, you know," he stammered, in a futile effort to gain +time.</p> + +<p>"Let us hope so, my lord."</p> + +<p>"There has been a terrible mistake, I tell you."</p> + +<p>"In that case her Ladyship can no doubt easily explain it."</p> + +<p>"Her Ladyship is ill. She cannot be disturbed."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid that cannot be avoided. I must see her at once. But if you +wish it, I will not question her till she has been examined by our +doctors."</p> + +<p>Cyril rose and moved automatically towards the door.</p> + +<p>The inspector stepped forward.</p> + +<p>"Sorry, my lord, but for the present you can see her Ladyship only +before witnesses. May I ring the bell?"</p> + +<p>"What is the use of asking my permission? You are master here, so it +seems," exclaimed Cyril. His nerves were at last getting beyond his +control.</p> + +<p>"I am only doing my duty and I assure you that I want to cause as little +unpleasantness as possible."</p> + +<p>A servant appeared.</p> + +<p>The inspector remained discreetly in the background.</p> + +<p>"Ask her Ladyship please to come here as soon as she can get ready. If +she is asleep, it will be necessary to wake her."</p> + +<p>"Very good, my lord."</p> + +<p>The two men sat facing each other in silence.</p> + +<p>Cyril was hardly conscious of the other's presence. He must think; he +knew he must think; but his brain seemed paralysed. There must be a way +of clearing his wife without casting suspicion on Anita. Yet he could +think of none. Was it possible that he was now called upon to choose +between the woman he hated and the woman he loved, between honour and +dishonour? No, there must be a middle course. Time would surely solve +the difficulty.</p> + +<p>The door opened and Amy came slowly into the room. She looked +desperately ill.</p> + +<p>She was wrapped in a red velvet dressing-gown and its warm colour +contrasted painfully with the greyness of her face and lips. On catching +sight of the inspector, she started, but controlling herself with an +obvious effort, she turned to her husband.</p> + +<p>"You wish to speak to me?"</p> + +<p>"You can see for yourself, Inspector, that her Ladyship is in no +condition to be questioned," remonstrated Cyril, moving quickly to his +wife's side.</p> + +<p>"Just as you say, my lord, but in that case her Ladyship had better +finish her dressing. It will be necessary for her to accompany me to +headquarters."</p> + +<p>"I will not allow it," cried Cyril, almost beside himself and throwing a +protecting arm around Amy's shoulders.</p> + +<p>Her bloodshot eyes rested a moment on her husband, then gently +disengaging herself, she drew herself to her full height and faced the +inspector.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter? You need not try to spare me."</p> + +<p>"His Lordship——"</p> + +<p>"Do not listen to his Lordship. It is I who demand to be told the +truth."</p> + +<p>"Amy, I beg you—" interposed Cyril.</p> + +<p>"No, no," she cried, shaking off her husband's hand. "Let me know the +worst. Don't you see that you are torturing me?"</p> + +<p>"There has been a mistake. It is all my fault," began Cyril.</p> + +<p>She silenced him with an imperious gesture.</p> + +<p>"I am waiting to hear what the inspector has to say."</p> + +<p>Griggs cast a questioning look at Cyril, which the latter answered by a +helpless shrug.</p> + +<p>"A bag has been found in his Lordship's chimney, which was lately +purchased in Newhaven. Do you know how it got there? But perhaps before +answering, you may wish to consult your legal adviser."</p> + +<p>She cast a quick glance at her husband.</p> + +<p>"I will neither acknowledge nor deny anything until I have seen this bag +and know of what I am accused," she answered after a barely perceptible +pause.</p> + +<p>Griggs opened the door and called:</p> + +<p>"Jones, the bag, please."</p> + +<p>The inspector handed it to Amy.</p> + +<p>She looked at it for a moment. Cyril watched her breathlessly. What +would she say? Had the moment come when he must proclaim the truth?</p> + +<p>"Am I supposed to have bought this bag?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"No, my lady. It was sold to Prentice, who was sempstress at Geralton +and we believe it is the one in which Lady Wilmersley carried off her +jewels."</p> + +<p>Amy gave a muffled exclamation, but almost instantly she regained her +composure.</p> + +<p>"If that is so, how do you connect me with it? Because it happens to +have been found here, do you accuse me of having robbed my cousin?"</p> + +<p>"No, my lady, but as you spent the night of the murder in Newhaven——"</p> + +<p>To Cyril's surprise she shuddered from head to foot.</p> + +<p>"No, no!" she cried, stretching out her hands as if to ward off a blow.</p> + +<p>"It is useless to deny it. His Lordship himself told me that you had +joined him there."</p> + +<p>"I lied! It was not her Ladyship who was with me. Her Ladyship was in +Paris at the time. I swear it on my honour. The bag is—is mine. You can +arrest me. I am guilty." Thank God, thought Cyril, he had at last found +a way of saving both his love and his honour.</p> + +<p>"Guilty of what, my lord? Of a murder which was committed while you were +still in France—" asked Griggs, lifting his eyebrows incredulously.</p> + +<p>"Yes! I mean I instigated it—I hated my cousin—I needed the money, so +I hired an accomplice. He bungled things. I give myself up. I confess. +What more do you want?" cried Cyril.</p> + +<p>"Not so fast, my lord. Of course, if you insist upon it, I shall have to +arrest you, but I don't believe you had anything more to do with the +murder than I had, and I would stake my reputation on your being as +straight a gentleman as I ever met professionally. Wait a bit, my lord, +don't be 'asty." In his excitement Griggs dropped one of his carefully +guarded aitches.</p> + +<p>The door opened.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Campbell, my lord."</p> + +<p>"Guy," exclaimed Cyril. "You have arrived in the nick of time. I have +confessed."</p> + +<p>"Confessed what?" Campbell cast a bewildered look at the inspector.</p> + +<p>"His Lordship says that he hired an assassin to murder Lord Wilmersley."</p> + +<p>"What rot! You don't believe him, I hope?"</p> + +<p>"He <i>shall</i> believe me," cried Cyril. "I alone am responsible for +Wilmersley's death. The person who actually fired the shot was nothing +but my tool. I will never betray him, never!"</p> + +<p>"Honour among murderers, I see! Really, Cyril, you are too ridiculous," +exclaimed Campbell.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he caught sight of Amy, cowering in the shadow of the curtain.</p> + +<p>"Who is this lady?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"My wife! Look after her. Look after everything." Cyril gave Guy a look +in which he tried to convey all that he did not dare to say.</p> + +<p>The door again opened.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Judson is 'ere, my lord. I told him you were engaged, but he says +he would like to speak to you most particular."</p> + +<p>"I don't want to see him," began Cyril.</p> + +<p>"Don't be a greater fool than you can help," exclaimed Campbell. "How do +you know that he has not some important news?"</p> + +<p>"But—" objected Cyril.</p> + +<p>"Good morning, your Lordship. How do you do, Inspector. Mr. Campbell, I +believe. Your servant, your Ladyship. I took the liberty of forcing +myself upon you at this moment, my lord, because I have just learnt +certain facts which——"</p> + +<p>"It is too late to report," interposed Cyril hastily. "I have +confessed."</p> + +<p>The detective smiled indulgently.</p> + +<p>"Why, my lord, what is the use of pretending that you had anything to do +with the murder? I hurried here to tell you that there is no further +need of your sacrificing yourself. I have found out who——"</p> + +<p>"Shut up, I say. I did it. It's none of your business anyhow!" cried +Cyril incoherently.</p> + +<p>"Don't listen to his Lordship," said Amy. "We all know, of course, that +he is perfectly innocent. He is trying to shield some one. But who?" She +cast a keen look at Cyril.</p> + +<p>"That's just it," Judson agreed. "And it is partly my fault. I convinced +his Lordship that Lord Wilmersley was murdered by his wife. I have come +here to tell him that I was mistaken. It is lucky that I discovered the +truth in time."</p> + +<p>"Thank God!" cried Cyril. "I always knew she was innocent." His relief +was so intense that it robbed him of all power of concealment.</p> + +<p>Amy's mouth hardened into a straight, inflexible line; her eyes +narrowed.</p> + +<p>"I suppose that you have some fact to support your extraordinary +assertion?" demanded Griggs, unable to hide his vexation at finding that +his rival had evidently outwitted him.</p> + +<p>"Certainly, but I will say no more till I have his Lordship's +permission. He is my employer, you know."</p> + +<p>"What difference does that make?" asked Cyril. "I am more anxious than +any one to discover the truth."</p> + +<p>"Permit me to suggest, my lord, that it would be better if I could first +speak to you in private."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense," exclaimed Cyril impatiently. "I am tired of this eternal +secrecy. Tell us what you have found out."</p> + +<p>The detective's brows contracted slightly.</p> + +<p>"Very well, only remember, I warned you."</p> + +<p>"That's all right."</p> + +<p>"Have you forgotten, my lord, that I told you I always had an idea that +those two Frenchmen who were staying at the Red Lion Inn, were somehow +implicated in the affair?"</p> + +<p>"But what possible motive could they have had for murdering my cousin?" +demanded Cyril.</p> + +<p>The detective's eyes appeared to wander aimlessly from one of his +auditors to another.</p> + +<p>"We are waiting. What about those Frenchmen?"</p> + +<p>It was Amy who spoke. She moved slowly forward, and leaning her arm on +the mantelpiece confronted the four men.</p> + +<p>"You wish me to continue?" asked Judson.</p> + +<p>"Certainly. Why not?"</p> + +<p>The detective inclined his head and again turned towards Cyril.</p> + +<p>"Having once discovered their identity, my lord, their motive was quite +apparent."</p> + +<p>"Well, who are they? Out with it."</p> + +<p>"The elder," began Judson, speaking very slowly, "is Monsieur de +Brissac. The younger—" he paused.</p> + +<p>For a moment Cyril was too stunned to speak. He could do nothing but +stare stupidly at the detective. Amy guilty! Amy! It was incredible!</p> + +<p>"Stop! Your suspicions are absurd! Do not listen to him, Inspector!" He +hardly knew what he was saying. He only realised confusedly that +something within him was crying to him to save her.</p> + +<p>A wonderful light suddenly transfigured Amy's drawn face.</p> + +<p>"Cyril, would you really do this for——"</p> + +<p>"Hush!" He tried to silence her.</p> + +<p>She turned proudly to the inspector.</p> + +<p>"I don't care now who knows the truth. I killed Lord Wilmersley."</p> + +<p>"Don't listen to her! Don't you see that she is not accountable for what +she is saying?" cried Cyril. He had forgotten everything but that she +was a woman—his wife.</p> + +<p>"I killed Lord Wilmersley," Amy repeated, as if he had not spoken, "but +I did not murder him."</p> + +<p>"Does your Ladyship expect us to believe that you happened to call at +the castle at half-past ten in the evening, and that during an amicable +conversation you accidentally shot Lord Wilmersley?" demanded Griggs.</p> + +<p>"No," replied Amy contemptuously, "of course not! I—" She hesitated.</p> + +<p>"If your Ladyship had not ulterior purpose in going to Newhaven, why did +you disguise yourself as a boy and live there under an assumed name? And +who is this Frenchman who posed as your brother?"</p> + +<p>Amy threw her head back defiantly. A faint colour swept over her face.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur de Brissac was my lover. When we discovered that his Lordship +was employing detectives, we went to Newhaven, because we thought that +it was the last place where they would be likely to look for us. I +disguised myself to throw them off the scent."</p> + +<p>"But the description the inspector gave me of the boy did not resemble +you in the least," insisted Cyril.</p> + +<p>"It was I nevertheless. I merely cut off my hair and dyed it. See!" She +snatched the black wig from her head, disclosing a short crop of reddish +curls.</p> + +<p>"You have yet to explain," resumed the inspector sternly, "what took you +to Geralton in the middle of the night. Under the circumstances I should +have thought your Ladyship would hardly have cared to visit his +Lordship's relations."</p> + +<p>Ignoring Griggs, Amy turned to her husband.</p> + +<p>"My going there was the purest accident," she began in a dull, +monotonous voice, almost as if she were reciting a lesson, but as she +proceeded, her excitement increased till finally she became so absorbed +in her story that she appeared to forget her hearers completely. "I was +horribly restless, so we spent most of our time motoring and often +stayed out very late. One night a tire burst. I noticed that we had +stopped within a short walk of the castle. As I had never seen it except +at a distance, it occurred to me that I would like to have a nearer view +of the place. In my boy's clothes I found it fairly easy to climb the +low wall which separates the gardens from the park. Not a light was to +be seen, so, as there seemed no danger of my being discovered, I +ventured on to the terrace. As I stood there, I heard a faint cry. My +first impulse was to retrace my footsteps as quickly as possible, but +when I realised that it was a woman who was crying for help, I felt that +I must find out what was the matter. Running in the direction from which +the sound came, I turned a corner and found myself confronted by a +lighted window. The shrieks were now positively blood-curdling and there +was no doubt in my mind that some poor creature was being done to death +only a few feet away from me. The window was high above my head, but I +was determined to reach it. After several unsuccessful attempts I +managed to gain a foothold on the uneven surface of the wall and hoist +myself on to the window-sill. Luckily the window was partially open, so +I was able to slip noiselessly into the room and hide behind the +curtain. Peering through the folds, I saw a woman lying on the floor. +Her bodice was torn open, exposing her bare back. Over her stood a man +who was beating her with a piece of cord which was attached to the waist +of a sort of Eastern dressing-gown he wore.</p> + +<p>"'So you thought you would leave me, did you?' he cried over and over +again as the lash fell faster and faster. 'Well, you won't! Not till I +send you to hell, which I will some day.'</p> + +<p>"At last he paused and wiped the perspiration from his brow. He was very +fat and his exertions were evidently telling on him.</p> + +<p>"'Why shouldn't I kill you now? I have my pistol within reach of my +hand. It is here on my desk. Ah, you didn't know that, did you?' He gave +a fiendish laugh.</p> + +<p>"The woman shuddered but made no attempt to rise.</p> + +<p>"I was slowly recovering from the terror which had at first paralysed +me. I realised I must act at once if I meant to save Lady Wilmersley's +life. The desk was behind him.</p> + +<p>"Dropping on my hands and knees, I crept cautiously toward it. 'Kill +you, kill you, that is what I ought to do,' he kept repeating.</p> + +<p>"I reached the desk. No pistol was to be seen; yet I knew it was there. +As I fumbled among his papers, my hand touched an ancient steel +gauntlet. Some instinct told me that I had found what I sought. But how +to open it was the question. Some agonising moments passed before I at +last accidentally pressed the spring and a pistol lay in my hand.</p> + +<p>"He again raised the cord.</p> + +<p>"'Stop!' I cried.</p> + +<p>"He swung around and as he caught sight of the pistol levelled at his +head, the purple slowly faded from his face.</p> + +<p>"Then seemingly reassured at finding that it was only a boy who +confronted him, he took a step forward.</p> + +<p>"'Who the devil are you? Get out of here!' he cried.</p> + +<p>"'Stay where you are or I fire.'</p> + +<p>"'What nonsense is this?' he blustered, but I noticed that his knees +shook and he made no further effort to move.</p> + +<p>"'Climb out of the window. There is a car waiting in the road,' I called +to the girl.</p> + +<p>"'She shall not go!' he shrieked. The veins stood out on his temples.</p> + +<p>"I held him with my eye and saw his coward soul quiver with fear as I +moved deliberately nearer him.</p> + +<p>"'Do as I tell you. Run for your life,' I repeated.</p> + +<p>"'But you?' gasped Lady Wilmersley.</p> + +<p>"'I have the pistol. I am not afraid. I will follow you,' I assured her.</p> + +<p>"I knew rather than saw that she picked up a jacket and bag which lay +near the window. With a soft thud she dropped into the night. That is +the last I saw of her. What became of her I do not know." Amy paused a +moment.</p> + +<p>"As Lord Wilmersley saw his wife disappear, he gave a cry like a wounded +animal and rushed after her. I fired. He staggered back a few steps, +then turning he ran into the adjoining room. I heard a splash but did +not stop to find out what happened. Almost beside myself with terror, I +fled from the castle. If you have any more questions to ask, you had +better hurry."</p> + +<p>She stopped abruptly, trembling from head to foot, and glanced wildly +about her till her eyes rested on her husband. For a long, long moment +she regarded him in silence. She seemed to be gathering herself together +for a supreme effort.</p> + +<p>All four men watched her in breathless suspense.</p> + +<p>With her eyes still fastened on Cyril she fumbled in the bosom of her +dress, then her hand shot out, and before any one could prevent her, she +jabbed a hypodermic needle deep into her arm.</p> + +<p>"What have you done?" cried Cyril, springing forward and wrenching the +needle from her.</p> + +<p>A beatific smile spread slowly over her face.</p> + +<p>"You are—free," she gasped.</p> + +<p>She swayed a little and would have fallen if Cyril had not caught her.</p> + +<p>"Quick—a doctor," he cried.</p> + +<p>"It is too late," she murmured. "Too late! Forgive me, Cyril. +I—loved—you—so——"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII</h2> + +<h3>CAMPBELL RESIGNS</h3> + + +<p>Under a yew tree, overlooking a wide lawn, bordered on the farther side +by a bank of flowers, three people are sitting clustered around a +tea-table.</p> + +<p>One of them is a little old lady, the dearest old lady imaginable. By +her side, in a low basket chair, a girl is half sitting, half reclining. +Her small figure, clad in a simple black frock, gives the impression of +extreme youth, which impression is heightened by the fact that her +curly, yellow hair, reaching barely to the nape of her neck, is caught +together by a black ribbon like a schoolgirl's. But when one looks more +closely into her pale face, one realises somehow that she is a woman and +a woman who has suffered—who still suffers.</p> + +<p>On the ground facing the younger woman a red-headed young man in white +flannels is squatting tailor-fashion. He is holding out an empty cup to +be refilled.</p> + +<p>"Not another!" exclaims the little old lady in a horrified tone. "Why, +you have had three already!"</p> + +<p>"My dear Trevie, let me inform you once and for all that I have +abandoned my figure. Why should I persist in the struggle now that Anita +refuses to smile on me? When one's heart is broken, one had better make +the most of the few pleasures one can still enjoy. So another cup, +please."</p> + +<p>Anita took no notice of his sally; her eyes were fixed on the distant +horizon; she seemed absorbed in her own thoughts.</p> + +<p>"By the way," remarked Campbell casually as he sipped his tea, "I spent +last Sunday at Geralton." He watched Anita furtively. A faint flutter of +the eyelids was the only indication she gave of having heard him, yet +Guy was convinced that she was waiting breathlessly for him to continue.</p> + +<p>"How is Lord Wilmersley?" asked Miss Trevor with kindly indifference.</p> + +<p>"Very well indeed. He is doing a lot to the castle. You would hardly +know it—the interior, I mean." Although he had pointedly addressed +Anita, she made no comment. It was only after a long silence that she +finally spoke.</p> + +<p>"And how is Valdriguez?" she inquired.</p> + +<p>"Much the same. She plays all day long with the dolls Cyril bought for +her. She seems quite happy."</p> + +<p>Again they relapsed into silence.</p> + +<p>Miss Trevor took up her knitting, which had been lying in her lap, and +was soon busy avoiding the pitfalls a heel presents to the unwary.</p> + +<p>"I think I will go for a walk," said Anita, rising slowly from her seat. +There was a hint of exasperation in her voice which escaped neither of +her hearers.</p> + +<p>Miss Trevor peered anxiously over her spectacles at the retreating +figure.</p> + +<p>Campbell's rubicund countenance had grown strangely grave.</p> + +<p>"No better?" he asked as soon as Anita was out of earshot.</p> + +<p>Miss Trevor shook her head disconsolately.</p> + +<p>"Worse, I think. I can't imagine what can be the matter with her. She +seemed at one time to have recovered from her terrible experience. But +now, as you can see for yourself, she is absolutely wretched. She takes +no interest in anything. She hardly eats enough to keep a bird alive. If +she goes on like this much longer, she will fret herself into her grave. +Yet whenever I question her, she assures me that she is all right. I +really don't know what I ought to do."</p> + +<p>"Has it never occurred to you that she may be wondering why Wilmersley +has never written to her, nor been to see her?"</p> + +<p>"Lord Wilmersley? Why—no. She hardly ever mentions him."</p> + +<p>"She never mentions him," corrected Guy. "She inquires after everybody +at Geralton except Cyril. Doesn't that strike you as very suspicious?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you don't mean that——"</p> + +<p>He nodded.</p> + +<p>"But she hardly knows him! You told me yourself that she had only seen +him three or four times."</p> + +<p>"True, but you must remember that they met under very romantic +conditions. And Cyril is the sort of chap who would be likely to appeal +to a girl's imagination."</p> + +<p>"Lady Wilmersley in love! I can't believe it!" exclaimed Miss Trevor.</p> + +<p>"I wish I didn't," muttered Guy under his breath.</p> + +<p>She heard him, however, and laid her small, wrinkled hand tenderly on +his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"My poor boy, I guessed your trouble long ago."</p> + +<p>"Don't pity me! It doesn't hurt any longer—not much at least. When one +realises a thing is quite hopeless, one somehow ends by adjusting +oneself to the inevitable. What I feel for her now is more worship than +love. I want above all things that she should be happy, and if Cyril can +make her so, I would gladly speed his wooing."</p> + +<p>"Do you think he has any thought of her?"</p> + +<p>"I am sure he loves her."</p> + +<p>"Then why has he given no sign of life all these months?"</p> + +<p>"I fancy he is waiting for the year of their mourning to elapse. But I +confess that I am surprised that he has been able to restrain his +impatience as long as this. Every day I have expected—"</p> + +<p>"By Jove!" cried Campbell, springing to his feet, "there he is now!"</p> + +<p>Miss Trevor turned and saw a tall figure emerge from the house.</p> + +<p>Being plunged suddenly into the midst of romance, together with the +unexpected and dramatic arrival of the hero, was too much for the little +lady's composure. Her bag, her knitting, her glasses fell to the ground +unheeded as she rose hurriedly to receive Lord Wilmersley.</p> + +<p>"So glad to see you! Let me give you a cup of tea, or would you prefer +some whiskey and soda?" She was so flustered that she hardly knew what +she was saying.</p> + +<p>"Thanks, I won't take anything. Hello, Guy! You here? Rather fancied I +might run across you."</p> + +<p>Cyril's eyes strayed anxiously hither and thither.</p> + +<p>"Looking for Anita, are you?" asked Guy.</p> + +<p>"I?" Cyril gave a start of guilty surprise. "Yes, I was wondering where +she was." His tone was excessively casual.</p> + +<p>"Humph!" grunted Campbell contemptuously.</p> + +<p>"She has gone for a little walk, but as she never leaves the grounds, +she can't be very far off," said Miss Trevor.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps—" Cyril hesitated; he was painfully embarrassed.</p> + +<p>Guy came to his rescue.</p> + +<p>"Come along," he said. "I will show you where you are likely to find +her."</p> + +<p>"Thanks! I did rather want to see her—ahem, on business!"</p> + +<p>"On business? Oh, you old humbug!" jeered Campbell as he sauntered off.</p> + +<p>For a moment Cyril glared at Guy's back indignantly; then mumbling an +apology to Miss Trevor, he hastened after him.</p> + +<p>They had gone only a short distance before they espied a small, +black-robed figure coming towards them. Guy stopped short; he glanced at +Cyril, but the latter was no longer conscious of his presence. Without a +word he turned and hurriedly retraced his footsteps.</p> + +<p>"Well, Trevie," he said, "I must be going. Can't loaf forever, worse +luck!" His manner was quite ostentatiously cheerful.</p> + +<p>Miss Trevor, however, was not deceived by it. "You are a dear, +courageous boy," she murmured.</p> + +<p>With a flourish of his hat that seemed to repudiate all sympathy, Guy +turned on his heel and marched gallantly away.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, in another part of the garden, a very different scene was +being enacted.</p> + +<p>On catching sight of each other Cyril and Anita had both halted +simultaneously. Cyril's heart pounded so violently that he could hardly +hear himself think.</p> + +<p>"I must be calm," he said to himself. "I must be calm! But how beautiful +she is! If I only had a little more time to collect my wits! I know I +shall make an ass of myself!"</p> + +<p>As these thoughts went racing through his brain, he had been moving +almost automatically forward. Already he could distinguish the soft +curve of her parted lips and the colour of her dilated eyes.</p> + +<p>A sudden panic seized him. He was conscious of a wild desire to fly from +her presence; but it was too late. He was face to face with her.</p> + +<p>For a moment neither moved, but under the insistence of his gaze her +eyes slowly sank before his. Then, without a word, as one who merely +claims his own, he flung his arms around her and crushed her to his +heart.</p> + + +<h3>THE END</h3> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="A_Selection_from_the_Catalogue_of_G_P_PUTNAMS_SONS" id="A_Selection_from_the_Catalogue_of_G_P_PUTNAMS_SONS"></a><i>A Selection from the Catalogue of</i> G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS</h2> + + +<h3>The House Opposite</h3> + +<h3><i>A Mystery</i> By ELIZABETH KENT</h3> + +<h3>Author of "Who?"</h3> + + +<p>"It is a very hotbed of mystery, and everything and everybody connected +with it arouses curiosity.... The plot is unusually puzzling and the +author has been successful in producing a really admirable work. The +climax is highly sensational and unexpected, ingeniously leading the +reader from one guess to another, and finally culminating in a +remarkable confession."—<i>N. Y. Journal.</i></p> + + +<h3>Beyond the Law</h3> + +<h3>By Miriam Alexander</h3> + +<h3><i>The Great Prize Novel Awarded Prize of $1,250.00</i></h3> + +<h3><i>Endorsed by A. C. Benson, A. E. W. Mason, W. J. Locke</i></h3> + + +<p>"We have individually and unanimously given first place to the MSS. +entitled 'Beyond the Law.' It is a lively, unaffected, and interesting +story of good craftsmanship, showing imagination and insight, with both +vivid and dramatic qualities."</p> + +<p>The scene is laid in Ireland and in France, the time is the William of +Orange period, and deals with the most cruel persecution against the +Catholics of Ireland.</p> + + +<h3>The Way of an Eagle</h3> + +<h3>By E. M. Dell</h3> + +<h3><i>Frontispiece in Color by John Cassel</i></h3> + +<p>"<i>A born teller of stories. She certainly has the right stuff in +her.</i>"—London Standard.</p> + +<p>"In these days of overmuch involved plot and diction in the writing of +novels, a book like this brings a sense of refreshment, as much by the +virility and directness of its style as by the interest of the story it +tells.... The human interest of the book is absorbing. The descriptions +of life in India and England are delightful.... But it is the intense +humanity of the story—above all, that of its dominating character, Nick +Ratcliffe, that will win for it a swift appreciation."—<i>Boston +Transcript.</i></p> + +<p>"Well written, wholesome, overflowing with sentiment, yet never mawkish. +Lovers of good adventure will enjoy its varied excitement, while the +frankly romantic will peruse its pages with joy."—<i>Chicago +Record-Herald.</i></p> + + +<h3>Through the Postern Gate</h3> + +<h3>A Romance in Seven Days. (Under the Mulberry Tree.)</h3> + +<h3><i>By</i> Florence L. Barclay</h3> + +<h3>Author of "The Rosary," "The Mistress of Shenstone," "The Following of +the Star."</h3> + +<p>"<i>A masterpiece.</i>"—Phila. Ledger</p> + +<p>"The well-known author of 'The Rosary' has not sought problems to solve +nor social conditions to arraign in her latest book, but has been +satisfied to tell a sweet and appealing love-story in a wholesome, +simple way.... There is nothing startling nor involved in the plot, and +yet there is just enough element of doubt in the story to stimulate +interest and curiosity. The book will warm the heart with its sweet and +straightforward story of life and love in a romantic setting."—<i>The +Literary Digest.</i></p> + +<p><i>Nearly One Million copies of Mrs. Barclay's popular stories have now +been printed.</i></p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WHO?***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 35205-h.txt or 35205-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/5/2/0/35205">http://www.gutenberg.org/3/5/2/0/35205</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution.</p> + + + +<pre> +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license)</a>. + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS,' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's +eBook number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII, +compressed (zipped), HTML and others. + +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks replace the old file and take over +the old filename and etext number. The replaced older file is renamed. +VERSIONS based on separate sources are treated as new eBooks receiving +new filenames and etext numbers. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org">http://www.gutenberg.org</a> + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + +EBooks posted prior to November 2003, with eBook numbers BELOW #10000, +are filed in directories based on their release date. If you want to +download any of these eBooks directly, rather than using the regular +search system you may utilize the following addresses and just +download by the etext year. + +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/etext06/">http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/etext06/</a> + + (Or /etext 05, 04, 03, 02, 01, 00, 99, + 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90) + +EBooks posted since November 2003, with etext numbers OVER #10000, are +filed in a different way. The year of a release date is no longer part +of the directory path. The path is based on the etext number (which is +identical to the filename). The path to the file is made up of single +digits corresponding to all but the last digit in the filename. For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/GUTINDEX.ALL">http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/GUTINDEX.ALL</a> + +*** END: FULL LICENSE *** +</pre> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/35205-h/images/cover.jpg b/35205-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4d54609 --- /dev/null +++ b/35205-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/35205-h/images/diagram.jpg b/35205-h/images/diagram.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6e5279d --- /dev/null +++ b/35205-h/images/diagram.jpg diff --git a/35205-h/images/front.jpg b/35205-h/images/front.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5c5cee0 --- /dev/null +++ b/35205-h/images/front.jpg diff --git a/35205.txt b/35205.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e8f3aca --- /dev/null +++ b/35205.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8912 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Who?, by Elizabeth Kent + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Who? + + +Author: Elizabeth Kent + + + +Release Date: February 7, 2011 [eBook #35205] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WHO?*** + + +E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Mary Meehan, and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made +available by Internet Archive/American Libraries +(http://www.archive.org/details/americana) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 35205-h.htm or 35205-h.zip: + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/35205/35205-h/35205-h.htm) + or + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/35205/35205-h.zip) + + + Images of the original pages are available through + Internet Archive/American Libraries. See + http://www.archive.org/details/whobyelizabethke00kentiala + + + + + +WHO? + +by + +ELIZABETH KENT + +Author of "The House Opposite," etc. + + + + + + + +G. P. Putnam's Sons +New York and London +The Knickerbocker Press +1912 + +Copyright, 1912 +By G. P. Putnam's Sons + +The Knickerbocker Press, New York + + + + +[Illustration: "Here, quick, I hear footsteps on the stairs!" + +From the drawing by John Cassel, (Chapter XX)] + + + + +CONTENTS + + + I. THE WOMAN IN THE COMPARTMENT + + II. "MRS. PETER THOMPKINS" + + III. THE TRIBULATIONS OF A LIAR + + IV. ON THE SCENE OF THE TRAGEDY + + V. THE DETECTIVE DETECTS + + VI. THE MYSTERIOUS MAID + + VII. THE INQUEST + + VIII. LADY UPTON + + IX. THE JEWELS + + X. THE TWO FRENCHMEN + + XI. THE INSPECTOR INTERVIEWS CYRIL + + XII. A PERILOUS VENTURE + + XIII. CAMPBELL REMONSTRATES + + XIV. WHAT IS THE TRUTH? + + XV. FINGER PRINTS IN THE DUST + + XVI. THE STORY OF A WRONG + + XVII. GUY RELENTS + + XVIII. A SLIP OF THE TONGUE + + XIX. AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR + + XX. "I KNOW IT, COUSIN CYRIL" + + XXI. THE TRUTH + + XXII. CAMPBELL RESIGNS + + + + +Who? + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE WOMAN IN THE COMPARTMENT + + +It was six o'clock on a raw October morning, and the cross Channel boat +had just deposited its cargo of pale and dishevelled passengers at +Newhaven. Cyril Crichton, having seen his servant place his bags in a +first-class compartment, gazed gloomily at the scene before him. + +It was the first time in three years that he had set foot on his native +shore and the occasion seemed invested with a certain solemnity. + +"What a mess I have made of my life! Yet God knows I meant well!" He +muttered in his heart. "If I hadn't been such a good-natured ass, I +should never have got into all this trouble. But I won't be made a fool +of any longer. I will consult Campbell as to what--" He paused. It +suddenly occurred to him that he had forgotten to let the latter know of +his impending arrival. "I will send him a wire," he decided. + +The telegraph-office was farther off than he expected, and to Crichton's +disgust, he found it shut. He had forgotten that in well-regulated +England, even matters of life and death have to wait till the offices +open at eight A.M. + +He was still staring at the closed window, when he was startled by the +guard's whistle, and the slamming of the carriage doors. Turning +quickly, he ran back, trying to find his compartment, but it was too +late; the train was already moving. Flinging off a porter's detaining +hand, he jumped on to the foot-board and wrenched open the nearest door. +The impetus flung him headlong into the lap of a lady,--the sole +occupant of the carriage. To his horror and amazement, instead of +listening to his apologies, she uttered a piercing shriek and fell +forward into his arms. For a moment Crichton was too dazed to move. +There he knelt, tightly clasping her limp form and wondering fearfully +what would happen next. At last he managed to pull himself together, and +staggering to his feet, laid her gently on the seat near the window. +Strangely enough, he had had no idea, so far, as to the appearance, or +even the age, of the lady with whom fate had thrown him into such +intimate contact: consequently he now looked at her with considerable +curiosity. Her slight, graceful figure proclaimed her youth, but her +face was completely concealed by a thick, black veil, which prevented +him from so much as guessing the outline of her features. As she +continued to show no sign of returning consciousness, Crichton looked +helplessly around for some means of reviving her. More air was what she +needed; so with much trepidation he decided to unfasten her veil. His +fingers fumbled clumsily over their unaccustomed task, but finally the +last knot was disentangled, the last pin extracted. The unknown proved +to be even younger than he expected, and to possess beauty of the kind +which admits of no discussion. At present, however, it was sadly marred +by a red welt, probably the result of a fall, Crichton decided, which +disfigured her left cheek. A minute before he had been cursing his luck, +which invariably landed him in strange adventures, but at the sight of +her beauty, our hero suddenly ceased to find the situation annoying. His +interest, however, increased his alarm. What if she were dead or dying? +Heart attacks were not uncommon. Bending over her, he laid his hand on +her heart, and as he did so, the long lashes lifted, and a pair of +sapphire blue eyes looked straight into his. Before he had time to move, +she threw out both hands and cried: "Oh, let me go!" + +"Don't be alarmed. Notwithstanding my unceremonious entrance, I assure +you, I am a perfectly respectable member of society. My name is +Crichton." + +The girl staggered to her feet. "Crichton?" she gasped. + +He looked at her in surprise. + +"Yes, Crichton. Do you know any member of my family by any chance? My +cousin, Lord Wilmersley, has a place near here." + +"No," she faltered, "I--I am quite a stranger in this part of the +country." + +He was sure she was lying, but what could be her object in doing so? And +why had his name caused her such alarm? What unpleasant connection could +she possibly have with it? The only male members of his family who bore +it, were, a curate, serving his probation in the East End of London, and +a boy at Eton. + +"That is a pity," he said. "I hoped we might find some mutual friends +who would vouch for my inoffensiveness. I can't tell you how sorry I am +to have given you such a fright. It was unpardonably stupid of me. The +fact is, I am rather absent-minded, and I should have been left behind +if I had not tumbled in on you as I did. Please forgive me." + +"On the contrary, it is I who should apologise to you for having made +such a fuss about nothing. You must have thought me quite mad." She +laughed nervously. + +"Madam," he replied, with mock solemnity, "I assure you I never for a +moment doubted your sanity, and I am an expert in such matters." + +"Are you really?" She shrank farther from him. + +"Really what?" he inquired, considerably puzzled. + +"A--a brain specialist? That is what they are called, isn't it?" + +He laughed heartily. + +"No, indeed. But you said----" + +"Of course! How stupid of me!" + +"Why should you know that I am a soldier?" + +She blushed vividly. "You don't look like a civilian." + +"At all events I hope I don't look like the keeper of an insane asylum." + +"No, indeed. But you said----" + +"Oh, as to being an expert. Was that it? I must plead guilty to having +attempted a feeble joke, though as a matter of fact, it so happened that +I do know something about lunatics." + +"Aren't you dreadfully afraid of them?" + +"On general principles, of course, I am afraid of nothing, but I fancy a +full-grown lunatic, with a carving knife and a hankering for my blood, +would have a different tale to tell." + +"Oh, don't speak of them!" She covered her eyes with her hands. + +"I beg your pardon." + +"Why should you beg my pardon?" she asked looking at him suspiciously. + +"I really don't know," he acknowledged. + +"I know that I am behaving like a hysterical schoolgirl. What must you +think of me! But,--but I am just recovering from an illness and am still +very nervous, and the mere mention of lunatics always upsets me. I have +the greatest horror of them." + +"Poor child, she must have been through some terrible experience with +one," thought Crichton. + +"I trust you may never meet any," he said aloud. + +"I don't intend to." She spoke with unexpected vehemence. + +"Well, there is not much chance of your doing so. Certified lunatics +find it pretty difficult to mingle in general society." + +"I know--oh, I know--" Her voice sounded almost regretful. + +What an extraordinary girl! Could it be--was it possible that she +herself--but no, her behaviour was certainly strange and she seemed +hysterical, but mad--no, and yet that would explain everything. + +"I am sure it was the horrid crossing which upset you--as much as +anything else," he said. + +"I didn't cross, I--" She stopped abruptly, and bit her lip. + +It was quite obvious that for some reason or other, she had not wished +him to know that she had got in at Newhaven. He knew that politeness +demanded he should not pursue a subject which was evidently distasteful +to her. But his curiosity overcame his scruples. + +"Really? It is rather unusual to take this train unless one is coming +from the continent." + +"Yes. One has to start so frightfully early. I had to get up a little +before five." That meant she must live in Newhaven, and not far from the +station at that--but was it true? She had about her that indescribable +something which only those possess whose social position has never been +questioned. No, Newhaven did not seem the background for her. But then, +had she not herself told him that she did not live there? She might have +gone there on an errand of charity or--After all, what business was it +of his? Why should he attempt to pry into her life? It was abominable. + +She settled herself in a corner of the carriage, and he fancied that she +wished to avoid further conversation. Serve him jolly well right, he +thought. + +During the rest of the journey his behaviour was almost ostentatiously +discreet. If she feared that he was likely to take advantage of the +situation, he was determined to show her that he had no intention of +doing so. To avoid staring at her he kept his eyes fixed on the rapidly +changing landscape; but they might have been suddenly transported to +China without his observing the difference. In fact, he had not realised +that they were nearing their destination, till he saw his companion +readjust her veil. A few minutes later the train stopped at Hearne Hill. + +Crichton put his head out of the window. + +"There is something up," he said, a moment later turning to her. "There +must be a criminal on board. There are a lot of policemen about, and +they seem to be searching the train." + +"Oh, what shall I do!" she cried, starting to her feet. + +"What is the matter?" + +"They will shut me up. Oh, save me--save me!" + +For a moment he was too startled to speak. + +Was it possible? This girl a criminal--a thief? He couldn't believe it. + +"But what have you done?" + +"Nothing, nothing I assure you. Oh, believe me, it is all a mistake." + +He looked at her again. Innocent or guilty, he would stand by her. + +"They will be here directly," he said. "Have you enough self-control to +remain perfectly calm and to back up any story I tell?" + +"Yes." + +"Sit down then, and appear to be talking to me." + +"Tickets, please." The guard was at the door, and behind him stood a +police inspector. + +Crichton having given up his ticket, turned to the girl and said: "You +have your ticket, Amy." + +She handed it over. + +"From Newhaven, I see." The inspector stepped forward: + +"I must ask the lady to lift 'er veil, please." + +"What do you mean, my man? Are you drunk? + +"Steady, sir. Do you know this lady?" + +"This lady happens to be my wife, so you will kindly explain your +extraordinary behaviour." + +The inspector looked a little nonplussed. + +"Sorry to hinconvenience you, sir, but we 'ave orders to search this +train for a young lady who got in at Newhaven. Now this is the only lady +on board whose ticket was not taken in Paris. So you see we have got to +make sure that this is not the person we want." + +"But, man alive, I tell you this lady is my wife." + +"So you say, sir, but you can't prove it, can you, now? You're +registered through from Paris, and this lady gets in at Newhaven. How do +you explain that?" + +"Of course, one doesn't travel about with one's marriage +certificate--but as it happens, I can prove that this lady is my wife. +Here is my passport; kindly examine it. Mrs. Crichton returned to +England several months ago, and went down to Newhaven last night so as +to be able to meet me this morning. As to lifting her veil, of course +she has no objection to doing so. I thought it idle curiosity on your +part, but as it is a question of duty, that alters the case completely." + +"Thank you, sir." The inspector opened the passport and read aloud. +"Cyril Crichton--Lieutenant in the--Rifles, age 27 years, height 6 ft., +1 inch, weight 12 stone. Hair--fair; complexion--fair, inclined to be +ruddy. Eyes--blue. Nose--straight, rather short. Mouth--large. +Distinguishing marks: cleft in chin." And as he read each item, he +paused to compare the written description with the original. + +"Well, that's all right," he said. "And now for the lady's. Will you +kindly lift your veil, m'm?" + +To Crichton's surprise, the girl did so quite calmly, and her face, +although deadly pale, was perfectly composed. + +The inspector read: "Amy Crichton, wife of Cyril Crichton, age--26 +years--H'm that seems a bit old for the lady." + +The girl blushed vividly, but to Crichton's infinite relief she smiled +gaily, and with a slight bow to the inspector said: "You flatter me." + +Crichton breathed more freely. Her manner had done more to relieve the +situation than anything he had said. The inspector continued in quite a +different tone. + +"'Height--5 ft., 4 inches.' You look a bit shorter than that." + +"Measure me, if you doubt it." She challenged him. + +"Oh, well, I am sure it is all right. 'Weight--9 stone, 4 lbs.'" He +paused again, but this time made no comment, although Crichton felt sure +that his companion weighed at least ten pounds less than the amount +mentioned. "Hair--black. Complexion--fair. Eyes--blue. Nose--straight. +Mouth--small. Oval chin. Distinguishing marks--none. All right, m'm! +Sorry to 'ave disturbed you, but you understand we 'ave got to be very +careful. We'd never 'ear the last of it if we let the party we're after +slip through our fingers." + +"What is the woman you are looking for accused of?" asked Crichton. + +"Murder," replied the inspector, as he closed the door. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +"MRS. PETER THOMPKINS" + + +"Murder!" + +Crichton looked at the girl. Her eyes were closed and she lay back +breathing heavily. He did not know if she had even heard the accusation. +Luckily the train was already moving. In a few minutes, however, they +would be in London and then what should he do with her? Now that he had +declared her to be his wife, it would arouse the suspicion of the police +if he parted from her at the station. Besides, he could not desert the +poor child in her terrible predicament. For she was innocent, he was +sure of that. But here he was wasting precious time worrying about the +future, when he ought to be doing something to revive her. It was simply +imperative that she should be able to leave the train without exciting +remark, as, once outside the station, the immediate danger would be +over. His ministrations, however, were quite ineffectual, and, to his +dismay, the train came to a standstill before she showed a sign of +returning consciousness. + +A porter opened the door. + +"Bring a glass of water; the lady has fainted," he ordered. The porter +returned in a few minutes followed by the police inspector. Crichton's +heart sank. He fancied the latter eyed them with reawakened suspicion. +As he knelt by the girl's side, her head on his shoulder, his arms +around her, he suddenly became aware that a number of people had +collected near the door and were watching the scene with unconcealed +interest And among them stood Peter, his valet, staring at him with +open-mouthed amazement. + +Damn! He had completely forgotten him. If he didn't look out, the fellow +would be sure to give the situation away. + +"Peter," he called. + +Peter elbowed his way through the crowd. + +"Your mistress has fainted. Get my flask." Crichton spoke slowly and +distinctly and looked Peter commandingly in the eye. Would he +understand? Would he hold his tongue? Crichton watched him breathlessly. +For a moment Peter blinked at him uncomprehendingly. Then the surprise +slowly faded from his face, leaving it as stolid as usual. + +"Very well, sir," was all he said as he went off automatically to do his +master's bidding. An order has a wonderfully steadying effect on a +well-trained servant. + +The brandy having been brought, Crichton tried to force a few drops of +it between the girl's clenched teeth. After a few minutes, however, he +had to abandon the attempt. + +The situation was desperate. + +The inspector stepped forward. + +"Don't you think, sir, you ought to send for a doctor? The lady looks +bad and she can't stay here, you know. The train has to be backed out in +a few minutes. We'll carry her to the waiting-room if you wish, or come +to think of it, hadn't you better call an ambulance? Then you could take +the lady home and the doctor who comes with them things would know what +to do for her." + +Crichton almost gasped with relief. + +"An ambulance! The very thing. Get one immediately!" + +The last passenger was just leaving the station when the ambulance +clattered up. + +The doctor, although hardly more than a boy, seemed to know his +business, and after examining the girl and asking a few questions, he +proceeded to administer various remedies, which he took out of a bag he +carried. + +"I am afraid this case is too serious for me," he said at last. + +"What is the trouble?" + +"Of course, I can't speak with any certainty, but from what you tell me, +I think the lady is in for an attack of brain fever." + +Crichton felt _his_ brain reel. + +"What shall I do?" + +"We will take her home and in the meantime telephone to whatever doctor +you wish to have called, so that he can see the patient as soon as +possible." + +"I have no house in town. I was going into lodgings but I can't take an +invalid there." + +"Of course not! What do you say to taking her at once to a nursing +home?" + +"Yes, that would be best. Which one would you recommend? I am ignorant +of such matters." + +"Well--Dr. Stuart-Smith has one not far from here. You know him by +reputation, don't you?" + +"Certainly. All right, take her there." + +"I had better telephone and prepare them for our arrival. What is the +lady's name, please?" + +The inspector's eyes were upon him; Peter was at his elbow. Well--there +was no help for it. + +"Mrs. Cyril Crichton," he said. + +The doctor returned in a few minutes. + +"It is all right. They have got a room and Doctor Smith will be there +almost as soon as we are." + +Having lifted her into the ambulance, the doctor turned to Cyril and +said: "I suppose you prefer to accompany Mrs. Crichton. You can get in, +in front." + +Crichton meekly obeyed. + +"Take my things to the lodgings and wait for me there, and by the way, +be sure to telephone at once to Mr. Campbell and tell him I must see him +immediately," he called to Peter as they drove off. + +They had apparently got rid of the police--that was something at all +events. His own position, however, caused him the gravest concern. It +was not only compromising but supremely ridiculous. He must extricate +himself from it at once. His only chance, he decided, lay in confiding +the truth to Dr. Smith. Great physicians have necessarily an enormous +knowledge of life and therefore he would be better able than any other +man to understand the situation and advise him as to what should be +done. At all events the etiquette of his calling would prevent a doctor +from divulging a professional secret, even in the case of his failing to +sympathise with his, Cyril's, knight-errantry. Crichton heaved a sigh of +satisfaction. His troubles, he foresaw, would soon be over. + +The ambulance stopped. The girl was carried into the house and taken +possession of by an efficient-looking nurse, and Cyril was requested to +wait in the reception-room while she was being put to bed. Dr. Smith, he +was told, would communicate with him as soon as he had examined the +patient. + +Crichton paced the room in feverish impatience. His doubts revived. What +if the doctor should refuse to keep her? Again and again he rehearsed +what he intended to say to him, but the oftener he did so, the more +incredible did his story appear. It also occurred to him that a +physician might not feel himself bound to secrecy when it was a question +of concealing facts other than those relating to a patient's physical +condition. What if the doctor should consider it his duty to inform the +police of her whereabouts? + +At last the door opened. Dr. Smith proved to be a short, grey-haired man +with piercing, black eyes under beetling, black brows, large nose, and a +long upper lip. Cyril's heart sank. The doctor did not look as if he +would be likely to sympathise with his adventure. + +"Mr. Crichton, I believe." The little man spoke quite fiercely and +regarded our friend with evident disfavour. + +Crichton was for a moment nonplussed. What had he done to be addressed +in such a fashion? + +"I hope you can give me good news of the patient?" he said, disregarding +the other's manner. + +"No," snapped out the doctor. "Mrs. Crichton is very seriously, not to +say dangerously, ill." + +What an extraordinary way of announcing a wife's illness to a supposed +husband! Was every one mad to-day? + +"I am awfully sorry--" began Crichton. + +"Oh, you are, are you?" interrupted the doctor, and this time there +could be no doubt he was intentionally insulting. "Will you then be kind +enough to explain how your wife happens to be in the condition she is?" + +"What condition?" faltered Cyril. + +"Tut, man, don't pretend to be ignorant. Remember I am a doctor and can +testify to the facts; yes, facts," he almost shouted. + +Poor Crichton sat down abruptly. He really felt he could bear no more. + +"For God's sake, doctor, tell me what is the matter with her. I swear I +haven't the faintest idea." + +His distress was so evidently genuine that the doctor relaxed a little +and looked at him searchingly for a moment. + +"Your wife has been recently flogged!" + +"Flogged! How awful! But I can't believe it." + +"Indeed!" + +"Certainly not. You must be mistaken. The bruises may be the result of a +fall." + +"They are not," snapped the doctor. + +"Flogged! here in England, in the twentieth century! But who could have +done such a thing?" + +"That is for you to explain, and I must warn you that unless your +explanation is unexpectedly satisfactory, I shall at once notify the +police." + +Police! Crichton wiped beads of perspiration from his forehead. + +"But, doctor, I know no more about it than you do." + +"So you think that it will be sufficient for you to deny all knowledge +as to how, where, and by whom a woman who is your wife--yes, sir--your +wife, has been maltreated? Man, do you take me for a fool?" + +What should he do? Was this the moment to tell him the truth? No, it +would be useless. The doctor, believing him to be a brute, was not in a +frame of mind to attach credence to his story. The truth was too +improbable, a convincing lie could alone save the situation. + +"My wife and I have not been living together lately," he stammered. + +"Indeed!" The piercing eyes seemed to grow more piercing, the long upper +lip to become longer. + +"Yes," Crichton hesitated--it is so difficult to invent a plausible +story on the spur of the moment. "In fact, I met her quite unexpectedly +in Newhaven." + +"In Newhaven?" + +"Yes. I have just arrived from France," continued Crichton more +fluently. An idea was shaping itself in his mind. "I was most astonished +to meet my wife in England as I had been looking for her in Paris for +the last week." + +"I don't understand." + +"My wife is unfortunately mentally unbalanced. For the last few months +she has been confined in an asylum." Crichton spoke with increasing +assurance. + +"Where was this asylum?" + +"In France." + +"Yes, but where? France is a big place." + +"It is called Charleroi and is about thirty miles from Paris in the +direction of Fontainebleau." + +"Who is the director of this institution?" + +"Dr. Leon Monet." + +"And you suggest that it was there that she was ill-treated. Let me tell +you----" + +Cyril interrupted him. + +"I suggest no such thing. My wife escaped from Charleroi over a week +ago. We know she went to Paris, but there we lost all trace of her. +Imagine my astonishment at finding her on the train this morning. How +she got there, I can't think. She seemed very much agitated, but I +attributed that to my presence. I have lately had a most unfortunate +effect upon her. I did ask her how she got the bruise on her cheek, but +she wouldn't tell me. I had no idea she was suffering. If I had been +guilty of the condition she is in, is it likely that I should have +brought her to a man of your reputation and character? I think that +alone proves my innocence." + +The doctor stared at him fixedly for a few moments as if weighing the +credibility of his explanation. + +"You say that the physician under whose care your wife has been is +called Monet?" + +"Yes, Leon Monet." + +The doctor left the room abruptly. When he returned, his bearing had +completely changed. + +"I have just verified your statement in a French medical directory and I +must apologise to you for having jumped at conclusions in the way I did. +Pray, forgive me----" + +Crichton bowed rather distantly. He didn't feel over-kindly to the man +who had forced him into such a quagmire of lies. + +"Now as to--" Cyril hesitated a moment; he detested calling the girl by +his name. "Now--as to--to--the patient. Have you any idea when she is +likely to recover consciousness?" + +"Not the faintest. Of course, what you tell me of her mental condition +increases the seriousness of the case. With hysterical cases anything +and everything is possible." + +"But you do not fear the--worst." + +"Certainly not. She is young. She will receive the best of care. I see +no reason why she should not recover. Now if you would like to remain +near her----" + +There seemed a conspiracy to keep him forever at the girl's side, but +this time he meant to break away even if he had to fight for it. + +"I shall, of course, remain near her," Cyril interrupted hastily. "I +have taken lodgings in Half Moon Street and shall stay there till she +has completely recovered. As she has lately shown the most violent +dislike of me, I think I had better not attempt to see her for the +present. Don't you agree with me?" + +"Certainly. I should not permit it under the circumstances." + +"I shall call daily to find out how she is, and if there is any change +in her condition, you will, of course, notify me at once." Crichton took +out a card and scribbled his address on it. "This will always find me. +And now I have a rather delicate request to make. Would you mind not +letting any one know the identity of your patient? You see I have every +hope that she will eventually recover her reason and therefore I wish +her malady to be kept a secret. I have told my friends that my wife is +in the south of France undergoing a species of rest cure." + +"I think you are very wise. I shall not mention her name to any one." + +"But the nurses?" + +"It is a rule of all nursing homes that a patient's name is never to be +mentioned to an outsider. But if you wish to take extra precautions, you +might give her another name while she is here and they need never know +that it is not her own." + +"Thank you. That is just what I should wish." + +"What do you think Mrs. Crichton had better be called?" + +Cyril thought a moment. + +"Mrs. Peter Thompkins, and I will become Mr. Thompkins. Please address +all communications to me under that name; otherwise the truth is sure to +leak out." + +"But how will you arrange to get your mail?" + +"Peter Thompkins is my valet, so that is quite simple." + +"Very well. Good-bye, Mr. Thompkins. I trust I shall soon have a better +report to give you of Mrs. Thompkins." + +A moment later Cyril was in a taxi speeding towards Mayfair, a free +man--for the moment. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE TRIBULATIONS OF A LIAR + + +While Crichton was dressing he glanced from time to time at his valet. +Peter had evidently been deeply shocked by the incident at the railway +station, for the blunt profile, so persistently presented to him, was +austerely remote as well as subtly disapproving. Cyril was fond of the +old man, who had been his father's servant and had known him almost from +his infancy. He felt that he owed him some explanation, particularly as +he had without consulting him made use of his name. + +But what should he say to him? Never before had he so fully realised the +joy, the comfort, the dignity of truth. It was not a virtue he decided; +it was a privilege. If he ever got out of the hole he was in, he meant +to wallow in it for the future. That happy time seemed, however, still +far distant. + +Believing the girl to be innocent, he wanted as few people as possible +to know the nature of the cloud which hung over her. Peter's loyalty, he +knew, he could count on, that had been often and fully proved; but his +discretion was another matter. Peter was no actor. If he had anything to +conceal, even his silence became so portentous of mystery that it could +not fail to arouse the curiosity of the most unsuspicious. No, he must +think of some simple story which would satisfy Peter as to the propriety +of his conduct and yet which, if it leaked out, would not be to the +girl's discredit. + +"You must have been surprised to hear me give my name to the young lady +you saw at the station," he began tentatively. + +"Yes, sir." Peter's expression relaxed. + +"Her story is a very sad one." So much at any rate must be true, thought +poor Cyril with some satisfaction. + +"Yes, sir." Peter was waiting breathlessly for the sequel. + +"I don't feel at liberty to repeat what she told me. You understand +that, don't you?" + +"Certainly, sir," agreed Peter, but his face fell. + +"So all I can tell you is that she was escaping from a brute who +horribly ill-treated her. Of course I offered to help her." + +"Of course," echoed Peter. + +"Unfortunately she was taken ill before she had told me her name or who +the friends were with whom she was seeking refuge. What was I to do? If +the police heard that a young girl had been found unconscious on the +train, the fact would have been advertised far and wide so as to enable +them to establish her identity, in which case the person from whom she +was hiding would have taken possession of her, which he has a legal +right to do--so she gave me to understand." Crichton paused quite out of +breath. He was doing beautifully. Peter was swallowing his tale +unquestionably--and really, you know, for an inexperienced liar that was +a reasonably probable story. "So you see," he continued, "it was +necessary for her to have a name and mine was the only one which would +not provoke further inquiry." + +"Begging your pardon, sir, but I should 'ave thought that Smith or Jones +would 'ave done just as well." + +"Certainly not. The authorities would have wanted further particulars +and would at once have detected the fraud. No one will ever know that I +lent an unfortunate woman for a few hours the protection of my name, and +there is no one who has the right to object to my having done so--except +the young lady herself." + +"Yes, sir, quite so." + +"On the other hand, on account of the position I am in at present, it is +most important that I should do nothing which could by any possibility +be misconstrued." + +"Yes, sir, certainly, sir." + +"And so I told the doctor that the young lady had better not be called +by my name while she is at the home and so--and so--well--in fact--I +gave her yours. I hope you don't mind?" + +"My name?" gasped Peter in a horrified voice. + +"Yes, you see you haven't got a wife, have you?" + +"Certainly not, sir!" + +"So there couldn't be any possible complications in your case." + +"One never can tell, sir--a name's a name and females are sometimes not +over-particular." + +"Don't be an ass! Why, you ought to feel proud to be able to be of use +to a charming lady. Where's your chivalry, Peter?" + +"I don't know, sir, but I do 'ope she's respectable," he answered +miserably. + +"Of course she is. Don't you know a lady when you see one?" + +Peter shook his head tragically. + +"I'm sorry you feel like that about it," said Crichton. "It never +occurred to me you would mind, and I haven't yet told you all. I not +only gave the young lady your name but took it myself." + +"Took my name!" + +"Yes. At the nursing home I am known as Mr. Peter Thompkins. Pray that I +don't disgrace you, Peter." + +"Oh, sir, a false name! If you get found out, they'll never believe you +are hinnocent when you've done a thing like that. Of course, a gentleman +like you hought to know his own business best, but it do seem to me most +awful risky." + +"Well, it's a risk that had to be taken. It was a choice of evils, I +grant you. Hah! I sniff breakfast; the bacon and eggs of my country +await me. I am famishing, and I say, Peter, do try to take a more +cheerful view of this business." + +"I'll try, sir." + +Crichton was still at breakfast when a short, red-haired young man +fairly burst into the room. + +"Guy Campbell!" exclaimed Cyril joyfully. + +"Hullo, old chap, glad to see you," cried the newcomer, pounding Cyril +affectionately on the back. "How goes it? I say, your telephone message +gave me quite a turn. What's up? Have you got into a scrape? You look as +calm as possible." + +"If I look calm, my looks belie me. I assure you I never felt less calm +in my life." + +"What on earth is the matter?" + +"You won't have some breakfast?" + +"Breakfast at half-past eleven! No thank you." + +"Well, then, take a cigarette, pull up that chair to the fire, and +listen--and don't play the fool; this is serious." + +"Fire away." + +"I want your legal advice, Guy, though I suppose you'll tell me I need a +solicitor, not a barrister. I wish to get a divorce." + +"A divorce? Why, Cyril, I am awfully sorry. I had heard that your +marriage hadn't turned out any too well, but I had no idea it was as bad +as that. You have proof, I suppose." + +"Ample." + +"Tell me the particulars. I never have heard anything against your +wife's character." + +"You mean that you have never heard that she was unfaithful to me. Bah, +it makes me sick the way people talk, as if infidelity were the only +vice that damned a woman's character. Guy, her character was rotten +through and through. Her infidelity was simply a minor, though +culminating, expression of it." + +"But how did you come to marry such a person?" + +"You know she was the Chalmerses' governess?" + +"Yes." + +"I had been spending a few weeks with them. Jack, the oldest son, was a +friend of mine and she was the daughter of a brother officer of old +Chalmers's who had died in India, and consequently her position in the +household was different from that of an ordinary governess. I soon got +quite friendly with Amy and her two charges, and we used to rag about +together a good deal. I liked her, but upon my honour I hadn't a thought +of making love to her. Then one day there was an awful row. They accused +her of carrying on a clandestine love affair with Freddy, the second +son, and with drinking on the sly. They had found empty bottles hidden +in her bedroom. She posed as injured innocence--the victim of a vile +plot to get her out of the house--had no money, no friends, no hope of +another situation. I was young; she was pretty. I was dreadfully sorry +for her and so--well, I married her. As the regiment had just been +ordered to South Africa, we went there immediately. We had not been +married a year, however, when I discovered that she was a confirmed +drunkard. I think only the fear of losing her position had kept her +within certain bounds. That necessity removed, she seemed unable to put +any restraint on herself. I doubt if she even tried to do so." + +"Poor Cyril!" + +"Later on I found out that she was taking drugs as well as stimulants. +She would drink herself into a frenzy and then stupefy herself with +opiates. But it is not only weakness I am accusing her of. She was +inherently deceitful and cruel--ah, what is the use of talking about it! +I have been through Hell." + +"You haven't been living together lately, have you?" + +"Well, you see, she was disgracing not only herself but the regiment, +and so it became a question of either leaving the army or getting her to +live somewhere else. So I brought her back to Europe, took a small villa +near Pau, and engaged an efficient nurse-companion to look after her. I +spent my leave with her, but that was all. Last spring, however, she got +so bad that her companion cabled for me. For a few weeks she was +desperately ill, and when she partially recovered, the doctor persuaded +me to send her to a sanitarium for treatment. Charleroi was recommended +to me. It was chiefly celebrated as a lunatic asylum, but it has an +annex where dipsomaniacs and drug fiends are cared for. At first, the +doctor's reports were very discouraging, but lately her improvement is +said to have been quite astonishing, so much so that it was decided that +I should take her away for a little trip. I was on my way to Charleroi, +when the news reached me that Amy had escaped. We soon discovered that +she had fled with a M. de Brissac, who had been discharged as cured the +day before my wife's disappearance. We traced them to within a few miles +of Paris, but there lost track of them. I have, however, engaged a +detective to furnish me with further particulars. I fancy the Frenchman +is keeping out of the way for fear I shall kill him. Bah! Why, I pity +him, that is all! He'll soon find out what that woman is like. He has +given me freedom! Oh, you can't realise what that means to me. I only +wish my father were alive to know that I have this chance of beginning +life over again." + +"I was so sorry to hear of his death. He was always so kind to us boys +when we stayed at Lingwood. I wrote you when I heard the sad news, but +you never answered any of my letters." + +"I know, old chap, but you must forgive me. I have been too +miserable--too ashamed. I only wanted to creep away and to be +forgotten." + +"Your father died in Paris, didn't he?" + +"Yes, luckily I was with him. It was just after I had taken Amy to +Charleroi. He was a broken-hearted man. He never got over the mess I had +made of my life and Wilmersley's marriage was the last straw. He brooded +over it continually." + +"Why had your father been so sure that Lord Wilmersley would never +marry? He was an old bachelor, but not so very old after all. He can't +be more than fifty now." + +"Well, you see, Wilmersley has a bee in his bonnet. His mother was a +Spanish ballet dancer whom my uncle married when he was a mere boy. She +was a dreadful old creature. I remember her distinctly, a great, fat +woman with a big, white face and enormous, glassy, black eyes. I was +awfully afraid of her. She died when Wilmersley was about twenty and my +uncle followed her a few months later. His funeral was hardly over when +my cousin left Geralton and nothing definite was heard of him for almost +twenty-five years. He was supposed to be travelling in the far East, and +from time to time some pretty queer rumours drifted back about him. +Whether they were true or not, I have never known. One day he returned +to Geralton as unexpectedly as he had left it. He sent for me at once. +He has immense family pride--the ballet dancer, I fancy, rankles--and +having decided for some reason or other not to marry, he wished his heir +to cut a dash. He offered me an allowance of L4000 a year, told me to +marry as soon as possible, and sent me home." + +"Well, that was pretty decent of him. You don't seem very grateful." + +"I can't bear him. He's a most repulsive-looking chap, a thorough +Spaniard, with no trace of his father's blood that I can see. And as I +married soon afterwards and my marriage was not to his liking, he +stopped my allowance and swore I should never succeed him if he could +help it. So you see I haven't much reason to be grateful to him." + +"Beastly shame! He married Miss Mannering, Lady Upton's granddaughter, +didn't he?" + +"Yes." + +"She is a little queer, I believe." + +"Really? I didn't know that. I have never seen her, but I hear she is +very pretty. Well, I'm sorry for her, brought up by that old curmudgeon +of a grandmother and married out of the schoolroom to Wilmersley. She +has never had much of a chance, has she?" + +"There are no children as yet?" + +"No." + +"So that now that your father is dead, you are the immediate heir." + +The door was flung open and Peter rushed into the room brandishing a +paper. + +"Oh, sir, it's come at last! I always felt it would!" He stuttered with +excitement. + +"What on earth is the matter with you?" + +"I beg pardon, sir, but I am that hovercome! I heard them crying +'hextras,' so I went out and gets one--just casual-like. Little did I +think what would be in it--and there it was." + +"There was what?" Both men spoke at once, leaning eagerly forward. + +"That Lord Wilmersley is dead; and so, my lord, I wish you much joy and +a long life." + +"This is very sudden," gasped Crichton. "I hadn't heard he was ill. What +did he die of?" + +"'E was murdered, my lord." + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +ON THE SCENE OF THE TRAGEDY + + +"When, how, who did it?" cried Cyril incoherently. "Give me the paper." + +"Murder of Lord Wilmersley--disappearance of Lady Wilmersley," he read. +"Disappearance of Lady Wilmersley," he repeated, as the paper fell from +his limp hand. + +"Here, get your master some whiskey; the shock has been too much for +him," said Camp bell. "Mysterious disappearance of Lady Wilmersley," +murmured Crichton, staring blankly in front of him. + +"Here, drink this, old man; you'll be all right in a moment," said +Campbell, pressing a glass into his hand. + +Cyril emptied it automatically. + +"The deuce take it!" he cried, covering his face with his hands. + +"Shall I read you the particulars?" Campbell asked, taking the paper. +Cyril nodded assent. + +"'The body of Lord Wilmersley was found at seven o'clock this morning +floating in the swimming bath at Geralton. It was at first thought that +death had been caused by drowning, but on examination, a bullet wound +was discovered over the heart. Search for the pistol with which the +crime was committed has so far proved fruitless. The corpse was dressed +in a long, Eastern garment frequently worn by the deceased. Lady +Wilmersley's bedroom, which adjoins the swimming bath, was empty. The +bed had not been slept in. A hurried search of the castle and grounds +was at once made, but no trace of her ladyship has been discovered. It +is feared that she also has been murdered and her body thrown into the +lake, which is only a short distance from the castle. None of her +wearing apparel is missing, even the dress and slippers she wore on the +previous evening were found in a corner of her room. Robbery was +probably the motive of the crime, as a small safe, which stands next to +Lady Wilmersley's bed and contained her jewels, has been rifled. Whoever +did this must, however, have known the combination, as the lock has not +been tampered with. This adds to the mystery of the case. Lady +Wilmersley is said to be mentally unbalanced. Arthur Edward Crichton, +9th Baron Wilmersley, was born--' here follows a history of your family, +Cyril, you don't want to hear that. Well, what do you think of it?" +asked Campbell. + +"It's too horrible! I can't think," said Crichton. + +"I don't believe Lady Wilmersley was murdered," said Campbell. "Why +should a murderer have troubled to remove one body and not the other? +Mark my words, it was his wife who killed Wilmersley and opened the +safe." + +"I don't believe it! I won't believe it!" cried Cyril. "Besides, how +could she have got away without a dress or hat? Remember they make a +point of the fact that none of her clothes are missing." + +"In the first place, you can't believe everything you read in a +newspaper; but even granting the correctness of that statement, what was +there to prevent her having borrowed a dress from one of her maids? She +must have had one, you know." + +"No--no! It can't be, I tell you; I--" Cyril stopped abruptly. + +"What's the matter with you? You look as guilty as though you had killed +him yourself. I can't for the life of me see why you take the thing so +terribly to heart. You didn't like your cousin and from what you +yourself tell me, I fancy he is no great loss to any one, and you don't +know his wife--widow, I mean." + +"It is such a shock," stammered Cyril. + +"Of course it's a shock, but you ought to think of your new duties. You +will have to go to Geralton at once?" + +"Yes, I suppose it will be expected of me," Cyril assented gloomily. +"Peter, pack my things and find out when the next train leaves." + +"Very well, my lord." + +"And Guy, you will come with me, won't you? I really can't face this +business alone. Besides, your legal knowledge may come in useful." + +"I am awfully sorry, but I really can't come to-day. I've got to be in +court this afternoon; but I'll come as soon as I can, if you really want +me." + +"Do!" + +"Of course I want to be of use if I can, but a detective is really what +you need." + +"A detective?" gasped Cyril. + +"Well, why not? Don't look as if I had suggested your hiring a camel!" + +"Yes, of course not--I mean a detective is--would be--in fact--very +useful," stammered Cyril. Why couldn't Guy mind his own business? + +"Why not get one and take him down with you?" persisted Campbell. + +"Oh, no!" Cyril hurriedly objected, "I don't think I had better do that. +They may have one already. Shouldn't like to begin by hurting local +feeling and--and all that, you know." + +"Rot!" + +"At any rate, I'm not going to engage any one till I've looked into the +matter myself," said Cyril. "If I find I need a man, I'll wire." + +Campbell, grumbling about unnecessary delay, let the matter drop. + +Two hours later Cyril was speeding towards Newhaven. + +Huddled in a corner of the railway carriage, he gave himself up to the +gloomiest reflections. Was ever any one pursued by such persistent +ill-luck? It seemed too hard that just as he began to see an end to his +matrimonial troubles, he should have tumbled headlong into this terrible +predicament. From the moment he heard of Lady Wilmersley's disappearance +he had never had the shadow of a doubt but that it was she he had +rescued that morning from the police. What was he going to do, now that +he knew her identity? He must decide on a course of action at once. Wash +his hands of her? No-o. He felt he couldn't do that--at least, not yet. +But unless he immediately and voluntarily confessed the truth, who would +believe him if it ever came to light? If it were discovered that he, the +heir, had helped his cousin's murderess to escape--had posed as her +husband, would any one, would any jury believe that chance alone had +thrown them together? He might prove an alibi, but that would only save +his life--not his honour. He would always be suspected of having +instigated, if not actually committed, the murder. + +If, however, by some miracle the truth did not leak out, what then? It +would mean that from this day forward he would live in constant fear of +detection. The very fact of her secret existence must necessarily poison +his whole life. Lies, lies, lies would be his future portion. Was he +willing to assume such a burden? Was it his duty to take upon himself +the charge of a woman who was after all but a homicidal maniac? But was +she a maniac? Again and again he went over each incident of their +meeting, weighed her every word and action, and again he found it +impossible to believe that her mind was unbalanced. Yet if she was not +insane, what excuse could he find to explain her crime? Provocation? +Yes, she had had that. She had been beaten, flogged. But even so, to +kill! He had once been present when a murderer was sentenced: "To hang +by the neck until you are dead," the words rang in his ears. That small +white neck--no--never. Suddenly he realised that his path was +irrevocably chosen. As long as she needed him, he would protect her to +the uttermost of his ability. Even if his efforts proved futile, even if +he ruined his life without saving hers, he felt he would never regret +his decision. + +"Newhaven." + +It seemed centuries since he had left it that morning. Hiring a fly, he +drove out to Geralton, a distance of nine miles. There the door was +opened by the same butler who had admitted him five years previously. +"It's Mr. Cyril!" he cried, falling back a step. "Why, sir, they all +told us as 'ow you were in South Africa. But I bid you welcome, sir." + +"Thank you. I am glad to see you again." + +"Thank you, sir,--my lord, I mean, and please forgive your being +received like this--but every one is so upset, there's no doing nothing +with nobody. If you will step in 'ere, I'll call Mrs. Eversley, the +'ousekeeper." + +"Is Mrs. Eversley still here? I remember her perfectly. She used to +stuff me with doughnuts when I came here as a boy. Tell her I will see +her presently." + +"Very good, my lord." + +"Now I want to hear all the particulars of the tragedy. The newspaper +account was very meagre." + +"Quite so, my lord," assented the butler. + +"Lady Wilmersley has not been found?" asked Cyril. + +"No, my lord. We've searched for her ladyship 'igh and low. Not a trace +of her. And now every one says as 'ow she did it. But I'll never believe +it--never. A gentle little lady, she was, and so easily frightened! Why, +if my lord so much as looked at her sometimes, she'd fall a trembling, +and 'e always so kind and devoted to 'er. 'E just doted on 'er, 'e did. +I never saw nothing like it." + +"If you don't believe her ladyship guilty, is there any one else you do +suspect?" + +"No, my lord, I can't say as I do." He spoke regretfully. "It was a +burglar, I believe. I think the detective----" + +"What detective?" interrupted Cyril. + +"His name is Judson; 'e comes from London and they say as 'e can find a +murderer just by looking at the chair 'e sat in." + +"Who sent for him? The police?" + +"No, it was Mr. Twombley of Crofton. He said we owed it to 'er ladyship +to hemploy the best talent." + +"Where is the detective now?" + +"'E's in the long drawing-room with Mr. Twombley." + +"Has the inquest been held?" + +"No, the corpse won't be sat on till to-morrow morning." + +"Show me the way to the drawing-room. I don't quite remember it." + +The butler preceded him across the hall and throwing open a door +announced in a loud voice: + +"Lord Wilmersley." + +The effect was electrical. Four men who had been deep in conversation +turned and stared open-mouthed at Cyril, and one of them, a short fat +man in clerical dress, dropped his teacup in his agitation. + +"Who?" bellowed a tall, florid old gentleman. + +The butler, secretly delighted at having produced such a sensation, +closed the door discreetly after him. + +"I don't wonder you are surprised to see me. You thought I was with my +regiment." + +"So you're the little shaver I knew as a boy? Well, you've grown a bit +since then. Hah, hah." Then, recollecting the solemnity of the occasion, +he subdued his voice. "I'm Twombley, friend of your father's, you know, +and this is Mr. James, your vicar, and this is Mr. Tinker, the coroner, +and this is Judson, celebrated detective, you know. I sent for him. Hope +you approve? Terrible business, what?" + +"It has been a great shock to me, and I am very glad to have Judson's +assistance," replied Cyril, casting a searching and apprehensive glance +at the detective. + +He was a small, clean-shaven man with short, grey hair, grey eyebrows, +grey complexion, dressed in a grey tweed suit. His features were +peculiarly indefinite. His half-closed eyes, lying in the shadow of the +overhanging brows, were fringed with light eyelashes and gave no accent +to his expressionless face. + +At all events, thought Cyril, he doesn't look very alarming, but then, +you never can tell. + +"I must condole with you on the unexpected loss of a relative, who was +in every way an honour to his name and his position," said the vicar, +holding out a podgy hand. + +Cyril was so taken aback at this unexpected tribute to his cousin's +memory that he was only able to murmur a discreet "Thank you." + +"The late Lord Wilmersley," said the coroner, "was a most +public-spirited man and is a loss to the county." + +"Quite so, quite so," assented Mr. Twombley. "Gave a good bit to the +hunt, though he never hunted. Pretty decent of him, you know. You hunt, +of course?" + +"I haven't done much of it lately, but I shall certainly do so in +future." + +"Your cousin," interrupted the vicar, "was a man of deep religious +convictions. His long stay in heathen lands had only strengthened his +devotion to the true faith. His pew was never empty and he subscribed +liberally to many charities." + +By Jove, thought poor Cyril, his cousin had evidently been a paragon. It +seemed incredible. + +"I see it will be difficult to fill his place," he said aloud. "But I +will do my best." + +Twombley clapped him heartily on the back. "Oh, you'll do all right, my +boy, and then, you know, you'll open the castle. The place has been like +a prison since Wilmersley's marriage." + +"No one regretted that as much as Lord Wilmersley," said the vicar. "He +often spoke to me about it. But he had the choice between placing Lady +Wilmersley in an institution or turning the castle into an asylum. He +chose the latter alternative, although it was a great sacrifice. I have +rarely known so agreeable a man or one so suited to shine in any +company. It was unpardonable of Lady Upton to have allowed him to marry +without warning him of her granddaughter's condition. But he never had a +word of blame for her." + +"It was certainly a pity he did not have Lady Wilmersley put under +proper restraint. If he had only done so, he would be alive now," said +the coroner. + +"So you believe that she murdered his lordship?" + +"Undoubtedly. Who else could have done it? Who else had a motive for +doing it. My theory is that her ladyship wanted to escape, that his +lordship tried to prevent her, and so she shot him. Don't you agree with +me, Mr. Judson?" + +"It is impossible for me to express an opinion at present. I have not +had time to collect enough data," replied the detective pompously. + +"He puts on such a lot of side, I believe he's an ass," thought Cyril, +heaving a sigh of relief. "But what about the missing jewels?" he said +aloud. "Their disappearance certainly provides a motive for the crime?" + +"Yes, but only Lord and Lady Wilmersley knew the combination of the +safe." + +"Who says so?" + +"All the servants are agreed as to that. Besides, a burglar would hardly +have overlooked the drawers of Lord Wilmersley's desk, which contained +about L300 in notes." + +"The thief may not have got as far as the library. Lady Wilmersley +occupied the blue room, I suppose." + +"Not at all. At the time of his marriage Lord Wilmersley ordered a suite +of rooms on the ground floor prepared for his bride's reception," +replied the vicar. + +"And this swimming-bath? Where is that? There was none when I was here +as a child." + +"No, it was built for Lady Wilmersley and adjoins her private +apartments," said the vicar. + +"But all these rooms are on the ground floor. It must be an easy matter +to enter them. Consequently----" + +"Easy!" interrupted Twombley; "not a bit of it! But come and see for +yourself." + +Crossing the hall they paused at a door. "Now this door and that one +next to it, which is the door of Lady Wilmersley's bedroom," said the +coroner, "are the only ones in this wing which communicate with the rest +of the castle, and both were usually kept locked, not only at night, but +during the daytime. You will please notice, my lord," continued the +coroner, as they entered the library, "that both doors are fitted with +an ingenious device, by means of which they can be bolted and unbolted +from several seats in this room and from the divans in the +swimming-bath. Only in the early morning were the housemaids admitted to +these rooms; after that no one but Mustapha, Lord Wilmersley's Turkish +valet, ever crossed the threshold, unless with his lordship's express +permission." + +Twombley hurried him through the library. + +"You can look this room over later; I want you first to see the +swimming-bath." + +Cyril found himself in an immense and lofty hall, constructed entirely +of white marble and lighted by innumerable jewelled lamps, whose +multi-coloured lights were reflected in the transparent waters of a +pool, from the middle of which rose and splashed a fountain. Divans +covered with soft cushions and several small tables laden with pipes, +_houkahs_, cigarettes, etc., were placed at intervals around the sides +of the bath. On one of the tables, Cyril noticed that two coffee-cups +were still standing and by the side of a divan lay a long Turkish pipe. +The floor was strewn with rare skins. A profusion of tropical plants +imparted a heavy perfume to the air, which was warm and moist. Cyril +blinked his eyes; he felt as if he had suddenly been transported to the +palace of Aladdin. + +"Rum place, what?" said Twombley, looking about him with evident +disfavour. "To be shut in here for three years would be enough to drive +any one crazy, I say." + +"You will notice," said the coroner, "that the only entrance to the bath +is through the library or her ladyship's bedroom. No one could have let +himself down through the skylight, as it is protected by iron bars." + +"I see." + +"It was here and in the library that Lord Wilmersley spent his time, and +it was here in the right-hand corner of the bath that his body was +discovered this morning by one of the housemaids. The spot, as you see, +is exactly opposite her ladyship's door and that door was found open, +just as it stands at present. Now the housemaids swear that they always +found it closed and it is their belief that his lordship used to lock +her ladyship in her rooms before retiring to his own quarters for the +night. At all events they were never allowed to see her ladyship or +enter her apartments unless his lordship or her ladyship's maid was also +present." + +"At about what time is Lord Wilmersley supposed to have been killed?" +asked Cyril after a slight pause. + +"Judging from the condition of the body, the doctor thinks that the +murder was committed between eleven and twelve P.M.," replied the +coroner; "and whoever fired the shot must have stood five or six feet +from Lord Wilmersley; in all probability, therefore, in the doorway of +the bedroom. This is the room. Nothing has been touched, and you see +that neither here nor in the swimming-bath are there signs of a +struggle." + +"The door leading into the hall was found locked?" + +"Yes, my lord." + +"Then how did the house-man enter?" + +"By means of a pass-key." + +"Where does that other door lead to?" asked Cyril, pointing to a door to +his left. + +"Into the sitting-room," replied the coroner, throwing it open. "It was +here, I am told, that Lady Wilmersley usually spent the morning." + +It was a large, pleasant room panelled in white. A few faded pastels of +by-gone beauties ornamented the walls. A gilt cage in which slumbered a +canary hung in one of the windows. Cyril looked eagerly about him for +some traces of its late occupant's personality; but except for a piece +of unfinished needlework, lying on a small table near the fireplace, +there was nothing to betray the owner's taste or occupations. + +"And there is no way out of this room except through the bedroom?" + +"None." + +"No secret door?" + +"No, my lord. Mr. Judson thought of that and has tapped the walls." + +"But the windows?" + +"These windows as well as those in the bedroom are fitted with heavy +iron bars. Look," he said. + +"Who was the last person known to have seen Lord Wilmersley alive?" + +"Mustapha. He carried coffee into the swimming-bath at a quarter past +nine, as was his daily custom." + +"And he noticed nothing unusual?" + +"Nothing. And he swears that in passing out through the library he heard +the bolt click behind him." + +"What sort of a person is Mustapha?" + +"Lord Wilmersley brought him back with him when he returned from the +East. He had the greatest confidence in him," said the vicar. + +"Do you know what his fellow-servants think of him," inquired Cyril, +addressing the coroner. + +"He kept very much to himself. I fancy he is not a favourite, but no one +has actually said anything against him." + +"Insular prejudice!" cried the vicar. "How few of us are able to +overcome our inborn British suspicion of the foreigner!" + +"Now will you examine the library?" asked the coroner. "See, here is his +lordship's desk. There are the drawers in which the L300 were found, and +yet any one could have picked that lock." + +"Where does that door lead to?" + +"Into Lord Wilmersley's bedroom, the window of which is also provided +with iron bars." + +"And that room has no exit but this?" + +"None, my lord. If the murderer came from outside, he must have got in +through one of these windows, which are the only ones in this wing which +have no protection, and this one was found ajar--but it may have been +used only as an exit, not as an entrance." + +Cyril looked out. Even a woman would have no difficulty in jumping to +the ground. + +"But it couldn't have been a burglar," said the vicar, "for what object +could a thief have for destroying a portrait?" + +"Destroying what portrait?" inquired Cyril. + +"Oh, didn't you know that her ladyship's portrait was found cut into +shreds?" said the coroner. + +"And a pair of Lady Wilmersley's scissors lay on the floor in front of +it," added the vicar. + +"Let me see it," cried Cyril. + +Going to a corner of the room the vicar pulled aside a velvet curtain +behind which hung the wreck of a picture. The canvas was slashed from +top to bottom. No trace of the face was left; only a small piece of fair +hair was still distinguishable. + +Cyril grasped Twombley's arm. Fair! And his mysterious _protegee_ was +dark! + +"What--what was the colour of Lady Wilmersley's hair?" He almost +stuttered with excitement. + +"A very pale yellow," replied the coroner. + +"Why do you ask?" inquired the detective. + +For the convenience of my readers I give a diagram of Lord and Lady +Wilmersley's apartments. + +[Illustration: + X. Spot where Lord Wilmersley's body was found. + 1. Doors locked and barred. + 2. Windows all barred. + 3. Window without bars found open. + 4. Library table. + 5. Lady Wilmersley's portrait. + 6. Doors leading to swimming-pool. + 7. Doors leading from hall. + 8. Divans.] + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE DETECTIVE DETECTS + + +"A very pale yellow!" Cyril was dumb-founded. + +Every fact, every inference had seemed to prove beyond the shadow of a +doubt that his _protegee_ and Lady Wilmersley were one and the same +person. Was it possible that she could have worn a wig? No, for he +remembered that in lifting her veil, he had inadvertently pulled her +hair a little and had admired the way it grew on her temples. + +"Why does the colour of her ladyship's hair interest you, my lord?" +again inquired the detective. + +Cyril blushed with confusion as he realised that all three men were +watching him with evident astonishment. What a fool he was not to have +been able to conceal his surprise! What answer could he give them? +However, as it was not his cousin's murderess he was hiding, he felt he +had nothing to fear from the detective, so ignoring him he turned to Mr. +Twombley and said with a forced laugh: + +"I must be losing my mind, for I distinctly remember hearing a friend of +mine rave about Lady Wilmersley's dark beauty." Rather a fishy +explanation, thought poor Cyril; but really his powers of invention were +exhausted. Would it satisfy them? + +He glanced sharply at the detective. The latter was no longer looking at +him, but was contemplating his watch-chain with absorbed attention. + +"Hah, hah! Rather a joke, what?" laughed Twombley. "Never had seen her, +I suppose; no one ever did, you know, except out driving." + +"It was either a silly joke or my memory is in a bad shape," said Cyril. +"Luckily it is a matter of no consequence. What is of vital importance, +however," he continued, turning to the detective, "is that her ladyship +should be secured immediately. No one is safe while she is still at +large." + +"It is unfortunate," replied the detective, "that no photograph of her +ladyship can be found, but we have telegraphed her description all over +the country." + +"What is her description, by the way?" + +"Here it is, my lord," said Judson, handing Cyril a printed sheet. + +"Height, 5 feet 3; weight, about 9 stone 2; hair, very fair, inclined to +be wavy; nose, straight; mouth, small; eyes, blue; face, oval," read +Cyril. "Well, I suppose that will have to do, but of course that +description would fit half the women in England." + +"That's the trouble, my lord." + +"Mr. Twombley, when you said just now that no one knew her, did you mean +that literally?" + +"Nobody in the county did; I'm sure of that." + +"And you, Mr. James? Is it possible that even you never saw her?" + +"I have never spoken to her." + +"Then so far as you know, the only person outside the castle she could +communicate with was the doctor. What sort of a man is he?" + +"What doctor are you speaking of?" inquired the vicar. + +"Why, the doctor who had charge of her case, of course," replied Cyril +impatiently. + +"I never heard of her having a doctor." + +"Do you mean to say that Wilmersley kept her in confinement without +orders from a physician?" + +"No, I suppose not. Of course not. There must have been some one," +faltered the vicar a trifle abashed. + +"You never, however, inquired by what authority he kept his wife shut +up?" + +"I never insulted Lord Wilmersley by questioning the wisdom of his +conduct or the integrity of his motives, and I repeat that there was +undoubtedly some physician in attendance on Lady Wilmersley, only I do +not happen to know who he is." + +"Well, I must clear this matter up at once. Please ring the bell, +Judson." + +A minute later the butler appeared. + +"Who was her ladyship's physician?" demanded Cyril. + +"My lady never 'ad one; leastways not till yesterday." + +"Yesterday?" + +"Yes, my lord, yesterday afternoon two gentlemen drove up in a fly and +one of them says 'is name is Dr. Brown and that 'e was expected, and 'is +lordship said as how I was to show them in here, and so I did." + +"You think they came to see her ladyship?" + +"Yes, my lord, and at dinner her ladyship seemed very much upset. She +didn't eat a morsel, though 'is lordship urged 'er ever so." + +"But why should a doctor's visit upset her ladyship?" + +The butler pursed his lips and looked mysterious. "I can't say, my +lord." + +"Nonsense, you've some idea in your head. Out with it!" + +"Well, my lord, me and Charles, we thought as she was afraid they were +going to lock 'er up." + +Cyril started slightly. + +"Ah! If they had done so long ago!" exclaimed the vicar, clasping his +hands. + +"But, sir, her ladyship wasn't crazy! They all say so, but it isn't +true. Me and Charles 'ave watched 'er at table day in and day out and +we're willing to swear that she isn't any more crazy than--than me! +Please excuse the liberty, but I never thought 'er ladyship was treated +right, I never did." + +"Why, you told me yourself that his lordship was devoted to her." + +"So 'e was, my lord, so 'e was." The man shuffled uneasily. + +"If her ladyship is not insane, why do you think his lordship kept her a +prisoner here?" + +"Well, my lord, some people 'ave thought that it was jealousy as made +him do it." + +"That," exclaimed the vicar, "is a vile calumny, which I have done my +best to refute." + +"So jealousy was the motive generally ascribed to my cousin's treatment +of his wife?" + +"Not generally, far from it; but I regret to say that there are people +who professed to believe it." + +"Did her ladyship have a nurse?" asked Cyril, addressing the butler. + +"No, my lord, only a maid." + +"Mrs. Valdriguez is a very respectable person, my lord." + +"Mrs. What?" demanded Cyril. + +"Mrs. Valdriguez." + +"What a queer name." + +"Perhaps, my lord, I don't pronounce it just right. Mrs. Valdriguez is +Spanish." + +"Indeed!" + +"Yes, my lord, she was here first in the time of Lord Wilmersley's +mother, and 'is lordship brought 'er back again when he returned from +'is 'oneymoon. Lady Wilmersley never left these rooms without 'aving +either 'is lordship, Mustapha, or Valdriguez with 'er." + +"Very good, Douglas, you can go now." + +"A pretty state of things!" cried Cyril when the door closed behind the +butler. "Here in civilised England a poor young creature is kept in +confinement with a Spanish woman and a Turk to watch over her, and no +one thinks of demanding an investigation! It's monstrous!" + +"My boy, you're right. Never liked the man myself--confess it now--but I +didn't know anything against him. Pretty difficult to interfere, what? +Never occurred to me to do so." + +"I am deeply pained by your attitude to your unfortunate cousin, who +paid with his life for his devotion to an afflicted woman. I feel it my +duty to say that your suspicions are unworthy of you. I must go now; I +have some parochial duties to attend to." And with scant ceremony the +vicar stalked out of the room. + +"It's getting late, I see. Must be off too. Can't be late for +dinner--wife, you know. Why don't you come with me--gloomy +here--delighted to put you up. Do come," urged Twombley. + +"Thanks awfully, not to-night. I'm dead beat. It's awfully good of you +to suggest it, though." + +"Not at all; sorry you won't come. See you at the inquest," said +Twombley as he took his departure followed by the coroner. + +Cyril remained where they left him. He was too weary to move. Before him +on the desk lay his cousin's blotter. Its white surface still bore the +impress of the latter's thick, sprawling handwriting. That chair not so +many hours ago had held his unwieldy form. The murdered man's presence +seemed to permeate the room. Cyril shuddered involuntarily. The heavy, +perfume-laden air stifled him. What was that? He could hear nothing but +the tumultuous beating of his own heart. Yet he was sure, warned by some +mysterious instinct, that he was not alone. Behind him stood--something. +He longed to move, but terror riveted him to the spot. A vision of his +cousin's baleful eyes rose before him with horrible vividness. He could +feel their vindictive glare scorching him. Was he going mad? Was he a +coward? No, he must face the--thing--come what might. Throwing back his +head defiantly, he wheeled around--the detective was at his elbow! Cyril +gave a gasp of relief and wiped the tell-tale perspiration from his +forehead. He had completely forgotten the fellow. What a shocking state +his nerves were in! + +"Can you spare me a few minutes, my lord?" Whenever the detective spoke, +Cyril had the curious impression as of a voice issuing from a fog. So +grey, so effaced, so absolutely characterless was the man's exterior! +His voice, on the other hand, was excessively individual. There lurked +in it a suggestion of assertiveness, of aggressiveness even. Cyril was +conscious of a sudden dread of this strong, insistent personality, lying +as it were at ambush within that envelope of a body, that envelope which +he felt he could never penetrate, which gave no indication whether it +concealed a friend or enemy, a saint or villain. + +"I shall not detain you long," Judson added, as Cyril did not answer +immediately. + +"Come into the drawing-room," said Cyril, leading the way there. + +Thank God, he could breathe freely once more, thought Cyril, as he flung +himself into the comfortable depths of a chintz-covered sofa. How +delightfully wholesome and commonplace was this room! The air, a trifle +chill, notwithstanding the coal fire burning on the hearth, was like +balm to his fevered senses. His very soul felt cleansed and refreshed. +He no longer understood the terror which had so lately possessed him. He +looked at Judson. How could he ever have dignified this remarkably +unremarkable little man with his pompous manner into a mysterious and +possibly hostile force. The thing was absurd. + +"Sit down, Judson," said Cyril carelessly. + +"My lord, am I not right in supposing that I am unknown to you? By +reputation, I mean." + +"Quite," Cyril candidly acknowledged. + +"Ah! I thought so. Let me tell you then, my lord, that I am the +receptacle of the secrets of most, if not all, of the aristocracy." + +"Indeed!" said Cyril. I'll take good care, he thought, that mine don't +swell the number. + +"That being the case, it is clear that my reputation for discretion is +unassailable. You see the force of that argument, my lord?" + +"Certainly," replied Cyril wearily. + +"Anything, therefore, which I may discover during the course of this +investigation, you may rest assured will be kept absolutely secret." He +paused a moment. "You can, therefore, confide in me without fear," +continued the detective. + +Cyril was surprised and a little startled. What did the man know? + +"What makes you think I have anything to confide?" he asked. + +"It is quite obvious, my lord, that you are holding something +back--something which would explain your attitude towards Lady +Wilmersley." + +"I don't follow you," replied Cyril, on his guard. + +"You have given every one to understand that you have never seen her +ladyship. You take up a stranger's cause very warmly, my lord." + +"I trust I shall always espouse the cause of every persecuted woman." + +"But how are you sure that she was persecuted? Every one praises his +lordship's devotion to her. He gave her everything she could wish for +except liberty. If she was insane, his conduct deserves great praise." + +"But I am sure she is not." + +"But you yourself urged me to secure her as soon as possible because you +were afraid she might do further harm," Judson reminded him. + +"That was before I heard Douglas's testimony. He has seen her daily for +three years and swears she is sane." + +"And the opinion of an ignorant servant is sufficient to make you +condemn his lordship without further proof?" + +Cyril moved uneasily. + +"If Lady Wilmersley is perfectly sane, it seems to me incredible that +she did not manage to escape years ago. A note dropped out of her +carriage would have brought the whole countryside to her rescue. Why, +she had only to appeal to this very same butler, who is convinced of her +sanity, and Lord Wilmersley could not have prevented her from leaving +the castle. Public opinion would have protected her." + +"That is true," acknowledged Cyril, "but her spirit may have been +broken." + +"What was there to break it? We hear only of his lordship's almost +excessive devotion. No, my lord, I can't help thinking that you are +judging both Lord and Lady Wilmersley by facts of which I am ignorant." + +Cyril did not know what to answer. He had at first championed Lady +Wilmersley because he had believed her to be his _protegee_, but now +that it had been proved that she was not, why was he still convinced +that she had in some way been a victim of her husband's cruelty? He had +to acknowledge that beyond a vague distrust of his cousin he had not +only no adequate reason, but no reason at all, for his suspicions. + +"You are mistaken," he said at last; "I am withholding nothing that +could in any way assist you to unravel this mystery. I confess I neither +liked nor trusted my cousin. I had no special reason. It was simply a +case of Dr. Fell. I know no more than you do of his treatment of her +ladyship. But doesn't the choice of a Turk and a Spaniard as attendants +on Lady Wilmersley seem to you open to criticism?" + +"Not necessarily, my lord. We trust most those we know best. Lord +Wilmersley had spent the greater part of his life with Turks and +Spaniards. It therefore seems to me quite natural that when it came to +selecting guardians for her ladyship, he should have chosen a man and a +woman he had presumably known for some years, whose worth he had proved, +whose fidelity he could rely on." + +"That sounds plausible," agreed Cyril; "still I can't help thinking it +very peculiar, to say the least, that Lady Wilmersley was not under a +doctor's care." + +"Her ladyship may have been too unbalanced to mingle with people, and +yet not in a condition to require medical attention. Such cases are not +uncommon." + +"True, and yet I have a feeling that Douglas was right, when he assured +us that her ladyship is not insane. You discredit his testimony on the +ground that he is an ignorant man. But if a man of sound common-sense +has the opportunity of observing a woman daily during three years, it +seems to me that his opinion cannot be lightly ignored. You never knew +my cousin. Well, I did, and as I said before, he was a man who inspired +me with the profoundest distrust, although I cannot cite one fact to +justify my aversion. I cannot believe that he ever sacrificed himself +for any one and am much more inclined to credit Douglas's suggestion +that it was jealousy which led him to keep her ladyship in such strict +seclusion. But why waste our time in idle conjectures when it is so easy +to find out the truth? Those two doctors who saw her yesterday must be +found. If they are men of good reputation, of course I shall accept +their report as final." + +"Very good, my lord, I will at once have an advertisement inserted in +all the papers asking them to communicate with us. If that does not +fetch them, I shall employ other means of tracing them." + +"Has Lady Upton, her ladyship's grandmother, been heard from?" + +"She wired this morning asking for further particulars. Mr. Twombley +answered her, I believe." + +A slight pause ensued during which Judson watched Cyril as if expecting +him to speak. + +"And you have still nothing to say to me, my lord?" The detective spoke +with evident disappointment. + +"No, what else should I have to say?" replied Cyril with some surprise. + +"That is, of course, for you to judge, my lord." His meaning was +unmistakable. Cyril flushed angrily. Was it possible that the man dared +to doubt his word? Dared to disbelieve his positive assertion that he +knew nothing whatsoever about the murder? The damnable--suddenly he +remembered! Remembered the lies he had been so glibly telling all day. +Why should any one believe him in future? His ignominy was probably +already stamped on his face. + +"I have nothing more to say," replied Cyril in a strangely meek voice. + +"That being the case, I'd better be off," said Judson, rising slowly +from his chair. + +"Where are you going now?" + +"I can't quite tell, my lord. It is my intention to vanish, so to +speak." + +"Vanish." + +"Yes, my lord. I work best in the dark; but you will hear from me as +soon as I have something definite to report." + +"I hope you will be successful," said Cyril. + +"Thank you; I've never failed so far in anything I have undertaken. I +must, however, warn you, my lord, that investigations sometimes lead to +conclusions which no one could have foreseen when they were started. I +always make a point of reminding my employers of this possibility." + +What the devil was the man driving at, thought Cyril; did he suspect him +by any chance? That would be really too absurd! The man was an ass. + +"I shall never quarrel with you for discovering the truth," said Cyril, +drawing himself up to his full height and glaring fiercely down at the +little grey man. Then, turning abruptly on his heel he stalked +indignantly out of the room, slamming the door behind him. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE MYSTERIOUS MAID + + +"My lord." + +Cyril shook himself reluctantly awake. + +"Sorry to disturb you, but this 'as just come," said Peter, holding out +a tray on which lay an opened telegram. His expression was so tragic +that Cyril started up and seized the message. + +It was addressed to Peter Thompkins, Geralton Castle, Newhaven, and +read: "Change for the better. Your presence necessary." Signed, +"Stuart-Smith." + +"Why, that is good news!" cried Cyril greatly relieved. "What are you +pulling such a long face for?" + +"You call it good news that you haven't got rid of that young woman +yet?" exclaimed Peter. "This Stuart-Smith, whoever he may be, who is +wiring you to come to 'er, thinks she's your wife, doesn't he? That was +bad enough when you were just Mr. Crichton, but now it's just hawful. A +Lady Wilmersley can't be hid as a Mrs. Crichton could, begging your +pardon. Oh, it'll all come out, so it will, and you'll be 'ad up for +bigamy, like as not!" Peter almost groaned. + +"Nonsense! As soon as the young lady recovers, she will join her friends +and no one will be any the wiser." + +Peter shook his head incredulously. + +"Well, my lord, let's 'ope so! But what answer am I to send to this +telegram? You can't leave the castle now." + +"It would certainly be inconvenient," agreed his master. + +"If you did, you'd be followed, my lord." + +"What do you mean? The police can't be such fools as all that." + +"'Tisn't the police, my lord. It's those men from the newspapers. The +castle is full of them; they're nosing about heverywhere; there's not +one of us as hasn't been pestered with the fellows. It's what you are +like, what are you doing, what 'ave you done, and a lot more foolish +questions hever since we set foot here yesterday afternoon. And 'we'll +pay you well,' they say. Of course, I've not opened my mouth to them, +but they're that persistent, they'll follow you to the end of the earth +if you should leave the castle unexpectedly." + +This was a complication that had not occurred to Cyril, and yet he felt +he ought to have foreseen it. What was to be done? He couldn't abandon +the girl. Suddenly Stuart-Smith's stern face and uncompromising upper +lip rose vividly before him. Even if he wished to do so, the doctor +would never allow him to ignore his supposed wife. If he did not answer +his summons in person, Smith would certainly put the worst +interpretation on his absence. He would argue that only a brute would +neglect a wife who was lying seriously ill and the fact that the girl +had been flogged could also be remembered against him. Dr. Smith was +capable of taking drastic measures to force him into performing what he +considered the latter's obvious duty. + +Cyril did not know what to do. He had only a choice of evils. If he +went, he would surely be followed and the girl's existence and +hiding-place discovered. That would be fatal not only to him but to her, +for she had feared detection above all things--why, he could not even +surmise--he no longer even cared; but he had promised to protect her and +meant to do so. + +On the other hand, if he did not go, he ran the risk of the doctor's +publishing the girl's whereabouts. Still, it was by no means certain he +would do so, and if he wrote Smith a diplomatic letter, he might succeed +in persuading him that it was best for the girl if he stayed away a day +longer. Yes, that was the thing to do. Hastily throwing on a +dressing-gown, he sat down at the desk. It was a difficult letter to +write and he destroyed many sheets before he was finally satisfied. This +was the result of his efforts: + + "DEAR DR. STUART-SMITH: + + "I am infinitely relieved that your patient is better. As you + addressed your wire here, I gather that you know of the tragic + occurrence, which has kept me from her side. It is impossible + for me to leave before the funeral without explaining my + mission, and this I am very loath to do, as I am more than ever + anxious to keep her malady a secret. Dr. Monet has always + believed in the possibility of a cure, and as long as there is + a chance of that, I am sure you will agree with me that I ought + to make every sacrifice to protect her from gossip. If she did + recover and her illness became known, it would greatly handicap + her in her new life. Having to stay away from her would be even + more distressing to me than it is if I could flatter myself + that my presence would have a good effect upon her. I am sure, + however, that such would not be the case. + + "I shall return to London late to-morrow afternoon and will + telephone you immediately on my arrival. + + "I am sending this by a trustworthy servant, who will bring me + your answer. I am most anxious to hear what you think of your + patient's condition, mentally as well as physically. I am sure + she could not be in better hands." + +Then Cyril hesitated. What should he sign himself? Thompkins? No, he +wished to inspire confidence; his own name would be better. So with a +firm hand he wrote "Wilmersley." + +It was the first time he had used his new signature and he heartily +wished it had not been appended to such a document. + +"Now, Peter," he said, "you must take the next train to London and carry +this to Dr. Stuart-Smith. If he is not at the nursing home, telephone to +his house and find out where he is. The letter must be delivered as soon +as possible and you are to wait for a reply. If the doctor asks you any +questions, answer as briefly as possible. In order to avoid comment you +had better let it be known that you are going up to town to do some +shopping for me. Buy something--anything. I want you also to call at the +lodgings and tell them we shall return to-morrow. If you are followed, +which I can't believe you will be, this will allay suspicion. Take a +taxi and get back as soon as possible. Don't drive directly to the Home. +You may mention to the doctor that I am extremely anxious about Mrs. +Thompkins." + +"Very good, my lord." + +"Throw the sheets I have scribbled on into the fire and the blotting +paper as well," ordered Cyril. + +He felt rather proud of having thought of this detail, but with +detectives and pressmen prowling around he must run no risks. It was +with a very perturbed mind that Cyril finally went down to breakfast. + +"Mrs. Eversley would like to speak to you, my lord, as soon as +convenient," said Douglas as his master rose from the table. Cyril +fancied he detected a gleam of suppressed excitement in the butler's +eye. + +"I'll see her at once," Cyril answered. + +A stout, respectable-looking woman hesitated in the doorway. + +"Come in, Mrs. Eversley," cried Cyril. "I'm glad to see you again. I've +never forgotten you or your doughnuts." + +The troubled face broke into a pleased smile as the woman dropped a +courtesy. + +"It's very kind of you to remember them, my lord, very kind indeed, and +glad I am to see you again." The smile vanished. "This is a terrible +business, my lord." + +"Terrible," assented Cyril. + +"His poor lordship! Mrs. Valdriguez has said for months and months that +something like this was sure to happen some day." + +"Do you mean to say that she prophesied that her ladyship would kill his +lordship?" exclaimed Cyril. + +"Yes, my lord, indeed she did! It made me feel that queer when it really +'appened." + +"I should think so. It's most extraordinary." + +"But begging your pardon, my lord, there is something special as made me +ask to speak to you--something I thought you ought to know immediately." + +"What is it?" Cyril had felt that some new trouble was brewing. + +"One of the servants has disappeared, my lord." + +"Disappeared? How? When?" + +"Perhaps I'm making too much of it, but this murder has that upset me +that I'm afraid of my own shadow and I says to myself, says I: 'Don't +wait; go and tell his lordship at once and he'll know whether it is +important or not.'" + +"You did perfectly right. But who has disappeared?" + +"Priscilla Prentice and perhaps she hasn't disappeared at all. This is +how it is: The day before yesterday----" + +"The day of the murder?" asked Cyril. + +"Yes, my lord. Prentice came to me and asked if she could go to Newhaven +to see a cousin she has there. The cousin is ill--leastways so she told +me--and she wanted as a great favour to be allowed to spend the night +with her, and she promised to come back by the carrier early next +morning. It seemed all right, so I gave her permission and off she goes. +Then yesterday this dreadful thing happened and Prentice went clean out +of my head. I never thought of her again till breakfast this morning +when Mr. Douglas says to me: 'Why, wherever is Miss Prentice?' You could +'ave knocked me down with a feather, I was that taken aback! So I says, +'Whatever can 'ave happened to her?'" + +"When she heard of the murder, she may have taken fright. She may be +waiting to return to the castle till the inquest and funeral are over," +suggested Cyril. + +"Then she ought at least to have sent word. Besides she should have got +back before she could have heard of the murder." + +"You had better send to the cousin's and find out if she is there. She +may have been taken ill and had nobody to send a message by." + +"We none of us know whereabouts this cousin lives, my lord." + +"Newhaven is not a large place. It can't be difficult to find her." + +"But we don't know her name, my lord." + +"That certainly complicates matters. How long has this girl been at the +castle?" + +"Six months, my lord." + +"Who did you get her from?" + +"I advertised for her, my lord. Mrs. Valdriguez's eyes are not what they +were and so she 'ad to have somebody to do the mending. I must say +foreigners sew beautifully, so it was some time before I could get any +one whose work suited Mrs. Valdriguez." + +"What references did the girl give?" + +"It was this way, my lord. She's very young, and this is her first +place. But she was excellently recommended by Mr. Vaughan, vicar of +Plumtree, who wrote that she was a most respectable girl and that he +could vouch for her character. Those are his very words, my lord." + +"That certainly sounded satisfactory." + +"I'm glad you think so, my lord. So she came. Such a nice young woman +she seemed, so 'ard-working and conscientious; one who kept 'erself to +'erself; never a word with the men--never, though she is so pretty." + +"Oh, she is pretty, is she?" A faint but horrible suspicion flashed +through Cyril's mind. + +"Yes, my lord, as pretty as a picture." + +"What does she look like?" + +"She is tall and slight with dark hair and blue eyes," Mrs. Eversley +answered. She was evidently taken aback at her master's interest in a +servant's appearance and a certain reserve crept into her voice. + +"Could she--would it be possible to mistake her for a lady?" stammered +Cyril. + +Mrs. Eversley started. + +"Well, my lord, it's strange you should ask that, for Douglas, he always +has said, 'Mark my words, Miss Prentice isn't what she seems,' and I +must say she is very superior, very." + +It wasn't, it couldn't be possible, thought Cyril; and yet---- + +"Did she see much of her ladyship?" he asked. + +"Lately, Mrs. Valdriguez, seeing as what she was such a quiet girl, has +allowed her to put the things she has mended back into her ladyship's +room, and I know her ladyship has spoken to her, but how often she has +done so I couldn't really say. Prentice didn't talk much." + +"Did she seem much interested in her ladyship?" + +"At first very much so. If we were talking about her ladyship, she would +always stay and listen. Once, when one of the housemaids 'ad said +something about her being crazy, I think, Prentice got quite excited, +and when Mrs. Valdriguez had left the room, she said to me, 'I don't +believe there is anything the matter with her ladyship; I think it just +cruel the way she is kept locked up!' Begging your pardon, my lord, +those were her very words. She made me promise not to repeat what she +had said--least of all to Mrs. Valdriguez, and I never have, not till +this minute." + +"Did she ever suggest that she would like to help her ladyship to +escape?" + +"Why, my lord!" exclaimed Mrs. Eversley, staring at her master in +astonishment. "That's just what she did do, just once--oh, you don't +think she did it! And yet that's what they're all saying----" + +"Is anything missing from her room?" he asked. + +"I can't say, my lord; her trunk is locked and she took a small bag with +her. But there are things in the drawers and a skirt and a pair of shoes +in the wardrobe." + +"From the appearance of the room, therefore, you should judge that she +intended to return?" + +"Ye-es, my lord--and yet I must say, I was surprised to see so few +things about, and the skirt and shoes were very shabby." + +"I suppose that by this time every one knows the girl is missing?" Cyril +asked. + +"The upper servants do, and the detective was after me to tell him all +about her, but I wouldn't say a word till I had asked what your +lordship's wishes are." + +"I thought Judson had left the castle?" + +"So he has, my lord; this is the man from Scotland Yard. Griggs is his +name. He was 'ere before Judson, but he had left the castle before you +arrived." + +Impossible even to attempt, to keep her disappearance a secret, thought +Cyril. After all, perhaps she was not his _protegee_. He was always +jumping at erroneous conclusions, and a description is so misleading. On +the other hand, the combination of black hair and blue eyes was a most +unusual one. Besides, it was already sufficiently remarkable that two +young and beautiful women had fled from Newhaven on the same day (beauty +being alas such a rarity!), but that three should have done so was +well-nigh incredible. But could even the most superior of upper servants +possess that air of breeding which was one of the girl's most noticeable +attributes. It was, of course, within the bounds of possibility that +this maid was well-born and simply forced by poverty into a menial +position. One thing was certain--if his _protegee_ was Priscilla +Prentice, then this girl, in spite of her humble occupation, was a lady, +and consequently more than ever in need of his protection and respect. + +Well, assuming that it was Prentice he had rescued, what part had she +played in the tragedy? Why had she feared arrest? She must have been +present at the murder, but even in that case, why did she not realise +that Lady Wilmersley's unbalanced condition would prevent suspicion from +falling on any one else? The police had never even thought of her! And +where had she hidden her mistress? It was all most mysterious. + +Cyril sat weighing the _pros and cons_ of one theory after another, +completely oblivious of his housekeeper's presence. + +Douglas, entering, discreetly interrupted his cogitations: + +"The inquest is about to begin, my lord." + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE INQUEST + + +On entering the hall Cyril found that a seat on the right hand of the +coroner had been reserved for him, but he chose a secluded corner from +which he could watch the proceedings unobserved. + +On the left of Mr. Tinker sat a tall, imposing-looking man, who, on +inquiry, proved to be Inspector Griggs. + +The first part of the inquest developed nothing new. It was only when +Mustapha stepped forward that Cyril's interest revived and he forgot the +problem of his _protegee's_ identity. + +The Turk, with the exception of a red fez, was dressed as a European, +but his swarthy skin, large, beak-like nose, and deep, sombre eyes, in +which brooded the mystery of the East, proclaimed his nationality. + +Cyril tried in vain to form some estimate of the man's character, to +probe the depths of those fathomless eyes, but ignorant as he was of the +Oriental, he found it impossible to differentiate between Mustapha's +racial and individual characteristics. That he was full of infinite +possibilities was evident--even his calmness was suggestive of potential +passion. A man to be watched, decided Cyril. + +Mustapha gave his testimony in a low, clear voice, and although he spoke +with a strong foreign accent, his English was purer than that of his +fellow servants. + +That he had nothing to do with the murder seemed from the first +conclusively proved. Several of the servants had seen him enter his +room, which adjoined that of the butler, at about half-past nine--that +is to say, an hour and a half before Lord Wilmersley's death could, in +the doctor's opinion, have taken place--and Douglas on cross--reiterated +his conviction that Mustapha could not have left his room without his +having heard him do so, as he, Douglas, was a very light sleeper. + +In answer to questions from the coroner, Mustapha told how he had +entered the late Lord Wilmersley's service some fifteen years +previously, at which time his master owned a house on the outskirts of +Constantinople. As he dressed as a Mussulman and consorted entirely with +the natives, Mustapha did not know that he was a foreigner till his +master informed him of the fact just before leaving Turkey. + +When questioned as to Lady Wilmersley, he was rather non-committal. No, +he had never believed her to be dangerous.--Had she seemed happy? No, +she cried often.--Did his lordship ever ill-treat her? Not that he knew +of. His lordship was very patient with her tears.--Did he know how she +could have obtained a pistol? Yes, there was one concealed on his +master's desk. He had discovered that it was missing.--How could a +pistol lie concealed _on_ a desk? It was hidden inside an ancient steel +gauntlet, ostensibly used as a paperweight. Mustapha had found it one +day quite accidentally.--Did he tell his lordship of his discovery? No. +His master was always afraid of being spied upon.--Why? He did not +know.--Did Mustapha know of any enemy of his lordship who was likely to +have sought such a revenge? No. His master's enemies were not in +England.--Then his lordship had enemies? As all men have, so had +he.--But he had no special enemy? An enemy is an enemy, but his master's +enemies were not near.--How could he be so sure of that? He would have +had word.--How? From whom? From his, Mustapha's friends.--Did his +lordship fear his enemies would follow him to England? At first, +perhaps, but not lately.--If his lordship's enemies had found him, would +they have been likely to kill him? Who can tell? The heart of man is +very evil.--But he knew no one who could have done this thing? No +one.--Did he believe his mistress had done it? Mustapha hesitated for +the first time. "They say so," he finally answered. + +"But you, what do you think?" insisted the coroner. + +"The ways of women are dark." + +"Do you believe her ladyship killed your master--Yes or No?" repeated +the coroner impatiently. + +"It is not for me to say," replied Mustapha with unruffled dignity. + +The coroner, feeling himself rebuked, dismissed the man with a hurried +"That will do." + +Mrs. Valdriguez was next called. + +She was a tall, thin woman between fifty and sixty. Her black hair, +freely sprinkled with silver, was drawn into a tight knot at the back of +her small head. Her pale, haggard face, with its finely-chiselled nose, +thin-lipped mouth, and slightly-retreating chin, was almost beautified +by her large, sunken eyes, which still glowed with extraordinary +brilliancy. Her black dress was austere in its simplicity and she wore +no ornament except a small gold cross suspended on her bosom. + +The woman was obviously nervous. She held her hands tightly clasped in +front of her, and her lips twitched from time to time. She spoke so low +that Cyril had to lean forward to catch her answers, but her English was +perfectly fluent. It was chiefly her accent and intonation which +betrayed her foreign birth. + +"You lived here in the time of the late Lady Wilmersley, did you not?" +began the coroner. + +"Yes, sir." + +"In what capacity?" + +"As lady's maid, sir." + +"When did you leave here, and why?" + +"I left when her ladyship died." + +"Did you return to Spain?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"How did you happen to enter the present Lady Wilmersley's service?" + +"Lord Wilmersley sent for me when he was on his wedding journey." + +"Had you seen him after you left Geralton?" + +"From time to time." + +"Do you know whether his lordship had any enemies?" + +"Not of late years." + +"Then you did know some. Who were they?" + +"Those that he had are either dead or have forgiven," Valdriguez +answered, and as she did so, she fingered the cross on her breast. + +"So that you can think of no one likely to have resorted to such a +terrible revenge?" + +"No one, sir." + +"On the night of the murder you did not assist her ladyship to undress, +so I understand?" + +"I never did. From the time her ladyship left her room to go to dinner I +never saw her again till the following morning." + +"And you noticed nothing unusual that evening?" + +"I can't say that. Her ladyship was very much excited. She cried and +begged me to help her to escape." + +A murmur of excitement ran through the hall. + +"What did you say to her?" + +"I told her that she was his lordship's lawful wife; that she had vowed +before God to honour and obey him in all things." + +"Had she ever made an attempt to escape?" + +"No, sir." + +"Did she ever give you any reason for wishing to do so?" + +"She told me that his lordship threatened to shut her up in a lunatic +asylum, but I assured her he would never do so. He loved her too much." + +"You consider that he was very devoted to her?" + +The woman closed her eyes for a second. + +"He loved her as I have never before known a man love a woman," she +answered, with suppressed vehemence. + +"Why then did he send for the doctors to commit her to an institution?" + +"I do not know." + +At this point of the interrogation Cyril scribbled a few words, which he +gave to one of the footmen to carry to the coroner. When the latter had +read them, he asked: + +"Did you consider her ladyship a dangerous lunatic?" + +"No, sir." + +"Why, then, did you prophesy that she would kill your master?" + +The woman trembled slightly and her hand again sought the cross. + +"I--I believed Lord Wilmersley's time had come, but I knew not how he +would die. I did not know that she would be the instrument--only I +feared it." + +"Why did you think his lordship's days were numbered?" + +"Sir, if I were to tell you my reasons, you would say that they were not +reasons. You would call them superstitions and me a foolish old woman. I +believe what I believe, and you, what you have been taught. God shall +judge. Suffice it, sir, that my reasons for believing that his lordship +would die soon are not such as would appeal to your common-sense." + +"H'm, well--I confess that signs and omens are not much in my line, but +I must really insist upon your giving some explanation as to why you +feared that your mistress would murder Lord Wilmersley." + +The woman's lips twitched convulsively and her eyes glowed with sombre +fire. + +"Because--if you will know it--he loved her more than was natural--he +loved her more than his God; and the Lord God is a jealous God." + +"And this is really your only reason for your extraordinary +supposition?" + +"For me it is enough," she replied. + +"Well, well--very curious indeed!" said the coroner, regarding the woman +intently. + +He paused for a moment. + +"How did you pass the evening of the murder?" he asked. + +"In my room. I had a headache and went early to bed." + +"I suppose somebody saw you after you left Lady Wilmersley's room who +can support your statement?" + +"I do not know. I do not remember seeing any one," answered Valdriguez, +throwing her head back and looking a little defiantly at Mr. Tinker. + +"Ah, really? That is a pity," said the coroner. "However, there is no +reason to doubt your word--as yet," he added. + +Mrs. Eversley was next called. The coroner questioned her exhaustively +as to the missing Priscilla Prentice. He seemed especially anxious to +know whether the girl had owned a bicycle. She had not.--Did she know +how to ride one? Yes, Mrs. Eversley had seen her try one belonging to +the under-housemaid.--Did many of the servants own bicycles? Yes.--Had +one of them been taken? She did not know. + +On further inquiry, however, it was found that all the machines were +accounted for. + +It had not occurred to Cyril to speculate as to how, if Prentice had +really aided her mistress to escape, she had been able to cover the nine +miles which separated the castle from Newhaven. Eighteen miles in one +evening on foot! Not perhaps an impossible feat, but very nearly so, +especially as on her way back she would have been handicapped by Lady +Wilmersley, a delicate woman, quite unaccustomed--at all events during +the last three years--to any form of exercise. + +It was evident, however, that this difficulty had not escaped the +coroner, for all the servants and more especially the gardeners +and under-gardeners were asked if they had seen in any of the +less-frequented paths traces of a carriage or bicycle. But no one had +seen or heard anything suspicious. + +The head gardener and his wife, who lived at the Lodge, swore that the +tall, iron gates had been locked at half-past nine, and that they had +heard no vehicle pass on the highroad during the night. + +At this point in the proceedings whispering was audible in the back of +the hall. The coroner paused to see what was the matter. A moment later +Douglas stepped up to him and said something in a low voice. The coroner +nodded. + +"Mrs. Willis," he called. + +A middle-aged woman, very red in the face, came reluctantly forward. + +"Well, Mrs. Willis, I hear you have something to tell me?" + +"Indeed no, sir," exclaimed the woman, picking nervously at her gloves. +"It is nothing at all. Only when I 'eard you asking about carriages in +the night, I says to Mrs. Jones--well, one passed, I know that. +Leastways, it didn't exactly pass; it stayed." + +"The carriage stayed; where?" + +"It wasn't a carriage." + +"It wasn't a carriage and it stayed? Can't you explain yourself more +clearly, Mrs. Willis? This isn't a conundrum, is it?" + +"It was a car, a motor-car," stammered the woman. + +"A car! And it stopped? Where?" + +"I couldn't say exactly, but not far from our cottage." + +"And where is your cottage?" + +"On the 'ighroad near the long lane." + +"I see." The coroner was obviously excited. "Your husband is one of the +gardeners here, isn't he?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"So there is doubtless a path connecting your cottage with the castle +grounds?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"About how far from your cottage was the car?" + +"I didn't see it, sir; I just 'eard it; but it wasn't far, that I know," +reiterated the woman. + +"Did you hear any one pass through your garden?" + +"No, sir." + +"Could they have done so without your hearing them?" + +"They might." + +"Was the car going to or coming from Newhaven?" + +"It was coming from Newhaven." + +"Then it must have stopped at the foot of the long lane." + +"Yes, sir; that's just about where I thought it was." + +"Is there a path connecting Long Lane with the highroad?" + +"Yes, a narrow one." + +"What time was it when you heard the car? Now try and be very accurate." + +"I wouldn't like to swear, sir, but I think it was between eleven and +twelve." + +"Did your husband hear it also?" + +"No, sir, 'e was fast asleep, but I wasn't feeling very well, so I had +got up thinking I'd make myself a cup of tea, and just then I 'eard a +car come whizzing along, and then there was a bang. Oh, says I, they've +burst their wheel, that's what they've done, me knowing about cars. I +know it takes a bit of mending, a wheel does, so I wasn't surprised when +I 'eard no more of them for a time--and I 'ad just about forgotten all +about them, so I had, when I 'ears them move off." + +"And they did not pass your cottage?" + +"No, sir, I'm sure of that." + +"Did you hear anything else?" + +"Well, sir"--the woman fidgeted uneasily, "I thought--but I shouldn't +like to swear to it--not on the Bible--but I fancied I 'eard a cry." + +"What sort of a cry? Was it a man or a woman's?" + +"I really couldn't say--and perhaps what I 'eard was not a cry at +all----" + +"Well, well--this is most important. A motor-car that is driven at +half-past eleven at night to the foot of a lane which leads nowhere but +to the castle grounds, and then returns in the direction it came +from--very extraordinary--very. We must look into this," exclaimed the +coroner. + +And with this the inquest was adjourned. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +LADY UPTON + + + Dr. Stuart-Smith to Mr. Peter Thompkins, Geralton Castle, + Newhaven. + + "DEAR LORD WILMERSLEY: + + "Lady Wilmersley showed signs of returning consciousness at + half-past five yesterday afternoon. I was at once sent for, but + when I arrived she had fallen asleep. She woke again at nine + o'clock and this time asked where she was. She spoke + indistinctly and did not seem to comprehend what the nurse said + to her. When I reached the patient, I found her sitting up in + bed. Her pulse was irregular; her temperature, subnormal. I am + glad to be able to assure you that Lady Wilmersley is at + present perfectly rational. She is, however, suffering from + hysterical amnesia complicated by aphasia, but I trust this is + only a temporary affection. At first she hesitated over the + simplest words, but before I left she could talk with tolerable + fluency. + + "I asked Lady Wilmersley whether she wished to see you. She has + not only forgotten that she has a husband but has no very clear + idea as to what a husband is. In fact, she appears to have + preserved no precise impression of anything. She did not even + remember her own name. When I told it to her, she said it + sounded familiar, only that she did not associate it with + herself. Of you personally she has no recollection, although I + described you as accurately as I could. However, as your name + is the only thing she even dimly recalls, I hope that when you + see her, you will be able to help her bridge the gulf which + separates her from the past. + + "She seemed distressed at her condition, so I told her that she + had been ill and that it was not uncommon for convalescents to + suffer temporarily from loss of memory. When I left her, she + was perfectly calm. + + "She slept well last night, and this morning she has no + difficulty in expressing herself, but I do not allow her to + talk much as she is still weak. + + "I quite understand the delicacy of your position and + sympathise with you most deeply. Although I am anxious to try + what effect your presence will have on Lady Wilmersley, the + experiment can be safely postponed till to-morrow afternoon. + + "I trust the inquest will clear up the mystery which surrounds + the late Lord Wilmersley's death. + + "Believe me, + "Sincerely yours, + "A. STUART-SMITH." + +Cyril stared at the letter aghast. If the girl herself had forgotten her +identity, how could he hope to find out the truth? He did not even dare +to instigate a secret inquiry--certainly not till the Geralton mystery +had been cleared up. And she believed herself to be his wife! It was too +awful! + +Cyril passed a sleepless night and the next morning found him still +undecided as to what course to pursue. It was, therefore, a pale face +and a preoccupied mien that he presented to the inspection of the +county, which had assembled in force to attend his cousin's funeral. +Never in the memory of man had such an exciting event taken place and +the great hall in which the catafalque had been erected was thronged +with men of all ages and conditions. + +In the state drawing-room Cyril stood and received the condolences and +faced the curiosity of the county magnates. + +The ordeal was almost over, when the door was again thrown open and the +butler announced, "Lady Upton." + +Leaning heavily on a gold-headed cane Lady Upton advanced majestically +into the room. + +A sudden hush succeeded her entrance; every eye was riveted upon her. +She seemed, however, superbly indifferent to the curiosity she aroused, +and one felt, somehow, that she was not only indifferent but +contemptuous. + +She was a tall woman, taller, although she stooped a little, than most +of the men present. Notwithstanding her great age, she gave the +impression of extraordinary vigour. Her face was long and narrow, with a +stern, hawk-like nose, a straight, uncompromising mouth, and a +protruding chin. Her scanty, white hair was drawn tightly back from her +high forehead; a deep furrow separated her bushy, grey eyebrows and gave +an added fierceness to her small, steel-coloured eyes. An antiquated +bonnet perched perilously on the back of her head; her dress was quite +obviously shabby; and yet no one could for a moment have mistaken her +for anything but a truly great lady. + +Disregarding Cyril's outstretched hand, she deliberately raised her +lorgnette and looked at him for a moment in silence. + +"Well! You are a Crichton at any rate," she said at last. Having given +vent to this ambiguous remark, she waved her glasses, as if to sweep +away the rest of the company, and continued: "I wish to speak to you +alone." + +Her voice was deep and harsh and she made no effort to lower it. + +"So this was Anita Wilmersley's grandmother. What an old tartar!" +thought Cyril. + +"It is almost time for the funeral to start," he said aloud and he tried +to convey by his manner that he, at any rate, had no intention of +allowing her to ride rough-shod over him. + +"I know," she snapped, "so hurry, please. These gentlemen will excuse +us." + +"Certainly." "Of course." "We will wait in the hall." Cyril heard them +murmur and, such was the force of the old lady's personality, that +youths and grey beards jostled each other in their anxiety to get out of +the room as quickly as possible. + +"Get me a chair," commanded Lady Upton. "No, not that one. I want to sit +down, not lie down." + +With her stick she indicated a high, straight-backed chair, which had +been relegated to a corner. + +Having seated herself, she took a pair of spectacles out of her reticule +and proceeded to wipe them in a most leisurely manner. + +Cyril fidgeted impatiently. + +Finally, her task completed to her own satisfaction, she adjusted her +glasses and crossed her hands over the top of her cane. + +"No news of my granddaughter, I suppose," she demanded. + +"None, I am sorry to say." + +"Anita is a fool, but I am certain--absolutely certain, mind you--that +she did not kill that precious husband of hers, though I don't doubt he +richly deserved it." + +"I am surprised that you of all people should speak of my cousin in that +tone," said Cyril and he looked at her meaningly. + +"Of course, you believe what every one believes, that I forced Ann into +that marriage. Stuff and nonsense! I merely pointed out to her that she +could not do better than take him. She had not a penny to her name and +after my death would have been left totally unprovided for. I have only +my dower, as you know." + +"But, how could you have allowed a girl whose mind was affected to +marry?" + +"Fiddlesticks! You don't believe that nonsense, do you? Newspaper +twaddle, that is all that amounts to." + +"I beg your pardon, Arthur himself gave out that her condition was such +that she was unable to see any one." + +"Impossible! He wrote to me quite frequently and never hinted at such a +thing." + +"Nevertheless I assure you that is the case." + +"Then he is a greater blackguard than I took him to be----" + +"But did you not know that he kept her practically a prisoner here?" + +"Certainly not!" + +"And she never complained to you of his treatment of her?" + +"I once got a hysterical letter from her begging me to let her come back +to me, but as the only reason she gave for wishing to leave her husband +was that he was personally distasteful to her, I wrote back that as she +had made her bed, she must lie on it." + +"And even after that appeal you never made an attempt to see Anita and +find out for yourself how Arthur was treating her?" + +"I am not accustomed to being cross-questioned, Lord Wilmersley. I am +accountable to no one but my God for what I have done or failed to do. I +never liked Anita. She takes after her father, whom my daughter married +without my consent. When she was left an orphan, I took charge of her +and did my duty by her; but I never pretended that I was not glad when +she married and, as she did so of her own free-will, I cannot see that +her future life was any concern of mine." + +Cyril could hardly restrain his indignation. This proud, hard, selfish +old woman had evidently never ceased to visit her resentment of her +daughter's marriage on the child of that marriage. He could easily +picture the loveless and miserable existence poor Anita must have led. +Was it surprising that she should have taken the first chance that was +offered her of escaping from her grandmother's thraldom? She had +probably been too ignorant to realise what sort of a man Arthur +Wilmersley really was and too innocent to know what she was pledging +herself to. + +"I have come here to-day," continued Lady Upton, "because I considered +it seemly that my granddaughter's only relative should put in an +appearance at the funeral and also because I wanted you to tell me +exactly what grounds the police have for suspecting Anita." + +Cyril related as succinctly as possible everything which had so far come +to light. He, however, carefully omitted to mention his meeting with the +girl on the train. As the latter could not be Anita Wilmersley, he felt +that he was not called upon to inform Lady Upton of this episode. + +"Well!" exclaimed Lady Upton, when he had finished. "All I can say is, +that Anita is quite incapable of firing a pistol at any one, even if it +were thrust into her hand. You may not believe me, but that is because +you don't know her. I do. She hasn't the spirit of a mouse. Unless +Arthur had frightened her out of her wits, she would never have screwed +up courage to leave him, and it would be just like her to crawl away in +the night instead of walking out of the front door like a sensible +person. Bah! I have no patience with such a spineless creature! You men, +however, consider it an engaging feminine attribute for a woman to have +neither character nor sense!" Lady Upton snorted contemptuously and +glared at Cyril as if she held him personally responsible for the bad +taste of his sex. + +As he made no answer to her tirade, she continued after a moment more +calmly. + +"It seems to me highly improbable that Anita has been murdered; so I +want you to engage a decent private detective who will work only for us. +We must find her before the police do so. I take it for granted that you +will help me in this matter and that you are anxious--although, +naturally, not as anxious as I am--to prevent your cousin's widow from +being arrested." + +"A woman who has been treated by her husband as Arthur seems to have +treated Anita, is entitled to every consideration that her husband's +family can offer her," replied Cyril. "I am already employing a +detective and if he finds Anita I will communicate with you at once." + +"Good! Now remember that my granddaughter is perfectly sane; on the +other hand, I think it advisable to keep this fact a secret for the +present. Circumstantial evidence is so strongly against her that we may +have to resort to the plea of insanity to save her neck. That girl has +been a thorn in my flesh since the day she was born; but she shall not +be hanged, if I can help it," said Lady Upton, shutting her mouth with +an audible click. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE JEWELS + + +As soon as the funeral was over, Cyril left Geralton. On arriving in +London he recognised several reporters at the station. Fearing that they +might follow him, he ordered his taxi to drive to the Carlton. There he +got out and walking quickly through the hotel, he made his exit by a +rear door. Having assured himself that he was not being observed, he +hailed another taxi and drove to the nursing home. + +"Well, Mr. Thompkins," exclaimed the doctor, with ponderous +facetiousness. "I am glad to be able to tell you that Mrs. Thompkins is +much better." + +"And her memory?" faltered Cyril. + +"It's improving. She does not yet remember people or incidents, but she +is beginning to recall certain places. For instance, I asked her +yesterday if she had been to Paris. It suggested nothing to her, but +this morning she told me with great pride that Paris was a city and that +it had a wide street with an arch at one end. So you see she is +progressing; only we must not hurry her." + +Cyril murmured a vague assent. + +"Of course," continued the doctor, "you must be very careful when you +see Lady Wilmersley to restrain your emotions, and on no account to +remind her of the immediate past. I hope and believe she will never +remember it. On the other hand, I wish you to talk about those of her +friends and relations for whom she has shown a predilection. Her memory +must be gently stimulated, but on no account excited. Quiet, quiet is +essential to her recovery." + +"But doctor--I must--it's frightfully important that my wife (he found +himself calling her so quite glibly) should be told of a certain fact at +once. If I wait even a day, it will be too late," urged Cyril. + +"And you have reason to suppose that this communication will agitate +Lady Wilmersley?" + +"I--I fear so." + +"Then I can certainly not permit it. You don't seem to realise the +delicate condition of her brain. Why, it might be fatal," insisted the +doctor. + +Cyril felt as if Nemesis were indeed overtaking him. + +"Come, we will go to her," said the doctor, moving towards the door. +"She is naturally a little nervous about seeing you, so we must not keep +her waiting." + +But Cyril hung back. If he could not undeceive the poor girl, how could +he enter her presence. To pose as the husband of a woman so as to enable +her to escape arrest was excusable, but to impose himself on the +credulity of an afflicted girl was absolutely revolting. If he treated +her with even the most decorous show of affection, he would be taking a +dastardly advantage of the situation. Yet if he behaved with too much +reserve, she would conclude that her husband was a heartless brute. Her +husband! The one person she had to cling to in the isolation to which +she had awakened. It was horrible! Oh, why had he ever placed her in +such an impossible position? Arrest would have been preferable. He was +sure that she could easily have proved her innocence of whatever it was +of which she was accused, and in a few days at the latest would have +gone free without a stain on her character, while now, unless by some +miracle this episode remained concealed, she was irredeemably +compromised. He was a married man; she, for aught he knew to the +contrary, might also be bound, or at all events have a fiance or lover +waiting to claim her. How would he view the situation? How would he +receive the explanation? Cyril shuddered involuntarily. Every minute the +chances that her secret could be kept decreased. If she did not return +to her friends while it was still possible to explain or account for the +time of her absence, he feared she would never be able to return at all. +Yes, it would take a miracle to save her now! + +"Well, Lord Wilmersley?" + +Cyril started. The doctor's tone was peremptory and his piercing eyes +were fixed searchingly upon him. What excuse could he give for refusing +to meet his supposed wife? He could think of none. + +"I must remind you, doctor," he faltered at last, "that my wife has +lately detested me. I--I really don't think I had better see her--I--I +am so afraid my presence will send her off her head again." + +The doctor's upper lip grew rigid and his eyes contracted angrily. + +"I have already assured you that she is perfectly sane. It is essential +to her recovery that she should see somebody connected with her past +life. I cannot understand your reluctance to meet Lady Wilmersley." + +"I--I am only thinking of the patient," Cyril murmured feebly. + +"The patient is my affair," snapped the doctor. + +What could he do? For an instant he was again tempted to tell +Stuart-Smith the truth. He looked anxiously at the man. No, it was +impossible. There was no loophole for escape. And after all, he +reflected, if he had an opportunity of watching the girl, she might +quite unconsciously by some act, word, or even by some subtle essence of +her personality furnish him with a clue to her past. Every occupation +leaves indelible marks, although it sometimes takes keen eyes to discern +them. If the girl had been a seamstress, Cyril believed that he would be +able by observing her closely to assure himself of the fact. + +"Very well," he said aloud. "If you are willing to assume the +responsibility, I will go to my wife at once. But I insist on your being +present at our meeting." + +"Certainly, if you wish it, but it is not at all necessary, I assure +you," replied the doctor. + +A moment later Cyril, blushing like a schoolgirl, found himself in a +large, white-washed room. Before him on a narrow, iron bedstead lay his +mysterious _protegee_. Cyril caught his breath. He had forgotten how +beautiful she was. Her red lips were slightly parted and the colour +ebbed and flowed in her transparent cheeks. Ignoring the doctor, her +eager glance sought Cyril and for a minute the two young people gazed at +each other in silence. How young, how innocent she looked! How could any +one doubt the candour of those star like eyes, thought Cyril. + +"Well, Mrs. Crichton," exclaimed Stuart-Smith, "I have brought you the +husband you have been so undutiful as to forget. 'Love, honour, and +obey, and above all remember,' I suggest as an amendment to the marriage +vow." + +"Nurse has been reading me the marriage service," said the girl, with a +quaint mixture of pride and diffidence. "I know all about it now; I +don't think I'll forget again." + +"Of course not! And now that you have seen your husband, do you find +that you remember him at all?" + +"Yes, a little. I know that I have seen you before," she answered, +addressing Cyril. + +"I gather from your manner that you don't exactly dislike him, do you?" +asked the doctor with an attempt at levity. "Your husband is so modest +that he is afraid to remain in your presence till you have reassured him +on this point." + +"I love him very much," was her astounding answer. + +Cyril's heart gave a bound. Did she realise what she had said? She +certainly showed no trace of embarrassment, and although her eyes clung +persistently to his, their expression of childlike simplicity was +absolutely disarming. + +"Very good, very good, quite as it should be," exclaimed the doctor, +evidently a little abashed by the frankness of the girl's reply. "That +being the case, I will leave you two together to talk over old times, +although they can't be very remote. I am sure, however, that when I see +you again, you will be as full of reminiscences as an octogenarian," +chuckled the doctor as he left the room. + +Cyril and the girl were alone. + +An arm-chair had been placed near the bed, obviously for his reception, +and after a moment's hesitation he took it. The girl did not speak, but +continued to look at him unflinchingly. Cyril fancied she regarded him +with something of the unquestioning reverence a small child might have +for a beloved parent. His eyes sank before hers. Never had he felt so +unworthy, so positively guilty. He racked his brains for something to +say, but the doctor's restrictions seemed to bar every topic which +suggested itself to him. If he only knew who she was! He glanced at her +furtively. In the dim light of the shaded lamp he had not noticed that +what he had supposed was her hair, was in reality a piece of black lace +bound turbanwise about her head. + +"What are you wearing that bandage for?" he inquired eagerly. "Was your +head hurt--my dear?" he added diffidently. + +"No--I--I hope you won't be angry--nurse said you would--but I couldn't +help it. I really had to cut it off." + +"Cut what off?" + +"My hair." She hung her head as a naughty child might have done. + +"You cut off your hair? But why?" His voice sounded suddenly harsh. +Strange that her first act had been to destroy one of the few things by +which she could be identified. Was she as innocent as she seemed? Had +she fooled them all, even the doctor? This amnesia, or whatever it was +called, was it real, was it assumed? He wondered. + +"Oh, husband, I know it was wrong; but when I woke up and couldn't +remember anything, I was so frightened, and then nurse brought me a +looking-glass and the face I saw was so strange! Oh, it was so lonely +without even myself! And then nurse said it was my hair. She said it +sometimes happened when people have had a great shock or been very ill +and so--I made her cut it off. She didn't want to--it wasn't her +fault--I made her do it." + +"But what had happened to your hair?" + +"It had turned quite white, most of it." The girl shuddered. "Oh, it was +horrid! I am sure you would not have liked it." + +Cyril, looking into her limpid eyes, felt his sudden suspicions unworthy +of him. + +"You must grow a nice new crop of black curls, if you want to appease +me," he answered. + +"Oh, do you like black hair?" Her disappointment was obvious. + +"Yes, don't you? Your hair was black before your illness." + +"I know it was--but I hate it! At all events, as long as I must wear a +wig, I should like to have a nice yellow one; nurse tells me I can get +them quite easily." + +"Dear me! But I don't think a wig nice at all." + +"Don't you?" Her mouth drooped at the corners. She seemed on the verge +of tears. + +What an extraordinary child! he thought. But she mustn't cry--anything +rather than that. + +"My dear, if you want a wig, you shall have one immediately. Tell your +nurse to send to the nearest hairdresser for an assortment from which +you can make your choice." + +"Oh, thank you, thank you," she cried, clapping her hands. Her hands! +Cyril had forgotten them for the moment, and it was through them that he +had hoped to establish her identity. He looked at them searchingly. No +ring encircled the wedding finger, nor did it show the depression which +the constant wearing of one invariably leaves. The girl was evidently +unmarried. Those long, slender, well-kept hands certainly did not look +as if they could belong to a servant, but he reflected that a +seamstress' work was not of a nature to spoil them. Only the forefinger +of her left hand would probably bear traces of needle pricks. He leaned +eagerly forward. + +"What are you looking at?" she asked. + +"At your hands, my dear," he tried to speak lightly. + +"What is the matter with them?" She held them out for his inspection. +Yes, it was as he had expected--her forefinger was rough. She was +Priscilla Prentice. Everything had fore-warned him of this conclusion, +yet in his heart of hearts he had not believed it possible till this +moment. + +"Don't you like my hands?" she asked, as she regarded them with anxious +scrutiny, evidently trying to discover why they failed to find favour in +the sight of her lord. + +"They are--" He checked himself; he had almost added--the prettiest +hands in the world; but he mustn't say such things to her, not under the +circumstances. "They are very pretty, only you have sewn so much that +you have quite spoiled one little finger." + +"Sewn?" She seemed struck with the idea. "Sew? I should like to sew. I +know I can." + +Further proof of her identity, if he needed it. + +"Well, you must get nurse to find you something on which to exercise +your talents--only you must be careful not to prick yourself so much in +future." + +"I will try, husband," she answered meekly, as she gazed solemnly at the +offending finger. + +There was a pause. + +"Do tell me something about my past life," said she. "I have been lying +here wondering and wondering." + +"What do you want to know?" + +"Everything. In the first place, are my parents living? Oh, I hope so!" + +Here was a poser. Cyril had no idea whether her parents were alive or +not, but even if they were, it would be impossible to communicate with +them for the present, so he had better set her mind at rest by denying +their existence. + +"No, my dear, you are an orphan, and you have neither brothers nor +sisters," he added hastily. It was just as well to put a final stop to +questions as to her family. + +"Nobody of my own--nobody?" + +"Nobody," he reiterated, but he felt like a brute. + +"Have I any children?" was her next question. + +Cyril started perceptibly. + +"No, no, certainly not," he was so embarrassed that he spoke quite +sharply. + +"Oh, are you glad?" She stared at him in amazement and to his disgust +Cyril felt himself turning crimson. + +"Now I'm sorry," she continued with a soft sigh. "I wish I had a baby. I +remember about babies." + +"I--I like them, too," he hastened to assure her. Really this was worse +than he had expected. + +"How long have we been married?" she demanded. + +"I have been married four years," he truthfully answered, hoping that +that statement would satisfy her. + +"Fancy! We have been living together for four years! Isn't it awful that +I can only remember you the very weeist little bit! But I will love, +honour, and obey you--now that I know--I will indeed." + +"I am sure you will always do what is right," said Cyril with a sudden +tightening of his throat. She looked so young, so innocent, so serious. +Oh, if only---- + +"Bah, don't waste too much love on me. I'm an unworthy beggar," he said +aloud. + +"You are an unworthy husband? Oh!" She opened her eyes wide and stared +at him in consternation. "But it doesn't say anything in the prayer-book +about not loving unworthy husbands. I don't believe it makes any +difference to the vow before God. Besides you don't look unworthy--are +you sure you are?" she pleaded. + +Cyril's eyes fell before her agonised gaze. + +"I'll try to be worthy of you," he stammered. + +"Worthy of me?" she cried with a gay, little laugh. "I'm too silly and +stupid now to be anything but a burden--I quite realise that--but the +doctor thinks I will get better and in the meantime I will try to please +you and do my duty." + +Poor baby, thought Cyril, the marriage vows she imagined she had taken +seemed to weigh dreadfully on her conscience. Oh, if he could only +undeceive her! + +A discreet knock sounded at the door. + +The nurse made her appearance. + +"The doctor thinks Mrs. Thompkins has talked enough for the present," +she said. + +Cyril rose with a curious mixture of relief and reluctance. + +"Well, this must be good-bye for to-day," he said, taking her small hand +in his. + +She lifted up her face--simply as a child might have done. Slowly he +leaned nearer to her, his heart was pounding furiously; the blood rushed +to his temples. + +Suddenly he started back! He must not--he dare not----! + +For a moment he crushed her fingers to his lips; then turning abruptly, +he strode towards the door. + +"You'll come to-morrow, won't you?" she cried. + +"Yes, to-morrow," he answered. + +"Early?" + +"As early as I can." + +"Good-bye, husband. I will be so lonely without you," she called after +him, but he resolutely closed the door. + +At the foot of the stairs a nurse was waiting for him. + +"The doctor would like to speak to you for a moment," she said as she +led the way to the consulting-room. + +"Well, how did you find Lady Wilmersley's memory; were you able to help +her in any way to recall the past," inquired the doctor. + +Cyril was too preoccupied to notice that the other's manner was several +degrees colder than it had been on his arrival. + +"I fear not." Cyril felt guiltily conscious that he was prevaricating. + +"You astonish me. I confess I am disappointed. Yes, very much so. But it +will come back to her--I am sure it will." + +"I say, doctor, how long do you think my wife will have to remain here?" + +"No longer than she wishes to. She could be moved to-morrow, if +necessary, but I advise waiting till the day after." + +"You are sure it won't hurt her?" insisted Cyril anxiously. + +"Quite. In fact, the sooner Lady Wilmersley resumes her normal life the +better." + +"How soon will I be able to talk freely to her?" Cyril asked. + +"That depends largely on how she progresses, but not before a month at +the earliest. By the way, Lord Wilmersley, I want you to take charge of +Lady Wilmersley's bag. The contents were too valuable to be left about; +so after taking out her toilet articles, the nurse brought it to me." + +"Ah! and--and what was in the bag?" asked Cyril fearfully. + +"Lady Wilmersley's jewels, of course." + +Jewels! This was terrible. If they were those belonging to his cousin, +their description had been published in every paper in the kingdom. It +was a miracle that Smith had not recognised them. + +"Of course," Cyril managed to stammer. + +The doctor went to a safe and taking out a cheap, black bag handed it to +Cyril. + +"I should like you, please, to see if they are all there," he said. + +"That isn't the least necessary," Cyril hastened to assure him. + +"You would greatly oblige me by doing so." + +"I'm quite sure they are all right; besides if any are missing, they +were probably stolen in Paris," said Cyril. + +"But I insist." Stuart-Smith was nothing if not persistent. His keen +eyes had noted Cyril's agitation and his reluctance to open the bag made +the doctor all the more determined to force him to do so. + +But Cyril was too quick for him. Seizing the bag, he made for the door. + +"I'll come back to-morrow," he cried over his shoulder, as he hurried +unceremoniously out of the room and out of the house. + +A disreputable-looking man stood at the door of his waiting taxi and +obsequiously opened it. Shouting his address to the driver, Cyril flung +himself into the car and waved the beggar impatiently away. + +No sooner were they in motion than Cyril hastened to open the bag. A +brown paper parcel lay at the bottom of it. He undid the string with +trembling fingers. Yes, it was as he feared--a part, if not all, of the +Wilmersley jewels lay before him. + +"Give me a penny, for the love of Gawd," begged a hoarse voice at his +elbow. The beggar was still clinging to the step and his villainous face +was within a foot of the jewels. + +Cyril felt himself grow cold with apprehension. The fellow knew who he +was, and followed him. He was a detective! + +"A gen'lman like you could well spare a poor man a penny," the fellow +whined, but there was a note of menace in his voice. Cyril tried to get +a good look at him, but the light was too dim for him to distinguish his +features clearly. + +Hastily covering the jewels, Cyril thrust a coin into the grimy hand. + +"Go!" he commanded, "go, or I'll call the police." + +The man sank out of sight. + +"My poor little girl, my poor little girl," murmured Cyril +disconsolately, as he glanced once more at the incriminating jewels. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE TWO FRENCHMEN + + +"You must be mad, Cyril! No sane man could have got into such a mess!" +cried Guy Campbell, excitedly pounding his fat knee with his podgy hand. + +Cyril had been so disturbed by the finding of the Wilmersley jewels that +he had at last decided that he must confide his troubles to some one. He +realised that the time had come when he needed not only advice but +assistance. He was now so convinced that he was being watched that he +had fled to his club for safety. There, at all events, he felt +comparatively safe from prying eyes, and it was there in a secluded +corner that he poured his tale of woe into his friend's astonished ears. + +"You must be mad," the latter repeated. + +"If that is all you can find to say, I am sorry I told you," exclaimed +Cyril irritably. + +"It's a jolly good thing you did! Why, you are no more fit to take care +of yourself than a new-born baby." Guy's chubby face expressed such +genuine concern that Cyril relaxed a little. + +"Perhaps I've been a bit of an ass, but really I don't see what else I +could have done." + +"No, don't suppose you do," said Guy, regarding Cyril with pitying +admiration. + +"Oh, don't rub it in! The question now is not what I ought to have done, +but what am I to do now?" + +"What do you intend to do?" + +"I haven't the slightest idea. I want your advice." + +"Oh, no, you don't! Why, you wouldn't even listen to a sensible +suggestion." + +"What do you call a sensible suggestion?" Cyril cautiously inquired. + +"To get the girl out of the nursing home and lose her. And it ought to +be done P. D. Q., as the Americans say." + +"I shall certainly do nothing of the sort." + +"Exactly," cried Campbell triumphantly. "I know you, Lord Quixote; you +have some crazy plan in your head. Out with it." + +"I haven't a plan, I tell you. Now as I am being followed----" + +"I can't believe you are," interrupted Guy. + +"I feel sure that that beggar I told you about was a detective." + +"Why?" + +"He was evidently waiting for me and I couldn't shake him off till he +had had a good look at the jewels." + +"It is much more likely that he was waiting for a penny than for you, +and beggars are usually persistent. I see no possible reason why the +police should be shadowing you. It is your guilty conscience that makes +you so suspicious." + +"You may be right; I certainly hope you are, but till I am sure of it, I +don't dare to run the risk of being seen with Miss Prentice. As she is +in no condition to go about alone, I have been worrying a good deal as +to how to get her out of the Home; so I thought--it occurred to +me--that--you are the person to do it." + +"Thanks, awfully! So you leave me the pleasant task of running off with +a servant-girl who is 'wanted' by the police! You are really too +unselfish!" + +"Miss Prentice is a lady," Cyril angrily asserted. + +"H'm," Campbell ejaculated skeptically. "That she is a beauty I do not +doubt, and she has certainly played her cards very skilfully." + +"Don't you dare to speak of her like that," cried Cyril, clenching his +fists and half starting to his feet. + +"By Jove, old man! You're smitten with her," exclaimed Campbell, staring +aghast at his friend. + +Cyril flushed darkly under his tan. + +"Certainly not, but I have the greatest respect for this unfortunate +young woman, and don't you forget it again." + +Campbell smiled incredulously. + +"Oh, very well! Believe what you like, but I didn't think you were the +sort of man who never credits a fellow with disinterested motives, if he +behaves half-way decently to a woman." + +"Steady now, Cyril. Don't let's quarrel. You mustn't take offence so +easily. I have never seen the young lady, remember. And you know I will +help you even against my better judgment." + +"You're a good chap, Guy." + +"Thanks! Now let us first of all consider Miss Prentice's case +dispassionately. I want to be sure of my facts; then I may be able to +form some conjecture as to why Wilmersley was murdered and how the +jewels came into Miss Prentice's possession. You tell me that it has +been proved that she really left Geralton on the afternoon before the +murder?" + +"Yes; the carrier swears he drove her into Newhaven and put her down +near the station. Further than that they have luckily not been able to +trace her." + +"Now your idea is that Miss Prentice, having in some way managed to +secure a car, returned to Geralton that evening and got into the castle +through the library window?" + +"No, I doubt if she entered the castle. I can think of no reason why she +should have done so," said Cyril. + +"In that case, how do you account for her injuries? Who could have +flogged her except your charming cousin?" + +"I hadn't thought of that!" exclaimed Cyril. + +"Granting that she is Priscilla Prentice, the only hypothesis I can +think of which explains her predicament is this: Having planned to +rescue her mistress, she was only waiting for a favourable opportunity +to present itself. The doctor's visit determined her to act at once. I +agree with you that to re-enter Geralton was not her original intention, +but while waiting under the library window for Lady Wilmersley to join +her, she hears Wilmersley ill-treating his wife, so she climbs in and +rushes to the latter's assistance." + +"Yes, yes," assented Cyril with shining eyes. + +"But she is overpowered by Wilmersley," continued Campbell, warming to +his theme, "who, insane with rage, flogs her unmercifully. Then Lady +Wilmersley, fearing the girl will be killed, seizes the pistol, which is +lying on the desk, and fires at her husband----" + +"I am convinced that that is just what happened," cried Cyril. + +"Don't be too sure of it; still, it seems to me that that theory hangs +together pretty well," Campbell complacently agreed. "Of course, neither +woman contemplated murder. Wilmersley's death completely unnerved them. +If the gardener's wife heard a cry coming from the car, it is possible +that one or the other had an attack of hysterics. Now about the +jewels--I believe Miss Prentice took charge of them, either because Lady +Wilmersley was unfit to assume such a responsibility or because they +agreed that she could the more easily dispose of them. I think that Miss +Prentice's hurried trip to town was undertaken not in order to avoid +arrest, but primarily to raise money, of which they must have had great +need, and possibly also to rejoin her mistress, who, now that we know +that she made her escape in a car, is probably hiding somewhere either +in London itself or in its vicinity." + +"Guy, you are a wonder. You have thought of everything," cried Cyril +admiringly. + +"Of course, I may be quite wrong. These are only suppositions, +remember," Campbell modestly reminded him. "By the way, what have you +done with the jewels? I can't believe that you are in any danger of +arrest, but if there is the remotest chance of such a thing, it wouldn't +look very well if they were found in your possession." + +"I had thought of that. I was even afraid that my rooms might be +searched in my absence, so I took them with me." + +"They are here?" + +"Yes, in my pocket. I have hidden the bag and to-night I mean to burn +it." + +"Your pocket is not a very safe repository." + +"Exactly. That is why I want you to take charge of them," said Cyril. + +"Oh, very well," sighed Campbell, with mock resignation. "In for a +penny, in for a pound. I shall probably end by being arrested as a +receiver of stolen property! But now we must consider what we had better +do with Miss Prentice." + +"I think I shall hire a cottage in the country for her." + +"If you did that, the police would find her immediately. The only safe +hiding-place is a crowd." + +"You think so?" Cyril looked doubtful. + +"I am sure of it. Now let me see: Where is she least likely to attract +attention? It must be a place where you could manage to see her without +being compromised, and, if possible, without being observed. I have it! +A hotel. The Hotel George is the very place. In a huge caravansary like +that all sorts and conditions of people jostle each other without +exciting comment. Besides, the police are less likely to look among the +guests of such an expensive hotel for a poor maid servant or in such a +public resort for a fugitive from justice." + +"You are right!" cried Cyril enthusiastically. + +"But in her present condition," continued Campbell, "I don't see how she +could remain there alone." + +"Certainly not. She must have some woman with her." + +"Exactly. But what trustworthy woman could you get to undertake such a +task? Perhaps one of the nurses----" + +"No," Cyril hastily interrupted him. "When she leaves the nursing home, +all trace of her must be lost. At any moment the police may discover +that a woman whom I have represented to be my wife has been a patient +there. That will naturally arouse their suspicions and they will do +their utmost to discover who it is that I am protecting with my name. +No, a nurse would never do. For one thing, she would feel called upon to +report to the doctor." + +"You might bribe her not to do so," suggested Guy. + +"I shouldn't dare to trust to an absolutely unknown quantity. Oh, if I +only knew a respectable woman on whom I could rely! I would pay her a +small fortune for her services." + +"I know somebody who might do," said Campbell. "Her name is Miss Trevor +and she used to be my sister's governess. She is too old to teach now +and I fancy has a hard time to make both ends meet. The only trouble is +that she is so conscientious that she would rather starve than be mixed +up in anything she did not consider perfectly honourable and above +board. If I told her that she was to chaperon a young lady whom the +police were looking for, she would be so indignant that I doubt if she +would ever speak to me again." + +"Why tell her?" insinuated Cyril. + +"It doesn't seem decent to inveigle her by false representations into +taking a position which she would never dream of accepting if she knew +the truth." + +"I will pay her L200 a year as long as she lives, if she will look after +Miss Prentice till this trouble is over. Even if the worst happens and +the girl is discovered, she can truthfully plead ignorance of the +latter's identity," urged Cyril. + +"True, and two hundred a year is good pay even for unpleasant notoriety. +Yes, on the whole I think I am justified in accepting the offer for her. +But now we must consider what fairy tale we are going to concoct for her +benefit." + +"Oh, I don't know," sighed Cyril wearily. + +"Imagination giving out, or conscience awakening--which is it?" asked +Guy. + +"Don't chaff!" + +"Sorry, old man; but joking aside, we must really decide what we are to +tell Miss Trevor. You can no longer pose as Miss Prentice's husband----" + +"Why not?" interrupted Cyril sharply. + +"What possible excuse have you for doing so, now that she is to leave +the doctor's care?" + +"I am sure it would have a very bad effect on Miss Prentice's health, if +I were to tell her that she is not my wife." + +"H'm, h'm!" Campbell regarded his friend quizzically. + +"Remember, she is completely cut off from the past," urged Cyril; "she +has neither friend nor relation to cling to. I am the one person in the +world she believes she has a claim on. I can't undeceive her. Besides, +the doctor's orders are that she shall not be in any way agitated." + +"Well, that settles that question. Now what explanation will you give +Miss Trevor for not living with your wife?" + +"I shall say that her state of health renders it inadvisable for the +present." + +"What shall she be called?" asked Campbell. + +"I think we had better stick to Thompkins. She is accustomed to that. +Only we will spell it Tomkyns and change the Christian name to John." + +"But won't she confide what she believes to be her real name to Miss +Trevor?" asked Guy anxiously. + +"I think not--not if I tell her I don't wish her to do so. She has a +great idea of wifely obedience, I assure you." + +"Well," laughed Guy, "that is a virtue which so few real wives possess +that it seems a pity it should be wasted on a temporary one. And now, +Cyril, we must decide on the best way and the best time for transferring +Miss Prentice to the hotel." + +"Unless something unexpected occurs to change our plans, I think she had +better be moved the day after to-morrow. I advise your starting as early +as possible before the world is well awake. But I leave all details to +you. You are quite capable of managing the situation. Only be sure you +are not followed, that is all I ask." + +"I don't expect we shall be, but if we are, I think I can promise to +outwit them," Campbell assured him. + +"I shall never forget what you are doing for me, Guy." + +"You had better not. I expect you to erect a monument commemorating my +virtues and my folly. Now I must be off. Where are those stolen goods of +which I am to become the custodian?" + +"Here they are. I have done them up in several parcels, so that they are +not too bulky to carry. As I don't want the police to know how intimate +we are, it is better that we should not be seen together in public for +the present." + +"I think you are over-cautious. But perhaps," agreed Campbell, "we might +as well meet here till all danger is over." + +A few minutes later Cyril also left the club. His talk with Campbell had +been a great relief to him. As he walked briskly along, he felt +calm--almost cheerful. + +"Isn't this Lord Wilmersley?" inquired a deep voice at his elbow. + +Turning quickly Cyril recognised Inspector Griggs. + +For a moment Cyril was too startled to speak. Then, pulling himself +together, he exclaimed with an attempt at heartiness: + +"Why, Inspector! I thought you were in Newhaven. What has brought you to +town?" + +"I only left Newhaven this afternoon, but I think my work there is +finished--for the present at least." + +"Really? Have you already solved the mystery?" + +"No indeed, but the clue now leads away from Geralton." + +"Clue? What clue?" Cyril found it difficult to control the tremor in his +voice. + +"If you'll excuse me, my lord, I had better keep my suppositions to +myself till I am able to verify them." + +The man suspected him! But why? What had he discovered? Cyril felt he +could not let him go before he had ascertained exactly what he had to +fear. It was so awful, this fighting in the dark. + +"If you have half an hour to spare, come to my rooms. They are only a +few doors away." Cyril was convinced that the Inspector knew where he +was staying and had been lying in wait for him. He thought it best to +pretend that he felt above suspicion. + +"Thank you, my lord." + +A few minutes later they were sitting before a blazing fire, the +Inspector puffing luxuriously at a cigar and sipping from time to time a +glass of whiskey and soda which Peter had reluctantly placed at his +elbow. Peter, as he himself would have put it, "did not hold with the +police," and thought his master was sadly demeaning himself by +fraternising with a member of that calling. + +"I quite understand your reluctance to talk about a case," said Cyril, +reverting at once to the subject he had in mind; "but as this one so +nearly concerns my family and consequently myself, I think I have a +right to your confidence. I am most anxious to know what you have +discovered. This mystery is weighing on me. I assure you, you can rely +on my discretion." + +"Well, my lord, it's a bit unprofessional, but seeing it's you, I don't +mind if I do. It's the newspaper men, I am afraid of." + +"I shall not mention what you tell me to any one except possibly to one +friend," Cyril hastily assured him. + +"Thank you, my lord. You see I may be all wrong, so I don't want to say +too much till I can prove my case." + +"I understand that," said Cyril; "and this clue that you are +following--what is it?" he inquired with breathless impatience. + +"The car, my lord," answered the Inspector, settling himself deeper in +his chair, while his eyes began to gleam with suppressed excitement. + +"You have found the car in which her ladyship made her escape?" + +"I don't know about that yet, but I have found the car that stood at the +foot of the long lane on the night of the murder." + +"Remarkable!" + +"Oh, that's not so very wonderful," protested the Inspector with an +attempt at modesty, but he was evidently bursting with pride in his +achievement. + +"How did you do it? What had you to go on?" asked Cyril with genuine +amazement. + +"I began my search by trying to find out what cars had been seen in the +neighbourhood of Geralton on the night of the murder--by neighbourhood I +mean a radius of twenty-five miles. I found, as I expected, that +half-past eleven not being a favourite hour for motoring, comparatively +few had been seen or heard. Most of these turned out to be the property +of gentlemen who had no difficulty in proving that they had been used +only for perfectly legitimate purposes. There remained, however, two +cars of which I failed to get a satisfactory account. One belongs to a +Mr. Benedict, a young man who owns a place about ten miles from +Geralton, and who seems to have spent the evening motoring wildly over +the country. He pretends he had no particular object, and as he is a bit +queer, it may be true. The other car is the property of the landlord of +the Red Lion Inn, a very respectable hotel in Newhaven. I then sent two +of my men to examine these cars and report if either of them has a new +tire, for the gardener's wife swore that the car she heard had burst +one. Mr. Benedict's tires all showed signs of wear, but the Red Lion car +has a brand new one!" + +"Bravo! That is a fine piece of work." + +"Oh, that is nothing," replied the Inspector, vainly trying to suppress +a self-satisfied smile. + +"Did you find any further evidence against this hotel-keeper? What +connection had he with the castle?" inquired Cyril. + +"He knew Lord Wilmersley slightly, but says he has never even seen her +Ladyship. And I am inclined to believe him." + +"In that case what part does he play in the affair?" + +"None, I fancy. You see he keeps the car for the convenience of his +guests and on the day in question it had been hired by two young +Frenchmen, who were out in it from two o'clock till midnight." + +"Frenchmen! But how could they have had anything to do with the +tragedy?" + +"That remains to be seen. So far all I have been able to find out about +these two men is that they landed in Newhaven ten days before the +murder. They professed to be brothers and called themselves Joseph and +Paul Durand. They seemed to be amply provided with money and wanted the +best the hotel had to offer. Joseph Durand appeared a decent sort of +fellow, but the younger one drank. The waiters fancy that the elder man +used to remonstrate with him occasionally, but the youngster paid very +little attention to him." + +"You say they _professed_ to be brothers. Why do you doubt their +relationship?" + +"For one reason, the elder one did not understand a word of English, +while the young one spoke it quite easily, although with a strong +accent. That is, he spoke it with a strong accent when he was sober, but +when under the influence of liquor this accent disappeared." + +"And what has become of the pair?" + +"They left Newhaven the morning after the murder. Their departure was +very hurried, and the landlord is sure that the day before they had no +intention of leaving." + +"Where did they go to?" + +"They took the boat to Dieppe. The porter saw them off." + +"Have you been able to trace them farther?" + +"Not yet, my lord, but I have sent one of my men to try and follow them +up, and I have notified the continental police to be on the look-out for +them. It's a pity that they have three days' start of us." + +"But as you have an accurate description of both, I should imagine that +they will soon be found." + +"It's through the young 'un they'll be caught, if they are caught." + +"Why, is he deformed in any way?" + +"No, my lord, but they tell me he is abnormally small for a man of his +age, for he must be twenty-two or three at the very least. The landlord +believes that he is a jockey who had got into bad habits, and that the +elder man is his trainer or backer. Of course, he may be right, but the +waiters pooh-pooh the idea. They insist that the boy is a gentleman-born +and servants are pretty good judges of such things, though you mightn't +think it, my lord." + +"I can quite believe it," assented Cyril. "But then there are many +gentlemen jockeys." + +"So there are. I only wish I had seen the little fellow, for they all +agree that there was something about him which would make it impossible +for any one who had once met him ever to forget him again." + +"That certainly is a most unusual quality." + +"So it is, my lord. They also tell me that if his eyes had not been so +bloodshot, and if he had not looked so drawn and haggard, he'd have been +an extraordinarily good-looking chap." + +"Really?" + +"Yes. It seems that he has large blue eyes, a fine little nose, not a +bit red as you would expect, and as pretty a mouth as ever you'd see. +His hair is auburn and he wears it rather long, which I don't think he'd +do if he were a jockey. Besides, his skin is as fine as a baby's, though +its colour is a grey-white with only a spot of red in the middle of each +cheek." + +"He must be a queer-looking beggar!" + +"That's just it. That's why I think we shall soon spot him." + +"What did the elder Durand look like?" + +"The ordinary type of Frenchman. He is about twenty-eight years old, +medium height, and inclined to be stout. He has dark hair, a little thin +at the temples, dark moustache, and dark eyes. His features are +nondescript." + +"On the night of the murder you say they returned to the hotel at about +midnight?" + +"Somewhere around then." + +"Was their behaviour in any way noticeable?" + +"The porter was so sleepy that he can't remember much about it. He had +an impression that they came in arm in arm and went quietly upstairs." + +"They were alone?" + +"Certainly." + +"But what do you think they had done with Lady Wilmersley?" + +"But, my lord, you didn't expect that they would bring her to the hotel, +did you? If they were her friends, their first care would be for her +safety. If they were not--well, we will have to look for another victim, +that is all." + +"You think that there is that possibility?" inquired Cyril eagerly. + +"I do, my lord." The Inspector rose ponderously to his feet. "I mustn't +keep you any longer." He hesitated a moment, eyeing Cyril doubtfully. +There was evidently still something he wished to say. + +Cyril had also risen to his feet and stood leaning against the +mantelpiece, idly wondering at the man's embarrassment. + +"I trust her Ladyship has quite recovered?" the Inspector finally +blurted out. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE INSPECTOR INTERVIEWS CYRIL + + +Cyril felt the muscles of his face stiffen. He had for days been +dreading some such question, yet now that it had finally come, it had +found him completely unprepared. He must parry it if he could. He must +fight for her till the last ditch. + +But how devilishly clever of Griggs to have deferred his attack until he +was able to catch his adversary off his guard! Cyril looked keenly but, +he hoped, calmly at the Inspector. Their eyes met, but without the clash +which Cyril had expected. The man's expression, although searching, was +not hostile; in fact, there was something almost apologetic about his +whole attitude. Griggs was not sure of his ground, that much was +obvious. He knew something, he probably suspected more, but there was +still a chance that he might be led away from the trail. + +Cyril's mind worked with feverish rapidity. He realised that it was +imperative that his manner should appear perfectly natural. But how +would an innocent man behave? He must first decide what his position, +viewed from Griggs's standpoint, really was. He must have a definite +conception of his part before he attempted to act it. + +The Inspector evidently knew that a young woman, who bore Cyril's name, +had been taken ill on the Newhaven train. He was no doubt also aware +that she was now under the care of Dr. Stuart-Smith. But if the +Inspector really believed the girl to be his wife, these facts were in +no way incriminating. Yet the man smelt a rat! He must, therefore, know +more of the truth. No, for if he had discovered that the girl was not +Lady Wilmersley, Cyril was sure that Griggs would not have broached the +subject so tentatively. What then had aroused the man's suspicions? Ah, +he had it! He had told every one who inquired about his wife that she +was still on the continent. Peter, also, obeying his orders, had +repeated the same story in the servants' hall. And, of course, Griggs +knew that they were both lying. No wonder he was suspicious! + +"She is much better, thank you. But how did you hear of her illness? I +have not mentioned it to any one." Cyril flattered himself that his +voice had exactly the right note of slightly displeased surprise. He +watched the Inspector breathlessly. Had he said the right thing? Yes, +for Griggs's expression relaxed and he answered with a smile that was +almost deprecating: + +"I, of course, saw the report of the man who searched the train, and I +was naturally surprised to find that the only lady who had taken her +ticket in Newhaven was Mrs. Cyril Crichton. In a case like this we have +to verify everything, so when I discovered that the gentleman who was +with her, was undoubtedly your Lordship, it puzzled me a good deal why +both you and your valet should be so anxious to keep her Ladyship's +presence in England a secret." + +"Yes, yes, it must have astonished you, and I confess I am very sorry +you found me out," said Cyril. He had his cue now. The old lie must be +told once more. "Her Ladyship is suffering from a--a nervous affection." +He hesitated purposely. "In fact--she has just left an insane asylum," +he finally blurted out. + +"You mean that the present Lady Wilmersley--not the Dowager--?" The +Inspector was too surprised to finish his sentence. + +"Yes, it's queer, isn't it, that both should be afflicted in the same +way," agreed Cyril, calmly lighting a cigarette. + +"Most remarkable," ejaculated Griggs, staring fixedly at Cyril. + +"As the doctors believe that her Ladyship will completely recover, I +didn't want any one to know that she had ever been unbalanced. But I +might have known that it was bound to leak out." + +"We are no gossips, my lord; I shall not mention what you have told me +to any one." + +"Thanks. But if the whole police department----?" + +"They have got too much to do, to bother about what doesn't concern +them. I don't believe a dozen of them noticed that in searching the +train for one Lady Wilmersley, they had inadvertently stumbled on +another, and as the latter had nothing to do with their case, they +probably dismissed the whole thing from their minds. I know them!" + +"But you--" suggested Cyril. + +"Well, you see, it's different with me. It's the business of my men to +bring me isolated facts, but I have to take a larger view of +the--the--the--ah--possibilities. I have got to think of +everything--suspect every one." + +"Even me?" asked Cyril quickly. + +"Your Lordship would have no difficulty in proving an alibi." + +"So you took the trouble to find that out?" + +"Of course, my lord." + +"But why? I should really like to know what could have led you to +suspect me?" + +"I didn't suspect you, my lord. I only thought of you. You see, Lady +Wilmersley must have had an accomplice and you must acknowledge that it +was a strange coincidence that your Lordship should have happened to +pass through Newhaven at that particular moment, especially as the +Newhaven route is not very popular with people of your means." + +"Quite so. As a matter of fact, I had no intention of taking it, but I +missed the Calais train." + +"I see," Griggs nodded his head as if the explanation fully satisfied +him. "Would you mind, my lord," he continued after a brief pause, "if, +now that we are on the subject, I asked you a few questions? There are +several points which are bothering me. Of course, don't answer, if you +had rather not." + +"You mean if my answers are likely to incriminate me. Well, I don't +think they will, so fire ahead," drawled Cyril, trying to express by his +manner a slight weariness of the topic. + +"Thank you, my lord." Griggs looked a trifle abashed, but he persisted. +"I have been wondering how it was that you met her Ladyship in Newhaven, +if you had no previous intention of taking that route?" + +Cyril was ready with his answer. + +"It was quite accidental. The fact is, her Ladyship escaped from an +asylum near Fontainebleau over a fortnight ago. I scoured France for her +but finally gave up the search, and leaving the French detectives to +follow up any clue that might turn up, I decided almost on the spur of +the moment to run over to England. I was never more astonished than when +I found her on the train." + +"Why had she gone to Newhaven?" asked Griggs. + +"I have no idea." + +"Nor how long she stayed there?" + +"No. She was rather excited and I asked no questions." + +"Had she ever before visited Newhaven to your knowledge?" + +"Never." + +"Then she did not know the late Lord Wilmersley?" + +"No." + +"Was there any reason for this?" inquired the detective, looking keenly +at Cyril. + +"I was never very friendly with my cousin, and we sailed for South +Africa immediately after our marriage. Neither of us has been home since +then." + +"I must find out where she spent the night of the murder," murmured the +Inspector. He seemed to have forgotten Cyril's presence. + +"If you think her Ladyship had anything to do with the tragedy, I assure +you, you are on the wrong track," cried Cyril, forgetting for a moment +his pose of polite aloofness. "She has never been at all violent. It is +chiefly her memory that is affected. Until the last few days what she +did one minute, she forgot the next." + +"You think, therefore, that she would not be able to tell me how she +spent her time in Newhaven?" + +"I am sure of it." + +"That is most unfortunate! By the way, how has she taken the news of +Lord Wilmersley's murder?" + +"She has not been told of it. She does not even know that he is dead." + +"Ah!" + +"I see I must explain her case more fully, so that you may be able to +understand my position. Her Ladyship's mind became affected about six +months ago, owing to causes into which I need not enter now. Since her +arrival in England her improvement has been very rapid. Her memory is +growing stronger, but it is essential that it should not be taxed for +the present. The doctor assures me that if she is kept perfectly quiet +for a month or so, she will recover completely. That is why I want her +to remain in absolute seclusion. An incautious word might send her off +her balance. She must be protected from people, and I will protect her, +I warn you of that. Six weeks from now, if all goes well, you can +cross-question her, if you still think it necessary, but at present I +not only forbid it, but I will do all in my power to prevent it. Of +course," continued Cyril more calmly, "I have neither the power nor the +desire to hamper you in the exercise of your profession; so if you doubt +my statements just ask Dr. Stuart-Smith whether he thinks her Ladyship +has ever been in a condition when she might have committed murder. He +will laugh at you, I am sure." + +"I don't doubt it, my lord; all the same--" Griggs hesitated. + +"All the same you would like to know what her Ladyship did on the night +of the murder. Well, find out, if you can. I assure you that although +our motives differ, my curiosity equals yours." + +"Thank you, my lord. I shall certainly do my best to solve the riddle," +said the Inspector as he bowed himself out. + +Cyril sank wearily into a chair. The interview had been a great strain, +and yet he felt that in a way it had been a relief also. He flattered +himself that he had played his cards rather adroitly. For now that he +had found out exactly how much the police knew, he might possibly +circumvent them. Of course, it was merely a question of days, perhaps +even of hours, before Griggs would discover that the girl was not his +wife; for the Inspector was nothing if not thorough and if he once began +searching Newhaven for evidence of her stay there, Cyril was sure that +it would not take him long to establish her identity. Oh! If he only had +Griggs fighting on his side, instead of the little pompous fool of a +Judson! By the way, what could have become of Judson? It was now two +full days since he had left Geralton. He certainly ought to have +reported himself long before this. Well, it made no difference one way +or the other. He was a negligible quantity. Cyril had no time to think +of him now. His immediate concern was to find a way by which Priscilla +could be surreptitiously removed from the nursing home, before the +police had time to collect sufficient evidence to warrant her arrest. +But how was it to be done? Cyril sat for half an hour staring at the +smouldering fire before he was able to hit on a plan that seemed to him +at all feasible. + +Going to the writing-table, he rapidly covered three sheets and thrust +them into an envelope. + +"Peter," he called. + +"Yes, sir," answered a sleepy voice. + +"You are to take this letter at half-past seven o'clock to-morrow +morning to Mr. Campbell's rooms and give it into his own hands. If he is +still asleep, wake him up. Do you understand?" + +"Yes, my lord." + +"Very well. You can go to bed now----" + +It was lucky, thought Cyril, that he had taken Guy into his confidence. +He was a good chap, Guy was! How he must hate the whole business! For, +notwithstanding his careless manner, he was _au fond_ a conventional +soul. It was really comical to think of that impeccable person as a +receiver of stolen property. What would he do with the jewels, Cyril +wondered. Ah, that reminded him of the bag. He must get rid of it at +once. Poking the fire into a blaze, he cautiously locked the two doors +which connected his rooms with the rest of the house. Then, having +assured himself that the blinds were carefully drawn and that no one was +secreted about the premises, he knelt down before the empty fireplace in +his bedroom and felt up the chimney. + +The bag was no longer there! + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +A PERILOUS VENTURE + + +In the grey dawn of the following morning Cyril was already up and +dressed. The first thing he did was to detach two of the labels affixed +to his box and place them carefully in his pocketbook. That +accomplished, he had to wait with what patience he could muster until +Peter returned with Campbell's reply. Cyril perused it eagerly. It was +evidently satisfactory, for he heaved a sigh of relief as he sat down to +breakfast. His eyes, however, never left the clock and it had hardly +finished striking nine before our hero was out of the house. No +suspicious person was in sight, but Cyril, was determined to take no +chances. He therefore walked quickly ahead, then turned so abruptly that +he would necessarily have surprised any one who was following him. This +he did many times till he reached Piccadilly Circus, where, with a last +look behind him, he bolted into a shop. There he asked for a small +travelling box suitable for a lady. Having chosen one, he took his +labels out of his pocket. + +"Have these pasted on the box," he ordered. + +The man's face expressed such amazement that Cyril hastened to remark +that the box was intended for a bride who did not wish to be identified +as such by the newness of her baggage. A comprehending and sympathetic +smile proved that the explanation was satisfactory. A few minutes later +Cyril drove off with his new acquisition. The next purchase was a +handsomely-fitted lady's dressing-bag, which he took to Trufitt's and +filled with such toilet accessories as a much-befrizzled young person +designated as indispensable to a lady's comfort. On leaving there he +stopped for a moment at his bank. + +Cyril now metaphorically girded his loins and summoning up all his +courage, plunged into a shop in Bond Street, where he remembered his +mother used to get what she vaguely termed "her things." Among the maze +of frou-frous he stood in helpless bewilderment, till an obsequious +floor-walker came to his rescue. Cyril explained that he had a box +outside which he wanted to fill then and there with a complete outfit +for a young lady. To his relief the man showed no surprise at so unusual +a request and he was soon ensconced in the blessed seclusion of a +fitting room. There the box was hurriedly packed with a varied +assortment of apparel, which he devoutly prayed would meet with +Priscilla's approval. It was not half-past eleven. The doctor must have +left the nursing home by this time, thought Cyril. + +Not wishing to attract attention by driving up to the door, he told the +chauffeur to stop when they were still at some distance away from it. +There he got out and looked anxiously about him. To his relief he +recognised Campbell's crimson pate hovering in the distance. So far, +thought Cyril triumphantly, there had been no hitch in his +carefully-laid plans. + +"You are to wait here," he said, turning to the driver, "for a lady and +a red-haired gentleman. Now understand, no one but a red-haired man is +to enter this car. Here is a pound, and if you don't make a mess of +things, the other gentleman will give you two more." + +"All right, sir; thank you, sir," exclaimed the astonished chauffeur, +greedily pocketing the gold piece. + +Cyril was certain that he had not been followed, and there was no sign +that the nursing home was being watched, but that did not reassure him. +Those curtained windows opposite might conceal a hundred prying eyes. + +When he was ushered into Miss Prentice's room, he was surprised to find +her already up and dressed. She held a mirror in one hand and with the +other was arranging a yellow wig, which encircled her face like an +aureole. Cyril could hardly restrain a cry of admiration. He had thought +her lovely before, but now her beauty was absolutely startling. + +On catching sight of him she dropped the mirror and ran to him with +outstretched hands. + +"Oh! I am so glad you have come. How do you like my hair?" she exclaimed +all in one breath. + +Cyril heroically disengaged himself from her soft, clinging clasp and +not daring to allow his eyes to linger on her upturned face, he surveyed +the article in question judicially. + +"For a wig it's not bad. I can't say, however, that I like anything +artificial," he asserted mendaciously. + +"You prefer my own hair!" she cried, and the corners of her mouth began +to droop in a way he had already begun to dread. "Oh! what shall I do? +Nurse tells me it will take ages and ages for it to grow again." + +"There, there, my dear, it's all right. You look lovely--" he paused +abruptly. + +"Oh, do I?" she cried, beaming with delight. "I am so glad you think +so!" + +"It doesn't matter what I think." + +"But it does," she insisted. + +Cyril turned resolutely away. This sort of thing must stop, he +determined. + +"I would like to ask you one thing." She hesitated a moment. "Are we +very poor?" + +"No, why?" + +"Then I could afford to have some pretty clothes?" + +"Certainly." + +"Oh, I'm so glad! I can't bear the ones I have on. I can't think why I +ever bought anything so ugly. I shall throw them away as soon as I can +get others. By the way, where is my box? Nurse tells me that I arrived +here with nothing but a small hand-bag." + +"It has gone astray," he stammered. "It will turn up soon, no doubt, but +in the meantime I have bought a few clothes for your immediate use." + +"Oh, have you? Where are they?" she cried, clapping her hands. + +Now was the crucial moment. He must introduce the subject of her +departure tactfully. + +"They are outside in a cab." + +She ran to the window. + +"But I see no cab." + +"It is waiting a little farther down the street." + +She looked bewildered. + +"Farther down--why?" + +"You trust me, don't you?" he said, looking earnestly at her. + +"Yes, of course." + +"Then, believe me, it is necessary for you to leave this place +immediately. I--you--are being pursued by some one who--who wishes to +separate us." + +"Oh, no, not that!" she cried. "But how can any one separate us, when +God has joined us together?" + +"It's a long story and I have no time to explain it now. All I ask is +that you will trust me blindly for the present, and do exactly what I +tell you to." + +"I will," she murmured submissively. + +"Thank you. Will you please call your nurse?" + +She touched a bell. + +The same middle-aged woman appeared of whom he had caught a glimpse on +his former visit. + +"Good-morning, nurse. Your patient seems pretty fit to-day." + +"Mrs. Thompkins is recovering very rapidly." + +"Can I speak to the doctor?" asked Cyril. + +"I am sorry, but he has just left." + +"Too bad!" Cyril knitted his brows as if the doctor's absence was an +unexpected disappointment. "Mrs. Thompkins must leave here at once and I +wanted to explain her precipitate departure to him." + +"You might telephone," suggested the nurse. + +"Yes, or better still, I shall call at his office. But his absence +places me in a most awkward predicament." + +Cyril paced the room several times as if in deep thought, then halted +before the nurse. + +"Well, there is no help for it. As the doctor is not here, I must +confide in you. Thompkins is not our real name. The doctor knows what +that is and it was on his advice that we discarded it for the time +being. I can't tell you our reason for this concealment nor why my wife +must not only leave this house as soon as possible, but must do so +unobserved. Will you help us?" + +"I--I don't know, sir," answered the nurse dubiously, staring at Cyril +in amazement. + +"If you will dress my wife in a nurse's uniform and see that she gets +out of here without being recognised, I will give you L100. Here is the +money." + +The nurse gave a gasp and backed away from the notes, which Cyril held +temptingly toward her. + +"Oh, I couldn't, sir, really I couldn't. The doctor would never forgive +me. Besides it seems so queer." + +"I promise you on my word of honour that the doctor need never know that +you helped us." + +But the woman only shook her head. + +"What makes you hesitate?" continued Cyril. "Do you think I am trying to +bribe you to do something dishonourable? Ah, that is it, is it?" He gave +a short laugh. "Look at my wife, does she look like a criminal, I ask +you?" + +"She certainly doesn't," answered the nurse, glancing eagerly from one +to the other and then longingly down at the money in Cyril's hand. + +"Well, then, why not trust your instinct in the matter? My wife and I +have been placed, through no fault of our own, in a very disagreeable +position. You will know the whole story some day, but for the present my +lips are sealed. International complications might arise if the truth +leaked out prematurely." Cyril felt that the last was a neat touch, for +the woman's face cleared and she repeated in an awe-struck voice: +"International complications!" + +"Germany! I can say no more," added Cyril in a stage whisper. + +"Ah! The wretches!" cried the nurse. "One never knows what they will be +at next. Of course I will help you. I ought to have known at once that +it was sure to be all right. Any one can see that you are a gentleman--a +soldier, I dare say?" + +"Never mind who or what I am. It is better that you should be able +truthfully to plead your complete ignorance. Now as to the uniform; have +you one to spare?" + +"Yes, indeed. I will go and get it immediately." + +"All this mystery frightens me," exclaimed Priscilla as soon as they +were alone. + +"You must be brave. Now listen attentively to what I am saying. On +leaving here----" + +"Oh, aren't you going with me?" she asked. + +"No, we must not be seen together, but I will join you later." + +"You will not leave me alone again?" + +"Not for long." + +"Promise." + +"I promise." + +"Very well, now tell me what I am to do." + +"On leaving this house you are to turn to your right and walk down the +street till you see a taxi with a box on it. A friend of mine, Guy +Campbell, will be inside. You can easily recognise him; he has red hair. +Campbell will drive you to a hotel where a lady is waiting for you and +where you are to stay till I can join you. If there should be any hitch +in these arrangements, go to this address and send a telegram to me at +the club. I have written all this down," he said, handing her a folded +paper. + +The nurse returned with her arms full of clothes. + +"Have you a thick veil?" asked Cyril. + +"There is a long one attached to the bonnet, but we never pull it over +our faces, and I am afraid if Mrs. Thompkins did so, it would attract +attention." + +"Yet something must be done to conceal her face." + +The nurse thought for a moment. + +"Leave that to me, sir. I used to help in private theatricals once upon +a time." + +"That is splendid! I will go downstairs now and wait till you have got +Mrs. Thompkins ready." + +"Give me a quarter of an hour and you will be astonished at the result." +She seemed to have thrown her whole heart into the business. + +When Cyril returned, he found Priscilla really transformed. Her yellow +curls had been plastered down on either side of her forehead. A pair of +tinted spectacles dimmed the brilliancy of her eyes and her dark, +finely-arched eyebrows had been rendered almost imperceptible by a +skilful application of grease and powder. With a burnt match the nurse +had drawn a few faint lines in the girlish face, so that she looked at +least ten years older, and all this artifice was made to appear natural +by means of a dingy, black net veil. A nurse's costume completed the +disguise. + +"You have done winders, nurse. I can't thank you enough," he exclaimed. + +"Don't I look a fright?" cried Priscilla a little ruefully. + +"No, you don't. That is just where the art comes in. You are not +noticeable one way or the other. It is admirable. And now you had better +be going." + +The nurse peered into the hall. + +"There is no one about just now. I will take Mrs. Thompkins to the front +door. If we are seen, it will be supposed that she is some friend of +mine who has been calling on me. I will watch till I see her safely in +the car," the nurse assured him. + +"Thanks." + +"By the way, as I have to pretend not to know of my patient's departure, +I had better not return till you have left." + +"All right. Good-bye, nurse. I shall stay here a quarter of an hour so +as to give you a good start. Good-bye, my dear." + +The next fifteen minutes seemed to Cyril the longest he had ever spent. +He did not even dare to follow Priscilla's progress from the window. +Watch in hand he waited till the time was up and then made his way +cautiously out of the house without, as luck would have it, encountering +any one. + +The taxi was no longer in sight! With a light heart Cyril walked briskly +to the doctor's office. + +"Well, Lord Wilmersley, what brings you here?" asked the doctor, when +Cyril was finally ushered into the august presence. + +"I have called to tell you that my wife has left the nursing home," +Cyril blurted out. + +"Impossible!" cried the doctor. "She was quite calm this morning. The +nurse would----" + +"The nurse had nothing to do with it," interrupted Cyril hastily. "It +was I who took her away." + +"You? But why this haste? I thought you had decided to wait till +to-morrow." + +"For family reasons, which I need not go into now, I thought it best +that she should be removed at once." + +"And may I know where she is?" inquired the doctor, looking searchingly +at Cyril. + +"I intend to take her to Geralton--in--in a few days." + +"Indeed!" The doctor's upper lip lengthened perceptibly. + +"So you do not wish me to know where you have hidden her." + +"Hidden her?" Cyril raised his eyebrows deprecatingly. "That is a +strange expression to use. It seems to me that a man has certainly the +right to withhold his wife's address from a comparative stranger without +being accused of hiding her. You should really choose your words more +carefully, my dear sir." + +The doctor glared at Cyril for a moment, then rising abruptly he paced +the room several times. + +"It's no use," he said at last, stopping in front of Cyril. "You can't +persuade me that there is not some mystery connected with Lady +Wilmersley. And I warn you that I have determined to find out the +truth." + +Cyril's heart gave an uncomfortable jump, but he managed to keep his +face impassive. + +"A mystery? What an amusing idea! A man of your imagination is really +wasted in the medical profession. You should write, my dear doctor, you +really should. But, granting for the sake of argument that I have +something to conceal, what right have you to try to force my confidence? +My wife's movements are surely no concern of yours." + +"One has not only the right, but it becomes one's obvious duty to +interfere, when one has reason to believe that by doing so one may +prevent the ill-treatment of a helpless woman." + +"Do you really think I ill-treat my wife?" + +"I think it is possible. And till I am sure that my fears are unfounded, +I will not consent to Lady Wilmersley's remaining in your sole care." + +"Do you mind telling me what basis you have for such a monstrous +suspicion?" asked Cyril very quietly. + +"Certainly. You bring me a young lady who has been flogged. You tell me +that she is your wife, yet you profess to know nothing of her injuries +and give an explanation which, although not impossible, is at all events +highly improbable. This lady, who is not only beautiful but charming, +you neglect in the most astonishing manner. No, I am not forgetting that +you had other pressing duties to attend to, but even so, if you had +cared for your wife, you could not have remained away from her as you +did. It was nothing less than heartless to leave a poor young woman, in +the state she was in, alone among strangers. Your letter only partially +satisfied me. Your arguments would have seemed to me perfectly +unconvincing, if I had not been so anxious to believe the best. As it +was, although I tried to ignore it, a root of suspicion still lingered +in my mind. Then, when you finally do turn up, instead of hurrying to +your wife's bedside you try in every way to avoid meeting her till at +last I have to insist upon your doing so. I tell you, that if she had +not shown such marked affection for you, I should have had no doubt of +your guilt." + +"Nonsense! Do I look like a wife-beater?" + +"No, but the only murderess I ever knew looked like one of Raphael's +Madonnas." + +"Thanks for the implication." Cyril bowed sarcastically. + +"The more I observed Mrs. Thompkins," continued the doctor, "the more I +became convinced that a severe shock was responsible for her amnesia, +and that she had never been insane nor was she at all likely to become +so." + +"Even physicians are occasionally mistaken in their diagnosis, I have +been told." + +"You are right; that is why I have given you the benefit of the doubt," +replied the doctor calmly. "This morning, however, I made a discovery, +which practically proves that my suspicions were not unfounded." + +"And pray what is this great discovery of yours?" drawled Cyril. + +"I had been worrying about this case all night, when it suddenly +occurred to me to consult the peerage. I wanted to find out who Lady +Wilmersley's people were, so that I might communicate with them if I +considered it necessary. The first thing I found was that your wife was +born in 18--, so that now she is in her twenty-eighth year. My patient +is certainly not more than twenty. How do you account for this +discrepancy in their ages?" + +Cyril forced himself to smile superciliously. + +"And is my wife's youthful appearance your only reason for doubting her +identity?" + +The doctor seemed a little staggered by Cyril's nonchalant manner. + +"It is my chief reason, but as I have just taken the trouble to explain, +not my only one." + +"Oh, really! And if she is not my wife, whom do you suspect her of +being?" + +"I have no idea." + +"You astonish me." In trying to conceal his agitation Cyril +unfortunately assumed an air of frigid detachment, which only served to +exasperate the doctor still further. + +"Your manner is insulting, my lord." + +"Your suspicions are so flattering!" drawled Cyril. + +The doctor glared at Cyril for a moment but seemed at a loss for a +crushing reply. + +"You must acknowledge that appearances are against you," he said at +last, making a valiant effort to control his temper. "If you are a man +of honour, you ought to appreciate that my position is a very difficult +one and to be as ready to forgive me, if I have erred through excessive +zeal, as I shall be to apologise to you. Now let me ask you one more +question. Why were you so anxious that I should not see the jewels?" + +"Oh, had you not seen them? I thought, of course, that you had. I +apologise for not having satisfied your curiosity." + +There was a short pause during which the doctor looked long and +searchingly at Cyril. + +"I can't help it. I feel that there is something fishy about this +business. You can't convince me to the contrary." + +"I was not aware that I was trying to do so." + +The doctor almost danced with rage. + +"Lord Wilmersley--for I suppose you are Lord Wilmersley?" + +"Unless I am his valet, Peter Thompkins." + +"I know nothing about you," cried the doctor, "and you have succeeded to +your title under very peculiar circumstances, my lord." + +"So you suspect me not only of flogging my wife but of murdering my +cousin!" laughed Cyril. "My dear doctor, don't you realise that if there +were the slightest grounds for your suspicions, the police would have +put me under surveillance long ago. Why, I can easily prove that I was +in Paris at the time of the murder." + +"Oh, you are clever! I don't doubt that you have an impeccable alibi. +But if I informed the police that you were passing off as your wife a +girl several years younger than Lady Wilmersley, a girl, moreover, who, +you acknowledged, joined you at Newhaven the very morning after the +murder--if I told them that this young lady had in her possession a +remarkable number of jewels, which she carried in a cheap, black +bag--what do you think they would say to that, my lord?" + +Cyril felt cold chills creeping down his back and the palms of his hands +grew moist. Not a flicker of an eyelash, however, betrayed his inward +tumult. "They would no doubt pay as high a tribute to your imagination +as I do," he answered. + +Then, abandoning his careless pose, he sat up in his chair. + +"You have been insulting me for the last half-hour, and I have borne it +very patiently, partly because your absurd suspicions amused me, and +partly because I realised that, although you are a fool, you are an +honest fool." + +"Sir!" The doctor turned purple in the face. + +"You can hardly resent being called a fool by a man you have been +accusing of murder and wife-beating. But I don't want you to go to the +police with this cock-and-bull story----" + +"Ah! I thought not," sneered the doctor. + +"Because," continued Cyril, ignoring the interruption, "I want to +protect my wife from unpleasant notoriety, and also, although you don't +deserve it, to keep you from becoming a public laughing stock. So far +you have done all the talking; now you are to listen to me. Sit down. +You make me nervous strutting about like that. Sit down, I tell you. +There, that's better. Now let us see what all this rigmarole really +amounts to. You began by asking for my wife's address, and when I did +not immediately gratify what I considered your impertinent curiosity, +you launch forth into vague threats of exposure. As far as I can make +out from your disjointed harangue, your excuse for prying into my +affairs is that by doing so you are protecting a helpless woman from +further ill-treatment. Very well. Granting that you really suppose me to +be a brute, your behaviour might be perfectly justified if--if you +believed that your patient is my wife. But you tell me that you do not. +You think that she is either my mistress or my accomplice, or both. Now, +if she is a criminal and an immoral woman, you must admit that she has +shown extraordinary cleverness, inasmuch as she succeeded not only in +eluding the police but in deceiving you. For the impression she made on +you was a very favourable one, was it not? She seemed to you unusually +innocent as well as absolutely frank, didn't she?" + +"Yes," acknowledged the doctor. + +"Now, if she was able to dupe so trained an observer as yourself, she +must be a remarkable woman, and cannot be the helpless creature you +picture her, and consequently would be in no danger of being forced to +submit to abuse from any one." + +"True," murmured the doctor. + +"But I think I can prove to you that you were not mistaken in your first +estimate of her character. This illness of hers--was it real or could it +have been feigned?" + +"It was real. There is no doubt about that." + +"You saw her when she was only semi-conscious, when she was physically +incapable of acting a part--did she during that time, either by word or +look, betray moral perversity?" + +"She did not." The doctor's anger had abated and he was listening to +Cyril intently. + +"How, then, can you doubt her? And if she is what she seems, she is +certainly neither my mistress nor a thief; and if she is not the one nor +the other, she must be my wife, and if you go to the police with your +absurd suspicions, you will only succeed in making yourself ridiculous." + +There was a pause during which the two men eyed each other keenly. + +"You make a great point of the fact that my wife had in her possession a +number of valuable ornaments," continued Cyril. "But why should she not? +My wife insisted on having all her jewelry with her at Charleroi, and +when she escaped from there, they were among the few things she took +with her. The excitement of meeting her so unexpectedly and her sudden +illness made me forget all about them, otherwise I would have taken them +out of the bag, which, as you may have noticed, was not even locked. But +the very fact that I did forget all about them and allowed them to pass +through the hands of nurses and servants, that alone ought to convince +you that I did not come by them dishonestly. You had them for days in +your possession; yet you accuse me of having prevented you from +examining them. That is really ridiculous! Your whole case against me is +built on the wildest conjectures, from which you proceed to draw +perfectly untenable inferences. My wife looks young for her age, I grant +you; but even you would not venture to swear positively that she is not +twenty-eight. You fancied that I neglected her; consequently I am a +brute. She is sane now; so you believe that she has never been +otherwise. You imagined that I did not wish you to examine the contents +of my wife's bag, therefore the Wilmersley jewels must have been in it." + +"What you say sounds plausible enough," acknowledged the doctor, "and it +seems impossible to associate you with anything cruel, mean, or even +underhand, and yet--and yet--I have an unaccountable feeling that you +are not telling me the truth. When I try to analyse my impressions, I +find that I distrust not you but your story. You have, however, +convinced me that I have no logical basis for my suspicions. That being +the case, I shall do nothing for the present. But, if at the end of a +fortnight I do not hear that Lady Wilmersley has arrived in England, and +has taken her place in the world, then I shall believe that my instinct +has not been at fault, and shall do my best to find out what has become +of her, even at the risk of creating a scandal or of being laughed at +for my pains. But I don't care, I shall feel that I have done my duty. +In the meantime I shall write to Dr. Monet. Now I have given you a fair +warning, which you can act on as you see fit." + +What an unerring scent the man had for falsehood, thought Cyril with +unwilling admiration. It was really wonderful the way he disregarded +probabilities and turned a deaf ear to reason. He was a big man, Cyril +grudgingly admitted. + +"I suppose you will not believe me if I tell you that I have no personal +animosity toward you, Lord Wilmersley?" + +"I know that. And some day we'll laugh over this episode together," +replied Cyril, with a heartiness which surprised himself. + +"Now that is nice of you," cried the doctor. "My temper is rather hasty, +I am sorry to say, and though I don't remember all I said just now, I am +sure, I was unnecessarily disagreeable." + +"Well, I called you a fool," grinned Cyril. + +"So you did, so you did, and may I live to acknowledge that I richly +deserve the appellation." + +And so their interview terminated with unexpected friendliness. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +CAMPBELL REMONSTRATES + + +In his note to Guy, Cyril had asked the latter to join him at his club +as soon as he had left Priscilla at the hotel, and so when the time +passed and his friend neither came nor telephoned, Cyril's anxiety knew +no bounds. + +What could have happened? thought Cyril. Had Priscilla been arrested? In +that case, however, Guy would surely have communicated with him at once, +for the police could have had no excuse for detaining the latter. + +Several acquaintances he had not seen for years greeted him cordially, +but he met their advances so half-heartedly that they soon left him to +himself, firmly convinced that the title had turned his head. Only one, +an old friend of his father's, refused to be shaken off and sat prosing +away quite oblivious of his listener's preoccupation till the words +"your wife" arrested Cyril's wandering attention. + +"Yes," the Colonel was saying, "too bad that you should have this added +worry just now. Taken ill on the train, too--most awkward." + +Cyril was so startled that he could only repeat idiotically: "My wife?" + +"Am I wrong?" exclaimed the Colonel, evidently at a loss to understand +Cyril's perturbation. "Your wife is in town, isn't she, and ill?" + +What should he answer? He dared not risk a denial. + +"Who told you that she was ill?" he asked. + +"It was in the morning papers. Didn't you see it?" + +"In the papers!" + +Cyril realised at once that he ought to have foreseen that this was +bound to have occurred. Too many people knew the story for it not to +have leaked out eventually. + +"I have not had time to read them to-day," replied Cyril as soon as he +was able to collect his wits a little. "What did they say?" + +"Only that your wife had been prostrated by the shock of Wilmersley's +murder, and had to be removed from the train to a nursing home." + +"It's a bore that it got into the papers. My wife is only suffering from +a slight indisposition and will be all right in a day or two," Cyril +hastened to assure him. + +"Glad to hear it. I must meet her. Where is she staying at present?" + +"She--she is still at the nursing home--but she is leaving there +to-morrow." Then fearing that more questions were impending, Cyril +seized the Colonel's hand and shaking it vehemently exclaimed: "I must +write some letters. So glad to have had this chat with you," and without +giving the Colonel time to answer, he fled from the room. + +Cyril looked at his watch. Ten minutes to three! Guy must have met with +an accident. Suddenly an alarming possibility occurred to him,--what if +the police had traced the jewels to Campbell? The bag, which had +disappeared, must have been taken by them. Griggs, when he inquired so +innocently about "Lady Wilmersley," had been fully cognisant of the +girl's identity. What was to be done now? He could not remain passive +and await developments. He must--was that--could that be Campbell +sauntering so leisurely toward him? Indeed it was! + +"What has happened?" asked Cyril in a hoarse whisper, dragging his +friend into a secluded corner. "Tell me at once." + +"Nothing, my dear boy. I am afraid I kept you waiting longer than I +intended to. I hope you have not been anxious?" Guy seemed, however, +quite unconcerned. + +"Anxious!" exclaimed Cyril indignantly. "Well, rather! How could you +have kept me in such suspense? Why didn't you come to me at once on +leaving Miss Prentice?" + +"But I did. I have just left her." + +"And she is really all right? The governess, Miss What's her name, is +with her?" + +"Certainly. But I didn't want to leave Mrs. Thompkins alone with a +stranger in a strange place, so I stayed and lunched with them." + +Cyril almost choked with rage. _He_ had had no lunch at all. He had been +too upset to think of such a thing and all the time they--oh! It was too +abominable! Campbell was a selfish little brute. He would never forgive +him, thought Cyril, scowling down at the complacent offender. For he was +complacent, that was the worst of it. From the top of his sleek, red +head to the tips of his immaculate boots, he radiated a triumphant +self-satisfaction. What was the matter with the man? wondered Cyril. He +seemed indefinably changed. There was a jauntiness about him--a light in +his eyes which Cyril did not remember to have noticed before. And what +was the meaning of those two violets drooping so sentimentally in his +buttonhole? Cyril stared at the flowers as if hypnotised. + +"So you liked Miss Prentice?" he managed to say, controlling himself +with an effort. + +"Rather! But I say, Cyril, it's all rot about her being that Prentice +woman." + +"Ah, you think so?" + +"I don't think--I know. Why, she speaks French like a native." + +"How did you find that out?" asked Cyril, forgetting his indignation in +his surprise at this new development. + +"We had a duffer of a waiter who understood very little English, so Mrs. +Thompkins spoke to him in French, and such French! It sounded like the +real thing." + +Cyril was dumfounded. How could a girl brought up in a small inland +village, which she had left only six months before, have learnt French? +And then he remembered that the doctor had told him that she had +retained a dim recollection of Paris. Why had the significance of that +fact not struck him before? + +"But if she is not Priscilla Prentice, who on earth can she be? She +can't be Anita Wilmersley!" he exclaimed. + +"Of course not. She--she--" Guy paused at a loss for a suggestion. + +"And yet, if she is not the sempstress, she must be Anita!" + +"Why?" + +"Because of the jewels in her bag." + +"I don't believe they are the Wilmersley jewels----" + +"There is no doubt as to that. I have the list somewhere and you can +easily verify it." + +"Then the bag is not hers. It may have been left in the seat by some one +else." + +"She opened it in my presence." + +"But you proved to me last night that she could not be Lady Wilmersley," +insisted Guy. + +"So I did. Anita has masses of bright, yellow hair. This girl's hair is +dark." + +"Well, then----" + +"There seems no possible explanation to the enigma," acknowledged Cyril. + +"Perhaps she wore a wig." + +"She did not. When she fainted I loosened her veil and a strand of her +hair caught in my fingers. It was her own, I can swear to that." + +"She may have dyed it." + +"I never thought of that," exclaimed Cyril. "No, I don't think she could +have had time to dye it. It takes hours, I believe. At nine, when she +was last seen, she had made no attempt to alter her appearance. Now +Wilmersley was----" + +"Hold on," cried Guy. "You told me, did you not, that she had cut off +her hair because it had turned white?" + +"Yes," assented Cyril. + +"Very well, then, that disposes of the possibility of its having been +dyed." + +"So it does. And yet, she carried the Wilmersley jewels, that is a fact +we must not forget." + +"Then she must be a hitherto unsuspected factor in the case." + +"Possibly, and yet---" + +"Yet what?" + +"I confess I have no other solution to offer. Oh, by the way, what is +the number of her room?" + +Guy stiffened perceptibly. + +"I don't think I remember it." + +"How annoying! I particularly asked you to make a note of it!" + +"Oh, did you?" Guy's face was averted and he toyed nervously with his +eye-glass. + +"Of course I did. You must realise--in fact we discussed it +together--that I must be able to see her." + +"As there is nothing that you can do for her, why should you compromise +her still further?" + +"What do you mean?" + +"I mean that you ought not to take further advantage of her peculiar +affliction so as to play the part of a devoted husband." + +"This is outrageous--" began Cyril, but Campbell cut him short. + +"While you fancied that she was in need of your assistance, I grant that +there was some excuse for your conduct, but to continue the farce any +longer would be positively dishonourable." + +Cyril was so surprised at Campbell's belligerent tone that for a moment +it rendered him speechless. From a boy Guy had always been his humble +admirer. What could have wrought this sudden change in him? wondered +Cyril. Again his eyes lingered on the violets. It was not possible! And +yet Cyril had often suspected that under Guy's obvious shrewdness there +lurked a vein of romanticism. And as Cyril surveyed his friend, his +wrath slowly cooled. For the first time it occurred to him that +Campbell's almost comic exterior must be a real grief to a man of his +temperament. His own appearance had always seemed to Cyril such a +negligible quantity that he shrank from formulating even in his own mind +the reason why he felt that it would be absurd to fear Guy as a rival. A +man who is not to be feared is a man to be pitied, and it was this +unacknowledged pity, together with a sudden suspicion of the possible +tragedy of his friend's life, which allayed Cyril's indignation and made +him finally reply gently: + +"I think you are mistaken. I am sure she still needs me." + +"She does not. Miss Trevor and I are quite able to look after her." + +"I don't doubt your goodwill, my dear Guy, but what about her feelings?" + +"Feelings! I like that! Do you fancy that her feelings are concerned? Do +you imagine that she will be inconsolable at your absence?" + +"You appear to forget that she believes me to be her husband. Her +pride--her vanity will be hurt if I appear to neglect her." Cyril still +spoke very quietly. + +"Then I will tell her the truth at once," exclaimed Campbell. + +"And risk the recurrence of her illness? Remember the doctor insisted +that she must on no account be agitated." + +"Why should it agitate her to be told that you are not her husband? I +should think it would be a jolly sight more agitating to believe one's +self bound to a perfect stranger. It is a wonder it has not driven the +poor child crazy." + +"Luckily she took the sad news very calmly," Cyril could not refrain +from remarking. Really, Guy was intolerable and he longed with a +primitive longing to punch his head. But he had to control himself. Guy +was capable of being nasty, if not handled carefully. So he hastily +continued: + +"How can you undeceive her on one point without explaining the whole +situation to her?" + +"I--" began Guy, "I--" He paused. + +"Exactly. Even you have no solution to offer. Even you have to +acknowledge that the relief of knowing that she is not my wife might be +offset by learning not only that we are quite in the dark as to who she +is, but that at any moment she may be arrested on a charge of murder." + +"I don't know what to do!" murmured Guy helplessly. + +"Do nothing for the present." + +"Nothing!" exclaimed Guy. "Nothing! And leave you to insinuate yourself +into her--affections! She must be told the truth some day, but by that +time she may have grown to--to--love you." Guy gulped painfully over the +word. "You are a married man. That fact evidently seems 'too trifling' +to be considered, but I fancy she will not regard it as casually as you +do." + +"This is absurd," began Cyril, but Guy intercepted him. + +"You feel free to do as you please because you expect to get a divorce, +but you have not got it yet, remember, and in the meantime your wife may +bring a countersuit, naming Miss--Mrs. Thompkins as corespondent." + +This suggestion staggered Cyril for a moment. + +"And in that case," continued Campbell, "she would probably think that +she ought to marry you. After having been dragged through the filth of a +divorce court, she would imagine herself too besmirched to give herself +to any other man. And your wealth, your title, and your precious self +may not seem to her as desirable as you suppose. She is the sort of girl +who would think them a poor exchange for the loss of her reputation and +her liberty of choice. When she discovers how you have compromised her +by your asinine stupidity, I don't fancy that she will take a lenient +view of your conduct." + +"You seem to forget that if I had not shielded her with my name, she +would undoubtedly have been arrested on the train." + +"Oh, I don't doubt you meant well." + +"Thanks," murmured Cyril sarcastically. + +"All I say is that you must not see her again till this mystery is +cleared up. I didn't forget about the number of her apartment, but I +wasn't going to help you to sneak in to her at all hours. Now, if you +want to see her, you will have to go boldly up to the hotel and have +yourself properly announced. And I don't think you will care about +that." + +"I promised to see her. I shall not break my word." + +"I don't care a fig for your promises. You shan't see her as long as she +believes you to be her husband." + +Luckily the room was empty, for both men had risen to their feet. + +"I shall see her," repeated Cyril. + +"If you do, I warn you that I shall tell her the truth and risk the +consequences. She shall not, if I can help it, be placed in a position +where she will be forced to marry a man who has, after all, lived his +life. She ought--" Guy paused abruptly. + +"She ought, in other words, to be given the choice between my battered +heart and your virgin affections. Is that it?" + +"I mean----" + +"Oh, you have made your meaning quite clear, I assure you!" interrupted +Cyril. "But what you have been saying is sheer nonsense. You have been +calling me to account for things that have not happened, and blaming me +for what I have not done. She is not being dragged through the divorce +court, and I see no reason to suppose that she ever will be. I am not +trying to force her to marry me, and can promise that I shall never do +so. Far from taking advantage of the situation, I assure you my conduct +has been most circumspect. Don't cross a bridge till you get to it, and +don't accuse a man of being a cad just because--" Cyril paused abruptly +and looked at Guy, and as he did so, his expression slowly relaxed till +he finally smiled indulgently--"just because a certain lady is very +charming," he added. + +But Guy was not to be pacified. He would neither retract nor modify his +ultimatum. He knew, of course, that Cyril would not dare to write the +girl; for if the letter miscarried or was found by the police, it might +be fatal to both. + +But while they were still heatedly debating the question, a way suddenly +occurred to Cyril by which he could communicate with her with absolute +safety. So he waited placidly for Guy to take himself off, which he +eventually did, visibly elated at having, as he thought, effectually put +a stop to further intercourse between the two. He had hardly left the +club, however, before Cyril was talking to Priscilla over the telephone! +He explained to her as best he could that he had been called out of town +for a few days, and begged her on no account to leave her apartments +till he returned. He also tried to impress on her that she had better +talk about him as little as possible and above all things not to mention +either to Campbell or Miss Trevor that she had heard from him and +expected to see him before long. + +It cost Cyril a tremendous effort to restrict himself to necessary +instructions and polite inquiries, especially as she kept begging him to +come back to her as soon as possible. Finally he could bear the strain +no longer, and in the middle of a sentence he resolutely hung up the +receiver. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +WHAT IS THE TRUTH? + + +When Cyril arrived in Newhaven that evening, he was unpleasantly +surprised to find, as he got out of the train, that Judson had been +travelling in the adjoining compartment. Had the man been following him, +or was it simply chance that had brought them together, he wondered. Oh! +If he could only get rid of the fellow! + +"You have come to see me, I suppose," he remarked ungraciously. + +"Yes, my lord." + +"Very well, then, get into the car." + +Cyril was in no mood to talk, so the first part of the way was +accomplished in silence, but at last, thinking that he might as well +hear what the man had to say, he turned to him and asked: + +"Have you found out anything of any importance?" + +"I fancy so, my lord." + +"Really! Well, what is it?" + +"If you will excuse me, my lord, I should suggest that we wait till we +get to the castle," replied Judson, casting a meaning look at the +chauffeur's back. + +"Just as you please." His contempt for Judson was so great that Cyril +was not very curious to hear his revelations. + +"Now," said Cyril, as he flung himself into a low chair before the +library fire, "what have you to tell me?" + +Before answering Judson peered cautiously around; then, drawing forward +a straight-backed chair, he seated himself close to Cyril and folded his +hands in his lap. + +"In dealing with my clients," he began, "I make it a rule instead of +simply stating the results of my work to show them how I arrive at my +conclusions. Having submitted to them all the facts I have collected, +they are able to judge for themselves as to the value of the evidence on +which my deductions are based. And so, my lord, I should like to go over +the whole case with you from the very beginning." + +Cyril gave a grunt which Judson evidently construed into an assent, for +he continued even more glibly: + +"The first point I considered was, whether her Ladyship had premeditated +her escape. But in order to determine this, we must first decide whom +she could have got to help her to accomplish such a purpose. The most +careful inquiry has failed to reveal any one who would have been both +willing and able to do so, except the sempstress, and as both mistress +and maid disappeared almost simultaneously, one's first impulse is to +take it for granted that Prentice was her Ladyship's accomplice. This is +what every one, Scotland Yard included, believes." + +"And you do not?" + +"Before either accepting or rejecting this theory, I decided to visit +this girl's home. I did not feel clear in my mind about her. All the +servants were impressed by her manner and personality, the butler +especially so, and he more than hinted that there must be some mystery +attached to her. One of the things that stimulated their curiosity was +that she kept up a daily correspondence with some one in Plumtree. On +reaching the village I called at once on the vicar. He is an elderly +man, much respected and beloved by his parishioners. I found him in a +state of great excitement, having just read in the paper of Prentice's +disappearance. I had no difficulty in inducing him to tell me the main +facts of her history; the rest I picked up from the village gossips. The +girl is a foundling. And till she came to Geralton she was an inmate of +the vicar's household. He told me that he would have adopted her, but +knowing that he had not sufficient means to provide for her future, he +wisely refrained from educating her above her station. Nevertheless, I +gathered that the privilege of his frequent companionship had refined +her speech and manners, and I am told that she now could pass muster in +any drawing-room." + +"Did she ever learn French?" interrupted Cyril, eagerly. + +"Not that I know of, and I do not believe the vicar would have taught +her an accomplishment so useless to one in her position." + +"Did she ever go to France?" + +"Never. But, why do you ask?" + +"No matter--I--but go on with your story." + +"Owing partly to the mystery which surrounded her birth and gave rise to +all sorts of rumours, and partly to her own personality, the gentry of +the neighbourhood made quite a pet of her. As a child she was asked +occasionally to play with the Squire's crippled daughter and later she +used to go to the Hall three times a week to read aloud to her. So, +notwithstanding the vicar's good intentions, she grew up to be neither +'fish, flesh, fowl, nor good red herring.' Now all went well till about +a year ago, when the Squire's eldest son returned home and fell in love +with her. His people naturally opposed the match and, as he is entirely +dependent upon them, there seemed no possibility of his marrying her. +The girl appeared broken-hearted, and when she came to the castle, every +one, the vicar included, thought the affair at an end. I am sure, +however, that such was not the case, for as no one at the vicarage wrote +to her daily, the letters she received must have come from her young +man. Furthermore, she told the servants that she had a cousin in +Newhaven, but as she has not a relative in the world, this is obviously +a falsehood. Who, then, is this mysterious person she visited? It seems +to me almost certain that it was her lover." + +"Possibly," agreed Cyril. "But I don't quite see what you are trying to +prove by all this. If Prentice did not help her Ladyship to escape, who +did?" + +"I have not said that Prentice is not a factor in the case, only I +believe her part to have been a very subordinate one. Of one thing, +however, I am sure, and that is that she did not return to Geralton on +the night of the murder." + +"How can you be sure of that?" demanded Cyril. + +"Because she asked for permission early in the morning to spend the +night in Newhaven and had already left the castle before the doctors' +visit terminated. Now, although I think it probable that her Ladyship +may for a long time have entertained the idea of leaving Geralton, yet I +believe that it was the doctors' visit that gave the necessary impetus +to convert her idle longing into definite action. Therefore I conclude +that Prentice could have had no knowledge of her mistress's sudden +flight." + +"But how can you know that the whole thing had not been carefully +premeditated?" + +"Because her Ladyship showed such agitation and distress at hearing the +doctors' verdict. If her plans for leaving the castle had been +completed, she would have accepted the situation more calmly." + +"Has nothing been heard of these doctors?" + +"Nothing. We have been able to trace them only as far as London. They +could not have been reputable physicians or they would have answered our +advertisements, and so I am inclined to believe that you were right and +that it was his Lordship who spread the rumours of her Ladyship's +insanity." + +"I am sure of it," said Cyril. + +"Very good. Assuming, therefore, that Lady Wilmersley is sane, we will +proceed to draw logical inferences from her actions." Judson paused a +moment before continuing: "Now I am convinced that the only connection +Prentice had with the affair was to procure some clothes for her +mistress, and these had probably been sometime in the latter's +possession." + +"H'm!" ejaculated Cyril sceptically. "I think it would have been pretty +difficult to have concealed anything from that maid of hers." + +"Difficult, I grant you, but not impossible, my lord." + +"But if Prentice had no knowledge of the tragedy, why did she not return +to the castle? What has become of her? Why have the police been unable +to find her?" + +"I believe that she joined her lover and that they are together on the +continent, for in Plumtree I was told that the young man had recently +gone to Paris. As I am sure that she knows nothing of any importance, I +thought it useless to waste time and money trying to discover their +exact locality. That the police have not succeeded in finding her, I +ascribe to the fact that they are looking for a young woman who left +Newhaven after and not before the murder." + +"You think she left before?" + +"Yes, and I have two reasons for this supposition. First, I can discover +no place where he or she, either separately or together, could have +spent the night. Secondly, if they had left Newhaven the following +morning or in fact at any time after the murder, they would certainly +have been apprehended, as all the boats and trains were most carefully +watched." + +"But no one knew of her disappearance till twenty-four hours later, and +during that interval she could easily have got away unobserved." + +"No, my lord, there you are mistaken. From the moment that the police +were notified that a crime had been committed, every one, especially +every woman, who left Newhaven was most attentively scrutinised." + +"You are certain that Prentice could not have left Newhaven unnoticed, +yet her Ladyship managed to do so! How do you account for that?" + +The detective paused a moment and looked fixedly at Cyril. + +"Her Ladyship had a very powerful protector, my lord," he finally said. + +"A protector! Who?" + +Again the detective did not reply immediately. + +"It's no use beating about the bush, my lord, I know everything." + +"Well then, out with it," cried Cyril impatiently. "What are you +hesitating for? Have you found her Ladyship or have you not?" + +"I have, my lord." + +"You have! Then why on earth didn't you tell me at once? Where is she?" +cried Cyril. + +There was a pause during which the detective regarded Cyril through +narrowed lids. + +"She is at present at the nursing home of Dr. Stuart-Smith," he said at +last. + +"Nonsense!" exclaimed Cyril, sinking back into his chair and negligently +lighting another cigarette. "I thought you had discovered something. You +mean my wife, Lady Wilmersley----" + +"Pardon me for interrupting you, my lord. I don't make mistakes like +that. I repeat, the Dowager Lady Wilmersley is under the care of Dr. +Smith." + +The man's tone was so assured that Cyril was staggered for a moment. + +"It isn't true," he asserted angrily. + +"Is it possible that you really do not know who the lady is that you +rescued that day from the police?" exclaimed the detective, startled out +of his habitual impassivity. + +"I confess that I do not. But of one thing I am sure, and that is that +she is not the person you suppose." + +"Well, my lord, I must say that you have surprised me. Yet I ought to +have guessed it. It was stupid of me, very." + +"I tell you that you are on the wrong track. Lady Wilmersley has golden +hair. Well, this lady's hair is black." + +"She has dyed it." + +"She has not, for it has turned completely white," exclaimed Cyril, +triumphantly. + +"Did she tell you so?" + +"Yes." + +"Her Ladyship is cleverer than I supposed," remarked the detective with +a pitying smile. + +"I am not such a fool as you seem to think," retorted Cyril. "And I can +assure you that the lady in question is incapable of deception." + +"All I can say is, my lord, that I am absolutely sure of her Ladyship's +identity and that you yourself gave me the clue to her whereabouts." + +"I--how?" + +"I of course noticed that when you heard her Ladyship had golden hair, +you were not only extremely surprised but also very much relieved. I at +once asked myself why such an apparently trivial matter should have so +great and so peculiar an effect on you. As you had never seen her +Ladyship, I argued that you must that very day have met some one you had +reason to suppose to be Lady Wilmersley and that this person had dark +hair. By following your movements from the time you landed I found that +the only woman with whom you had come in contact was a young lady who +had joined you in Newhaven, and that she answered to the description of +Lady Wilmersley in every particular, with the sole exception that she +had dark hair! I was, however, told that you had said that she was your +wife and had produced a passport to prove it. Now I had heard from your +valet that her Ladyship was still in France, so you can hardly blame me +for doubting the correctness of your statement. But in order to make +assurance doubly sure, I sent one of my men to the continent. He +reported that her Ladyship had for some months been a patient at +Charleroi, but had recently escaped from there, and that you are still +employing detectives to find her." + +"I did not engage you to pry into my affairs," exclaimed Cyril savagely. + +"Nor have I exceeded my duty as I conceive it," retorted the detective. +"As your Lordship refused to honour me with your confidence, I had to +find out the facts by other means; and you must surely realise that +without facts it is impossible for me to construct a theory, and till I +can do that my work is practically valueless." + +"But my wife has nothing to do with the case." + +"Quite so, my lord, but a lady who claimed to be her Ladyship is +intimately concerned with it." + +"I repeat that is all nonsense." + +"If your Lordship will listen to me, I think I can prove to you that as +far as the lady's identity is concerned, I have made no mistake. But to +do this convincingly, I must reconstruct the tragedy as I conceive that +it happened." + +"Go ahead; I don't mind hearing your theory." + +"First, I must ask you to take it for granted that I am right in +believing that Prentice was ignorant of her Ladyship's flight." + +"I will admit that much," agreed Cyril. + +"Thank you, my lord. Now let us try and imagine exactly what was her +Ladyship's position on the night of the murder. Her first care must have +been to devise some means of eluding his Lordship's vigilance. This was +a difficult problem, for Mustapha tells me that his Lordship was not +only a very light sleeper but that he suffered from chronic insomnia. +You may or may not know that his Lordship had long been addicted to the +opium habit and would sometimes for days together lie in a stupor. Large +quantities of the drug were found in his room and that explains how her +Ladyship managed to get hold of the opium with which she doctored his +Lordship's coffee." + +"This is, however, mere supposition on your part," objected Cyril. + +"Not at all, my lord. I had the sediment of the two cups analysed and +the chemist found that one of them contained a small quantity of opium. +Her Ladyship, being practically ignorant as to the exact nature of the +drug and of the effect it would have on a man who was saturated with it, +gave his Lordship too small a dose. Nevertheless, he became immediately +stupefied." + +"Now, how on earth can you know that?" + +"Very easily, my lord. If his Lordship had not been rendered at once +unconscious, he would--knowing that an attempt had been made to drug +him--have sounded the alarm and deputed Mustapha to guard her Ladyship, +which was what he always did when he knew that he was not equal to the +task." + +"Well, that sounds plausible, at all events," acknowledged Cyril. + +"As soon as her Ladyship knew that she was no longer watched," continued +the detective, "she at once set to work to disguise herself. As we know, +she had provided herself with clothes, but I fancy her hair, her most +noticeable feature, must have caused her some anxious moments." + +"She may have worn a wig," suggested Cyril, hoping that Judson would +accept this explanation of the difficulty, in which case he would be +able triumphantly to demolish the latter's theory of the girl's +identity, by stating that he could positively swear that her hair was +her own. + +"No, my lord. After carefully investigating the matter I have come to +the conclusion that she did not. And my reasons are, first, that no +hairdresser in Newhaven has lately sold a dark wig to any one, and, +secondly, that no parcel arrived, addressed either to her Ladyship or to +Prentice, which could have contained such an article. On the other hand, +as his Lordship had for years dyed his hair and beard, her Ladyship had +only to go into his dressing-room to procure a very simple means of +transforming herself." + +"But doesn't it take ages to dye hair?" asked Cyril. + +"If it is done properly, yes; but the sort of stain his Lordship used +can be very quickly applied. I do not believe it took her Ladyship more +than half an hour to dye enough of her hair to escape notice, but in all +probability she had no time to do it very thoroughly and that which +escaped may have turned white. I don't know anything about that." + +This was a possibility which had not occurred to Cyril; but still he +refused to be convinced. + +"Very well, my lord. Let me continue my story: Before her Ladyship had +completed her preparations, his Lordship awoke from his stupor." + +"What makes you think that?" + +"Because, if his Lordship had not tried to prevent her escape, she would +have had no reason for killing him. Probably they had a struggle, her +hand fell on the pistol, and the deed was done----" + +"But what about the ruined picture?" + +"Her Ladyship, knowing that there was no other portrait of her in +existence, destroyed it in order to make it difficult for the police to +follow her." + +"H'm," grunted Cyril. "You make her Ladyship out a nice, cold-blooded, +calculating sort of person. If you think she at all resembles the young +lady at the nursing home, I can only tell you that you are vastly +mistaken." + +"As I have not the honour of knowing the lady in question, I cannot form +any opinion as to that. But let us continue: I wish to confess at once +that I am not at all sure how her Ladyship reached Newhaven. That +waiting automobile complicates matters. On the face of it, it seems as +if it must have some connection with the case. I have also a feeling +that it has, and yet for the life of me I cannot discover the connecting +link. Whatever the younger man was, the elder was undoubtedly a +Frenchman, and I have ascertained that with the exception of an old +French governess, who lived with her Ladyship before her marriage, and +of Mustapha and Valdriguez, Lady Wilmersley knew no foreigner whatever. +Besides, these two men seem to have been motoring about the country +almost at random, and it may have been the merest accident which brought +them to the foot of the long lane just at the time when her Ladyship was +in all probability leaving the castle. Whether they gave her a lift as +far as Newhaven, I do not know. How her Ladyship reached the town +constitutes the only serious--I will not call it break--but hiatus--in +my theory. From half-past six the next morning, however, her movements +can be easily followed. A young lady, dressed as you know, approached +the station with obvious nervousness. Three things attracted the +attention of the officials: first, the discrepancy between the +simplicity, I might almost say the poverty, of her clothes, and the fact +that she purchased a first-class ticket; secondly, that she did not wish +her features to be seen; and thirdly, that she had no luggage except a +small hand-bag. How her Ladyship managed to elude the police, and what +has subsequently occurred to her, I do not need to tell your Lordship." + +"You haven't in the least convinced me that the young lady is her +Ladyship, not in the least. You yourself admit that there is a hiatus in +your story; well, that hiatus is to me a gulf which you have failed to +bridge. Because one lady disappears from Geralton and another appears +the next morning in Newhaven, you insist the two are identical. But you +have not offered me one iota of proof that such is the case." + +"What more proof do you want? She is the only person who left Newhaven +by train or boat who even vaguely resembled her Ladyship." + +"That means nothing. Her Ladyship may not have come to Newhaven at all, +but have been driven to some hiding-place in the Frenchman's car." + +"I think that quite impossible, for every house, every cottage, every +stable and barn even, for twenty-five miles around, has been carefully +searched. Besides, this would mean that the murder had been premeditated +and the coming of the motor had been pre-arranged; and lastly, as the +gardener's wife testifies that the car left Geralton certainly no +earlier than eleven-thirty, and as the two men reached the hotel before +twelve, this precludes the possibility that they could have done more +than drive straight back to the Inn, as the motor is by no means a fast +one." + +"But, my man, they may have secreted her Ladyship in the town itself and +have taken her with them to France the next morning." + +"Impossible. In the first place, they left alone, the porter saw them +off; and secondly, no one except the two Frenchmen purchased a ticket +for the continent either in the Newhaven office or on the boat." + +Cyril rose from his seat. Judson's logic was horribly convincing; no +smallest detail had apparently escaped him. As the man piled argument on +argument, he had found himself slowly and grudgingly accepting his +conclusions. + +"As you are in my employ, I take it for granted that you will not inform +the police or the press of your--suspicions," he said at last. + +"Certainly not, my lord. On the other hand, I must ask you to allow me +to withdraw from the case." + +"But why?" exclaimed Cyril. + +"Because my duty to you, as my client, prevents me from taking any +further steps in this matter." + +"I don't understand you!" + +"I gather that you are less anxious to clear up the mystery than to +protect her Ladyship. Am I not right?" + +"Yes," acknowledged Cyril. + +"You would even wish me to assist you in providing a safe retreat for +her." + +"Exactly." + +"Well, my lord, that is just what I cannot do. It is my duty, as I +conceive it, to hold my tongue, but I should not feel justified in +aiding her Ladyship to escape the consequences of her--her--action. In +order to be faithful to my engagement to you, I am willing to let the +public believe that I have made a failure of the case. I shall not even +allow my imagination to dwell on your future movements, but more than +that I cannot do." + +"You take the position that her Ladyship is an ordinary criminal, but +you must realise that that is absurd. Even granting that she is +responsible for her husband's death--of which, by the way, we have no +absolute proof--are you not able to make allowances for a poor woman +goaded to desperation by an opium fiend?" + +"I do not constitute myself her Ladyship's judge, but I don't think your +Lordship quite realises all that you are asking of me. Even if I were +willing to waive the question of my professional honour, I should still +decline to undertake a task which, I know, is foredoomed to failure. +For, if _I_ discovered Lady Wilmersley with so little difficulty, +Scotland Yard is bound to do so before long. The trail is too +unmistakable. It is impossible--absolutely impossible, I assure you, +that the secret can be kept." + +Cyril moved uneasily. + +"I wish I could convince your Lordship of this and induce you to allow +the law to take its course. Her Ladyship ought to come forward at once +and plead justifiable homicide. If she waits till she is arrested, it +will tell heavily against her." + +"But she is ill, really ill," insisted Cyril. "Dr. Stuart-Smith tells me +that if she is not kept perfectly quiet for the next few weeks, her +nervous system may never recover from the shock." + +"H'm! That certainly complicates the situation; on the other hand, you +must remember that discovery is not only inevitable but imminent, and +that the police will not stop to consider her Ladyship's nervous system. +No, my lord, the only thing for you to do is to break the news to her +yourself and to persuade her to give herself up. If you don't, you will +both live to regret it." + +"That may be so," replied Cyril after a minute's hesitation, "but in +this matter I must judge for myself. I still hope that you are wrong and +that either the young woman in question is not Lady Wilmersley or that +it was not her Ladyship who killed my cousin, and I refuse to jeopardise +her life till I am sure that there is no possibility of your having made +a mistake. But don't throw up the case yet. So far you have only sought +for evidence which would strengthen your theory of her Ladyship's guilt, +now I want you to look at the case from a fresh point of view. I want +you to start all over again and to work on the assumption that her +Ladyship did not fire the shot. I cannot accept your conclusion as final +till we have exhausted every other possibility. These Frenchmen, for +instance, have they or have they not a connection with the case? And +then there is Valdriguez. Why have you never suspected her? At the +inquest she acknowledged that no one had seen her leave her Ladyship's +apartments and we have only her word for it that she spent the evening +in her room." + +"True. But, if I went on the principle of suspecting every one who +cannot prove themselves innocent, I should soon be lost in a quagmire of +barren conjectures. Of course, I have considered Valdriguez, but I can +find no reason for suspecting her." + +"Well, I could give you a dozen reasons." + +"Indeed, my lord, and what are they?" + +"In the first place, we know that she is a hard, unprincipled woman, or +she would never have consented to aid my cousin in depriving his +unfortunate wife of her liberty. A woman who would do that, is capable +of any villainy. Then, on the witness-stand didn't you feel that she was +holding something back? Oh, I forgot you were not present at the +inquest." + +"I was there, my lord, but I took good care that no one should recognise +me." + +"Well, and what impression did she make on you?" + +"A fairly favourable one, my lord. I think she spoke the truth and I +fancy that she is almost a religious fanatic." + +"You don't mean to say, Judson, that you allowed yourself to be taken in +by her sanctimonious airs and the theatrical way that she kept clutching +at that cross on her breast? A religious fanatic indeed! Why, don't you +see that no woman with a spark of religion in her could have allowed her +mistress to be treated as Lady Wilmersley was?" + +"Quite so, my lord, and it is because Valdriguez impressed me as an +honest old creature that I am still doubtful whether her Ladyship is +insane or not, and this uncertainty hampers me very much in my work." + +"Lady Upton assured me that her granddaughter's mind had never been +unbalanced and that his Lordship, although he frequently wrote to her, +had never so much as hinted at such a thing; and if you believe the +young lady at the nursing home to be Lady Wilmersley, I give you my word +that she shows no sign of mental derangement." + +"Well, that seems pretty final, and yet--and yet--I cannot believe that +Valdriguez is a vicious woman. A man in my profession acquires a curious +instinct in such matters, my lord." The detective paused a moment and +when he began again, he spoke almost as if he were reasoning with +himself. "Now, if my estimate of Valdriguez is correct, and if it is +also a fact that Lady Wilmersley has never been insane, there are +certainly possibilities connected with this affair which I have by no +means exhausted--and so, my lord, I am not only willing but anxious to +continue on the case, if you will agree to allow me to ignore her +Ladyship's existence." + +"Certainly. But tell me, Judson, how can you hope to reconcile two such +absolutely contradictory facts?" + +"Two such apparently contradictory facts," gently corrected the +detective. "Well, my lord, I propose to find out more of this woman's +antecedents. I have several times tried to get her to talk, but so far +without the least success. She says that she will answer any question +put to her on the witness-stand, but that it is against her principles +to gossip about her late master and mistress. She is equally reticent as +to her past life and when I told her that her silence seemed to me very +suspicious, she demanded--suspicious of what? She went on to say that +she could not see that it was anybody's business, where she lived or +what she had done, and that she had certainly no intention of gratifying +my idle curiosity; and that was the last word I could get out of her. +Although she treated me so cavalierly, I confess to a good deal of +sympathy with her attitude." + +"Have you questioned Mrs. Eversley about her?" asked Cyril. "She was +housekeeper here when Valdriguez first came to Geralton and ought to be +able to tell you what sort of person she was in her youth." + +"Mrs. Eversley speaks well of her. The only thing she told me which may +have a bearing on the case is, that in the old days his Lordship +appeared to admire Valdriguez very much." + +"Ah! I thought so," cried Cyril. + +"But we cannot be too sure of this, my lord. For when I tried to find +out what grounds she had for her statement, she had so little proof to +offer that I cannot accept her impression as conclusive evidence. As far +as I can make out, the gossip about them was started by his Lordship +going to the Catholic church in Newhaven." + +"By going to the Catholic church!" exclaimed Cyril. + +"Exactly. Not a very compromising act on his Lordship's part, one would +think. But as his Lordship was not a Catholic, his doing so naturally +aroused a good deal of comment. At first the neighbourhood feared that +he had been converted by his mother, who had often lamented that she had +not been allowed to bring up her son in her own faith. It was soon +noticed, however, that whenever his Lordship attended a popish service, +his mother's pretty maid was invariably present, and so people began to +put two and two together and before long it was universally assumed that +she was the magnet which had drawn him away from his own church. I asked +Mrs. Eversley if they had been seen together elsewhere, and she +reluctantly admitted that they had. On several occasions they were seen +walking in the Park but always, so Mrs. Eversley assured me, in full +view of the castle. She had felt it her duty to speak to Valdriguez on +the subject, and the latter told her that his Lordship was interested in +her religion and that she was willing to run the risk of having her +conduct misconstrued if she could save his soul from eternal damnation. +She also gave Mrs. Eversley to understand that she had her mistress's +sanction, and as her Ladyship treated Valdriguez more as a companion and +friend than as a maid, Mrs. Eversley thought this quite likely and did +not venture to remonstrate further. So the intimacy, if such it could be +called, continued as before. What the outcome of this state of things +would have been we do not know, for shortly afterwards both Lord and +Lady Wilmersley died and Valdriguez left Geralton. When his Lordship +went away a few weeks later, a good many people suspected that he had +joined her on the continent. Mrs. Eversley, however, does not believe +this. She has the most absolute confidence in Valdriguez's virtue, and I +think her testimony is pretty reliable." + +"Bah! Mrs. Eversley is an honest, simple old soul. A clever adventuress +would have little difficulty in hoodwinking her. Mark my words, you have +found the key to the mystery. What more likely than that his +Lordship--whose morals, even as a boy, were none of the best--seduced +Valdriguez and that she returned to Geralton so as to have the +opportunity of avenging her wrongs." + +"I can think of nothing more unlikely than that his Lordship should have +selected his cast-off mistress as his wife's attendant," Judson drily +remarked. + +"Not at all. You didn't know him," replied Cyril. "I can quite fancy +that the situation would have appealed to his cynical humour." + +"Your opinion of the late Lord Wilmersley is certainly not flattering, +but even if we take for granted that such an arrangement would not have +been impossible to his Lordship, I still refuse to believe that +Valdriguez would have agreed to it; even assuming that his Lordship had +wronged her and that she had nursed a murderous resentment against him +all these years, I cannot see how she could have hoped to further her +object by accepting the humiliating position of his wife's maid. It also +seems to me incredible that a woman whose passions were so violent as to +find expression in murder could have controlled them during a lifetime. +But leaving aside these considerations, I have another reason to urge +against your theory: Would his Lordship have trusted a woman who, he +knew, had a grievance against him, as he certainly trusted Valdriguez? +She had free access to his apartments. What was there to have prevented +her from giving him an overdose of some drug during one of the many +times when he was half-stupefied with opium? Nothing. The risk of +detection would have been infinitesimal. No, my lord, why Valdriguez +returned to Geralton is an enigma, I grant you, but your explanation +does not satisfy me." + +"As long as you acknowledge that Valdriguez's presence here needs an +explanation and are willing to work to find that explanation, I don't +care whether you accept my theory or not; all I want to get at is the +truth." + +"The truth, my lord," said the detective, as he rose to take his leave, +"is often more praised than appreciated." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +FINGER PRINTS IN THE DUST + + +As Cyril sat toying with his dinner, it was little by little borne in on +him that the butler had something on his mind. How he got this +impression he really did not know, for Douglas performed his duties as +precisely, as unobtrusively as ever. Yet long before the last course had +been reached, Cyril was morally certain that he had not been mistaken. +He waited for the dessert to be placed on the table; then, having +motioned the footmen to leave the room, he half turned to the butler, +who was standing behind his chair. + +"Douglas." + +"Yes, my lord?" The man stepped forward, so as to face his master. + +"Is anything the matter?" asked Cyril, scrutinising the other +attentively. + +The abrupt question seemed neither to surprise nor to discompose the +butler; yet he hesitated before finally answering: + +"I--I don't quite know, my lord." + +"Nonsense!" exclaimed Cyril impatiently. "You must know whether or not +something has happened to upset you." + +Douglas fidgeted uneasily. + +"Well, my lord--it's this way, my lord--Susan, the upper 'ousemaid, says +as how there has been somebody or--" here his voice sank to a whisper +and he cast an apprehensive glance over his shoulder--"or something in +the library last night!" + +Cyril put down the glass of wine he was carrying to his lips untasted. + +"She thinks she saw a ghost in the library?" + +"No, my lord. She didn't see anything, but this morning she found +finger-marks on the top of his Lordship's desk." + +"Pooh! What of that? One of the servants may have gone in there out of +curiosity." + +"But what would anybody be doing there in the night, I should like to +know? And Susan says those marks could only 'ave been made last night, +my lord." + +"Why?" + +"On account of the dust, my lord. It takes time for dust to settle and a +'ousemaid, who knows 'er business, can tell, after she's been in a place +a couple of months, just about 'ow long it's been since any particular +piece of furniture has been dusted. Aye, Susan knows, my lord. No young +'ousemaid can pull the wool over 'er eyes, I can tell you." + +"Does every one know of Susan's suspicions?" + +"No, my lord. Susan's a sensible woman, and though she was frightened +something terrible, she only told Mrs. Eversley and Mrs. Eversley told +me and we three agreed we'd hold our tongues. Every one's that upset as +it is, that they'd all 'ave 'ighstrikes if they knew that It was +walking." + +"Don't be a fool, Douglas. No one believes in ghosts nowadays. But even +if there were such things, an intangible spirit couldn't possibly leave +finger-marks behind it." + +"But, my lord, if you'll excuse me, my aunt's cousin--" began the +butler, but Cyril cut him short. + +"I have no time now to hear about your aunt's cousin, though no doubt it +is a most interesting story. Send Susan to me at once." + +"Very good, my lord." + +Susan had, however, no further information to impart. She was positive +that the marks must have been made some time during the night. + +"And it's my belief they were made by a skeleton hand," she added. "And +as for going into that room again, indeed I just couldn't, not for +nobody, meaning no disrespect to your Lordship; and as for the other +'ousemaids, they'll not go near the place either and haven't been since +the murder." + +"Very well, Susan, I shall not ask you to do so. Those rooms shall not +be opened again till this mystery is cleared up. I will go now and lock +them up myself." + +"Thank you, my lord." + +Striding rapidly across the hall, Cyril opened the door of the library. +This part of the castle had been equipped with electric light and steam +heat, and as he stepped into the darkness, the heavy-scented air almost +made him reel. Having found the switch, he noticed at once that the room +had indefinably changed since he had been in it last. Notwithstanding +the heat, notwithstanding the flood of crimson light, which permeated +even the farthest corners, it had already assumed the chill, gloomy +aspect of an abandoned apartment. + +Stooping over the desk, he eagerly inspected the marks which had so +startled the housemaid. Yes, they were still quite visible, although a +delicate film of dust had already begun to soften the precision of their +outline--very strange! They certainly did look like the imprint of +skeleton fingers. He laid his own hand on the desk. His fingers left a +mark at least twice as wide as those of the mysterious visitant. + +For a long time he stood with bent head pondering deeply; then, throwing +back his shoulders, as if he had arrived at some decision, he proceeded +to explore the entire suite. Having satisfied himself that no one was +secreted on the premises, he turned off the light, shut the door--but he +did not turn the key. + +Some hours later Cyril, in his great four-posted bed, lay watching, with +wide-open eyes, the fantastic shadows thrown by the dancing firelight on +the panelled walls. To woo sleep was evidently not his intention, for +from time to time he lighted a wax vesta and consulted the watch he held +in his hand. At last the hour seemed to satisfy him, for he got out of +bed and made a hasty toilet. Having accomplished this as best he could +in the semi-obscurity, he slipped a pistol into his pocket and left his +room. + +Groping his way through the darkness, he descended the stairs and +cautiously traversed the hall. Not a sound did he make. His stockinged +feet moved noiselessly over the heavy carpet. At the door of the library +he paused a moment and listened intently; then, pistol in hand, he threw +open the door. Darkness and silence alone confronted him. Closing the +door behind him, he lighted a match and carefully inspected the desk. +Having assured himself that no fresh marks had appeared on its polished +surface, he blew out the match and ensconced himself as comfortably as +the limited space permitted behind the curtains of one of the windows. +There he waited patiently for what seemed to him an eternity. He had +just begun to fear that his vigil would prove fruitless, when his ear +was gladdened by a slight sound. A moment later the light was switched +on. Hardly daring to breathe, Cyril peered through the curtains. +Valdriguez! Cyril's heart gave a bound of exultation. Had he not guessed +that those marks could only have been made by her small, bony fingers? + +Clad like a nun in a loose, black garment, which fell in straight, +austere folds to her feet; a black shawl, thrown over her head, casting +strange shadows on her pale, haggard face, she advanced slowly, almost +majestically, into the room. Cyril had to acknowledge that she looked +more like a medieval saint than a midnight marauder. + +Evidently the woman had no fear of detection, for she never even cast +one suspicious glance around her; nor did she appear to feel that there +was any necessity for haste, for she lingered for some time near the +writing-table, gazing at it, as if it had a fascination for her; but, +finally, she turned away with a hopeless sigh and directed her attention +to the bookcase. This she proceeded to examine in the most methodical +manner. Book after book was taken down, shaken, and the binding +carefully scrutinised. Having cleared a shelf, she drew a tape measure +from her pocket and rapped and measured the back and sides of the case +itself. + +What on earth could she be looking for, wondered Cyril. Not a will, +surely? For his cousin's will, executed at the date of his marriage, had +been found safely deposited with his solicitor. A later will, perhaps? +One in which she hoped that her master had remembered her, as he had +probably promised her that he would? Yes, that must be it. + +Well, there was no further need of concealment, he decided, so, parting +the curtains, he stepped into the room. + +"What are you doing here?" he demanded. + +His own voice startled him, it rang out so loud and harsh in the silence +of the night. + +Valdriguez knelt on the floor with her back to him, and it seemed as if +the sudden shock had paralysed her, for she made no effort to move, and +her hand, arrested in the act of replacing a book, remained +outstretched, as if it had been turned to stone. + +"It is I, your master. What are you doing here?" he repeated. + +He saw her shudder convulsively, then slowly she raised her head, and as +her great, tragic eyes met his, Cyril was conscious of a revulsion of +feeling toward her. Never had he seen anything so hopeless yet so +undaunted as the look she gave him. It reminded him, curiously enough, +of a look he had once seen in the eyes of a lioness, who, with a bullet +through her heart, still fought to protect her young. + +Staggering a little as she rose, Valdriguez nevertheless managed to draw +herself up to her full height. + +"I am here, my lord, to get what is mine--mine," she repeated almost +fiercely. + +Cyril pulled himself together. It was absurd, he reasoned, to allow +himself to be impressed by her strange personality. + +"A likely story!" he exclaimed; and the very fact that he was more than +half-inclined to believe her, made him speak more roughly than he would +otherwise have done. + +"Think what you like," she cried, shrugging her shoulders +contemptuously. "Have me arrested--have me hung--what do I care? Death +has no terrors for me." + +"So you confess that it was you who murdered his Lordship? Ah, I +suspected it! Your sanctimonious airs didn't deceive me," exclaimed +Cyril triumphantly. + +"No, I did not murder him," she replied calmly, almost indifferently. + +"I think you will have some difficulty convincing the police of that. +You have no alibi to prove that you were not in these rooms at the time +of the murder, and now when I tell them that I found you trying to +steal----" + +"I am no thief," she interrupted him with blazing eyes. "I tell you, I +came here to get what is mine by right." + +"Do you really expect me to believe that? Even if what you say were +true, you would not have had to sneak in here in the middle of the +night. You know very well that I should have made no objections to your +claiming your own." + +"So you say. But if I had gone to you and told you that a great lord had +robbed me, a poor woman, of something which is dearer to me than life +itself, would you have believed me? If I had said to you, 'I must look +through his Lordship's papers; I must be free to search everywhere,' +would you have given me permission to do so? No, never. You think I fear +you? That it was because I was ashamed of my errand that I came here at +this hour? Bah! All I feared was that I should be prevented from +discovering the truth. The truth?" Valdriguez's voice suddenly dropped +and she seemed to forget Cyril's presence. "It is here, somewhere." She +continued speaking as if to herself and her wild eyes swept feverishly +around the room. "He told me it was here--and yet how can I be sure of +it? He may have lied to me about this as he did about everything else. +How can I tell? Oh, this uncertainty is torture! I cannot bear it any +longer, oh, my God!" she cried, clasping her hands and lifting her +streaming eyes to heaven, "Thou knowest that I have striven all my life +to do Thy will; I have borne the cross that Thou sawest fit to lay upon +me without a murmur, nor have I once begged for mercy at Thy hands; but +now, now, oh, my Father, I beseech thee, give me to know the truth +before I die----" + +Cyril watched the woman narrowly. He felt that he must try and maintain +a judicial attitude toward her and not allow himself to be led astray by +his sympathies which, as he knew to his cost, were only too easily +aroused. After all, he reasoned, was it not more than likely that she +was delivering this melodramatic tirade for his benefit? On the other +hand, it was against his principles as well as against his inclinations +to deal harshly with a woman. + +"Calm yourself, Valdriguez," he said at last. "If you can convince me +that his Lordship had in his possession something which rightfully +belonged to you, I promise that, if it can be found, it shall be +restored to you. Tell me, what it is that you are looking for?" + +"Tell you--never! Are you not of his blood? You promise--so did he--the +smooth-tongued villain! All these years have I lived on promises! Never +will I trust one of his race again." + +"You have got to trust me whether you want to or not. Your position +could not be worse than it is, could it? Don't you see that your only +hope lies in being able to persuade me that you are an honest woman?" + +For the first time Valdriguez looked at Cyril attentively. He felt as if +her great eyes were probing his very soul. + +"Indeed, you do not look cruel or deceitful. And, as you say, I am +powerless without you, so I must take the risk of your being what you +seem. I will tell you the truth. But first, my lord, will you swear not +to betray my secret to any living being?" + +"You have my word for it. That is--" he hastily added, "if it has +nothing to do with the murder." + +"Nothing, my lord." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE STORY OF A WRONG + + +Cyril waited for her to continue, but for a long time it seemed doubtful +if she would have the courage to do so. + +"I am looking," she said at last, speaking slowly and with a visible +effort, "for a paper which will tell me whether my--son is alive or +dead." + +"Your son? So you were his Lordship's mistress----" + +"Before God I was his wife! I am no wanton, my lord!" + +"The old story--" began Cyril, but Valdriguez stopped him with a furious +gesture. + +"Do not dare to say that my child's mother was a loose woman! I will not +permit it. Arthur Wilmersley--may his Maker judge him as he +deserves--wrecked my life, but at least he never doubted my virtue. He +knew that the only way to get me was to marry me." + +"So he actually married you?" exclaimed Cyril. + +"No--but for a long time I believed that he had. How could a young, +innocent girl have suspected that the man she loved was capable of such +cold-blooded deception? Even now, I cannot blame myself for having +fallen into the trap he baited with such fiendish cunning. Think of +it--he induced me to consent to a secret marriage by promising that if I +made this sacrifice for his sake, he would become a convert to my +religion--my religion! And as we stood together before the altar, I +remember that I thanked God for giving me this opportunity of saving a +soul from destruction. I never dreamed that the church he took me to was +nothing but an old ruin he had fitted up as a chapel for the occasion. +How could I guess that the man who married us was not a priest but a +mountebank, whom he had hired to act the part?" + +Valdriguez bowed her head and the tears trickled through her thin +fingers. + +"I know that not many people would believe you but, well--I do." It +seemed to Cyril as if the words sprang to his lips unbidden. + +"Then indeed you are a good man," exclaimed Valdriguez, "for it is given +only to honest people to have a sure ear for the truth. Now it will be +easier to tell you the rest. Some weeks after we had gone through this +ceremony, first Lord and then Lady Wilmersley died; on her deathbed I +confided to my lady that I was her son's wife and she gave me her +blessing. My humble birth she forgave--after all it was less humble than +her own--and was content that her son had chosen a girl of her own race +and faith. As soon as the funeral was over, I urged my husband to +announce our marriage, but he would not. He proposed that we should go +for a while to the continent so that on our return it would be taken for +granted that we had been married there, and in this way much unpleasant +talk avoided. So we went to Paris and there we lived together openly as +man and wife, not indeed under his name but under mine. He pretended +that he wanted for once to see the world from the standpoint of the +people; that he desired for a short time to be free from the +restrictions of his rank. I myself dreaded so much entering a class so +far above me that I was glad of the chance of spending a few more months +in obscurity. For some weeks I was happy, then Lord Wilmersley began to +show himself to me as he really was. We had taken a large apartment near +the Luxembourg, and soon it became the meeting-ground for the most +reckless element of the Latin Quarter. Ah, if you but knew what sights I +saw, what things I heard in those days! I feared that my very soul was +being polluted, so I consulted a priest as to what I should do. He told +me it was my duty to remain constantly at my husband's side; with prayer +and patience I might some day succeed in reforming him. So I stayed in +that hell and bore the insults and humiliations he heaped upon me +without a murmur. Now, looking back on the past, I think my meekness and +resignation only exasperated him, for he grew more and more cruel and +seemed to think of nothing but how to torture me into revolt. Whether I +should have been given the strength to endure indefinitely, the life he +led me I do not know, but one evening, when we were as usual +entertaining a disreputable rabble, a young man entered. I recognised +him at once. It was the man who had married us! He was dressed in a +brown velveteen suit; a red sash encircled his waist; and on his arm he +flaunted a painted woman. Imagine my feelings! I stood up and turned to +my husband. I could not speak--and he, the man I had loved, only +laughed--laughed! Never shall I forget the sound of that laughter.... + +"That night my child was born. That was twenty-eight years ago, but it +seems as if it were but yesterday that I held his small, warm body in my +arms.... Then comes a period of which I remember nothing, and when I +finally recovered my senses, they told me my child was dead.... As soon +as I was able to travel, I returned to my old home in Seville and there +I lived, working and praying--praying for my own soul and for that of my +poor baby, who had died without receiving the sacrament of baptism.... +Years passed. I had become resigned to my lot, when one day I received a +letter from Lord Wilmersley. Oh! If I had only destroyed it unopened, +how much anguish would have been spared me! But at first when I read it, +I thought my happiness would have killed me, for Lord Wilmersley wrote +that my boy was not dead and that if I would meet him in Paris, he would +give me further news of him. I hesitated not a moment. At once did I set +out on my journey. On arriving in Paris I went to the hotel he had +indicated and was shown into a private _salon_. There for the first time +in a quarter of a century I saw again the man I had once regarded as my +husband. At first I had difficulty in recognising him, for now his true +character was written in every line of his face and figure. But I hardly +gave a thought either to him or to my wrongs, so great was my impatience +to hear news of my son.... Then that fiend began to play with me as a +cat with a mouse. Yes, my boy lived, had made his way in the world--that +was all he would tell me. My child had been adopted by some well-to-do +people, who had brought him up as their own--no, I needn't expect to +hear another word. Yes, he was a fine, strong lad--he would say no +more.... Can you imagine the scene? Finally, having wrought me up to the +point where I would have done anything to wring the truth from him, he +said to me: 'I have recently married a young wife and I am not such a +fool as to trust my honour in the keeping of a girl who married an old +man like me for his money. Now I have a plan to propose to you. Come and +live with her as her maid and help me to guard her from all eyes, and if +you fulfil your duties faithfully, at the end of three years I promise +that you shall see your son.' + +"His revolting proposition made my blood boil. Never, never, I told him, +would I accept such a humiliating situation. He merely shrugged his +shoulders and said that in that case I need never hope to hear what had +become of my son. I raved, threatened, pleaded, but he remained +inflexible, and finally I agreed to do his bidding." + +"So you, who call yourself a Christian, actually consented to help that +wretch to persecute his unfortunate young wife?" demanded Cyril sternly. + +Valdriguez flung her head back defiantly. + +"His wife? What was she to me? Besides, had she not taken him for better +or worse? Why should I have helped her to break the bonds her own vows +had imposed on her? He did not ill-treat her, far from it. He deprived +her of her liberty, but what of that? A nun has even less freedom than +she had. What were her sufferings compared to mine? Think of it, day +after day I had to stand aside and watch the man I had once looked upon +as my husband, lavish his love, his thought, his very life indeed, on +that pretty doll. Although I no longer loved him, my flesh quivered at +the sight." + +"Nevertheless--" began Cyril. + +"My lord, I care not for your judgment nor for that of any man. I came +here to find my son. Would you have had me give up that sacred task +because a pink and white baby wanted to flaunt her beauty before the +world? Ah, no! Lady Wilmersley's fate troubles me not at all; but what +breaks my heart is that, as Arthur died just before the three years were +up, I fear that now I shall never know what has become of my boy. +Sometimes I have feared that he is dead--but no, I will not believe it! +My boy lives! I feel it!" she cried, striking her breast. "And in this +room--perhaps within reach of my hand as I stand here--is the paper +which would tell me where he is. Ah, my lord, I beg, I entreat you to +help me to find it!" + +"I will gladly do so, but what reason have you for supposing that there +is such a paper?" + +"It is true that I have only Lord Wilmersley's word for it," she +replied, and her voice sounded suddenly hopeless. "Yet not once but many +times he said to me: 'I have a paper in which is written all you wish to +know, but as I do not trust you, I have hidden it, yes, in this very +room have I hidden it.' And now he is dead and I cannot find it! Oh, +what shall I do? What shall I do?" + +"Even if we cannot find the paper, there are other means of tracing your +son. We will advertise----" + +"Never!" she interrupted him vehemently. "I will never consent to do +anything which might reveal to him the secret of his birth. I would long +ago have taken steps to find him, if I had not realised that I could not +do so without taking a number of people into my confidence, and, if I +did that, the story of my shame would be bound to leak out. Not for +myself did I care, but for him. Think of it, if what Lord Wilmersley +told me was true, he holds an honourable position, believes himself the +son of respectable parents. Would it not be horrible, if he should +suddenly learn that he is the nameless child of a servant girl and a +villain? The fear that he should somehow discover the truth is always +before me. That is why I made you swear to keep my secret." + +"Of course, I will do as you wish, but I assure you that you exaggerate +the risk. Still, let us first search this room thoroughly; then, if we +do not find the paper, it will be time enough to decide what we shall do +next." + +"Ah, my lord, you are very good to me and may God reward you as you +deserve. Day and night will I pray for you." And to Cyril's dismay, +Valdriguez suddenly bent down and covered his hands with kisses. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +GUY RELENTS + + +Cyril and Valdriguez spent the next morning making a thorough search of +the library, but the paper they were looking for could not be found. +Cyril had from the first been sceptical of success. He could not believe +that her child was still alive and was convinced that Arthur Wilmersley +had fabricated the story simply to retain his hold over the unfortunate +mother. Valdriguez, however, for a long time refused to abandon the +quest. Again and again she ransacked places they had already carefully +examined. When it was finally borne in upon her that there was no +further possibility of finding what she so sought, the light suddenly +went out of her face and she would have fallen if Cyril had not caught +her and placed her in a chair. With arms hanging limply to her sides, +her half-closed eyes fixed vacantly in front of her, she looked as if +death had laid his hand upon her. Thoroughly alarmed, Cyril had the +woman carried to her room and sent for a doctor. When the latter +arrived, he shook his head hopelessly. She had had a stroke; there was +very little he could do for her. In his opinion it was extremely +doubtful if she would ever fully recover her faculties, he said. + +Cyril having made every possible arrangement for the comfort of the +afflicted woman, at last allowed his thoughts to revert to his own +troubles. + +He realised that with the elimination of both Valdriguez and Prentice +there was no one but Anita left who could reasonably be suspected of the +murder; for that the two Frenchmen were implicated in the affair, was +too remote a possibility to be seriously considered. No, he must make up +his mind to face the facts: the girl was Anita Wilmersley and she had +killed her husband! What was he going to do, now that he knew the truth? +Judson's advice that Anita should give herself up, he rejected without a +moment's hesitation. Yet, he had to acknowledge that there was little +hope of her being able to escape detection, as long as the police knew +her to be alive.... Suddenly an idea occurred to him. If they could only +be made to believe that she was dead, that and that alone would free her +at once and forever from their surveillance. She would be able to leave +England; to resume her life in some distant country where he.... Cyril +shrank instinctively from pursuing the delicious dream further. He tried +to force himself to consider judicially the scheme that was shaping +itself in his mind; to weigh calmly and dispassionately the chances for +and against its success. If a corpse resembling Anita were found, +dressed in the clothes she wore the day she left Geralton, it would +surely be taken for granted that the body was hers and that she had been +murdered. But how on earth was he to procure such a corpse and, having +procured it, where was he to hide it? The neighbourhood of the castle +had been so thoroughly searched that it would be no easy task to +persuade the police that they had overlooked any spot where a body might +be secreted. Certainly the plan presented almost insurmountable +difficulties, but as it was the only one he could think of, Cyril clung +to it with bull-dog tenacity. + +"Impossible? Nonsense! Nothing is impossible! Impossible is but a word +designed to shield the incompetent or frighten the timid," he muttered +loudly in his heart, unconsciously squaring his broad shoulders. + +He decided to leave Geralton at once, for the plan must be carried out +immediately or not at all, and it was only in London that he could hope +to procure the necessary assistance. + +On arriving in town, however, Cyril had to admit that he had really no +idea what he ought to do next. If he could only get in touch with an +impoverished medical student who would agree to provide a body, the +first and most difficult part of his undertaking would be achieved. But +how and where was he to find this indispensable accomplice? Well, it was +too late to do anything that evening, he decided. He might as well go to +the club and get some dinner and try to dismiss the problem from his +mind for the time being. + +The first person he saw on entering the dining-room was Campbell. He was +sitting by himself at a small table; his round, rosy face depicted the +utmost dejection and he thrust his fork through an oyster with much the +same expression a man might have worn who was spearing a personal enemy. + +On catching sight of Cyril, he dropped his fork, jumped from his seat, +and made an eager step forward. Then, he suddenly wavered, evidently +uncertain as to the reception Cyril was going to accord him. + +"Well, this is a piece of luck!" cried Cyril, stretching out his hand. + +Guy, looking decidedly sheepish, clasped it eagerly. + +"I might as well tell you at once that I know I made no end of an ass of +myself the other day," he said, averting his eyes from his friend's +face. "It is really pretty decent of you not to have resented my +ridiculous accusations." + +"Oh, that's all right," Cyril assured him, "I quite understood your +motive. But I am awfully glad you have changed your attitude towards me, +for to tell you the truth, I am in great need of your assistance." + +"Oh, Lor'!" ejaculated Campbell, screwing up his face into an expression +of comic despair. + +As soon as there was no danger of their being overheard, Cyril told +Campbell of his interview with Judson. At first Guy could not be +persuaded that the girl was Anita Wilmersley. + +"She is not a liar, I am sure of it! If she said that her hair had +turned white, it had turned white, and therefore it is impossible that +she had dyed it," objected Campbell. + +"Judson suggested that she dyed only part of her hair and that it was +the rest which turned white." + +Having finally convinced Guy that there was no doubt as to the girl's +identity, Cyril proceeded to unfold his plan for rescuing her from the +police. + +Guy adjusted his eye-glass and stared at his friend speechless with +consternation. + +"This affair has turned your brain," he finally gasped. "Your plan is +absurd, absolutely absurd, I tell you. Why, even if I could bribe some +one to procure me a corpse, how on earth could you get it to Geralton?" + +"In a motor-car." + +"And where under Heaven are you to hide it?" + +"Get me a corpse and I will arrange the rest," Cyril assured him with +more confidence than he really felt. + +"First you saddle me with a lot of stolen jewels and now you want me to +travel around the country with a corpse under my arm! I say, you do +select nice, pleasant jobs for me!" exclaimed Campbell. + +"Have you any other plan to suggest?" asked Cyril. + +"Can't say I have," acknowledged Guy. + +"Are you willing to sit still and see Anita Wilmersley arrested?" + +"Certainly not, but your scheme is a mad one--madder than anything I +should have credited even you with having conceived." Campbell paused a +moment as if considering the question in all its aspects. "However, the +fact that it is crazy may save us. The police will not be likely to +suspect two reputable members of society, whose sanity has so far not +been doubted, of attempting to carry through such a wild, impossible +plot. Yes," he mused, "the very impossibility of the thing may make it +possible." + +"Glad you agree with me," cried Cyril enthusiastically. "Now how soon +can you get a corpse, do you think?" + +"Good Lord, man! You talk as if I could order one from Whiteley's. When +can I get you a corpse--indeed? To-morrow--in a week--a month--a +year--never. The last-mentioned date I consider the most likely. I will +do what I can, that is all I can say; but how I am to go to work, upon +my word, I haven't the faintest idea." + +"You are an awfully clever chap, Guy." + +"None of your blarney. I won't have it! I am the absolute fool, but I am +still sane enough to know it." + +"Very well, I'll acknowledge that you are a fool and I only wish there +were more like you," said Cyril, clapping his friend affectionately on +the back. + +"By the way," he added, turning away as if in search of a match and +trying to speak as carelessly as possible, "How is Anita?" + +For a moment Guy did not answer and Cyril stood fumbling with the +matches fearful of the effect of the question. He was still doubtful how +far his friend had receded from his former position and was much +relieved when Guy finally answered in a very subdued voice: + +"She is pretty well--but--" He hesitated. + +Cyril turned quickly round. He noticed that Guy's face had lengthened +perceptibly and that he toyed nervously with his eye-glass. + +"What is the matter?" he inquired anxiously. + +"The fact is," replied Campbell, speaking slowly and carefully avoiding +the other's eye, "I think it is possible that she misses you." + +Cyril's heart gave a sudden jump. + +"I can hardly believe it," he managed to stutter. + +"Of course, Miss Trevor may be mistaken. It was her idea, not mine, that +Ani--Lady Wilmersley I mean--is worrying over your absence. But whatever +the cause, the fact remains that she has changed very much. She is no +longer frank and cordial in her manner either to Miss Trevor or myself. +It seems almost as if she regarded us both with suspicion, though what +she can possibly suspect us of, I can't for the life of me imagine. That +day at lunch she was gay as a child, but now she is never anything but +sad and preoccupied." + +"Perhaps she is beginning to remember the past," suggested Cyril. + +"How can I tell? Miss Trevor and I have tried everything we could think +of to induce her to confide in us, but she won't. Possibly you might be +more successful--" An involuntary sigh escaped Campbell. "I am sorry now +that I prevented you from seeing her. Mind you, I still think it wiser +not to do so, but I ought to have left you free to use your own +judgment. The number of her sitting-room is 62, on the second floor and, +for some reason or other, she insists on being left there alone every +afternoon from three to four. Now I have told you all I know of the +situation and you must handle it as you think best." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +A SLIP OF THE TONGUE + + +Cyril spent the night in a state of pitiable indecision. Should he or +should he not risk a visit to Anita? If the police were shadowing him, +it would be fatal, but he had somehow lately acquired the conviction +that they were not. On the other hand, if he could only see her, how it +would simplify everything! As she distrusted both Guy and Miss Trevor, +even if his plot succeeded, she would probably refuse to leave England +unless he himself told her that he wished her to do so. Besides, there +were so many details to be discussed, so many arrangements to be talked +over. "Yes," he said to himself as he lay staring into the darkness, "it +is my duty to see her. I shall go to her not because I want to...." A +horrid doubt made him pause. Was he so sure that his decision was not +the outcome of his own desire? How could he trust his judgment in a +matter where his inclinations were so deeply involved? Yet it would be +shocking if he allowed his own feelings to induce him to do something +which might be injurious to Anita. It was a nice question to determine +whether her need of him was sufficient to justify him in risking a +visit? For hours he debated with himself but could arrive at no +conclusion. No sooner did he resolve to stay away from her than the +thought of her unhappiness again made him waver. If he only knew why she +was so unhappy, he told himself that the situation would not be so +unendurable. When he had talked to her over the telephone, she had +seemed cheerful; she had spoken of Guy and Miss Trevor with enthusiasm. +What could have occurred since then to make her distrust them and to +plunge her into such a state of gloom? As he tossed to and fro on his +hot, tumbled bed, his imagination pictured one dire possibility after +another, till at last he made up his mind that he could bear the +uncertainty no longer. He must see her! He would see her! + +Having reached this decision, Cyril could hardly refrain from rushing +off to her as soon as it was light. However, he had to curb his +impatience. Three o'clock was the only hour he could be sure of finding +her alone; so he must wait till three o'clock. But how on earth, he +asked himself, was he going to get through the intervening time? He was +in a state of feverish restlessness that was almost agony; he could not +apply himself to anything; he could only wait--wait. Although he knew +that there was no chance of his meeting Anita, he haunted the +neighbourhood of the "George" all the morning. Every few minutes he +consulted his watch and the progress of the hands seemed to him so +incredibly slow that more than once he thought that it must have stopped +altogether. Finally, finally, the hour struck. + +Flinging back his shoulders and assuming a carelessness that almost +amounted to a swagger, Cyril entered the hotel. He was so self-conscious +that it was with considerable surprise as well as relief that he noticed +that no one paid the slightest attention to him. Even the porter hardly +glanced at him, being at the moment engaged in speeding a parting guest. + +Cyril decided to use the stairs in preference to the lift, as they were +less frequented than the latter, and as it happened, he made his way up +to the second landing without encountering anybody. + +There, however, he came face to face with a pretty housemaid, who to his +dismay looked at him attentively. Cyril went cold all over. Had he but +known it, she had been attracted by his tall, soldierly figure and had +merely offered him the tribute of an admiring glance. But this +explanation never occurred to our modest hero and he hurried, quite +absurdly flustered by this trifling incident. He found that No. 62 +opened on a small, ill-lighted hall, which was for the moment completely +deserted. + +Now that he actually stood on the threshold of Anita's room, Cyril felt +a curious reluctance to proceed farther. It was unwise.... She might not +want to see him.... But even as these objections flashed through his +mind, he knocked almost involuntarily. + +"Come in." + +Yet he still hesitated. His heart was beating like a sledge-hammer and +his hands were trembling. Never had he experienced such a curious +sensation before and he wondered vaguely what could be the matter with +him. + +"I can't stand here forever," he said in his heart. "I wanted to see +her; well then, why don't I open the door? I am behaving like a fool!" + +Still reasoning with himself, he finally entered the room. + +A bright fire was burning on the hearth and before it were heaped a +number of cushions and from this lowly seat Anita had apparently hastily +arisen. The length of time he had taken to answer her summons had +evidently alarmed her, for she stood like a creature at bay, her eyes +wide open and frightened. On recognising Cyril a deep blush suffused her +face and even coloured the whiteness of her throat. + +"So it was you!" she exclaimed. + +Her relief was obvious, yet her manner was distant, almost repellent. +Cyril had confidently anticipated such a different reception that her +unexpected coldness completed his discomfiture. He felt as if the +foundations of his world were giving away beneath his feet. He managed, +however, to murmur something, he knew not what. The pounding of his +heart prevented him from thinking coherently. When his emotion had +subsided sufficiently for him to realise what he was doing, he found +himself sitting stiffly on one side of the fire with Anita sitting +equally stiffly on the other. She was talking--no, rather she was +engaging him in polite conversation. How long she had been doing so he +did not know, but he gathered that it could not have been long, as she +was still on the subject of the weather. + +"It has been atrocious in London. I hope you had better luck in the +country. To-day has been especially disagreeable," she was saying. + +Cyril abused the weather with a vigour which was rather surprising, in +view of the fact that till she had mentioned it, he had been sublimely +unconscious whether the sun had been shining or not. But finally even +that prolific topic was exhausted and as no other apparently suggested +itself to either, they relapsed into a constrained silence. + +Cyril was suffering acutely. He had so longed to see her, and now an +impalpable barrier had somehow arisen between them which separated them +more completely than mere bricks and mortar, than any distance could +have done. True, he could feast his eyes on her cameo-like profile; on +the soft curve of her cheek; on the long, golden-tipped lashes; on the +slender, white throat, which rose like a column from the laces of her +dress. But he dared not look at her too long. Cyril was not +introspective and was only dimly aware of the cause of the turmoil which +was raging in his heart. He did not know that he averted his eyes for +fear that the primitive male within him would break loose from the +fetters of his will and forcibly seize the small creature so temptingly +within his reach. + +"If I only knew what I have done to displease her!" he said to himself. + +He longed to question her, but she held herself so rigidly aloof that he +had not the courage to do so. It was in vain that he told himself that +her coldness simplified the situation; that it would have been terrible +to have had to repel her advances; but he could find no consolation in +the thought. In speechless misery he sat gazing into the fire. + +Suddenly he thrilled with the consciousness that she was looking at him. +He turned towards her and their eyes met. + +The glance they exchanged was of the briefest duration, but it sufficed +to lift the weight which had been crushing him. He leaned eagerly +forward. + +"Have I offended you?" he asked. + +The corners of her mouth quivered slightly, but she did not answer. + +"If I have," he continued, "I assure you it was quite unintentionally. +Why, I would give my life to save you a moment's pain. Can't you feel +that I am speaking the truth?" + +She turned her face towards him, and as he looked at her, Cyril realised +that it was not only her manner which had altered; she herself had +mysteriously altered. At first he could not define wherein the +difference lay, but suddenly it flashed upon him. It was the expression +of her eyes which had changed. Heretofore he had been confident that +they reflected her every emotion; but now they were inscrutable. It was +as if she had drawn a veil over her soul. + +"I don't know what you mean," she said. There was more than a hint of +hostility in her voice. + +The evasion angered him. + +"That is impossible! Why not be frank with me? If my visit is +distasteful to you, you have only to say so and I will go." + +As she did not immediately answer, he added: + +"Perhaps I had better go." His tone, however, somehow implied more of a +threat than a suggestion; for since they had exchanged that fleeting +glance Cyril had felt unreasonably reassured. Despite her coldness, the +memory of her tender entreaties for his speedy return, buoyed up his +conceit. She could not be as indifferent to him as she seemed, he argued +to himself. However, as the moments passed and she offered no objection +to his leaving her, his newly-aroused confidence evaporated. + +"She does not want me!" he muttered to himself. "I must go." But he made +no motion to do so; he could not. + +"I can't leave her till I know how I have offended her.... There are so +many arrangements to be made.... I must get in touch with her again,--" +were some of the excuses with which he tried to convince himself that he +had a right to linger. + +He tried to read her face, but she had averted her head till he could +see nothing but one small, pink ear, peeping from beneath her curls. + +Her silence exasperated him. + +"Why don't you speak to me? Why do you treat me like this?" he demanded +almost fiercely. + +"It is a little difficult to know how you wish to be treated!" Her +manner was icy, but his relief was so intense that he scarcely noticed +it. + +"She is piqued!" he cried exultingly in his heart. "She is piqued, that +is the whole trouble." He felt a man once more, master of the situation. +"She probably expected me to--" He shrank from pursuing the thought any +further as the hot blood surged to his face. He was again conscious of +his helplessness. What could he say to her? + +"Oh, if you could only understand!" he exclaimed aloud. "I suppose you +think me cold and unfeeling? I only wish I were!... Oh, this is +torture!" + +She seemed startled by his vehemence, for she looked up at him timidly. + +"Can't you trust me?" he continued. "Won't you tell me what has come +between us?" + +Two big tears gathered in her eyes. + +The sight was too much for Cyril. Right and wrong ceased to exist for +him. He forgot everything; stooping forward he gathered her into his +arms and crushed her small body against his heart. + +She thrust him from her with unexpected force and stood before him with +blazing eyes. + +"You cannot treat me like a child, who can be neglected one day and +fondled the next! I won't have it! At the nursing home I was too weak +and confused to realise how strangely you were behaving, but now I know. +You dare to complain of my coldness--my coldness indeed! Is my coldness +a match to yours? Why do you suddenly pretend to love me?" + +He interrupted her with a vigorous protest. + +"If you do, then your conduct is all the more inexplicable. If you do, +then I ask you, what is it, who is it, that stands between us?" + +"If I could tell you, don't you suppose I would?" declared Cyril. + +"Then there is some one, some person who is keeping us apart!" + +"No--oh, not exactly." + +"Ah, you see, you can't deny it! There is another woman in your life. I +know it! I felt it!" + +"No--no! I love you!" cried Cyril. + +He hardly knew what he was saying; the words seemed to have leaped to +his lips. + +She regarded him for a second in silence evidently only partially +convinced. + +Cyril felt horribly guilty. He had momentarily forgotten his wife, and +although he tried to convince himself that he had spoken the truth and +that it was not she who was keeping them apart, yet he had to +acknowledge that if he had been free, he would certainly have behaved +very differently towards Anita. So in a sense he had lied to her and as +he realised this, his eyes sank before hers. She did not fail to note +his embarrassment and pressed her point inexorably. + +"Swear that there is no other woman who has a claim on you and I will +believe you." + +He could not lie to her in cold blood. Yet to tell her the truth was +also out of the question, he said to himself. + +While he still hesitated, she continued more vehemently. + +"I don't ask you to tell me anything of your past or my past, if you had +rather not do so. One thing, however, I must and will know--who is this +woman and what are her pretensions?" + +"I--I cannot tell you," he said at last. "I only wish I could. Some day, +I promise you, you shall know everything, but now it is impossible. But +this much I will say--I love you as I have never loved any one in my +whole life." + +She trembled from head to foot and half closed her eyes. + +For a moment neither spoke. Cyril felt that this very silence +established a communion between them, more complete, more intense than +any words could have done. But as he gazed at the small, drooping +figure, he felt that his self-control was deserting him completely. He +almost reeled with the violence of his emotion. + +"I can't stand it another moment," he said to himself. "I must go +before--" He did not finish the sentence but clenched his hands till the +knuckles showed white through the skin. + +He rose to his feet. + +"I can't stay!" he exclaimed aloud. "Forgive me, Anita. I can't tell you +what I feel. Good-bye!" He murmured incoherently and seizing her hands, +he pressed them for an instant against his lips, then dropping them +abruptly, he fled from the room. + +Cyril in his excitement had not noticed that he had called Anita by her +name nor did he perceive the start she gave when she heard it. After the +door had clicked behind him, she sat as if turned to stone, white to her +very lips. + +Slowly, as if with an effort, her lips moved. + +"Anita?" she whispered to herself. "Anita?" she repeated over and over +again as if she were trying to learn a difficult lesson. + +Suddenly a great light broke over her face. + +"I am Anita Wilmersley!" she cried aloud. + +But the tension had been too great; with a little gasp she sank fainting +to the floor. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR + + +What he did during the next few hours, Cyril never quite knew. He +retained a vague impression of wandering through endless streets and of +being now and then arrested in his heedless course by the angry +imprecations of some wayfarer he had inadvertently jostled or of some +Jehu whose progress he was blocking. + +How could he have behaved like such a fool, he kept asking himself. He +had not said a thing to Anita that he had meant to say--not one. Worse +still, he had told her that he loved her! He had even held her in his +arms! Cyril tried not to exult at the thought. He told himself again and +again that he had acted like a cad; nevertheless the memory of that +moment filled him with triumphant rapture. Had he lost all sense of +shame, he wondered. He tried to consider Anita's situation, his own +situation; but he could not. Anita herself absorbed him. He could think +neither of the past nor of the future; he could think of nothing +connectedly. + +The daylight waned and still he tramped steadily onward. Finally, +however, his body began to assert itself. His footsteps grew gradually +slower, till at last he realised that he was miles from home and that he +was completely exhausted. Hailing a passing conveyance, he drove to his +lodgings. + +He was still so engrossed in his dreams that he felt no surprise at +finding Peter sitting in the front hall, nor did he notice the dejected +droop of the latter's shoulders. + +On catching sight of his master, Peter sprang forward. + +"Hsh! My lord," he whispered with his finger on his lip; and turning +slightly, he cast an apprehensive glance over his shoulder towards the +top of the stairs. + +With an effort Cyril shook off his preoccupation. Following the +direction of his servant's eyes, he saw nothing more alarming than a few +dusty plants which were supposed to adorn the small landing where the +stairs turned. Before he had time to form a conjecture as to the cause +of Peter's agitation, the latter continued breathlessly: "Her Ladyship +'ave arrived, my lord!" + +Having made this announcement, he stepped back as if to watch what +effect this information would have on his master. There was no doubt +that Peter's alarm was very genuine, yet one felt that in spite of it he +was enjoying the dramatic possibilities of the situation. + +Cyril, however, only blinked at him uncomprehendingly. + +"Her Ladyship? What Ladyship?" he asked. + +"Lady Wilmersley, my lord, and she brought her baggage. I haven't known +what to do, that I haven't. I knew she ought not to stay here, but I +couldn't turn 'er out, could I?" + +Cyril's mind was so full of Anita that he never doubted that it was she +to whom Peter was referring, so without waiting to ask further +questions, he rushed upstairs two steps at a time, and threw open the +door of his sitting-room. + +On a low chair in front of the fire his wife sat reading quietly. + +Cyril staggered back as if he had been struck. She, however, only turned +her head languidly and closing her book, surveyed him with a mocking +smile. + +For a moment Cyril saw red. His disappointment added fuel to his +indignation. + +"Amy! How dare you come here?" he cried, striding towards her. + +She seemed in nowise affected by his anger; only her expression became, +if possible, a trifle more contemptuous. + +"Your manners have sadly deteriorated since we parted," she remarked, +raising her eyebrows superciliously. + +"Manners!" he exclaimed and his voice actually shook with rage. "May I +ask how you expected to be received? Is it possible that you imagine +that I am going to take you back?" + +Her eyes narrowed, but she still appeared quite unconcerned. + +"Do you know, I rather think you will," she drawled. + +"Take you back, now that you have tired of your lover or he has become +disgusted with you, which is probably nearer the truth. Do you think I +am mad, or are you?" + +He fancied that he saw her wince, but she replied calmly: + +"Do not let us indulge in mutual recriminations. They are so futile." + +"Mutual recriminations, indeed! I like that! What have you to reproach +me with? Didn't I marry you to save you from disgrace and penury? +Haven't I done everything I could to keep you straight?" + +She rose slowly from her seat and he noticed for the first time that she +wore a low-cut gown of some diaphanous material, which revealed and yet +softened the too delicate lines of her sinuous figure. Her black hair +lay in thick waves around her face, completely covering the ears, and +wound in a coil at the back of her neck. He had never seen it arranged +in this fashion and reluctantly he had to admit that it was strangely +becoming to her. A wide band of dull gold, set with uncut gems, +encircled her head and added a barbaric note to her exotic beauty. It +was his last gift to her, he remembered. + +Yes, she was still beautiful, he acknowledged, although the life she had +led, had left its marks upon her. She looked older and frailer than when +he had seen her last. But to-night the sunken eyes glowed with +extraordinary brilliancy and a soft colour gave a certain roundness to +her hollow cheeks. As she stood before him, Cyril was conscious, for the +first time in years, of the alluring charm of her personality. + +She regarded him for a moment, her full red lips parted in an +inscrutable smile. How well he recalled that smile! He could never +fathom its meaning. In some mysterious way it suggested infinite +possibilities. How he hated it! + +"You tried everything, I grant you," she said at last, "except the one +thing which would have proved efficacious." + +"And what was that, pray?" + +"You never loved me." + +Her unexpected accusation made Cyril pause. Yes, it was true, he +acknowledged to himself. Had he not realised it during the last few days +as he had never done before? + +"You don't even take the trouble to deny it," she continued. "You +married me out of pity and instead of being ashamed of it, you actually +pride yourself on the purity of your motive." + +"Well, at any rate I can't see what there was to be ashamed of," he +replied indignantly. + +"Of course you can't! Oh, how you good people exasperate me! You seem to +lack all comprehension of the natural cravings of a normal human being. +Pity? What did I want with pity? I wanted love!" + +"It was not my fault that I could not love you." + +"No, but knowing that you did not love me, it was dastardly of you to +have married me without telling me the truth. In doing so, you took from +me my objective in life--you destroyed my ideals. Oh, don't look so +sceptical, you fool! Can't you see that I should never have remained a +governess until I was twenty-five, if I had not had ideals? It was +because I had such lofty conceptions of love that I kept myself +scrupulously aloof from men, so that I might come to my mate, when I +found him, with soul, mind, and body unsullied." + +She spoke with such passionate sincerity that it was with an effort +Cyril reminded himself that her past had not been as blameless as she +pictured it. + +"Your fine ideals did not prevent you from becoming a drunkard--" he +remarked drily. + +"When I married, I was not a drunkard," she vehemently protested. "The +existence I led was abhorrent to me, and it is true that occasionally +when I felt I could not stand it another moment, I would go to my room +after dinner and get what comfort I could out of alcohol; but what I +did, I did deliberately and not to satisfy an ungovernable appetite. I +was no more a drunkard than a woman who takes a dose of morphine during +bodily agony is a drug fiend. Of course, my conduct seems inexcusable to +you, for you are quite incapable of understanding the torture my life +was to me." + +"Other women have suffered far greater misfortunes and have borne them +with fortitude and dignity." + +"Look at me, Cyril; even now am I like other women?" She drew herself up +proudly. "Was it my fault that I was born with beauty that demanded its +due? Was I to blame that my blood leaped wildly through my veins, that +my imagination was always on fire? But I was, and still am, +instinctively and fundamentally a virtuous woman. Oh, you may sneer, but +it is true! Although as a girl I was starving for love, I never accepted +passion as a substitute, and you can't realise how incessantly the +latter was offered me. Wherever I went, I was persecuted by it. At times +I had a horrible fear that desire was all that I was capable of evoking; +and when you came to me in my misery, poverty, and disgrace, I hailed +you as my king--my man! I believed that you were offering me a love so +great that it welcomed the sacrifice of every minor consideration. It +never occurred to me that you would dare to ask me for myself, my life, +my future, unless you were able to give me in exchange something more +than the mere luxuries of existence." + +"I also offered you my life----" + +"You did not!" she interrupted him. "You offered up your life, not to +me, but to your own miserable conception of chivalry. The greatness of +your sacrifice intoxicated you and consequently it seemed to you +inevitable that I also would spend the rest of my days in humble +contemplation of your sublime character?" + +"Such an idea never occurred to me," Cyril angrily objected. + +"Oh, you never formulated it in so many words, I know that! You are too +self-conscious to be introspective and are actually proud of the fact +that you never stop to analyse either yourself or your motives. So you +go blundering through life without in the least realising what are the +influences which shape your actions. You fancy that you are not +self-centred because you are too shy, yes, and too vain to probe the +hidden recesses of your heart. You imagine that you are unselfish +because you make daily sacrifices to your own ideal of conduct. But of +that utter forgetfulness of self, of that complete merging and +submerging of your identity in another's, you have never had even the +vaguest conception. When you married me, it never occurred to you that I +had the right to demand both love and comprehension. You, the idealist, +expected me to be satisfied with the material advantages you offered; +but I, the degraded creature you take me to be, had I known the truth, +would never have consented to sell my birthright for a mess of pottage." + +"That sounds all very fine, and I confess I may not have been a perfect +husband, but after all, what would you have done, I should like to know, +if I had not married you?" + +"Done? I would have worked and hoped, and if work had failed me, I would +have begged and hoped. I would even have starved, before abandoning the +hope that some day I should find the man who was destined for me. When I +at last realised that you did not love me, you cannot imagine my +despair. I consumed myself in futile efforts to please you, but the very +intensity of my love prevented me from exercising those arts and +artifices which might have brought you to my feet. My emotion in your +presence was so great that it sealed my lips and made you find me a dull +companion." + +"I never thought you dull. You know very well that it was not that which +alienated me from you. When I married you, I may not have been what is +called in love with you, but I was certainly fond of you, and if you had +behaved yourself, I should no doubt in time have become more closely +united to you. You talk of 'consuming' yourself to please me. Nice, +effective word, that! I must add it to my vocabulary. But you chose a +strange means of gaining my affections when you took to disgracing +yourself both privately and publicly." + +The passionate resentment which had transfigured her slowly faded from +Amy's face, leaving it drawn and old; her voice, when she spoke, sounded +infinitely weary. + +"When I knew for a certainty that a lukewarm affection was all you would +ever feel for me, I lost hope, and in losing hope, I lost my foothold on +life. I wanted to die--I determined to die. Time and time again, I +pressed your pistol to my forehead, but something stronger than my will +always prevented me from pulling the trigger; and finally I sought +forgetfulness in drink, because I had not the courage to find it in +death. At first I tried to hide my condition from you, but there came a +moment when the sight of your bland self-satisfaction became unbearable, +when your absolute unconsciousness of the havoc you had made of my life +maddened me. I wanted you to suffer! Oh, not as I had suffered, you are +not capable of that; but at any rate I could hurt your vanity and deal a +death-blow to your pride! You had disgraced me when you tricked me into +giving myself to a man who did not love me; I determined to disgrace you +by reeling through the public streets. And I was glad, glad!" she cried +with indescribable bitterness. "When I saw you grow pale with anger, +when I saw you tremble with shame, I suppose you fancy that I must, at +times, have suffered from remorse and humiliation? I swear that never +for a moment have I regretted the course I chose. I am ashamed of +nothing except that I lacked the courage to kill myself. Drink? I bless +it! How I welcomed the gradual deadening of my senses, the dulling of my +fevered brain! When I awoke from my long torpor and found myself at +Charleroi, I cursed the doctor who had brought me back to life. Little +by little the old agony returned. The thought of you haunted me day and +night, while a raging thirst racked my body, and from this twofold +torture the constant supervision of the nurses prevented me from +obtaining even a temporary respite. It was hell!" + +For a moment Cyril felt a wave of pity sweep over him, but suddenly he +stiffened. + +"You forget to mention that--consolation was offered you." + +"Consolation! Had I found that, I should not be here! I admit, however, +that when I first noticed that M. de Brissac was attracted by me, I was +mildly pleased. It was a solace to my wounded vanity to find that some +one still found me desirable. But I swear that it never even occurred to +me to give myself to him, till the doctor told me that you were coming +to take me away with you. See you again? Subject myself anew to your +indifference--your contempt? Never! So I took the only means of escaping +from you which offered itself. And I am glad, glad that I flung myself +into the mire, for by defiling love, I killed it. I am at last free from +the obsession which has been the torment of my life. Neither you nor any +other man will again fire my imagination or stir my senses. I am dead, +but I am also free--free!" + +As she spoke the last words her expression was so exalted that Cyril was +forced to grant her his grudging admiration. As she stood before him, +she seemed more a spirit than a woman; she seemed the incarnation of +life, of love, of the very fundamentals of existence. She was really an +extraordinary woman; why did he not love her, he asked himself. But even +as this flashed through his mind the memory of his long martyrdom +obtruded itself. He saw her again not as she appeared then, but as the +central figure in a succession of loathsome scenes. + +"Your attempt to justify yourself may impose on others, but not on me. I +know you too well! You are rotten to the core. What you term love is +nothing but an abnormal craving, which no healthy-minded man with his +work in life to do could have possibly satisfied. Our code, however, is +too different for me to discuss the matter with you. And so, if you have +quite finished expatiating on my shortcomings, would you kindly tell me +to what I owe the honour of your visit?" + +She turned abruptly from him and leaned for a minute against the +mantelpiece; then, sinking into a chair, she took a cigarette from a box +which lay on the table near her and proceeded to light it with apparent +unconcern. Cyril, however, noticed that her hand trembled violently. +After inhaling a few puffs, she threw her head back and looked at him +tauntingly from between her narrowed lids. + +"Because, my dear Cyril, I read in yesterday's paper that your wife had +been your companion on your ill-timed journey from Paris. So I thought +it would be rather amusing to run over and find out a few particulars as +to the young person who is masquerading under my name." + +She had caught Cyril completely off his guard and he felt for a moment +incapable of parrying her attack. + +"I assure you," he stuttered, "it is all a mistake--" He hesitated; he +could think of no explanation which would satisfy her. + +"I expected you to tell me that she was as pure as snow!" she exclaimed +with a scornful laugh. "But how you with your puritanic ideas managed to +get yourself into such an imbroglio passes my understanding. Really, I +consider that you owe it to me, to satisfy my curiosity." + +"I regret that I am unable to do so." + +"So do I! Still, as I shall no doubt solve the riddle in a few days, I +can possess my soul in patience. Meanwhile I shall enjoy watching your +efforts to prevent me from learning the truth." + +"Unfortunately for you, that pleasure will be denied you. You are going +to leave this house at once and we shall not meet again till we do so +before judge and jury." + +Amy settled herself more comfortably in her chair. + +"So you will persist in trying to bluff it out? Foolish Cyril! Don't you +realise that I hold all the cards and that I am quite clever enough to +use them to the best advantage? You see, knowing you as I do, I am +convinced that the motive which led you to sacrifice both truth and +honour is probably as praiseworthy as it is absurd. But having made such +a sacrifice, why are you determined to render it useless? I cannot +believe that you are willing to face the loss not only of your own +reputation but of that of the young person who has accepted your +protection. How do you fancy she would enjoy figuring as corespondent in +a divorce suit?" + +Cyril felt as if he were caught in a trap. + +"My God," he cried, "you wouldn't do that! I swear to you that she is +absolutely innocent. She was in a terrible situation and to say that she +was my wife seemed the only way to save her. She doesn't even know I am +married!" + +"Really? And have you never considered that when she finds out the +truth, she may fail to appreciate the delicacy which no doubt prevented +you from mentioning the trifling fact of my existence? It is rather +funny that your attempts to rescue forlorn damsels seem doomed to be +unsuccessful! Or were your motives in this case not quite so impersonal +as I fancied? Has Launcelot at last found his Guinevere? If so, I may +yet be avenged vicariously." + +"Your presence is punishment enough, I assure you, for all the sins I +ever committed! But come to the point. What exactly is it that you are +threatening me with?" + +"Publicity, that is all. If neither you nor this woman object to its +being known that you travelled together as man and wife, then I am +powerless." + +"But you have just acknowledged that you know that our relation is a +harmless one," cried Cyril. + +"I do not know it--but--yes, I believe it. Do you think, however, that +any one else will do so?" + +"Surely you would not be such a fiend as to wreck the life of an +innocent young girl?" + +"If her life is wrecked, whose fault is it? Not mine, at all events. It +was you who by publicly proclaiming her to be your wife, made it +impossible for her disgrace to remain a secret. Don't you realise that +even if I took no steps in the matter, sooner or later the truth is +bound to be discovered? Now I--and I alone--can save you from the +consequences of your folly. If you will agree not to divorce me, I +promise not only to keep your secret, but to protect the good name of +this woman by every means in my power." + +"I should like to know what you expect to gain by trying to force me to +take you back? Is it the title that you covet, or do you long to shine +in society? But remember that in order to do that, you would have +radically to reform your habits." + +"I have no intention of reforming and I don't care a fig for +conventional society!" + +"You tell me that you no longer love me and that you found existence +with me unsupportable. Why then are you not willing to end it?" + +"It is true, I no longer love you, but while I live, no other woman +shall usurp my place." + +"Your place! When you broke your marriage vows, you forfeited your right +to a place in my life. But I will make a compact with you. You can have +all the money you can possibly want as long as you neither do nor say +anything to imperil the reputation of the young lady in question." + +"All the wealth in the world could not buy my silence!" + +"This is too horrible!" cried Cyril almost beside himself. "In order to +shield a poor innocent child, you demand that I sacrifice my freedom, my +future, even my honour? Have you no sense of justice, no pity?" + +"None. I have said my last word. It is now for you to decide whether I +am to go or stay. Well--which is it to be?" + +Cyril looked into her white, set face; what he read there destroyed his +last, lingering hope. + +"Stay," he muttered through his clenched teeth. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +"I KNOW IT, COUSIN CYRIL" + + +Cyril leaned wearily back in his chair. He was in that state of +apathetic calm which sometimes succeeds a violent emotion. Of his wife +he had neither seen or heard anything since they parted the night +before. + +"My lord!" + +Cyril started, for he had not noticed Peter's entrance and the +suppressed excitement of the latter's manner alarmed him. + +"What is the matter now?" he demanded. + +"She's 'ere, my lord," replied Peter, dropping his voice till it was +almost a whisper. + +Cyril sprang from his seat. + +"Who?" he cried. "Speak up, can't you?" + +"The--the young lady, my lord, as you took charge of on the train. I was +just passing through the 'all as she came in and so----" + +"Here?" exclaimed Cyril. "Why didn't you show her up at once?" + +"But, my lord," objected Peter. "If 'er Ladyship should 'ear----" + +"Mind your own business, you fool, or----" + +But Peter had already scuttled out of the room. + +Cyril waited, every nerve strung to the highest tension. Was he again to +be disappointed? Yet if his visitor was really Anita, some new +misfortune must have occurred! It seemed to him ages before the door +again opened and admitted a small, cloaked figure, whose features were +practically concealed by a heavy veil. A glance, however, sufficed to +assure him that it was indeed Anita who stood before him. While Cyril +was struggling to regain his composure, she lifted her veil. The +desperation of her eyes appalled him. + +"My God, what is the matter?" cried Cyril, striding forward and seizing +her hands. + +She gently disengaged herself. + +"Lord Wilmersley--" Cyril jumped as if he had been shot. "Yes," she +continued, "I know who you are. I also know who I am." + +"But who told you?" stuttered Cyril. + +"You did," she quietly replied. + +"I? What do you mean?" + +For the first time the ghost of a smile hovered round her lips. + +"You called me Anita! You didn't know that, did you?" + +"Did I really? What a blundering fool I have been from first to last!" +Cyril exclaimed remorsefully. + +"You need not reproach yourself. For some days I had been haunted by +fragmentary visions of the past and before I saw you yesterday, I was +practically certain that you were not my husband. Oh! It was not without +a struggle that I finally made up my mind that you had deceived me. I +told myself again and again that you were not the sort of a man who +would take advantage of an unprotected girl; yet the more I thought +about it, the more convinced I became that my suspicions were correct. +Then I tried to imagine what reason you could have for posing as my +husband, but I could think of none. I was in despair! I didn't know what +to do, whom to turn to; for if I could not trust you, whom could I +trust? When I heard my name, it was as if a dim light suddenly flooded +my brain. I knew who I was. I remembered leaving Geralton, but little by +little I realised with dismay that I was still completely in the dark as +to who you were, why you had come into my life. It seemed to me that if +I could not discover the truth, I should go mad. Then I decided to +appeal to Miss Trevor. She was a woman. She looked kind. She would tell +me! I was somehow convinced that she did not know who I was, but I said +to myself that she would certainly have heard of my disappearance, for I +could not believe that Arthur had allowed me to go out of his life +without moving heaven and earth to find me." + +"You did not know----?" + +Anita shook her head. + +"No; it was Miss Trevor who told me that Arthur was dead--that he had +been murdered." She shuddered convulsively. "You see," she added with +pathetic humility, "there are still so many things I do not remember. +Even now I can hardly believe that I, I of all people, killed my +husband." Great tears coursed slowly down her cheeks. + +Cyril ached for pity of her. + +"Why take it for granted that you did?" he suggested, partly from a +desire to comfort her, but also because there really lingered a doubt in +his mind. + +"Do you suspect any one else?" she cried. + +"Not at present, but----" + +She threw up her hands with a gesture of despair. "No, of course not. I +must have killed him. But I never meant to--you will believe that, won't +you? Those doctors were right, I must have been insane!" + +"I am sure you were not. Arthur only intended to frighten you by sending +for those men." + +"But if I was not crazy, why can I remember so little of what took place +on that dreadful night and for some time afterwards?" + +"I am told that a severe shock often has that effect," replied Cyril. +"But, oh, how I wish you could answer a few questions! I don't want to +raise your hopes; but there is one thing that has always puzzled me and +till that is explained I for one shall always doubt whether it was you +who killed Arthur." + +Again the eager light leaped into her eyes. + +"Oh, tell me quickly what--what makes you think that I may not have done +so?" + +Cyril contemplated her a moment in silence. He longed to pursue the +topic, but was fearful of the effect it might have on her. + +"Yet now that she knows the worst, it may be a relief to her to talk +about it," he said to himself. "Yes, I will risk it," he finally +decided. + +"Do you remember that you put a drug in Arthur's coffee?" he asked out +loud. + +"Yes, perfectly." + +"Then you must have expected to make your escape before he regained +consciousness." + +"Yes--yes!" + +"Then why did you arm yourself with a pistol?" + +"I didn't! I had no pistol." + +"But if you shot Arthur, you must have had a pistol." + +She stared at Cyril in evident bewilderment. + +"I could have sworn I had no pistol." + +Cyril tried to control his rising excitement. "You knew, however, that +Arthur owned one?" + +"Yes, but I never knew where he kept it." + +"You are sure you have not forgotten----" + +"No, no!" she interrupted him. "My memory is perfectly clear up to the +time when Arthur seized me and threw me on the floor." + +"After that you remember nothing?" + +"Oh, yes, I have a vague recollection of a long walk through the +dark--of a train--of you--of policemen. But everything is so confused +that I can be sure of nothing." + +Cyril paced the room deep in thought. + +"It seems to me incredible," he said at last, "that if you did not even +know where to look for a pistol, you should have found it, to say +nothing of having been able to use it, while you were being beaten into +unconsciousness by that brute." + +But Anita only shook her head hopelessly. + +"It is extraordinary, and yet I must have done so. For it has been +proved, has it not, that Arthur and I were absolutely alone?" + +"Certainly not! How can we be sure that some one was not concealed in +the room or did not climb in through the window or--why, there are a +thousand possibilities which can never be proved!" + +"Ah!" she exclaimed, her whole body trembling with eagerness. "I now +remember that I had put all my jewels in a bag, and as that has +disappeared, a burglar--" But as she scanned Cyril's face, she paused. + +"You had the bag with you at the nursing home. The jewels are safe," he +said very gently. + +"Then," she cried, "it is useless trying to deceive ourselves any +longer--I killed Arthur and must face the consequences." + +"What do you mean?" + +"I have decided to give myself up." + +"You shall not! I will not allow it!" he cried. + +"But don't you see that I can't spend the rest of my life in hiding? +Think what it would mean to live in daily, hourly dread of exposure? +Why, death would be preferable to that." + +"Oh, you would be acquitted. There is no doubt of that. That is not what +I am afraid of. But the idea of you, Anita, in prison. Why, it is out of +the question. A week of it would kill you." + +"And if it did, what of it? What has life to offer me now?" + +"Give me time. I will find some way of saving you. I will do +anything--everything." + +"There is nothing you can do," she said, laying her hand gently on his +arm. "You have already risked too much. Oh, I can never thank you enough +for all your goodness to me!" + +"Don't--don't--I would gladly give my life for you!" + +"I know it, Cousin Cyril," she murmured, with downcast eyes. A wave of +colour swept for a moment over her face. + +Cyril shivered. With a mighty effort he strove to regain his composure. +Cousin Cyril! Yes, that was what he was to her--that was all he could +ever be to her. + +"I know how noble, how unselfish you are," she continued, lifting her +brimming eyes to his. "But your life is not your own. We must both +remember that." + +"Both? Anita, is it possible that you----" + +"Hush! I have said too much. Let me go," she cried, for Cyril had seized +her hand and was covering it with kisses. + +At this moment the door-handle rattled. Cyril and Anita moved hurriedly +away from each other. + +"Inspector Griggs is 'ere, my lord." + +Peter's face had resumed its usual stolid expression. He appeared not to +notice that his master and the latter's guest were standing in strained +attitudes at opposite ends of the room. + +"I can't see him." Cyril motioned Peter impatiently away. + +"Why didn't you see the inspector?" exclaimed Anita. "This is the best +time for me to give myself up." + +"No, no! I have a plan----" + +He was interrupted by the reappearance of Peter. + +"The inspector is very sorry, my lord, but he has to see you at once, 'e +says." + +"I can't," began Cyril. + +"It is no use putting it off," Anita said firmly. "I insist on your +seeing him. If you don't, I shall go down and speak to him myself." + +Cyril did not know what to do. He could not argue with her before Peter. +So turning to the latter, he said: + +"You can bring him up in ten minutes--not before. You understand?" + +"Yes, my lord." + +"Anita," implored Cyril, as soon as they were again alone, "I beg you +not to do this thing. If a plan that I have in mind succeeds, you will +be able to leave the country and begin life again under another name." + +She hesitated a moment. + +"What is this plan?" + +He outlined it briefly. + +She listened attentively, but when he had finished she shook her head. + +"I will not allow you to attempt it. If your fraud were discovered--and +it would surely be discovered--your life would be ruined." + +"No--" he began. + +"I tell you I will not hear of it. No, I am determined to end this +horrible suspense. Call the inspector." + +"I entreat you at all events to wait a little while longer." + +"No, no!" + +Cyril was almost frantic. The minutes were slipping past. Was there +nothing he could say to turn her from her purpose? + +"My wife is here. If she should hear, if she should know--" he began +tentatively. + +He was amazed at the effect of his words. + +"Why didn't you tell me that she was here?" exclaimed Anita with +flashing eyes. "Of course, I haven't the slightest intention of +involving her in my affairs. I will go at once." + +"But you can't leave the house without Griggs seeing you, and he would +certainly guess who you are. Stay in the next room till he is gone, that +is all I ask of you. Here, quick, I hear footsteps on the stairs." + +Cyril had hardly time to fling himself into a chair before the inspector +was announced. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE TRUTH + + +"Good-morning, my lord. Rather early to disturb you, I am afraid." + +Cyril noticed that Griggs's manner had undergone a subtle change. +Although perfectly respectful, he seemed to hold himself rigidly aloof. +There was even a certain solemnity about his trivial greeting. Cyril +felt that another blow was impending. Instantly and instinctively he +braced himself to meet it. + +"Not at all. What can I do for you?" he replied in his usual quiet +voice. + +The man hesitated a moment. + +"The fact is, my lord, I should like to ask you a few questions, but I +warn you that your answers may be used against you." + +"I have nothing to fear. What is it you want to know?" + +"Have you missed a bag, my lord?" + +"That confounded bag! It has turned up at last," thought Cyril. What on +earth should he say? How much did the fellow guess? + +"You had better ask my man. He knows more about my things than I do," he +managed to answer, as he lifted a perfectly expressionless face to +Griggs's inspection. + +"Quite so, my lord. But I fancy that as far as this particular bag is +concerned, that is not the case." + +"Why not?" + +"Because I do not see what reason he could have had for hiding one of +his master's bags up the chimney." + +"So the bag was found up the chimney? Will you tell me what motive I am +supposed to have had for wishing to conceal it? Is there anything +remarkable about it? Did it contain anything you thought I might want to +get rid of?" + +The inspector eyed him narrowly. + +"It's no use, my lord. We know that Priscilla Prentice bought this bag a +fortnight ago in Newhaven. Now, if you are able to explain how it came +into your possession, I would strongly advise your doing so." + +Still Cyril did not flinch. + +"I have never to my knowledge laid eyes on the girl, and I cannot, +therefore, believe that a bag of hers has been found here." + +"We can prove it," replied the inspector. "The maker's name is inside +and the man who sold it to her is willing to swear that it is the +identical bag. One of our men has made friends with your chamber-maid +and she confessed that she had discovered it stuffed up the chimney in +your bedroom. She is a stupid girl and thought you had thrown it away, +so she took it. Only afterwards, it occurred to her that you had a +purpose in placing the bag where she had found it and she was going to +return it when my man prevented her from doing so." + +"Very remarkable! It all fits together like clock-work. I congratulate +you, Inspector," said Cyril, trying to speak superciliously. "But you +omitted to mention the most important link in the chain of evidence you +have so cleverly forged against me," he continued. "How am I supposed to +have got hold of this bag? I did not stop in Newhaven and you have had +me so closely watched that you must know that since my arrival in +England I have met no one who could have given it to me." + +"No, my lord, we are by no means sure of this. Quite the contrary. It is +true that we have, so to speak, kept an eye on you, but, till yesterday, +we had no reason to suspect that you had any connection with the murder, +so we did not think it necessary to have you closely followed. There +have been hours when we have had no idea where you were." + +"You surprise me!" + +"It is quite possible," continued the inspector without heeding Cyril's +interruption, "that you have met either Prentice or Lady Wilmersley, the +dowager, I mean." + +"Really! And why should they have given this bag to me, of all people? +Surely you must see that they could have found many easier, as well as +safer, ways of disposing of it." + +"Quite so, my lord, and that is why I am inclined to believe that it was +not through either of them that the bag came into your possession. I +think it more probable that her Ladyship brought it with her." + +"Her Ladyship? What do you mean?" Cyril's voice grew suddenly harsh. + +"You told me yourself that her Ladyship met you in Newhaven; that, in +fact, she had spent the night of the murder there." + +Cyril clutched the table convulsively. + +Amy! They suspected Amy. This was too horrible! Why had it never +occurred to him that his lies might involve an innocent person? + +"But this is absurd, you know," he stammered, in a futile effort to gain +time. + +"Let us hope so, my lord." + +"There has been a terrible mistake, I tell you." + +"In that case her Ladyship can no doubt easily explain it." + +"Her Ladyship is ill. She cannot be disturbed." + +"I am afraid that cannot be avoided. I must see her at once. But if you +wish it, I will not question her till she has been examined by our +doctors." + +Cyril rose and moved automatically towards the door. + +The inspector stepped forward. + +"Sorry, my lord, but for the present you can see her Ladyship only +before witnesses. May I ring the bell?" + +"What is the use of asking my permission? You are master here, so it +seems," exclaimed Cyril. His nerves were at last getting beyond his +control. + +"I am only doing my duty and I assure you that I want to cause as little +unpleasantness as possible." + +A servant appeared. + +The inspector remained discreetly in the background. + +"Ask her Ladyship please to come here as soon as she can get ready. If +she is asleep, it will be necessary to wake her." + +"Very good, my lord." + +The two men sat facing each other in silence. + +Cyril was hardly conscious of the other's presence. He must think; he +knew he must think; but his brain seemed paralysed. There must be a way +of clearing his wife without casting suspicion on Anita. Yet he could +think of none. Was it possible that he was now called upon to choose +between the woman he hated and the woman he loved, between honour and +dishonour? No, there must be a middle course. Time would surely solve +the difficulty. + +The door opened and Amy came slowly into the room. She looked +desperately ill. + +She was wrapped in a red velvet dressing-gown and its warm colour +contrasted painfully with the greyness of her face and lips. On catching +sight of the inspector, she started, but controlling herself with an +obvious effort, she turned to her husband. + +"You wish to speak to me?" + +"You can see for yourself, Inspector, that her Ladyship is in no +condition to be questioned," remonstrated Cyril, moving quickly to his +wife's side. + +"Just as you say, my lord, but in that case her Ladyship had better +finish her dressing. It will be necessary for her to accompany me to +headquarters." + +"I will not allow it," cried Cyril, almost beside himself and throwing a +protecting arm around Amy's shoulders. + +Her bloodshot eyes rested a moment on her husband, then gently +disengaging herself, she drew herself to her full height and faced the +inspector. + +"What is the matter? You need not try to spare me." + +"His Lordship----" + +"Do not listen to his Lordship. It is I who demand to be told the +truth." + +"Amy, I beg you--" interposed Cyril. + +"No, no," she cried, shaking off her husband's hand. "Let me know the +worst. Don't you see that you are torturing me?" + +"There has been a mistake. It is all my fault," began Cyril. + +She silenced him with an imperious gesture. + +"I am waiting to hear what the inspector has to say." + +Griggs cast a questioning look at Cyril, which the latter answered by a +helpless shrug. + +"A bag has been found in his Lordship's chimney, which was lately +purchased in Newhaven. Do you know how it got there? But perhaps before +answering, you may wish to consult your legal adviser." + +She cast a quick glance at her husband. + +"I will neither acknowledge nor deny anything until I have seen this bag +and know of what I am accused," she answered after a barely perceptible +pause. + +Griggs opened the door and called: + +"Jones, the bag, please." + +The inspector handed it to Amy. + +She looked at it for a moment. Cyril watched her breathlessly. What +would she say? Had the moment come when he must proclaim the truth? + +"Am I supposed to have bought this bag?" she asked. + +"No, my lady. It was sold to Prentice, who was sempstress at Geralton +and we believe it is the one in which Lady Wilmersley carried off her +jewels." + +Amy gave a muffled exclamation, but almost instantly she regained her +composure. + +"If that is so, how do you connect me with it? Because it happens to +have been found here, do you accuse me of having robbed my cousin?" + +"No, my lady, but as you spent the night of the murder in Newhaven----" + +To Cyril's surprise she shuddered from head to foot. + +"No, no!" she cried, stretching out her hands as if to ward off a blow. + +"It is useless to deny it. His Lordship himself told me that you had +joined him there." + +"I lied! It was not her Ladyship who was with me. Her Ladyship was in +Paris at the time. I swear it on my honour. The bag is--is mine. You can +arrest me. I am guilty." Thank God, thought Cyril, he had at last found +a way of saving both his love and his honour. + +"Guilty of what, my lord? Of a murder which was committed while you were +still in France--" asked Griggs, lifting his eyebrows incredulously. + +"Yes! I mean I instigated it--I hated my cousin--I needed the money, so +I hired an accomplice. He bungled things. I give myself up. I confess. +What more do you want?" cried Cyril. + +"Not so fast, my lord. Of course, if you insist upon it, I shall have to +arrest you, but I don't believe you had anything more to do with the +murder than I had, and I would stake my reputation on your being as +straight a gentleman as I ever met professionally. Wait a bit, my lord, +don't be 'asty." In his excitement Griggs dropped one of his carefully +guarded aitches. + +The door opened. + +"Mr. Campbell, my lord." + +"Guy," exclaimed Cyril. "You have arrived in the nick of time. I have +confessed." + +"Confessed what?" Campbell cast a bewildered look at the inspector. + +"His Lordship says that he hired an assassin to murder Lord Wilmersley." + +"What rot! You don't believe him, I hope?" + +"He _shall_ believe me," cried Cyril. "I alone am responsible for +Wilmersley's death. The person who actually fired the shot was nothing +but my tool. I will never betray him, never!" + +"Honour among murderers, I see! Really, Cyril, you are too ridiculous," +exclaimed Campbell. + +Suddenly he caught sight of Amy, cowering in the shadow of the curtain. + +"Who is this lady?" he asked. + +"My wife! Look after her. Look after everything." Cyril gave Guy a look +in which he tried to convey all that he did not dare to say. + +The door again opened. + +"Mr. Judson is 'ere, my lord. I told him you were engaged, but he says +he would like to speak to you most particular." + +"I don't want to see him," began Cyril. + +"Don't be a greater fool than you can help," exclaimed Campbell. "How do +you know that he has not some important news?" + +"But--" objected Cyril. + +"Good morning, your Lordship. How do you do, Inspector. Mr. Campbell, I +believe. Your servant, your Ladyship. I took the liberty of forcing +myself upon you at this moment, my lord, because I have just learnt +certain facts which----" + +"It is too late to report," interposed Cyril hastily. "I have +confessed." + +The detective smiled indulgently. + +"Why, my lord, what is the use of pretending that you had anything to do +with the murder? I hurried here to tell you that there is no further +need of your sacrificing yourself. I have found out who----" + +"Shut up, I say. I did it. It's none of your business anyhow!" cried +Cyril incoherently. + +"Don't listen to his Lordship," said Amy. "We all know, of course, that +he is perfectly innocent. He is trying to shield some one. But who?" She +cast a keen look at Cyril. + +"That's just it," Judson agreed. "And it is partly my fault. I convinced +his Lordship that Lord Wilmersley was murdered by his wife. I have come +here to tell him that I was mistaken. It is lucky that I discovered the +truth in time." + +"Thank God!" cried Cyril. "I always knew she was innocent." His relief +was so intense that it robbed him of all power of concealment. + +Amy's mouth hardened into a straight, inflexible line; her eyes +narrowed. + +"I suppose that you have some fact to support your extraordinary +assertion?" demanded Griggs, unable to hide his vexation at finding that +his rival had evidently outwitted him. + +"Certainly, but I will say no more till I have his Lordship's +permission. He is my employer, you know." + +"What difference does that make?" asked Cyril. "I am more anxious than +any one to discover the truth." + +"Permit me to suggest, my lord, that it would be better if I could first +speak to you in private." + +"Nonsense," exclaimed Cyril impatiently. "I am tired of this eternal +secrecy. Tell us what you have found out." + +The detective's brows contracted slightly. + +"Very well, only remember, I warned you." + +"That's all right." + +"Have you forgotten, my lord, that I told you I always had an idea that +those two Frenchmen who were staying at the Red Lion Inn, were somehow +implicated in the affair?" + +"But what possible motive could they have had for murdering my cousin?" +demanded Cyril. + +The detective's eyes appeared to wander aimlessly from one of his +auditors to another. + +"We are waiting. What about those Frenchmen?" + +It was Amy who spoke. She moved slowly forward, and leaning her arm on +the mantelpiece confronted the four men. + +"You wish me to continue?" asked Judson. + +"Certainly. Why not?" + +The detective inclined his head and again turned towards Cyril. + +"Having once discovered their identity, my lord, their motive was quite +apparent." + +"Well, who are they? Out with it." + +"The elder," began Judson, speaking very slowly, "is Monsieur de +Brissac. The younger--" he paused. + +For a moment Cyril was too stunned to speak. He could do nothing but +stare stupidly at the detective. Amy guilty! Amy! It was incredible! + +"Stop! Your suspicions are absurd! Do not listen to him, Inspector!" He +hardly knew what he was saying. He only realised confusedly that +something within him was crying to him to save her. + +A wonderful light suddenly transfigured Amy's drawn face. + +"Cyril, would you really do this for----" + +"Hush!" He tried to silence her. + +She turned proudly to the inspector. + +"I don't care now who knows the truth. I killed Lord Wilmersley." + +"Don't listen to her! Don't you see that she is not accountable for what +she is saying?" cried Cyril. He had forgotten everything but that she +was a woman--his wife. + +"I killed Lord Wilmersley," Amy repeated, as if he had not spoken, "but +I did not murder him." + +"Does your Ladyship expect us to believe that you happened to call at +the castle at half-past ten in the evening, and that during an amicable +conversation you accidentally shot Lord Wilmersley?" demanded Griggs. + +"No," replied Amy contemptuously, "of course not! I--" She hesitated. + +"If your Ladyship had not ulterior purpose in going to Newhaven, why did +you disguise yourself as a boy and live there under an assumed name? And +who is this Frenchman who posed as your brother?" + +Amy threw her head back defiantly. A faint colour swept over her face. + +"Monsieur de Brissac was my lover. When we discovered that his Lordship +was employing detectives, we went to Newhaven, because we thought that +it was the last place where they would be likely to look for us. I +disguised myself to throw them off the scent." + +"But the description the inspector gave me of the boy did not resemble +you in the least," insisted Cyril. + +"It was I nevertheless. I merely cut off my hair and dyed it. See!" She +snatched the black wig from her head, disclosing a short crop of reddish +curls. + +"You have yet to explain," resumed the inspector sternly, "what took you +to Geralton in the middle of the night. Under the circumstances I should +have thought your Ladyship would hardly have cared to visit his +Lordship's relations." + +Ignoring Griggs, Amy turned to her husband. + +"My going there was the purest accident," she began in a dull, +monotonous voice, almost as if she were reciting a lesson, but as she +proceeded, her excitement increased till finally she became so absorbed +in her story that she appeared to forget her hearers completely. "I was +horribly restless, so we spent most of our time motoring and often +stayed out very late. One night a tire burst. I noticed that we had +stopped within a short walk of the castle. As I had never seen it except +at a distance, it occurred to me that I would like to have a nearer view +of the place. In my boy's clothes I found it fairly easy to climb the +low wall which separates the gardens from the park. Not a light was to +be seen, so, as there seemed no danger of my being discovered, I +ventured on to the terrace. As I stood there, I heard a faint cry. My +first impulse was to retrace my footsteps as quickly as possible, but +when I realised that it was a woman who was crying for help, I felt that +I must find out what was the matter. Running in the direction from which +the sound came, I turned a corner and found myself confronted by a +lighted window. The shrieks were now positively blood-curdling and there +was no doubt in my mind that some poor creature was being done to death +only a few feet away from me. The window was high above my head, but I +was determined to reach it. After several unsuccessful attempts I +managed to gain a foothold on the uneven surface of the wall and hoist +myself on to the window-sill. Luckily the window was partially open, so +I was able to slip noiselessly into the room and hide behind the +curtain. Peering through the folds, I saw a woman lying on the floor. +Her bodice was torn open, exposing her bare back. Over her stood a man +who was beating her with a piece of cord which was attached to the waist +of a sort of Eastern dressing-gown he wore. + +"'So you thought you would leave me, did you?' he cried over and over +again as the lash fell faster and faster. 'Well, you won't! Not till I +send you to hell, which I will some day.' + +"At last he paused and wiped the perspiration from his brow. He was very +fat and his exertions were evidently telling on him. + +"'Why shouldn't I kill you now? I have my pistol within reach of my +hand. It is here on my desk. Ah, you didn't know that, did you?' He gave +a fiendish laugh. + +"The woman shuddered but made no attempt to rise. + +"I was slowly recovering from the terror which had at first paralysed +me. I realised I must act at once if I meant to save Lady Wilmersley's +life. The desk was behind him. + +"Dropping on my hands and knees, I crept cautiously toward it. 'Kill +you, kill you, that is what I ought to do,' he kept repeating. + +"I reached the desk. No pistol was to be seen; yet I knew it was there. +As I fumbled among his papers, my hand touched an ancient steel +gauntlet. Some instinct told me that I had found what I sought. But how +to open it was the question. Some agonising moments passed before I at +last accidentally pressed the spring and a pistol lay in my hand. + +"He again raised the cord. + +"'Stop!' I cried. + +"He swung around and as he caught sight of the pistol levelled at his +head, the purple slowly faded from his face. + +"Then seemingly reassured at finding that it was only a boy who +confronted him, he took a step forward. + +"'Who the devil are you? Get out of here!' he cried. + +"'Stay where you are or I fire.' + +"'What nonsense is this?' he blustered, but I noticed that his knees +shook and he made no further effort to move. + +"'Climb out of the window. There is a car waiting in the road,' I called +to the girl. + +"'She shall not go!' he shrieked. The veins stood out on his temples. + +"I held him with my eye and saw his coward soul quiver with fear as I +moved deliberately nearer him. + +"'Do as I tell you. Run for your life,' I repeated. + +"'But you?' gasped Lady Wilmersley. + +"'I have the pistol. I am not afraid. I will follow you,' I assured her. + +"I knew rather than saw that she picked up a jacket and bag which lay +near the window. With a soft thud she dropped into the night. That is +the last I saw of her. What became of her I do not know." Amy paused a +moment. + +"As Lord Wilmersley saw his wife disappear, he gave a cry like a wounded +animal and rushed after her. I fired. He staggered back a few steps, +then turning he ran into the adjoining room. I heard a splash but did +not stop to find out what happened. Almost beside myself with terror, I +fled from the castle. If you have any more questions to ask, you had +better hurry." + +She stopped abruptly, trembling from head to foot, and glanced wildly +about her till her eyes rested on her husband. For a long, long moment +she regarded him in silence. She seemed to be gathering herself together +for a supreme effort. + +All four men watched her in breathless suspense. + +With her eyes still fastened on Cyril she fumbled in the bosom of her +dress, then her hand shot out, and before any one could prevent her, she +jabbed a hypodermic needle deep into her arm. + +"What have you done?" cried Cyril, springing forward and wrenching the +needle from her. + +A beatific smile spread slowly over her face. + +"You are--free," she gasped. + +She swayed a little and would have fallen if Cyril had not caught her. + +"Quick--a doctor," he cried. + +"It is too late," she murmured. "Too late! Forgive me, Cyril. +I--loved--you--so----" + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +CAMPBELL RESIGNS + + +Under a yew tree, overlooking a wide lawn, bordered on the farther side +by a bank of flowers, three people are sitting clustered around a +tea-table. + +One of them is a little old lady, the dearest old lady imaginable. By +her side, in a low basket chair, a girl is half sitting, half reclining. +Her small figure, clad in a simple black frock, gives the impression of +extreme youth, which impression is heightened by the fact that her +curly, yellow hair, reaching barely to the nape of her neck, is caught +together by a black ribbon like a schoolgirl's. But when one looks more +closely into her pale face, one realises somehow that she is a woman and +a woman who has suffered--who still suffers. + +On the ground facing the younger woman a red-headed young man in white +flannels is squatting tailor-fashion. He is holding out an empty cup to +be refilled. + +"Not another!" exclaims the little old lady in a horrified tone. "Why, +you have had three already!" + +"My dear Trevie, let me inform you once and for all that I have +abandoned my figure. Why should I persist in the struggle now that Anita +refuses to smile on me? When one's heart is broken, one had better make +the most of the few pleasures one can still enjoy. So another cup, +please." + +Anita took no notice of his sally; her eyes were fixed on the distant +horizon; she seemed absorbed in her own thoughts. + +"By the way," remarked Campbell casually as he sipped his tea, "I spent +last Sunday at Geralton." He watched Anita furtively. A faint flutter of +the eyelids was the only indication she gave of having heard him, yet +Guy was convinced that she was waiting breathlessly for him to continue. + +"How is Lord Wilmersley?" asked Miss Trevor with kindly indifference. + +"Very well indeed. He is doing a lot to the castle. You would hardly +know it--the interior, I mean." Although he had pointedly addressed +Anita, she made no comment. It was only after a long silence that she +finally spoke. + +"And how is Valdriguez?" she inquired. + +"Much the same. She plays all day long with the dolls Cyril bought for +her. She seems quite happy." + +Again they relapsed into silence. + +Miss Trevor took up her knitting, which had been lying in her lap, and +was soon busy avoiding the pitfalls a heel presents to the unwary. + +"I think I will go for a walk," said Anita, rising slowly from her seat. +There was a hint of exasperation in her voice which escaped neither of +her hearers. + +Miss Trevor peered anxiously over her spectacles at the retreating +figure. + +Campbell's rubicund countenance had grown strangely grave. + +"No better?" he asked as soon as Anita was out of earshot. + +Miss Trevor shook her head disconsolately. + +"Worse, I think. I can't imagine what can be the matter with her. She +seemed at one time to have recovered from her terrible experience. But +now, as you can see for yourself, she is absolutely wretched. She takes +no interest in anything. She hardly eats enough to keep a bird alive. If +she goes on like this much longer, she will fret herself into her grave. +Yet whenever I question her, she assures me that she is all right. I +really don't know what I ought to do." + +"Has it never occurred to you that she may be wondering why Wilmersley +has never written to her, nor been to see her?" + +"Lord Wilmersley? Why--no. She hardly ever mentions him." + +"She never mentions him," corrected Guy. "She inquires after everybody +at Geralton except Cyril. Doesn't that strike you as very suspicious?" + +"Oh, you don't mean that----" + +He nodded. + +"But she hardly knows him! You told me yourself that she had only seen +him three or four times." + +"True, but you must remember that they met under very romantic +conditions. And Cyril is the sort of chap who would be likely to appeal +to a girl's imagination." + +"Lady Wilmersley in love! I can't believe it!" exclaimed Miss Trevor. + +"I wish I didn't," muttered Guy under his breath. + +She heard him, however, and laid her small, wrinkled hand tenderly on +his shoulder. + +"My poor boy, I guessed your trouble long ago." + +"Don't pity me! It doesn't hurt any longer--not much at least. When one +realises a thing is quite hopeless, one somehow ends by adjusting +oneself to the inevitable. What I feel for her now is more worship than +love. I want above all things that she should be happy, and if Cyril can +make her so, I would gladly speed his wooing." + +"Do you think he has any thought of her?" + +"I am sure he loves her." + +"Then why has he given no sign of life all these months?" + +"I fancy he is waiting for the year of their mourning to elapse. But I +confess that I am surprised that he has been able to restrain his +impatience as long as this. Every day I have expected--" + +"By Jove!" cried Campbell, springing to his feet, "there he is now!" + +Miss Trevor turned and saw a tall figure emerge from the house. + +Being plunged suddenly into the midst of romance, together with the +unexpected and dramatic arrival of the hero, was too much for the little +lady's composure. Her bag, her knitting, her glasses fell to the ground +unheeded as she rose hurriedly to receive Lord Wilmersley. + +"So glad to see you! Let me give you a cup of tea, or would you prefer +some whiskey and soda?" She was so flustered that she hardly knew what +she was saying. + +"Thanks, I won't take anything. Hello, Guy! You here? Rather fancied I +might run across you." + +Cyril's eyes strayed anxiously hither and thither. + +"Looking for Anita, are you?" asked Guy. + +"I?" Cyril gave a start of guilty surprise. "Yes, I was wondering where +she was." His tone was excessively casual. + +"Humph!" grunted Campbell contemptuously. + +"She has gone for a little walk, but as she never leaves the grounds, +she can't be very far off," said Miss Trevor. + +"Perhaps--" Cyril hesitated; he was painfully embarrassed. + +Guy came to his rescue. + +"Come along," he said. "I will show you where you are likely to find +her." + +"Thanks! I did rather want to see her--ahem, on business!" + +"On business? Oh, you old humbug!" jeered Campbell as he sauntered off. + +For a moment Cyril glared at Guy's back indignantly; then mumbling an +apology to Miss Trevor, he hastened after him. + +They had gone only a short distance before they espied a small, +black-robed figure coming towards them. Guy stopped short; he glanced at +Cyril, but the latter was no longer conscious of his presence. Without a +word he turned and hurriedly retraced his footsteps. + +"Well, Trevie," he said, "I must be going. Can't loaf forever, worse +luck!" His manner was quite ostentatiously cheerful. + +Miss Trevor, however, was not deceived by it. "You are a dear, +courageous boy," she murmured. + +With a flourish of his hat that seemed to repudiate all sympathy, Guy +turned on his heel and marched gallantly away. + +Meanwhile, in another part of the garden, a very different scene was +being enacted. + +On catching sight of each other Cyril and Anita had both halted +simultaneously. Cyril's heart pounded so violently that he could hardly +hear himself think. + +"I must be calm," he said to himself. "I must be calm! But how beautiful +she is! If I only had a little more time to collect my wits! I know I +shall make an ass of myself!" + +As these thoughts went racing through his brain, he had been moving +almost automatically forward. Already he could distinguish the soft +curve of her parted lips and the colour of her dilated eyes. + +A sudden panic seized him. He was conscious of a wild desire to fly from +her presence; but it was too late. He was face to face with her. + +For a moment neither moved, but under the insistence of his gaze her +eyes slowly sank before his. Then, without a word, as one who merely +claims his own, he flung his arms around her and crushed her to his +heart. + + +THE END + + + + +_A Selection from the Catalogue of_ G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS + + +The House Opposite + +_A Mystery_ By ELIZABETH KENT + +Author of "Who?" + + +"It is a very hotbed of mystery, and everything and everybody connected +with it arouses curiosity.... The plot is unusually puzzling and the +author has been successful in producing a really admirable work. The +climax is highly sensational and unexpected, ingeniously leading the +reader from one guess to another, and finally culminating in a +remarkable confession."--_N. Y. Journal._ + + +Beyond the Law + +By Miriam Alexander + +_The Great Prize Novel Awarded Prize of $1,250.00_ + +_Endorsed by A. C. Benson, A. E. W. Mason, W. J. Locke_ + + +"We have individually and unanimously given first place to the MSS. +entitled 'Beyond the Law.' It is a lively, unaffected, and interesting +story of good craftsmanship, showing imagination and insight, with both +vivid and dramatic qualities." + +The scene is laid in Ireland and in France, the time is the William of +Orange period, and deals with the most cruel persecution against the +Catholics of Ireland. + + +The Way of an Eagle + +By E. M. Dell + +_Frontispiece in Color by John Cassel_ + +"_A born teller of stories. She certainly has the right stuff in +her._"--London Standard. + +"In these days of overmuch involved plot and diction in the writing of +novels, a book like this brings a sense of refreshment, as much by the +virility and directness of its style as by the interest of the story it +tells.... The human interest of the book is absorbing. The descriptions +of life in India and England are delightful.... But it is the intense +humanity of the story--above all, that of its dominating character, Nick +Ratcliffe, that will win for it a swift appreciation."--_Boston +Transcript._ + +"Well written, wholesome, overflowing with sentiment, yet never mawkish. +Lovers of good adventure will enjoy its varied excitement, while the +frankly romantic will peruse its pages with joy."--_Chicago +Record-Herald._ + + +Through the Postern Gate + +A Romance in Seven Days. (Under the Mulberry Tree.) + +_By_ Florence L. Barclay + +Author of "The Rosary," "The Mistress of Shenstone," "The Following of +the Star." + +"_A masterpiece._"--Phila. Ledger + +"The well-known author of 'The Rosary' has not sought problems to solve +nor social conditions to arraign in her latest book, but has been +satisfied to tell a sweet and appealing love-story in a wholesome, +simple way.... There is nothing startling nor involved in the plot, and +yet there is just enough element of doubt in the story to stimulate +interest and curiosity. The book will warm the heart with its sweet and +straightforward story of life and love in a romantic setting."--_The +Literary Digest._ + +_Nearly One Million copies of Mrs. Barclay's popular stories have now +been printed._ + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WHO?*** + + +******* This file should be named 35205.txt or 35205.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/5/2/0/35205 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://www.gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: +http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + diff --git a/35205.zip b/35205.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e1f7d61 --- /dev/null +++ b/35205.zip diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0627bc1 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #35205 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/35205) |
