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diff --git a/57415-0.txt b/57415-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9133df0 --- /dev/null +++ b/57415-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6637 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 57415 *** + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +Transcriber's Notes: + 1. Page scan source: Google Books + https://books.google.com/books?id=fhsCAAAAQAAJ + (Oxford University) + + + + + + +THE +MYSTERIES OF HERON DYKE. + +A Novel of Incident. + + +By the Author of +"In the Dead of Night," "Brought to Light," etc. + + +IN THREE VOLUMES. +VOL. III. + + + + +LONDON: +RICHARD BENTLEY AND SON, +Publishers in Ordinary to Her Majesty the Queen. +1880. +[_All Rights Reserved_.] + + + + + +CONTENTS OF VOL. III. + +CHAPTER + I. WHO DID IT? + II. WHAT PRISCILLA PEYTON HAD TO TELL. + III. MALACHITE AND GOLD. + IV. MR. CHARLES PLACKETT IS PUZZLED. + V. A FRUITLESS ERRAND. + VI. COUNSEL TAKEN WITH MR. MEATH. + VII. A STRANGER AT THE ROSE AND CROWN. + VIII. TOGETHER AT LAST. + IX. IN THE DUSK OF EVENING. + X. THE TRUTH AT LAST. + XI. CONVERGING THREADS. + XII. MORE SURPRISES THAN ONE. + XIII. THE LAST MYSTERY SOLVED. + + + + + + + + +THE +MYSTERIES OF HERON DYKE. + + + + +CHAPTER I. +WHO DID IT? + + +Never as long as Ella Winter lives will she forget the picture that +imprinted itself on her brain, as instantaneously as though it had +been photographed there, at the moment when, startled by Aaron Stone's +cry, she stepped out of the window of the sitting-room. On the borders +of the lawn, at the foot of a large holly-bush, the leaves of which +glistened brightly in the morning sun, knelt Aaron, his rugged +features working convulsively, his trembling arms twined round the +unconscious form of him who lay there in all the moveless majesty of +death. One glance at the white set face, and Ella knew that the +wanderer, whose absence had caused so much speculation, had come back +at last, but that whatever secrets he might have in his keeping would +remain secrets still, and would never be whispered in mortal ear. The +pulses of her life stood still as she gazed in her shock of +bewilderment. + +The old man's voice broke the spell: he saw her standing there. + +"Oh, ma'am, my dear young mistress, it is my boy! My boy come back to +me--dead. There has been murder done here!" + +A shudder ran through Ella. Murder! Was it true?--or was old Aaron +demented? + +She rushed indoors to the sitting-room, ringing its bells as they had +never been rung before; and then she sank into a chair. Never had Ella +Winter been so near fainting. + +The servants came running in, and she strove to collect her thoughts. +Some one ran to the huge bell that rang in the stable-yard, and +sounded a peal upon it. It brought forth the coachman, Barnet. John +Tilney came up with one of his men. + +Barnet satisfied himself that Hubert Stone was really dead, also that +he had in all probability been murdered; he then sped back to his +stable-yard, and saddled a horse to ride forth in search of a doctor. +"Fetch the nearest doctor you can find," had been Miss Winter's +gasping order to him, and he hastened to obey it. By Barnet's orders +the groom rode forth on another horse to summon the chief-constable +from his office at Nullington. + +The frightened maids had gathered round Miss Winter, when Dorothy +Stone appeared in the doorway, tying her cap-strings with +trembling fingers. The bells and the commotion had startled her, but +she did not know what had happened. At sight of the patient, furrowed +face and the dim blue eyes, just now full of anxious wonder, a great +pity took the heart of Miss Winter, and the tears filled her own eyes +as she went up to the old woman and led her away. No need for her to +know the terrible news just yet. + +Mrs. Toynbee next appeared upon the scene; she had waited to dress. +Her first act was to order the white-faced servants away to their +duties; her second to speak with John Tilney. It was by her directions +that he and his two men--for the other man had come up now--carried +the ill-fated young fellow into a room on the ground-floor. Then, +with much tact and gentleness, Mrs. Toynbee succeeded in persuading +Aaron, who seemed half-stupefied with grief and horror, to allow +himself to be got into his own apartments by Tilney. Nothing more +could be done till the arrival of the doctor and the police. + +Dr. Spreckley and Mr. Chief-Constable Wade reached Heron Dyke +together, driving over in a gig from the Rose and Crown. The first +thing they did was to look at the dead. That Hubert Stone had been +murdered a very slight examination sufficed to prove. He had been +stabbed through the heart with a stiletto or some other sharp +instrument. The disordered state of his attire, as well as the +condition of the trimly-kept gravel walk, showed that he had not met +his fate without a struggle; some desperate encounter must have taken +place. + +But what had brought him there? Why had he come back to Heron Dyke in +the night-time?--or perhaps it might have been at the first glimmer of +dawn. These were the questions that ran around. Miss Winter's +thoughts, which she kept to herself, ran in somewhat a different +groove. Might he not have come back by train the previous day, she +asked herself, and have intended to call on her in the evening, and +been afraid or ashamed to do so, and so have lingered about the +grounds until it was too late? Too late also, perhaps, to gain +admittance to his old rooms at the lodge? and so he had probably paced +about during the night hours, and had disturbed the thief or thieves +in the act of rifling the bureau Miss Winter's mind lost itself in +troubled conjectures. + +Examination showed that a hole had been cut with a diamond in the +window of the room where the jewels lay, the window opened, and the +shutters forced from their hinges. The bureau must then have been +opened by means of a chisel, or other blunt instrument, and the jewels +stolen from their receptacle. Most probably it was at the moment the +burglar was leaving the room with his booty that he was encountered by +Hubert Stone; perhaps seized by him. How the probably unequal struggle +had ended was but too terribly manifest. Apparently nothing in +Hubert's pockets had been touched. His watch, chain, and leather purse +were all there, but no letters or papers of any kind from which a clue +might be obtained as to his recent movements, or to the place from +whence he had come. + +"His watch has stopped at twenty minutes past two," observed Dr. +Spreckley, who was making this examination with Mr. Inspector Wade. +"And that may have been the time of the fatal occurrence, poor fellow. +What's in here, I wonder?" + +The Doctor was opening the gold locket attached to the watch-chain, as +he made the last remark. And it was as well, perhaps, all things +considered, that the inspector did not hear it--that he had turned +momentarily away. For inside the locket was a portrait of Miss +Winter. Dr. Spreckley's eyes opened, in more ways than one. + +"Presuming rascal!" he involuntarily cried, apostrophising the +unconscious dead. "My poor young man, you must have been more silly +than I gave you credit for. I'll take possession of this, any way: no +good to let the world see it," he decided, as he dexterously removed +the likeness and slipped it into his waistcoat pocket. + +"What's that?" asked the inspector, coming back. + +"Only this," said Dr. Spreckley, exhibiting the empty locket. + +That the person or persons who committed the robbery had also +committed the murder, appeared perfectly conclusive to Inspector Wade; +and so he informed Miss Winter, with whom he requested an interview. +Of course she had herself drawn the same conclusion. He then asked +Miss Winter whether she had the slightest suspicion with regard to the +honesty of any of her servants. It was quite evident that the thieves +must have had some acquaintance with the house, and knew the exact +spot where to look for the jewels, and they had apparently made no +attempt to obtain any other booty. + +Miss Winter replied, in most decisive terms, that she had not the +slightest reason to suspect the honesty of any person about her. + +"But, indeed," she added, "it is impossible that any of the servants +can be guilty. They were not even aware of the existence of the +jewels, much less of the place where they were deposited. Those were +facts known to no one save myself and Mrs. Toynbee." + +The chief-constable, who had a pencil in his hand, passed it once or +twice thoughtfully across his lips. + +"Pardon me the remark, Miss Winter," he said, looking up, "but may I +ask how it came to pass that you found no safer receptacle for this +valuable amount of property than an old bureau in a sitting-room on +the ground-floor--and which has a window opening to the ground? Any +tyro of a burglar could force an entrance in ten minutes." + +"But," she objected, "how was any burglar to know that such property +was there?" + +"It seems, madam, that one, at all events, did know it. It--pardon +me--seems like throwing temptation in a thief's way." + +"I again repeat that their being deposited there, and also that such +jewels were in existence, was an entire secret between myself and Mrs. +Toynbee," she replied. "Had it not been so, I should have removed them +to a safer place. If you will listen a moment, Mr. Wade, I will tell +you how it all came about, and how the jewels were found." + +He listened as she related the facts: how she had caused this +long-unopened old carved bureau to be brought downstairs to her +morning-room, that she might search it for certain papers relating to +the estate, which she fancied might be in existence. She failed to +find the papers; but, to her intense surprise, she found, in a secret +drawer, this large quantity of jewels. Mrs. Toynbee was present, and +she had warned her that nothing must be said to the servants. Mrs. +Toynbee fully agreed with her. After examining the jewels, they were +replaced in their hiding-place, until she could see Mr. Daventry, and +talk the affair over with him. + +"It is impossible," concluded Miss Winter, looking at the inspector, +"that the facts can have become known." + +Mr. Wade, somewhat mystified, made no reply for a moment or two. + +"But you cannot fail to see, madam," he urged, "that the fact of your +having found the jewels must have leaked out somehow, as well as a +knowledge of the place where they were placed. This burglary was no +mere happy-go-lucky affair; it was evidently premeditated--carefully +planned beforehand." + +"It certainly does seem like it," admitted Ella. "But I assure you I +cannot understand it. Mrs. Toynbee----" + +"I think I had better see Mrs. Toynbee." + +Mrs. Toynbee was called in, and came, full of nervous trepidation. She +had been sitting upon pins and needles, as old Dorothy Stone would +have expressed it, ever since Mr. Wade had been shut in with Miss +Winter. The inspector noted her aspect, and took the bull by the +horns. He did not say to her: "Madam, have you mentioned the fact to +any one that such jewels were found?" He said, "To whom did you +mention it?" + +Her colour went and came; her heart was beating; her trembling fingers +could not hold the needle--for she had some wool-work in her hands. + +"I am afraid that I have been very thoughtless and foolish," she +began, with a quaver of the voice. "Of course, I quite understood that +no mention of the jewels was to be made in presence of any of the +domestics, but it never struck me that the prohibition was intended to +be a general one. You may remember, my dear Miss Winter, that I went +to The Lilacs, in your place, on Thursday afternoon, to the tea-party. +And--and, somehow--we ladies were all talking together; one topic led +to another--and----" + +Mrs. Toynbee broke down, from sheer nervousness. + +"And you told of the finding of the jewels, and where they were +deposited," spoke up the inspector. + +"It was led up to," she said, excusing her self in the best way she +could, and hardly able to keep from tears. "The ladies had been saying +to me that I must find a country life very much lacking in excitement, +after the metropolis; to which I replied that we were not always +destitute of excitement, even in the country; and I--I then did speak +of the jewels. But who was to imagine," she added, plucking up a +little spirit, "that even the smallest danger could exist in +mentioning it among ladies? They are all well-known; as trustworthy as +we are." + +"Do I gather, madam, that only ladies were present?" said the +inspector. "No gentlemen?" + +"It was a meeting for ladies only," replied Mrs. Toynbee. "One +gentleman came in towards the last--Mr. Philip Cleeve. He came to +fetch his mother. I remember he made a remark to the effect that the +bureau was not a very safe place to leave the jewels in." + +"A very sensible remark to make, under the circumstances," returned +the inspector, drily. "Madam, can you give me the names of the ladies +who were present?" + +"Oh yes," replied Mrs. Toynbee; "we were not many--eight or ten, or +so." And she succeeded in remembering all the names. + +They were all well-known gentlewomen--all trustworthy, as the +inspector had reason to know and believe. + +"One of them must have mentioned it abroad, in the hearing of some +dangerous ears," he said to himself. "Madam," he added, aloud, to Miss +Winter, "I will not detain you further at present; but it may be +necessary to see you again." + +"Whenever you will, Mr. Wade," she sighed. "It is a dreadful thing +altogether--and very mysterious. It seems to me that we have had +nothing but painful mysteries for some time now at Heron Dyke." + +The chief-constable glanced rather keenly at Miss Winter, in answer to +this, and took his leave. As he closed the drawing-room door Mrs. +Toynbee's suppressed tears burst forth. + +"I am heartbroken, my dear," she sobbed--and, in truth, she did seem +bitterly repentant: "perfectly heartbroken to think that any +thoughtless remarks of mine should have conduced in any way to this +terrible catastrophe. I never thought that anything I might say in a +moment of confidence----" + +"I should not have thought there was much danger in it myself," +interrupted Miss Winter, kindly. "Do not distress yourself. They must +have talked of it again, you see; and so it must have got about, and +come to the knowledge of improper people." + +"Oh dear!" wailed Mrs. Toynbee. "Yes, that is how it must have been. I +wish I had known nothing about the jewels!" + +Leaving her to her repentant sorrow, Ella went to see after poor Mrs. +Stone. + +Dorothy--she knew the worst now--was in her own sitting-room, leaning +back in an easy-chair before a good fire, attired in her Sunday gown +and cap--a soft black twill, trimmed handsomely with crape; a cap of +white net and black gauze ribbon--for they were yet in deep mourning +for the Squire. Perhaps some vague idea of its being a sort of holiday +for the old woman would do no work that day--had induced her to put +these best things on. + +At Dorothy's age the outward signs of great emotions last but for a +little while. Tears may come, but they do not flow so plentifully as +in youth: the springs are deeper down, and more difficult to reach, +and when found are sometimes almost dry. As age creeps on, and one or +other of our loved ones drops silently from our side, it seems but +such a little time till we hope to see them again, the period of +separation is so short, as they are we ourselves shall so soon be, +that we cannot mourn their loss with that intensity which we should +have felt in youth, when the plains before us stretched to a limitless +horizon, and our heartstrings were responsive to the slightest touch. + +The young mistress sat down beside Dorothy, and took one of the old +woman's withered hands between her own. That soft, warm, caressing +touch unsealed again the fountains of the aged heart. With her other +hand she lifted a corner of her apron to her eyes. For a minute or two +neither of them spoke. + +"What a handsome, brave lad he was, Miss Ella!" cried Dorothy at +length. "Fit to be a lord's son, any day; and with as bold and +masterful a spirit as any gentleman need wish to have: and now to +think of him lying there, white and cold and dumb--he that had a laugh +and a ready word for everybody. Alack! alack! if I could but be lying +there instead of him!" + +"My poor Dorothy! I do indeed feel for you." + +"I knew when I saw the headless horses and the black coach that night +in the park that there would be a death among us before long," she +continued; "but I little thought my own bright boy would be the one to +go. Ah! we never know; we never know. Though he was ill that night +with his throat; and that might have whispered to me that the +apparition was for him." + +"Dorothy, do not dwell upon such things." + +"Miss Ella, trust an old woman who has had a vast experience of life. +Such signs and tokens are not sent for nothing, though some folks may +laugh at you for heeding them. They are warnings from another world," +added the old woman solemnly, "and some day it may be made plain to us +why they are sent." + +An inquest was held; some evidence was taken; and then it was +adjourned for a week that the police might have time to make further +investigations. They could not, as yet, learn that one suspicious +person had known of the jewels. + +Of all Miss Winter's friends, the one to make himself most busy was +the Vicar of Nullington. An idle, easy-going man in general, Mr. +Kettle could be aroused in a case like this: all his sympathies were +with Miss Winter, and his curiosity was on the alert. + +"After all," he observed to that young lady, one day when he was +sitting with her to discuss details, "after all, the most mysterious +part of the affair is not the sudden appearance of Hubert Stone on the +scene. I daresay he could readily account for that, poor fellow, if he +were living; perhaps he got in by the mail-train on the Sunday night, +which you know passes at nearly one o'clock in the morning, and did not +care to knock people up. No, the mystery lies in how the information, +as to the hiding-place of the jewels, reached the cognisance of the +rogue who stole them. And really, as Chief-Constable Wade justly +observed, it would seem next to a certainty that the thief must be +someone who had an intimate knowledge of the premises of Heron Dyke. +You must see that, my dear, for yourself." + +"I fear I do," sighed Ella. + +"So far as people's recollection serves, Mrs. Toynbee mentioned simply +that the bureau had been removed to your morning-room: Miss Winter's +morning-room. Now, how should a common thief know which was Miss +Winter's morning-room? It is only since the Squire died and your +return that you have made it such." + +"True," assented Ella. + +"And altogether, taking one thing with another, I feel inclined to +think it might have been no common thief who took them." + +Ella lifted her eyes quickly. "Have you any suspicions?--of any one in +particular?" + +"No, my dear; no," he answered slowly; and, she thought, dubiously. +"We can but wait. Perhaps Wade may ferret out more particulars." + +But, on the same evening, when the Vicar was at home, safe within the +four walls of his study, he dropped a word or two that nearly scared +his daughter out of her senses. Somehow he had caught up a doubt in +his own mind of Philip Cleeve. + +"Oh, papa!" exclaimed Maria, in an accent of indignant horror. + +"I don't say it was he, Maria; I should be very sorry to do that, or +to breathe a syllable of this doubt to any one but you. Still, I +cannot shut my eyes to the fact that things with regard to Philip do +look somewhat suspicious--and Dr. Downes has long thought the same." + +"Papa, papa!" she repeated. + +"See here, child. In all the mysterious robberies that have taken +place, and puzzled us for the past eighteen months, Philip has been +present, beginning with Mrs. Carlyon's jewels. He was at her house the +evening they were stolen; he was with Downes when he lost his +snuff-box--he was with me when my purse disappeared. And, egad, if you +come to that," added the Vicar, speaking rather unguardedly in his +heat of recollection, "he was with Lennox and Freddy Bootle in London +the night they lost things--the one his watch, the other his money." + +"This is dreadful," gasped Maria. "Papa, it is not true; it cannot be. +I would answer for Philip with my life." + +"Very unwise of you, my dear. I have not finished. When that +ridiculous woman up yonder"--pointing his finger in the direction of +Heron Dyke--"blurted out the story of the jewels at Mrs. Ducie's, and +where they were deposited, Philip Cleeve heard her; he was the only +man present. I don't accuse him, I say, Maria, but I cannot get these +truths out of my mind." + +And, for answer, Maria burst into a flood of distressed tears. + +The funeral of Hubert Stone took place, and was attended by half the +population of Nullington. Old Aaron was chief mourner. On the coffin +lay a wreath of exquisite flowers, placed there, before it left the +Hall, by the hands of one by whom the past had been forgiven. + +A day or two later the jury met again. Nothing fresh had been +discovered. The police found out that Hubert Stone had come by train +from London on the Saturday; he had stayed at a small inn a mile or +two away until the Sunday evening, and had then gone out. From that +hour he had never been seen alive, so far as could be traced. + +The verdict returned was wilful murder against some person or persons +unknown. Rewards were offered for any discovery; one by Miss Winter, +another by Government. + +Dr. Spreckley had taken an opportunity of giving to Miss Winter the +likeness he had taken from Hubert's locket. "So foolish of the young +man," he lightly remarked: "but I fancy he had as great a reverence +for you, his mistress, as he had for the Squire." + +"Yes," said Ella. "Thank you. Thank you very much, dear Dr. +Spreckley," she earnestly added. And she put the bit of card-board in +the fire there and then. + +Ella had some intimate friends living close to Norwich: the Cursitors. +Old Colonel Cursitor, he was hale and hearty yet, and the Squire had +been companions in early life. Some of them came over and insisted +upon carrying Ella back with them for a week. And she was glad to +yield; to get away. Mrs. Toynbee took the opportunity to get away +also, and went to stay with her sister in London. + +This need not have been mentioned, but for a little matter that +occurred during their absence. The servant girl, Betsy Tucker, +was taken ill. Her symptoms were those of fever, and old Aaron +protested that she should be got out of the house. "A pretty thing if +the Hall is to be filled with typhus and what not!" he growled--for +Hubert's death did not seem to have sweetened his temper. "A nice sort +of wind-up that would be!" + +"Let her come to me," cried Mrs. Keen, briskly, in whose hearing this +was said; the landlady having gone to the Hall to see the girl. "I am +not afraid it's going to be any thing infectious; I don't think it is. +I knew her mother, you may remember, Mr. Stone." + +Aaron closed with the offer at once. And the first news that greeted +the mistress of Heron Dyke, returning from her week's visit to the +pleasant city of Norwich, was that Betsy Tucker was ill of fever; and +that she had been sent out of the house by Aaron, to get well, or die, +at the "Leaning Gate." + +Miss Winter showed herself to be very angry at the removal. But the +thing was done. + + + + +CHAPTER II. +WHAT PRISCILLA PEYTON HAD TO TELL. + + +In a cheerful room at Heron Dyke, with the morning sun shining upon +it, there sat two young women, busily plying their needles: Miss +Winter's maid, Adèle, and a dressmaker, one Priscilla Peyton. +Priscilla was a homely, pleasant-featured person, between thirty and +forty, who had often been employed at the Hall. They were making a +morning gown for the Hall's mistress. + +"What am I to do?" suddenly cried Priscilla. "It is impossible to get +on without cord. I thought you would be sure to have some up here, or +I'd have brought it with me." + +"We generally do have it--plenty of it, but it was all used up last +week, Miss Peyton," replied Adèle; a steady, dark young woman, who +spoke English and French equally well. + +Miss Winter came into the room at this juncture, and the difficulty +was revealed to her. She said Adèle had better go to the nearest shop, +one at this end of Nullington, and buy some cord. + +But to this order the dressmaker looked as if she would like to demur. +"What is it, Priscilla?" asked Miss Winter. "Can you not spare her?" + +"Well, ma'am, the truth is, I shall be waiting for that frilling she +is hemming." + +"Oh, I will finish that for you, Priscilla," readily replied the young +lady, who had a natural aptitude and liking for work. + +She took a seat by the window; and Adèle departed in search of what +was required. Hemming quickly at the strip of cambric, Ella talked the +while to Priscilla Peyton, whom she had known--and esteemed--for +years. + +"It is some time since you were at work here, is it not, Priscilla?" +she remarked. + +"Well, it is, ma'am. With so many more maids in the house, Mrs. Stone +gets done for her what I used to come to do. The last time I was here +at work was when you were abroad, Miss Ella, and the poor Squire was +lying ill." + +"Did you see him?" + +"Oh no, ma'am: oh no. Nobody used to see him then, save the doctor, +and that. I was here the best part of a week, mending gowns for Mrs. +Stone, and making her a new one. It was only about a fortnight before +the Squire died." + +Ella sighed. Priscilla Peyton, bending over her work, spoke again. + +"I used to think, sitting in Mrs. Stone's parlour, how much I should +like to see him once again; yes, I did, ma'am. I said so one day to +Eliza; and she answered me that I might just as well wish to see the +inside of the moon--that for months and months nobody had been +admitted to see the Squire but those that had the pass-keys." + +Ella, looking up from her work, stared at the neat brown hair and the +neat white cap of the young woman, bending over hers, as if she were +asking some solution to the words. + +"Pass-keys?" she repeated. "What were they?" + +"Keys that would open the green baize doors which the Squire had put +up to shut out his rooms from the rest of the house, and which were +always kept locked night and day, ma'am," replied Priscilla. + +"And who kept these pass-keys?" + +"There were four of them, ma'am," Priscilla said, "and four people had +them, one each. Aaron Stone and poor Mr. Hubert, who is just gone; Dr. +Jago had one, and the nurse." + +Ella paused. "Of what nurse do you speak? My uncle never had a nurse." + +"Indeed he had, Miss Ella. It was a Mrs. Dexter: sent for from London +by Dr. Jago." + +A nurse from London! This was the first time Miss Winter had heard of +the existence of such a person at the Hall. The revelation was not +palatable to her. + +"How long was this Mrs. Dexter at the Hall--do you know, Priscilla?" + +"It was a good while, ma'am; though I can't say exactly. I think she +was here before Christmas--I am next to sure of it. Why yes--I +remember now," quickly added the young woman; "she came in November. I +was up here one wet November day; and while I was drying my petticoats +at the kitchen fire, Phemie whispered to me that she thought the +master must be worse, for they had got a London nurse in the house." + +"Did this nurse remain with my uncle till the last?" + +"She did, ma'am. She left the day after his death, in May." + +Miss Winter said no more; she was thinking. Why was the presence of +this nurse in the house kept from her?--for kept it assuredly had +been. Why and wherefore had the woman's name never been mentioned to +her, or the fact of her having been so long at the Hall? Her uncle had +not spoken of her in his letters, or Hubert Stone in his notes. + +"I saw Mrs. Dexter take her departure," resumed Priscilla, as a bit of +gossip. "A lovely May morning it was, and I had gone to the station to +see my little nephew off by the London train. Mrs. Dexter drove up in +a fly, with a trunk and a little black bag that she carried in her +hand, and I saw her get into the train. It was but the day after the +Squire died; the bells were tolling for him." + +And of course but two or three days before Miss Winter's return. And +yet no one inmate of the Hall had informed her that this nurse had +been there! It was altogether very strange. + +"Did you say, Priscilla, that people at the last were not admitted to +see my uncle, save those who had the pass-keys?" + +"Ma'am, not for months and months. Eliza told me she did not believe a +soul had been allowed to go in to see him since the past November. No +matter who came--the Reverend Mr. Kettle, or any other of the Squire's +old friends, they were never let go in." + +"I wonder why?" involuntarily exclaimed Miss Winter. + +"That I couldn't say, ma'am. Nobody could, I expect, save Dr. Jago. It +must have been frightfully lonely for him, poor sick gentleman! He was +never seen at all, or his footsteps heard, or the sound of his voice, +Eliza said. To the girl it seemed just as though he were shut up in a +living tomb." + +Miss Winter asked no more questions. That something, and of set +purpose, had been hidden from her; some drama enacted within those +walls of which it was intended that she should know nothing, she +fully believed. And there came rushing into her mind Hubert Stone's +words--that if the truth were known she was no more the owner of Heron +Dyke than he was. Again and again she asked herself what the truth +was, and how it could be brought to light. + +Ella carried her trouble to Mr. Kettle, her uncle's friend of many +years. She sat with him in his study, Maria being present. She +revealed to him her doubts; she hinted at Hubert's strange assertion +on the wreck; she repeated what Priscilla Peyton had said, and then +she appealed to him to advise her what she ought to do next. + +The Vicar was not remarkable for penetration or sagacity, but he was a +kindly, well-disposed man where his own ease and comfort were not in +question; and if his words were sometimes weak and ineffective, he +could, when required, put on a very wise and solemn air, which in +itself was a comfort to those who sought his advice. But he really did +not see what advice he could give now. + +"I was, myself," he said, "more surprised and hurt than I can tell you +that for some months before my old friend's death I was denied all +access to him--I, who had been in the habit of calling at the Hall at +least once a fortnight, ay, and oftener, for the last twenty years. +When I found myself rebuffed one time after another, I could hardly +believe that it was the Squire's own personal wish that I should not +see him, although they assured me it was so. Old Aaron would usher me +into a room with as much politeness as he was in the habit of showing +to anybody, and would take in my message. Back he would come; or else +Dr. Jago, or that sly-looking, smooth-tongued nurse, or perhaps Hubert +Stone. But, no matter who came, each had the same tale to tell. The +Squire had had a worse night than usual, or he was asleep, or he was +too weak to-day to see anyone; whatever the excuse might be, I was +never allowed to see him. It was the source of very considerable pain +to me at the time, and I expressed myself rather strongly about it in +my letters to Maria." + +"There _must_ have been something in all this--don't you think so, +sir?" returned Ella. "Something to conceal." + +"It seems like it, my dear; it used to seem like it to me. But I do +not see what it could be; and I am sure I cannot imagine anything that +could tend to peril your inheritance." + +"Nor I," said Ella, "I wish I could. I mean I wish I could see any +solution by which these doubts could be set at rest. The will was +quite in order; Mr. Daventry tells me so----" + +"Having been drawn up by Mr. Daventry, you may be sure of that, my +dear," interrupted the Vicar. + +"The only one thing, he says, that could possibly render it invalid, +is my uncle having died before his birthday," continued Ella. + +"And we know he did not die before it. He lived nearly a month after +it." + +"I--suppose--he--did live?" spoke Ella, with much hesitation. + +"Did live!" echoed the Vicar, in surprise. "Why of course he did. +People saw him and spoke with him. Don't you know that the other Mr. +Denison's lawyer and his clerk came to the Hall two or three days +subsequently to the Squire's birthday, and had an interview with +him?--saw him; conversed with him. How could they have done that had +he not been living? The Squire went into one of his passions, it was +said, dashed his beef-tea, cup and all, into the fire, and abused the +lawyer to his face." + +Ella could not help a smile. + +"Yes," she said, "I was told of that." + +"Then, what else is there to fear? For anyone to come to you and say +that if certain facts were known to the world you would not be +mistress of Heron Dyke, seems to me sheer nonsense--if not malice. +Were I in your place, my dear Miss Winter, I should certainly trouble +myself no further in the matter." + +Ella shook her head. + +"All these arguments seem so cogent, so true--and yet I cannot feel +satisfied. I am at a loss to know what more to do." + +"Do nothing," said the Vicar, decisively. "I think you attach an +exaggerated importance to the words. Some designing rascal it must +have been who spoke them--wanting to swindle money out of you. Give +him into custody should he apply again." + +Remembering how impossible it was that he could apply again, a sad +shade passed over Ella's countenance. The Vicar saw it: and of course +mistook it. He knitted his brow. + +"Take my advice, my dear Miss Winter, and rest satisfied," he said. +"Do not try to create a mystery where none exists, save in your own +imagination." + +There was no more to be said. The Vicar's reasoning and advice had +been much like Mr. Daventry's. Ella wished she could feel as secure as +they felt. + +She and Maria went out together. They were going to the Leaning Gate. +As it was now decided that the fever of Betsy Tucker was not an +infectious one, and as the girl was said to be getting weaker, Miss +Winter considered it was her duty to go to see her. Maria had been +more than once. + +"What do you think, Maria, of the advice your father gave me--to let +this doubt as to my inheritance rest, and be satisfied?" questioned +Ella, as they walked along. "Oh that I could see my way to a little +more light!" + +"Light does not always come when we ask for it, or when we fancy that +we need it most," answered Maria, "and yet it generally comes at the +time that is best for us. You must hope that it will do so in the +present case: that is, if you still feel there is something hidden +that you ought to know." + +"That is just the feeling which I cannot get rid of. Were you in my +place, Maria, what would you do?" + +"I hardly know," answered Maria, slowly. "It seems to me that you are +bound to leave no stone unturned in your efforts to discover the +truth, and this none the less, perhaps indeed rather the more, that +the truth, when revealed, may prove disastrous to you from a worldly +point of view." + +"I can only wait for more light," said Ella, with a sigh. "The +difficulty is, how to get the light--where to look for it." + +"I perceive that," said Maria. "You can but wait and watch. Here we +are!--and there's poor Mrs. Keen." + +Betsy Tucker was in bed, the victim of a distressing kind of low +fever. Dr. Spreckley hoped to bring her through it, but he was not +sanguine. After turning and tossing for hours incessantly, Mrs. Keen +informed them she had now sunk into a troubled sleep. They stood by +the bed in silence, looking at the sick girl's crimson-fevered cheeks. + +"She is light-headed at times," whispered the landlady, "fancying +herself back at the Hall. She starts up in bed, ma'am"--turning to +Miss Winter--"crying out, 'Hush! there are the footsteps in the +corridor again! And now,' she'll go on, 'they are trying the door. +See! see! the handle moves!' and with that, ma'am, she sinks back on +the pillow and buries her head under the clothes. For my part," +concluded Mrs. Keen, "I cannot help thinking it was that night's +fright which has brought on the fever." + +"To what do you allude?" asked Miss Winter. "Has she been frightened?" + +"Why yes, ma'am. But I thought you knew of it, or I'd not have spoken. +It was talked of a good deal at the Hall. She was badly frightened." + +"In what way?" + +"It was the night of the storm a few weeks ago," replied the landlady, +vexed to have alluded to this before Miss Winter, as it seemed she did +not know of it. "Betsy could not get to sleep for the noise; and +between the gusts of wind, when all was momentarily still, she heard +footsteps walking about the corridor outside her bedroom door. After a +time she struck a light, and then, so she says, she distinctly saw the +handle of her room door turn this way and that, as though somebody was +trying to get in; but she had locked it on going to bed. She came down +here to tell me of it the next day, and I tried to persuade her that +it was nothing more than her own idle fancies that had frightened her, +till at last she got quite out of temper with me. It must have taken +great hold of her mind, I'm afraid, by the way she talks of it in her +wanderings now." + +"I never heard anything of this," remarked Miss Winter. "But I cannot +understand why Betsy need have been so much frightened. She might have +guessed that the footsteps were but those of one or other of the +maids, unable to sleep for the storm. And what more natural than that +they should turn the handle of her door, intending to keep Betsy +company?" + +"Yes, ma'am," assented Mrs. Keen, looking down. + +"If I were to allow myself to be frightened by all the unaccountable +noises I hear in the night at the Hall, especially when the wind is +high, I should never care to sleep there again," continued Miss +Winter. "I have no doubt that all old houses are alike in that +respect, especially when many of the rooms are empty." + +"Where is Susan?" interposed Maria, breaking the pause of silence. + +"She is gone out to do some errands, Miss Maria. Susan is a famous +help to me in nursing Betsy." + +"Susan was always very gentle and patient," remarked Ella. + +"And always will be, I hope, ma'am," responded Mrs. Keen. "She is a +girl that has very little to say for herself, as you know, young +ladies. On most points she seems as sensible as other people are, but +now and then her mind seems to go vacant, just as if it couldn't quite +grasp what you are telling her; and her memory is not always to be +trusted. But she's a dear good girl in helping me in the house; I +don't know what I should do without her." + +"Does her sister's disappearance seem to prey upon her mind as much as +it used to do?" and Miss Winter unconsciously lowered her voice as she +put the question. + +"I don't believe it is ever out of her thoughts," answered the +landlady. "I know quite well what Susan is thinking about when she +sits perfectly still, as she will sometimes do for half-an-hour +together, staring straight before her, but without seeing anything. +Katherine's name is never mentioned in her presence now. I think it +best," continued Mrs. Keen, her eyes filling with tears: "though +Heaven knows, my poor lost darling is rarely out of my thoughts." + +"You will of course see that Betsy Tucker wants for nothing, Mrs. +Keen," said Miss Winter, as the landlady attended the young ladies to +the door. "I was very much vexed, as I have already told you, that she +should have been sent away from the Hall: she should not have been had +I been at home. Everything requisite for her shall be sent to her from +my house, and one of the maids shall come this evening to watch by her +for the night. We must not have you laid up." + +"Oh, ma'am, please don't think of me. I am strong, and used to work. +All my anxiety is lest we should not bring her through." + +"Dr. Spreckley assures me that he has still good hopes of her. And he +is, you know, skilful and attentive." + +Ella glanced at the little garden as they left the door. That which +had looked so bright and pleasant in the summer had now little to show +in the faint November sunshine but bare branches, empty beds, and +footpaths strewed with withered leaves. + +"I think Mrs. Keen must be mistaken in fancying Betsy Tucker's illness +has arisen from the fright she got the night of the storm," observed +Miss Winter, after they had walked some little time in silence. "It is +incredible that the mere hearing of footsteps in the corridor, and +seeing her door tried, should have terrified her to any extent. Her +own sense ought to have told her that what she heard was merely the +footsteps of some of the other maids who could not rest on account of +the storm." + +"The girl was very much frightened at the time, I believe," said Miss +Kettle; "though there can be little doubt the impression would have +worn off but for something which she unfortunately heard a day or two +later. Two of the others were conversing about it, not knowing that +she was within hearing; they said to one another that it must have +been the ghost walking at night--the ghost of Katherine Keen." + +Miss Winter's brow knit angrily. "Who were those servants?" + +"Eliza and Phemie. They had carefully kept it from the girl; and her +hearing it was quite an accident. Betsy, it appears, believes in +ghosts; and she confessed to Mrs. Keen she had never had one proper +night's rest since, from fright." + +"I suppose Mrs. Keen told you this, Maria?" + +"Yes. The first time I went to see Betsy." + +Miss Winter sighed. "I do not see what help there is for it. The whole +affair remains as unaccountable as ever it was." + +"Unaccountable, indeed," replied Maria, gravely. "At times when +speaking of it, or hearing it spoken of, I turn shivery, as if I +believed in the ghost myself. Here comes Susan." + +The young girl, pleasant and placid-looking, was advancing with a +basket of marketings. They stopped to speak to her. Miss Winter told +her she was going to send one of the maids down to sit up with Betsy, +and was passing onwards, when the anxious, appealing look in the +girl's wan face arrested her. + +"Did you wish to ask anything, Susan?" + +"Oh, ma'am, if I might!--if I might!" + +"Certainly you may. What is it?" + +"I want to find out where they took Katherine to," spoke the girl in +an urgent whisper. "Perhaps you know, ma'am; you are the mistress; and +whether she is alive or dead." + +"My poor Susan, I know no more about it than you do. I wish I did." + +Susan clasped her hands, "I wonder how much longer we shall have to +wait?" + +"It may be, Susan, that we shall never know. It may be intended that +we shall not know." + +Susan shook her head. "I think it will all be known by-and-by, ma'am. +Perhaps I shall be the one to find it out. I often wake up in the +night and hear Katherine calling to me, only I can't tell where the +voice comes from. I hear it oftenest in the larch plantation at the +back of the Hall when the moon is at the full. But when I try to +follow her voice I get bewildered with the strange fancies that seem +to be dancing and whirling in my head; and sometimes I hear a laugh +close behind me, and then I hurry off home and go to bed, and repeat +hymns one after another till I get to sleep." + +"There, run home now, Susan: your mother is waiting for you," +interposed Miss Kettle with authority--for it was always best to cut +off promptly these dreamy visions of Susan. + +Ever obedient, Susan hastened towards the Leaning Gate, the far-away, +spiritual expression dying out of her eyes. The others walked on, +Maria with her gaze on the ground. + +"Look opposite, Maria. There is some one you know." + +Maria looked across the road, and saw Philip Cleeve, who appeared to +be just as much absorbed as they were, his head bent in deep thought. +He looked like Philip grown twenty years older--Philip without his +elastic tread, his quick walk, his cheerful smile and greeting for +everyone whom he knew. Not until he had nearly passed did he perceive +Miss Winter and Maria. Happening to raise his eyes, he started, +hesitated, flushed to the roots of his hair, lifted his hat, and +hurried on. + +Maria, too, flushed painfully, and a grieved look came into her eyes +as she gravely acknowledged Philip's salutation, and walked on by Miss +Winter's side. + +"You and Philip have not quarrelled I hope, Maria?" + +"Quarrelled--no," answered Maria with a sigh. "But he does not come to +the Vicarage now; papa has forbidden it." + +"He looks changed somehow." + +"So I think. He spends, I believe, too much time in the billiard-room, +and report talks of high play at The Lilacs with Lord Camberley and +others. All these things distress me greatly." + +"Naturally--if you feel a special interest in him," remarked Ella. + +Again Maria's colour deepened. + +"Just before I went to Leamington he asked me to be his wife." + +"Did you refuse him?" + +"For the time being." + +"And you have not yet made up your mind to accept him?" + +"No. How can I? I could never make up my mind unless papa's will went +with it." + +"Perhaps Philip is vexed--disheartened: and so flies to these foolish +courses?" + +"I don't know," sighed Maria. "It would show great weakness of mind, +would it not?" + +"People in love are said to be not always accountable for their +actions. Poor Philip! But you love him still?" + +"I never quite knew till lately what he is to me," answered Maria, in +a low voice. "I have tried not to care for him, but----" + +"You find that you, too, are a little weak-minded?" + +"I suppose so. But he never passed me in the street before without +speaking." + + + + +CHAPTER III. +MALACHITE AND GOLD. + + +Of all days in the week, Saturday was the one most longed for by Ella +Winter. The reason was that it always--or nearly always, for now and +then there was a breakdown or a delay somewhere--brought her a letter +from Edward Conroy. These letters were her greatest comfort in her +perplexities and troubles. She read them and re-read them till she +knew all their sweetest passages by heart. How she longed for his +return that she might tell him everything!--for in truth she sometimes +felt that the burden laid upon her was almost more than she could bear +without help. Were he but here to share it with her! Absence had +enabled her to read her heart in all its entirety, had endeared his +image to her more day by day. Mr. Conroy was not expected in England +until spring; but towards the end of November there came a letter, the +contents of which filled his mistress with unexpected delight. +Conroy's mission in Spain was nearly at an end, and he might be +expected home in three or four weeks--in time, it might be, to eat his +Christmas dinner. He did not tell her that latterly her letters had +filled him with so much uneasiness that he had requested his employers +to relieve him of his duties abroad, or that he had wisely made up his +mind to ascertain for himself, and as quickly as possible, the exact +state of affairs at Heron Dyke. + +Little by little the popular excitement in connection with the murder +and robbery at Heron Dyke began to subside, especially as all the +efforts of the police resulted in no fresh discoveries. People had +talked and wondered till there was nothing left to talk and wonder +about. Fresh topics and other interests began to claim their +attention. The newspapers had ceased to comment on the case, and there +seemed every probability of its adding one more to the long list of +undiscovered crimes. + +One day Mrs. Toynbee, who had been shopping in the town, brought home +a piece of news. Some one had told her that Dr. Jago was about to +leave Nullington, the reason for his departure being that he had +bought a more lucrative practice elsewhere. This set Ella thinking. +Would it not be well, she asked herself, to see this man before he +went away, and try whether she could not elicit from him something of +that which she wanted to know? He had attended her uncle to the last; +he must be acquainted with all that took place inside Heron Dyke +during the time she was away; if any fraud had been at work it could +hardly have been kept a secret from him. She disliked Dr. Jago, but it +seemed to her that she ought not to let him go away without seeking an +interview with him. + +Next morning she finally made up her mind; so the pony-chaise was +ordered round, and she was driven into Nullington. Calling at the +Vicarage on her way, she took Miss Kettle into her confidence. + +"Am I doing right, Maria, think you?" + +"Yes, I think you are." + +"Then you must accompany me. You have no objection?" + +"Not the least in the world." + +Dr. Jago was at home; and the young ladies, leaving the carriage with +the groom, were shown into his consulting-room. Turning round from a +case he was packing, the doctor changed colour, as if from annoyance, +when he saw his visitors. The transitory expression passed, however; +he greeted them civilly, apologising for the disorder of the place, +and invited them to sit. + +"I hear that you are about to quit Nullington, Dr. Jago," began Miss +Winter, as she took the chair he placed. + +"True, madam," he replied. "I have purchased a more lucrative practice +in London. What can I have the honour of doing for you?" + +"I have called to ask you a few questions, Dr. Jago. I hope you will +be able to answer them." + +The Doctor bowed. + +"I was abroad, as you are aware, at the time my uncle died," she +began; "but you saw him, I believe, in your medical capacity, up to +the day of his death?" + +"Yes," he replied. "I saw Mr. Denison daily; and I was with him when +he died." + +"The end, when it did come, was very sudden." + +"Both sudden and unexpected," returned the Doctor. "I was utterly +taken by surprise. I knew, of course, that Mr. Denison's disorder +could have but one termination, but I had no thought that the end was +so near. The heart suddenly failed in its action, and--and all was +over. Only a few hours before, when I was with him, I had detected no +cause for fear." + +"You are aware that previously to last Christmas--in October I think +it was--Dr. Spreckley, who had attended my uncle for twenty years, and +who ought to have known his constitution if it were possible for +anyone to know it, gave it as his decided opinion that Mr. Denison +could not live far into the new year--if so long as that." + +"Mr. Denison himself informed me of that opinion." + +"And yet your skill prolonged his life until nearly the end of May?" + +Dr. Jago bowed again, but said nothing. + +"Then you, although a much younger practitioner than Dr. Spreckley, +must have pursued a very much more efficient mode of treatment with +your patient than that adopted by him?" + +Dr. Jago shrugged his shoulders, leaned forward in his chair, and +smiled faintly. "I have not the slightest wish in the world to +disparage Dr. Spreckley," he said, "but it may be that he is a little +old-fashioned in his ideas; it may be that he has hardly grown with +the times. Medicine has made great strides during the last twenty +years, and a middle-aged country practitioner, unless he be a great +reader and a man of inquiring mind, would find many things taught, and +many theories demonstrated in the schools of London and Paris, which +were hardly as much as mooted when he was a young man." + +All this seemed only fair and reasonable. In any case, Miss Winter was +not prepared to refute it. She paused for a moment or two before she +spoke again. + +"It may or it may not have come to your notice, Dr. Jago," she said, +eyeing him steadily as she spoke, "that there are certain reports +flying about the neighbourhood--reports unpleasant to all concerned, +but which you could no doubt put an end to if you chose to do so." + +"Reports! About what, Miss Winter?" he asked quickly. + +Ella paused: it seemed somewhat difficult to frame words for what she +wanted to say. + +"I hardly know how to put it," she said with a frank smile. "People +have in some way picked up a notion that there was some deceit or +fraud at work in connection with my uncle's death." + +"Oh, have they?" was all the answer the Doctor made, speaking +carelessly. + +"It is said that for some months before Mr. Denison died he was +immured away from everyone except three or four people; that he was +kept under lock and key; that all his old friends were denied access +to him. Also, that at the very time my letters from home informed me +he was growing stronger day by day and week by week, a strange woman, +some London nurse, was in the house, in regular attendance on him. +People naturally ask why there should have been all this mystery +unless there was something to hide. They even go so far as to hint +that the master of Heron Dyke did not live to see his seventieth +birthday." + +Dr. Jago, despite his evident efforts, could not avoid changing +countenance as Miss Winter spoke. His face turned sallow; his eyes +fell. Suddenly he rose and opened the door. + +"Is that you, James?" he called out. But no one answered. + +"I beg your pardon," he said, resuming his seat, and quite calm now, +"I thought I heard my servant knock. About this business, Miss Winter. +If one were to take heed of all the idle tales set afloat by ignorant +and foolish people, one would have little else to do. The late Mr. +Denison was an eccentric man in many ways, as you yourself must be +well aware. He was a man of strong individuality and of crotchety +temper; a man who did very few things in quite the same way as +ordinary people do them. There were, besides, certain peculiar +features in connection with the disposition of his property, which +were well known in the neighbourhood, and which acted as a magnet to +the curiosity of the world. These points being granted, we have at +once a foundation for the most ridiculous fancies and the most +exaggerated gossip; but if we quietly set ourselves to sift these +rumours, what do we find?" + +Ella did not speak. + +"If you will allow me, Miss Winter, I will take the case as stated in +your own words. You say that for some months before Mr. Denison died +he was immured away from everyone except three or four people, and +kept, as it were, under lock and key. Granted; but it was done +entirely at his own request. You perhaps remember something of that +queer crotchet he had in his head that the precincts of the Hall, and +even the Hall itself, were haunted by spies set on to watch him by +certain people--his relatives, I believe, but of that I know little. +This notion seemed to take fuller hold of him as his birthday drew +nearer. He insisted on having his rooms shut in from the rest of the +house; he decreed that only a very few individuals, those whom he +could implicitly trust, should have access to him. None of the +ordinary servants were to go near him; for aught he knew, he would +declare, they might be spies. It was an hallucination I combated as +far as I was able; but contradiction, especially on this point, only +irritated him. More than once it brought on one of his fits of +passion, and so undid, or partially undid, the good I was striving to +do him in other ways." + +This was quite feasible, probably true, and Miss Winter bowed her head +in acquiescence. The Doctor resumed. + +"As regards Mr. Denison's old friends being denied access to him, I +must take on myself a certain measure of blame for what may seem a +somewhat arbitrary proceeding. From the first I gave Mr. Denison to +understand that if he adopted my mode of treatment, perfect quiet and +seclusion were essential to its success, and he agreed with me without +the slightest demur. But I did not at first deny him the sight of +friends: it was only after the visits of some of them, when I saw how +much it excited him, that I was obliged to do so. I begged him to +allow his rooms to be closed to all visitors: had he admitted one he +must have admitted others: I showed him how essential it was that he +should be kept strictly, perfectly quiet; and he agreed. He would +agree to anything, he said, if I could only succeed in keeping him +alive over his seventieth birthday; and I certainly did succeed in +doing that." + +"Did he require the services of a nurse?" + +"Undoubtedly." + +"And was it necessary that she should be a stranger?" + +"In my opinion he ought to have been supplied with a properly trained +nurse long before I sent for one. An old woman, had in haphazard from +the neighbourhood, would have been useless. No one, except we medical +men and those invalids who have tried them, know how invaluable is a +really qualified nurse in a sick-room." + +"I believe that," said Ella, hastily. "But--why was it that the fact +of this nurse having been at Heron Dyke was never mentioned to me? +Neither in the letters I received from home, nor when I returned to +it, close upon the departure of the nurse, was she as much as named to +me." + +Dr. Jago shook his head. + +"I cannot enlighten you there," he answered. "_I_ did not keep the +fact from you. I neither wrote you letters nor saw you on your return. +There could be no reason whatever, so far as I know, why you should +not have been privy to it. What reason could there be? Possibly it may +have been one of old Aaron's crotchets--for he had as many as his +master--that you should not be told." + +Possibly it had been: but Miss Winter still felt in a fog, plausible +though all this was. + +"Can you assure me, Dr. Jago, that the seeing one or two of his oldest +friends would have been absolutely detrimental to my uncle? Say--for +instance--the Vicar." + +"Papa thought it very strange: he thinks it so still, that he was +always denied admittance," interposed Maria, speaking for the first +time. And the Doctor turned sharply to her with a slight frown, as +though he had forgotten her presence. + +"I cannot say it would have been fatally detrimental, but it might +have been," he observed, in answer to Miss Winter. "He himself knew +the danger of excitement, and he was as anxious as I was to guard +against the possibility of it. With regard to the other report you +have mentioned, Miss Winter--that Mr. Denison did not live over his +seventieth birthday--it is, upon my word, too ridiculous a one +to refute. Mr. Denison was seen by many people later and talked +with--talked with face to face. Webb the lawyer saw him, and spoke +with him about his will. Those other lawyers, men from London, had an +interview with him. He was seen by no end of people, musicians and +others, on his birthday night. In the face of these facts, how is it +possible--pardon me the remark, Miss Winter--for you to give ear for a +moment to so absurd a rumour?" + +She sat in thought, not answering. + +"Where was the deception--where the fraud?" he resumed. "Indeed, where +was the necessity for employing any? The great object of Mr. Denison's +life was attained. He had outlived his seventieth birthday, and the +property was his own to will away. Fraud! It is an assertion that +brings with it its own contradiction." + +There was nothing more to be said, nothing more, evidently, to be +learned from Dr. Jago: and with civil adieux on both sides, the ladies +took their departure, the Doctor attending them to the pony-carriage +and handing them into it. At that moment Dr. Spreckley passed on +horseback; he stared profoundly, as much as to say, "What on earth do +you do at that man's house?"--and he almost forgot to salute them. + +Miss Winter sat in deep thought as they drove away. That Dr. Jago had +displayed nervousness, not to say agitation, when spoken to, she had +not failed to observe; it had served to deepen her conviction that +something was hidden which it was intended that she, of all people in +the world, should never know. And although his assertions afterwards +had seemed perfectly reasonable and convincing, she could not get rid +of an uneasy suspicion that the Doctor, metaphorically speaking, had +been throwing dust in her eyes. Any way, she was as far off as ever, +if not farther, from arriving at the truth. + +"What do you think of Dr. Jago?" she abruptly asked Maria. + +"I don't like him at all, Ella. His words are plausible enough, indeed +too plausible, but he seems thoroughly insincere. He is a man whom I +should always mistrust. Have you questioned your servants?" + +"Only old Aaron. And I can get nothing from him. His reasoning is in +substance the same as Dr. Jago's. Maria, I feel _sure_ that some +trickery was at work." + +"I should ask the maids, Phemie and Eliza, whether they noticed +anything strange. They must have been about the house much during all +the time." + +"I think I will. It has crossed my mind to do so, but I feared they +would only make my questions into a source of gossip." + +Miss Kettle paused. + +"Tell me exactly what it is that you suspect." + +"I do not know what to suspect, except that I have a strong idea of +some unfair play having been enacted. There lies my difficulty. But +that it seems so impossible, and so dreadful an idea besides, I might +say that my uncle did _not_ live to see his birthday." + +Maria shivered slightly. + +"Oh, Ella!" + +"It is the bent my fears are taking," whispered Miss Winter. "And in +that case, you know, I am not the owner of Heron Dyke." + +"No, no, Ella, I cannot believe that," said Maria. "Your fears are +making you fanciful." + +That same evening, Miss Winter had the two maids, Phemie and Eliza, +before her, and questioned them of matters respecting the Squire's +last illness. What they had to tell was little more than she had heard +from Priscilla Peyton. For several weeks or months previously to the +24th April, no one in the house, except the four people who were +admitted behind the green baize doors, ever saw or heard anything of +the Squire. + +"Had you reason to think he was _very_ ill?" asked Miss Winter. + +"Ma'am, we could tell nothing," replied Phemie. "He might have been +dead and buried for weeks and weeks, for all we saw or heard of him. +Eliza and I used to say how strange it was: often we listened, often +and often, but never got to hear him; never so much as heard him +cough. Before that Mrs. Dexter came in November, I sometimes took his +sago or his beef-tea to him, but never afterwards." + +"How was it that you never mentioned to me that Mrs. Dexter had been +here? Was it accident? + +"No, ma'am, it was Aaron;" and Miss Winter could not help smiling at +the turn of the sentence. "The day before you were expected home, he +ordered all in the house not to talk of Mrs. Dexter: he thought it +might trouble you to hear that the Squire was so ill as to need a +nurse from London." + +"I suppose you never penetrated beyond the green baize doors, after +they were put up?" + +Phemie glanced at her fellow-servant. + +"Eliza did, ma'am, once. You had better tell of it, Eliza." + +"Tell me all, Eliza; do not be afraid," said Miss Winter kindly, for +the girl looked confused. + +"If you please, ma'am, I was in the passage one day, and saw both the +doors on the jar," began Eliza. "I thought it no harm to go in a few +steps; but I went cautiously, thinking Mr. Stone must be there. +However, I saw nobody; and then I thought Mrs. Dexter must have left +them open by mistake, before she went out. She had gone into +Nullington in a hurry, saying she must see Dr. Jago." + +"Well? Go on, Eliza." + +"I ventured in a little farther, and a little farther," continued +Eliza, speaking freely now. "Everything was silent. I said to myself +that perhaps the Squire was asleep, and then I thought that I should +like to see him once again. The first room I came to was Mrs. +Dexter's; it had been made into a chamber for her. I turned the handle +softly, pushed open the door, and peeped in. There was her bed in +one corner, and by the fire-place was her little round table and an +easy-chair. From this room I went to the next, which was Mr. Denison's +sitting-room. The door opened without making any noise. I peeped in. +There was no one there. The Squire's chair stood by the hearth, but it +was empty, and there was no fire in the grate; it had the look of a +room, ma'am, that had not been occupied for ever so long, and somehow +I turned away with a chill at my heart. The next room was the Squire's +bedroom. I don't think I should have ventured to open the door of +this, but I found it open already. It was standing ajar. I listened +for the sound of Mr. Denison's breathing, supposing that he was +asleep, but I could hear nothing. Then I pushed the door a little +further open and looked in. If you'll believe me, ma'am, he was not +there. No one was there." + +"He must have been somewhere in the room, Eliza." + +"He was not, indeed, ma'am. The room was empty. I could hardly believe +my eyes. I walked across it to the window and back again. The room was +all tidy, like one that is not in use; not as much as a book was +about, or a chair out of place. The bed was made and the curtains +folded upon it." + +This news sounded wonderful. Ella could not speak. + +"I felt quite frightened, ma'am. I said to myself what has become of +the master? and I can't fathom the mystery of where he could be, to +this day." + +"There was a room beyond my uncle's--a dark, unused room," spoke Miss +Winter. "Did you enter that?" + +"No, ma'am. I tried the door of it, but it was locked, and the key +gone. But the Squire, ma'am, would not be in there--in a locked-up +lumber-room. I said to Phemie afterwards----" + +Eliza stopped suddenly and coloured. Her mistress bade her continue. + +"Well, ma'am, when I was telling Phemie of this strange thing, I said +to her that the thought had come over me when I saw the empty bed and +no trace of him in the room, that it looked just as if the master had +been spirited away like Katherine Keen." + +To this Miss Winter said nothing. + +"Was it discovered that you had been in?" she asked. + +"No, ma'am, never; and this is the first time I have talked of it, +except to Phemie. I pulled the baize doors to after me when I came +out, and they shut with a snap. By-and-by, back came Mrs. Dexter; she +asked at once in the kitchen for the Squire's beef-tea, and took it +away with her. But, ma'am, what I cannot imagine is, where the Squire +was all the time." + +Miss Winter could not imagine, either, and lost herself in +unfathomable conjecture. After a few more questions, she dismissed the +maids, charging them not to speak of this. + +The girl, Betsy Tucker, grew worse rather than better; and, +notwithstanding all that skill and good nursing could do for her, Dr. +Spreckley began to despair of her recovery. Miss Winter was startled +one afternoon when Adèle came to her and said Mrs. Keen was asking to +be admitted. + +"Show her in, Adèle," said Miss Winter, in a low tone. She was afraid +the girl was dead. + +"No, ma'am, and I don't think she is any worse," replied the landlady, +in answer to the dread question. "If anything, she's perhaps a little +better. She don't wander quite so much, and that I take to be a good +sign. What I have made bold to interrupt you about, Miss Ella, is +another thing." + +"Sit down while you tell it me," said Ella. + +"Thank you, ma'am. This morning, Betsy, who was quite herself, though +very weak, asked me to put the small trunk, which came with her from +the Hall, upon the bed, so that she might find something," began Mrs. +Keen, taking the chair indicated. "It was a pocket she wanted; and we +were some time finding it, what with her hands being feeble and me not +knowing what it was like--white or coloured. Out of the pocket, when +we had found it, she drew this tiny packet, ma'am, and asked me would +I take it myself up to the Hall and give it safely to Miss Winter?" + +The little packet was neatly folded in tissue-paper, tied round with +narrow pink ribbon. Ella, rather wonderingly, opened it. Amidst some +folds of cotton wool lay a gentleman's sleeve-link. It was of +malachite and gold, of curious and very uncommon workmanship. Miss +Winter had never, to her knowledge, seen it before. "What is it?" she +asked. "Why do you bring it to me, Mrs. Keen?" + +The landlady explained. "Betsy's mind is in trouble about it, Miss +Ella," she began; "in great trouble. It seems that the morning poor +Hubert Stone was found, Betsy, after all was quiet, and the police and +other people had gone, was outside there. She saw something shining on +the gravel, and picked it up. It was this trinket; she thought it very +lovely, she tells me; and on the impulse of the moment she picked it +up and put it in her pocket, thinking it would be a pretty present for +her sweetheart, who is no other than David Beal, the joiner's son. And +I suspect, ma'am, though she has not said as much, that it was just to +be near him she took a situation over here." + +"Very possibly," assented Miss Winter. "But she ought not to have +concealed or kept this." + +"It is that which is tormenting her now, ma'am. She couldn't rest till +I had brought it to you and told you all. The girl says, and I can but +believe her, that in the night, when she was in bed, she saw the wrong +she had done, and repented of it, but was afraid then of confessing. +All kinds of foolish fancies visit us in the night, as you know, Miss +Ella, and she says an idea came into her mind that if she confessed +what she had done and produced the trinket, she might, perhaps, be +accused of having been mixed up with the robbery. So she wrapped and +tied it up, and has kept it hidden in her pocket till now. All her cry +since she came into her right mind is, 'If Miss Winter will but +forgive me!'" + +"Yes, yes; tell her I forgive her, Mrs. Keen. It seems to me that when +we do wrong, our own conscience brings to us our worst punishment. And +I am truly glad that the girl is getting better: I will call and see +her to-morrow. Have you disclosed this to anyone, or shown the link?" + +"Indeed no, ma'am; not even to Susan. It was not my place to do so." + +"Keep it quite secret still," said Ella. "For aught we can tell this +link may afford some clue to elucidate what is, as yet, so dark." + +The landlady took her leave, and Ella locked the trinket safely up for +the present. On the following morning Mrs. Toynbee received a letter +calling her away from Heron Dyke. Her sister in London had met with an +accident, and begged her to come up for a few days, if she could be +spared. + +"Go by all means," said Ella, in answer to Mrs. Toynbee's tearful +looks, as she put the letter into her hand. "Take the mid-day train. +Lonely? Well, perhaps I should feel a little lonely under recent +circumstances if left to myself; but I will get Maria Kettle to stay +with me. It will do her good: she is anything but well." + +Maria was suffering from the effects of a severe cold, caught one +bitter night when returning home from visiting a sick pensioner. Ella +drove to the Vicarage and brought her away. Maria would have said no, +but her father said yes. + +The next day she seemed not at all better, but very poorly and +feverish. Whilst Ella was dressing for dinner Maria came to her room, +asking to be excused from dining: she felt hardly well enough to go +down, especially as they should not be alone. + +Only Mr. Daventry would be there. Ella had met him that morning and +invited him to come: she was uneasy about many things, and wanted to +talk to him. "You shall lie down here, Maria," said she, pushing her +dressing-room sofa close to the fire, "and have some tea sent up. +Adèle shall get it for you." + +Maria lay down on the sofa, wrapping a shawl about her head, and drank +the tea. After that, she fell asleep. Ella was glad to hear it, as it +left her evening free for Mr. Daventry. + +The old lawyer took his departure at nine o'clock. For a few minutes +Ella sat over the fire, musing on the advice he had given her--to be +still for the present; not to take action on any point. From this +reverie she was aroused by the sharp and sudden opening of the door. +Maria Kettle stood there, staggering in, rather than walking, her face +white, her eyes full of terror. + +"Oh, Ella!" she gasped. + +Ella sprang to her feet, her pulses quivering. "You are worse, Maria!" +she cried, "sit down here." + +"No, it is not that--not that," moaned Maria, sinking back in the +large arm-chair, but recently vacated by Mr. Daventry. "I have seen +Katherine Keen." + +"Katherine Keen!" breathed Ella, her lips suddenly becoming dry. +"Impossible!" + +"I should have said the same myself ten minutes ago," returned the +sick girl, as she strove for composure. "But when I tell you, Ella, +that I have seen her, and that I am in possession of my senses, I +think you must believe me." + +Ella Winter shivered, as though a cold wind were passing over her. +Kneeling down, she put her arm round Maria's waist. "Tell me about +it," she whispered. + +"I got warm after I had the tea, and soon fell fast asleep," said +Maria, in a voice hushed and trembling. "I knew nothing more until I +awoke, suddenly and completely, with the strange feeling, which most +people have experienced at one time or another, that some one was +bending over me. My eyes opened widely, as though of their own accord; +and there, bending down and gazing earnestly into my face, was the +face of Katherine Keen." + +"Maria!" + +"I recognised it in a moment. The room was bright with firelight, and +I could not be mistaken. There was the fair hair, with the soft +appealing eyes and the sad and serious look in them that I remember so +well." + +"Did you speak?" + +"For a moment or two we gazed at each other; then I think my lips +formed her name, but whether any sound came from them I cannot tell. +The next thing I knew was that she was no longer there. I started up +and saw a black-robed figure vanish through the open doorway and the +door close noiselessly behind it. For an instant I thought I should +have died." + +"Black-robed," repeated Ella mechanically, remembering that this +apparition had been always so described. + +"She was in black from head to foot. Something black covered her head, +which she held with the fingers of one hand under the chin. With her +disappearance I sprang to the door, opened it, and rushed into the +corridor." + +"After her! You had courage, Maria." + +"I had no courage. I was too terrified to remain alone, and was +hastening to you. She was not to be seen; she had disappeared. A lamp +was burning at the farther end of the passage, but the passage was +quite empty, quite still; not a sound in it, save the beating of my +own heart. Oh Ella! I have heard the mysteries of Heron Dyke spoken +of, but I never thought to witness anything myself." + +"Yes, Heron Dyke has no doubt its unhappy mysteries; has had them for +some time now," sighed Ella, catching up her breath with a sob. "And I +know not how to solve them." + + + + +CHAPTER IV. +MR. CHARLES PLACKETT IS PUZZLED. + + +"Mind, Ella, you have promised to come to me in London during the +autumn, and to stay for a fortnight at least," had been Mrs. Carlyon's +last words to her niece when she was leaving Heron Dyke: and, in +making the promise, Ella Winter had fully intended to fulfil it. But +the autumn was drawing to a close, Christmas would be here before +long, and the visit had not been paid. Circumstances had prevented it. + +But in those circumstances there seemed to be a lull now; and Mrs. +Carlyon took advantage of it. She wrote a pressing letter to Ella. The +cold weather was setting in, she said, her cough was becoming +troublesome, and she had nearly made up her mind to go to Hyères; but +nothing would induce her to go anywhere, until she had seen her niece +again. + +By return of post Mrs. Carlyon received an answer. Ella would pay the +visit at once. On the following day she and Maria Kettle, whom she +begged leave to bring with her, would quit the Hall for Bayswater. + +Change, as Miss Winter knew, would be good for Maria. It might not be +amiss for herself. Truth to tell, Miss Winter had been more disturbed +by her friend's positive assertion of having seen Katherine Keen, than +she cared to acknowledge even to her own mind. Maria Kettle had a fund +of practical good sense, she was not at all romantically inclined; and +Ella could not pooh-pooh her account, strange though it might be, as +she probably would have done that of an uneducated or superstitious +person. + +Maria's account did not stand alone: it was impossible for Miss Winter +not to recall how strongly it was corroborated. She herself had never +forgotten her visit to Katherine's room, when she found the face of +the looking-glass so mysteriously covered up. There had followed the +positive assertions of the two maids, Ann and Martha, that they had +seen Katherine--and both of them had known her well--looking down at +them over the balusters of the gallery. After that came Mrs. Carlyon's +fright; although in her case no face had been seen, but only the +presence of a mysterious something which had brushed past her in the +dusk and vanished. Neither could Betsy Tucker's revelation, that she +had heard footsteps in the corridor outside her bedroom on the night +of the storm, and had seen the handle of her door turned, and the +fright to the girl in consequence, be entirely ignored: for after it +came to Miss Winter's ears, she had made inquiries of her servants, +and could not learn that any one of them had been in the corridor that +night. They had all been too much terrified by the storm, they +declared, to quit their beds. Ella did not, would not, think much of +this incident. The old house was full of strange noises, especially in +stormy weather, and she herself, by giving way to her fancies, could +readily have got into the way of believing that she heard footfalls +and whispers and rustlings, for which she could not account, almost +every night of her life. + +But the strange assertion made by Maria Kettle was a very different +matter; Ella could not help attaching more weight to it than to all +that had gone before: and the extraordinary belief of poor Susan Keen, +that her sister was alive and in the house, occurred unpleasantly to +her mind. Could it be? Could it by any possibility be true that +Katherine Keen was still alive, that she was hiding somewhere in the +old Hall, and came out into the dark corridors on occasion to frighten +people? Was it in very truth she herself, and not her spirit, that had +been seen at different times? Ella's heart ached as it had never ached +before. No, not even when the girl disappeared and could nowhere be +found; though from that day life had never been quite the same to her. +The dreadful uncertainty as to what had become of Katherine had added +tenfold to the pain of losing her, and now, after the lapse of so long +a time, it seemed as if the uncertainty would never be cleared up. But +what if she had been alive all this time; alive, and close by? What if +she had never quitted the roof of the Hall? Ella Winter's good sense +urged her to reject such a theory as utterly untenable, certain +difficulties presenting themselves palpably before her; but it urged +her equally to reject that other theory of supernatural visitations. +Between the two she knew not what to think. That Katherine had really +been seen the evidence seemed conclusive. But had she been seen in the +flesh, or in the spirit? + +When a problem is put before you, which you find it impossible to +solve, however anxious to do so, it is sometimes wise to lay it by for +a while and turn the attention to other things, trusting to "the +unforeseen" to do for you what you cannot do for yourself. Thus did +Ella Winter in the present case. She was puzzled and distressed; and +was growing a little bit nervous besides. Appetite failed; the long +dark nights oppressed her, sleep gave place to wakeful restlessness, +and she began to be afraid of sleeping alone. Therefore it was with a +sigh of relief that she answered Mrs. Carlyon's invitation: and for +the first time in her life she was not sorry to lose sight of the +chimneys of Heron Dyke as the carriage whirled her and Maria Kettle +away to the station. + +Mrs. Carlyon had a surprise in store for her niece, as Ella discovered +on the second evening after her arrival in London. Knowing her aunt's +fondness for company, but being herself in no humour to enjoy it, Ella +had pleaded for no large parties during her stay; that they should +dine quietly _en famille_, and spend rational evenings. To this Mrs. +Carlyon had readily agreed, stipulating, however, that the rule should +be relaxed in favour of two or three people who might be called +friends of the family. + +"In short, my dear," Mrs. Carlyon had said, when talking of it the day +of Ella's arrival, "I promise not to introduce you to a single +stranger except one." + +"Except one!" repeated Ella. + +"Yes, except one. A very nice old gentleman who is between sixty and +seventy years old. You won't surely object to _him!_" + +Ella laughed. She thought she must not hold out against any gentleman +of that age, but rather welcome his acquaintance. + +But Miss Winter was very considerably taken aback when, on +the following evening, her aunt led her up to a little, lean, +finical-looking old man, who wore the attire of a bygone age, a brown +wig, a long bottle-green coat, and curiously fine-frilled cambric +linen, and introduced him: "Mr. Gilbert Denison of Nunham Priors." + +For a moment or two Ella could find no word to say. She had +unconsciously pictured Mr. Denison as a very truculent sort of +individual; as what her uncle would have been with all the more +disagreeable points of his character intensified; as a man who +employed spies, and who would shrink from nothing in his endeavours +to do his kinsman harm. Yet here before her she saw a very +harmless-looking old gentleman indeed, with a puckered-up, comical, +yet honest and kindly face, and dark, vivacious eyes that seemed +brimming over with amusement at her evident discomfiture. + +Mr. Denison took her hand with an old-world air of gallantry, and +touched it with his lips. + +"Enter the First Robber," he said, with one of his whimsical smiles. +"I hope my ferocious appearance does not frighten you, young lady. You +will get used to me better by-and-by, my dear. Why do you look so +surprised? I cannot tell you how pleased I am to meet you." + +He made room for her on the sofa by his side. + +"Say now, I am not the sort of looking person you expected to find." + +Ella smiled charmingly. Somehow she had taken a great and sudden fancy +to him. + +"I had always thought of you as being so different," she said. + +"As an ogre, no doubt," he rejoined, with a comical nod. "I know. Poor +Gilbert! he had his curious fancies, and one of them was to abuse me: +I'm as sure of that as if I'd heard him. My dear, I cannot tell you +how pleased I am to meet you. Confess now, that you had expected to +see some dangerous kind of fellow in me: one that bites, eh?" + +"No, indeed," returned Ella. "I am surprised because I had no +expectation of seeing you." + +"And you find me a worse hobgoblin than you imagined?" + +"I do not find you one at all," she said, taking the place beside him. + +"Well, well; a certain personage is said not to be so black as he is +painted; let us hope that it will prove so in the present case. Ah! +what a pity it is that Frank's not here to-night!" he added, abruptly. + +"Your son, Mr. Denison?" asked Ella, her serious dark-blue eyes bent +full upon him. + +"Yes, my son; my will-o'-the-wisp, my ne'er-do-weel, the plague of my +life," answered Mr. Denison. In his short, sharp sentences, and abrupt +turns, Ella was put strongly in mind of her uncle. + +"I should have been greatly pleased to meet him," she said. "Is he +away from home?" + +"Away from home!" exploded the old gentleman. "He's nearly always away +from home. I never know to a thousand miles where to lay my finger on +him. He might be a gipsy for restlessness. He is always gadding about +from Dan to Beersheba. An incorrigible young fellow--a rolling stone +that will never rest anywhere. I wish to goodness he would get married +to some woman who knew how to tame him and make him settle down at +home!" + +Ella felt amused; her face showed it. Mr. Denison shook his head and +frowned. + +"Now, why couldn't Frank have married you, for instance?" he suddenly +asked, after a brief pause. + +This amused her more. "Dear Mr. Denison, I fear it would be altogether +beyond my powers to tame so inveterate a roamer," she quietly said. + +"Not at all--not at all. You are just the sort of woman to do it." + +It seemed rather doubtful to Ella whether this ought to be taken as a +compliment. + +"It would have been so satisfactory, you know, to have had all the +property in a nutshell--yours and mine," added the old gentleman. "Not +that Frank need covet money: I shall be able to leave him some. But +Heron Dyke ought to have been his--after me; he is nearer to it than +you are. My dear, you have too much good sense, as I can see, to take +offence at an old man's crotchets, and I am speaking to you as friend +speaks to friend." + +"I hope you will always so speak to me," warmly interrupted Ella. + +"So I wish Frank could have known you--and taken a fancy to you, my +dear. But I fear it is too late in the day to hope for anything so +desirable. Frank never was particularly wise, and I have a sort of +suspicion that what he would call his affections are engaged +elsewhere: have thought it for some little time." + +"Then I'm sure there can be no chance for me," cried Ella, merrily. + +"Well, well; anything's better than his bringing over a black woman +for a wife, and that's what I used to be afraid of at one time," +continued Mr. Denison, nodding his head and his brown wig. + +"I hope Frank will find his way back home in spring," he resumed, +after a pause. "If you are in town about that time, Mrs. Carlyon +and I must contrive to bring the pair of you together. There may be +a chance yet. I don't suppose the young dog has forgotten how to +make himself agreeable to the ladies, and he is considered not at all +ill-looking--very much like what I was when younger." + +This tried Ella's gravity a little. "As I think I said before, I shall +be pleased to make your son's acquaintance," she said, demurely. + +"But whether Frank comes home or not, my dear, I must have you down at +Nunham in spring. You will find many things there that you have never +seen before and will have little opportunity of seeing elsewhere. You +are intelligent as well as sensible, and I feel sure that you will be +interested." + +Next to picking up a bargain in the auction-rooms, nothing delighted +Mr. Denison more than to secure an appreciative listener while he +descanted on the rarity and value of some of his favourite +curiosities; and this he found in Ella. Ella on her part was very glad +to have met him. He was a man to esteem and like, despite his +eccentricities: and she felt thankful to know that the breach in the +family, which had existed so many years, was healed at last. Her face +flushed as she recollected that if the fear, tormenting her latterly, +had grounds, Heron Dyke was not hers, but Mr. Denison's. + +She did not see him again during her stay in London, for he went away +to Nunham Priors. Ella was by no means certain, had he remained, that +she should not have imparted to him all her doubts and fears. He and +she were alike honest, wishing always to act rightly. + +Her own stay in London only extended to a week: she did not like to +spare more time from home at present. The week passed pleasantly and +quickly; and both she and Maria Kettle returned to the Hall in better +health and spirits than they were in when they quitted it. + + +Gossip in remote hamlets and small country towns, more especially if +the subject of it be some well-known personage, grows and spreads with +a rapidity unknown to the rankest tropical weed, and Nullington was no +exception to the rule. It had now become matter of common talk in the +town, that there was something mysterious and unexplained with regard +to Squire Denison's death. How or whence such an idea originated, or +what the mysterious something might be, people did not care to ask; +and if they did there was nobody to answer. Facts that are only half +known, or that are wildly guessed at, have always more fascination for +ordinary minds than uncompromising truths that stand boldly out in the +light of day, and which anyone can examine for themselves. + +The Nullingtonians seized on the rumour with avidity, and one may be +sure that it suffered nothing from loss or diminution in its transit +from mouth to mouth. It was not long in reaching the ears of Nixon, +the agent whom Mr. Plackett had formerly employed to report to him +respecting the state of Mr. Denison's health, and the general +progress of matters at the Hall. Nixon had been away from Nullington +for a time, possibly prosecuting inquiries elsewhere, and these +rumours greeted him on his return. Putting aside any pecuniary benefit +he might gain, Nixon was naturally a man of prying and inquisitive +disposition; nothing pleased him better than worming out the secrets +of other people. He went about the town asking guarded questions of +this person and the other, trying to put the various fragments of +gossip together and trace them to their fountain-head. Altogether, he +contrived to make out something like a coherent whole: upon which he +favoured the London firm, Messrs. Plackett, Plackett and Rex, with a +long and confidential letter. + +The letter brought down Mr. Charles Plackett, Nixon meeting him by +appointment at the railway station. The two had some private +conversation together. + +"What we cannot understand in your report is this one item," observed +Mr. Charles Plackett: "that Miss Winter herself suspects some fraud +has been at work, and is as anxious to have matters investigated as we +could be." + +"I assure you, sir, I believe it to be so," affirmed Nixon. "My +information on this point came from a sure source." + +"Well, I intend to go to see her," said Mr. Charles Plackett. + +Nixon opened his eyes. + +"To go to see her, sir! What, at Heron Dyke?" + +"Yes. Why not? It is the only step I can take: and, whether it brings +forth fruit or not, I shall at any rate see how the land lies with +regard to herself. If she is, as you think, anxious for the +investigation, she is a good and honourable young lady; that's all I +can say." + +Mr. Charles Plackett took a fly and drove over to Heron Dyke. He sent +in his card to Miss Winter, and was at once admitted. Ella was alone. +Maria Kettle had returned to the Vicarage, and Mrs. Toynbee was not +yet back from London. Ella knew that the Placketts were Mr. Denison's +solicitors, and she supposed this gentleman had come to bring her some +message from him. That idea, however, was at once dispelled. + +"I am come here this morning, Miss Winter, upon rather a curious +errand," began Mr. Plackett in his cheerful, chirruping way. "But +before going any farther, it may be as well to say that I am come +without the knowledge of my esteemed client, Mr. Denison, of Nunham +Priors. In fact I am adopting a most unusual course with a lawyer; I +am venturing to intrude upon you entirely on my own account." + +Miss Winter bowed. "I shall be pleased to hear anything that you may +have to communicate," she said frankly. + +Mr. Plackett paused. "I am somewhat non-plussed in what way to begin," +he confessed, with a smile. + +"A difficulty, I should imagine, that does not often arise with +gentlemen of your profession," observed Ella, courteously. + +The little lawyer laughed. "I believe you are not far wrong there, +Miss Winter. Perhaps my best plan will be to plunge at once _in medias +res_. I may say, then, that some disquieting rumours have reached our +ears--and when I say 'ours,' in this instance I mean my own--having +reference to certain events which took place in this house during your +absence abroad. The events I allude to are the illness and death of +the late Mr. Denison. What we have heard would almost lead us to +imagine that deception of some kind, if not fraud itself, was at work +in the case; and--and----" + +He paused. Ella waited. + +"Frankly speaking, Miss Winter, I have heard a report that these +rumours have reached yourself; and I am here to ask you--but pray +do not answer the question unless you feel fully at liberty to do +so--whether that is a fact?" + +"Yes, it is," she freely answered. "I have heard the rumours." + +"Ah! Just so. Thank you very much for your frankness. I presume, +however, that you attach very little importance to them?" + +"On the contrary, I attach very considerable importance to them. I do +not say they are true--far from it; on the other hand, I do not know +but they may be. The doubt renders me very uneasy." + +"Really now! I'm sure there are not many young ladies like you, for +truth and candour. But--pardon my presumption--may I ask whether you +have been able to trace the rumours to any foundation? Perhaps you +have not tried to do so?" + +"I have tried," replied Ella. "I have used every effort to track them +back to their source, though it is not much, of course, that it lies +in my power to do." + +"And the result,--if I may dare to ask it?" + +"There is no result. None. I cannot discover whether they are worthy +of belief, or whether they are fabrications. That certain unnecessary +precautions were observed during my late uncle's illness--green baize +doors put up to shield him from the household; friends never admitted +to him; a mysterious kind of professional nurse had down from London +to attend him--is true. But those about him, Dr. Jago and old Aaron +Stone, explain all this away with perfect plausibility." + +Charles Plackett mused. "No, of course not; there was not much you +could do," he remarked, apparently speaking to himself. + +"An individual, whom I will not name, warned me that Heron Dyke was +not legally mine," resumed Miss Winter. "I was startled, as you may +suppose; but I could elicit nothing further. Nothing but what I tell +you--that I held Heron Dyke by fraud." + +"Dear me!" + +"I did not know whether to believe it, or not; I do not know now. I +carried the tale to Mr. Daventry, and I spoke also to my uncle's old +friend, the Vicar of Nullington. Neither of them attached the smallest +credibility to the charge; they almost ridiculed it. Mr. Daventry says +that nothing whatever could deprive me of Heron Dyke, save my uncle's +not having lived to see his seventieth birthday. And several persons +saw him and conversed with him subsequently to that date." + +"I did, for one," remarked Mr. Charles Plackett. "Well, I don't see +that there's much to be done. You say you will not give up the name of +the individual who----" + +"No," she interrupted. "And if I did give it, the end would not be +answered. He--he--is no longer here; he could not be questioned." + +"It is one of the most puzzling questions I ever had to do with, +madam. Heron Dyke is a fine property. You would not like to give it +up." + +"I would give it up to-day if I were sure it were Mr. Denison's. I +wish I was sure--one way or the other. If it is not mine it must be +his, and he would have every right to it. Does he know of this doubt?" + +"Not a word." + +"I met him a short while ago, when I was in London. He came to my +aunt's, Mrs. Carlyon. I took a great fancy to him." + +Mr. Charles Plackett smiled. "And he took a fancy to a certain young +lady--if I may say as much. He called at our office the next day, +before returning to Nunham Priors. What do you think he said, Miss +Winter?--that he did not so much regret the loss of Heron Dyke now, +when he saw what charming hands held it." + +Ella rather shrank from the compliment. "I and my interests are as +nothing, Mr. Plackett, in comparison with arriving at the truth. If +fraud and deception have been at work, it is to the advantage of +everyone that they should be exposed and frustrated." + +Mr. Plackett gazed on her glowing face admiringly. "If everyone +thought and acted like you, my dear young lady," he said, "I am afraid +that the occupation of us poor lawyers would soon become a thing of +the past." + +"That would be a catastrophe indeed," responded Ella, with a laugh. + +A little more conversation ensued. One word leading to another, Ella +confided to him what the servant Eliza had told her--that she had +penetrated beyond the green baize doors, on one lucky occasion when +they were left unguarded, and had found the Squire's rooms empty: Mr. +Denison was nowhere to be seen in them. Nay, more; the rooms and the +bed appeared to be unoccupied. + +Mr. Plackett, though evidently much surprised, could still make +nothing of it. He sat fingering his grey hair--a habit of his when in +thought. Ella finished by inquiring what more she could do. + +"I really fail to see at present that there is anything more you can +do," he answered. "And I am quite sure that not one person in a +thousand would do as much as you have already done." + +"Are you sure it was my uncle you saw," she inquired, speaking on the +moment's impulse, "when you were here two days after his birthday?" + +Mr. Charles Plackett paused, revolving the question. "I thought I was +sure," he said. "Although I had only seen Mr. Denison twice before, +and that some years previously, he certainly seemed to me to be the +same individual, naturally much wasted and changed by illness. One +thing I perfectly remembered: the beautiful cat's-eye ring he wore. +Yes, I think it could have been no other than Mr. Denison--and no +other temper than his. You heard, probably, of the passion he went +into?" + +"And threw away his beef-tea, and broke the cup. Truly I cannot +imagine anyone doing that, save my uncle." + +"I must say that I have not been so thoroughly puzzled by any case for +a long while," remarked the lawyer, as he rose to depart. + +And puzzled Mr. Plackett was destined to remain; at least for some +time yet to come. If Miss Winter had looked to benefit by his advice, +she was disappointed. He had no advice of any consequence to offer. He +could only thank her again for her frankness, and say that he would +consult with his client, Mr. Denison, and, with her permission, write +to her in the course of a few days. Then, declining refreshments, he +left the Hall, much more disquieted in his mind than when he had +arrived at it. + +But within an hour of the lawyer's departure, Miss Winter had +something else to think about than his promise to write to her. There +came a telegram from Edward Conroy. He had reached London, and hoped +to be at Heron Dyke on the morrow. + + + + +CHAPTER V. +A FRUITLESS ERRAND. + + +Matters with Philip Cleeve were not progressing quite to his +satisfaction. Upon going down to breakfast one morning, he was +surprised to find his mother down before him. A notable thing; for +Lady Cleeve was seldom able to rise early. Philip kissed her fondly. + +"This is a rare treat, mother," he said. "It seems like old times come +back again." + +She pressed his hand and smiled tenderly in his bright, handsome face. +"I want to have a little talk with you before you go out, Philip. I +sat up for you last night, but you came home late." + +"Ah, yes, to be sure," replied Philip hurriedly, very conscious that +he was too often late. "I went round to George Winstone's lodgings, +and the time slipped away." + +"So long as you were enjoying yourself, dear, it was quite right," +answered Lady Cleeve. In her eyes Philip could do no wrong. + +"And what is it, mother, that you have to say to me?" he asked, +carelessly taking up a piece of toast and playing with the +butter-knife. He was growing vaguely uneasy already. + +"I met Mr. Tiplady yesterday," began Lady Cleeve: and Philip put down +the knife without using it. His heart sank within him. "I had to call +in at Wharton's about my broken spectacles, and there I found Mr. +Tiplady having a new key fitted to his watch. We came away together, +and I took the opportunity of reminding him of his promise, given so +long ago, to take you into partnership. He had by no means forgotten +it, he said, and was willing that the question should be brought to a +practical issue as soon as I pleased. Of course you will not take a +full share at present: he intimated that: only a small one. But it +will be a very great thing for you, Philip; and you can afford to +wait." + +Philip made no comment upon this. Lady Cleeve continued. + +"I thanked him for his generosity. It _is_ generous of him," she +added, "to admit you with only a poor thousand pounds----" + +"He does not want money," interrupted Philip, resentfully. "Tiplady is +as rich as can be--and he has nobody to come after him." + +"He is none the less generous; many men in his position would not take +in a partner under several thousands of pounds," returned Lady Cleeve. +"What I wanted to tell you was this, dear--that he will probably speak +to you to-day. There need not be any further delay. Mr. Daventry will +draw up the deed of partnership, and nothing will then remain but for +you to pay over the money." + +Philip rose abruptly and pushed back his chair. Then he turned and +gazed through the window to hide his emotion. "You have not done +breakfast, dear," cried Lady Cleeve in dismay. "You have eaten +scarcely anything." + +"I have done very well indeed, thank you, mother," he answered from +the window. "I have one of my headaches this morning." + +"Poor boy! the news is a delightful surprise to him," thought Lady +Cleeve. "Philip is just as sensitive as he used to be." + +Philip got away from his mother and the house as quickly as possible, +walking along the road like a man in a dream. The thousand pounds, or +the greater portion of what was left of it, had gone out of his hands +to Captain Lennox. Or, rather, to that blessed company that the +Captain was just now so eager over. Early though it was, Philip must +see him; and he bent his steps towards The Lilacs. + +As he went along, the thought struck him that he had not seen Lennox +about very lately. The last time Philip called, he was told by the +man-servant that the Captain had gone out for the day, and Mrs. Ducie +was ill with a cold. + +It was a servant-maid who answered Philip's nervous ring at the house +this morning. Her master was in London, she said. + +"In London!" exclaimed Philip. "When did he go?" + +"Rather more than a week ago, I think, sir," was the girl's answer. + +"I want to see Captain Lennox particularly," rejoined Philip. + +"I dare say he will be back soon now, sir. I've not heard that he +means to make a long stay this time." + +Philip pondered. + +"Can I see Mrs. Ducie? Ask her to pardon the early hour and see me for +a minute--if she will be so kind." + +"Mrs. Ducie can't see you now, sir," dissented the maid; "she is not +yet up. Her cold keeps very bad, and she hardly comes down at all." + +"Can you take a message to her?" + +"Oh yes, sir, I can do that. Her breakfast is just gone up." + +"Give my kind regards to Mrs. Ducie, and ask her if she will tell me +when the Captain will be at home." + +The maid ran upstairs and soon came down with the return message. Mrs. +Ducie's very kind regards to Mr. Cleeve, and she had not the least +notion when. Not for a few days, she thought: as his last letter, +received yesterday, said nothing about it. + +Philip turned away from The Lilacs as wise as he had gone, hardly +heeding which way he took, save that it was from the office instead of +to it. Knowing what he knew, he asked himself how it was possible for +him to face Tiplady's inquiries? Out of the twelve hundred pounds +given him by his mother so short a time ago, to be held by him as a +sacred trust, only a balance of eighty-five pounds remained in the +bank. + +It is true that if Captain Lennox's prognostications respecting the +splendid future of the Hermandad Silver Mining Company should prove to +be correct, Philip Cleeve would more than recoup himself in the whole +sum which he was now deficient. When Lennox first bought the shares +for him, he had assured Philip that no further calls would be made: +but despite this assurance two heavy calls had since had to be met, +for "expenses;" calls which had gone far towards exhausting Philip's +remaining resources. Captain Lennox had made no secret of his own +disappointment and annoyance, but he was as sanguine as ever of +ultimate success, and he had put it so strongly to Philip whether it +would not be wiser to double his venture, rather than forfeit the sum +already invested, that the latter had agreed to meet the calls, +although not without a sadly misgiving heart. + +As matters, however, had now turned out, he must find Lennox at once +and show him the necessity for the shares being disposed of without +delay. In that, Philip anticipated no difficulty, as the shares were +so much sought after. Or else he must get Captain Lennox to go with +him to Lady Cleeve and Mr. Tiplady, and explain to them how well the +money was invested, and persuade them that in view of the splendid +profits sure to accrue before long, it would be folly to sell out just +now. Evidently the first thing to be done was to find Captain Lennox. + +A little comforted in mind by the fact of having arrived at some sort +of a decision, he made his way with hesitating steps to the office. It +was a relief to him to find that Mr. Tiplady had started by an early +train for Norwich, and would not be back till night. This gave Philip +breathing-time, for which he was thankful. + +Getting his dinner away, he spent the evening with some friends; and +was careful not to reach home until sure his mother would be in bed. +That night, on his sleepless pillow, he decided on his plans. + +Early in the morning, before Lady Cleeve could be downstairs, Philip +snatched a hasty breakfast and went out. He left a note for his +mother, in which he told her that he had to go suddenly to London on +business, and she was not to be surprised or alarmed if he did not +return till the evening of the following day. Then he despatched a +nearly identical note to Mr. Tiplady, which Philip thought a clever +hit. Lady Cleeve would take it that he was away on business connected +with the office; while Mr. Tiplady would be sure to imagine that it +was on some affairs of his mother he was despatched to London. Making +his way to the railway-station, Philip caught a passing train, and was +whirled away to the metropolis. + +When in London, Captain Lennox generally stayed at his favourite +hotel, the Piazza, in Covent Garden; this Philip knew, and he drove +there direct from the station. The urbane individual who was fetched +to answer his inquiries, and who had more the look of a church +dignitary than of a head waiter, told Philip that, although Captain +Lennox was, as he surmised, frequently at the hotel, he had not been +there lately. For the past six weeks, or so, they had not seen him, +neither were they in a position to afford any information as to his +whereabouts. All that Philip could do was to dissemble his +disappointment and go. + +This seemed to Philip a worse check than the one at The Lilacs the +previous morning. Halting in the street, he bethought himself what he +could do--where look for Lennox. Only one place presented itself to +his mind: and that was the office of the Hermandad Company. It was +situate in the City, New Broad Street. If he did not see the Captain +there, he should at least hear where he was to be found. But Philip +thought he most likely should see him. + +Half an hour's drive in a hansom cab took him to Broad Street; and to +the proper number, at which the cabman readily drew up. But Philip +could not so easily find the office he was in search of. On a large +board outside the doorway were painted up the names of some thirty or +forty different firms or companies, each of them occupying offices in +the same building. Philip at length discovered the name he wanted, the +last but two on the list, and was directed to mount to the third +floor. + +On the third floor--and a very dingy, unwholesome-smelling floor it +was, for the building was an old one--he found the Hermandad office. +Philip's imagination had led him to fancy the offices of so important +a company as rather grand and imposing: this did not look like it. The +door was shut, and he could not open it. He knocked again and again, +but without response. While wondering at all this, and standing to +think what he could do next, an opposite door was opened, and a +sharp-looking youth came out. + +"Nobody at home here apparently," remarked Philip, pointing to the +door. "What's the best time to find them in?" + +"Don't know," answered the youth, twisting his mouth into a grin. +"Nobody been here for a fortnight, but a boy to fetch letters." + +"Nobody been here for a fortnight!" exclaimed Philip. + +"Nobody else. Not likely. Silver-mining company, hey! Oh, Jemima!" + +Philip could have wrung the boy's neck. + +"Are you one of the green 'uns?" continued he. "Lots of 'em come. No +use, though; not a bit; only have to go away again. Fishy--awful! Next +akin to smashing up." + +With these strange remarks, the boy shot off, sliding down the +banisters; leaving Philip feeling sick at heart. + +The Hermandad mine had evidently failed, and its company come to +grief. A suspicion stole over Philip that Captain Lennox might be more +hardly hit than the world suspected, and was keeping out of the way. + +What to do, he knew not. Was there anything that he could do next, +except go back home and reveal everything to his mother? He had tasted +nothing all day, save his morsel of breakfast; and, although he had no +appetite, he felt so faint that he knew he must take refreshment of +some kind if he did not wish his strength to break down. Turning into +the nearest restaurant, he called for a glass of wine, and tried to +study the carte; but the names of the different dishes conveyed no +definite ideas to his mind. + +"Bring me anything you have ready." he said wearily to the waiter; "a +basin of soup will do." And then he lay back in his chair and shut his +eyes. + +The waiter had just put some soup before him, and was about to take +off the cover, when Philip started to his feet with an exclamation. +"By heavens! I never thought of that!" Staring around, he sat down in +a little confusion: for the moment he had forgotten where he was. The +waiter looked askance at him, to discover whether he was mad. + +But the fact was that Philip had had what seemed to him nothing less +than a flash of inspiration. He had suddenly remembered that there was +such a person as Freddy Bootle in existence. Why not go to him in his +trouble? Freddy was rich, and as kindhearted as he was rich; he was +not the sort of man to allow a friend to sink for want of a helping +hand: in any case Philip felt sure of his sympathy and advice. Eating +his soup with some degree of relish, he paid, and drove off in a +hansom to Mr. Bootle's rooms in Bond Street. + +Philip felt desperate. Especially at the thought of having to reveal +his folly to his mother, and her consequent distress. That seemed +worse than the loss of the money itself. Never had his conduct, his +almost criminal weakness, presented itself to him in so odious a light +as now. Had the money been absolutely his own, had it been bequeathed +to him by will or come to him by any mode other than that by which it +had come, he could have borne to lose it with comparative equanimity. +But when he called to mind the fact that the sum which it had taken +him so short a time to dissipate was the accumulation of long years of +patient pinching and hoarding on the part of his mother, that it +represented many a self-denied luxury, many a harmless pleasure +ruthlessly sacrificed, and that all this had been done to ensure the +advancement in life of his worthless self, he was almost ready to +think that the sooner the world were rid of him the better for +everyone concerned. How could he ever bear to face again that mother +and her thoughtful love?--how witness her pained face when he should +declare his folly? _Must_ she be told? If only Freddy Bootle would +give him a help in this strait, what a different man he would be in +time to come! + +It was a break in the bitterness of his thoughts when the cab drew up +at Mr. Bootle's lodgings. Philip was not kept long in suspense. An +elderly man answered his knock and ring. The elderly man was sorry to +say that Mr. Bootle was in Rome at present, and was not expected back +till after Christmas. + +"Was there ever so unlucky a wretch as I?" murmured Philip to himself, +as he turned, more sick at heart than ever, from the door. His one and +only hope had failed him. + +The short winter day was drawing to a close, and the lamps were being +lighted as he turned into Piccadilly. He wandered about aimlessly for +some time, into this street and that, stopping now and again to stare +into a shop-window, or at the unending procession of vehicles in the +busier streets, and then wandering on again without seeming to see +anything. + +All at once he was startled into the most vivid life. Coming +towards him, but yet a little distance away, and with several of the +hurrying crowd between them, he saw Captain Lennox. The light from a +shop-window shone full on his pale, strongly-marked features, and +there could be no mistake. Philip sprang forward eagerly, and the +sudden movement seemed to have the effect of attracting the Captain's +glance towards him. For one brief moment there came, or Philip thought +there did, a gleam of recognition into those steel-blue eyes; the +next, they and their owner were alike hidden by the intervening crowd. + +Philip Cleeve shouldered his way along more roughly than he had ever +done before; in a few seconds he was standing on the exact spot where +he had seen Lennox, but that individual was no longer visible. He had +vanished as completely as if the earth had swallowed him up. Philip +stared about him, like a man suddenly moonstruck, unheedful of the +jostling and elbowing of the passersby. Up the street and down the +street he gazed, but no Captain Lennox was to be seen. What _could_ +have become of him? + +"Surely he need not hide himself from me!" thought Philip. "We are +both in the same boat." + +Looking about for the Captain, in a sort of amazed doubt, Philip saw +that he stood close before the open door of a large drapery emporium, +Was it possible that Lennox had taken refuge inside? No sooner did the +thought flash across Philip's mind, than he marched boldly into the +shop. There were several people there, customers and assistants, but +no signs of the man he was seeking. A civil assistant came up to ask +what they could serve him with, and Philip frankly avowed the cause of +his entering. A friend--a gentleman--had suddenly disappeared before +he could reach him; he could only think he had entered the shop. + +"Very possibly," the young man replied; and as he was not to be seen +in it now, he might have passed through it, and left by the opposite +door. + +Then Philip saw that the shop was what might be called a double one; +that is to stay, that it had a door and window opening into another +street. Had Lennox walked in at one door and out at the other, without +stopping to purchase anything? It was the conclusion Philip came to. +He recognised the uselessness of further pursuit of Lennox. It was +clear that the Captain had purposely evaded meeting him: the reason +for such evasion was not far to seek. Philip purchased a pair of +gloves, and then pursued his aimless way, weary and downcast. + +Where should he go, and what should he do? He knew not, and he did not +greatly care. He was there alone in the huge wilderness of London, +without one living creature that knew him or that cared for him. It +was not too late to take the last train home; but he had a fixed +repugnance against doing so. Why hasten to meet his mother's +reproachful eyes, and Mr. Tiplady's incisive questionings? And yet, if +he stayed the night in London, he must face those ordeals on the +morrow. What could the morrow bring him, more than to-day had brought? +Still he wandered aimlessly on, through one mile of street after +another, his thoughts brimming over with bitterness at the +recollection of all his mad folly. What now to him but mad folly +seemed those nights at The Lilacs when, flushed with wine, he had +staked his mother's savings on the turn of a card, and had seen the +gold, hoarded by her for his sake, swept almost contemptuously into +the pockets of such men as Camberley and Lennox, who, the moment his +back was turned, probably sneered at him as a jay parading in +peacock's plumes? What now to him, but folly, seemed the spells which +he had allowed to be woven round him by the witcheries of Margaret +Ducie? In his heart of hearts he had never really cared for her, +however much at the time he might fancy that he had--not even when her +hold over him had seemed the strongest. And now, when he looked back, +she assumed in his thoughts the semblance of one of those specious +phantoms, lovely to look upon, but who seem sent only to lure +weak-minded fools to destruction. + +Poor Philip! From the burning thoughts within him rose next another +phantom. Nothing specious about _her_, but pure and saint-like as a +lily steeped in dew--the image of Maria Kettle. Had he indeed lost +her? He knew now how much she was to him; that he had never loved but +her. + +Yes, she was surely lost to him for ever. He would have no home to +take her to, and no prospect of winning a position for himself: a life +of commonplace drudgery, of separation from the only woman he had ever +loved, or could love, was all that now lay before him. + +Still onward, ever onward, went he in his pain. + +"Oh, my darling, you might have saved me if you would!" he cried. "You +might, you might!" + +Still onward, ever onward. From tower and steeple the hours were +clanged out one after another, but he heeded them not. It was close +upon midnight when he found himself standing on one of the great +bridges that span the Thames. Far away into the blackness on either +side of him the great city spread itself out, seeming to his +imagination, at that hour, like some huge monster that was slowly +settling itself down to sleep. Silently below him ran the sullen +river, stealthily carrying its dread secrets down to the sea. Here and +there a few feeble lamps mocked the darkness. + +Philip Cleeve stood and gazed over the parapet into the black-flowing +stream below. How many unhappy men might not have flung off life's +bitter burden at that very spot! How easy the process! A leap, a +plunge, a minute's brief struggle, and then the deep, deep sleep that +knows no waking. Could it be really wrong to throw away that which was +no longer of any value, that which had become a burden and for which +he no longer cared? The question kept coming back to him with a sort +of dreadful fascination. He could hear the faint lapping of the tide +against the piers; and, the longer he gazed down at the water, the +more it seemed to whisper to him of peace and rest, and a quiet ending +to all his troubles. Why not quit a world in which there no longer +seemed a place for him? Why not? + +Suddenly there arose a sound behind him, as of the quick patter of +feet. Before Philip had time to interfere, before he well knew what +had happened, a female figure, scantily clad, and with hair flying to +the winds, had sprung on one of the stone seats, and thence on to the +parapet. For one brief instant she stood thus, dimly outlined against +the starlit sky; then, with hands clasped above her head, and a low, +wild cry, she sprang headlong to her death. + +A little crowd gathered, as if by magic, where there had seemed to be +scarcely anyone a minute before. Faint at heart, dizzy with the sudden +horror of the thing, Philip Cleeve fell back from the rest. What were +his little troubles compared with those which must have driven that +poor desperate creature to destruction? The black, sullen river had +suddenly become hateful to him, and he made haste to leave it far +behind. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. +COUNSEL TAKEN WITH MR. MEATH. + + +Anxious revelations were those which Ella Winter had to pour into the +ears of her lover! For he was by her side now, not to leave her for +long together again. The cloud, which during the last few months had +been lowering over her life, was lightened at last; the burdens which +had been growing too heavy for her to bear, were lifted now upon +shoulders stronger and more able to sustain them. Suspense and +distress lay around her still; but, compared with what had been, she +walked in sunshine, gladness in her eyes and in her heart, and Love's +sweet whispers in her ears. + +Edward Conroy took up his quarters at the hotel in Nullington, whence +he walked over frequently to Heron Dyke. Mrs. Toynbee, back at the +Hall now, was not slow to perceive the state of affairs. She wrote to +her friend and patroness, Lady Dimsdale, that she was afraid she +should have to look out for another home before long: for, unless she +was much mistaken, Miss Winter was about to marry. The gentleman, she +was good enough to say, was a very pleasant, nice-mannered person, +named Conroy; but it seemed to her a great pity that Miss Winter had +not chosen someone more nearly her equal in the social scale. + +The weather was mild and open for the time of year, and Conroy and +Ella were much out of doors. During these rambles, the conversation +often turned upon past affairs--and many a consultation took place as +to what could be done to bring to light all that still remained +doubtful and obscure. + +There was so much of it--taken as a whole. So many points that +presented their own difficulties. The doubt as to whether Ella was the +legal inheritor of Heron Dyke; the disappearance of Katherine Keen, +and the superstition that arose out of it; the murder of the ill-fated +Hubert Stone, and the robbery of the jewels: all these were matters of +grave perplexity, upon which no light had yet been thrown. + +Edward Conroy was puzzled by it all--just as Mr. Charles Plackett had +been. He seemed never to tire of questioning Ella on this point and on +that, and made notes sometimes of her answers: but he was none the +nearer seeing his way to any elucidation. + +"Have you fully calculated what the result to yourself will be if it +is discovered that fraud has been at work?" he said to her one day, +when they had been speaking of what had happened at Heron Dyke during +her absence. + +"Fully," replied Ella. + +"Home, money, and lands--all will go from you." + +"I know it. But would you have had me act otherwise than as I have +acted?--would you have had me keep the doubt to myself?" + +"Not for worlds." + +"I think--I think, Edward, you are as anxious to discover the truth as +I am." + +"Quite as anxious." + +"Although it be against your own interest. After all, it may be that +you will have a penniless wife, compared with the rich one you +expected." + +"So much the better. She will owe all the more to me, and the world +cannot then say that I have married her for her fortune." + +"As if you cared for anything the world might choose to say!"--and to +this remark Mr. Conroy slightly laughed in answer. + +He had not been more than a day or two at Heron Dyke, when Miss Winter +put into his hands the malachite and gold sleeve-link which Betsy +Tucker had sent her by Mrs. Keen. Betsy was recovering slowly from her +illness; all danger was over. + +"I should like to see the young woman, and question her," observed he, +turning the link about in his hand, as he examined it critically. + +"There will be no difficulty," said Ella. "Betsy has been out for one +airing, and she can come here. Why do you look at the trinket so +attentively? Have you ever seen it before?" + +"Never. But it is one of rather remarkable workmanship." + +A fly brought Betsy Tucker to the Hall. There, in the presence of Mr. +Conroy, she was requested to point out the place, as nearly as she +could recollect it, where she had picked up the link. It was within a +few yards of the spot where Hubert Stone was found. The girl had +nothing more to tell, and sobbed out her contrition for her fault. +Miss Winter was everything that was kind; but Mr. Conroy, speaking +sternly, warned her not to disclose a word to anyone about the affair +or there was no telling what the consequences to herself might be. The +girl, with many tears, promised faithfully to keep the secret, and +seemed only too glad to be let off so easily. + +The sleeve-link had not belonged, so far as could be ascertained, to +Hubert: whether it had, or had not, been the property of his +assailant, was another matter. If so, it must have been wrenched from +his sleeve during the scuffle; and, as Edward Conroy shrewdly +remarked, it proved that the assailant was a gentleman. No man in an +inferior station would be likely to wear such a link. + +"I shall run up to town to-morrow," said Edward Conroy to Ella, when +the interview was over and they were alone. + +"To town! For anything in particular?" + +"Merely to put this malachite and gold trinket into certain hands," he +added. "If this link can be traced out to its owner, it may lead to +some discoveries." + +Mr. Conroy accordingly went to London. This, it will be noted, was +within two or three days of his first arrival at Heron Dyke. He +returned from London the following day, having put matters, together +with the sleeve-stud, as he informed Miss Winter, into efficient +hands. Taking up his abode, as before, at Nullington, he passed a +considerable portion of his time at Heron Dyke. + +Months before this, Conroy had heard tell of the strange disappearance +of Katherine Keen; but only now was he made aware that the Hall was +supposed to be haunted by her presence. He listened to the story of +how the two maids, whom Aaron Stone had afterwards discharged in +consequence, had positively asserted that they saw her looking down +upon them from the gallery; he heard the story of Mrs. Carlyon's +fright, and of Maria Kettle's strange experience not long ago. The +evidence, taken collectively, was too strong to be altogether ignored, +despite his inclination so to treat it. + +"I wish the ghost would favour me with a visit!" he heartily +exclaimed. "I would do my best to put its unsubstantiality to the +proof." + +"I know not which would be the worse: to find that Katherine is +in the Hall in the flesh--that she is not dead, as her poor sister +believes--or that the house is haunted by her spirit," breathed Miss +Winter in answer. + +"Have you any objection to my exploring this north wing?" he inquired, +after a pause of thought. + +"Not the least. I should be thankful for you to do so." + +Mr. Conroy lost no time. That same afternoon he ascended to the north +wing; and did not come down until he had visited every nook and corner +of it. Room after room, passage after passage, closet after closet, he +examined, and satisfied himself that no person or thing was hidden in +them. Taking the precaution to lock the doors, he brought the keys +away with him. + +"Troubled spirits never walk by daylight, I believe," remarked Mrs. +Toynbee to him. She had never relished the superstitious tales. "We +must look for them by dark, Mr. Conroy, if at all." + +"That is just what I mean to do," replied Conroy. + +And accordingly he took to rambling about the north wing in the dusk +of evening, in the hope that, one time or another, he should encounter +the supposed ghost. He would sit for half an hour at a time, silent +and immovable, in the darkest corner of the gallery, with no company +but the mice busy at work behind the wainscot. "I may have to wait for +weeks," he said to Ella, "but if there be any ghost at all, I shall be +sure to see it by-and-by." + +One evening when dusk was creeping on, a certain Mr. Meath arrived at +the Hall, a telegram to Conroy having given previous notice that he +might be expected; and he was at once admitted. + +The stranger was the chief of a well-known inquiry-office in London: +it was to him that Conroy had confided the sleeve-link. He was a tall, +lanky, angular-boned man of sixty, with dyed hair and a slow, +deferential smile. He always dressed in black, as being the most +becoming wear for a gentleman, and that he invariably looked the +latter Mr. Meath was fully persuaded; whereas he had in fact more of +the air of a prosperous undertaker than of anything else. In his +peculiar profession he was known to be a shrewd and practised man. + +He was shown into one of the smaller drawing-rooms. No sooner had +Edward Conroy entered it and sat down, than Mr. Meath arose and +satisfied himself that the door was really shut, and that no one was +hidden behind the curtains. + +"Excuse these little precautions, sir," he said with his deferential +smile, "but I have more than once had occasion to prove the value of +them." + +"Oh, no doubt. Your telegram stated that you had some news for me, Mr. +Meath," added Conroy. + +"I have some news for you, sir--news which may prove of importance. +Before proceeding any further in the matter, I thought it would be as +well to let you know the result already arrived at, and take your +instructions with regard to future proceedings." + +Hitching his chair nearer the table, Mr. Meath drew forth a little box +from one of his pockets. "Here is the sleeve-link," he said, as he +opened the box. "You have doubtless observed, sir, that it is of +rather a curious and uncommon pattern?" + +"Yes. If you remember I said so when I saw you in town." + +"On examining this under a powerful glass," continued Mr. Meath, "I +presently detected what I felt nearly sure could be nothing less than +the private mark of the firm that had manufactured it. I took the link +to the foreman of a large firm of jewellers with whom I had had some +transactions previously, and he at once confirmed my view. 'There +could be no doubt it was the manufacturer's mark,' he said. The +question was--who were the manufacturers?" + +"He did not know." + +"He did not know, sir. But he thought he might be able to find out, if +I would leave the link with him for a couple of days. Which I agreed +to." + +"And did he?" asked Mr. Conroy. + +The private-inquiry officer solemnly nodded. + +"At the end of the couple of days he sent for me, sir, and told me he +had discovered the private mark to be that of Messrs. Wooler and +Wooler, of Piccadilly. An eminent firm--as perhaps you know, Mr. +Conroy." + +"I have heard the name." + +"To Messrs. Wooler I accordingly went, disclosed as much of the affair +to them as was necessary, and stated what I wanted to know. They were +most obliging, and at once promised to consult their books. Yesterday +they sent for me. They had found from their books that the sleeve-link +I now hold in my hand was one of a pair which, together with various +other articles of which they were good enough to furnish me with a +list and description, had been supplied by them about four years ago +to a certain Major Piper, then living at Cheltenham. May I ask you, +sir, whether you happen to be acquainted with any such gentleman; or +whether he is known in this neighbourhood?" concluded the speaker, +after making a brief pause. + +"I am not. And I cannot tell you whether he is known in the +neighbourhood: I am nearly a stranger to it myself. But I can inquire +of the ladies here," added Conroy, rising to quit the room. + +He returned, saying that Miss Winter did not know anyone of the name. +Mrs. Toynbee did. She had met a Major Piper once or twice in society, +but not lately; and she believed him to be a highly respectable man. +"I have the Major's address at Cheltenham in my pocket-book," said +Meath; "or rather what was his address four years ago. It is quite +possible that he may have gone away from the town, or have died in the +interim. + +"Very possible indeed," answered Conroy. + +"It rests with you to decide whether you think it worth while to +proceed any farther in the case. If this Major Piper be still at +Cheltenham, there will not be any difficulty in finding him: if he is +not, there may be, especially should it turn out that he is what we +call a shady individual. Difficulty, and also expense." + +"Having gone so far, I certainly think we ought to go farther," +answered Conroy. "Are you not of that opinion yourself?" + +"I am, sir: but, as I say, it is for you to decide. We have got hold +of a clue of some sort. Whether it will lead us up to what we want to +know, time and perseverance only can prove." + +"I certainly think Major Piper ought to be found. As to expense, I +gave you carte-blanche for that when I was in London." + +"Then I will proceed in the matter without delay," said Mr. Meath, +rising. "And I hope, sir, I shall shortly have something further to +report to you." + +"You will take something before you go away," said Conroy, ringing the +bell. + +Putting down the hat he had taken up, Mr. Meath acknowledged that he +would be glad of something. A tray of refreshments was brought in; and +presently he had departed as silently as he had come. + +A few days elapsed, during a portion of which Edward Conroy was away +upon his own affairs. Close upon his return, Mr. Meath again made his +way to Heron Dyke, calling, as before, in the dusk of the evening. +Miss Winter had grown anxious as to the result of the inquiries, and +she told Edward Conroy that she should like to be present during the +interview, if there were no objection. + +There was no objection, Conroy said, and took her into the room with +him. They all sat down together. + +"I have been more successful than I ventured to anticipate," began Mr. +Meath, in his slow way--which Edward Conroy somewhat impatiently +interrupted. + +"Then you have found Major Piper?" + +"I have found Major Piper, sir: I had very little difficulty in +finding him. He is not at Cheltenham now; he is at Bath; though +Cheltenham is his general place of residence. Major Piper is a retired +Indian officer, well known and respected." + +And the account of the interview may possibly read less complicated if +related as it took place, instead of as repeated by Mr. Meath. + +He saw Major Piper at his lodgings at Bath: a little man, who had one +of his gouty feet swathed in flannel. Mr. Meath disclosed his +business, and put the malachite and gold sleeve-link into his hands. +The Major recognised it at once, and smiled with pleasure. + +"Ah," said he, "I don't forget this. It formed one out of a dozen, or +so, small articles of value which disappeared from my dressing-case at +Cheltenham under mysterious circumstances. It was about--yes--about +four years ago. I had bought the jewellery in London, intending it as +a present to my nephew on his twenty-first birthday. However, the very +evening before it was to have been sent off, the things disappeared +from my dressing-case." + +"Had you any suspicions as to who could have taken them?" inquired Mr. +Meath. + +"No, I was utterly nonplussed: and am so still when I think of it," +answered the Major. "I had some friends that night at my rooms, just +enough to make up a couple of rubbers, all gentlemen of position who +were more or less known to me. Early in the evening, when telling them +what I had bought for my nephew, my man Tompkins brought in the +dressing-case at my desire, and passed round the jewellery for the +different guests to look at. After that, Tompkins took it away and put +it back where he had found it--in one of the deep drawers in my +dressing-table, but without locking it up; not, indeed, seeing any +necessity for doing so. He----" + +"I presume, sir, your man was trustworthy?" interrupted the listener. + +"Perfectly so. Tompkins had been with me for years in India, and is +with me still. The loss troubled him, I think, more than it troubled +me. Not, of course, that I cared to lose the things!" + +"Did any of the gentlemen enter your dressing-room during the +evening?" + +"Dear me, yes. It adjoined the sitting-room, and some of them were in +and out. Candles were alight in it. Well, the next day, when the small +case of jewellery came to be looked for, it was nowhere to be found; +nor, so far as I am aware, has anything been heard of it from that day +to this." + +"Sir," said Mr. Meath, "was it possible that any person could have had +access to your dressing-room in the course of the evening, while you +and your visitors were busy at the card-table?" + +"No, that could not be," answered Major Piper. "To get access to the +dressing-room, they must have passed through the room where we sat, or +else through a little anteroom on the other side of the dressing-room, +and Tompkins sat in the ante-room the whole evening long." + +"Did you put the matter into the hands of the police?" inquired Mr. +Meath. + +"I had it inquired into privately by the police," replied the Major, +"but I would not allow it to be made public. On the one hand it was +impossible for me to suspect my servant; while on the other I did not +choose to have it thought that I suspected any of my guests. It was a +most disagreeable affair, and worried me a good deal at the time. I +was always hoping that something might turn up; but I suppose it has +grown too late in the day to expect it now." + +"I don't know that," said Mr. Meath. "This sleeve-link may prove the +connecting link between your robbery and the still darker crime +recently enacted at Heron Dyke: that is, it may lead to the discovery +of both perpetrators, who may prove to have been one and the same man. +Will you, sir, oblige me with the names of the gentlemen, so far as +your memory serves, who made up your card-party on the night of the +loss?" + +"There can be no objection to my doing that," said the Major; "and I +hope with all my heart it may prove of use to you. I can tell you +every name, for the night and its doings lie with unfaded impression +on my memory." + +Mr. Meath took down the names from his dictation, as well as the +date when the robbery occurred. They all appeared to be men of +standing--most of them of undeniable connections. + +"Two of them, Dr. Backhouse and my old comrade, Sir Marcus Gunn, are +dead," remarked the Major. "Of the others, two are living in +Cheltenham; one lives abroad, attaché to an embassy; and one or two +have passed out of my knowledge. They may be living anywhere: the +world is wide." + +"Will you point out those one or two to me?" asked Mr. Meath--and +Major Piper did so. + +Such was the substance of the narrative Mr. Meath had now to relate at +Heron Dyke. + +"I have brought the list of names with me," he added to Mr. Conroy, +when he finished. "Perhaps, sir, you and this lady will be good enough +to look at it, and to tell me whether any one of the gentlemen is +known in this neighbourhood." + +Edward Conroy took the paper handed to him, and ran his eyes over the +list, but without the least expectation of finding on it any name that +he should recognise. Mr. Meath watched him with a kind of suppressed +eagerness. + +"'Admiral Tamberlin,'" read out Conroy, in a muttered tone, "'Doctor +Backhouse, Sir Gunton Cleeve----'" and, before speaking the next name, +he came to a dead standstill. Mr. Meath, the suppressed eagerness +still in his eyes, smiled grimly to himself when he saw Conroy's start +of surprise. + +For a moment Conroy stared at the name, which he had not yet spoken, +in speechless amazement. Then, recovering himself, he passed the paper +to Miss Winter without a word, simply pointing with his forefinger to +the name. + +"Oh, impossible!" exclaimed Ella, her tone full of fright, her face +turning white as death. + +"Madam," interposed Mr. Meath, detecting her emotion, "it does +not follow that because a gentleman may have been wearing these +sleeve-links now, he was the one to steal them from Major Piper. The +thief may have sold them, and he bought them legitimately." + +"But see you not, sir," cried Ella, grasping the case mentally, "that +if this gentleman made one of the Major's guests that evening, and it +was he who lost the link in the struggle here with Hubert Stone----" + +She paused, unable to continue. Mr. Meath slowly nodded his head. + +"Yes, madam, I see the difficulties--if this gentleman is indeed known +here----" + +"Known here! why, he lives here," interrupted Ella. "Oh, Edward, it +cannot, cannot be!" + +"My dear, you go to Mrs. Toynbee," whispered her lover. "Say nothing +to her. Leave me to deal with this." + +"But, Edward--surely you will not accuse him!" she cried aloud. + +"Of course I will not. It may be that this dreadful suspicion can be +cleared away. Mr. Meath"--looking at that able man--"must make it his +business to ascertain first of all, if he can, whether grounds for +accusing him exist." + +And, opening the door for her to pass out, Conroy resumed his seat at +the table. + +Again Mr. Meath left the Hall as quietly as he had entered it. Edward +Conroy joined the ladies, and found that not a word had been spoken to +Mrs. Toynbee. He stayed to dine with them. + +The winter afternoon had deepened to a still, close evening, when Mr. +Conroy once more took his way to the north wing--for his watchings +there had not ceased--before quitting the Hall for the night. The +incident of the afternoon had disturbed him greatly, while Miss Winter +felt thoroughly upset. His thoughts were bent upon it as he passed +silently through the passages: of Katherine Keen this night he never +once thought. Perambulating the still and deserted corridors, his mind +utterly preoccupied, he came last of all to the gallery. He knew every +nook and corner of the wing by this time, and could find his way about +it in the dark almost as readily as by daylight. In one corner of the +gallery was an old oak chair, and on this he now sat down, almost +without being aware of what he did. Meath's news was working in his +brain, bringing him disquiet and perplexity. + +He might have sat for five minutes or for twenty, he could not tell +which afterwards, when the deathlike silence that brooded over the +place was suddenly broken. All at once a low, sweet, wailing voice +spoke through the darkness--a woman's voice, with tears in it: "Oh! +why don't you come to me? How much longer must I wait?" + +Only those few words, and then utter silence again. Conroy started to +his feet with an exclamation of surprise. He had been so immersed in +his sombre meditations, he was so utterly taken unawares, that he was +altogether at a loss to know from which direction the voice had come, +whether from the right hand or the left, whether from above or below. +He stood without moving for what seemed to him a number of minutes, +hoping to hear the voice again, or the sound of footsteps, or some +other token of a living presence; but in vain he listened. He heard a +far-away door clash faintly in another wing of the house, but nothing +more. He was alone with the silence and the darkness. + +By-and-by, when convinced that his remaining there longer would be +useless, he went slowly down the dark, shallow stairs which led below. +It would never do to tell Ella in what manner he had been disturbed. +She had enough of other troubles to occupy her thoughts at present. + +None the less was Edward Conroy determined to fathom the mystery of +the north wing; if it were possible for man to do so. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. +A STRANGER AT THE ROSE AND CROWN. + + +Mrs. Carlyon sat in the breakfast-room of her pleasant house at +Bayswater, planning out in her own mind the route she should take on +her journey to Hyères, for which place she intended to depart ere many +days had elapsed, when the morning letters were brought in. One of +them was from her niece, Ella Winter. Mrs. Carlyon opened it, and sat +transfixed at the news it contained: nothing less than an avowal from +that young lady that she was engaged to be married to Edward Conroy. + +The shock and surprise sent Mrs. Carlyon into Norfolk. She gave orders +to her maid, Higson, to prepare for their instant departure. + +"And it is just as well that I should go on another score," she told +herself, as she stepped into her carriage to be driven to the station: +"to ascertain whether my niece has relinquished that most absurd idea +of hers--that she is not her Uncle Gilbert's legal inheritor. What a +ridiculous world we live in!" + +So, at a late hour that same evening, Mrs. Carlyon, with her maid, +arrived at Heron Dyke--without any notice. + +"Your letter, Ella, took my breath away," she began, hardly allowing +herself a moment for greetings. "Has this engagement which you tell me +of really gone so far that it cannot be broken off?" + +"But who wants it to be broken off, Aunt Gertrude?" returned Ella. + +"What! Consider, my dear--a newspaper reporter, for Mr. Conroy is +neither more nor less than that. A very nice gentlemanly young man, I +admit, and one who has made himself a name in a certain way, but +scarcely a match for the heiress of Heron Dyke." + +"I am not going to marry for ambition, aunt, but for--for----" + +"Love, I conclude you would say. Love may be all very well in its way, +but why not have combined the two? Your husband ought to be at least +your equal in position. With your fortune and good looks, you might +have aspired to marry into the peerage; at the very least, you ought +to have a husband with a seat in Parliament. I am very much +disappointed," concluded Mrs. Carlyon, sitting down on the nearest +chair. + +"I am sorry for that, aunt; and so will Mr. Conroy be." + +"My dear! Surely you will not be so foolish as to tell him," cried +Mrs. Carlyon, hastily. "What I say to you is strictly between +ourselves. I like Mr. Conroy very well--I like him so well that I +should not care to hurt his feelings, although he has ambitiously cast +his eyes on you." + +"I am afraid, aunt, he could not help liking me. He said so." + +"I dare say! Well, perhaps that may be true. If he were but +well-connected--or a landed proprietor, say--or even a rising man in +the law courts--or, in short, almost anything but a newspaper +reporter, there is no one I would sooner see you marry. But as he +is----" + +"I am quite satisfied with him as he is, Aunt Gertrude. And you must +please remember," added Ella, with a quaint little smile, "that it was +at your house I first met him. Don't you remember with what +_empressement_ you introduced him to me? He was quite the lion of the +evening: you made him so: still, of course, as you say, he was only a +newspaper reporter." + +Mrs. Carlyon fidgeted in her chair. + +"One may be gratified to receive a person as a visitor," she said, +"but it does not follow that one cares to make him a member of one's +family. As to that evening, I have hated to think of it ever since, +for it was when my jewels were stolen, and now I shall hate it still +more. But, to return to the point, you, the mistress of Heron +Dyke----" + +"Am I the true mistress of Heron Dyke?--or, rather, shall I continue +to be?" interrupted Ella. + +"I will not hear a word of that nonsense," flashed Mrs. Carlyon. "My +dear, I speak of you as you are: and I say that it is positively not +seemly for a young lady in your position to wed a poor newspaper +reporter." + +"Ella put her arms round her aunt's neck and kissed her." + +"Worldly-wise maxims do not come with a good grace from your lips, +Aunt Gertrude," she whispered. "I have heard you say many a time that +your marriage was one of pure affection, but I have never heard you +say that you regretted it. You must let me be happy in my own +unambitious way." + +Mrs. Carlyon sighed. How differently the young and the old look at +things!--and how impossible it is to reconcile the views. Not that she +regretted her own choice: and she supposed she should have to put up +with this one. Ella was her own mistress, under no control. + +"Is it quite irrevocable, my love?" + +"I think so, auntie dear. You can ask Mr. Conroy." + +Irrevocable Mrs. Carlyon found it to be. After a short while given to +private lamentation, she resolved to make the best of it; and she did +so with a good grace. One very powerful advocate in her mind was +Edward Conroy himself. She could not help liking him, admiring him; +she mentally acknowledged that were she a young woman with a virgin +heart, it would have been lost to Conroy. After frankly telling him +that she did not approve of the match on account of his want of +position, but that she could not and should not take any steps to +hinder it, she became pleasant with him as before. Conroy received the +rebuke with becoming humility: but he did not offer to relinquish Miss +Winter. + +Now that she was at Heron Dyke, Mrs. Carlyon determined to remain. +With Mr. Conroy at the Hall every day, she considered it her duty to +be at hand to afford proper countenance and support to Ella. Mrs. +Toynbee was all very well, but she was not a relative: and duty was +duty with Mrs. Carlyon. Her cough must take its chance this winter. It +was possible that the bracing air of the east coast might prove as +beneficial to her in the long-run as the sun-warmed but relaxing +breezes of Southern France. And so she settled down in the old house, +to stay there as long as might be expedient. + +When Mr. Charles Plackett was at Heron Dyke, he had promised to write +to Miss Winter as soon as he had communicated with his client of +Nunham Priors. Instead of Charles Plackett writing, Mr. Denison +himself wrote, and the following is what he said: + + +"Nunham Priors. + + "My Dear Young Kinswoman, + +"You have often been in my thoughts since I saw you in London, now +some weeks ago, and I look forward with great pleasure to your +promised visit to me at Nunham Priors next spring. + +"When in town last week I saw my lawyer, Charles Plackett, who gave me +a long account of his visit to you at Heron Dyke. That visit was +undertaken by him solely on his own responsibility, and without first +consulting me, as he ought to have done. I have the utmost confidence +in Plackett's good sense and business qualifications, but whether I +should have sanctioned his visiting you for such a purpose is a +question I will not now enter upon. What has been done, cannot be +undone; and all I can now do, my dear, is to thank you, and express to +you the admiration I feel for the frank and candid spirit in which you +met his inquiries. As I told Plackett, many people under such +circumstances would have shown him the door: I myself should probably +have done so. + +"Were I in your place, my dear young lady, I should stir no further in +the matter respecting which Plackett called upon you. You have done +everything that honour demands, and more than could be expected of you +under the circumstances. Moreover, it appears to me that--though I +admit one cannot help entertaining doubts--any further investigation +would probably bring forth no results whatever. Let the affair rest: +that is my advice to you. I have no particular ambition to be the +master of Heron Dyke, especially now that I have learnt to know and +love--aye, love, my dear--her who is its mistress. I have fortune +enough and to spare, both for myself and that scapegrace boy who will +succeed me. Why crave for more? A very little while and I must leave +it, however much or however little it may be. + +"Don't forget that I shall expect you at Nunham Priors in spring; and +so for the present no more. + + "From your affectionate kinsman, + + "Gilbert Denison." + + +"P.S.--I am expecting Frank home in a week or two. I shall try to +chain him by the leg until you come. I am anxious that you and he +should be well acquainted with one another." + + +"Oh, indeed!" exclaimed Conroy, as he read this letter with an amused +smile, for Miss Winter handed it to him when he came to the Hall on +the morning she received it. + +"It is evident Mr. Denison has made up his mind that you should fall +in love with this mythical son of his." + +She nodded. + +"After all, Ella, would not that seem to be a most sensible +arrangement? It would unite the two branches of the family and +concentrate the property of both. What a pity you have given away your +heart to the wrong man!" + +"I begin to think so too," gravely answered Ella. "It may not be too +late to reclaim the poor thing and give it as you suggest." + +"It is never well to be rash. Had you not better await the return of +this wandering relative? Perhaps he might not value the offering?" + +"But if he should value it?" + +"He may not value it as--as its present possessor does." + +"I dare say he would, sir." + +"In that case, should you wish to reclaim it, you shall have it back." + +Ella glanced up. "Do you mean what you say? Is it a bargain?" + +"Undoubtedly." And, Mr. Conroy appeared to speak without reservation. + +"Is he tiring of me?" thought Ella. + +"Shall you take Mr. Denison's advice, and let the matter of the +succession drop?" resumed Conroy, after a pause. + +"Certainly not. You would not wish me to, would you?" + +"No. I think if any fraud was enacted, it should be traced out and +exposed. I have always said so. But, do you know _why_ I have chiefly +wished it?" + +"Why have you?" + +"For your own peace, dear. I see you will have none until the matter +shall be set at rest." + +"That is true; that is true," she impressively answered. "But, oh, +Edward, what can we do? What can we do more than we have already +done?" + +"Nothing--that I see at present. It does not much matter, one way or +the other." + +"Do you mean that my title to the estate, or non-title, does not +matter?" + +"Not much, I say." + +"I do not understand you this morning, Edward." + +Conroy smiled. "You will understand me better sometime." + +"That I am sure I never shall--if I am to marry that young Denison." + +"Yes, you will, despite young Denison," returned Conroy, the same +provoking smile still upon his lips. + + +It was known that Mrs. Ducie had been suffering from a severe cold. +Suddenly, without bidding good-bye to anyone, she started for London: +with the object, as was understood, of obtaining better medical +advice. Nullington hoped she would obtain that, and be restored to +health, for she was rather a favourite. + +Mrs. Ducie did not return; and the next piece of news heard was that +her well-known miniature phaeton, together with its pair of ponies, +had been bought by Lord Camberley and presented to his aunt, the Hon. +Mrs. Featherstone. From this, gossips argued, Mrs. Ducie's return to +Nullington seemed a somewhat problematical event. Captain Lennox--who +appeared to have taken up his abode in London, paying The Lilacs a +flying visit now and then, in by the night-train and away again in the +morning--was questioned upon the point. He said Mrs. Ducie continued +very unwell indeed; he was not sure but she would have to go abroad; +if so, he might perhaps accompany her. + +It might have been from this item of problematical news that a report +got about that the Captain was also about to leave Nullington. He +himself neither denied it nor affirmed it: it would depend, he said, +on his sister's health. + +One evening, when the Captain had come down for a rather longer stay +than usual now, he went into the billiard-room at the Rose and Crown. +Lennox was a man who could not exist without society, or spend an +evening at home with no company but his own. + +After the Captain had played a few games with young Mr. Sandys, of +Denne Park, and was about to quit the hotel, the landlord, Butterby, +drew him aside. + +"Can I speak with you a moment, sir?" + +"Well?" cried the Captain, shortly. + +"Pardon me, Captain, for asking; but would you mind telling me whether +there's any truth in the report that you are about to leave The +Lilacs?" + +"What if there should be, eh?" asked the Captain, with a quick, +suspicious glance at his questioner. + +"Why simply this, sir," replied the landlord, "that I think I know of +somebody who might perhaps take it off your hands, furniture and all." + +"Oh, indeed! Who's that?" asked the Captain. + +"A Mr. Norris, sir, who is stopping in the hotel. He says----" + +"What's his business here?" + +"Nothing in particular, sir: halted here quite promiscuous yesterday; +been going about a bit to see places. He's not a gentleman by any +means," added the landlord. "I hope I know a gentleman when I see one, +Captain; but he seems to have plenty of money. Retired from business, +I should put it. Says he should like to settle down in this part of +the country, for it takes his fancy, and is on the look-out for what +he calls a 'quiet little shanty' that would suit himself and his two +grown up daughters. So I thought, Captain, that if----" + +"I understand," interrupted Lennox in his quick way. He paused for a +moment or two, biting his lip, his eyes bent on the ground. + +"He looks awfully ill," was the landlord's unspoken thought, as he +stood watching him. "But I suppose he goes the pace when he's in +London. It's sure to tell on a man in the long-run." + +"It might be worth my while to see this Mr. Norris in the morning," +said Lennox, breaking out of his reverie. "To tell you the truth, +Butterby, I _have_ some notion of leaving Nullington." + +"So we heard. But I'm sorry to hear you say so, sir." + +"Nothing, however, is settled at present. You see my sister finds this +part of the country a little too bleak for her, and I myself have been +out of sorts for some time. We have some idea of travelling for a year +or two. I shall see how she is when I next run up to town. We may +perhaps come back here, after all." + +"We shall miss you, sir, if you don't," spoke Butterby. + +Captain Lennox looked undecided: as if he could not make up his mind. +A minute or two passed before he spoke. + +"You might take an opportunity, Butterby, of sounding this guest of +yours as to what kind of place it is that he really wants. The Lilacs +might be too small for him, or two expensive--it might not suit him in +many ways. In that case my seeing him on the matter would be useless. +I will look round in the morning about ten o'clock, and then you can +tell me the result." + +With that, Captain Lennox adjusted the camellia in his buttonhole, +lighted a fresh cigar, linked his arm in the arm of young Sandys, and +went his way. + +Captain Lennox was punctual. The clock was striking ten the next +morning as he walked into the bar of the Rose and Crown. The landlord +met him with a smiling face. + +"Mr. Norris would like to see you, sir," he began. "I had a little +talk with him last night; and, from what I can make out, if you can +come to terms yours will be just the place to suit him. He's a little +bit odd in some of his ways, but a pleasant party enough when you come +to converse with him." + +"You can show me to his room." + +Mr. Norris was a tall, ungainly, big-boned man, dressed somewhat after +the fashion of a middle-aged country squire of sporting proclivities, +with cutaway coat, gaiters, blue-and-white neck-tie and high collar. +But his clothes sat awkwardly upon him, and he seemed ill at ease in +them. He rose up from the breakfast-table as Lennox entered the room, +and waved him to a chair. + +"Proud to see you, sir," he said. "Shall be at your service in two +minutes. Am late this morning." + +"Don't hurry yourself," said Captain Lennox, politely. But Mr. Norris +rang the bell and had the tray taken away. He then drew his chair a +little nearer the fire, so that he might face his guest, and spread +his big bony hands out to the cheerful blaze. + +"I'm told, sir, that you have a little shanty you are about to +vacate," he said, "and as I'm in want of something of the kind we may +perhaps strike a bargain." + +"Possibly so, Mr. Norris. But it might be waste of time to go into any +details before you have seen the place. I may tell you that there are +three years of the lease still to run, and that I should like the +furniture to be taken at a valuation." + +"All right, Captain. If the place suits me we shan't quarrel about +terms, I dessay. When shall I pay you a visit?" + +"The sooner the better. I am due in London to-morrow. How would two +o'clock to-day suit you? You would then have time to look over the +cottage before dusk, and you might favour me with your company at +dinner afterwards, if not otherwise engaged. It may take some little +time to talk over preliminaries." + +"All right, Captain, I'm your man. At two sharp I'll be with you." + +Mr. Norris was as good as his word. A fly deposited him at The Lilacs +at the time appointed, where he found Captain Lennox waiting. The +Captain went with him over the premises. Mr. Norris made a very minute +inspection of the place, peering into every nook and corner, and +examining every cupboard and pantry in the house. About the condition +of the furniture he did not seem to trouble himself. + +"It's good enough for me and my lasses," he said, with a wave of one +of his large hands, when Lennox observed that he was afraid the +drawing-room carpet was rather well worn. + +Last of all, the garden and grounds were thoroughly perambulated. + +"I like everything I've seen," said Mr. Norris, as they went back +indoors, "but before giving a final answer, I must hear what my two +lasses have to say. It's to be their home as well as mine, you know, +Captain. Just now they are in the West of Ireland, but they'll be back +in a week from to-day." + +"In a week, eh?" + +"Perhaps you don't care to wait so long as that for my answer?" + +The Captain replied that a week more or a week less was a matter of +very slight importance to him. So it was left at that. + +When dinner was announced, Lennox sat down with his guest and was +studiously polite, though he did not seem to be in much humour for +talking. Mr. Norris, however, so far as he was concerned, did not let +the conversation flag, while doing ample justice to the good things +before him. He allowed no hint to drop as to what his profession in +life had been or was now; but from certain things he said Lennox came +to the conclusion that he was a man who had seen a good deal of the +world, and had been acquainted with several phases of life of a more +or less curious kind. Dinner over, young Sandys and three or four +other men dropped in; there was an adjournment to the smoking-room, +and after a time some one suggested cards. + +"Do you play, Mr. Norris?" asked Lennox, with an air of languid +interest. + +"When I was a lad at home we used to play loo and speculation for nuts +at Christmas time, and since then I've sometimes played a rubber of +whist, but nothing more," answered Mr. Norris, with his broad smile. +"Still, I'm no spoil-sport, and if one of you will only give me a +lesson or two I'll do my best." + +Mr. Sandys kindly undertook the part of mentor, and found his pupil a +most apt one. In about ten minutes he said rather drily, "And now, I +think, Mr. Norris, you will be quite able to take care of yourself," +at which Mr. Norris nodded his head. + +During the early part of the evening the luck seemed decidedly against +Mr. Norris. But by-and-by there came a change, and his lost sovereigns +began to find their way back to his pocket. It appeared to be a +peculiarity of this Mr. Norris, that whenever he sustained a more +severe loss than ordinary he leant back in his chair and gave vent to +a hearty guffaw; whereas, when the cards happened to be in his favour +and the pool fell to him, he looked as glum as a judge. Young Sandys +stared at him through his eye-glass as though he were some strange +animal who had found his way there by mistake, while Captain Lennox's +cold, keen glances began to be directed more and more frequently +towards his guest. It was dawning on the Captain's mind that Mr. +Norris was, perhaps, not so much of a novice as he had tried to make +himself out to be. At the close of the evening he rose from the table +a winner to a small amount. + +Norris was the first to leave. He bowed his awkward bow to the company +generally, and shook hands with the Captain. + +"Everything shall be settled in a week from now," he whispered with a +meaning look. "Rely upon that. Good-night." + +"Queer fish that," said young Sandys, as the door closed on Mr. +Norris's lanky figure. + +"Not quite the greenhorn he would have had us believe," remarked Gray, +another of the guests. "Where the deuce did you pick him up, Lennox?" + +"I'm glad he's gone," said Lennox, with an air of weariness, as he +dropped into a chair "The fellow is after this place--if I should make +up my mind to leave it." + +"I say, old fellow, how jolly bad you look to-night!" said Downes +Dyson as he proceeded to shuffle the cards. + +"Yes, I'm altogether out of sorts. These horrible English winters are +enough to kill anyone." + +Captain Lennox was indeed glad that Mr. Norris had gone, and he would +have been well pleased were he never going to see him again. He had +contracted a great dislike for him, for which he could give no +reasonable account to himself; a sort of dread which had grown deeper +and deeper as the evening had advanced. + +And he could not shake it off. His dreams that night were troubled +ones: through the whole of them the tall, gaunt figure of Mr. Norris +loomed ominously. Even in his sleep he felt that he hated him. + +Next morning the Captain rose unrefreshed, and started by an early +train for London. He was thinking that he needed a different air from +the English air just as greatly as his sister did. + +It was at the Rose and Crown that Mr. Conroy stayed when at +Nullington. He and Norris had once or twice met on the stairs, and +passed each other as strangers. On the evening above-mentioned, +however, when Mr. Conroy was just about to go to rest, a tap came to +the door of his sitting-room, and Norris appeared at it. + +"I thought I'd just see whether you had retired yet, sir, having a +word to say to you." + +"Ah, is it you, Mr. Meath?" said Conroy. "Come in. You have some news +for me, I presume. Sit down. What is it?" + +"The news I have at present, sir, is this: that I have made some very +curious discoveries indeed respecting the antecedents of the gentleman +who goes by the name of Captain Lennox." + +"_Goes_ by the name! Is it not his real name?" + +"Well, sir, he has gone by a lot of names in his time, but which of +them's his real one is best known to himself." + +From the breast-pocket of his coat, Mr. Meath drew a small +memorandum-book, and opened it. + +"Ten years ago," he began, "Lennox was passing under the name of +Blaydon. At that time he was tuner to a large pianoforte firm in +London. This situation he lost because a number of valuable articles +were missed from different houses to which he was sent. We next hear +of him under the name of Perke, as book-keeper at a fashionable hotel +in Mayfair. Here also some robberies were perpetrated, but whether by +him or not I am not in a position to assert. In any case, he lost his +situation before long. After this he appears to have gone abroad for +two or three years, and was seen in Paris, Brussels, Homburg, and +other places. In some way or other, probably by successful gambling, +he seems to have feathered his nest pretty considerably. We next find +him at Cheltenham." + +"At Cheltenham!" involuntarily exclaimed Conroy. + +"At Cheltenham, sir. He had become Captain Lennox then, and was a very +big card. Being Captain Lennox and a great swell, he is of course +above peculations, unless some very tempting chance offers itself, as +in the case of Major Piper's jewel-case. By his skill at cards and +billiards he contrives to make a very comfortable income. He entices +young men of fortune to his rooms, and there fleeces them. Do you +follow me, sir?" + +"Quite so." + +"It would appear that he at length becomes fearful that Cheltenham is +growing too warm for him; and he wisely beats a retreat from it before +any suspicion touches him. Accompanied by his sister, Mrs. Ducie, he +comes to Norfolk, and takes The Lilacs on a five or six years' lease. +It would seem a curious, out-of-the-way place to come to," remarked +Mr. Meath, looking off his note-book for a moment; "but no doubt +Lennox knew what he was about, and I have very little doubt that the +scheme has paid him handsomely. He must have known that there were +many young men of family in this part of the country, some of them +with more money than brains, and Captain Lennox having more brains +than money was exactly the man to adjust the difference. It is a pity, +sir, a great pity," added Mr. Meath, with a solemn shake of the head, +"that so clever a rascal did not stop short at plucking pigeons, and +leave the darker paths of villany untrodden. He might have gone on +living as a gentleman and among gentlemen for years to come." + +Edward Conroy had been thinking. There were some discrepancies in this +history. "You speak of Lennox as a tuner of pianos and an hotel clerk, +Mr. Meath; but he is undoubtedly a gentleman, both as regards +education and manners. I think he must have been born one." + +"Little doubt of that, sir. 'Tis but another edition of the old story, +I take it. Well-connected parents, expensive bringing-up, perhaps good +launch in life--perhaps not good through lack of funds: then +temptation, weakness, ruin. Repudiated by friends, or perhaps friends +dead. Then another start under a fresh name and from a lower rung of +the ladder. Ah, my dear sir, such cases are unfortunately but too +common. This is a queer world, yet men must live in it." + +Conroy silently assented. + +"How far do you suppose Mrs. Ducie has been implicated in these +unpleasant matters?" + +The private detective shook his head. + +"Sir, I can't answer that. We have made no discovery against her as +yet; neither do we care to push any. She is much attached to her +brother, and she has clung to him in her sisterly affection. It can +hardly be that she has lived without suspicion; any way, as to his +making money by fleecing the world at cards. Whether she has known of +worse things, I can't say. If so, one could not expect her to denounce +him; but she must have walked upon thorns." + +"I suppose she is really a widow?--and her name Ducie? + +"Yes, sir, that's all straightforward enough. Her husband was an +officer in the army; he died young, and left her with a fair +income--which is hers still. People like her, and she has some good +acquaintances. So has the Captain, for that matter." + +"What do you purpose doing next?" asked Conroy. + +"Well, sir, my next move--though I don't say when it will take place, +either this day or that day--will be to apply for a search-warrant, +and go quietly over The Lilacs--into every nook and corner of it." + +"With any particular object in view?" + +"Yes, sir, a very particular one. I hope to find there a malachite and +gold sleeve-link, to match the one that was found upon the gravel at +Heron Dyke." + +Conroy almost smiled: this appeared to him to be so improbable a hope. + +"You cannot expect to find it. Knowing, as he must have known, that he +had lost the one sleeve-link in the struggle with Hubert Stone, +Lennox's first care would be to effectually hide its fellow." + +"Let me tell you, Mr. Conroy, that the chances are he _didn't_. These +criminals are always making some fatal mistake; and that's a very +common one--the not doing away effectually, as you are pleased to term +it, sir, and it's an apt word, with the proofs that might destroy +them." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. +TOGETHER AT LAST. + + +Sundry matters had been taking place concerning Philip Cleeve which +might well have been told previously. + +It was on a Wednesday morning, as may be remembered, that Philip +started for London, on business, as Lady Cleeve was led to suppose, +connected with Mr. Tiplady's office. On Thursday evening Lady Cleeve +waited up to welcome her son's return. But Philip did not come. + +"He must be staying in town to spend the evening with Mr. Bootle," she +said to herself. "I shall have a letter in the morning." + +The morning brought neither letter nor messages from the truant, and +Lady Cleeve sent her breakfast away nearly untasted. "After all," she +thought, "seeing that he will return to-day, he probably hardly +thought it worth while to write." + +But when Friday evening passed away and still Philip came not, and +when Saturday morning's post brought her no letter, then Lady Cleeve +became seriously alarmed. Business might, of course, be detaining him, +she knew that; but why did he not write? And Philip, as she believed, +was so ultra-dutiful. + +"I will send to Mr. Tiplady, and risk it, she thought. She would have +sent to inquire before, only Philip had so intense a dislike to being, +what he called, looked after. Once, when he had stayed away at Norwich +a day or two beyond the time of coming home, she had gone herself to +the office to ask about him, and Philip was annoyed about it. + +"Bridget," she said, calling to the maid who had waited upon her for +many years, and who was as well known in Nullington as Lady Cleeve +herself, "you had better go and inquire at the office when they expect +Mr. Philip home. You can say, if you like, that I am a little uneasy +at not hearing from him." + +Away went Bridget, in her warm Scotch plaid shawl and black +coal-scuttle bonnet. Mr. Tiplady was standing at the office-door, +looking up and down the street. Bridget delivered to him her lady's +message. + +"Lady Cleeve sent you to me to inquire about the movements of Mr. +Philip," cried the architect, after listening. "I was just going to +send to ask Lady Cleeve the same question." + +This famous architect, renowned in more counties than one, was a +kindly, unpretending man, small and slight, and chary of speech in +general. He took off his hat to push back the few scanty grey hairs +left on his head, as he looked at the servant. + +"My lady thought, sir, that you must know what was keeping Mr. Philip +so long in London." + +"I know nothing about it, Bridget. I don't know why he went. His +absence is causing us some inconvenience." + +Bridget, who was much in her mistress's confidence, could not make +this out. + +"He went upon business for you, sir, did he not?" + +"Not at all. Mr. Best here got a note from him on Wednesday morning, +saying he had to run up to town on a little business, but should be +back the following day. We have heard nothing of him since. Make my +compliments to your lady, and tell her this." + +Lady Cleeve became actively alarmed now. All sorts of dire forebodings +filled the mother's heart. London was a place beset with dangers in +many ways: she had heard, and fully believed, that hardly a day passed +but somebody or other was lost in it, and that they were never heard +of again. + +Sending out to order a fly, she was set down at the office. Mr. +Tiplady was in his private room then, and handed her to a seat. + +"I would be only too glad to tell you what is detaining him, if I +knew," said the little man kindly, in answer to her somewhat +impassioned appeal. "We supposed he had gone up upon some matter for +yourself. Lost?--lost? no, no, dear Lady Cleeve; don't imagine +anything so improbable as that. Philip is quite old enough to take +care of himself." + +"But what can he have gone to London for? And why should he have made +a mystery of it?" + +"Well, to say the truth, that's what I cannot quite understand. Best +said a word to me this morning--he got it from young Plympton, I +fancy--that Philip had been embarking money in some speculation, +and---- Do you know anything about it?" + +"Nothing," said Lady Cleeve, whose face was growing more anxious with +every moment. + +"I'll call Best in," said the architect. + +But upon going into an adjoining room he found that Mr. Best had +stepped out. So he brought in Richard Plympton. This young man, who +had been placed in the architect's office as an "improver," was +brother to Mr. Kettle's curate, and was a great friend of Philip. + +Young Plympton, after shaking hands with Lady Cleeve, told what he +knew, thinking it right under present circumstances to do so: that +Philip had bought some shares in a rich silver-mining company, the +Hermandad, and that he had gone up to town to see if he could not sell +out again. + +"Oh," said Mr. Tiplady, "embarked money in that, has he? I heard that +same mine spoken of yesterday--quite incidentally." + +"It is a very rich mine, is it not, sir?" cried young Plympton with +enthusiasm. + +"Very," drily responded the architect. + +"Captain Lennox got him the shares, sir. He is one of the directors, +and has gone in for it himself largely." + +"Sorry for him," cried Mr. Tiplady. "The mine has come to grief." + +"No!" exclaimed the young man, opening his eyes widely. "You don't +mean that, sir! Then"--a thought striking him--"it must be that which +has been keeping Lennox so much in town lately." + +"Ay, no doubt. That will do, Mr. Plympton. I wonder whether Philip has +risked much upon this worthless thing?" added the architect to Lady +Cleeve, as his clerk withdrew. + +"It is sad news for me," she sighed, wiping her pale face. "We can +soon ascertain, by inquiring at the bank how much money he has drawn +out. Of course, anything is better than that he should be lost." + +"Of course," smiled Mr. Tiplady. "Still I don't myself see why this +matter should be keeping Philip in London. It has been known to the +public some days now. Shall I make the inquiry at the bank for you, +Lady Cleeve?" + +"If you will take the trouble. I shall be very much obliged to you." + +"I may want your authority before they'll answer me. I'm not quite +sure, though; they know me for Philip's good friend." + +It was arranged that he should get into the fly now with Lady Cleeve. +The driver was directed to stop at the bank. Mr. Tiplady went in, and +came out with a serious face. + +"Will they not answer you?" cried Lady Cleeve. + +"Oh yes; they made no difficulty about that." + +"Well! How much has he drawn out?" + +"Nearly every pound he had there." + +So poor Lady Cleeve had to go home with her anxiety augmented, instead +of lessened. Suppose Philip, in his dismay at the loss of all his +money, should--should have done something rash! + +Saturday wore itself away. The look on the mother's face was pitiful +to see. She sat at the window which faced the entrance-gate, looking +for one that did not appear. And when dusk had closed in she still sat +on in the same spot, listening in the dark with straining eyes for the +well-known footfall that was so long in coming. + +Sunday morning came and with it the postman, for there was an early +postal delivery on that day at Nullington. But there was no letter +from Philip. Dr. Spreckley was in the act of brushing his hat +preparatory to setting out for church, when in rushed Bridget. Her +lady had suddenly been taken with one of her old attacks, and the +Doctor must hasten to her. + +Dr. Spreckley had another patient on his hands at that time--the +Reverend Francis Kettle; he was laid up with gout. When Dr. Spreckley +called there after church, he mentioned Lady Cleeve's illness to +Maria. + +"She had been getting on so well lately," he lamented. "Anxiety of +mind has brought on this attack; nothing else." + +"Anxiety of mind?" repeated Maria. + +"Yes; all about that harum-scarum son of hers. He went to London on +Wednesday last, and has never been heard of since. She is in a fine +quandary, I can tell you, fancying some dreadful harm has come to +him." + +"But why should harm come to him?" asked Maria, her heart beating +wildly. + +"Why, indeed! He does harm enough to himself without its coming to him +gratuitously. Been and spent all his money; made ducks and drakes of +it." + +"Oh!" gasped Maria. "_How?_" + +"How!" returned the Doctor. "Well"--looking at Maria's tale-telling +countenance--"been embarking a lot of it in some precious mining +scheme, and the mine has burst up." + +Maria went to Lady Cleeve's that afternoon. She found her very ill. +Maria hid her own fears and forebodings, and spoke cheerfully and +hopefully; although every now and then a blinding rush of tears would +come into her eyes when she thought that perhaps in very truth she +should never see Philip more on this side the grave. More than ever +before, she seemed to realise how dear he was to her heart. + +How many days of this terrible anxiety went on, neither of them cared +to number. The vicar was getting better now, though still confined to +a sofa in his room, and Maria spent much of her time at Homedale. One +morning there arrived a telegram addressed to Lady Cleeve. The poor +mother's face turned paler still, and her hands trembled so much that +she could not open it. She signed to Maria to take the paper. + + + "No. 6, Maxwell Terrace, Wandsworth, London. + "_From_ Phillip Cleeve, + +"I have met with a slight accident, which will detain me in London for +a few days yet. It is nothing serious, so do not be alarmed. Another +message to-morrow." + + +"Thank heaven! my boy still lives," said Lady Cleeve. Tears of +thankfulness stood in Maria's eyes: for she also had been fearing the +worst. "And yet it is strange why he has not written," mused Lady +Cleeve, stretching out her hand for the paper. "He says, 'Another +message to-morrow!' Why send a telegram when, if he were to post a +letter this evening, it would reach me in the morning? He must be +worse than he wishes me to know of; he must be so ill that he cannot +write. He may be dying. And I cannot go to him!" + +"I will go to him, dear Lady Cleeve!" said Maria, with a lovely flush +on her cheeks. + +"You, my dear!" + +"Yes, I. I can go: papa is almost well now." + +"But, my dear child, will it do for _you_ to go? You----" + +"I am his promised wife, and who has more right to be by his side, at +such a time as this, than I have?" She flung herself into Lady +Cleeve's arms, and the two wept together. + +Maria lost no time. Before the astonished vicar could say yes or no, +before he quite understood what the matter was, she was on her way to +the railway-station. + +A cab stopped that same evening at the door of No. 6, Maxwell Terrace. +Miss Kettle alighted, knocked, and inquired for Mr. Cleeve. + +Before the servant had time to reply, a white-haired, ruddy-faced +gentleman came out of a side-room. "Come inside, come inside," he +said, as he peered at Maria through his spectacles. "Yes, Mr. Cleeve +is under this roof. He is my guest, you know; and you, I presume, are +some relation of his?" he added, as he led the way into the parlour. +"Perhaps his sister?" + +"No, not his sister," faltered Maria, the difficulties of her position +suddenly presenting themselves to her. "I am not related to him." + +"Not related to him!" repeated the old gentleman, gazing at her. But, +there was something so benevolent in the ruddy face, so kindly in the +honest eyes, that Maria took heart and courage. + +"I am his promised wife, sir," she said simply. "There was nobody but +me to come." + +"His promised wife, now! Bless my heart, but that's very nice, do you +know! I never had a promised wife; I often wish that I had. My name's +Marjoram, my dear--Josiah Marjoram, late of Bucklersbury, City; now +retired, with nothing to do--nothing to do. It's hard work, though, +sometimes." + +"But about Philip--about Mr. Cleeve, sir?" said Maria, earnestly. "Is +he very ill? I was to send a telegram to his mother if I got here in +time. How was he hurt?" + +"Sit down, my dear, and I will tell you all about it. It was as +gallant a thing as ever I saw. I was standing at my drawing-room +window one afternoon, whistling to myself, and thinking about nothing +in particular, when all at once a hansom cab came dashing round the +corner at a most furious rate. A little child was running across the +road: it stumbled and fell: upon which a young man, who happened to +be passing, and whom I had not noticed before, dashed into the road +and seized the child in his arms. But he was too late; the cab was +over him. The child escaped with a few bruises, but the young man +was--well, let us put it, rather badly hurt. 'Take him to the +hospital,' called out the people, running up. 'The only hospital he +shall go to is my house,' I said to them: and into it he was carried. +We found a name on some cards in his pocket-book, 'Mr. Cleeve,' but no +address, so that I was unable to communicate with his friends." + +"And he was too much injured to give you the address!" exclaimed +Maria. + +"Just so; he was not sufficiently sensible. But he is getting better +now; oh, very much better," added the old gentleman, briskly. "As a +proof of it, it was he who dictated the telegram to Lady Cleeve this +morning. My doctor and the one from London both say that with care we +shall soon have him on his legs again now." + +"I should like to see him, sir, if you please," said Maria, faintly. + +"So you shall, my dear: so you shall, when I have spoken to the nurse. +Meanwhile, my housekeeper, Mrs. Wale, a good, motherly old soul, shall +show you to your room, to take your bonnet off. We prepared it for his +mother, thinking she might come." + +The old housekeeper came in curtseying. She supposed Maria to be Lady +Cleeve's daughter. Maria took off her travelling things, and was then +ready to see Philip. Mr. Marjoram opened the chamber-door for her. She +caught sight of a white face on the pillow, and two preternaturally +large eyes, that stared at her as if she were a visitor from the dead. +She bent her face to his. + +"Oh, my dear one!" she murmured. "Thank Heaven, I have found you at +last!" And Maria made up her mind that she would not leave him again. +The doctors said that very much would depend on good nursing. Maria +felt that no one could nurse him as she could; at least, she would +help to do it. The old gentleman approved of this so much that he +clapped his hands in applause; he told Maria he wished she could be +converted by some good fairy into his real daughter, and never go away +from his house. + +On the morning after Philip's first wretched night in London, when he +was somewhat restored to common sense, he resolved to return to +Nullington and confess all his weakness and folly to his mother and to +Mr. Tiplady. There was no help for it. But the thought struck him that +he ought once more to go to the Hermandad office in the City, and to +ascertain, if possible, whether the silver-mining prospect was +absolutely hopeless. + +The place was still shut up, and Philip could hear nothing. In coming +away he met a gentleman whom he had seen at The Lilacs, an +acquaintance of Captain Lennox and Mrs. Ducie. This gentleman had also +put some money into the mine, and had come down to the City on the +same errand as Philip. + +"Lennox? No, I can't tell you where he is; I've not seen him here +lately," he said, in answer to Philip's question. "Lennox is as hard +hit as we are, I expect; worse, in fact. He may be staying with those +friends he has at Wandsworth; he is there sometimes." + +"Can you give me their address? + +"Why, yes, I can. I spent an evening or two there with Lennox in the +summer." + +Philip took the address, and went to Wandsworth. He found the people, +but could not hear anything of Captain Lennox; they supposed him to be +at Nullington. It was after leaving their house that Philip met with +the accident. It is probable that his previous night's vigil, and the +troubled state his mind was in, rendered him less quick and agile than +he might otherwise have been. + +When Philip had gained sufficient strength, he poured into Maria +Kettle's ear all the story of his folly and ruin, the latter +culminating with these dreadful mines. He was yet so weak and ill that +when he had done he cried like a child. Maria pressed his hand to her +soft, warm cheek, and soothed and comforted him. + +"I think sometimes, Maria, that if you had not cast me off as you did +all this would not have happened," he continued; "and yet how weak and +foolish I have been all through, no one knows better than myself." + +"I will never leave you again," she murmured, with scarlet cheeks: and +they sealed the promise with a kiss. + +"I shall always say, Maria, your father was harder to me than he need +have been." + +"Yes. But the truth is, Philip, he has had more on his mind than he +would speak of," she returned. "It was about----" + +"About, what?" queried Philip, as she stopped. + +"I am almost ashamed to mention it." + +"I shall never rest now, till you have told me." + +"Papa took up a notion that you were somehow concerned in those +robberies which took place: his own purse, you know--and the Doctor's +snuff-box--and the jewels." + +Philip's large eyes grew larger as he stared at Maria. + +"Not that I stole them? You can't mean that!" + +"I fear that he was afraid you did. Dr. Downes was also." + +Philip lay without speaking, lost in astonishment. Presently he burst +into the strongest laugh his feeble state allowed. + +"What a joke, Maria! They could not believe such a thing of me. I am +Philip Cleeve." + +The words imparted their own assurance. Though Maria had never needed +to be assured. + +"Did _you_ think this?" + +"Oh, Philip! Don't you know me better than that?" + +"My dear, yes. Forgive the question. You say you will never leave me +again, Maria: I bless you for that. If we could but be married here, +and now, so that no adverse fate might ever more part us! Here and +now!" + +Maria's vivid blush was the only answer. + +"But how could we live now that our future is marred?" continued +Philip. "As Tiplady's partner, I could have ensured you a good home; +but the money which was to have secured that position, the twelve +hundred pounds, is gone for ever." + +"I have two thousand pounds that I think you have not heard of, +Philip," she said in a low tone, as she hid her face. "Mrs. Page left +it to me. We will pay over some of it to Mr. Tiplady, in place of that +which is lost." + +"Maria!" + +"Yes," she answered. "I have been intending it ever since I knew you +were getting better. Do not fret after the money, Philip. Captain +Lennox is worse off----" + +"Hang Captain Lennox!" interjected Philip. "But for him I should never +have got into trouble of any kind." + +"He had embarked, it is said, a great deal in this mine," added Maria. +"People fancy that it is his loss in it which makes him think of +giving up The Lilacs." + +Romantic though old Mr. Marjoram showed himself to be, it yet may have +surprised him to be told that the two young people enjoying his +hospitality had determined to get married as soon as possible, while +Philip still lay ill and helpless--if he, the kind old gentleman, +would only help them to accomplish it. + +"Oh ho!" said he. "Love's young dream, and all that, eh? Your parents +have destined you for one another from childhood, you tell me." + +"That's quite true," said Philip, from his pillow. + +"Philip will need careful tending for some time to come, as you know, +sir," spoke Maria, with soft red cheeks and downcast eyes; "and no one +can tend him as a wife can. If you, sir, would be at the trouble of +procuring a special license for us, and--and Philip and I thought if +you would not mind our being married here quietly some morning----" + +Tears twinkled on the old gentleman's eyelashes. He drew Maria to him +and pressed her to his heart, and she cried a little on his shoulder +as she might have done on that of her father. Mr. Marjoram wished that +Heaven had given him such a child. + +Thus it fell out that a few days later a quiet wedding took place in +the drawing-room of No. 6, Maxwell Terrace. Philip was lifted out of +bed that day for the first time since his accident, and lay on a couch +while the ceremony was performed. He looked desperately white and ill, +poor fellow! but the light of perfect content shone in his eyes, and +the old sweet smile that used to mark the Philip Cleeve of old days +came and went continually on his lips. Mr. Marjoram gave away the +bride, and his sister, a charming maiden lady of fifty, came all the +way from Hertford to countenance the ceremony. And the old state of +things then went on again. Poor helpless Philip lay in bed, and Maria +waited on him. + +But he seemed to get rapidly better now. And when sufficiently well to +leave the good old man's hospitable roof, he and Maria went to a quiet +seaside place lying on their way to Norfolk, that Philip might inhale +the refreshing sea-breezes for a few days before returning home. At +present he and his wife would stay with Lady Cleeve. + +She, Lady Cleeve, was thankful in her heart for all that had happened, +now that it had led to all this happiness. The Vicar, making up his +mind at first to be very stern and high and mighty, broke down at the +first interview. For one thing, his mind was at rest as to Philip's +fancied participation in the robberies. Too much proof had been found +at The Lilacs by Mr. Detective Meath, to admit of suspicion against +anyone but Captain Lennox. + +Dr. Downes's snuff-box had turned up first. It was supposed the +Captain had been afraid to get rid of it for a time. Most of the +jewels lost at Heron Dyke had been found there; and--the fellow +sleeve-link of malachite and gold. + +"That we must have a snake-in-the-grass amongst us here, I knew," +cried Dr. Downes; "but I never suspected Lennox. I was more inclined +to suspect _you_, Master Philip," with a nod at Philip, who was lying +on a sofa, "although you are your father's son and your good mother's. +You are laughing, are you? Well, you can afford to laugh, things +having turned out so: you'd have found it no laughing matter had you +been the black sheep." + +"I dare say not, Doctor," answered Philip. + +"But it is an awful thought that he, Lennox, whose hand has been +meeting ours in friendship, should have been the murderer of Hubert +Stone." + + + + +CHAPTER IX. +IN THE DUSK OF EVENING. + + +Never had the good people of Nullington had more food for gossip, +wonder, and surmise--never had they been so startled out of the +ordinary quietude of their lives, as during the Christmastide to which +events have now brought us. The marriage, under somewhat romantic +circumstances, of Philip Cleeve, and the coming home of himself and +his bride, would, in ordinary times, have served as the chief topic of +conversation for a month to come. But this comparatively tame episode +was completely overshadowed by the startling revelations in connection +with Captain Lennox. + +Both Captain Lennox and his sister had vanished as completely as if +the earth had swallowed them up. They had been traced to London, but +there the trail was lost, and it had not hitherto been found again. +Lennox had never come back to complete the arrangements respecting +the letting of the cottage to Mr. Norris. Something must have aroused +his suspicions, and some one, probably one of his own servants, must +have sent him timely information respecting the execution of the +search-warrant. In any case, he was nowhere to be found after that +day. Mr. Meath was at fault; the general police were at fault; and +meanwhile the cottage remained in charge of the police local +constabulary. + +Christmas at Heron Dyke could not well have been spent more quietly. +Conroy was away for a few days about this time. Mrs. Carlyon and Ella +went into the town occasionally to see Maria and Philip, and that was +about their only dissipation. + +"It must have been Captain Lennox who took the jewel-case out of my +dressing-room that night at Bayswater," remarked Mrs. Carlyon one day. +"And to think I could not get rid of an uneasy suspicion that it might +have been poor Philip Cleeve who had taken it!" + +Ella looked up in surprise. + +"Philip Cleeve!" she exclaimed. + +"Well, yes; I am ashamed to say so, Ella." + +"But what could possibly have led you to such a suspicion as that, +Aunt Gertrude?" + +"Captain Lennox led me. Otherwise I should no more have thought of +Philip in the matter than I should have thought of you." + +Ella felt bewildered. + +"Surely Captain Lennox did not dare to accuse Philip!" + +"Oh dear, no. One day, a few weeks after the loss, when Captain Lennox +was in town and calling upon me, he inquired whether the jewels had +been found. In talking of the affair, he dropped a word--it was little +more than one--which somehow turned my thoughts to Philip. The Captain +caught it up again--as if he had let it drop inadvertently, and I did +not pursue it. Since then, when I have heard at times how fast Philip +was supposed to be spending money at cards, billiards, and such like, +that inadvertent word has returned to my mind doubtfully and most +disagreeably." + +"Do you suppose Captain Lennox wished you to think he accused Philip?" + +"No," replied Mrs. Carlyon. "I think he wanted to instil a slight +doubt of his possible guilt into my mind, so as to more completely +throw any possible suspicion off himself. That is how I fancy it must +have been." + +"Aunt Gertrude," said Ella, musingly, "I wonder whether it was Captain +Lennox who stole Freddy Bootle's watch and chain that same night--and +then made out that his own purse was likewise stolen?" + +"Little need to wonder! nothing was ever much more sure than that," +said Mrs. Carlyon. "The man must have lived by these peculations. And +to think what a gentleman he was through it all!" + +Conroy came back. And whatever minor elements of disquietude might +make themselves felt now and again, there was a certain sweet fulness +of content about Ella's life just now, that nothing could seriously +affect. She had won the sweetest guerdon a woman can win, and all +things else, whether pleasing or displeasing, seemed dwarfed in +comparison with that one supreme fact. The more she saw of Conroy, the +more she seemed to find in him to love and appreciate. Day by day the +choice she had made approved itself more fully to her heart. Even Mrs. +Carlyon, now that she was domesticated daily with Conroy, no longer +wondered at what she called Ella's infatuation. + +It had been arranged that the marriage should take place early in +spring. Ella wished to delay the event until the doubt as to the date +of her uncle's death, and her own rightful inheritance of the +property, should be cleared up; but Mr. Conroy urged that that was no +good cause for delay. + +"Suppose," she said to him one day, "that after we are married it +should be discovered that I am not the true heiress, and Heron Dyke +goes from me?" + +"What then?" he answered. "We should still have enough for comfort. +You possess some income that is indisputably your own; and I dare say +I could match it, in one way or another." + +"By your newspaper work?" + +"By that or other things. I have given up the newspapers for the +present: am not sure that I shall take to them again. Be at rest, my +dear, and trust to me. We shall be able to keep up a modest home, and +a cow, and a pony-carriage. What more can we want?" + +"You are laughing at me, Edward." + +"No, indeed. I only wish you not to be troubled about this property. +It may be yours, or it may not be." + +"I fancy you think it is not mine?" + +"I fancy that if everybody possessed their legal rights, it would turn +out to be at this moment Mr. Denison's. But we have yet no proof of +that, and it may be that I am mistaken." + +"The shortest way would be to give it up to him at once." + +"My dear, Mr. Denison would not take it; he is one of the last men in +the world to do so." + +"Do you know Mr. Denison?" + +"I have seen him. I know that he is a straightforward, honourable +man." + +Ella sighed.. She wished the doubt could be solved. + +Mr. Conroy wished the same, though perhaps in a less ardent way. It +did not _trouble_ him as it did her; he was more patient, more +reconciled to let time work out its own ends. He held a secret +conviction that Aaron was at the bottom of the plot, if there had been +a plot; but Conroy kept that impression to himself. + +Harsh, crabbed and unsympathetic as was Aaron Stone, both by nature +and training, the shock of his grandson's sudden death, following so +soon after that of the Squire, had not failed to leave its traces +behind. In a few short months Aaron seemed to have grown a dozen years +older. His hair was thinner and whiter, he had become more feeble in +his gait, and he claimed the assistance of a stick in walking more +frequently than before. He maundered in an undertone to himself as he +walked about the Hall with his keys--his chief duty now was to shut up +the old house at night and to open it in the morning; he did little +else; and he would often speak out aloud as in answer to some question +when nobody had asked him one. He would have liked to follow his +mistress about much as a faithful old mastiff might have done, gazing +from the doors when she was in the grounds, moving restlessly about +her chair at dinner. To Conroy he had taken umbrage, and would mutter +to himself that a strange man had no business at Heron Dyke; the best +of 'em were but spies. + +"What do he do up in that north wing so much?" soliloquised the old +man in the homely speech he was pleased to indulge in when off duty. +"I see him, evening after evening, a-creeping softly up and a-creeping +down again. What do he do it for? What's he looking after? Do the +young mistress know of it, I wonder? Who can answer for't that he +warn't in that theft o' the jewels? Yah! Spies!" + +Of all the inmates of the Hall, the one least tolerant of his +crotchets and his failings was Mrs. Carlyon. On occasion she spoke of +them to Ella. + +"It is partly your fault, child; you give in to him so." + +"I don't think I do, aunt. In what way do I?" + +"In many ways. Look at that senseless fancy he has taken up of having +no men-servants in the house but himself! And you fall in with it." + +"We have enough maids for the work, Aunt Gertrude." + +"I am aware of that--I suppose we have not much less than half-a-score +here, including your maid and mine. That is not the question. In your +position, mistress of this grand old place, it behoves you to keep +men-servants as other people do. But because Aaron sets his face +against it, you----" + +"It is not that, aunt," interrupted Ella. "What I thought right to do +I should do, in spite of Aaron; believe that. It is the uncertainty in +which things are, that causes me to live quietly. Once I hear--if I +ever do--that I am the rightful owner of Heron Dyke, you will find me +make all changes that are suitable." + +Mrs. Carlyon said no more then. She heartily wished her sojourn at +Heron Dyke was at an end, that she might return to her own more +comfortable home. For, in her opinion, the atmosphere of the Hall was +not comfortable. Of that dark north wing she had a wholesome dread, as +well as of the lost girl's spirit which was supposed to haunt it. To +her niece she did not speak of this: but she and Mrs. Toynbee--who was +very poorly at this time and kept much to her own chamber--talked +confidentially together, and agreed that matters altogether were more +doubtful than they ought to be. + +"This is a queer thing, Miss Ella, that folks down at Nullington are +whispering to one another," exclaimed Aaron, overtaking his mistress +one afternoon in the new conservatory. + +"What is it that they are whispering?" she turned to ask. + +"About that Captain Lennox. If 'twas him that robbed the Hall, then he +must have been the villain who destroyed my poor boy. Ah, ma'am, but +it's a terrible world!" + +"I fear some of us find it so, Aaron." + +"To think of it! Captain Lennox! But I never liked him, ma'am. I never +liked that sharp, foxy face of his." + +Ella mentally wondered whom the old man had liked. + +"I mistrusted him, Miss Ella, from the first time I saw him. When a +man talks to you so soft and silky-like, as the Captain did, and at +the same time fixes you with such a pair of cruel, hungry-looking +eyes, it is best to have nothing to do with him. I set such a man down +as dangerous." + +Miss Winter had herself always felt a secret distrust of Lennox, +without knowing the reason why. Perhaps, as Aaron had said, it was the +contrast between his smooth, dulcet tones, and the expression in his +cold, hard-set glances: any way, she had never taken cordially to +Captain Lennox. + +"Your wife seems but poorly to-day, Aaron," resumed Miss Winter, +purposely quitting the other subject. + +"She's a bigger ninny than ever," retorted Aaron, in an explosive +tone. "I beg pardon ma'am; but the old woman be enough to wear one's +patience out." + +Dorothy Stone seemed to live in a chronic state of fear. What was it +that she was afraid of, her husband would angrily ask her--and the +most he could make of her trembling answers was, that she was afraid +of the "ghosts." Heron Dyke had become a fearsome place, she would +say: any night she might meet Katherine Keen in the passages; or, +maybe, the dead Squire. Aaron, quite beside himself with wrath at all +this, threatened to shake her: but the threat made no visible +impression. Miss Winter would reason with her now and again; but the +old woman's life had become a trouble to herself. + +What little pleasure (a sadly negative one) she ever found in it, was +when she recalled all her grandson's perfections, and her past love +for him. To this she found sympathising listeners in the maids. + +"Where was there another like him?" she would say, from the easy-chair +before the fire in her own sitting-room, a huge black bow on her +muslin cap. "So bold, and handsome, and high-spirited--he was fit to +match with any gentleman in the land." + +"And so he was, ma'am," would make answer to her Phemie or Eliza. + +"When was that vision of the hearse and headless horses ever known to +show its warning for the likes of you and me?" she would continue; +"but it appeared for _him!_" + +For it was generally believed that not often was that dire portent +visible to mortal eye except when the scion of some great family was +about to be summoned hence; thus, as Dorothy looked upon it, the +vision must be regarded as a species of honour. It was for Macbeth +alone that the witches worked their spells and brewed their potions; +their business lay not with the rabble rout that called him captain. + +But there came an hour when, pondering upon these matters, it occurred +to Edward Conroy, a shrewd reasoner, that more might be in this +nervous terror of Dorothy's than she allowed to meet the eye. _What_ +was it that she was afraid of? He asked himself the question. Sitting +by the blazing fire in her own parlour, or in the kitchen bright with +sunlight, people around her within beck and call, it could not be that +she feared to see a ghost there--that poor Katherine Keen in the +spirit would walk in to confront her. Yet, that Dorothy would, and +did, sit there often in the day-time in unmistakable terror could not +be disputed. + +"How much does Dorothy know about the circumstances of your uncle's +death?" Mr. Conroy took an opportunity of inquiring of Ella. + +"Indeed, I cannot tell," replied Ella. "I have not liked to question +her. I dare say she knows no more than we know." + +"Um--that's as it may be. She was _here_ during all the time." + +"Oh yes, she was here." + +"Rather a queer notion that of hers, which I hear she has taken up," +continued Conroy after a long pause; "that she may meet the Squire's +ghost if she goes near his old rooms at night." + +"Dorothy was always so silly in that way. You have some motive, +Edward, in saying this." + +"Yes, I have been watching Dorothy--waylaying her when she steals out +to that little patch of herbs which she calls her own garden, and +turning in at other times to her sitting-room, ostensibly to hold with +her a bit of chat--and she gives me the impression of a woman who has +something on her mind; something that will not allow her to rest. + +"She has her superstitious fancies." + +"I don't mean her fancies. It is a more tangible fear--unless I am +mistaken." + +"A few days ago I found her crying and trembling," said Miss Winter. +"She told me she had dozed off in her chair over her work, and had had +a dream which frightened her. + +"Did she tell you what the dream was about?" + +"No. Except that she thought she saw my uncle in it." + +"Ah! It strikes me he is on her mind too much. I wish, Ella, you would +put a few questions to her about the Squire, and let me be present." + +"Not questions to alarm her, I suppose?" + +"My dear, if she knows of nothing wrong in connection with that time, +how could they alarm her?" + +"True. I will ask her to-morrow morning. She shall come in to take my +orders instead of my going to her." + +The next morning, Dorothy, full of her cares for dinner, for she was +still the housekeeper, and bustling enough in the early part of the +day, was summoned to Miss Winter's presence. Mr. Conroy had come to +the Hall betimes that day, and sat at the back of the room reading a +newspaper. + +Ella quietly gave her orders; and Dorothy received them intelligently +as usual. In her own department as housekeeper, the woman was capable +yet. + +"Is that all, Miss Ella?" she asked. + +"All for the present. I think of having a few friends to dinner soon; +Mr. Philip Cleeve and his wife, and the Vicar; and Lady Cleeve, if she +is able to come. Just half-a-dozen or so, besides ourselves--but I +will talk to you of that to-morrow." + +"Yes, ma'am," assented Dorothy, about to move away. + +"Wait a moment," said her mistress. "I wish to ask you a question or +two, Dorothy, about that Mrs. Dexter: the woman who nursed my uncle, +as I hear, during his last illness. I wish to see Mrs. Dexter. Can you +tell me where to find her?" + +Dorothy's hands began to tremble as though she had been suddenly +smitten with ague. She threw a look at her mistress so frightened and +imploring, that the latter almost regretted she had spoken, and then +she glanced beyond her at Mr. Conroy: but he seemed to see nothing but +his newspaper. + +"Do you know where I could find Mrs. Dexter?" repeated Miss Winter. + +"I don't know anything about Mrs. Dexter, ma'am," Dorothy whispered +forth in a twittering voice. "Nor do I ever wish to know." + +"You did not like her, then, Dorothy?" + +"I did not like her, ma'am." + +Miss Winter rose. "Sit down, Dorothy," she said kindly; "you need not +be put out. There, sit in that chair. And now tell me why you did not +like Mrs. Dexter." + +The trembling woman wiped her lips. "I can't tell why, ma'am. I +didn't, and that's all I know. When she first come here with Dr. Jago, +I was finely put out; hurt, if one may put it so. My nursing had been +good enough for my master up to then, and I thought it might have been +good enough still. I told the Doctor my mind." + +"Dorothy," continued Miss Winter, after a pause of thought, "I have +never questioned you about my uncle's death. The subject was a painful +one, and I was more deeply grieved than I can express that I was not +allowed to be here at the time. Did you see him up to the day of his +death?" + +"No," gasped Dorothy. + +"When did you see him last? How long before he died?" + +Again that same imploring look: but no answer. + +"You must tell me, Dorothy." + +"Not for weeks and weeks, ma'am," spoke the woman then, but with +evident reluctance. + +"That was strange, was it not? considering that you were always so +great a favourite with Uncle Gilbert." + +Dorothy lifted the corner of her clean white linen apron, and wiped +her face with trembling fingers. She seemed to gather a little +courage. "When he had that Mrs. Dexter, ma'am, he didn't want me, I +take it. She was the nurse, and she didn't let anybody go near the +master." + +"She kept him shut up behind the green baize doors, and would not let +him be seen by anyone: that is what you mean?" + +"That was just it, ma'am," assented Dorothy, more eagerly. + +"But they let you see him after he was dead--you who had been his +faithful servant for so many years? Surely they let you look for the +last time on that dear face so soon to be hidden for ever?" + +"Not even then did they let me see him," she cried. "No, ma'am, not +even then. It was cruel--cruel." + +"Cruel indeed. I did not think Aaron could have been so unkind to you. +He had one of the keys of the green doors, and could have let you +through at any time." + +Dorothy sighed, and let fall her apron. All this was beginning to +frighten her. Miss Winter advanced and stood in front of her. + +"There was nothing going on behind those green baize doors, was there, +Dorothy?" she asked in expressive tones, her eyes gazing straight into +the woman's; "nothing that they wanted to keep from you and from +everyone?" + +Dorothy flung up her arms with a sudden gesture of dismay. + +"Oh, mistress, ask me no more for heaven's sake!" she cried. "I know +nothing; I have nothing to tell." + +"_Nothing?_" repeated Miss Winter. + +"No, ma'am, nothing." + +And the poor shaking woman looked so distressed as she crept to the +door, that Miss Winter let her escape. + +"Ella," cried her lover quietly, rising from behind his newspaper, "it +is from that woman we must get the clue. She knows more than she dares +to tell. I am right; it is this trouble that is preying upon her +mind." + +"Certainly her manner is suggestive," assented Ella. "But look at her +distress: how shall we get anything more from her?" + +"That is just the point we have to consider," said Conroy. + +"Of one thing I am persuaded--that she would never tell me what is not +true." + +"Under ordinary circumstances, no; I believe that. But she may be +forced into it by Aaron and the rest of the conspirators." + +"Oh, Edward! Conspirators! Poor old Aaron!" + +"Well, my dear, time will show. If that old man has not a weighty +secret on his back, tell me that my name is not Conroy." + +For a few days, after this, things went on at the Hall in their usual +state of quiet monotony: perhaps we might say _dis_-quiet, could the +minds of some of its inmates have been read. Old Dorothy went about +her duties in a dazed manner: but nothing more was said to her. + +Gradually, finding herself let alone, the scare, which seemed to have +taken up its abode permanently on her face, began to leave it. + +"The young mistress must see that I can tell nothing," she told +herself, "and she won't frighten me again by asking me to. Why should +innocent folks suffer for the guilty? If that Dexter woman and that +horrid Jago had but never come anigh this miserable house!" + + +Late one afternoon, when the sun had set and the dusk of the January +evening was drawing on, there was heard a soft knock at the outer +door, which opened from the kitchen corridor into the shrubbery at the +back of the Hall. + +Dorothy was in her own room, adjoining the kitchen, the door between +them standing partly open. She had put down the grey stocking of her +husband, which she had been mending, and sat in the firelight, doing +nothing, save idly watching Phemie, who was preparing her tea in the +kitchen, and wondering whether Aaron would be very late. For Aaron and +the coachman had driven off to Nullington in the dog-cart, to despatch +some matter of business for Miss Winter. + +"Wasn't that a knock at the shrubbery-door, Phemie?" asked Dorothy, +raising her voice. + +"Well, I thought I heard something," replied Phemie, the only servant +at the moment in the kitchen. "I'll see directly, ma'am. It's only +Jem." + +Before Phemie could finish buttering the muffin she had been toasting, +the gentle knock was heard at the door a second time. Phemie ran along +the short passage and opened it. Expecting to see only the gardener's +boy, she started back in some alarm at sight of the strange figure +confronting her. Standing between the two lights, one ruddy and +homelike that streamed out of the kitchen doorway, the other pallid +and ghastly that was dying slowly in the western sky, Phemie saw a +tall and fierce-looking woman, tawny-skinned, and with bright black +eyes. A scarlet kerchief was bound round the tangle of her black hair; +a faded scarlet shawl was draped round her figure and knotted behind. +Thick hoops of gold were in her ears; rings glittered on her yellow +fingers. A gipsy fortune-teller without any doubt, as Phemie, after +the first moment of surprise, at once felt assured. She had seen women +attired somewhat like her in the country lanes round about. In her +astonishment she did not speak. But the stranger did. + +"Don't be afeard, honey. I am only an honest gipsy woman who has lost +her way. I want to get to Nullington: being uncertain o' the road, I +thought I'd make bold to turn aside here and ask it." + +"The road's as straight as you can go," answered Phemie. + +"Ah, but it's you that have a pair of wicked bright brown eyes, my +lass," whispered the gipsy; "it's you that will make some fine young +man's heart ache. Cross the poor gipsy's hand with a bit o' silver, +and she'll tell you your fortune true and fair." + +Phemie would have liked her fortune told very well indeed: but she +glanced back in the direction of Mrs. Stone's parlour beyond the +kitchen. + +"I daren't do it," she whispered, and tried to shut the door. + +By this time two or three of the other girls had come up, and were +gathering round. There ensued some laughing and giggling. + +"I want to tell your fortunes," said the gipsy, touching one and +another in a persuasive, friendly manner. "I heard there was some +pretty young women at this place, and I came to it o' purpose. Take me +into your bright kitchen there." + +"The old missis, she do be in the way," whispered the buxom +kitchen-maid, who was from Sussex. + +"Sure and the missus wouldn't want to deprive you of hearing o' the +future--and the sort o' looks o' the man that's waiting for ye, my +lass," returned the gipsy, walking boldly of her own accord into the +kitchen. The giggling servants followed her, and one of them +dexterously drew to the door of Mrs. Stone's parlour. Phemie hurried +in with the tea-tray, which she arranged on the round table; and in +going out shut the door. + +Bright sixpences were brought forth, hands were crossed with the +silver, and the credulous girls listened to "their fortunes." +Presently Dorothy Stone, sipping her tea and eating her muffin in +quietness, became aware of some unusual sounds, as of murmurings, in +the kitchen, interspersed with smothered bursts of laughter. + +"What can it be?" thought Dorothy. "They be always up to some nonsense +when Aaron's away." + +Opening the door, she looked out upon the scene; the wild, formidable +gipsy woman seated in her scarlet trappings; and half-a-dozen of the +girls standing round her. Dorothy, very much startled at the moment, +shrieked out, and the girls looked round. + +"What be you all at there?" she called out in a tremor. "Who is that? +Sally, this kitchen is not your place; what do you do in it?" + +The Sussex girl, who may have been addressed because she was the +tallest and biggest, turned her laughing face to her mistress and went +into the parlour. Dorothy, not feeling herself very competent to cope +with this, was sitting down again. + +"Oh, missus, do ye not be angry now," said the girl in her +good-humoured way. "We be only having our fortins told; she'll be gone +directly. She do be and say as my man'll be a soldier, and I'll have +to ride on the baggige-waggin." + +Dorothy took heart and courage--what would Miss Winter say if she knew +that she had allowed this? "I order you to be gone," she said, her +quavering voice marring the implied authority in no small degree. "Go +out of the house at once; how dared you to come into it?" + +"Who is that?" cried the gipsy. + +"Hush! It be Mrs. Stone, the housekeeper," whispered Phemie. "You had +better go." + +The gipsy woman rose, showing her large white teeth, and strode to the +door of the inner room. "Let the poor gipsy tell your fortune, good +mistress," she said, with smiling lips and a curtsey. + +For once Dorothy was roused to anger. "Go away, you bold woman!" she +cried shrilly. "Don't attempt to tell your lies to me. You have told +enough to those silly girls." + +The gipsy's face darkened; she strode a pace or two into the room. "I +have been telling lies, have I? Well, then, let me tell the truth to +you:" and, bending her tall form, she whispered a few words rapidly in +the old woman's ear. + +Dorothy's face turned ashy white as she heard them. She sank back in +her chair with a low cry. + +"Is that the truth, or is it not?" asked the gipsy. + +But Dorothy could not answer. She could only stare tremblingly and +helplessly at the fortune-teller. + +The gipsy turned to the wondering maids. "Shut that door and leave us +together," she said in an imperious tone. "This good mistress here and +I have something to say to each other." + +The door was closed immediately, and the two women were left alone. +The servants waited long enough to grow uncomfortable. What could that +strange gipsy woman be doing with the old missis? + +"We had better go in and see that all's right," at length spoke +Phemie, who had perhaps a shade more thought than the rest, "She may +have frighted her into a fit." + +At that moment the parlour door was opened, and the gipsy came out. +Shutting the door behind her, she strode through the kitchen without a +word to the frightened group standing there, let herself out of the +house, and departed by the shrubbery, as she had come. + +The servants gazed into each other's faces in silence. Then, as with +one accord, they opened the parlour door, and peeped in. + +Dorothy Stone had her head bent on the table beside the tea-tray, and +was sobbing tears, dreadful to hear, of fright, distress, and pain. + + + + +CHAPTER X. +THE TRUTH AT LAST. + + +It was a lovely January morning sunny but cold, as the ladies sat +around the breakfast-table at Heron Dyke. Miss Winter scarcely spoke a +word during the meal, and scarcely touched a mouthful; she seemed +buried in thought. + +"What is the matter with you, Ella?" asked Mrs. Carlyon, noticing +this. "Surely you are not going to be ill!" + +"I was never better in all my life, Aunt Gertrude, than I am this +morning," answered Ella, with her sweet, serious smile. "Only I do not +seem to be in the humour for talking." + +"Nor for eating either, apparently," said Mrs. Carlyon with a shake of +her cap-strings. "I don't like the symptoms; and if you have not +recovered your appetite at luncheon I shall think it time to send for +Dr. Spreckley." At which Ella laughed. + +By-and-by, Ella put on her hat and shawl and went out, strolling +across the garden towards the way in which she might expect the +approach of her lover. He was already in sight. Drawing her hand +within his arm when they met, he and she paced about for the best part +of an hour, talking eagerly. It was the day subsequent to the gipsy's +visit to the kitchen, when she had told the fortunes of the maids +and--perhaps--of Dorothy Stone, and this conversation ran on that +event. The reader will very probably have divined that the gipsy's +visit had been a ruse; a thing planned by Conroy, to get some +information out of Dorothy. + +Going indoors, Ella and Mr. Conroy proceeded to the old Squire's +sitting-room, which had not been used since his death. A fire, +ordered in it this morning, burnt brightly on the hearth. Ella paused +for a moment on the threshold. There was her uncle's big leathern +high-backed chair, with the screen behind it, as in the days that were +gone. There was the little old-fashioned table with the twisted legs +that used to stand at his elbow. It needed but a slight stretch of +imagination to fancy that presently the Squire's heavy footstep would +be heard, that he would come in with his curt "good-morrow," and begin +at once to poke the fire, which was a thing that he believed no one +could do as well as himself. Ella's eyes filled with tears. + +"Courage, my dear," whispered Conroy. "Think of the present just now, +not of the past." + +She brushed away her tears and nodded, as she rang the bell. It was +answered by one of the maids, Phemie; who was desired to inform Aaron +Stone that his mistress waited for him in the Squire's old room. + +Aaron received the message with an incredulous stare. + +"You must be dreaming," he said wrathfully. "The missus in that cold +room--and wanting to see me in it! Be off with your tales." + +"Is it cold!" retorted Phemie. "There's a wood fire blazing in it up +to the top of the chimney. And the mistress is there, sir, with Mr. +Conroy, and she is waiting for you." + +Aaron obeyed slowly, fuming a little. He did not like being sent for +by Miss Winter and talked to before Mr. Conroy. With all his heart he +wished Mr. Conroy well away from Heron Dyke; he was the only man whom +Aaron feared. His look of cold, dark, grave scrutiny always +disconcerted the old man. What he and Dorothy should do when Mr. +Conroy married the mistress and became master of Heron Dyke, which +would undoubtedly be the case before long, was a thought that had +troubled him a good deal of late. + +Aaron paused when he opened the door, and shivered as he looked in. +What could he be wanted for in that room, of all others? Had anything +been found out? + +"Come in, Aaron," said Miss Winter. "Shut the door, and sit down." + +She was leaning back in one of the smaller chairs. Mr. Conroy stood +against the old-fashioned mantelpiece. The old man took a chair near +the door with a sinking heart. + +"Some considerable time ago, Aaron," began his mistress in a grave but +not unkindly voice, "I put certain questions to you bearing reference +to my uncle's illness and death. I had been led to suppose that some +mystery attached to that time, and that, whatever it was, it had been +kept, and was intended to be kept, from me. You denied it; you told me +I was mistaken." + +"No, no, Miss Ella, I kept nothing back from you; I didn't indeed," +answered the old man, in a trembling, beseeching voice, his agitation +pitiable to see. + +"But I now know that you did, Aaron. I know that while my uncle was +said to have died in the middle of May, he really died weeks and weeks +before that date! Will you tell me why you induced me to believe that +it was my uncle whom John Tilney and the choristers from Nullington +saw on the evening of his birthday, and whom Mr. Plackett, the lawyer +from London, saw a day or two later, and whom Mr. Daventry's partner +saw--when you knew quite well that it was you yourself, dressed up so +as to personate your master, whom each and all of them beheld?" + +Aaron's teeth began to chatter. + +"The truth is known to me at last," continued Ella. "Do not make any +further attempts to deceive me; they will be useless." + +"Quite useless," struck in Conroy, a sternness in his tone that Miss +Winter's had lacked. "We know all." + +What little tinge of colour had been in Aaron's rugged face fled from +it; he looked like a man suddenly stricken with some mortal sickness. +He turned his affrighted eyes from his mistress to Conroy, and from +Conroy to her again. + +"Better make a clean breast of it," said Conroy, quietly. + +"I will," at length spoke Aaron, in a husky whisper, probably seeing +that no other course remained to him. "The Squire did die afore May; +long afore his birthday too, the twenty-fourth of April." + +"It was a dreadful fraud!" gasped Ella. + +"Ay, 'twas a fraud," assented Aaron. "It was not me, though, that set +it agate; I only helped to carry it out." + +"Who did set it agate?" asked Conroy. + +"Hubert: my grandson Hubert. Him and the Squire between them." + +"The Squire!" cried Ella, reproachfully. "Aaron!" + +"It's true, ma'am. He couldn't rest for fear of dying before his +birthday; old Spreckley let him know that he'd not live to see it, +except by a miracle, and it a'most killed him. Hubert thought of +something. He had been reading just then in one of his French books of +a gentleman in France who died and was kept alive for months +afterwards--leastways was said to be kept alive, to deceive the world. +He told the Squire of this, and the Squire caught at it eagerly; and +they spoke to Jago, and he helped to carry it out." + +"And you helped too," said Conroy. + +"I did it for the best--for the best," sighed Aaron, the tears +starting to his eyes as he slightly lifted his wrinkled hands. +"Moreover, the Squire ordered me: and when did I ever disobey him? +'Twas in this very room, Miss Ella"--looking across at her--"that he +first spoke to me. I had come in to get him ready for bed, and he told +me about it. At the first blush I felt frightened to death; I said to +him, 'Master, it can't be done.' 'It can be done, and shall be done; +how dare you dissent!' he answered me angrily, and I didn't dare to +say more." + +What could Ella answer? + +"'Twas all for you, Miss Ella; all for you," shivered the faithful old +servant--for faithful he was, despite this wrong-doing. "How could you +have inherited Heron Dyke had the master not lived over his birthday? +'Twould have gone right away to the other people. A nice thing for +that other Denison to have come in to the old place! Swindlers and +spies, all the lot of 'em! If----" + +"Be silent!" sternly struck in Conroy. "How dare you presume so to +speak of your master's kinsman?" + +Aaron looked up with a gasp. + +"Mr. Denison of Nunham Priors is every whit as honourable as the late +Mr. Denison of Heron Dyke. Take care how you speak of him in future. +And remember that he is Mr. Denison of Heron Dyke now--and would have +been so ever since last April but for your plotting." + +Never had Conroy been so moved--so stern. + +Ella, though assenting in her heart to every word, looked at him in +surprise. Aaron felt checked and mortified; he thought this was pretty +assumption for a man who was but a newspaper reporter, and would have +liked to say so. + +"Mistress," he stammered in a husky voice, "how did you come to know +about the Squire?" + +"That I must decline to tell you," spoke Miss Winter. "It is enough +that I do know it. Had you but told me the truth when I first +questioned you, what annoyance it would have saved both myself and +you!" + +But the aged retainer could only reiterate, "I did it for the best." + +Mr. Conroy spoke. + +"I want you to tell me, Aaron, the real date of the Squire's death." + +Aaron threw a quick, sour, suspicious look at his interlocutor. + +"Am I to answer that question, Miss Ella? he asked, in an aggrieved +tone. + +"Certainly." + +"Well, then, if you must know, sir, he died on the 19th of February," +was the answer, grudgingly given. + +"The 19th of February. What did you do then?" + +"Why, what should we do but put the body into a coffin that had been +ordered from London two months before by the Squire's own directions. +Hubert ordered it, and it was sent down in a packing-case, and the +servants were told that it was a new sort of invalid-chair for the +master." + +"Oh. And this coffin, nailed down, I suppose, was kept in the room?" + +"In the lumber-room off the bed-room; nobody had ever thought o' going +in there. We kept the room locked mostly after that." + +"Just one moment," interposed Ella. "Was the account you gave me of my +uncle's death--what happened the evening it took place--a true one?" + +"Every word," answered the old man. "Save that it was in February +'stead o' May, ma'am." + +"Whose idea was it that you should personate your master after his +death?" resumed Conroy. + +Aaron did not answer at once. His eyes had taken a dull far-away +expression, as though he were lost in the past. + +"Such a lot o' things had to be done that wasn't at first thought of," +he presently said. "Nobody can foresee what ins and outs a matter will +take when it be first planned. Hubert saw that it might not be enough +to say the Squire lived over his birthday; people might clamour to see +him and convince theirselves of it; and Jago, he saw it also." + +"Yes. Go on." + +"They thought there was nothing for it but that I must be dressed up +to personate him. I fought against it; I did indeed, Miss Ella," +lifting his eyes to his mistress, "but 'twas o' no manner o' use my +holding out; for, as they pointed out to me, all might have been +discovered unless I gave in." + +"So they dressed you up!" cried Conroy. + +"Hubert did it--the whole scheme was carried out by Hubert. Oh, but he +was a clever lad; an amazing clever lad! Jago was deep and cunning, +but he had not the talent of Hubert. Who but he got me a wig to +imitate the Squire's long white hair, and a velvet skull-cap? I had to +put them and the dressing-gown on every day and be drilled for an +hour, till I used sometimes to half fancy that I had been +transmogrified into the Squire himself. It took in Daventry's partner, +and them lawyer rascals from London, finely!--and the band from +Nullington and John Tilney and his wife! I had on the cat's-eye ring +that the Squire had worn for thirty years." + +"Dr. Jago was in the secret from the first. + +"Of course he was, sir. He was just the man for a job of that sort, +and it couldn't have been done without a doctor." + +Mr. Conroy had been jotting down a few notes in his pocket-book. + +"I think that is all for the present," he said to Aaron. "If any other +questions should occur to me, I can ask them later." + +Aaron rose stiffly from his chair. To his ears there seemed an +assumption of authority, of power in Conroy, excessively distasteful +to him. But the cloud vanished from his countenance and his rugged +features softened as his eyes rested on his mistress. No anger, no +haughty condemnation sat on that fair young face; only a sort of +sweet, patient sadness. + +"Miss Ella, you know everything now," he whispered, moving a step or +two nearer to her. "But what of that? The world's none the wiser and +never need be. The secret's as safe now as ever it was." + +"Yes, Aaron, I know everything," answered Ella, a little wearily. "I +know that I am no longer the mistress of Heron Dyke. I know that the +dear old home no longer belongs to me but to another! But I also know +that he will be a worthy inheritor." + +Aaron gasped--as if demented. + +"But, Miss Ella, you have only to hold your tongue and nobody will +ever be a bit the wiser. The Squire bound us all not to tell you, but +now that you've found it out for yourself, there's no harm done. You +surely would not tell--no, no! not that--not that!" + +"I have no alternative, Aaron. I would do that which is right. This +home is not mine: it must be given up to him to whom it rightly +belongs." + +"Oh, ma'am!--Miss Ella! My master would turn in his grave if he could +hear your words. Give up the old place? No--no! And not a soul who +knows the secret but ourselves and Jago--and the nurse: and their +mouths are sealed!" + +"If my uncle, out of that larger knowledge which I doubt not is now +his, were permitted to counsel me, do you not think he would urge me +to do that which is just and honourable?" said Ella, condescending to +reason with him, in pity for his evident wretchedness. "Your master +sees now with other eyes than those he saw with when on earth; he +would not ask me to keep what is not, and never has been, mine; that +which he would have me do, could he speak to me, is the thing I must +do, and no other." + +Aaron listened, but he was not convinced. + +"To think of the estate going to them that the master hated so! Sneaks +and spies----" + +"Not another word!" severely spoke Miss Winter. "You forget yourself, +Aaron." + +The old man bowed his head and let his arms fall by his side with a +gesture of despair. Turning, he hobbled slowly from the room. + +"Poor, faithful old soul!" cried Ella, as she gazed after him. +"Wrongly though he has acted, it was done in loyalty to my uncle and +me. And so, Edward," she added, bravely smiling through her tears, +"you see that you will not have a well-dowered bride." + +"So much the better, sweet one," answered Conroy, stealing his arm +round her. "You will then owe something to me, instead of my owing so +much to you. Nobody can now call me a fortune-hunter." + +"They have not called you one." + +"Have they not! Ask that old man, now gone out, what he thinks of me +in his private thoughts. Ask your Aunt Gertrude; ask Mrs. Toynbee--ask +the world." + +"I am sure you have never been _that_." + +"I don't think I have. But, Ella, it will be a sore parting--this of +yours from Heron Dyke." + +"I try not to think of it yet. When the day shall come I shall try to +bear it as I best may." + +"Who knows but that old gentleman at Nunham Priors will give it up to +you to live in?" suggested Conroy. "Has he not said something of the +kind to you?" + +"And do you think I would impose upon his generosity by staying? No, +no. This is the place of his ancestors, and it must be his--his +entirely; and his son's after him. You forget he has a son, Edward." + +"One Master Frank, I believe. A graceless young fellow, by all +accounts." + +"That may be; but he is still a Denison, and the heir after his +father. Besides--you have indeed been speaking without thought, +Edward!--how could poor people, such as we shall be, speaking +comparatively, live at a grand old place like this? It requires a +grand income to keep it up." + +"Dear me! So it does." + +"You had better give me up, perhaps, Edward, now things have turned +out for the worse," she suggested, her voice slightly trembling. "I +shall only be a clog upon your ambition, and keep you down." + +"Do you think so?" he rejoined gravely. "You will be afraid to venture +on marriage with a man so poor as I? Well, there's little doubt you +might marry a rich one. Many a man high in the world's favour might be +glad to woo and win you. Young ladies with only a tithe of your good +looks make rich marriages every season; why should not you? You have +always be enused to the luxuries and refinements of life; it would be +a misery to me not to be able to afford you them still. Had we not +better part?" + +Ella was looking at him with a startled expression in her eyes, as if +she were half afraid he might be in earnest, and was taking her at her +word. Edward Conroy's pleasant laugh rang out. He drew her to him and +kissed her tenderly. + +"Why, what a great goose you are to-day!" he said. "As if you did not +know that our love was altogether independent of either poverty or +riches, and that neither one nor the other of them could affect it in +any way. You are mine and I am yours, and no caprices of worldly +fortune can come between us. And now let us fling our cares to the +wind for a little while, and forget everything except that we do love +each other, and that the sun is shining, and that Rover and Caprice +are waiting to be saddled. Put on your riding-habit and let us go for +a long gallop in the sweet January sunshine. If we are not to have +many more rides together, it were wise to enjoy them while we may." + +When Aaron Stone quitted the presence of his mistress he was like a +man utterly dazed and confounded. It was not merely the shock of +finding that the elaborate house of cards which he and others had +helped to build had tumbled to pieces so suddenly about his ears that +dismayed him: it was the fact of Miss Winter's having succeeded in +unravelling a plot which had been so patiently planned and so +carefully guarded from discovery, that nonplussed the old retainer. So +far as he was aware, the secret of the Squire's death could be known +to three people alone: to himself, to Dr. Jago, and to Mrs. Dexter: +Hubert was no longer living. Both Jago and Mrs. Dexter had been well +paid for their share in the affair, and neither of them would be +likely to speak of what would render themselves liable to a criminal +prosecution. From what unknown source, then, could Miss Winter have +obtained her information? Aaron could not answer: and the oftener he +asked himself the question, the more puzzled and bewildered he became. +As to that bumptious Conroy--one might think the whole place belonged +to him to see him and hear his tones! + +"There's witchcraft in it, altogether; that's what there is," +concluded the dazed old man. + +And witchcraft there was in it, but of a kind different from that +imagined by Aaron Stone. + +Convinced that Dorothy Stone knew more than she dared tell, that the +clue to the secret might be got from her by stratagem, though perhaps +never by a straightforward examination, Edward Conroy set his wits to +work. She was so full of superstitious fancies and beliefs, it seemed +to him something might be effected by playing upon them. At first Miss +Winter objected, but she grew to see that if the means used were not +perfectly legitimate, the end to be obtained certainly was. In fact +there seemed to be no other way, and they could not go on living in +their present state of uncertainty. + +During a recent visit of Conroy to London, he had witnessed a +representation of the play of "Guy Mannering," and had been much +struck by the powerful way in which the character of Meg Merrilies was +portrayed. The actress who played the part was known to the public +under the name of Miss Murcott. She was a lady of irreproachable +character; and Mr. Conroy had been introduced to her, after the play +was over, by one of his newspaper friends. In furtherance of the +object he had now in view, he went up to London again, sought an +interview with the actress, and enlisted her sympathy. The result was +that Miss Murcott went down to Nullington, and took up her abode for a +night at Mrs. Keen's, who had been prepared to receive her by Mr. +Conroy. In the disguise of a gipsy, and under pretence of telling the +maids of Heron Dyke their fortunes, she obtained access to Dorothy +Stone, Aaron's absence having been secured by his mistress. Using the +information confidentially given her by Conroy, she whispered words +into Dorothy's ear that so startled her, as to render her pliable as a +lamb. + +"Give me your hand," said the sham gipsy: and the dazed and trembling +woman held it out without a dissenting word. + +Holding the withered palm in her own, the gipsy proceeded to scan it +closely, tracing the different lines with her forefinger. + +"This indicates a coffin," she said; and Dorothy groaned. "And +this--why what _is_ this? It seems to point to a hale old man with +long white hair, who wears something dark on his head, and is put into +the coffin before----" + +"Oh, don't, don't!" shrieked Dorothy, trying in vain to withdraw her +hand from the gipsy's firm grasp. + +"What have we here?" continued the fortune-teller. "A darkened room +where people walk with hushed footsteps; green doors that open and +shut without noise; a little white-faced man with a black moustache +and evil eyes!----And this dark line must be a secret--a secret with a +crime in it that might drive you forth from your grave at midnight had +you committed it----" + +"I didn't commit it," moaned Dorothy. "They never let me know of it." + +"No, but you found it out; you hold the secret; this line shows me +that. You must disclose it. Tell it at once before it be too late--too +late!" + +"What shall I do?" sobbed Dorothy: "What shall I do?" + +"What I bid you," said the woman, sternly. "Tell me all you know--or +there will be no peace for you living or dead." + +It needed no more to induce Dorothy to do as she was bidden. With many +sighs, and groans, and hesitations, her story came out little by +little. It appeared that in those past days the housekeeper's +curiosity was aroused, and to a certain extent her anger also, at +being kept in ignorance of what was going on behind the green baize +doors, and at not being allowed to penetrate beyond them herself. +"They treat me as if I was a common pantry-maid," she would say with +bitterness. The position also that Mrs. Dexter took up in the +household by no means tended to soothe these ruffled feelings. "I've +helped to nurse the master for the last twenty years when he has been +ill, and now I've got to make room for a strange woman!" she said to +Aaron; and all the answer Dorothy got from him was an order to concern +herself with her own business. "There's something going on behind +those doors that they are afeard to be let known," concluded the +shrewd old woman in her mind. + +Dorothy determined to go beyond the doors, if she could get a chance +of it, and tell her wrongs to the Squire himself; and she watched for +an opportunity. It came at last. One afternoon when Aaron had gone to +Nullington, he came home all the worse for the pints of strong ale he +had taken. Not often did he transgress in this way; and, with the view +of hiding it from the household, he went straight to bed, saying the +sun had given him a headache, and fell asleep. Dorothy filched the key +of the green baize doors from his pocket. Mrs. Dexter, who rarely left +the house, had gone this afternoon to the railway-station, to send off +some private telegram that she would not trust to anybody else; and +Hubert Stone was out riding. In a perfect flutter of excitement, +Dorothy took the key to the green baize doors; she ventured to open +them both, and went on. Knocking at the door of the Squire's +sitting-room, she waited for the answering "Come in." It did not reach +her ears. She thought he might be dozing, and opened the door, all in +a twitter of eagerness to ask and hear from her master why she was +excluded. The room was empty. He is in bed, thought Dorothy, and went +to the chamber. That also was empty. She stood bewildered; what could +be the meaning of it? Perhaps the Squire had stepped into the +lumber-room for something--she opened its door gently, and gave one +glance around. That one brief look was quite enough. A low scream +broke from her lips; then, hardly knowing what she was about, she +closed the door, and fled back by the way she had come. What she saw +in the third room was a closed coffin--the very coffin which she saw +carried out of the Hall some two months later on the day of Mr. +Denison's funeral. + +The Squire must be dead; she saw that: but why were they concealing +it? Watching and prying about after this, Dorothy, without seeming to +see anything, saw enough to convince her that, after the death was +really announced to the world, it was no other than her own husband +who personated the dead Squire. She stole into the garden the night +the musicians were playing, and distinguished Aaron's features in his +master's clothes. The day Mr. Charles Plackett was expected from +London, Dorothy watched and saw her husband turn back privately, and +go stealing into the Squire's rooms, instead of proceeding on his +pretended walk to Nullington. All this was confessed to the gipsy +woman, who in her turn related it to Miss Winter and Mr. Conroy. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. +CONVERGING THREADS. + + +Events now began to follow quickly on the steps of each other. + +Philip Cleeve had not yet engaged in any active business. After his +return home he had had a slight relapse, and Dr. Spreckley said +business must wait. Old Mr. Marjoram, hearing of this in London, for +Maria often wrote to him, sent a peremptory mandate for Philip to go +back to his house to be nursed. But Philip was getting better now. + +Matters were arranged with Mr. Tiplady: and that gentleman had already +ordered a new brass plate for his office-door--"Messrs. Tiplady and +Cleeve; Architects and Surveyors." The necessary money had been paid +by Maria: and the Vicar did not withhold his sanction. Philip would +take a fair income for a year or two, then become full partner, and +succeed to the whole whenever it should please Mr. Tiplady to retire. +It was a very fair prospect, and the Reverend Mr. Kettle saw no cause +to grumble at it. + +One little clause, known only to Mr. Daventry, who drew it up, to Mr. +Tiplady, and to Philip, was inserted in the deed of partnership. It +was to the effect that Philip could not come upon the firm for any +money whatever beyond his salary; if he contracted debts, Mr. Tiplady +was secured from the fear of having to pay them. + +"It is only a matter of precaution, Cleeve, inserted as much for your +own sake as for mine," Mr. Tiplady said to him in private. "I have not +much fear that you will be playing cards for high stakes again, or +betting at billiards. Or," added the architect, with a grim smile, +"investing your spare cash in silver mines." + +"Never again; never again," whispered Philip, tears of emotion filling +his eyes, as he clasped the hand of his good friend. + +The paying of the money had been a surprise to Mr. Tiplady, knowing, +as he did, Philip's penniless state. Without saying a word to her +husband, Maria had gone to Mr. Tiplady, and had made over to him the +twelve hundred pounds which, long before, he had agreed with Lady +Cleeve should be the amount of premium to be paid him in consideration +of taking Philip into partnership. How gratifying to Philip it was to +know that his mother was never to hear the truth of his folly; that +she was to be left in the belief that the money she had made him a +loving present of on his birthday, had all gone in the silver mine! In +her fond eyes Philip always remained the most peerless of sons. What a +weight was lifted off the young man's heart by this generous act of +his wife! From that day forward his health improved rapidly; he grew +again like the merry, light-hearted Philip Cleeve of old times, his +laugh a pleasure to hear. But the lesson taught him was not one to be +readily forgotten. And there would be one sweet presence ever by his +side to see that his footsteps did not falter, and to cheer him onward +whenever the road before him seemed hard and difficult to travel. +Philip Cleeve had learnt his life's lesson. + +In truth, he had been more lucky than he deserved, and he was to be +more so yet. Apart from his past follies, the one item of remembrance +that made him wince was the thought that his wife should have +sacrificed a great portion of her little fortune to patch up his. Even +this bitterness was to be taken from him. + +Just at this time his brother, Sir Gunton Cleeve, was despatched to +England on some mission by the embassy to which he was attached; and +he snatched an opportunity to run down to Homedale for four-and-twenty +hours. To him Philip made a clean breast of the past, confessing +everything: the card-playing, the billiard-playing, the personal +extravagance in the shape of petty ornaments and the like; and the +voracious silver mine that had quite finished him. + +"Why, what a silly young fellow you must have been!" exclaimed the +baronet. + +"I know it, Gunton, to my cost. I shall know it all my days." + +Sir Gunton had sown a few wild oats during his youth, though he had +long ago steadied down, and he was not inclined to be too severe. + +"What I don't like, Philip, is this, that your wife should have had to +pay the premium to Tiplady. It looks mean--for us. What does the +mother say?--and the Vicar?" + +"The Vicar has said nothing to me: I don't think he intends to blow me +up; he has been very good, I must confess. All he said to Maria was, +that the money was her own and he could not interfere. As to the +mother, Gunton, she knows nothing of my wicked folly; she thinks the +twelve hundred pounds was all swallowed up by the mine. Maria went to +Tiplady, and paid over the money without saying a word to anybody." + +"Well, look here, Philip. I can't stand this: a Cleeve was never mean +yet--at least in our day. I am not rich, as you know, but I can manage +this much. I will pay the premium to Tiplady; that is, I will refund +the money to Maria: and you had better let it be settled upon her. But +I do it in the belief that you will never play at folly again: +understand that, young fellow." + +The tears had rushed to Philip's eyes. + +"Oh, Gunton, you may trust me! How generous you are!" + +When Philip had done thanking him, they began to talk of Captain +Lennox and the suspicions attaching to him. + +"Where is he now?" asked Sir Gunton. + +"Nobody knows. He can't be found--by the police, or by anybody else. +By the way, you knew him three or four years ago. Gunton." + +"_I_ knew him!" retorted Sir Gunton. "Knew Lennox!" + +"Any way, you have seen him. You met him at Cheltenham, at Major +Piper's. Young Conroy, a fellow up at Heron Dyke, told me that much. +The Major had a card-party, and you and Lennox were both at it, he +said; and the next day the Major's jewels were missing. If you +recollect, you spent a few days at Cheltenham about that time." + +"Yes, I did; and I recollect the evening. Lennox?--Lennox? Ay, I do +remember him now. A fair, slender man of very gentlemanly manners: +wore a white rose in his button-hole." + +"That's he. One can hardly believe him to be an accomplished +swindler." + +"If he played these pranks often, helping himself to jewels and +purses, and the like, he must have been uncommonly lucky to go on so +long without detection," observed Sir Gunton. + +"The very remark Conroy made to me." + +"Pray, who is Conroy?" + +"The luckiest man living," replied Philip, with enthusiasm. + +"That's saying a good deal," cried the baronet, lifting his eyebrows. + +"Well, upon my word, I think he is, Gunton," returned Philip. "He is +nothing but a man connected with newspapers; draws cartoons for them, +or something of that. He and Miss Winter met somewhere and fell in +love with one another, and she means to marry him and make him the +master of Heron Dyke." + +"Oh, indeed. What next?" + +"I think that's pretty well. You can't say but he is lucky." + +"Is the man a sneak?" + +"Just the opposite. A highly-educated, open-mannered, masterful kind +of man, who can hold his own with his betters, and apparently, not +recognise them to be so. To see him and hear him you might think he +had been born the master of Heron Dyke at least. Any way, that's what +Ella Winter intends him to become." + +"She has the Denison blood in her veins, I suppose, and we know the +old distich," carelessly remarked Sir Gunton: + + + "'Whate'er a Denzon choose to do + Need ne'er surprise nor me nor you.'" + + +The small dinner-party at Heron Dyke, of which Miss Winter spoke to +her housekeeper, was held without much delay. Philip, getting strong +then, was able to attend it with his mother and Maria. Lady Maria +Skeffington, who had been taking a good deal of notice of Maria since +her marriage; the Vicar, and Dr. Spreckley completed the party. + +Dinner was over, and they were all back in the large drawing-room when +the evening post was brought in. It was some hours late; the postman +said there had been a break-down on the line. Three or four newspapers +came in, and one letter, which was addressed to Miss Winter. It bore +the American post-mark; and Ella's curiosity arose, not so much +because she knew no one in America, as that she thought the +handwriting was Margaret Ducie's. + +"Oh, I must open it," she exclaimed, taking it into the next room. + +The intervening doors were open, and they watched her read the letter. +She came back with it in her hand, looking a little pale. + +"It is from Mrs. Ducie," she said in a low tone to her guests: "it is +dated from Rhode Island, America. I think you ought to hear it. +Perhaps"--turning to Mr. Conroy--"you will read it aloud." + +Conroy took the letter from her hand, glanced over it, and began: + + +"'Mrs. Ducie, late of The Lilacs near Nullington, takes the liberty of +addressing a few lines to Miss Winter of Heron Dyke. She does it with +great reluctance, as Miss Winter will readily understand; but the +charge is laid upon her, and she cannot evade it: the time being now +come when certain facts connected with the past must be made known. + +"'Mrs. Ducie's brother, known to Miss Winter and to others as Captain +Lennox, died two days ago. Enclosed is a declaration which he +dictated, word for word, before his death; with a request that it +might be forwarded to the proper quarter immediately after that event +should have taken place. + +"'Mrs. Ducie can make no attempt to palliate anything that happened in +the past. As it was, so it must remain. If all were known, which it +never can be here on earth, it would sometimes be found that the +greatest sinners were first driven into sin by no wish or will of +their own. Many, who were destined to fill an honourable career, have +been forced by circumstances which they could not control on a +contrary path. The dead are sacred; and she, who is obliged to write +these painful lines, can never forget that she has lost a brother, +who, whatever his faults might be, was dearer to her heart than anyone +now left to her.'" + + +Such was Mrs. Ducie's note. The enclosed paper was also in her +handwriting. Mr. Conroy went on to read it. + + +"'I, Ferdinand Lennox, or the man commonly known by that name, being +about to quit this petty planet, and set out on my travels to that +unknown country from which there is no return, am desirous, while +there is still sufficient strength and clearness of mind left me, to +state the facts with regard to a certain event as they really +occurred; which facts will probably be found to be somewhat different +from what the world believes them to be. I allude to the death of +Hubert Stone. + +"'The fates had been unpropitious for some time; circumstances were +against me; I had lost heavily on the turf and in other speculations, +and was nearly at my wit's end for lack of ready money. It was at this +time that my sister, quite innocently, told me of the strange +discovery of a quantity of old family jewels at Heron Dyke. + +"'And, in justice to her, my good and faithful sister, I may here +remark that since she came to live with me I have been more cautious, +and have striven to keep my little peccadilloes from her knowledge. +She may have thought sometimes that my luck at the card-table was +something out of the common way, but of the darker passages of my life +she knew absolutely nothing. + +"'It did not take me long to decide that I must make those jewels mine +if it were by any means possible to do so. My circumstances just then +were desperate, and a _coup de main_ had become absolutely necessary. +Burglary was altogether out of my line, but in this case the +enterprise seemed to me so peculiarly an easy one that I could not +make up my mind to forego it. I knew the position of the room in which +the jewels were lying. I knew that it was only a question of opening a +window and forcing a shutter, after the family should be safe in bed. +There were no dogs to fear, and the servants slept in another wing of +the house. Nothing could possibly be more easy. I felt that I could +never forgive myself if I allowed such an opportunity to escape me. + +"'Up to a certain point, everything happened in accordance with my +expectations. The Hall was in darkness; there was no sign of life +anywhere. I found the window I was in search of, and a few minutes +later I stood inside the room. I opened a slide of my dark lantern and +took a survey. There stood the bureau in the corner where I had +expected to find it. I had brought a small chisel and one or two other +implements with me, and a very little time sufficed to force open the +receptacle in which the jewels were stored. What a fine glow filled my +heart as I feasted my sight for a few moments on their flashing +beauty, and recognised the fact that they were all my own! For some +time to come my finances were assured. + +"'I was wearing an old shooting-jacket with many pockets, so that I +had no difficulty in stowing away my booty. I was putting away the +last handful when a noise behind me made me start and look round. +There was just enough starlight to enable me to discern the figure of +a man standing at the open, window and gazing into the room. Flashing +a ray from my lantern across his face, I at once recognised the man as +Hubert Stone. A moment later he had vaulted over the low window-sill +into the room. 'Surrender, you villain,' he cried, 'or it will be +worse for you!' I did not answer, but moved noiselessly in the +darkness over the soft carpet to another corner of the room. He was +evidently nonplussed, and after standing still for a moment or two I +could just make out his figure as he advanced slowly but in a +direction opposite to the spot where I was standing. Now was my +opportunity. I made a rush for the window, reached it, and was leaping +from it; when, as ill-luck would have it, my foot caught against the +slightly-raised framework, and I fell face downward on to the +gravelled pathway. Hurt and bleeding, I regained my feet, but only to +find myself enclosed by the stalwart arms of young Stone. 'Surrender!' +he said again. Again I made no answer, hoping he had not recognised +me, and a desperate struggle began between us: but he was the younger +and the stronger, and presently we were rolling over each other on the +ground. It must have been then that I lost the sleeve-link; which loss +has led to all the mischief as regards myself. Although I could by no +means get away from Stone, he was unable altogether to overpower me. +Suddenly, while holding me down with his right hand, with his left he +drew from some inner pocket a closed knife, which, with the help of +his teeth, he presently contrived to open. 'If you will not +surrender,' he said, 'I will mark you so that you can be traced +wherever you go.' What he was about to do I know not, but I suddenly +struck up my arm, and the knife flew out of his hand. His object was +now to regain possession of it, while mine was to keep him from doing +so. We were still struggling on the ground; when, I know not how it +was, but suddenly my fingers felt the knife as it lay among the +gravel. I gripped it instinctively and drew it towards me, and Stone +perceived that I had got it. He bent suddenly forward to regain +possession of it, but as he did so the point slipped and penetrated +deep into his chest. A short sharp cry broke from his lips, he sprang +to his feet at a single bound, threw up his hands, staggered a pace or +two, groaned, and fell on his face--no doubt dead. + +"'Once for all, let me assert most solemnly, and at a time when to +tell a lie in the matter could be of no possible benefit to me, that I +am utterly guiltless of intentionally causing Hubert Stone's death. +His fate was the result of an accident brought on by his own rashness. +Had he left the knife in his pocket he would have been alive at the +present moment; although how the struggle would have terminated in +that case, and what might have happened to me, is another matter. + +"'After having confessed to so much, it maybe some relief to the minds +of certain people if I reveal one or two other secrets, which in +comparison are trifles. Be it known, then, that it was I, Ferdinand +Lennox, who appropriated Mrs. Carlyon's jewel-case, and Mr. Booties +watch and chain, and the old Doctor's gold box, together with one or +two minor articles that I happened to find close to my hands; hands +that had acquired remarkable dexterity in the art of conveyancing. +And, really, if unthinking people will place such flagrant temptations +in the way of poor erring humanity, they are decidedly to blame; +for it serves to entice otherwise would-be innocent people into +wrong-doing. Had no thoughtless person ever put temptations before me, +even my dark plumage might have been far whiter than it is now. + +"'And now that my task is over--it has cost me some pain, if only from +the sight of my poor sister's tears that drop on her writing as she +sits by the bed--I subscribe my name for the last time in this world: +Ferdinand Lennox.'" + +It was his own signature, scrawled in a shaky hand. + +"Poor Mrs. Ducie!" exclaimed Ella. "I shall write her a nice letter." + +"So shall I," added Maria. + +"I shall write to her myself," cried the good-hearted Vicar. "If we +were all to be abandoned for the sins committed by our friends and +relatives, the world would be harder than it is." + +"To have had such a brother!--so sweet a woman as that Margaret Ducie +seemed to be, poor thing!" lamented Lady Maria Skeffington. "She quite +won my heart." + +Philip Cleeve's face flushed: Margaret Ducie had nearly won his. He +recalled what his feelings towards her had been. But last summer's +flowers were not more dead than those feelings were now. + +"Mrs. Ducie will never come back to England," he remarked aloud. + +"Never," nodded Dr. Spreckley: "we may rest pretty well assured of +that. It must have been Lennox to whom you were indebted for the loss +of your purse," he added to Mr. Kettle. + +"Ay," said the Vicar. "I remember quite well that he stood talking to +me for some little time just before the party broke up. The fellow was +so pleasant that no one on earth would have taken him for a +pickpocket. Dear me! what curious experiences we pick up in life!" + + +The discovery made of the treacherous plot enacted at Heron Dyke was +not to be proclaimed to the world: it reflected discredit on the old +Squire as much as on his subordinates, and Miss Winter was anxious to +spare his memory. But to one or two people it must necessarily be +disclosed, Ella intending to bespeak their secrecy. Mr. Daventry was +the first to hear it. + +Ella, accompanied by her aunt, proceeded to London, Mr. Daventry +travelling by the same train. Conroy had left Nullington the day +before, upon business of his own. The object of Ella's visit was to +see Mr. Charles Plackett, and inform him that she was now prepared to +yield up the property to his client at Nunham Priors. But she meant to +ask the favour of Mr. Denison, of being allowed to remain at Heron +Dyke herself for a short period longer; until, in fact, she quitted it +with Conroy for good: which she felt sure the kind old man would +accord. + +Ella had told her aunt something, but not all. She gave her to +understand that in consequence of some flaw in the title-deeds, Heron +Dyke had become the property of the other branch of the family. There +is no need to dwell on Mrs. Carlyon's perturbation of spirit when she +found that her niece was determined to give up everything of her own +free will. Of her own free will: that is how Mrs. Carlyon looked at +it. When first the news was broken to her she cried, and implored Ella +not to be so romantically foolish, so ridiculously Quixotic. "If there +is any flaw in the title-deeds it is their place to find it out, and +not yours to show it them," she reiterated. But Ella assured her that +she could not help herself; _no other choice was left her_; that in +fact the estate had been Mr. Denison's ever since her uncle's death. +It a little appeased Mrs. Carlyon; she kissed Ella, and remarked that +"what must be, must be." + +And, in the gratification of once more getting to her own home, Mrs. +Carlyon recovered her spirits. Ella was her guest that night; and the +following morning proceeded to keep the appointment already made with +Mr. Charles Plackett, Mr. Daventry meeting her there. In a very few +words Miss Winter stated her business. Recalling to Mr. Plackett's +mind their interview at Heron Dyke and what passed thereat, she went +on to state that since that time certain fresh circumstances had come +to her knowledge, in consequence of which she had decided to give up +the property to Mr. Denison. What the circumstances in question were +she declined to say, at least at present, and begged that she might +not be pressed to explain. All she wished was that Mr. Denison would +quietly accept that which she had of her own free will come to offer +him, without inquiring too curiously into the past. In short, Mr. +Charles Plackett understood that she wished to have no thought of +persecuting this person or indicting that one; there must be a +complete condonation of what might have happened in the time gone by. +During this, Mr. Daventry sat by and said nothing: he was but there to +give, as it were, legality to this avowed resolution of Miss Winter's; +in fact, to show the other side that it was not made lightly, or in +jest. + +"I perceive," nodded Mr. Charles Plackett, gazing at his brother +lawyer: "you have obtained information that you consider to be +conclusive as to my client's rightful claims, but the particulars of +which you do not wish to be inquired into?" + +"That is so," replied Miss Winter. + +"Is my esteemed friend here, if I may put the question to him, +cognisant of these particulars?" + +"Yes, I am," spoke up Mr. Daventry. "And I am prepared to testify, if +necessary, that Mr. Denison need entertain no scruple whatever as to +assuming possession of the estate. Miss Winter resigns it to him from +to-day." + +Mr. Charles Plackett looked at her earnestly. "It will be a great +sacrifice on your part, my dear young lady." + +"Yes, it will; I do not deny that," acknowledged Ella, involuntary +tears starting to her eyes. "But I have no choice in the matter: none. +All I would ask of Mr. Denison is, that he will allow me to remain in +the house for a short while longer: a very few weeks at the most." + +Mr. Charles Plackett smiled amiably. "That small request will be +granted as a matter of course, my dear Miss Winter. _I_ remember some +words spoken by my client in this very room; not long ago, either. +Though it were proved that Heron Dyke did belong to him, he said, he +would like that charming young lady to retain it." + +Ella smiled faintly, and shook her head. "That cannot be," she +answered. "But I do not feel the less indebted to Mr. Denison for the +kindness that prompted the thought." + + + + +CHAPTER XII. +MORE SURPRISES THAN ONE. + + +Miss Winter remained in London with her aunt three or four days. She +had some purchases to make preparatory to her nuptials, and +consultations to hold with her dressmaker. Neither did Mrs. Carlyon +care to quit her house again without giving a few days to it. + +On the morning preceding that on which they were to travel down to +Heron Dyke, they were surprised, not knowing he was in London, to see +Conroy. He had been somewhere in the country. + +"And my visit was a failure," he said to Ella: "the friend whom I went +to see was absent from home. I waited a day or two; but as he did not +return, I came up here.--Have you been house-hunting?" he carelessly +asked. + +"House-hunting!" she repeated. "No." + +"Seeing that Heron Dyke is to be given up, it will be necessary to fix +upon some nest or other, will it not?" he continued. + +Ella's eyelashes grew wet in a moment, and she turned away her head. A +little while, and the old home that she had known and loved all her +life would be hers no longer: how bitter the parting would be, no one +but herself could tell. + +"And there will be the furniture to select," continued Conroy, in the +same light tone; "chairs, and tables, and carpets, and fire-irons, and +a thousand other things that we can't do without: but all that I shall +leave to you." + +"I hope you won't do anything of the kind," said Ella, in some alarm. +"I should be the greatest ignoramus in the world at selecting +furniture." + +"And I should not be one whit better," lamented Conroy. "Mrs. Carlyon, +we shall have to fall back upon you. You must purchase for us." + +"Time enough for that," returned Mrs. Carlyon, rather crossly. Any +reminder of the giving up of Heron Dyke put her out at once. "You +intend to travel, you both tell me, for two or three months after your +marriage: you can come to me when you return and look out for a house +then." + +"So be it," said Conroy. + +Mrs. Carlyon and Ella returned to Heron Dyke together, Conroy +travelling to Nullington with them. Just to make sure that they got +down in safety, he observed, laughingly: on the next day, or the next +day but one, he should have to go back again. + +It was with a heavy heart that Ella entered her many-years home. Not +much longer would she be able to call it her own: indeed the feeling +of its being hers had already left her. In her heart she began to say +farewell to all the sweet familiar places that seemed now almost as if +they were a part of herself. No whisper had yet gone abroad of any +impending changes at the Hall. Neither had the servants been spoken +to. It was best to keep the matter quiet until the last moment drew +nearer. So long as she remained at the Hall, Miss Winter did not care +to become an object of commiseration, or listen to the condolences of +the neighbourhood; after she was gone people might talk as they +pleased. + +Her thoughts had other things to dwell upon beside the sweet sorrows +of farewell. Before her stretched a strange, new, unknown life--a sea +whose depths and whose shallows she had not yet fathomed--and +sometimes the prospect half affrighted her. But when she thought of +Conroy, and how her heart was safely anchored in his love, a trusting +courage came back to her. He was the pilot of her life-bark: whatever +storms might come, whatever winds might blow, so long as he was at the +helm she would not be afraid. + +On the morning but one after Miss Winter's return to Heron Dyke, Aaron +Stone was crossing the lawn in front of the Hall, when he saw an +elderly gentleman within its gates. Pacing to and fro and turning +himself about, he seemed to be examining the house from different +points of view in a manner that Aaron deemed to be the height of +impudence. Aaron had hated strangers all his life, and he made no ado +about walking up to this one and demanding by whose authority he was +in the private grounds of Heron Dyke. + +The old gentleman turned to face him. + +"Ah, you are Aaron Stone, I expect: I have heard of you before +to-day," said the stranger, as he peered at Aaron through his +eyeglass. + +"Well, I am Mr. Denison of Nunham Priors. Here is my card. Take it to +Miss Winter, and ask her whether she can oblige me with an interview." + +Aaron gave a great start at mention of the name, and shrank back a +step or two. This little pleasant-faced, inoffensive elderly gentleman +the man he had all his life been taught to hate, and whom he had +always pictured to himself as more of a demon than a man! He could +hardly believe the evidence of his eyes, and stood staring at a +respectful distance. + +"Take the card, man alive! What are you afraid of?" cried out Mr. +Denison. + +And there was so much in the impatient, commanding tone, ay, and in +the words themselves, that put Aaron in mind of the other Mr. Denison, +his late master, now dead and gone, that he took the card at once and +hobbled off with it. Mr. Denison watched him with an amused smile. +Ella was in her morning-room alone when the old servitor came in with +a face white as milk. + +"Oh, ma'am! Miss Ella! he has come at last! But don't you see him, +ma'am--don't you speak to him. The old Squire will turn in his coffin +if you do." + +"Who is here?" exclaimed Ella. "Who is it that I am not to see?" + +"He is outside on the lawn there, taking his views of the house; but +if he once gets inside, there's no knowing what may happen. Keep him +out, Miss Ella--keep him out!" + +But by this time Ella had the card between her fingers. Flinging down +her sewing, she ran out to the lawn with a glowing face of welcome. +Aaron's mouth fell. To him the end of the world seemed at hand. + +"I am so glad you are come! I am so glad to see you!" cried Ella, with +outstretched hands. + +Mr. Denison drew the blushing girl toward him and kissed her tenderly. + +"You don't know how pleased I am to see you again," he said. "What +would I not give if I had a daughter like you!" + +"How did you get here? Where did you come from?" + +"I came down from London last night, my dear, and was driven to a +country inn a mile or two away--I like your old-fashioned country +inns, they are pretty sure to be comfortable--and I walked here this +morning. I am good for a few miles' walk yet." + +"You will come in," said Ella, as she linked her arm in his. "It is +your own house now, you know." + +"That is a fact with which I shall not be able to familiarise myself +for some time to come," replied Mr. Denison. "I have not set foot +inside Heron Dyke since I was a lad of nineteen. Dear! dear! what +changes in the world, and in me too, since that time!" + +They sat down in Ella's pleasant little room overlooking the +flower-garden and the park. + +"And is this strange news, that Charles Plackett has told me, really +true?" asked Mr. Denison. + +"Quite true, dear Mr. Denison," said Ella, hiding her quivering lip. + +"I was told not to ask any questions, and I won't, although I may have +some opinions of my own in the matter, which may or may not be near +the truth. However, we will let that pass. I have been anxious to see +you ever since I heard the news from Plackett; wishful, too, to see +the old roof-tree once again--for I am as much a Denison as my cousin +was. But there were two or three interesting sales coming off in +London, and I waited for them.----And you are glad to see me, are +you!" + +"I am indeed. Can you doubt it?" + +"Well no, I can't, for your tone and your face tell it me as well as +your words. And now, my dear, what I am come to say to-day is this: +Heron Dyke must continue to be your home in time to come as it has +been in time gone by. However much I may esteem the old place, I +should not care to live here: I am too old to change my roof-tree. As +regards the revenues, we can come to some arrangement about them after +a time. You have behaved so nobly in this matter that I will see you +do not suffer, and you may safely leave your interests in my hands. +All I wish is that things should go on here as they have gone on +hitherto. You shall continue to be mistress of Heron Dyke." + +Ella shook her head. + +"It cannot be, dear Mr. Denison," she answered through her tears. + +"And why can it not be, I should like to know, if I say that it shall +be?" + +The peremptory tone was her uncle's over again, but with a quaint +geniality in it which his had lacked. Ella did not answer at first. +Her face was rosy red. + +"I am going to be married," she said in a low tone. "So it is not fit +that I should continue to be the mistress here: my husband would be +the master. And I fear he would not care that his wife should be +dependent on anyone's bounty--not even on yours, dear Mr. Denison." + +A pained look came into Mr. Denison's face. + +"Well, well; I might have had the sense to know that some young fellow +would not fail to secure such a treasure. I was foolish enough to +dream that you and my boy might perhaps in time meet and learn to like +each other, and then--but all that is at an end now. Well, well." + +Ella was gazing sadly out of the window. There was silence for a +little while. + +"I hope the husband you have chosen will take you to as good a home as +this, my dear. Is he rich?" + +"No. He has four hundred a-year certain, and----" + +"Four hundred a-year!" interrupted Mr. Denison, in a tone of contempt. +"Why I allow my scapegrace son as much as that. Tut, tut! you can't +marry a man who has but four hundred a-year." + +"And I have as much, or nearly as much," continued Ella. "Dear Mr. +Denison, we shall do very well." + +"Very well! After Heron Dyke!" Mr. Denison gave an emphatic sniff. "My +dear, I have taken a great liking to you, as much as if you were my +daughter, and I don't care to hear of this. I don't approve of it. +Four hundred a-year!" + +"Is your son come home from abroad?" inquired Ella, to change the +conversation, after a pause of silence. + +"Oh yes, he has come home, the graceless dog! Came down to eat his +Christmas dinner with me at Nunham Priors. Stayed but a day or two, +though." + +"Is he so very graceless?" + +"That's as may be. He thinks himself a model of a son for duty. +Reminded me once, when I was blowing him up, that he had never given +me a moment's care in his life. Oh, Master Frank's one that won't be +sat upon--even by me." + +"And has he never given you any care?" + +"Care, yes; plenty of it: does he not go roving off by the year +together pretty near, leaving me to my china and my things? Is that +dutiful? I don't say Frank has vexed me in other ways. He has good +parts and principles; he does not play up old Gooseberry, as some +young men do. Ah, my dear, if he and you could but have made it out +together! You would not have scrupled to stay at Heron Dyke then." + +"No, not with him," smiled Ella. "It would have been his own--so to +say. We must not think of that." + +"No use to think of it, My young gentleman gave me to understand, in +an obscure hint or two, that he had been setting up a sweetheart on +his own account; hoped to marry her sometime. When I asked who it was, +he drew in, and said no more: save that I should know all in good +time." + +"Then he would not have had me," laughed Ella. "Was it at Christmas he +told you this?" + +"No, the next time. It was another flying visit that he chose to pay +me since then. 'Why don't you see if you can't make up to that young +kinswoman of ours at Heron Dyke?' I said to him, and he had the +impertinence to laugh in my face. 'Very well, young sir,' said I, +'understand this much: that if you take up with any black foreign +woman, let her be a princess if you like, I'll not countenance your +marriage.' It was not a black princess, he assured me; so I make no +doubt it is some silly native doll." + +Ella laughed heartily at the old gentleman's genuine tone of +grievance. The next moment she blushed crimson at the sound of a +well-known step, and Conroy entered the room. + +He stood transfixed with surprise, the door-handle in his hand, as he +gazed at the stranger. Mr. Denison rose and gazed back again. + +"Sir!" exclaimed Conroy. "What brings you here?" + +"I think I may ask what brings _you_ here?" retorted the old +gentleman, while Ella looked on in wonder. "Have you no welcome for +me?" + +Conroy advanced and put his hands into Mr. Denison's, his face +lighting up with smiles. Ella turned to her lover. + +"Do you know this gentleman, Edward?" + +"Well, he ought to: he is my own son," interposed Mr. Denison before +the other could speak. "A graceless, ne'er-do-well young fellow! +always giving me surprises." + +Ella Winter stood bewildered. She thought a farce was being played for +her benefit. + +"This is the--the gentleman I told you of, sir," she said to Mr. +Denison. "His name is Conroy." + +"Indeed, my dear, it is not. His name is Denison." + +"Dear father, it is Conroy; you forget," said the young man with a +laugh. "Ella," turning to her, "my name is Francis Edward Conroy +Denison, as the church register of my baptism will testify." + +"Just you tell me the meaning of this, Master Frank. It seems that you +do know your young kinswoman, here." + +"Yes, father, and it is to her that I am engaged; she has promised to +be my wife." + +"Bless my heart!" was all that Mr. Denison could ejaculate. "Conroy? +Well, yes, I ought to have remembered that was the name you went by +when you chose to go gallivanting about the world as a newspaper +correspondent.--My dear, you are looking bewildered--and no wonder." + +"I am bewildered," returned Ella. + +Conroy turned to address her. + +"My father brought me up to no profession," he began. "He thought that +as he was a rich man there was no necessity for me to learn to work. +With all deference to him I chose to think otherwise. Idleness was +distasteful to me. Like Ulysses, I could not bear 'to rest +unburnished, not to shine in use.' I wanted to taste the sweet pride +of earning my bread by the labour of my own hands. I dropped my family +name, and went out into the world; with what result you know." + +"You made no such mighty splash after all," grunted Mr. Denison. + +"I contrived to be of some use, sir, which was the end I had in view. +And I have seen the world, and gained experience. I shall be none the +worse for it in the long-run, father." + +"And not much the better, I dare say," retorted Mr. Denison. "My dear, +can it be true that you have promised to marry this scapegrace?" + +"Yes," smiled Ella, with a blush. + +"Very good. We'll hold a jubilee. But how was it, pray Mr. Frank, that +you kept the secret from me? Is that your idea of duty?" + +"Father, I will explain to you; and to you also, at the same time," he +added to Ella. "The first time I ever saw this young lady--it was at +Mrs. Carlyon's--I fell in love with her. I resolved that she should be +my wife, good Providence permitting. Had I been what I then appeared +only to be, a correspondent for the newspapers, I might have hesitated +to cherish any such hope: knowing myself to be the probable heir of +Heron Dyke, certainly of Nunham Priors, I felt the hope was +justifiable. In a short while I followed her down here, and got +admittance to the Hall, and to Mr. Denison, under the plea of wishing +to take sketches of points on the estate: my incipient love for Miss +Winter grew into an ardent passion, and I felt assured as to the +future. Moreover I saw, or thought I saw, that Heron Dyke would never +come to her, but to you; there was that in the Squire's aspect which +convinced me he would not live to see his birthday. But now, I must +ask you, father, to acknowledge what your course would have been, had +I told you this. Should you not have hastened to open negotiations for +the alliance with your cousin the Squire?" + +"Dare say I might." + +"I am sure of it; and that would have ruined all. The Squire would +have laid his positive embargo on the marriage, for I was one of the +hated Denisons; and he would have extorted a promise from Miss Winter +never to see more of me during his life or after it. So I maintained +my incognito to her, and said nothing to you. I might have spoken +after the Squire's death, that's true enough; but I wanted her to care +for myself alone, not for my prospective fortune. I very nearly told +you at Christmas, father; but I thought I would wait just a little +longer. Last week I went down to Nunham Priors for the purpose, but +found you absent. To-morrow I intended to start for Nunham Priors +again, expecting you would by that time be at home." + +"He should take out a licence for special pleading, he should!" +interjected Mr. Denison to Ella. "To hear the neat way he twists and +turns things! Where you got your gift o' the gab from, Frank, _I_ +don't know. Not from me." + +Frank smiled. + +"It is true pleading, father. And you need no longer be under the fear +that I shall bring home a black wife." + +"There's some sense in the 'Dougal creature' yet," muttered the old +gentleman, with a flourish of his pocket-handkerchief. "Ah, my dear, +what, can I say to him, in what terms can I scold him, when he +proffers you to me as his excuse? I can only forgive him, yes, were it +a thousand times over!" He drew her to him, and kissed her very +tenderly. "You shall be as my daughter--as my own child to me in every +way. Heaven has been kinder to me than my deserts--and I am quite sure +it has to Frank! And now there will no longer be any question of your +quitting the old homestead here." + +"But it is yours, sir," answered Ella, through her tears. + +"My dear, it is Frank's from this day. I shall never quit my own home +of many years. Good gracious! how would all the bric-a-brac be packed +and moved? I'll come and see you both here as often as it suits me, +and you must come in turn to me." + +"And you will stay with me a few days now, to begin with, won't you?" +pleaded the grateful girl. "Aunt Gertrude is here, you know." + +"Won't say but I will, my dear. I should like to see a bit more of the +old family place." + +Mrs. Carlyon's surprise when she came into the room and saw the +group, and her amazement when she learnt that Edward Conroy the +despised was Frank Denison the heir, may well be left to the reader's +imagination. Aaron Stone at first refused to believe it: "it was but a +trick o' them other Denisons," he muttered, and it did not soften his +ill-feeling towards Conroy. + +Other troubles were not done with yet. That evening--after dinner--and +never had a happier party met under the old roof than was then +assembled--when the ladies went into the drawing-room, Ella was called +out of it, by her maid Adèle, to be told that the household was in a +commotion. Two of the maids, who had been despatched on some errand to +Miss Winter's sitting-room in the north wing, had come rushing down +again in a terrible fright, asserting that the ghost of Katherine Keen +had appeared to them. As a consequence, the whole of the servants were +thoroughly scared. Ella whispered the news into Frank Denison's ear +that night before he left for his quarters at the Rose and Crown: but +it would take her some time yet ere she could remember to address him +by that name. Frank made light of it to Ella, but he resolved to +resume his patient watchings; which had been interrupted of late. And +his patience was not put to much further trial. + +The following evening, Frank--as we must now call him--instead of +following his father to the drawing-room, quietly made his way to the +north wing. He saw nothing. The next night he saw nothing, heard +nothing. On the third night, as he was on the same seat in the darkest +corner of the gallery that he was sitting on once before, when he +heard those mysterious words spoken, the origin of which he had not +yet been able to fathom, he was startled by hearing a low sigh, or by +fancying he heard it, no great distance away. + +He scarcely dared to breathe. The night was bright with stars and a +young moon, and Frank's eyes, accustomed to the semi-twilight, fixed +themselves in the direction from which the sound seemed to have come. +Next moment he saw a dim figure emerge from the blackness of the +corridor beyond and advance slowly into the starlit gallery. As it +came nearer, stepping without a sound, he could see that it was robed +in black from head to foot, he could see its white face and one white +hand that clasped the robe closely round its throat. Frank Denison was +no coward; but the figure, gliding noiselessly towards him, looked so +eerie and unsubstantial by that dim light, that if his heart sank a +little it was hardly to be wondered at. If he, strong and fearless man +that he was, felt thus, what must be the effect of such an apparition +on the nerves of timid and ignorant girls? + +Nearer came the figure, and nearer. It would have passed him without +noticing that he was there; but Frank nerved himself, sprang suddenly +forward, and flinging out his arms seized the figure firmly round the +waist. It felt tangible enough, a form of flesh and blood without +doubt: he had half expected that his arms would grasp nothing but thin +air. Simultaneously with this, the silence of the north wing was +shattered by a piercing scream; and the figure fell into Frank's arms. + +That scream did not fail to make itself heard below; two minutes +later, half-a-dozen scared faces with as many lights were crowding +into the gallery. One of the first on the spot was Miss Winter. She +stooped and gently turned the face that was resting on Frank's arm to +the light. "Why this is poor Susan!" she exclaimed. "Susan Keen!" + +"Susan Keen!" repeated the wondering maids, pressing round. + +Mrs. Carlyon was up now. "It can't be Susan Keen: what should Susan +Keen do here?" she cried, full of incredulity. + +"It is Susan: no mistake about that," said Frank. "The first thing to +be done is to try and restore her to consciousness." + +The girl was carried to Miss Winter's dressing-room, and placed on the +sofa near the fire: the same sofa that Maria Kettle had lain on when +she got her fright. Susan soon revived, and they gave her some warm +wine. Shutting everybody out except Mrs. Carlyon, Ella soothed and +comforted the girl with pleasant words. Gradually the eyes lost their +frightened look, and the poor fluttering heart began to beat more +equably. Then she was gently questioned; and, little by little, +without much pressing, Susan's story was told by her own lips. + +Possessed by the belief that her sister, either alive or dead, was +hidden somewhere inside the Hall, poor Susan, as we already know, +whenever she could escape her mother's vigilance, took to wandering +about the grounds in the dusk of evening, gazing up at the windows of +the old house, more especially at her sister's bedroom window, often +fancying that she heard Katherine's voice calling her, and trying +everywhere to find some traces of the missing girl. After a time the +thought seemed to have entered her head that if she could only get +inside the Hall and search there, it would be better still. It would +appear that on two occasions during Katherine's service there, when +Susan had gone up to the Hall hoping to see her sister, Aaron Stone +had locked up for the night. Susan had then thrown some pieces of +gravel at her sister's window, in order to attract attention; upon +which Katherine had come out to her, kissed her, and bidden her to +return home. Susan, curious to know by what means her sister had been +able to leave the house after it was made safe for the night, had +persuaded Katherine to tell her. + +Among other rooms on the ground-floor at the back of the Hall, or +rather at its side, and the side not frequented, was one that was +called the wood-room, in which logs were kept to dry for winter +burning. The unglazed window of this room was protected by horizontal +iron bars; and one day, by a mere accident, Katherine saw that the +lowest bar was loose in its socket; it could be displaced and replaced +at will, and there was not the smallest difficulty in stepping through +the low aperture to the ground outside. Katherine had thought it no +harm to make use of this discovered means of egress on the one or two +occasions she had seen her poor simple sister waiting, rather than let +the girl remain there, as she might have done, for half the nights +When the loss came, poor Susan never spoke of this, lest it might +bring blame on Katherine's memory. + +But she did not forget it. And when, impelled by uncontrollable +longing to discover a clue to her sister's fate and to venture inside +the house, she sought for the window, she readily found it. She had +but to displace the bar, step in, and be within the Hall. Near the +door of the wood-room was a narrow, back staircase, hardly ever used, +which led up to the north wing, and so to the bedroom which Katherine +had occupied. + +Susan Keen might be half-witted, but she was cunning in this search. +As she had found a way of getting into the Hall, so she found a way of +getting out of her mother's house. After she was supposed to be safe +in bed, she would creep downstairs, open one of the lower windows, go +out of it, and return in the same way, Mrs. Keen being none the wiser. +She made for herself a pair of list shoes which she slipped on over +her ordinary walking shoes whenever she ventured, which was but +rarely, inside the Hall. Between the two sisters there was a strong +family likeness; both had the same long, pale, serious face, the same +large, grey eyes, and hair of the same tint--a dark brown with a gleam +of gold in it. In the dusk of evening or by the dim light of a candle +in a big room, it was quite possible that one sister should be +mistaken for the other, even by those to whom both of them were well +known. Susan it was whom the two maids, Ann and Martha, had seen +looking down upon them from the gallery; she it was who had frightened +Mrs. Carlyon and deceived Maria Kettle; it was her voice that Conroy +had heard calling for her sister as she wandered through the dark +passages of the north wing; it was she who had tried Betsy Tucker's +door the night of the storm: and it was no other than she who had +rearranged the furniture in Katherine's abandoned chamber, about which +there had been so much speculation. The supposed ghost, haunting the +north wing, had not been a ghost after all; instead of being Katherine +dead, it was Susan living. + +"But she will not come to me, though I seek for her everywhere," +wailed poor Susan, as she came to the end of her narrative and looked +piteously into the compassionate face of Miss Winter. "Oh, ma'am, +where can she be? Living or dead, she _must_ be inside these walls. I +hear her voice calling to me, but I can never find her. Where can she +be? where can she be?" + +It was a question that Miss Winter could not answer. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. +THE LAST MYSTERY SOLVED. + + +"It's not a bit of use your making any objection, my dear. I've set my +mind on it, and I mean to do it. Why should you wait till I'm dead? I +may live for a dozen years to come, and the income will be of far more +use to you now when you are setting up housekeeping than it would be +later." + +The speaker was Lady Maria Skeffington, and the person to whom she was +laying down the law in this peremptory fashion was her god-daughter, +Maria Kettle--or rather Mrs. Cleeve. Maria and Philip had moved into a +pretty little house near Homedale; they were furnishing it and +beginning life on their own account. Maria had a large apron on, and +her gown-sleeves turned up at the wrists; she was making herself as +busy as a bee this morning, with her two maid-servants, when +interrupted by her godmother. + +Lady Maria sat down on the sofa, causing Maria to sit by her side, and +began to talk. After a little gossip touching the sayings and doings +of the neighbourhood, she went on to tell Maria that she had always +intended to bequeath to her two thousand pounds at her death: but +that, as Maria was now married, and help would be useful to her and +her husband, she had decided to make over that sum to her without +delay. It was well and safely invested, and would bring in one hundred +pounds yearly, secured to Maria herself. + +Overpowered by the unexpected kindness, Maria remonstrated. It was too +much, she said: and why should Lady Maria deprive herself of this much +yearly income before her death? + +"Not another word, child, if you love me. Don't I tell you I have +already decided? After that, argument is useless--a mere waste of +breath." + +Maria knew of old that when once her godmother had made up her mind to +any particular course nothing could move her from it. In such a case +submission was the only policy. She turned and kissed her. "You are +far kinder to me than I deserve, dear Lady Maria! Philip will +scarcely know how to thank you sufficiently." + +"Philip is not so high-flown as you," rejoined her ladyship, drily. +"He knows the value of money; he would never think of refusing such a +gift." + +Maria said nothing, but she smiled to herself to hear Philip spoken of +as one who knew so well the value of money. Though, indeed, his late +experiences had perhaps taught it him. + +"And now, my dear, I want you to put on your bonnet and accompany me +to the Hall," continued Lady Maria. "My barouche is at the door, and I +am going to call there. The drive will do you good this bright, brisk +morning." + +The young wife would rather have been left to the arrangement of her +household gods; but she could not refuse her godmother, especially at +the moment when she had been so generous to her. So she made herself +ready, and they were soon bowling along the road to Heron Dyke. Lady +Maria was still full of the marvellous revelation that Edward Conroy +was Edward Denison, though some two or three weeks had elapsed since +the fact became known abroad. + +"I was talking to Dr. Downes about it yesterday, my dear. He agreed +with me that it was like one of those romances one gets out of the +library. What a good thing it is that the young man is so charming; +and indeed I think we might all have seen something in him above an +ordinary newspaper reporter." + +"It is a romance," agreed Maria, "and a very delightful one. Have you +seen Mr. Denison?" + +"I saw him when I was at the Hall the other day. A charmingly quaint +old man, who put me so much in mind of the late Squire!--And, my +dear," added Lady Maria, lowering her voice, lest the servants on the +box in front of her should hear, "what do you think Dr. Downes told +me--that the ghost which has been supposed to be haunting the north +wing has turned out to be crazy Susan Keen." + +"It is so," answered Maria. + +"The poor half-witted girl has been in the habit of creeping into the +Hall at night, to look for her sister, the Doctor tells me. The +appearances that were set down to the dead girl, the mysterious +noises, and all the rest of it, have been traced to her." + +"Susan confessed it voluntarily," remarked Maria. "It is a sad +thing--though of course it is well that it should have been +discovered." + +"Well, Maria, what I should do with the girl is this--put her into an +asylum. Dr. Downes agreed with me that many a one has been confined +for less cause: though he thinks there will be no further trouble of +this sort with her in future." + +"Never again in future," said Maria, shaking her head. "Her mother +will take right good care of her. She has had a little bed put up for +her beside her own, and does not trust her out of her sight." + +"Here we are!" cried Lady Maria, as the coachman drove into Heron +Dyke. "What a commotion the place seems in! What can be going on, I +wonder?" + +Mr. Denison found himself so comfortable under the old family +roof-tree that he let Nunham Priors take care of itself for a while, +and stayed on. Before a week had gone over his head, he was projecting +no end of improvements: this must be done, and the other must be done: +some for embellishment, some for use; and all, of course, for the +convenience and benefit of his son and daughter-in-law, who would +inhabit the place. Energetic as ever was the old Squire when once he +took a thing into his head, Mr. Denison was not content with +projecting: he set about doing. Calling Mr. Tiplady to his counsels, +and after him a clever builder of reputation, the alterations were +begun forthwith. Heron Dyke was, of course, his own, and he could do +what he would. + +The new conservatory, recently built by Miss Winter, was all very +well, but not large enough; it was to be considerably lengthened and +widened. + +"I don't like walking down a greenhouse, my dear, where the space +allowed for the paths is so narrow one's coat-tails must brush the +plants on either side," he remarked to Ella. + +The kitchens and some other portions of the domestic offices must be +rendered more commodious, in accordance with modern requirements. A +new road was to be driven through the shrubbery, and the old, narrow, +inconvenient road, rarely used, on the side of the house, blocked up +and planted over. + +On the morning that was to witness the call at the Hall of Lady +Maria Skeffington and Philip's wife, the workmen were busy with this +last-mentioned work, when Frank Denison came hastily into the room +where his father sat, talking to Ella, Mrs. Carlyon, and Mrs. Toynbee. +Frank's countenance wore a startled expression, and he looked grave +and pale. Ella's thoughts flew to the men: she feared some accident +had happened. + +"What is it?" she cried, rising from her seat. "Are any of the men +hurt?" + +"No, no, the men are all right," he answered. Then, after a pause, he +held something out to Ella. "Do you chance to know this?" he asked. +"Can you tell to whom it belonged?" + +It was a small gold locket, dented in on one side and much +discoloured, as if it had lain for some time in a damp place. Ella +recognised it with staring eyes, and began to tremble with a fear she +did not wait to define. + +"This was Katherine Keen's; it was my present to her on her birthday, +and she had it on the night she was lost. Oh, Edward, where did you +find it?" + +"I fear," he replied, "that we have found _her_." + +"Found her! Katherine?" + +Mrs. Carlyon put Ella back with her hand. + +"Sit down, my love," she said. "Frank"--turning to him--"do you say +you have found Katherine Keen?" + +"I believe so. It can be no other." + +"Dead?" + +"Oh yes, poor girl." + +"But where?" + +"In that old well just beyond the wood-room. The men have been +uncovering the well this morning, and--and--they have found some one +lying in it. She had this locket round her neck." + +Ella sat down, white and silent, and hid her face amid the +sofa-cushions. Mr. Denison caught up his stick, and hurried out. The +news had already got wind. People were running to the spot; and it was +just then that Lady Maria's carriage drove in. They had indeed found +poor Katherine Keen. + +We must trace back to the time of Katherine's disappearance. This old +well, situated not far from the door of the wood-room, had supplied +the Hall with water for more than a hundred years. But at length, for +some unknown cause, the spring had begun to fail, the water in the +well gradually becoming lower, until what was left lay so deep down +that it was not worth the labour of drawing up. After that, the old +well was left to itself for several years, the woodwork above it. +decaying and rotting slowly in summer sun and winter rain. It lay, as +has been said, on the unfrequented side of the house. + +"I'll have this altered," said the Squire one day as he chanced to +pass that way, and stood to look at it; and he at once gave orders +that the woodwork should be removed and the well filled up. + +His wishes were not long in being carried out. The old woodwork +disappeared, a quantity of earth and rubbish was collected to be shot +into the well, and a large flag-stone, big enough to cover the whole +of the orifice, was brought to the spot. The work was in progress one +February afternoon, when the snow began to come down thick and fast, +which caused the men to cease working until the morning, only a +portion of the filling-up rubbish being then shot in. + +Except the actual fact of the catastrophe itself, what else happened +on that fatal night could only be matter of conjecture. The inference +was, that Katherine, on reaching her bedroom and beginning to undress, +lifted up a corner of the blind, and, peering out, saw her sister +standing below gazing up at the window, a dark figure outlined against +a snowy background. The snow by this time had ceased to fall, and a +bright moon was struggling through the broken clouds. Katherine must +then have hurried downstairs with the intention of seeing her sister +and sending her back home. Although the house was being locked up, she +would get out easily, and unseen, by the wood-room window, replacing +the loose bar as a matter of precaution. This done, she no doubt ran +round by this unfrequented way where the well was, and fell headlong +into it, the two screams heard, one loud, the other fainter, escaping +her in the act of falling. Whether she cried out afterwards, and there +was no one to hear, or whether she fell senseless, or whether she was +killed at once, must remain matter of supposition. After that, so far +as was known, all was silence. + +Early next morning came the workmen. More snow had fallen in the +night, erasing all footprints of the previous evening, covering the +bottom of the well with a white surface. The men made sharp haste to +finish their task, knowing and suspecting nothing; and Katherine's +fate had remained undiscovered until now. + +Aaron's habitual crustiness had something to do with the nondiscovery. +Chancing to meet the men as they quitted the work before time that +evening, he sourly demanded whether the work was accomplished and the +well filled up. Afraid of him, not caring to incur his stinging +reprimands, both the men answered that it was quite finished. +Therefore Aaron never gave a thought to the well in regard to +Katherine's disappearance; and as for the Squire himself, and the rest +of the household, they did not so much as know that the work was just +then about. While the fact of its being impossible, or assumed to be, +that Katherine could by any manner of means have got out of the house, +served yet more to divert thoughts from the truth. And the two +workmen, deceived by the white surface inside, on which they had both +looked down in the morning, never, then, or later, supposed the well +could have anything to do with the girl's disappearance. + +Thus the last and longest mystery was solved. Such had been poor +Katherine's unhappy fate. Susan would never more wander in the park +after nightfall, or within the Hall to look for her; she would never +hear her sister's voice calling to her again, never fancy that the +moonlight playing upon the window of Katherine's room was her +apparition standing there. + + +The wedding was a very quiet one. Without show or parade, Ella Winter +became the wife of that erratic gentleman, Francis Edward Conroy +Denison, the indisputable heir of Heron Dyke. Old Mr. Denison insisted +upon giving the bride away; and a hamper of his choicest china arrived +from Nunham Priors to deck the breakfast-table. Lady Maria's nephew, +the young Earl of Skeffington, had asked leave to be the best man. + +Aaron stood behind his mistress's chair at breakfast; to deny him this +privilege would have broken his heart; but it was the last service he +would render at the Hall. He and his wife were about to retire to a +pretty little cottage near the Leaning Gate: Mr. Denison, at Ella's +wish, had given it to them for life, and she had furnished it. + +Frank and his bride, now Mrs. Denison, as her uncle had always wished +her name to be, started on their way to the Continent. During their +absence, which might extend to two or three months, the alterations at +Heron Dyke would be completed, and their establishment put upon a +proper footing. + + +What more is there to tell? All are left happy. The years go round, +and as yet no sorrow falls. The young Squire, as Frank Denison is now +called, is in Parliament, so that he and his wife are much in London +during the earlier portion of the year. Mr. Denison travels often from +Nunham Priors to stay at Heron Dyke, where his pleasantest days are +passed. When Ella's baby came, he was a little grumpy in his comical +way at its being a girl, instead of the boy he had expected: though he +acknowledges that it is not impossible the boy may put in an +appearance later. + +Much unity, friendship, and intimacy exist between Ella and her +husband and the Cleeves. Philip is so steady as to justify his +mother's never-changed fond opinion of him; his talents for business +and his application to it surprise even Mr. Tiplady: while his laugh +is as genial and his manners are sunny and pleasant as ever. Little +Freddy Bootle often runs down to see them, and is ever a welcome guest +at the Hall. Mrs. Carlyon comes sometimes, and the baby bears her +name, Gertrude. + +Even old Aaron is tolerably happy--for he can grumble to his heart's +content. He could not cease from doing that. Partly at Dorothy, though +she does not mind it, partly at his friends in general. He is a great +man of an evening in the sanded parlour of the Leaning Gate, or the +Fisherman's Arms. A special chair is placed for him, and he, between +the intervals of growling at the world, tells anecdotes of forty years +ago to the deferential company smoking around. + +Mrs. Keen, active as of yore, is assisted in her duties by Susan. Time +has laid its healing hand upon their sorrows. Poor Susan will never be +quite bright, and that half-dazed look is sometimes to be seen on her +face still; but no sweeter-tempered or more gentle girl is to be met +anywhere; and now that the mystery of her sister's fate no longer +weighs upon her brain, there is a sort of peacefulness and soft +serenity about her which are very attractive. Her greatest treat is to +go up to the Hall and see the baby, little Gertrude; and the nurses +avow that that youthful tyrant is never so much on her good behaviour +as when allowed to rest for a few minutes in Susan's loving arms. But +as soon as ever daylight begins to die in the woods round Heron Dyke, +when the long corridors of the old house grow dim and the wide +staircases become the homes of shadow and mystery, then does Susan +resolutely set her face homeward. She who used to haunt the Hall after +nightfall, when trying to find the ill-fated Katherine, will not go +near it except in broadest daylight. + + + + +THE END. + + + +________________________________________________________ +BILLING AND SONS, PRINTERS AND ELECTROTYPERS, GUILDFORD. + +_S. & Sons_. + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Mysteries of Heron Dyke, Volume +III (of 3), by T. W. Speight + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 57415 *** |