CHAPTER XXIII
AN EXPLANATION
Maud uttered a squeak like that of a trapped rabbit, and clung to her cousin in a half-fainting condition. The startling accusation of the ex-policeman came upon Herries with the force of a bludgeon, and his flesh crept as he felt Maud's terrified grasp. What if she were guilty after all,--what if she had,--but the thought was too horrible. Bad as the girl was in many ways, vain, frivolous, cruel, selfish, she would never have killed the father who had loved her so greatly. As it was, she vehemently denied the accusation.
"It's a he,--a lie," she murmured, trying to keep from fainting, "oh, how dare you, how----" here nature would have her way, and Maud sank unconscious on the ground. Armour continued his vociferations, so Herries gave the insensible girl to Señora Guzman, who received her with reluctance, and caught Armour by the collar.
"Do you know what you are saying?" he demanded, shaking the man in a fierce way. "How dare you accuse this young lady of----"
"Well, if she didn't do it, who killed him?" asked the man in a sullen tone and beginning to see that he had gone too far. "It wasn't that Herries chap."
"I am Herries!"
"You." Armour shook off the grasp and recoiled against the wall.
"Yes! And you have no right to accuse my cousin. She came, as her companion, Mrs. Mountford, knew," this was a lie, but Herries wanted to save the miserable girl, "to see her old nurse."
"And went out late at night. My wife confessed it."
It was at this moment that Alice returned, followed by Mrs. Armour.
After her first cry for help the servant had thought it best to go for the wife. Fortunately there were few people about, and her feeble cry had gone unheeded. Also the tap-room was empty, a rare occurrence for the time being, so when Alice brought back Mrs. Armour, that woman ran into the room, with a white face, dreading lest her husband's tongue, loosened by liquor, should have wagged too freely.
"You drunken beast," she said, advancing with brandished arms, "how dare you insult my young lady?"
"She killed her father," grumbled Armour, but under his breath, as the stern looks of Herries and the presence of his wife cowed him not a little.
Mrs. Armour uttered an indignant exclamation and placing her hand on his coat-collar dragged him to the door.
"It is quite false, you fool."
"He says that you told him," said Herries to the wife.
Mrs. Armour pushed her husband outside and faced round.
"I told him nothing of the sort. He found out, I don't know how, that my young lady was at my house on the night of the murder, and taxed me with it. I confessed--like a fool,--that she had been there, and then he got it into his head that she set those sailors after him, to get him kidnapped. He thinks that he lost his position in the Force through her, which is quite wrong."
"Why didn't you come to the inquest and say that Miss Tedder was with you on the night?" asked Herries sternly.
"Because she asked me not to. I wouldn't have said a word even to Armour, but that he found out. Who are you, sir?"
"I am Miss Tedder's cousin----"
"Who was accused of the murder?" screeched Mrs. Armour in surprise.
"Yes, and if my cousin was here on that night,----"
"She is innocent,--innocent I swear," interrupted the woman, in great agitation, "she only came to the inn----"
"Oh. She _was_ here, was she? In the house?"
"No! Yes,--that is. I tell you, sir, she is innocent," cried Mrs. Armour at her wits' end. "She only came to see me. I'm her old nurse, sir. Don't you believe what Armour says. He's drunk; he doesn't know what mischief he is making."
"Miss Tedder was in this house on the night of the murder, about midnight."
"She wanted to see her father, and ask him not to take her lover from her," sobbed Mrs. Armour putting her apron to her eyes. "Indeed she's as innocent as the sun, sir. But I'm ready to confess----"
"Confess nothing," interrupted the young man, "if my cousin has been indiscreet--we'll put it that way,--I'll see that nothing comes of the matter. But I'll come round and see you later, to hear what you have to say. Meanwhile I'll question Miss Tedder."
"Where is she; my lamb?"
"In the parlour with a lady. She has fainted."
"Oh," Mrs. Armour was about to start towards the parlour, when Herries stopped her.
"No. Go back to your husband. Take him home, and get him sober. If he dares to say another word about Miss Tedder, I shall have him arrested."
"Yes, yes, I'll go,--I'll stop him speaking. But oh, sir," Mrs. Armour wheeled at the door with clasped hands, "believe me, my young lady is innocent."
"Yes, I believe that, but I must hear what she has to say, before exonerating her. Now go."
Mrs. Armour fled like a hare, and clutching her husband dragged him home, scolding him all the way in a low vehement tone.
"You fool, you fool," she muttered, "you'll ruin me, you'll ruin yourself."
"I didn't mean," mumbled Armour, now growing sober and terrified, for he really had scanty reason to say what he had said.
"You didn't mean,--you born fool. If this ends in a police court it will be the worse for us both. My young lady is innocent, but you have placed her in a most dangerous position. You beast, you ass, you wretch, but I'll trounce you. I'll take it out of you," and half-dragged, half-driven, Armour was brought back to his home.
In the meanwhile Herries gave Alice a shilling to hold her tongue, promising her more if she did not speak. "And especially, not to Mrs. Narby," said Herries, impressively.
"I'm fly," said the small servant, biting the shilling to see that it was a good one. "I don't tell her anything, if I can help. She hammers me too hard, sir."
"You poor little devil," said Herries pityingly, "when these things are settled we must see if we can get you a good home," and so saying he patted the miserable Alice on her head of tangled hair and walked into the parlour.
Maud had revived, as Señora Guzman had dashed water on her face with no gentle hand, and was now standing at the end of the room, looking at her with extreme aversion. Maud herself, with all the spirit knocked out of her, was seated at the table with her face hidden in her hands, weeping silently. Badly as the girl had behaved, her cousin could not help feeling sorry for her, especially, when she raised her small, pathetic, childish face. He closed the door, and came forward gravely.
"Well, Maud, and what have you to say to this accusation?"
"Nothing,--I'm sure I was very fond of poor pa," she sobbed, looking a woeful spectacle with her damp dress and tearful face. "No one was more sorry than I was when he was killed."
"You were not sorry for me," Herries could not help remarking.
"I thought you had killed pa."
"What? When you accused Señora Guzman of the crime, to my wife."
The Mexican lady started, and her fine eyes flashed. "You accused me," she said, drawing herself up.
"Yes! and I believe you did it," said Maud, raising her head and darting a malignant look at her rival.
For the moment it looked as though Donna Maria would fling herself on her enemy, but controlling her temper with a violent effort, she laughed coldly.
"Of course such an accusation does not deserve any defence."
"You were in the neighbourhood, you set those men on Armour," cried Maud viciously, and rearranging her disordered dress.
"Oh, I don't mind acknowledging that," retorted Señora Guzman with a curling lip, "I have nothing to conceal. I accompanied Captain Kyles from Pierside in the launch, and remained on board, while he went up to see Sir Simon at this inn. Captain Kyles told me that he suspected some emissary from the Republic would spy on his movements, and as he did not come back I sent up the sailors, and told them to carry away anyone who happened to be lurking about the inn at so late an hour. They saw Armour the policeman sitting under the window of Sir Simon's room, and thinking that he was waiting for Captain Kyles to descend in order to kill him,--for they took the policeman for an Indiana spy,--they muffled his head in my shawl, and carried him away, to leave him in a ditch. Then they returned to the launch which was on the river on the other side of the railway line."
Herries nodded. This was exactly the explanation which he had given Elspeth, and he was delighted to see how accurate his forecast had been. But there was another point which he wished to be cleared up.
"At what time did Captain Kyles return to the launch?"
She shrugged her fine shoulders.
"I must leave Captain Kyles to tell you his own story, Mr. Herries. All I wish to do at present, is to show Miss Tedder that I am not afraid to confess my movements on that night. It is lucky for her if she can do the same."
"I was with Mrs. Armour," said Maud quickly, yet with a passing gleam of terror.
"You were in this very house," said Herries sternly, "Mrs. Armour told me so."
"Then she was with me. She would not allow me to go alone."
"I'll ask her about that, myself," said Herries sitting down, "in the meanwhile you must confess everything you did on that night."
"I shan't," said Maud, setting her baby face in an obstinate frown.
"Then I shall tell the police."
She quivered at this and choked.
"You would tell on me, a woman, your own cousin?"
"You never hesitated to tell about me," said Herries, grimly.
"That's different--you are a man--you can defend yourself, not like poor little me. I have enemies," and she scowled at the Mexican lady in a most venomous manner.
"I am not afraid," said Señora Guzman sitting down near the door. "You would like to kill me with a look, and marry Bruce, but you will not. Oh no, he will be my husband."
"He'll be hanged."
"Aha. You will accuse him, Miss Tedder. I make you my compliments on your delicate way of making love."
"He loves me, he doesn't love you."
"Oh, but he does, Mademoiselle; you mistake. Bruce is not fond of English babies," this with a disdainful look at Maud's childish face, twisted with rage and grief.
"Ah, you cat. Wait till I see him face to face. He can't resist me. He never loved you--never, never, never."
Señora Guzman laughed again in the most irritating manner.
"You will never see him face to face. We go away, he and I, from this land of yours to South America. There we shall be happy."
Maud started to her feet.
"He shan't go, he won't go. I'll tell the police. I'll have him hanged. I'll--oh--oh--oh," she appeared to be on the verge of a fit of hysterics, when Herries, thinking this scene between the two women had gone far enough, caught her by the arms, and hurt her a trifle. The pain made her cry out, but it strung her up to overcoming the hysteria.
"You brute," said Maud, with a sob, "to strike a woman."
"I did not strike you," said Herries very patiently, "and if I have hurt you I beg your pardon. But you had better sit down quietly and tell me all you know."
"I shan't."
"Then I can't protect you from the police."
"You will tell?"
"No. On second thoughts I shall not tell, but Armour will. And if he does, what is to become of you, Maud?"
She saw her danger and made for the door as though to fly. But Herries brought her back.
"Sit down, sit down," he said soothingly. "Believe me, Maud, that badly as you have treated me, I am still your friend--your only friend."
"And you need a friend," observed Señora Guzman, surveying the girl with coldly critical eyes.
"You cat," cried Maud turning on her viciously, then dropped into a chair with a sob. "Oh, Heavens, was there ever so unfortunate a creature as I am? I've lost my money and my father, and----"
"And your lover."
"Pray be silent, Señora," said Herries, rather disgusted.
"I will not," she retorted fiercely, "why should I be silent, when she tried to take my lover from me? She knew that he was engaged to me, she knew----!"
"I didn't," sobbed Maud, interrupting swiftly.
"You did. Sir Simon asked me to his house when we came to see him on business--we--Bruce and myself. I told you that I was engaged to be married. And you,--you tried to get him away."
"And I succeeded," said Maud with dismal triumph, "he made love to me, he kissed me."
"I know that. He told me everything."
"What! He--told--you."
"Yes," snapped the Señora, "we wanted money,--heaps of money. Sir Simon knew that we didn't want war-ships, but only money for this treasure expedition. At first he would lend, then he would not. Then since you were so shameless----"
"Señora, Señora," pleaded Herries, quite helpless between these two fierce creatures quarrelling over a man.
"I must speak," she cried loudly, and striking the table with her gloved hand. "She must be told the truth, for once in her silly, vapid life. She dares to pit herself against me,--the daughter of a house which has been famous for centuries. She dares to compare her feeble, washed-out beauty with mine--with mine. Ah," she raised her arms with a proud gesture, "look at me, look at you. I tell you, Bruce would lay down his life for me."
"He shall, on the gallows," panted Maud viciously.
"Pah, you little fool," sneered the Mexican woman with scorn, "you have been a catspaw to get the money. I told Bruce to make love to you, to lead you on, to twist you round his little finger, and all to get the money. Was I wrong, seeing how shamelessly you tried to steal my lover? No," she answered herself, "I was right. Bruce told Sir Simon that he would take you away. Sir Simon forbade you to think of Bruce. You persisted, and then he said he would cut you out of his will. He wrote a letter to Brace telling him that he had done so, and asked him to meet him at this inn, offering to bribe him to give you up. You," said Señora Guzman with an insulting laugh, "you, for whom Bruce cared nothing. Bruce said that he would take two thousand pounds more or less. He hinted as much to Sir Simon, and he came here with that amount of money. Then Sir Simon was murdered----"
"By Captain Kyles," cried Maud.
"It is a lie," said the woman striking the table again. "Had he killed him he would have had the money and have sailed away. But he did not kill him, and so lost the money."
"But I saw Captain Kyles at this inn," said Maud.
"He was here. I told you so, but how came you to see him?"
"I was taking a walk before going to bed. Mrs. Armour was with me. I saw Captain Kyles under the window, where the red light shone."
"The red light," said Herries involuntarily.
"Yes I There was a red light in the front room. The window was open and Captain Kyles was looking up."
"I understand," said Herries gravely. "Sir Simon hung a red handkerchief in front of a candle to serve as a signal. Well?"
"Then I wanted to go up and see my father. Bruce had told me that papa wanted to bribe him to give me up, and that he was going to meet him at the inn. That was why I came. I came by a late train and went to Mrs. Armour, who is my old nurse. I implored her to help me, since she knew Mrs. Narby. I wanted to get into the house and throw myself at my father's feet and implore him not to send Bruce away. Mrs. Armour came, and when we saw Captain Kyles under the window, we stole round in the fog to the back door. Mrs. Armour knocked at Mrs. Narby's bedroom window at the back in a peculiar way, and Mrs. Narby came to the back door. She would not let me in at first, but I offered her twenty pounds, which I had brought with me. Then I went into the house, and up the stairs in the darkness. I saw a gleam of light under the door of the furthest room, and then I heard deep breathing. I grew afraid, and ran down the stairs again. I believe there was a man in the nearer room, which was in darkness."
"That was Gowrie," said Herries, "he heard the swish of a woman's dress. So it was you. And you saw nothing?"
"Nothing. I ran out and asked Mrs. Armour to take me back, and hold her tongue. I slept that night at her house, as her husband was away, and then went home by an early train. Mrs. Mountford let me into my home, and no one knew that I had been away."
"And when you heard that your father had been murdered?"
"I thought Captain Kyles had lost his temper and had killed him."
"Oh. Then you did not believe that it was me, after all."
"No. I never knew that you were in the house. But when I heard that you had been arrested, I thought, in any case, that you would be hanged, and so joined in the cry against you. I wanted to save Bruce," wailed Maud.
"I see," said Herries, horrified at this callous girl, "so you were willing to hang an innocent man, and marry one whom you thought had murdered your father."
"Bruce did _not_ murder Sir Simon," put in Señora Guzman vehemently, "it is not true. I came here, Mr. Herries, to explain all I could, and to ask you to come on board the yacht which is at Tarhaven."
"Will I see Captain Kyles?"
"Yes. He wishes to see you about the money."
"Why should I pay the money?"
"You said you would," said Señora Guzman vehemently, "and you will have to do so if you wish to get the fortune."
An evil light suddenly shone in Maud's eyes, as though the devil had whispered some delicious thought.
"Let me come also," she said eagerly to Señora Guzman.
"No. We do not want you."
"Then I shall go straight back to Tarhaven and tell the police all about myself, and Captain Kyles."
"You are afraid."
"I am not, but," Maud looked cunning and snarled, "I am desperate."
"You shan't come----"
"She shall," said Herries in a peremptory manner. "I want everyone to be present at the clearing up of this affair. Not a word, Señora, Miss Tedder comes with me, or I don't set foot on the yacht."
Señora Guzman shrugged her shoulders.
"Very good," she said insolently, "Bring her if you like. But I have said all, so I will go."
"When shall I come to the yacht?"
"Captain Kyles will let you know," and she vanished.
CHAPTER XXIV
STARTLING NEWS
Herries brought Maud back to the "Moated Hall," and delivered her into the hands of Mrs. Mountford. The girl recovered herself wonderfully on the journey, but said very little. All the time in the train she sat huddled in her corner of the compartment, and eyed Angus in a most spiteful manner. Her cousin saw the look and wondered what was in her mind. Had he known he might not have pitied her as he did. As it was, he felt truly sorry for the miserable girl. By her own foolishness, she had forfeited a fortune, she had been deserted by the man whom she had striven to take from another woman, and had lost her father by a violent death. Had not Maud troubled her head over the buccaneer's good looks, her father would never have made a second will; he would never have gone to the "Marsh Inn" to meet his death. For all the terrible things that had happened, Maud had only herself to blame. Yet she talked of Fate, and bemoaned herself as the most unfortunate creature in the world. Many people cheat themselves in the same way.
However, Mrs. Mountford saw that she was really getting ill and that her nerves were in a terribly excited state. She, therefore, sent her at once to bed when Herries brought her back, and remained alone in the drawing-room with the young man.
"I know that Maud went to the 'Marsh Inn' in response to an invitation from Señora Guzman," she said gravely, "but I did not expect that you would bring her back, Mr. Herries."
"I was there also," he replied, quietly, "I went to meet Mr. Gowrie and found Señora Guzman instead. Maud got into trouble."
"With that woman?"
"With Armour, the policeman, who said that Maud had been at Desleigh on the night her father was murdered."
Mrs. Mountford turned pale.
"Surely you do not believe that wild statement, Mr. Herries?"
"I have such good authority, Mrs. Mountford, that I must."
"Whose authority?"
"That of Maud herself."
"Unhappy girl. What has she said?"
"I think you know what she said, Mrs. Mountford, since you also knew that Maud stopped with Mrs. Armour on that night."
"Mrs. Armour is Maud's old nurse," said the ex-governess with emotion, "and Maud went to visit her without my permission."
"Maud said that you helped her."
"No. That is not true. I would not have let Maud out of my sight to pay such a visit, and at so late an hour. She certainly told me that Sir Simon was to meet Captain Kyles at the 'Marsh Inn,' and then bribe him to give her up. She wanted to go to Desleigh and implore her father not to act in this way. I said that she was not to go, but she slipped out of the house and went. I could do nothing save watch for her return and admit her secretly, lest the servants should come to know of her mad visit."
"What did she tell you when she returned?" asked Herries, curiously.
"That she had stopped all night with Mrs. Armour."
"She did not inform you that she had been inside the 'Marsh Inn?'"
"No." Mrs. Mountford closed her eyes in horror, "Impossible!"
"It is true. Maud went there to see her father."
"Mr. Herries," Mrs. Mountford rose and grasped the young man's arm, "I cannot believe that Maud has anything to do with this crime."
"Why should you believe it?" said Herries, astonished at the emotion displayed in her usually solemn face.
"Tell me what you know, and I'll explain."
Herries hesitated, but reflecting that Mrs. Mountford could do no harm, and that it was better to have her for a friend than an enemy at this juncture, he told all that had taken place at the inn, as he had heard it from Maud herself. At the conclusion Mrs. Mountford drew a long breath of relief.
"It is better than I expected," she said, nodding, "I must tell you, Mr. Herries, to explain for the way in which Maud has acted, that she is not quite right in the head."
"Mad!" was the young man's startled exclamation.
"Not exactly mad. She has no moral principles, and if she does not get her own way, will not hesitate even at a crime to get it. Her mother, a frivolous, foolish woman, who came of a decayed family, was the same. Maud at times is not responsible for her actions. Sir Simon was devoted to her, and therefore, after Maud's education was finished, he kept me here, to look after her."
"I noticed that you had great power over Maud."
"The power of a strong mind over a weak one," said Mrs. Mountford in her deep voice, "yet at times Maud is too difficult and cunning even for me to manage. You know how she escaped and went to Desleigh. I dreaded lest she should meet her father, for then----" Mrs. Mountford hesitated.
"Would she have murdered him?"
"Not deliberately. But she would have fallen into a frenzy of rage and the first weapon to hand would have been used by her. In these rages, she goes, what the Norsemen called baresark, and stops at nothing to gain her ends. She loves this Captain Kyles so much that she would do anything to become his wife. You know that she was quite ready to sacrifice you, Mr. Herries."
"And Señora Guzman also," said the young man, rather startled at what he had heard, "since she accuses her wrongfully."
Mrs. Mountford looked gravely at him.
"I believe that Captain Kyles killed Sir Simon," she said decisively, "and Señora Guzman may not be so innocent as you imagine. The Captain was certainly at the 'Marsh Inn' on that night, since you say Maud saw him looking up at the window wherein Sir Simon had placed his signal. Also Señora Guzman was in the neighbourhood and had that policeman kidnapped."
"All these things look suspicious," assented Herries, "yet, since Kyles was willing to give up Maud, for whom he had no affection, and since Sir Simon was willing to pay the price, I do not see the motive for the commission of the crime."
"It is strange. What does Captain Kyles say himself?"
"I have not seen him yet. To-morrow, however, I am going on board the 'Tarabacca,' which lies off Tarhaven quay, out-stream, I believe. Then Kyles will explain. And Maud is to come with me."
Mrs. Mountford started to her feet.
"Impossible. If she meets Captain Kyles face to face, I don't know what would happen."
"I'll look after her," said Herries, who was determined that Maud should be brought face to face with her lover, so that everything should be cleared up in a proper manner. "I must know the truth, as I want to enter into possession of my property. Kyles evidently can tell me who killed my uncle, and I am going to see Ritson, as to getting four thousand pounds to bribe him into speaking the truth."
"He deserves no money after the way in which he has treated Maud."
"I quite agree with you," responded Herries dryly, "but beggars cannot be choosers. Apparently Kyles is the only man who can solve the mystery, so he must be paid."
"He will have to acknowledge himself guilty then," said Mrs. Mountford obstinately, "in which case he should be arrested."
"Certainly. And I may tell you that I intend to give information to Inspector Trent as to my engagement to see Kyles on board the yacht. He will come later in the evening, for I believe that the explanation will be given to-morrow night. If Kyles is guilty he will be arrested. But he won't confess unless he gets the money, so I must enlist the services of Ritson to procure it, and take it on board. I can get it back if your surmise is correct."
"Well," said Mrs. Mountford coldly, "I presume that will be the best way to settle the matter. And Mr. Herries," she added, giving him her hand, "I may tell you that I am glad you have got the money. Were Maud in possession, I would lose my influence over her, and then God knows what would happen to so feather-headed a creature. She would be surrounded by flatterers and sycophants, and would waste the money in excesses, ending probably in an insane asylum."
"But she is not mad."
"I tell you she is at times," said Mrs. Mountford impatiently. "The germs of insanity are in her, and it only needs great emotions to develop them into rank lunacy. See what she was prepared to do, in order to get Captain Kyles for a husband. She is not safe, she never will be safe; and Sir Simon did not want her to marry. No, Mr. Herries, you get this money and make good use of it. Maud and myself will go abroad and live on her thousand a year."
"You must let me add to that," said Herries shaking her hand in a hearty manner. "I believe that you are a good woman."
"I have had great troubles," said Mrs. Mountford, "and troubles make us think of others. When you are in possession of that large income, Mr. Herries, don't forget the poor and needy. Let your troubles aid you to remember the troubles of others."
"You can depend upon that," said Herries, and took his leave feeling a profound respect for Mrs. Mountford.
He was not so surprised as he might have been, on hearing of Maud's weakness. Several times, when he was courting her in Edinburgh, he had noticed how strange her manner was, and how careless she seemed to be of other people's feelings. But then he was blinded with what he took for love, and had not seen clearly. Now he could judge dispassionately, and felt certain,--apart from any personal benefit,--that the best thing that could have happened to Maud was the loss of the money. To weight so frail and fickle a creature with gold would have been to sink her in the ocean of life. He determined to allow Mrs. Mountford another thousand a year, for looking after her, and then the ex-governess could take the poor girl away to some lonely place, where she could quietly live out the rest of her life. In his own mind, Herries, with a sudden memory of a striking book, compared her to Lady Audley, and recalled how that celebrated heroine had been placed in seclusion as dangerous. Maud was just such another childish, pretty, cunning, dangerous woman, as that conceived by Miss Braddon.
Having made up his mind how to act towards his unfortunate cousin, Herries returned home, and told Browne and Elspeth all that had occurred. Both of them were much astonished, and were divided as to who was guilty of the crime. Elspeth fancied that Señora Guzman was guilty. Browne held that Kyles was the criminal. Herries shook his head.
"There's been so many mistakes over this case," he said, "that I am afraid to give an opinion. It might have been Mrs. Narby, for all we know."
"Mrs. Narby," ejaculated Elspeth, with a gasp. "Mrs. Narby," echoed the doctor, his face growing redder than ever.
Herries shrugged his shoulders.
"She looks the kind of woman who would kill anyone, especially for money."
"My father knows Mrs. Narby better than anyone else," said Elspeth.
"I should think you knew her well enough, my dear."
"The worst side of her, perhaps."
"Has she any better side? If so, I should be glad to know it. But I wish I knew where your father is at present. Señora Guzman is aware of his hiding-place, but she won't tell."
"Why is he hiding?" asked Browne, very directly. "Really, I don't know. He can't be in any trouble, or he would have said so in his letter."
"The letter that was posted at Tarhaven," said Elspeth, who had risen from the table, and was thinking deeply. "Angus, I should not be surprised to learn that my father was on board the yacht."
"By Jove, it's very probable, Elspeth. Kyles was ashore this morning according to Sweetlips, so Gowrie probably gave him the letter to post. That was why it did not bear the Desleigh post mark. But why should he have boarded the yacht."
No one could answer this very pertinent question, but Browne ventured an explanation.
"I believe that all this is a conspiracy to get that four thousand pounds. I wouldn't pay Kyles a cent, Herries."
"Then how am I to clear up the mystery of the murder, and get the money, Browne? I must make some move, as I can't live here on you all the days of my life. Four thousand pounds is worth paying, if by Kyles' information I can get fifty thousand a year."
"Quite so, but if Kyles is guilty he won't accuse himself."
"Why not? He won't see me ashore, but on the yacht. He can say what he likes and then steam away with the money."
"And you will let him," said Elspeth, indignantly.
"No!" said her husband, putting on his hat, "I'll see Trent to-morrow, and inform him of the proposed meeting. After I get the truth,--whatever it may be,--out of Kyles, Trent can come on board and arrest the guilty person."
"Señora Guzman!" said Elspeth.
"Captain Kyles," ventured Browne, but not very eagerly.
"It may be one or the other, or neither," retorted Herries, "meanwhile I'm off."
"To see Inspector Trent?" said Elspeth accompanying him to the door.
"No. I won't see him until I have a note saying what time I am to go on board the yacht. I must interview Ritson about the money."
This Herries did, after he had thought well over the position of affairs, which was decidedly perplexing. Ritson gasped when he heard all that Herries knew, and appeared to take the same view as Browne had done.
"I believe that Kyles is guilty," he said, in a profoundly certain tone, "and that being the case, why pay him four thousand pounds?"
"He won't confess anything until he gets the money," insisted the client, "and if he is guilty Trent can arrest him. Then we can get the money back. But will you advance me the cash, Ritson?"
"Yes," said the lawyer without the slightest hesitation. "You have a good enough security."
"Be careful, Ritson," warned Herries gravely, "I am not yet in possession of the fifty thousand a year, and unless I learn the absolute truth, I never may be."
"You'll learn the truth sooner or later. At all events, to get to the bottom of the thing, I'm willing to risk four thousand on the matter. It's a sprat to catch a mackerel. But you must make it worth my while, risking this much, Herries."
"Naturally," said the other, "I never expected you to oblige me without asking a percentage. What do you want?"
"I must think it over," said Ritson, rubbing his hands, "but you won't find me too expensive. I wish to keep you as a client."
"That you certainly will," said Herries, "as you have been most kind during all these troubles. Good-bye. I'll see you to-morrow. Make your arrangements and have the money,--in gold of course."
"Humph. Rather a large sum in gold. Better take a cheque."
"My dear man, _I_ don't take the money. Kyles won't be satisfied with a cheque which may be stopped."
"Bank notes then?"
"Same objection applies. Kyles is a wary man, and will accept nothing but gold."
"Well," sighed Ritson, "we must see what we can do. By the way, are you certain that Kyles is guilty?"
"I am not, but you are."
"I'm changing my mind, since you tell me that your father-in-law is on board the yacht."
"I only think that he is on board."
"Then if he is perhaps he has fled."
"Fled?" Herries, somewhat startled, returned from the door.
"To escape justice. I shouldn't wonder," added Ritson playing with a pen, "to learn that Gowrie was the guilty person."
Herries turned red and hot at the thought of the disgrace to his wife.
"All the more reason that we should see Kyles on the yacht and pay him the four thousand. He can take Gowrie to South America. This puts a different complexion on the matter, Ritson. I shan't tell Trent to come on board now."
Herries, having thus made up his mind, went away. But Ritson determined, when he learned the hour of the meeting with Kyles, to tell the Inspector. The lawyer knew that if Gowrie was guilty the truth would have to be made public in order that Herries should get the fortune, and, as he intended to make a good bargain for the loan of the four thousand, he did not intend to let any sentimental business spoil his chance of getting back the money and interest. If Gowrie was guilty, he would be arrested by Trent and taken ashore; Mr. and Mrs. Herries would just have to put up with the disgrace. "Fifty thousand a year is worth a trifle of mud," thought Ritson.
Meanwhile Herries, quite unaware of Ritson's proposed treachery, passed a very bad night. From the flight, as he thought it was, of Gowrie, he really began to believe that the old scamp was the guilty person after all. Since he had condescended to robbery for a few shillings, he probably would not mind throat-cutting for so large a sum as two thousand pounds. Angus did not tell Elspeth his idea of the old man's guilt, and although she saw that he had something on his mind, she could not learn what it was. That her father might have done the horrible deed, never entered her mind.
All the next day Herries waited to hear from Kyles. He soon found out that the "Tarabacca" was anchored some distance away from the shore,--about a quarter of a mile, in fact, and went down to the end of the pier to look at her through a glass. She seemed a very pretty little craft of the piratical order. Herries was half minded to take a boat and board her, but on second thoughts he determined not to be so rash. While he was watching he saw a launch put off, and saw also that there was a lady in it. Thinking that this was Señora Guzman, he waited, and waved his hand. As the boat drew near the pier she recognised him, and made the sailors row longside. Herries went down the steps, and she gave him a letter.
"I can't stop to talk, Mr. Herries," she said quickly, fearing apparently to be asked unnecessary questions. "Read the letter."
While the launch steamed back to the yacht, Herries read the note and found that he was expected on board that night at eight o'clock. At once he returned to the town, and seeing Ritson, arranged about the money, which the lawyer was expecting from town by the five o'clock train. Then Herries gave the time and place for the meeting and went home again, to await the hour. Ritson put on his hat, and repaired to the station. There he remained until the money came to hand in charge of a Bank of England messenger, and he saw that it was taken to his office. After that the lawyer went to see Trent at the police station, and arrange about the arrest of Michael Gowrie.
He found Trent in a great state of agitation with a long telegram in his hand. He fairly rushed at the lawyer.
"I am glad to see you," said he. "You were Sir Simon's solicitor, so you have the right to know first."
"Know what?"
"That a man presented one of the missing notes. Before he could be arrested he slipped away, and the police are hunting for him. He was,--he was," said the Inspector solemnly, "Pope Narby."
CHAPTER XXV
THE CAPTAIN'S STORY
At half-past seven o'clock that same evening Herries was on the fisherman's jetty situated in the lower parts of Tarhaven, and with him was his cousin. Both were well wrapped up, as the night was bitterly cold. However, the atmosphere was clear, and there shone a wintry-looking moon, the light of which was occasionally obscured by drifting clouds. Maud looked over the grey choppy sea to an emerald star, which indicated the position of the "Tarabacca," and shuddered at the idea of venturing out on such an evening. Timid as a rule, only her love for Kyles made her resolve to board the ship. Also she had another idea in her head, and as she thought of it again, she stole a glance at her cousin, which was forebodingly forbidding.
But Herries was looking up towards the town, and wondering why Ritson did not come. The lawyer had insisted upon sharing the adventure, and on taking charge of the gold.
But the watched pot boiled on this occasion, and very soon a cab drove down to the top of the jetty, and Ritson came along, well-muffled up in a fur coat, followed by two men carrying a wooden box, which they placed in the waiting boat by his directions. Then Herries got in, after handing Maud to a seat, and the oarsmen,--there were two, dipped their oars into the gleaming water.
"Got it there?" asked Angus, nodding towards the wooden box, as they swept clear of the jetty.
"The lead. Yes!" said Ritson with a frown. "You mean the leaden seals, don't you?"
"Certainly," replied Herries, seeing that Ritson did not wish either the boatmen or Maud to learn the real contents of the wooden box.
"They are very heavy--those seals," continued Ritson with emphasis.
"What seals?" asked Miss Tedder, glancing at the box.
"Official seals connected with the Indiana Republic," answered the solicitor promptly. "Captain Kyles is taking them out."
"But I thought that he was not allowed to enter the Republican territory again?"
"Oh, he's made all that square. He and Señora Guzman are steaming back to Indiana to-morrow," replied Ritson, lying frankly.
"I'll go too," muttered Maud, "that is, if----" she huddled her wraps about her and stole a vicious glance at Herries, which passed unnoticed in the darkness.
There was not much conversation. Herries was anxiously wondering if Gowrie would be accused of committing the crime, and was congratulating himself that he had not informed Inspector Trent about the meeting on the yacht. He would scarcely have been so easy in his mind, had he known that Ritson had arranged with Trent that the police should board the "Tarabacca" between nine and ten o'clock, when the truth had been told, as it was probable it would be by that time. Ritson, on his side, was debating if he would inform Herries that Pope Narby had tried to pass one of the notes for which Sir Simon had been murdered. The lawyer had no doubt in his own mind but that Pope was the culprit, and privately considered himself a fool, for taking four thousand pounds in gold on board the yacht to pay Kyles for information already received. In fact, he had intended to stop away, but Trent had advised him to go, and to hear what Kyles would say. Then, even if the money were paid, it could be recovered again by the police, when they paid the proposed visit. Kyles did not expect that the law would board his nefarious craft on that night, and within a couple of hours.
As for Maud, she kept glancing every now and then at her cousin and hugging her secret to her breast. She had conceived an idea, by which she hoped to get back her fortune and thus secure Kyles. "If I could only get him away from that woman," thought Maud, "I would be quite happy. And when I have the money----" she glanced again at Herries, and laughed softly.
"What is amusing you, Maud?" he asked, rather uneasy at mirth so obviously out of place.
"Only my own thoughts," she muttered. "Shall we soon be there?"
Herries nodded. The yacht was only a stone throw away. As he looked, the long black form of the launch shot out from behind the ship, and steamed at full speed up the Thames, in the direction--as it seemed to Herries,--of the waterway which led to the "Marsh Inn."
"That boat can go," he said, wondering what was up.
"Ah, sir, she just can," said one of the boatmen, as the launch sped along scattering the white foam from her sides to glisten in the pale moonlight. "She's been dodging about these waters for the last month or so, racing between Tarhaven and Pierside. She can show a clean pair of heels, like the yacht herself."
"Is she quick?"
The boatman chuckled.
"I should just think so. A mate of mine met one of the engineers, a Scotch chap, and he said that she could steam hell for leather, begging the lady's pardon."
Herries winced. Kyles was extremely unscrupulous, and in a boat of great speed, might not hesitate to keep him a prisoner until much more than four thousand was paid over. He had only to get up steam and slip away in the darkness for South America, and it would be difficult to catch him. However, the adventure was begun and had to be finished, and Herries, believing that his luck had changed with marriage, hoped for the best.
Shortly the boat was longside the yacht, swinging up and down on the tide. Kyles was expecting them, and a rope ladder was lowered. Up this swarmed Herries who was well used to the sea. Ritson came next, but was in a state of terror the whole time owing to the swaying of the rope ladder. Lastly, the boatmen assisted Maud up the steep black side of the yacht. Kyles, who had made no observation when the two men ascended, uttered an exclamation when he saw a woman appear.
"Have you brought your wife, Herries?" he asked, much vexed.
"It's my cousin."
"Your cousin!" said Kyles in tones of dismay.
By this time Maud had scrambled on deck, and was holding out her hand.
"Good evening, Captain Kyles," she said ceremoniously, "you have been quite a stranger of late."
"Why--why do you come--come here?" stammered the Captain who was considerably taken aback.
Maud laughed in an amused manner.
"To say good-bye," said she, carelessly.
"Humph! I believe that," he retorted and she could hear him grit his teeth at her unwelcome presence. At that ominous sound, the girl, who, unfortunately for herself, really did love him, turned pale, and laid her hand on her heart, as though she there felt a cruel pain, as no doubt she did. Kyles stared at her frowning and then turned away with a grunt of satisfaction as a wooden box was hoisted on board by the two boatmen and a couple of his own sailors.
"You've got it," he said, in a thankful tone.
Herries nodded.
"And this is my solicitor, Mr. Ritson, who advanced the cash and has come to see it paid over,--on conditions," added the young man significantly.
"Oh, I'll keep my word," said Kyles, looking over the side, "you two men below can remain where you are!" Then he turned to three truculent-looking sailors, "Don't let them come on board. You know what to do when the launch returns."
After giving his orders, he asked the company to come below, and two sailors carried the box between them down the brass-bound steps which led to the state-room. Herries was surprised at the splendour of the cabin, but still more surprised when he saw, seated at the head of the long table, a well-known figure sipping whisky and smoking vigorously.
"Aye!" said the voice of the missing sage, "it's me, ma ain sel, Angus, taken awa frae a useful existence tae herd wi' tarry men, the which ca' themsels sailors, but who are nae mair nor the scum o' the arth. But I'll hae an action for false detention if there's law to be had, and I chairge you, laddie, tae pay ma fees."
"How the deuce did you come here?" asked Herries, recovering from his astonishment.
"I kidnapped him," said Kyles casting down his gold-laced cap, and throwing off his oilskin. "Sit down, Miss Tedder."
"Miss Tedder," echoed Maud in tones of reproach. Kyles flushed all over his bronzed face, and gave her an angry look, striving meanwhile to remain calm. "We can speak, after we have transacted this business," he said.
"Call me Maud, then."
"Maud," said the Captain in ironical tones.
"And what is Maud doing here?" asked another voice--a woman's, cold and cutting as an east wind.
Maud recognised her rival with a snarl like that of an angry cat, and looked defiantly at her. Señora Guzman, in a richly trimmed dinner dress, which well became her beauty, was standing at the door of her berth, and her face grew pale with wrath, as she gazed at the insolent baby face of Miss Tedder.
"You have no right here," said the Mexican lady, "this is my ship."
"Captain Kyles' ship," taunted Maud.
"He is the skipper, and my servant. How dare you thrust yourself here uninvited?"
"I brought her, Señora," said Herries, firmly, "and it will be as well to postpone any conversation you may wish to have, until we have despatched the business we have come about."
The two women glared at one another, and all the men,--even the philosophic Gowrie,--felt uneasy at their attitude.
"Dods," he growled, "an' they ca' yon the weaker sex. It's weel that the late Mistress Gowrie is unnergrund, for never again wull I trust my ain precious sel' tae sic jades as they."
"After the business is ended we can speak," said Señora Guzman, and sat down disdainfully.
"I'll be only too glad," snapped Maud likewise sinking down. "You're not going to have it all your own way, madam," and after a mutual scowl, both fixed their jealous eyes on Kyles, who, for a brave man, looked decidedly nervous. He was about to relieve the situation by addressing himself to the business in hand, when the silence was broken by an exclamation from Herries. The young man had mechanically picked up a telegram which was lying on the table, and without thinking had read the same. Its contents astonished him not a little.
"I beg your pardon, Kyles," he stammered, still holding the telegram with an expression of amazement on his face. "I read this inadvertently. It is from Kind, to you."
"Quite so," answered the Captain smoothly, "and you will see that Pope Narby presented one of the notes stolen from Sir Simon at a shop, and was given in charge. Also that he escaped, and that Kind believed he fled at once with his mother to the 'Marsh Inn.' It takes a lengthy wire to explain all that, Herries, but I told Kind not to spare expense."
"Was this why Kind went up to town?"
"Yes. He met me yesterday ashore, and I gave him my instructions."
"Oh," cried the young man, wonderfully surprised, "and do you mean to say that Kind obeyed them?" Kyles pointed to the telegram. "That proves it." Ritson picked up the wire and looked at the time. "You got this before the news came to Trent," he said sharply.
"Oh," remarked the Captain smiling, "so the police have been informed already. I told Kind to let them know in London, guessing that the news would be at once forwarded to Tarhaven. My only regret is that Pope Narby should have escaped. But we can't foresee everything."
"Aye," remarked Gowrie waving his pipe, "what says glorious Robbie?