Red Money

by Fergus Hume

  CHAPTER XVII.

  ON THE TRAIL.

  Great was the excitement in society when it became known--through themedium of a newspaper paragraph--that Lady Agnes Pine had surrenderedtwo millions sterling to become Mrs. Noel Lambert. Some romantic peoplepraised her as a noble woman, who placed love above mere money, whileothers loudly declared her to be a superlative fool. But one and allagreed that she must have loved her cousin all the time, and thatclearly the marriage with the deceased millionaire had been forced onby Garvington, for family reasons connected with the poverty of theLamberts. It was believed that the fat little egotist had obtained hisprice for selling his sister, and that his estates had been freed fromall claims through the generosity of Pine. Of course, this was not thecase; but the fact was unknown to the general public, and Garvington wascredited with an income which he did not possess.

  The man himself was furious at having been tricked. He put it in thisway, quite oblivious to his own actions, which had brought about such aresult. He could not plead ignorance on this score, as Agnes had writtenhim a letter announcing her marriage, and plainly stating her reasonsfor giving up her late husband's fortune. She ironically advised him toseek out the person to whom the money would pass, and to see if he couldnot plunder that individual. Garvington, angry as he was, took theadvice seriously, and sought out Jarwin. But that astute individualdeclined to satisfy his curiosity, guessing what use he would make ofthe information. In due time, as the solicitor said, the name of thelucky legatee would be made public, and with this assurance Garvingtonwas obliged to be content.

  Meanwhile the happy pair--and they truly were extremely happy--heardnothing of the chatter, and were indifferent to either praise or blame.They were all in all to one another, and lived in a kind of Paradise, onthe south coast of Devonshire. On one of his sketching tours Lambert haddiscovered a picturesque old-world village, tucked away in a fold of themoorlands, and hither he brought his wife for the golden hours of thehoneymoon. They lived at the small inn and were attended to by agigantic landlady, who made them very comfortable. Mrs. "Anak," as Noelcalled her, took the young couple for poor but artistic people, sinceAgnes had dropped her title, as unsuited to her now humble position.

  "And in the Colonies," she explained to her husband, during a moorlandramble, "it would be absurd for me to be called 'my lady.' Mrs. NoelLambert is good enough for me."

  "Quite so, dear, if we ever do go to the Colonies."

  "We must, Noel, as we have so little to live on."

  "Oh, one thousand a year isn't so bad," he answered good-humoredly. "Itmay seem poverty to you, who have been used to millions, my darling; butall my life I have been hard up, and I am thankful for twenty pounds aweek."

  "You speak as though I had been wealthy all my life, Noel. But rememberthat I was as hard up as you before I married Hubert, poor soul."

  "Then, dear, you must appreciate the fact that we can never starve.Besides I hope to make a name as a painter."

  "In the Colonies?"

  "Why not? Art is to be found there as in England. Change of scene doesnot destroy any talent one may possess. But I am not so sure, darling,if it is wise to leave England--at least until we learn who murderedPine."

  "Oh, my dear, do let us leave that vexed question alone. The truth willnever become known."

  "It must become known, Agnes," said Lambert firmly. "Remember thatSilver and Chaldea practically accuse us of murdering your husband."

  "They know it is a lie, and won't proceed further," said Agneshopefully.

  "Oh, yes, they will, and Miss Greeby also."

  "Clara! Why, she is on our side."

  "Indeed she is not. Your guess that she was still in love with me turnsout to be quite correct. I received a letter from her this morning,which was forwarded from Kensington. She reproaches me with marrying youafter the trouble she took in getting the forged letter back fromSilver."

  "But you told me that she said she would help you as a friend."

  "She did so, in order--to use an expressive phrase--to pull the woolover my eyes. But she intended--and she puts her intention plainly inher letter--to help me in order to secure my gratitude, and then shecounted upon my making her my wife."

  Agnes flushed. "I might have guessed that she would act in that way.When you told me that she was helping I had a suspicion what she wasaiming at. What else does she say?"

  "Oh, all manner of things, more or less silly. She hints that I haveacted meanly in causing you to forfeit two millions, and says that noman of honor would act in such a way."

  "I see," said Mrs. Lambert coolly. "She believed that my possession ofthe money would be even a greater barrier to our coming together thanthe fact of my being married to Hubert. Well, dear, what does itmatter?"

  "A great deal, Agnes," replied Noel, wrinkling his brows. "She intendsto make mischief, and she can, with the aid of Silver, who is naturallyfurious at having lost his chance of blackmail. Then there's Chaldea--"

  "She can do nothing."

  "She can join forces with Miss Greeby and the secretary, and they willdo their best to get us into trouble. To defend ourselves we should haveto explain that Garvington wrote the letter, and then heaven only knowswhat disgrace would befall the name."

  "But you don't believe that Freddy is guilty?" asked Agnes anxiously.

  "Oh, no. Still, he wrote that letter which lured Pine to his death, andif such a mean act became known, he would be disgraced forever."

  "Freddy has such criminal instincts," said Mrs. Lambert gloomily, "thatI am quite sure he will sooner or later stand in the dock."

  "We must keep him out of it as long as we can," said Noel decisively."For that reason I intend to leave you here and go to Garvington."

  "To see Freddy?"

  "Yes, and to see Chaldea, and to call on Silver, who is living in my oldcottage. Also I wish to have a conversation with Miss Greeby. In someway, my dear, I must settle these people, or they will make trouble.Have you noticed, Agnes, what a number of gypsies seem to cross ourpath?"

  "Yes; but there are many gypsies in Devonshire."

  "No doubt, but many gypsies do not come to this retired spot as a rule,and yet they seem to swarm. Chaldea is having us watched."

  "For what reason?" Agnes opened her astonished eyes.

  "I wish to learn. Chaldea is now a queen, and evidently has sentinstructions to her kinsfolk in this county to keep an eye on us."

  Agnes ruminated for a few minutes. "I met Mother Cockleshell yesterday,"she observed; "but I thought nothing of it, as she belongs toDevonshire."

  "I believe Mother Cockleshell is on our side, dear, since she is sograteful to you for looking after her when she was sick. But Kara hasbeen hovering about, and we know that he is Chaldea's lover."

  "Then," said Mrs. Lambert, rising from the heather on which they hadseated themselves, "it will be best to face Mother Cockleshell and Karain order to learn what all this spying means."

  Lambert approved of this suggestion, and the two returned to Mrs."Anak's" abode to watch for the gypsies. But, although they saw two orthree, or even more during the next few days, they did not set eyes onthe Servian dwarf, or on Gentilla Stanley. Then--since it never rainsbut it pours--the two came together to the inn. Agnes saw them throughthe sitting-room window, and walked out boldly to confront them. Noelwas absent at the moment, so she had to conduct the examination entirelyalone.

  "Gentilla, why are you spying on me and my husband?" asked Agnesabruptly.

  The respectable woman dropped a curtsey and clutched the shoulder ofKara, who showed a disposition to run away. "I'm no spy, my angel," saidthe old creature with a cunning glint in her eyes. "It's this one whokeeps watch."

  "For what reason?"

  "Bless you, my lady--"

  "Don't call me by my title. I've dropped it."

  "Only for a time, my dear. I have read your fortune in the stars, myGorgio one, and higher you will be with money and rank than ever youhave been in past days. But not with the ch
ild's approval."

  "The child. What child?"

  "Chaldea, no less. She's raging mad, as the golden rye has made you hisromi, my sweet one, and she has set many besides Kara to overlook you."

  "So Mr. Lambert and I thought. And Chaldea's reason?"

  "She would make trouble," replied Mother Cockleshell mysteriously. "ButKara does not wish her to love the golden rye--as she still does--sincehe would have the child to himself." She turned and spoke rapidly inRomany to the small man in the faded green coat.

  Kara listened with twinkling eyes, and pulling at his heavy beard withone hand, while he held the neck of his violin with the other. WhenMother Cockleshell ceased he poured out a flood of the kalo jib withmuch gesticulation, and in a voice which boomed like a gong. Of course,Mrs. Lambert did not understand a word of his speech, and lookedinquiringly at Gentilla.

  "Kara says," translated the woman hurriedly, "that he is your friend,since he is glad you are the golden rye's romi. Ever since you leftLundra the child has set him and others to spy on you. She makesmischief, does the child in her witchly way."

  "Ask him," said Agnes, indicating the dwarf, "if he knows who murderedmy late husband?"

  Gentilla asked the question and translated the reply. "He knows nothing,but the child knows much. I go back to the wood in Hengishire, my dear,to bring about much that will astonish Chaldea--curses on her evilheart. Tell the rye to meet me at his old cottage in a week. Then thewrong will be made right," ended Mother Cockleshell, speaking quite inthe style of Meg Merrilees, and very grandiloquently. "And happinesswill be yours. By this and this I bless you, my precious lady," makingseveral mystical signs, she turned away, forcing the reluctant Kara tofollow her.

  "But, Gentilla?" Agnes hurried in pursuit.

  "No! no, my Gorgious. It is not the time. Seven days, and seven hours,and seven minutes will hear the striking of the moment. Sarishan, mydeary."

  Mother Cockleshell hobbled away with surprising alacrity, and Mrs.Lambert returned thoughtfully to the inn. Evidently the old woman knewof something which would solve the mystery, else she would scarcely haveasked Noel to meet her in Hengishire. And being an enemy to Chaldea, whohad deposed her, Agnes was quite sure that Gentilla would work herhardest to thwart the younger gypsy's plans. It flashed across her mindthat Chaldea herself might have murdered Pine. But since his death wouldhave removed the barrier between Lambert and herself, Agnes could notbelieve that Chaldea was guilty. The affair seemed to become moreinvolved every time it was looked into.

  However, Mrs. Lambert related to her husband that same evening all thathad taken place, and duly delivered the old gypsy's message. Noellistened quietly and nodded. He made up his mind to keep the appointmentin Abbot's Wood the moment he received the intelligence. "And you canstay here, Agnes," he said.

  "No, no," she pleaded. "I wish to be beside you."

  "There may be danger, my dear. Chaldea will not stick at a trifle torevenge herself, you know."

  "All the more reason that I should be with you," insisted Agnes."Besides, these wretches are plotting against me as much as against you,so it is only fair that I should be on the spot to defend myself."

  "You have a husband to defend you now, Agnes. Still, as I know you willbe anxious if I leave you in this out-of-the-way place, it will be bestfor us both to go to London. There is a telephone at Wanbury, and I cancommunicate with you at once should it be necessary."

  "Of course it will be necessary," said Mrs. Lambert with fondimpatience. "I shall worry dreadfully to think that you are in danger.I don't wish to lose you now that we are together."

  "You can depend upon my keeping out of danger, for your sake, dear,"said the young man, caressing her. "Moreover, Mother Cockleshell willlook after me should Chaldea try any of her Romany tricks. Stay in town,darling."

  "Oh, dear me, that flat is so dingy, and lonely, and disagreeable."

  "You shan't remain at the flat. There's a very pleasant hotel near HydePark where we can put up."

  "It's so expensive."

  "Never mind the expense, just now. When everything is square we canconsider economy. But I shall not be easy in my mind until poor Pine'smurderer is in custody."

  "I only hope Garvington won't be found to be an accomplice," said Agnes,with a shiver. "Bad as he is, I can't help remembering that he is mybrother."

  "And the head of the Lamberts," added her husband gravely. "You may besure that I shall try and save the name from disgrace."

  "It's a dismal ending to our honeymoon."

  "Let us look upon it as the last hedge of trouble which has to bejumped."

  Agnes laughed at this quaint way of putting things, and cheered up. Forthe next few days they did their best to enjoy to the full the goldenhours of love, and peace which remained, and then departed, to theunfeigned regret of Mrs. "Anak." But present pleasure meant futuretrouble, so the happy pair--and they were happy in spite of the loweringclouds--were forced to leave their temporary paradise in order to baffletheir enemies. Miss Greeby, Chaldea, Silver, and perhaps Garvington,were all arrayed against them, so a conflict could not possibly beavoided.

  Agnes took up her abode in the private hotel near the Park which Lamberthad referred to, and was very comfortable, although she did not enjoythat luxury with which Pine's care had formerly surrounded her. Havingseen that she had all she required, Noel took the train to Wanbury, andthence drove in a hired fly to Garvington, where he put up at thevillage inn. It was late at night when he arrived, so it might have beenexpected that few would have noted his coming. This was true, but amongthe few was Chaldea, who still camped with her tribe in Abbot's Wood.Whosoever now owned the property on mortgage, evidently did not desireto send the gypsies packing, and, of course, Garvington, not having thepower, could not do so.

  Thus it happened that while Lambert was breakfasting next morning,somewhere about ten o'clock, word was brought to him by the landladythat a gypsy wished to see him. The young man at once thought thatMother Cockleshell had called to adjust the situation, and gave ordersthat she should be admitted. He was startled and ill-pleased whenChaldea made her appearance. She looked as handsome as ever, but herface wore a sullen, vicious look, which augured ill for a peacefulinterview.

  "So you cheated me after all, rye?" was her greeting, and her eyessparkled with anger at the sight of the man she had lost.

  "Don't be a fool, girl," said Lambert, purposely rough, for herpersistence irritated him. "You know that I never loved you."

  "Am I so ugly then?" demanded the girl bitterly.

  "That remark is beside the point," said the man coldly. "And I am notgoing to discuss such things with you. But I should like to know why youset spies on me when I was in Devonshire?"

  Chaldea's eyes sparkled still more, and she taunted him. "Oh, the cleverone that you are, to know that I had you watched. Aye, and I did, myrye. From the time you left the cottage you were under the looks of mypeople."

  "Why, may I ask?"

  "Because I want revenge," cried Chaldea, stepping forward and strikingso hard a blow on the table that the dishes jumped. "You scorned me, andnow you shall pay for that scorn."

  "Don't be melodramatic, please. What can you do to harm me, I shouldlike to know, you silly creature?"

  "I can prove that you murdered my brother Hearne."

  "Oh, can you, and in what way?"

  "I have the bullet which killed him," said the gypsy, speaking very fastso as to prevent interruption. "Kara knifed it out of the tree-trunkwhich grows near the shrubbery. If I take it to the police and it fitsyour pistol, then where will you be, my precious cheat?"

  Lambert looked at her thoughtfully. If she really did possess the bullethe would be able to learn if Garvington had fired the second shot, sinceit would fit the barrel of his revolver. So far as he was concerned,when coming to live in the Abbot's Wood Cottage, he had left all hisweapons stored in London, and would be able to prove that such was thecase. He did not fear for himself, as Chaldea's malice could not hurthim in thi
s way, but he wondered if it would be wise to take her to TheManor, where Garvington was in residence, in order to test the fittingof the bullet. Finally, he decided to risk doing so, as in this way hemight be able to force the girl's hand and learn how much she reallyknew. If aware that Garvington was the culprit, she would exhibit nosurprise did the bullet fit the barrel of that gentleman's revolver. Andshould it be proved that she knew the truth, she would not dare to sayanything to the police, lest she should be brought into the matter, asan accomplice after the fact. Chaldea misunderstood his silence, whilehe was thinking in this way, and smiled mockingly with a toss of herhead.

  "Ah, the rye is afraid. His sin has come home to him," she sneered."Hai, you are at my feet now, my Gorgious one."

  "I think not," said Lambert coolly, and rose to put on his cap. "Comewith me, Chaldea. We go to The Manor."

  "And what would I do in the boro rye's ken, my precious?"

  Lambert ignored the question. "Have you the bullet with you?"

  "Avali," Chaldea nodded. "It lies in my pocket."

  "Then we shall see at The Manor if it fits the pistol."

  "Hai! you have left the shooter at the big house," said the girl,falling into the trap, and thereby proved--to Lambert at least--that shewas really in the dark as regards the true criminal.

  "Lord Garvington has a revolver of mine," said the young man evasively,although the remark was a true one, since he had presented his cousinwith a brace of revolvers some twelve months before.

  Chaldea looked at him doubtfully. "And if the bullet fits--"

  "Then you can do what you like," retorted Lambert tartly. "Come on.I can't wait here all day listening to the rubbish you talk."

  The gypsy followed him sullenly enough, being overborne by hisperemptory manner, and anxious, if possible, to bring home the crime tohim. What she could not understand, for all her cleverness, was, why heshould be so eager to condemn himself, and so went to The Manor on thelookout for treachery. Chaldea always judged other people by herself,and looked upon treachery as quite necessary on certain occasions. Hadshe guessed the kind of trap which Lambert was laying for her, it isquestionable if she would have fallen into it so easily. And Lambert,even at this late hour, could not be certain if she really regarded himas guilty, or if she was only bluffing in order to gain her ends.

  Needless to say, Garvington did not welcome his cousin enthusiasticallywhen he entered the library to find him waiting with Chaldea beside him.The fat little man rushed in like a whirlwind, and, ignoring his ownshady behavior, heaped reproaches on Lambert's head.

  "I wonder you have the cheek to come here," he raged. "You and thisbeast of a girl. I want no gypsies in my house, I can tell you. Andyou've lost me a fortune by your selfish behavior."

  "I don't think we need talk of selfishness when you are present,Garvington."

  "Why not? By marrying Agnes you have made her give up the money."

  "She wished to give it up to punish you," said Lambert rebukingly.

  "To punish me!" Garvington's gooseberry eyes nearly fell out of hishead. "And what have I done?"

  Lambert laughed and shrugged his shoulders. In the face of this denseegotism, it was impossible to argue in any way. He dismissed the subjectand got to business, as he did not wish to remain longer in Garvington'ssociety than was absolutely necessary.

  "This girl," he said abruptly, indicating Chaldea, who stood passivelyat his elbow, "has found the bullet with which Pine was shot."

  "Kara found it, my boro rye," put in the gypsy quickly, and addressingLord Garvington, who gurgled out his surprises, "in the tree-trunk."

  "Ah, yes," interrupted the other. "The elm which is near the shrubbery.Then why didn't you give the bullet to the police?"

  "Do you ask that, Garvington?" inquired Lambert meaningly, and thelittle man whirled round to answer with an expression of innocentsurprise.

  "Of course I do," he vociferated, growing purple with resentment. "Youdon't accuse me of murdering the man who was so useful to me, I hope?"

  "I shall answer that very leading question when you bring out therevolver with which you shot Pine on that night."

  "I only winged him," cried Garvington indignantly. "The second shot wasfired by some unknown person, as was proved clearly enough at theinquest."

  "All the same, I wish you to produce the revolver."

  "Why?" The host looked suspicious and even anxious.

  It was Chaldea who replied, and when doing so she fished out thebattered bullet. "To see if this fits the barrel of the pistol which thegolden rye gave you, my great one," said she significantly.

  Garvington started, his color changed and he stole a queer look at theimpassive face of his cousin. "The pistol which the golden rye gave me?"he repeated slowly and weighing the words. "Did you give me one, Noel?"

  "I gave you a couple in a case," answered Lambert without mentioning thedate of the present. "And if this bullet fits the one you used--"

  "It will prove nothing," interrupted the other hurriedly, and with arestless movement. "I fired from the doorstep, and my bullet, afterbreaking Pine's arm, must have vanished into the beyond. The shot whichkilled him was fired from the shrubbery, and, it is quite easy to guesshow it passed through him and buried itself in the tree which was in theline of fire."

  "I want to see the pistols," said Lambert insistently, and this timeChaldea looked at him, wondering why he was so anxious to condemnhimself.

  "Oh, very well," snapped Garvington, with some reluctance, and walkedtoward the door. There he paused, and evidently awaited to arrive atsome conclusion, the nature of which his cousin could not guess. "Oh,very well," he said again, and left the room.

  "He thinks that you are a fool, as I do, my Gorgious," said Chaldeascornfully. "You wish to hang yourself it seems, my rye."

  "Oh, I don't think that I shall be the one to be hanged. Tell me,Chaldea, do you really believe that I am guilty?"

  "Yes," said the girl positively. "And if you had married me I shouldhave saved you."

  Lambert laughed, but was saved the trouble of a reply by the return ofGarvington, who trotted in to lay a mahogany case on the table. Openingthis, he took out a small revolver of beautiful workmanship. Chaldea,desperately anxious to bring home the crime to Lambert, hastily snatchedthe weapon from the little man's hand and slipped the bullet into one ofthe chambers. It fitted--making allowance for its batteredcondition--precisely. She uttered a cry of triumph. "So you did shootthe Romany, my bold one," was her victorious speech.

  "Because the bullet fits the barrel of a revolver I gave to my cousinsome twelve months ago?" he inquired, smiling.

  Chaldea's face fell. "Twelve months ago!" she echoed, greatlydisappointed.

  "Yes, as Lord Garvington can swear to. So I could not have used theweapon on that night, you see."

  "I used it," admitted Garvington readily enough. "And winged Pine."

  "Exactly. But I gave you a brace of revolvers of the same make. Thebullet which would fit one--as it does--would fit the other. I see thereis only one in the case. Where is the other?"

  Garvington's color changed and he shuffled with his feet. "I lent it toSilver," he said in a low voice, and reluctantly.

  "Was it in Silver's possession on the night Pine was shot?"

  "Must have been. He borrowed it a week before because he fearedburglars."

  "Then," said Lambert coolly, and drawing a breath of relief, for thetension had been great, "the inference is obvious. Silver shot HubertPine."