by Fergus Hume
CHAPTER XX.
THE DESTINED END.
As might have been anticipated, Lord Garvington was in anything but ahappy frame of mind. He left Silver in almost a fainting condition, andreturned to The Manor feeling very sick himself. The two cowardly littlemen had not the necessary pluck of conspirators, and now that thereseemed to be a very good chance that their nefarious doings would bemade public they were both in deadly fear of the consequences. Silverwas in the worst plight, since he was well aware that the law wouldconsider him to be an accessory after the fact, and that, although hisneck was not in danger, his liberty assuredly was. He was so stunned bythe storm which had broken so unexpectedly over his head, that he hadnot even the sense to run away. All manly grit--what he possessed ofit--had been knocked out of him, and he could only whimper over the firewhile waiting for Lambert to act.
Garvington was not quite so downhearted, as he knew that his cousin wasanxious to consider the fair fame of the family. Thinking thus, he felta trifle reassured, for the forged letter could not be made publicwithout a slur being cast on the name. Then, again, Garvington knew thathe was innocent of designing Pine's death, and that, even if Lambert didinform the police, he could not be arrested. It is only just to say thathad the little man known of Miss Greeby's intention to murder themillionaire, he would never have written the letter which lured the manto his doom. And for two reasons: in the first place he was too cowardlyto risk his neck; and in the second Pine was of more value to him alivethan dead. Comforting himself with this reflection, he managed tomaintain a fairly calm demeanor before his wife.
But on this night Lady Garvington was particularly exasperating, for sheconstantly asked questions which the husband did not feel inclined toanswer. Having heard that Lambert was in the village, she wished to knowwhy he had not been asked to stay at The Manor, and defended the youngman when Garvington pointed out that an iniquitous person who had robbedAgnes of two millions could not be tolerated by the man--Garvingtonmeant himself--he had wronged. Then Jane inquired why Lambert hadbrought Chaldea to the house, and what had passed in the library, butreceived no answer, save a growl. Finally she insisted that Freddy hadlost his appetite, which was perfectly true.
"And I thought you liked that way of dressing a fish so much, dear," washer wail. "I never seem to quite hit your taste."
"Oh, bother: leave me alone, Jane. I'm worried."
"I know you are, for you have eaten so little. What is the matter?"
"Everything's the matter, confound your inquisitiveness. Hasn't Agneslost all her money because of this selfish marriage with Noel, hang him?How the dickens do you expect us to carry on unless we borrow?"
"Can't you get some money from the person who now inherits?"
"Jarwin won't tell me the name."
"But I know who it is," said Lady Garvington triumphantly. "One of theservants who went to the gypsy camp this afternoon told my maid, and mymaid told me. The gypsies are greatly excited, and no wonder."
Freddy stared at her. "Excited, what about?"
"Why, about the money, dear. Don't you know?"
"No, I don't!" shouted Freddy, breaking a glass in his irritation. "Whatis it? Bother you, Jane. Don't keep me hanging on in suspense."
"I'm sure I never do, Freddy, dear. It's Hubert's money which has goneto his mother."
Garvington jumped up. "Who--who--who is his mother?" he demanded,furiously.
"That dear old Gentilla Stanley."
"What! What! What!"
"Oh, Freddy," said his wife plaintively. "You make my head ache. Yes,it's quite true. Celestine had it from William the footman. Fancy,Gentilla having all that money. How lucky she is."
"Oh, damn her; damn her," growled Garvington, breaking another glass.
"Why, dear. I'm sure she's going to make good use of the money. Shesays--so William told Celestine--that she would give a million to learnfor certain who murdered poor Hubert."
"Would she? would she? would she?" Garvington's gooseberry eyes nearlydropped out of his head, and he babbled, and burbled, and choked, andspluttered, until his wife was quite alarmed.
"Freddy, you always eat too fast. Go and lie down, dear."
"Yes," said Garvington, rapidly making up his mind to adopt a certaincourse about which he wished his wife to know nothing. "I'll lie down,Jane."
"And don't take any more wine," warned Jane, as she drifted out of thedining-room. "You are quite red as it is, dear."
But Freddy did not take this advice, but drank glass after glass untilhe became pot-valiant. He needed courage, as he intended to go all byhimself to the lonely Abbot's Wood Cottage and interview Silver. Itoccurred to Freddy that if he could induce the secretary to give up MissGreeby to justice, Mother Cockleshell, out of gratitude, might surrenderto him the sum of one million pounds. Of course, the old hag might havebeen talking all round the shop, and her offer might be bluff, but itwas worth taking into consideration. Garvington, thinking that there wasno time to lose, since his cousin might be beforehand in denouncing theguilty woman, hurried on his fur overcoat, and after leaving a lyingstatement with the butler that he had gone to bed, he went out by theuseful blue door. In a few minutes he was trotting along the well-knownpath making up his mind what to say to Silver. The interview did notpromise to be an easy one.
"I wish I could do without him," thought the treacherous littlescoundrel as he left his own property and struck across the waste groundbeyond the park wall. "But I can't, dash it all, since he's the onlyperson who saw the crime actually committed. 'Course he'll get jailed asan accessory-after-the-fact: but when he comes out I'll give him athousand or so if the old woman parts. At all events, I'll see whatSilver is prepared to do, and then I'll call on old Cockleshell and makethings right with her. Hang it," Freddy had a qualmish feeling. "Theexposure won't be pleasant for me over that unlucky letter, but if I cansnaffle a million, it's worth it. Curse the honor of the family, I'vegot to look after myself somehow. Ho! ho!" he chuckled as he rememberedhis cousin. "What a sell for Noel when he finds that I've taken the windout of his sails. Serve him jolly well right."
In this way Garvington kept up his spirits during the walk, and feltentirely cheerful and virtuous by the time he reached the cottage. Inthe thin, cold moonlight, the wintry wood looked spectral and wan. Thesight of the frowning monoliths, the gaunt, frozen trees and thesnow-powdered earth, made the luxurious little man shiver. Also theanticipated conversation rather daunted him, although he decided thatafter all Silver was but a feeble creature who could be easily managed.What Freddy forgot was that he lacked pluck himself, and that Silver,driven into a corner, might fight with the courage of despair. The sightof the secretary's deadly white and terrified face as he opened the doorsufficient to peer out showed that he was at bay.
"If you come in I'll shoot," he quavered, brokenly. "I'll--I'll brainyou with the poker. I'll throw hot water on you, and--and scratch outyour--your--"
"Come, come," said Garvington, boldly. "It's only me--a friend!"
Silver recognized the voice and the dumpy figure of his visitor. At oncehe dragged him into the passage and barred the door quickly, breathinghard meanwhile. "I don't mind you," he giggled, hysterically. "You're inthe same boat with me, my lord. But I fancied when you knocked that thepolice--the police"--his voice died weakly in his throat: he cast a wildglance around and touched his neck uneasily as though he already feltthe hangman's rope encircling it.
Garvington did not approve of this grim pantomime, and swore. "I'm quitealone, damn you," he said roughly. "It's all right, so far!" He sat downand loosened his overcoat, for the place was like a Turkish bath forheat. "I want a drink. You've been priming yourself, I see," and hepointed to a decanter of port wine and a bottle of brandy which were onthe table along with a tray of glasses. "Silly ass you are to mix."
"I'm--I'm--keeping up my--my spirits," giggled Silver, wholly unnerved,and pouring out the brandy with a shaking hand. "There you are, my lord.There's water, but no soda."
"Keeping up your spirits by pouring spirits down," said Garvington,venturing on a weak joke. "You're in a state of siege, too."
Silver certainly was. He had bolted the shutters, and had piledfurniture against the two windows of the room. On the table beside thedecanter and bottles of brandy, lay a poker, a heavy club which Lamberthad brought from Africa, and had left behind when he gave up thecottage, a revolver loaded in all six chambers, and a large bread knife.Apparently the man was in a dangerous state of despair and was ready togive the officers of the law a hostile welcome when they came to arresthim. He touched the various weapons feverishly.
"I'll give them beans," he said, looking fearfully from right to left."Every door is locked; every window is bolted. I've heaped up chairs andsofas and tables and chests of drawers, and wardrobes and mattressesagainst every opening to keep the devils out. And the lamps--look at thelamps. Ugh!" he shuddered. "I can't bear to be in the dark."
"Plenty of light," observed Garvington, and spoke truly, for there musthave been at least six lamps in the room--two on the table, two on themantel-piece, and a couple on the sideboard. And amidst his primitivedefences sat Silver quailing and quivering at every sound, occasionallypouring brandy down his throat to keep up his courage.
The white looks of the man, the disorder of the room, the glare of themany lights, and the real danger of the situation, communicated theirthrill to Garvington. He shivered and looked into shadowy corners, asSilver did; then strove to reassure both himself and his companion."Don't worry so," he said, sipping his brandy to keep him up to concertpitch, "I've got an idea which will be good for both of us."
"What is it?" questioned the secretary cautiously. He naturally did nottrust the man who had betrayed him.
"Do you know who has inherited Pine's money?"
"No. The person named in the sealed envelope?"
"Exactly, and the person is Mother Cockleshell."
Silver was so amazed that he forgot his fright. "What? Is GentillaStanley related to Pine?"
"She's his grandmother, it seems. One of my servants was at the campto-day and found the gypsies greatly excited over the old cat'swindfall."
"Whew!" Silver whistled and drew a deep breath. "If I'd known that, I'dhave got round the old woman. But it's too late now since all the fat ison the fire. Mr. Lambert knows too much, and you have confessed whatshould have been kept quiet."
"I had to save my own skin," said Garvington sullenly. "After all, I hadnothing to do with the murder. I never guessed that you were so mixed upin it until Lambert brought that bullet to fit the revolver I lent you."
"And which I gave to Miss Greeby," snapped Silver tartly. "She is thecriminal, not me. What a wax she will be in when she learns the truth.I expect your cousin will have her arrested."
"I don't think so. He has some silly idea in his head about the honor ofour name, and won't press matters unless he is forced to."
"Who can force him?" asked Silver, looking more at ease, since he saw agleam of hope.
"Chaldea! She's death on making trouble."
"Can't we silence her? Remember you swing on my hook."
"No, I don't," contradicted Garvington sharply. "I can't be arrested."
"For forging that letter you can!"
"Not at all. I did not write it to lure Pine to his death, but onlywished to maim him."
"That will get you into trouble," insisted Silver, anxious to have acompanion in misery.
"It won't, I tell you. There's no one to prosecute. You are the personwho is in danger, as you knew Miss Greeby to be guilty, and aretherefore an accessory after the fact."
"If Mr. Lambert has the honor of your family at heart he will donothing," said the secretary hopefully; "for if Miss Greeby is arrestedalong with me the writing of that letter is bound to come out."
"I don't care. It's worth a million."
"What is worth a million?"
"The exposure. See here, Silver, I hear that Mother Cockleshell iswilling to hand over that sum to the person who finds the murderer ofher grandson. We know that Miss Greeby is guilty, so why not give herup and earn the money?"
The secretary rose in quivering alarm. "But I'd be arrested also. Yousaid so; you know you said so."
"And I say so again," remarked Garvington, leaning back coolly. "You'dnot be hanged, you know, although she would. A few years in prisonwould be your little lot and when you came out I could give yousay--er--er--ten thousand pounds. There! That's a splendid offer."
"Where would you get the ten thousand? Tell me!" asked Silver with acurious look.
"From the million Mother Cockleshell would hand over to me."
"For denouncing me?"
"For denouncing Miss Greeby."
"You beast!" shrieked Silver hysterically. "You know quite well that ifshe is taken by the police I have no chance of escaping. I'd run awaynow if I had the cash. But I haven't. I count on your cousin keepingquiet because of your family name, and you shan't give the show away."
"But think," said Garvington, persuasively, "a whole million."
"For you, and only ten thousand for me. Oh, I like that."
"Well, I'll make it twenty thousand."
"No! no."
"Thirty thousand."
"No! no! no!"
"Forty, fifty, sixty, seventy--oh, hang it, you greedy beast! I'll giveyou one hundred thousand. You'd be rich for life then."
"Would I, curse you!" Silver clenched his fists and backed against thewall looking decidedly dangerous. "And risk a life-long sentence to getthe money while you take the lion's share."
"You'd only get ten years at most," argued the visitor, annoyed by whathe considered to be silly objections.
"Ten years are ten centuries at my time of life. You shan't denounceme."
Garvington rose. "Yes, I shall," he declared, rendered desperate by thedread lest he should lose the million. "I'm going to Wanbury to-night totell Inspector Darby and get a warrant for Miss Greeby's arrest alongwith yours as her accomplice."
Silver flung himself forward and gripped Garvington's coat. "Youdaren't!"
"Yes, I dare. I can't be hurt. I didn't murder the man and I'm not goingto lose a pile of money for your silly scruples."
"Oh, my lord, consider." Silver in a panic dropped on his knees. "Ishall be shut up for years; it will kill me; it will kill me! And youdon't know what a terrible and clever woman Miss Greeby is. She may denythat I gave her the revolver and I can't prove that I did. Then I mightbe accused of the crime and hanged. Hanged!" cried the poor wretchmiserably. "Oh, you'll never give me away, my lord, will you."
"Confound you, don't I risk my reputation to get the money," ragedGarvington, shaking off the trembling arms which were round his knees."The truth of the letter will have to come out, and then I'm dished sofar as society is concerned. I wouldn't do it--tell that is--but thatthe stakes are so large. One million is waiting to be picked up and I'mgoing to pick it up."
"No! no! no! no!" Silver grovelled on the floor and embracedGarvington's feet. But the more he wailed the more insulting anddetermined did the visitor become. Like all tyrants and bulliesGarvington gained strength and courage from the increased feeblenessof his victim. "Don't give me up," wept the secretary, nearly besidehimself with terror; "don't give me up."
"Oh, damn you, get out of the way!" said Garvington, and made for thedoor. "I go straight to Wanbury," which statement was a lie, as he firstintended to see Mother Cockleshell at the camp and make certain that thereward was safe. But Silver believed him and was goaded to frenzy.
"You shan't go!" he screamed, leaping to his feet, and before Garvingtonknew where he was the secretary had the heavy poker in his grasp. Thelittle fat lord gave a cry of terror and dodged the first blow whichmerely fell on his shoulder. But the second alighted on his head andwith a moan he dropped to the ground. Silver flung away the poker.
"Are you dead? are you dead?" he gasped, kneeling beside Garvington, andplaced his hand on the senseless man's heart. It still beat feebly, s
ohe arose with a sigh of relief. "He's only stunned," panted Silver, andstaggered unsteadily to the table to seize a glass of brandy. "I'll,ah--ah--ah!" he shrieked and dropped the tumbler as a loud andcontinuous knocking came to the front door.
Naturally in his state of panic he believed that the police had actuallyarrived, and here he had struck down Lord Garvington. Even though thelittle man was not dead, Silver knew that the assault would add to hispunishment, although he might have concluded that the lesser crime wasswallowed up in the greater. But he was too terrified to think of doinganything save hiding the stunned man, and with a gigantic effort hemanaged to fling the body behind the sofa. Then he piled up rugs andcushions between the wall and the back of the sofa until Garvington wasquite hidden and ran a considerable risk of being suffocated. All thetime the ominous knocking continued, as though the gallows was beingconstructed. At least it seemed so to Silver's disturbed fancy, and hecrept along to the door holding the revolver in an unsteady grip.
"Who--who--is--"
"Let me in; let me in," said a loud, hard voice. "I'm Miss Greeby. Ihave come to save you. Let me in."
Silver had no hesitation in obeying, since she was in as much danger ashe was and could not hurt him without hurting herself. With tremblingfingers he unbolted the door and opened it, to find her tall and statelyand tremendously impatient on the threshold. She stepped in and bangedthe door to without locking it. Silver's teeth chattered so much and hislimbs trembled so greatly that he could scarcely move or speak. Onseeing this--for there was a lamp in the passage--Miss Greeby picked himup in her big arms like a baby and made for the sitting-room. When,within she pitched Silver on to the sofa behind which Garvington laysenseless, and placing her arms akimbo surveyed him viciously.
"You infernal worm!" said Miss Greeby, grim and savage in her looks,"you have split on me, have you?"
"How--how--how do you know?" quavered Silver mechanically, noting thatin her long driving coat with a man's cap she looked more masculine thanever.
"How do I know? Because Chaldea was hiding under the studio window thisafternoon and overheard all that passed between you and Garvington andthat meddlesome Lambert. She knew that I was in danger and came at onceto London to tell me since I had given her my address. I lost no time,but motored down here and dropped her at the camp. Now I've come to getyou out of the country."
"Me out of the country?" stammered the secretary.
"Yes, you cowardly swine, although I'd rather choke the life out of youif it could be done with safety. You denounced me, you beast."
"I had to; my own neck was in danger."
"It's in danger now. I'd strangle you for two pins. But I intend to sendyou abroad since your evidence is dangerous to me. If you are out of theway there's no one else can state that I shot Pine. Here's twenty poundsin gold;" she thrust a canvas bag into the man's shaking hands; "get onyour coat and cap and I'll take you to the nearest seaport wherever thatis. My motor is on the verge of the wood. You must get on board someship and sail for the world's end. I'll send you more money when youwrite. Come, come," she stamped, "sharp's the word."
"But--but--but--"
Miss Greeby lifted him off the sofa by the scruff of the neck. "Do youwant to be killed?" she said between her teeth, "there's no time to belost. Chaldea tells me that Lambert threatens to have me arrested."
The prospect of safety and prosperity in a distant land so appealed toSilver that he regained his courage in a wonderfully short space oftime. Rising to his feet he hastily drained another glass of brandy andthe color came back to his wan cheeks. But for all the quantity he haddrank that same evening he was not in the least intoxicated. He wasabout to rush out of the room to get his coat and cap when Miss Greebylaid a heavy hand on his shoulder.
"Is there any one else in the house?" she asked suspiciously.
Silver cast a glance towards the sofa. "There's no servant," he said ina stronger voice. "I have been cooking and looking after myself since Icame here. But--but--but--"
"But what, you hound?" she shook him fiercely.
"Garvington's behind the sofa."
"Garvington!" Miss Greeby was on the spot in a moment pulling away theconcealing rugs and cushions. "Have you murdered him?" she demanded,drawing a deep breath and looking at the senseless man.
"No, he's only stunned. I struck him with the poker because he wanted todenounce me."
"Quite right." Miss Greeby patted the head of her accomplice as if hewere a child, "You're bolder than I thought. Go on; hurry up! BeforeGarvington recovers his senses we'll be far enough away. Denounce me;denounce him, will you?" she said, looking at Garvington while thesecretary slipped out of the room; "you do so at your own cost, my lord.That forged letter won't tell in your favor. Ha!" she started to herfeet. "What's that! Who's here?"
She might well ask. There was a struggle going on in the passage, andshe heard cries for help. Miss Greeby flung open the sitting-room door,and Silver, embracing Mother Cockleshell, tumbled at her feet. "She gotin by the door you left open," cried Silver breathlessly, "hold her orwe are lost; we'll never get away."
"No, you won't!" shouted the dishevelled old woman, producing a knife tokeep Miss Greeby at bay. "Chaldea came to the camp and I learned throughKara how she'd brought you down, my Gentile lady. I went to tell thegolden rye, and he's on the way here with the village policeman. You'redone for."
"Not yet." Miss Greeby darted under the uplifted knife and caughtGentilla round the waist. The next moment the old woman was flungagainst the wall, breathless and broken up. But she still contrived tohurl curses at the murderess of her grandson.
"I saw you shoot him; I saw you shoot him," screamed Mother Cockleshell,trying to rise.
"Silver, make for the motor; it's near the camp; follow the path,"ordered Miss Greeby breathlessly; "there's no time to be lost. As tothis old devil--" she snatched up a lamp as the secretary dashed out ofthe house, and flung it fairly at Gentilla Stanley. In a moment the oldwoman was yelling with agony, and scrambled to her feet a pillar offire. Miss Greeby laughed in a taunting manner and hurled another lampbehind the sofa. "You'd have given me up also, would you, Garvington?"she cried in her deep tone; "take that, and that, and that."
Lamp after lamp was smashed and burst into flames, until only one wasleft. Then Miss Greeby, seeing with satisfaction that the entire roomwas on fire and hearing the sound of hasty footsteps and the echoing ofdistant voices, rushed in her turn from the cottage. As she bolted thevoice of Garvington screaming with pain and dread was heard as he cameto his senses to find himself encircled by fire. And Mother Cockleshellalso shrieked, not so much because of her agony as to stop Miss Greebyfrom escaping.
"Rye! Rye! she's running; catch her; catch her. Aha--aha--aha!" and shesank into the now blazing furnace of the room.
The walls of the cottage were of mud, the partitions and roof of woodand thatch, so the whole place soon burned like a bonfire. Miss Greebyshot out of the door and strode at a quick pace across the glade. But asshe passed beyond the monoliths, Lambert, in company with a policeman,made a sudden appearance and blocked her way of escape. With a grimdetermination to thwart him she kilted up her skirts and leaped like akangaroo towards the undergrowth beneath the leafless trees. By thistime the flames were shooting through the thatched roof in long scarletstreamers and illuminated the spectral wood with awful light.
"Stop! stop!" cried Lambert, racing to cut off the woman's retreat,closely followed by the constable.
Miss Greeby laughed scornfully, and instead of avoiding them as theycrossed her path, she darted straight towards the pair. In a moment, bya dexterous touch of her shoulders right and left, she knocked them overby taking them unawares, and then sprang down the path which curvedtowards the gypsies' encampment. At its end the motor was waiting, andso vivid was the light that she saw Silver's black figure bending downas he frantically strove to start the machine. She travelled at topspeed, fearful lest the man should escape without her.
Then came an onrush o
f Romany, attracted to the glade by the fire. Theyguessed from Miss Greeby's haste that something was seriously wrong andtried to stop her. But, delivering blows straight from the shoulder,here, there, and everywhere, the woman managed to break through, andfinally reached the end of the pathway. Here was the motor and safety,since she hoped to make a dash for the nearest seaport and get out ofthe kingdom before the police authorities could act.
But the stars in their course fought against her. Silver, having startedthe machinery, was already handling the steering gear, and bent onlyupon saving his own miserable self, had put the car in motion. He couldonly drive in a slip-slop amateur way and aimlessly zigzagged down thesloping bank which fell away to the high road. As the motor began togather speed Miss Greeby ran for her life and liberty, ranging at lengthbreathlessly alongside. The gypsies tailed behind, shouting.
"Stop, you beast!" screamed Miss Greeby, feeling fear for the firsttime, and she tried to grab the car for the purpose of swinging herselfon board.
But Silver urged it to greater speed. "I save myself; myself," heshrieked shrilly and unhinged by deadly terror, "get away; get away."
In his panic he twisted the wheel in the wrong direction, and the bigmachine swerved obediently. The next moment Miss Greeby was knockeddown and writhed under the wheels. She uttered a tragic cry, but littleSilver cared for that. Rendered merciless with fear he sent the carright over her body, and then drove desperately down the hill to gainthe hard road. Miss Greeby, with a broken back, lay on the ground andsaw as in a ghastly dream her machine flash roaring along the highwaydriven by a man who could not manage it. Even in her pain a smile creptover her pale face.
"He's done for, the little beast," she muttered, "he'll smash. Lambert!Lambert!" The man whose name she breathed had arrived as she spoke; andknelt breathlessly beside her to raise her head. "You--you--oh, poorcreature!" he gasped.
"I'm done for, Lambert," she panted in deadly pain, "back broken. Isinned for you, but--but you can't hang me. Look--look afterGarvington--Cockleshell too--look--look--Augh!" and she moaned.
"Where are they?"
"In--in--the--cottage," murmured the woman, and fell back in a faintingcondition with a would-be sneering laugh.
Lambert started to his feet with an oath, and leaving the wretched womanto the care of some gypsies, ran back to the glade. The cottage was amass of streaming, crackling flames, and there was no water toextinguish these, as he realized with sudden fear. It was terrible tothink that the old woman and Garvington were burning in that furnace,and desperately anxious to save at least one of the two, Lambert triedto enter the door. But the heat of the fire drove him back, and theflames seemed to roar at his discomfiture. He could do nothing but standhelplessly and gaze upon what was plainly Garvington's funeral pyre.
By this time the villagers were making for the wood, and the whole placerang with cries of excitement and dismay. The wintry scene was revealedonly too clearly by the ruddy glare and by the same sinister light.Lambert suddenly beheld Chaldea at his elbow. Gripping his arm, shespoke hoarsely, "The tiny rye is dead. He drove the engine over a bankand it smashed him to a pulp."
"Oh! ah! And--and Miss Greeby?"
"She is dying."
Lambert clenched his hands and groaned, "Garvington and MotherCockleshell?"
"She is dead and he is dead by now," said Chaldea, looking with acallous smile at the burning cottage, "both are dead--Lord Garvington."
"Lord Garvington?" Lambert groaned again. He had forgotten that he nowpossessed the title and what remained of the family estates.
"Avali!" cried Chaldea, clapping her hands and nodding toward thecottage with a meaning smile, "there's the bonfire to celebrate theluck."
CHAPTER XXI.
A FINAL SURPRISE.
A week later and Lambert was seated in the library of The Manor, lookingworn and anxious. His wan appearance was not due so much to what he hadpassed through, trying as late events had been, as to his dread of whatInspector Darby was about to say. That officer was beside him, gettingready for an immediate conversation by turning over various papers whichhe produced from a large and well-filled pocket-book. Darby lookedcomplacent and important, as an examination into the late tragedy hadadded greatly to his reputation as a zealous officer. Things were nowmore ship-shape, as Miss Greeby had died after making confession of hercrime and had been duly buried by her shocked relatives. The ashes ofLord Garvington and Mother Cockleshell, recovered from the debris ofthe cottage, had also been disposed of with religious ceremonies, andSilver's broken body had been placed in an unwept grave. The frightfulcatastrophe which had resulted in the death of four people had been thetalk of the United Kingdom for the entire seven days.
What Lambert was dreading to hear was the report of Miss Greeby'sconfession, which Inspector Darby had come to talk about. He had triedto see her himself at the village inn, whither she had been transferredto die, but she had refused to let him come to her dying bed, andtherefore he did not know in what state of mind she had passed away.Judging from the vindictive spirit which she had displayed, Lambertfancied that she had told Darby the whole wretched story of the forgedletter and the murder. The last was bound to be confessed, but the youngman had hoped against hope that Miss Greeby would be silent regardingGarvington's share in the shameful plot. Wickedly as his cousin hadbehaved, Lambert did not wish his memory to be smirched and the familyhonor to be tarnished by a revelation of the little man's truecharacter. He heartily wished that the evil Garvington had done mightbe buried with him, and the whole sordid affair forgotten.
"First, my lord," said Darby leisurely, when his papers were in order,"I have to congratulate your lordship on your accession to the title.Hitherto so busy have I been that there has been no time to do this."
"Thank you, Mr. Inspector, but I regret that I should have succeededthrough so tragic a death."
"Yes, yes, my lord! the feeling does you honor," Darby noddedsympathetically; "but it must be some comfort for you to know that yourpoor cousin perished when on an errand of mercy, although his aim wasnot perhaps quite in accordance with strict justice."
Lambert stared. "I don't know what you mean," he remarked, being puzzledby this coupling of Garvington's name with any good deed.
"Of course you don't, my lord. But for you to understand I had betterbegin with Miss Greeby's confession. I must touch on some ratherintimate things, however," said the inspector rather shyly.
"Meaning that Miss Greeby was in love with me."
"Exactly, my lord. Her love for you--if you will excuse my mentioning soprivate a subject--caused the whole catastrophe."
"Indeed," the young man felt a sense of relief, as if Darby put thematter in this way the truth about the forged letter could scarcely havecome to light, "will you explain?"
"Certainly, my lord. Miss Greeby always wished to marry your lordship,but she knew that you loved your wife, the present Lady Garvington, whowas then Lady Agnes Pine. She believed that you and Lady Agnes wouldsooner or later run away together."
"There was no reason she should think so," said Noel, becoming scarlet.
"Of course not, my lord. Pardon me again for speaking of such veryprivate matters. But I can scarcely make your lordship understand howthe late Sir Hubert Pine came by his death unless I am painfully frank."
"Go on, Mr. Inspector," Noel leaned back and folded his arms. "Be frankto the verge of rudeness, if you like."
"Oh, no, no, my lord; certainly not," Darby said in a shocked manner."I will be as delicate as I possibly can. Well, then, my lord, MissGreeby, thinking that you might elope with the then Lady Agnes Pine,resolved to place an even greater barrier between you than themarriage."
"What could be a possibly greater barrier?"
"Your honor, my lord, your strict sense of honor. Miss Greeby thoughtthat if she got rid of Sir Hubert, and Lady Agnes was in possession ofthe millions, that you would never risk her losing the same for yoursake."
"She was right in supposing that, Mr. Inspe
ctor, but how did Miss Greebyknow that Lady Agnes would lose the money if she married me?"
"Sir Hubert told her so himself, my lord, when she discovered that hewas at the Abbot's Wood camp under the name of Ishmael Hearne."
"His real name."
"Of course, my lord; of course. And having made this discovery andknowing how jealous Sir Hubert was of his wife--if you will pardon mymentioning the fact--Miss Greeby laid a trap to lure him to The Manorthat he might be shot."
The listener moved uneasily, and he now quite expected to hear therevelation of Garvington's forgery. "Go on, Mr. Inspector."
"Miss Greeby," pursued the officer, glancing at his notes, "knew thatthe late Mark Silver, who was Sir Hubert's secretary, was not welldisposed toward his employer, as he fancied that he had been cheated outof the proceeds of certain inventions. Miss Greeby worked on this pointand induced Silver to forge a letter purporting to come from Lady Agnesto you saying that an elopement had been arranged."
"Oh," Lambert drew a breath of relief, "so Silver laid a trap, did he?"
"Yes, my lord, and a very clever one. The letter was arranged by Silverto fall into Sir Hubert's hands. That unfortunate gentleman came to theblue door at the appointed time, then Miss Greeby, who had climbed outof the window of her bedroom to hide in the shrubbery, shot theunsuspecting man. She then got back into her room--and a very cleverclimber she must have been, my lord--and afterward mingled with theguests."
"But why did she think of luring Sir Hubert to be shot?" asked Noel withfeigned ignorance, "when she ran such a risk of being discovered?"
"Ah, my lord, therein lies the cleverness of the idea. Poor LordGarvington had threatened to shoot any burglar, and that gave MissGreeby the idea. It was her hope that your late cousin might kill SirHubert by mistaking him for a robber, and she only posted herself in theshrubbery to shoot if Sir Hubert was not killed. He was not, as we knowthat the shot fired by Lord Garvington only broke his arm. Miss Greebymade sure by killing him herself, and very cleverly she did so."
"And what about my late cousin's philanthropic visit to Silver?"
"Ah, my lord, that was a mistake. His lordship was informed of theforged letter by Chaldea the gypsy girl, who found it in Sir Hubert'stent, and for the sake of your family wished to get Silver out of thecountry. It would have been dreadful--as Lord Garvington rightlyconsidered--that the name of his sister and your name should bementioned in connection with an elopement even though it was untrue. Hetherefore went to induce Silver to leave the country, but the man,instead of being grateful, stunned his lordship with a blow from a pokerwhich he had picked up."
"How was that known, Mr. Inspector?"
"Miss Greeby had the truth from his own lips. Silver threatened todenounce her, and knowing this Chaldea went to London to warn her."
"Oh," muttered Lambert, thinking of what Gentilla Stanley had said, "howdid she find out?"
"She overheard a conversation between Silver and Lord Garvington in thecottage."
Lambert was relieved again, since Miss Greeby had not evidentlymentioned him as being mixed up with the matter. "Yes, Mr. Inspector, Ican guess the rest. This unfortunate woman came down to get Silver, whocould have hanged her, out of the country, and he set fire to thecottage."
"She set fire to it," corrected Darby quickly, "by chance, as she toldme, she overturned a lamp. Of course, Lord Garvington, being senseless,was burned to death. Gentilla Stanley was also burned."
"How did she come to be there?"
"Oh, it seems that Gentilla followed Hearne--he was her grandson I hearfrom the gypsies--to The Manor on that night and saw the shooting. Butshe said nothing, not feeling sure if her unsupported testimony would besufficient to convict Miss Greeby. However, she watched that lady andfollowed her to the cottage to denounce her and prevent the escape ofSilver--who knew the truth also, as she ascertained. Silver knocked theold woman down and stunned her, so she also was burned to death. ThenSilver ran for the motor car and crushed Miss Greeby--since he could notmanage the machine."
"Did he crush her on purpose, do you think?"
"No," said Darby after a pause, "I don't think so. Miss Greeby was rich,and if the pair of them had escaped Silver would have been able toextort money. He no more killed her than he killed himself by dashinginto that chalk pit near the road. It was mismanagement of the motor inboth cases."
Lambert was quiet for a time. "Is that all?" he asked, looking up.
"All, my lord," answered the inspector, gathering his papers together.
"Is anything else likely to appear in the papers?"
"No, my lord."
"I noted," said Lambert slowly, "that there was no mention of the forgedletter made at the inquest."
Darby nodded. "I arranged that, my lord, since the forged letter made sofree with your lordship's name and that of the present Lady Garvington.As you probably saw, it was only stated that the late Sir Hubert hadgone to meet his secretary at The Manor and that Miss Greeby, knowing ofhis coming, had shot him. The motive was ascribed as anger at the lateSir Hubert for having lost a great sum of money which Miss Greebyentrusted to him for the purpose of speculation."
"And is it true that such money was entrusted and lost?"
"Perfectly true, my lord. I saw in that fact a chance of hiding the realtruth. It would do no good to make the forged letter public and wouldcast discredit both on the dead and the living. Therefore all that hasbeen said does not even hint at the trap laid by Silver. Now that allparties concerned are dead and buried, no more will be heard of thematter, and your lordship can sleep in peace."
The young man walked up and down the room for a few minutes while theinspector made ready to depart. Noel was deeply touched by the man'sconsideration and made up his mind that he should not lose by thedelicacy he had shown in preserving his name and that of Agnes fromthe tongue of gossips. He saw plainly that Darby was a man he couldthoroughly trust and forthwith did so.
"Mr. Inspector," he said, coming forward to shake hands, "you have actedin a most kind and generous manner and I cannot show my appreciation ofyour behavior more than by telling you the exact truth of this sadaffair."
"I know the truth," said Darby staring.
"Not the exact truth, which closely concerns the honor of my family. Butas you have saved that by suppressing certain evidence it is only rightthat you should know more than you do know."
"I shall keep quiet anything that you tell me, my lord," said Darbygreatly pleased; "that is, anything that is consistent with my officialduty."
"Of course. Also I wish you to know exactly how matters stand, sincethere may be trouble with Chaldea."
"Oh, I don't think so, my lord. Chaldea has married that dwarf."
"Kara, the Servian gypsy?"
"Yes. She's given him a bad time, and he put up with it because he hadno authority over her; but now that she's his romi--as these people calla wife--he'll make her dance to his playing. They left England yesterdayfor foreign parts--Hungary, I fancy, my lord. The girl won't come backin a hurry, for Kara will keep an eye on her."
Lambert drew a long breath of relief. "I am glad," he said simply, "asI never should have felt safe while she remained in England."
"Felt safe?" echoed the officer suspiciously.
His host nodded and told the man to take a seat again. Then, withoutwasting further time, he related the real truth about the forged letter.Darby listened to the recital in amazement and shook his head sadly overthe delinquency of the late Lord Garvington.
"Well! Well!" said the inspector staring, "to think as a nobleman bornand bred should act in this way."
"Why shouldn't a nobleman be wicked as well as the grocer?" said Lambertimpatiently, "and according to the socialistic press all the evil ofhumanity is to be found in aristocratic circles. However, you know theexact truth, Mr. Inspector, and I have confided to you the secret whichconcerns the honor of my family. You won't abuse my confidence."
Darby rose and extended his hand. "You may be sure of tha
t, my lord.What you have told me will never be repeated. Everything in connectionwith this matter is finished, and you will hear no more about it."
"I'm glad and thankful," said the other, again drawing a breath ofrelief, "and to show my appreciation of your services, Darby, I shallsend you a substantial check."
"Oh, my lord, I couldn't take it. I only did my duty."
"I think you did a great deal more than that," answered the new LordGarvington dryly, "and had you acted entirely on the evidence yougathered together, and especially on the confession of that miserablewoman, you might have made public much that I would prefer to keepprivate. Take the money from a friend, Darby, and as a mark of esteemfor a man."
"Thank you, my lord," replied the inspector straightly, "I don't denybut what my conscience and my duty to the Government will allow me totake it since you put it in that way. And as I am not a rich man themoney will be welcome. Thank you!"
With a warm hand-shake the inspector took his departure and Noel offeredup a silent prayer of thankfulness to God that things had turned out soadmirably. His shifty cousin was now dead and there was no longer anydanger that the honor of the family, for which so much had beensacrificed, both by himself and Agnes, would be smirched. The young manregretted the death of Mother Cockleshell, who had been so well disposedtoward his wife and himself, but he rejoiced that Chaldea had leftEngland under the guardianship of Kara, as henceforth--if he knewanything of the dwarf's jealous disposition--the girl would trouble himno more. And Silver was dead and buried, which did away with anypossible trouble coming from that quarter. Finally, poor Miss Greeby,who had sinned for love, was out of the way and there was no need to beanxious on her account. Fate had made a clean sweep of all the actors inthe tragedy, and Lambert hoped that this particular play was ended.
When the inspector went away, Lord Garvington sought out his wife andhis late cousin's widow. To them he reported all that had passed andgave them the joyful assurance that nothing more would be heard inconnection with the late tragic events. Both ladies were delighted.
"Poor Freddy," sighed Agnes, who had quite forgiven her brother now thathe had paid for his sins, "he behaved very badly; all the same he hadhis good points, Noel."
"Ah, he had, he had," said Lady Garvington, the widow, shaking heruntidy head, "he was selfish and greedy, and perhaps not so thoughtfulas he might have been, but there are worse people than poor Freddy."
Noel could not help smiling at this somewhat guarded eulogy of the dead,but did not pursue the subject. "Well, Jane, you must not grieve toomuch."
"No, I shall not," she admitted bluntly, "I am going to be quiet for afew months and then perhaps I may marry again. But I shall marry a manwho lives on nuts and roots, my dear Noel. Never again," she shuddered,"shall I bother about the kitchen. I shall burn Freddy's recipes andcookery books."
Lady Garvington evidently really felt relieved by the death of hergreedy little husband, although she tried her best to appear sorry. Butthe twinkle of relief in her eyes betrayed her, and neither Noel norAgnes could blame her. She had enough to live on--since the new lord hadarranged this in a most generous manner--and she was free from the caresof the kitchen.
"So I'll go to London in a few days when I've packed up," said the widownodding, "you two dears can stay here for your second honeymoon."
"It will be concerned with pounds, shillings, and pence, then," saidAgnes with a smile, "for Noel has to get the estate put in order.Things are very bad just now, as I know for certain. But we must try tosave The Manor from going out of the family."
It was at this moment, and while the trio wondered how the financialcondition of the Lamberts was to be improved, that a message came sayingthat Mr. Jarwin wished to see Lord and Lady Garvington in the library.Wondering what the lawyer had come about, and dreading further bad news,the young couple descended, leaving the widow to her packing up. Theyfound the lean, dry solicitor waiting for them with a smiling face.
"Oh!" said Agnes as she greeted him, "then it's not bad news?"
"On the contrary," said Jarwin, with his cough, "it is the best ofnews."
Noel looked at him hard. "The best of news to me at the present momentwould be information about money," he said slowly. "I have a title, itis true, but the estate is much encumbered."
"You need not trouble about that, Lord Garvington; Mrs. Stanley has putall that right."
"What?" asked Agnes greatly agitated. "Has she made over the mortgagesto Noel? Oh, if she only has."
"She has done better than that," remarked Jarwin, producing a paper ofno great size, "this is her will. She wanted to make a deed of gift, andprobably would have done so had she lived. But luckily she made thewill--and a hard-and-fast one it is--for I drew it up myself," said Mr.Jarwin complacently.
"How does the will concern us?" asked Agnes, catching Noel's hand with atremor, for she could scarcely grasp the hints of the lawyer.
"Mrs. Stanley, my dear lady, had a great regard for you since you nursedher through a dangerous illness. Also you were, as she put it, a goodand true wife to her grandson. Therefore, as she approved of you and ofyour second marriage, she has left the entire fortune of your latehusband to you and to Lord Garvington here."
"Never!" cried Lambert growing pale, while his wife gasped withastonishment.
"It is true, and here is the proof," Jarwin shook the parchment, "onemillion to you, Lord Garvington, and one million to your wife. Listen,if you please," and the solicitor read the document in a formal mannerwhich left no doubt as to the truth of his amazing news. When hefinished the lucky couple looked at one another scarcely able to speak.It was Agnes who recovered her voice first.
"Oh, it can't be true--it can't be true," she cried. "Noel, pinch me,for I must be dreaming."
"It is true, as the will gives you to understand," said the lawyer,smiling in his dry way, "and if I may be permitted to say so, LadyGarvington, never was money more rightfully inherited. You surrenderedeverything for the sake of true love, and it is only just that youshould be rewarded. If Mrs. Stanley had lived she intended to keep fiveor six thousand for herself so that she could transport certain gypsiesto America, but she would undoubtedly have made a deed of gift of therest of the property. Oh, what a very fortunate thing it was that shemade this will," cried Jarwin, genuinely moved at the thought of thepossible loss of the millions, "for her unforeseen death would havespoiled everything if I had not the forethought to suggest thetestament."
"It is to you we owe our good fortune."
"To Mrs. Gentilla Stanley--and to me partially. I only ask for my rewardthat you will continue to allow me to see after the property. The fees,"added Jarwin with his dry cough, "will be considerable."
"You can rob us if you like," said Noel, slapping him on the back."Well, to say that I am glad is to speak weakly. I am overjoyed. Withthis money we can restore the fortunes of the family again."
"They will be placed higher than they have ever been before," criedAgnes with a shining face. "Two millions. Oh, what a lot of good we cando."
"To yourselves?" inquired Jarwin dryly.
"And to others also," said Lambert gravely. "God has been so good to usthat we must be good to others."
"Then be good to me, Lord Garvington," said the solicitor, putting awaythe will in his bag, "for I am dying of hunger. A little luncheon--"
"A very big one."
"I am no great eater," said Jarwin, and walked toward the door, "a washand brush-up and a plate of soup will satisfy me. And I will say againwhat I said before to both of you, that you thoroughly deserve your goodfortune. Lord Garvington, you are the luckier of the two, as you have awife who is far above rubies, and--and--dear me, I am talking romance.So foolish at my age. To think--well--well, I am extremely hungry, sodon't let luncheon be long before it appears," and with a croaking laughat his jokes the lawyer disappeared.
Left alone the fortunate couple fell into one another's arms. It seemedincredible that the past storm should have been succeeded by sowonde
rful a calm. They had been tested by adversity, and they had provedthemselves to be of sterling metal. Before them the future stretched ina long, smooth road under sunny blue skies, and behind them the blackclouds, out of which they had emerged, were dispersing into thin air.Evil passes, good endures.
"Two millions!" sighed Agnes joyfully.
"Of red money," remarked her husband.
"Why do you call it that?"
"Mother Cockleshell--bless her!--called it so because it was taintedwith blood. But we must cleanse the stains, Agnes, by using much of itto help all that are in trouble. God has been good in settling ouraffairs in this way, but He has given me a better gift than the money."
"What is that?" asked Lady Garvington softly.
"The love of my dear wife," said the happiest of men to the happiest ofwomen.
THE END.
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