The Red Window

by Fergus Hume

  CHAPTER IX

  AT COVE CASTLE

  Five miles from Hurseton the marshes began and did not end until theytouched the coast. There were acres of mud and reeds and succulentgrasses, interspersed with narrow waterways. In rainy weather thislow-lying land--if it could be called so--almost disappeared underwater, and in summer the poisonous morass exhaled white mists whichcaused fever and ague. The people who dwelt on the border of the sloughof despond were rarely healthy, but they were attached to the dismalneighborhood and refused to move to higher ground where they would haveenjoyed better health. What was good enough for their fathers was goodenough for them, was the argument upon which they based their refusal.

  The road from Hurseton changed where the marshes began to a causeway andran solid and high across the treacherous bog towards the coast. Here ittook a sudden turn, and passed through several fishing villages on itsway to Market-on-Sea. And thence between hedges it passed onward toLondon, a road once more. Some distance from the curve an arm of thecauseway ran for a quarter of a mile to Cove Castle, which was built ona firm and elevated spot of ground, near a kind of estuary whichcommunicated with the sea. The sea itself was only distant half a mile,and a fine view of it could be obtained from the castle. Why thebuilding should be called by so high-sounding a name, it is hard to say.It was simply a large stone house of two story, with a kind of tower atone end. Formerly, in the reign of Elizabeth, it had been a fort, andafterwards, falling into decay, had been used by smugglers for thestoring of contraband goods. In the reign of George III., the then LordConniston being disgusted with life, and anxious to isolate himself fromthe gay world, in which he had glittered to the detriment of his purseand health, had bought the property and there had lived and died. Atthat time the family possessed several seats and a town house. But theGeorgian Conniston preferred this unhealthy neighborhood, as leastlikely to attract his former friends. So no one visited him, and helived and died a recluse. Afterwards the castle was deserted again, thesuccessors of this lordly hermit preferring to live in more healthyparts. But gradually the property had been sold bit by bit, until, whenDick, the present lord, inherited, nothing remained to him but CoveCastle and the few acres around. Also he possessed the family vault,which was underneath the Church of St. Agnes at the village of Benstow,three miles away. It was strange that the members of the family shouldhave decided to be buried in this lonely place, when they could haverested in some green churchyard in the Midlands. But, seeing that CoveCastle alone remained to their descendants, it was just as well that theformer holders of the title had entertained this odd idea. The presentLord Conniston at least retained, out of the wreck of the property, thevault wherein the remains of his forebears were laid.

  When Conniston arrived at the castle he was met at the door by agigantic female of uncommon ugliness, who answered to the name of SelinaMoon. She was large enough to have earned an income by exhibitingherself in a caravan, being considerably over six feet, and sufficientlyugly to shame even the witches in Macbeth. Had Mrs. Moon lived in theMiddle Ages, she would assuredly have been put to death for sorcery, asher looks seemed hardly human. She had the frame of a grenadier and thevoice of a drill sergeant. Her face was large and round and pallid, froma long life in the midst of the marshes. A few grey hairs on her upperlip gave her a still more masculine look, and, indeed, the leastobservant would have taken her for a man in disguise. She wore a frilledcap, which surrounded her face like the rays of a sunflower, and wore avivid red gown bound at the waist by a yellow scarf. Mrs. Moon lovedbright colors, and apparently, if one could judge from her black eyesand beaked nose, had something of the gipsy in her. Not so far aswandering was concerned, though, for she rarely left the castle. Thiswas because her great size, coupled with her love of finery, provokedcomment from adults and insults from children whenever she venturedabroad.

  This Amazonian female, from her height of six feet five, looked down onConniston with a submissive air. She was as timid as a rabbit, the mostharmless of her sex, and report went, that the late Mr. Moon, who hadbeen almost a dwarf, had frequently beaten her in spite of her superiorinches. However, the old man was dead, and for many a long day Mrs. Moonhad lorded it over the one servant in the castle. But she still wore hersubmissive air, and when her master imperiously demanded a sight of thegentleman who was expecting him, led the way at once to an upper room.

  "But I wouldn't take everyone," said Mrs. Moon in a thin, high voicelike the midnight wind in a chimney. "He being wishful to keep hisselfquiet. What have he done, my lord?"

  "Nothing," said Conniston, promptly. "He only came down here for a rest.Do you think he has robbed the bank?"

  "There's worse things than robbing banks," remarked Mrs. Moon, shakingher frilled cap portentously, "and the worse things is what he's done.And why shouldn't he tell me his name if he was a babe for innocence?"

  "Didn't he do so when he arrived?" asked Conniston, halting on thelanding with an anxious look.

  "No, my lord, bless your heart! he didn't," said the giantess; "and butthat he had your letter, which was as plain as print----"

  "And _was_ print," interpolated Dick, remembering his caligraphy adaptedto the brains of Mrs. Moon.

  "I shouldn't have let him in. But your lordship said he was to have thebest room, and the best room he has, to say nothing of your lordship'sclothes, he having arrived in tatters like a tramp, which he isn't fromthe princely looks of him. No one knows as he is here, he having askedme to say nothing. But Victoria----"

  "What about her?" asked Conniston, rather sharply, for Victoria was asmall servant, preternaturally sharp and mighty curious.

  "She's allays asking questions as to what he's doing here."

  "Then, don't answer her questions."

  "I don't," said Mrs. Moon, plaintively, "and but that she's so strongI'd smack her hard. But only Jerry could manage her, and, bless me! yourdear lordship, he's earning his bread in London, though I haven't heardof him for months."

  "He's not in the place I obtained for him," said Conniston, stopping atthe door of the room indicated by the housekeeper. "He's robbed the tilland bolted."

  Mrs. Moon was not all disturbed. "Just like his poor father, my secondson," said she, shaking the frilled cap again. "He was a wonderful boyfor money and never minded how he got it. Have they jailed Jerry?" sheasked, with great simplicity.

  Conniston could hardly help smiling at the calm way in which she tookthe report of her grandson's wickedness. "No, his master turned him outand gave him another chance."

  "Bless and preserve your dear lordship, Jerry won't take no chance, as Ialways said, being advised by the cards. It's the gallers that boy willcome to, and may I not be here to see him dangling at the end of a rope,much as he may deserve it. Jerry's a bad 'un, for sure, and takes aftermy old man's side of the family, several having been choked by the lawrfor thieving and murdering and otherwise taking their enjoyment. Whereis he now?"

  "I don't know, Mrs. Moon. But if he comes here, don't you let him intothe castle and don't you let him know that Mr.--Mr. Grant"--Dick gaveBernard a new name for the sake of concealment--"is here."

  "Grant!" echoed Mrs. Moon. "But he don't look Scotch."

  "Never you mind what he is. You hold your tongue and make Victoria holdhers."

  "Only Jerry can manage her," said Mrs. Moon, firmly, "me not beingstrong enough for such a tearing cat. If your lordship would speakyourself----"

  "I'll see to it," interrupted Conniston, quickly. "I'm stopping here forthe night, Mrs. Moon. Can you give me and Mr.--er--Grant a good dinner?"

  "I'll cook it myself, Victoria being fond of burning things and herpastery being lead for heaviness. The wine your lordship knows----"

  "Is there any of that port left?"

  "Plenty, save what Jerry drank, he being fond of his glass."

  "What! a boy of thirteen, Mrs. Moon!" said Conniston, seriously. "If youhad stifled Jerry in the mud years ago it would h
ave been better for himand for you."

  Mrs. Moon blew a gigantic sigh. "True enough, your lordship, seeing ashe'll occupy a place in the Chamber of Horrors in the exhibition me andMoon saw in London. Ah, well, some of his grandfather's people werehanged and----"

  Conniston waited to hear no more of this domestic Newgate's Calendar,but abruptly opened the door and entered the room.

  It was a large, airy apartment, with two windows looking on to theshining expanse of the sea, and well furnished in an old-fashioned way.In a large grate a fire of logs was briskly burning, so that theatmosphere was less damp than in the other rooms of the castle. Thefurniture was all of black oak, and included a square table, acomfortable sofa which was drawn up close to the fire, and severalarm-chairs. Also there was a sideboard and a bookcase well supplied withvolumes of works long since out of print. The hangings were of fadedbrocade, and the carpet was patched and mended. Here and there wasvaluable china and a few silver ornaments. The whole room lookedcomfortable and home-like, and rather quaint in its faded and mellowbeauty.

  "Where are you, Bernard?" asked Conniston, seeing the room was empty.

  For answer a window curtain was drawn aside and Gore came out, holdingthe heavy steel poker. "It's only you," he said, looking very pale. "Iheard voices and concealed myself behind the curtain. I expected you,but didn't know but what someone else might come. That servant suspectsme."

  "Not Mrs. Moon," said Conniston, pitying the haggard looks of hisfriend.

  "No, Victoria. She is as sharp as a needle and--"

  "Don't distress yourself, old boy," said Dick, taking Gore's hand andleading him to the sofa upon which he had been apparently lying untilstartled by the sound of voices. "Mrs. Moon can be depended upon andI'll speak to Victoria myself. You are safe here."

  "Are you sure, Dick?"

  "Perfectly sure. And even if you were discovered I could manage toconceal you in the vaults below the castle."

  "Are there vaults?" asked the fugitive, who was shivering and pale.

  "Yes! The old smugglers used them to store goods and as hiding-places.There is a passage and door communicating with the arm of the sea whichruns near the castle, and you could easily escape to foreign parts bymeans of a boat. Cheer up, old boy," added Dick, clapping his friend onthe back, "you're not dead yet."

  The poor, hunted young fellow threw his arm schoolboy fashion overConniston's shoulder. "What a good fellow you are, Dick!" he said. "Ifancied you might believe me guilty."

  "I'd as soon believe myself guilty, you several kinds of ass."

  "And Alice?" asked Bernard, under his breath.

  "She believes you innocent, so does Aunt Berengaria and Durham. Yes! andMiss Randolph also. She's a ripping girl that. I wish she wasn't engagedto Beryl, the pig!"

  "What does he say?" asked Gore, warming his hand and casting a look overhis shoulder.

  "He says nothing, because he thinks you are drown-dead, as Mr. Peggottywould say. And, by Jove! Bernard, I thought you really were dead. Youhave no idea what a relief it was when I got your letter. How did youescape?"

  Bernard passed his hand through his hair and sighed wearily. The strainthrough which he had passed, and from which he still suffered, showeditself in his bloodless cheeks and his wild eyes. At every sound hestarted and shook. His nerves, and small wonder, were quite unstrung,and even while sitting safely beside his old school chum on the sofanear the fire, he kept a tight hold of him, like a child by its mother'sknee. Seeing this, Conniston rose quickly. Bernard was on his feet in amoment, startled by the suddenness of the movement.

  "What's the matter?" he demanded, looking anxiously around, and eyeingboth door and window suspiciously.

  "You are the matter," said Conniston, touching the bell. "I must get yousome wine. You look so awfully ill, old chap. This will never do. I tellyou, Bernard, you are all right. I'll stick to you through thick andthin."

  "But if I was arrested?"

  "You won't be arrested. Everyone thinks you are dead. You'll stay hereuntil we sift this matter to the bottom, and then you can take yourplace again in the world as Sir Bernard Gore."

  "Sir Bernard!"

  "Of course. You inherit the title and the money also."

  "Not the money, Dick?"

  "Yes! Durham told me to tell you, as he couldn't come himself. He is nowreading the will and Beryl will find himself left out in the cold. Youget everything."

  Bernard threw up his hands. "And I'm a hunted fugitive."

  "Steady, old boy. Bite on the bullet. You're a dead man, and will remainone until we discover who killed your grandfather."

  "And how can we----"

  "Shut up, Bernard!" Conniston made an imperative sign as a knock cameto the door. Gore at once turned his face to the fire and began toarrange the logs, while Lord Conniston spoke to a sharp, dark, wizenchild who entered the room. She was no more than fifteen, but had suchan old face and such a womanly appearance that she looked much older.Her eyes were as black as sloes and her thin lips tightly closed. Amost unpleasant-looking creature with a waspish nature.

  "Oh, Victoria," said Conniston, as this goblin dropped a curtsey, "Iwant you to bring up some port wine.--Mrs. Moon will give it to you--andsome glasses also."

  "Yes, m'lord!"

  "Bring a plate of biscuits too."

  "Yes, m'lord!"

  "And, Victoria," said the young man, as she retreated, "there is no needfor you to mention that I have visitors at the castle."

  "No, m'lord," said Victoria, and, with a glance full of suspicion atBernard's back, she withdrew as noiselessly as she entered, and with afinal curtsey, such as might have been made by a wooden doll. Indeed,Victoria--a most inappropriate name--might well have been cut out ofwood, so stiff and angular and hard did she look. Conniston did notwonder that placid Mrs. Moon could not control this embryo virago. Acombat between them would be like that between an elephant and amosquito, with the betting on the insect.

  "That's a mistake, Dick," said Bernard, when the door closed.

  "What is?" asked Conniston, staring.

  "Telling that girl to hold her tongue. She has no reason to suspect me,and quite as likely as not thought me merely your guest. Now she willfancy all sorts of things."

  "I hope not," said Conniston, uneasily, "but she's such a little devilthat I thought it best to give her one for herself. And if she chattersshe will lose her situation. I am so afraid lest she should be incommunication with Jerry."

  "Jerry?"

  "Judas. The grandson of Mrs. Moon who robbed Taberley. He and Victoriawere as thick as thieves, and are about equal in wickedness. If the girlsuspected anything she might ask Judas to help her to learn more of thetruth than we want known. Both would sell their nearest and dearest fora pound. But don't bother, Bernard," said the easy-going Dick, againcrossing to the sofa, "everything is right."

  "I hope so, I hope so," muttered Gore. "If I am arrested I cannot makeany defence."

  "We'll talk of that later. Here comes Mrs. Moon with the wine, and sospeedily that I suspect she must have out a bottle for her privatedrinking. I say, Mrs. Moon," said Conniston, as the giantess enteredwith a silver tray and the wine, "don't let Victoria leave the castle onany account."

  "I should think not," said Mrs. Moon, setting down the tray. "She workslittle enough as it is without trapesing about on holidays. I'd keep herunder lock and key on bread and water if I had my way, and if she wasn'ttoo strong for me, the besom that she is!--begging your dear lordship'spardon. Anything else, my lord?"

  "No. You can go."

  "And glad I am to go," said Mrs. Moon, withdrawing with a ponderousstep, "being engaged in playing kings."

  "Kings," said Conniston, when she vanished.

  Bernard, in spite of his sadness, laughed and explained. "It's a game ofpatience," he said. "I asked Mrs. Moon for a pack of cards to pass thetime, and was playing the game myself. She was curious; so, to keep herin a good temper, I taught it to her. Ever since she has been playing itunsuccessfully."<
br />
  "Oh!" Conniston was not interested in his housekeeper's games. He openedthe bottle of port and carefully poured out a full glass, which hepassed to Bernard. "Drink that up, you sinner."

  Gore sipped a little wine but finally drank the whole glass. Connistonmade him take another in spite of his protestations, and then the colorcame back to his sunken cheeks. The poor fellow was thin with anxietyand want of sleep. When Conniston saw he was better he made him light apipe and then sat down to hear an account of his escape. Bernard wasgrateful for these attentions and began to look less cowed.

  "You're a good friend, Dick," he said, smoking luxuriously. "This is thefirst moment of peace I have known since that awful moment."

  "How did you escape?" asked Conniston, lighting a cigarette.

  "I threw myself into the river and swam across."

  "In the fog?"

  "Yes. I was guided by the piers of the Chelsea Bridge. On the oppositeside I took off my coat and hat and left them lying on the bank, so thatit might be thought I was drowned."

  "Which is exactly what people do think," said Dick, complacently.

  "Thank Heaven for that. Well, then I went into a public-house I foundopen--it was not yet midnight--and made up a story about having beenrobbed and thrown into the river."

  "That was dangerous. The public-house people might have advised you tosee the police."

  "I don't think the landlord had any love for the police," said Gore,dryly. "He looked like an old convict himself and displayed afellow-sympathy. I don't know if he believed my story. However, for asovereign he gave me a coat and hat, and asked no questions. I walkedacross Waterloo Bridge in the fog and escaped observation. But for thefog I expect my military breeches and leggings would have betrayed meand provoked questions. But I managed to escape."

  "I didn't sleep at all. I walked the whole night, and by dawn I was outof London. I lost myself several times in the fog and twice had a rowwith a tramp or two. Then I took a train at a wayside station toGravesend, and crossed the river to Tilbury."

  "Didn't anyone ask questions?"

  Bernard shook his head. "The new Yeomanry uniform wasn't known in thoseparts. I expect the gaiters made people think I was a farmer. I took thetrain to Pitsea, and then came on here under cover of night. It was teno'clock by the time I got here."

  "What did you do in the meantime?"

  "I loafed about the taproom of a pub, and made out I was a horse-dealerbuying horses for the war. No one suspected me, and I managed to sustainmy part perfectly."

  "Did Mrs. Moon admit you at once?"

  "No. She was in bed. But when she came to the door she seemeddisinclined to admit me. I produced your letter, and after she read it,which took about a quarter of an hour, she let me in. Then next morningI wrote to you."

  "What made you think of this place, Bernard?"

  "I could think of nowhere to hide," said Gore, leaning back with a wearysigh. "And after all," he added, with a glance round, "this is a verygood _cache_."

  Conniston nodded. "You are quite safe here. I will show you the way tothe vaults, and should there be any chance of your being discovered youcan hide there."

  "Does Victoria know about the vaults?"

  "I can't say. Probably that Judas brat has told her. He was brought uphere, and knows every nook and cranny of the castle. And now, Bernard,we must have a good dinner, and then you can tell me whom you suspect ofcommitting the crime."