by Fergus Hume
CHAPTER XVI
THE UNEXPECTED
Miss Berengaria's servants had been with her for a long time and wereall eminently respectable. She was--needless to say--very good to them,and they adored and obeyed her in quite a feudal manner. When at supperin the servants' hall--all old and all sedate--they might have been acompany of Quakers from the sobriety of their demeanor. The head of thetable was taken by the cook, and the foot by James the coachman. Thosetwo were married and were both fat, both devoted to Miss Berengaria, andboth rulers of the other servants. The coachman swayed the littlekingdom of domestics with his stout wife as queen.
On the very evening Miss Plantagenet came back from Cove Castle, theservants were enjoying a good supper, and James was detailing the eventsof the day. After this his wife narrated what had taken place during hisabsence. And at the side of the table sat Jerry, looking the picture ofinnocence, occupied with his bread and cheese, but taking everything in.The information conveyed to James by the cook related to several trampsthat had called, and to the killing of two fowls by a fox terrier thatbelonged to a neighbor.
"And a nice rage the missus will be in over them," said cook.
"You should have set Sloppy Jane on the terrier," said James. "Ourpoultry is prize birds and worth a dozen of them snappy dogs as bite theheels of respectable folk."
"Sloppy Jane was with me," said a sedate housemaid. "A tramp came to thegate asking for Miss Alice, and I couldn't get him away."
"What did he want with Miss Alice?" demanded James, aggressively.
"Ah, what indeed!" said the housemaid. "I told him Miss Alice wouldn'tspeak to the like of him. But he looked a gentleman, though he had a twodays' beard and was dressed in such rags as you never saw."
"Did he go, Sarah?"
"Oh, yes, he went in a lingering sort of way, and I had to tie Jane upin case she'd fly on him. I didn't want that."
"Why not?" said the coachman, dictatorially. "Tramps is tramps."
Sarah pondered. "Well, cook and James, it's this way," she said, withsome hesitation. "This murder of old Sir Simon--" Jerry pricked up hisears at this and looked more innocent than ever.
"Go on," said the cook, wondering why Sarah stopped.
"They said his grandson done it."
"And that I'll never believe," cried James, pounding the table. "A nobleyoung gentleman Mr. Bernard, and many a half-crown he's given me. Henever did it, and even if he did, he's dead and gone."
Sarah drew back from the table. "I really forgot that," she whimpered."It must have been his ghost," and she threw her apron over her head.
"What's that, Sarah? A ghost! There's no such thing. Whose ghost?"
"Mr. Bernard's," said Sarah, looking scared, as she removed her apron."Oh, to think I should have lived to see a ghost. Yes, you may all look,but that tramp, ragged and torn, was Mr. Gore. Don't I know him as wellas I know myself?"
"Sarah," said James, while the cook turned pale and Jerry listened moreeagerly than ever, "you rave in a crazy way."
"Oh, well, there's no knowing," cried Sarah, hysterically, "but thetramp was Mr. Gore, and I forgot he was dead. His ghost--it must havebeen his ghost. No wonder Jane wanted to fly at him."
"Mr. Bernard's ghost wanting to see Miss Alice!" said cook. "Get alongwith you, Sarah! He must be alive. I don't believe all the papers say.Perhaps he wasn't drowned after all."
"We must inquire into this," said James, magisterially and feeling forhis glasses. "Oh, by the way"--he drew a dirty envelope out of hispocket--"here's something for you, young shaver." He threw it across toJerry. "I was sitting in the kitchen in his lordship's castle and beingwaited on by a dark-eyed wench. I told her of us here and mentioned you.She said she knew you and asked me to give you that. And, to be sure,she would know you," added James, half to himself, "seeing Mrs. Moon isyour grandmother, and a fine figure of a woman. But touching this hereghost----"
Jerry rose from the table and retreated to a corner of the warm room toread his note. But he kept his ears open all the time to the coachman'sinvestigation of Sarah's doings with the tramp. The note was fromVictoria asking Jerry to come over and see her, and stating that therewas a gentleman stopping at the castle. "There's something queer abouthim, Jerry, as he keeps himself very much to himself. Also he knows yourwhistle as you whistles to me, which is funny. Can't you come over andsee me?" This, with all allowance for mis-spelling, was what Jerrydeciphered. Then he thrust the note into his pocket and returned to thetable.
"He had an awful cough, this tramp," said Sarah.
"Ghosts don't cough," remarked cook.
"This one did awful, and he looked that pale and thin as never was."
"He went away in broad daylight?" asked James.
"It was getting dark--about five maybe. I was sorry for him, and I wouldhave let him in to see Miss Alice, he seemed so disappointed."
"Ah, Sarah, it's a pity you didn't let him in."
"But, Mr. James, you can a-bear tramps."
"Or ghosts," added the cook, fearfully.
"It were no tramp and no spectre," said the coachman. "I see it all." Helooked solemnly round the company. "This was Mr. Bernard come to see ifMiss Alice will help him. He's alive, God be praised!"
"Amen," said the cook, bowing her head as though in church.
"And if he comes again, we will let him in and say nothing to thepolice."
"I should not," said Sarah; "he looked so sad and pale. Oh dear me! andsuch a fine, handsome young gentleman he was, to be sure."
"We will swear to be silent," said James, solemnly, "seeing as we areall sure Mr. Bernard never killed old Sir Simon."
"I'd never believe it if a jury told me," said the cook.
"Young Jerry, swear to be silent."
"Oh! I'm fly, Mr. James," said Jerry, easily; "but who is Mr. Bernard?and why did he kill Sir Simon?"
"He didn't, and he's the present baronet at the Hall, young Jerry. Youdon't chatter or I'll thrash you within an inch of your life."
"Oh, he won't talk," said the good-natured cook. "He's an angel."
Sarah snorted. She was not so impressed with Jerry's angelic qualitiesas the rest of the company. However, Jerry, who had his own reasons toretire, slipped away unostentatiously and read Victoria's letter for thesecond time. Then he talked to himself in a whisper.
"He's alive after all," he said, "and he's stopping at that castle. Idaresay the old girl"--he thus profanely described his mistress--"wentover to there to see him with Miss Alice. And they brought him back,dropping him on the way so that he could get into the house quietly. Heknows my whistle. No one but him could know it, as he heard me on thatnight. What's to be done? I'll go out and have a look round. He may comeback again."
Jerry was too young to be so exact as he should be. There were severalflaws in his argument. But he was too excited to think over these. Itnever struck him that Miss Plantagenet could have smuggled Gore easierinto the house by bringing him in her carriage after swearing James tosecrecy, than by letting him approach the house in the character of atramp. But it was creditable to the lad's observation that he so quicklyconjectured the mysterious stranger at the castle should be Bernard.Jerry knew that Conniston was a close friend of Gore's, and saw at oncethat Bernard had sought the refuge of the castle where he would remainundiscovered. But for Victoria's hint Jerry would never have guessedthis. It was his duty to communicate this knowledge to Beryl, but forreasons of his own connected with the chance of a reward or a bribe tohold his tongue, from someone who could pay better than Beryl--say LordConniston--Jerry determined to wait quietly to see how things would turnout. Meanwhile he strolled round to the fowls, where he thought itlikely the tramp--if he was a tramp--might come. If not a tramp he mightcome this way also as the easiest to enter the grounds.
The poultry yard was carved out of a large meadow by the side of thegardens. It ran back a considerable distance from the high road, and atthe far end was fenced with a thin
plantation of elms. Wire netting andstout fences surrounded the yard, and there was a gate opening on to themeadow aforesaid. Jerry hovered round these precincts watching, but hedid not expect any luck. However, the boy, being a born bloodhound,waited for the sheer excitement of the thing.
Now it happened that Miss Berengaria had left the house of a pair ofCochin fowls unlocked. She would have gone out to lock it herself butthat she was so weary. All the same, she would not delegate the duty toher servants, as she considered they might not execute the commissionproperly. Finally Alice offered to go, and, after putting on a thickwaterproof and a large pair of rubber boots which belonged to MissPlantagenet, she ventured out. Thus it was that she paddled round to theyard with a lantern and came into the neighborhood of Jerry. Thatsuspicious young man immediately thought she had heard of Bernard'scoming and had come out to meet him. He snuggled into a corner near thegate and watched as best he could in the darkness.
It was pouring rain, and the sky was black with swiftly-moving clouds.These streamed across the face of a haggard-looking moon, and in theflaws of the wind down came the rain in a perfect drench.
Alice, with her dress drawn up, a lantern in one hand and an umbrella ofthe Gamp species extended above her head, ventured into the yard, andlocked up the precious fowls. Then she came back round by the gate tosee if it was barred. To her surprise it was open. Rather annoyed sheclosed it again, and put up the bar. Then she took her way round by theside of the house to enter by the front door.
Jerry followed with the step of a red Indian. He was rewarded.
Just as Alice turned the corner of the house, she heard a groan, andalmost stumbled over a body lying on the flower-bed under the wall ofthe house. At first she gave a slight shriek, but before she could stepback the man clutched her feet--"Alice! Alice!" moaned the man. "Saveme!--it's Bernard."
"Bernard here," said Alice, with a shudder, and wondered how he had comefrom the castle. She turned the light on to his face, and then startedback. This was not Bernard.
In the circle of light she saw--and Jerry slinking along the side of thefence saw also--a pale, thin face with a wild look on it. The hair waslong and matted, there was a scrubby growth on the chin, and the eyeswere sunken for want of food. Still it was Bernard's face, and but thatshe had seen him on that very afternoon, she would have been deceived,until she had made a closer acquaintance with the tramp. But Alice,having heard the story of Mrs. Gilroy's son, knew at once that thismiserable creature was Michael. He was representing himself to her asBernard, and, mindful of Durham's advice, after the first start of alarmshe determined to treat him as though she believed he was her lover.
"Can you get to your feet?" she said, touching him, although her soulshuddered within her when she thought what the man had done.
"Yes," said Michael, hoarsely, and tried to rise.
She assisted him to his feet but his weight almost made her sink. "Imust get the servants," said she, trying to disengage herself.
"No! no!" said the man in a voice of hoarse terror. "They will give meup. Remember what I have done."
Alice did remember indeed, and shuddered again. But it was needful forthe clearing of Bernard that she should carry on the comedy so as todetain the man. A word from her, that she knew who he really was, and hewould fly at once--when all chance of saving Gore would be at an end.Therefore she half led, half dragged him round the corner of the housein the driving rain. Jerry waited till the two disappeared and the lastgleam of the lantern vanished. Then he went back to the kitchenunconcernedly.
"Where have you been?" asked James, sternly.
"Looking to see if the poultry gate was all right," said Jerry. "Yousee, Mr. James, a tramp might come in there."
"It was your duty to shut it."
"I have shut it," said Jerry, with assumed sulkiness.
"Now don't you give me your lip, young sir, or I'll knock your headoff--do you hear? Any tramps about?"
"No," said Jerry, mendaciously, "all's safe." And, with a wonderfulsense in a lad of his age, he said no more. Then he sat down to cardswith the cook, and never made a solitary mention of what was going onin the front of the house. As he quite expected, Miss Plantagenet neversent for any of the servants. "They'll manage the job themselves,"thought Jerry, playing cheerfully. When he retired to bed he had awonderful lot to think about, and more than ever he determined to watchwhich way the wind blew so as to make as much money out of hisknowledge as possible. Jerry was a marvellously precocious criminal andknew much more than was good for him. Miss Berengaria would havefainted--unaccustomed as she was to indulge in such weakness--had sheknown the kind of youth she sheltered under her roof.
But poor Miss Berengaria had her hands full. She left the front dooropen for the return of Alice, and heard it close with a bang. At onceshe started from her seat before the fire in the drawing-room to rebukethe girl for such carelessness, but her anger changed to astonishmentwhen Alice appeared at the door streaming with wet and supporting a man."Aunt!" cried Alice, dropping the man in a heap and eagerly closing thedoor. "Here's Bernard!"
"Bernard!" exclaimed Miss Plantagenet, staring.
"Yes, yes!" said Alice, passing over and pinching her aunt's arm. "Seehow pale he is and hungry. He escaped, and has come for us to save him.If the police----"
The man on the floor, who was in a half stupor, half rose. "Thepolice--the police!" he said thickly, and his wild eyes glared. "No. Iwill confess everything. Alice, I am--I am--" He dropped again.
By this time Miss Plantagenet, accepting the hint of Alice's pinch, wasbeginning to grasp the situation. She scarcely relished having amurderer under her roof, but for the sake of Bernard she felt that shealso must aid in the deception. But she could not conceive how Michaelcould have the audacity to pass himself off as Bernard to one who knewhim so intimately as Alice. At the same time, she saw the wonderfullikeness to Gore. He and Michael might have been twins, but Michael hadnot the mole which was his brother's distinguishing mark. Still, unlessMichael knew all about Bernard's life, unless he was educated like him,unless he knew his ways and tricks and manners, it was impossible thathe should hope to deceive Alice or even Miss Berengaria herself.
Also there was another thing to be considered. How came the man in thisplight? He had received one thousand pounds from Sir Simon in thebeginning of October, and therefore must have plenty of money. Yet herehe was--thin, haggard, in squalid rags, and evidently a hunted fugitive.It was not a comedy got up to deceive them, for both women saw that theman really was suffering. He was now lying in a stupor, but, for allthat, he might have sense enough to know what they said, so both werecautious after a glance exchanged between them.
"We must take Bernard up to the turret-room," said Miss Berengaria,promptly. "He'll be all right to-night and then we can send for Payneto-morrow. Help me with him, Alice."
"But, aunt, the servants--"
"They will hold their tongues. I'll see to that."
"Bless you," murmured the half stupefied man. "I can't thank youfor--Oh! if you only knew all! I want to tell you something."
"Never mind just now," said the old lady, sharply. "Try and get up thestairs supported by Alice and myself. Then we'll put you to bed and giveyou something to eat."
"Will I be safe?" asked the man, looking round anxiously.
"Quite safe. Do you think I would let you be taken, Bernard?" saidAlice, although her soul sickened in her at the deception.
"I--trust--you," said Michael, with a strange look at her. "I am ill anddirty, and--and--but you know I am Bernard," he burst out in a pitifulkind of way.
"Yes, of course you are. Anyone can see that," said Miss Berengaria, asAlice didn't answer. "Help him up, Alice."
The two dragged the man up the stairs painfully, he striving his best tomake his weight light. Miss Berengaria approved of this. "He's got goodstuff in him," she said, when they led him into the small room, whichtook up the whole of the second floor of the turret.
"He always had," said Alice
, warmly, and for the sake of the comedy.
But Miss Berengaria frowned. She applied what she said to Michael.
Then Miss Berengaria sent Alice downstairs to heat some wine, and madeMichael go to bed. He was as weak as a child, and simply let her do whatshe liked. With some difficulty she managed to put him between thesheets, and then washed his face and hands. Finally, on Alice returningwith the wine and some bread, she fed him with sops of the latter dippedinto the former. After this, as Michael displayed symptoms ofdrowsiness, she prepared to leave him to a sound sleep. "And Payne shallsee you to-morrow."
"But I'll be safe--safe," said the sick man, half starting up.
"Of course. Lie down and sleep."
Michael strove to say something, then sank back on his pillows. The twohurried out of the room and down the stairs feeling like conspirators.Not until they were safe in the drawing-room with the door closed didthey venture to speak, and then only did so in whispers. Alice was thefirst to make a remark.
"If I hadn't seen Bernard this very day, I should have been deceived,aunt. Did you ever see so wonderful a likeness?"
"Never," admitted Miss Berengaria. "But how the deuce"--she was always alady given to strong expressions--"does the man expect to pass himselfoff to you as Bernard? There's lots of things Bernard has said aboutwhich he must know nothing."
"I can't understand it myself. Perhaps he came to tell the truth."
"Humph!" Miss Berengaria rubbed her nose. "I don't think a man who wouldcommit a murder would tell the truth. My flesh creeped when I touchedhim. All the same, there's pluck in the fellow. A pity he is such ascamp. Something might be made of him."
"Do you think he has got himself up like this to--"
"No, no!" snapped Miss Plantagenet, "the man's illness is genuine. I cansee for myself, he's only skin and bone. I wonder how he came to be insuch a plight?"
"Perhaps he will tell us."
"He'll tell lies," said the old lady, grimly. "And for the sake ofBernard we'll pretend to believe him. Wait till I get Durham on to him.He won't lie then. But the main point is to keep him. He is the onlyperson who can get Bernard out of the trouble."
"What shall we do, aunt?"
"Nurse him up in that room, telling the servants that we have a guest.They need not see him. And Payne can cure him. When he is cured we willsee what Durham says. That young man's clever. He will know how to dealwith the matter. It's beyond me. Now we must go to bed. My head is in awhirl with the excitement of this day."
