by G. A. Henty
CHAPTER X.
The funeral of Squire Thorndyke and Mr. Bastow was over, and allagreed they had never seen a more affecting spectacle than that at thechurchyard when the two coffins were brought in. The distance was short,and the tenants had requested leave to carry the Squire's bier, whilethat of Mr. Bastow was borne by the villagers who had known and lovedhim. Behind followed all the magistrates and a great number of thegentry for miles round; the churchyard was crowded by every man, woman,and child in the village, and the women, as well as many of the men,wept unrestrainedly as the coffins passed by. Besides these, a largenumber of people from Reigate and the surrounding villages were present,attracted rather by the crime that had caused the death than by theloss of the Squire himself. The church was crowded, and it was withdifficulty that Mr. Greg read the service. The Squire was laid bythe side of his father, Mr. Bastow in the spot where many of hispredecessors had slept before him.
Mark had been greatly affected, not only by his own loss, but by thesight of the general grief among those for whom the Squire had done somuch. Even Mr. Prendergast, who had taken part in many such functionsover departed clients, was much moved by the scene.
"I have been at many funerals," he said to Mark as they walked back tothe Hall, "but I never have been at one that so affected me. No monumentever raised, sir, did such credit to him who was laid beneath it as thetears of those simple villagers."
Mark did not reply; his heart was altogether too full to speak. As theyentered the house he said, "The ladies will have their lunch upstairs,Mr. Prendergast; we may as well have ours at once, and then you can callthem down if there is any business to be done."
"That will not take long," the lawyer said. "I have brought down thewills of both your uncle the Colonel, and your father, and I think thatit would be as well for me to read them both. That of your father isa very short and simple document, extending, indeed, only over a fewlines. Your uncle's is longer and more complicated, but as you are wellaware of the gist of it, it will take us but a short time to get throughit."
Mark took his meal in a perfunctory manner. For himself he would haveeaten nothing, but he made an effort to do so in order to keep his guestcompany. When it was over he said:
"We may as well go into the library at once, and I will send up for theladies. It is as well to lose no time, for I know that you want to catchthe afternoon coach up to town."
Mrs. Cunningham and Millicent joined them in a minute or two, the girllooking very pale in her deep mourning.
"I am about," Mr. Prendergast said quietly, "to read the wills ofColonel Thorndyke and Mr. John Thorndyke, and I will ask you, if thereis any phrase that you do not understand, to stop me, and I will explainto you its purport."
The three persons present were acquainted with the main provisions ofthe Colonel's will. It began by stating that, being determined that hisdaughter, Millicent Conyers Thorndyke, should not be married for hermoney, he hereby bequeathed to his brother, John Thorndyke, his estatein the parish of Crowswood, to be held by him until his daughterMillicent came to the age of twenty-one, or was married; if thatmarriage did not take place until she was over the age of twenty-one, solong was it to continue in John Thorndyke's possession, save and exceptthat she was, on attaining the age of twenty-one, to receive from it anincome of 250 pounds a year for her private use and disposal.
"To Jane Cunningham, the widow of the late Captain Charles Cunningham,of the 10th Madras Native Infantry, should she remain with my daughteruntil the marriage of the latter, I bequeath an annuity of 150 poundsper annum, chargeable on the estate, and to commence at my daughter'smarriage. All my other property in moneys, investments, jewels, andchattels of all sorts, is to be divided in equal portions between mydaughter, Millicent Conyers Thorndyke, and my nephew, Mark Thorndyke.Should, however, my daughter die before marriage, I bequeath the saidestate in the parish of Crowswood to my brother, John Thorndyke, for hislife, and after him to his son Mark, and to the latter the whole ofmy other property of all kinds, this to take effect on the death of mydaughter. Should my brother predecease the marriage or coming of age ofmy daughter, she is at once to come into possession of the said estateof Crowswood. In which case my nephew Mark and Mr. James Prendergast,of the firm of Hopwood & Prendergast, my solicitors, are to act as hertrustees, and Mrs. Jane Cunningham and the said James Prendergast as herguardians."
All this was, of course, expressed in the usual legal language, but thepurport was clear to those previously acquainted with its bearing, theonly item that was new to them being the legacy to Mrs. Cunningham. JohnThorndyke's testament was a short one. He left all his property to hisson Mark, with the exception of a hundred pounds to his niece to buy amourning ring or brooch or other ornament in memory of him, and fiftypounds to Mrs. Cunningham for a similar purpose, as a token of hisgreat esteem for her character, and 200 pounds to Ramoo for his faithfulservices to his brother and himself. When the lawyer had folded up thewills Millicent said:
"On my part, I have to say that I absolutely renounce the legacy of theestate in favor of my cousin Mark, who has always believed that it wouldbe his."
"And I as absolutely refuse to accept the sacrifice," Mark said.
"My dear young lady," Mr. Prendergast said quietly, "at present, at anyrate, you have no power whatever to take any action in the matter; youare, in the eye of the law, an infant, and until you come of age youhave no power to execute any legal document whatever. Therefore youmust perforce remain mistress of the estate until you attain the age oftwenty-one. Many things may happen before that time; for example, youmight marry, and in that case your husband would have a voice in thematter; you might die, in which case Mr. Mark Thorndyke would, withoutany effort on your part, come into possession of the estate. But, at anyrate, until you reach the age of twenty-one your trustees will collectthe rents of the estate on your behalf, and will hold the monies intrust for you, making, of course, such payments for your support andmaintenance as are fit and proper for your condition."
The tears came into Millicent's eyes as she resumed the seat from whichshe had risen, and she did not utter another word until Mr. Prendergastrose to leave.
"I shall doubtless learn your wishes as to the future, Miss Thorndyke,from your cousin," he said. "I hope that you will not cherish anymalice against me, and that when you think it over you will come to theconclusion that second thoughts are sometimes the wisest, and also thatyou should have some consideration for your father's wishes in a matterof this kind. He worked hard and risked his life to build up the fortunethat he has left. He evidently thought greatly of your welfare, and was,above all things, anxious to insure your happiness. I am sure that onthinking it over you will see that you should not thwart his wishes."
"My dear boy," he said to Mark, as they stood on the doorstep waitingfor the carriage to come round, "the best plan by far in this businesswould be for the interests of your cousin and yourself to be identical.She is a very charming young lady, a little headstrong in this matter,perhaps, but I do not think that that is altogether unnatural."
"That might have come about if it had not been for the property, Mr.Prendergast," Mark said, "but it cannot be now. If she and I had beenengaged before all this happened the case would have been different; butyou see yourself that now my lips are sealed, for it would seem as if Ihad not cared for her until she turned out to be an heiress."
"You are a silly young couple," the lawyer said. "I can only hope thatas you grow older you will grow wiser. Well, you had better come up andhave a talk with me about the assets your uncle mentions in his will."
"Then you don't know anything about them, sir?"
"Nothing at all, except as to the accumulations in his absence. Hementioned vaguely that he was a wealthy man. I thought that, as a matterof course, he had told his brother all about it."
"It is a curious business, sir, and I doubt if there will ever beanything besides the accumulations you speak of."
"Bless me, you don't say so! Well, well, I alway
s thought that it wasthe most foolish business that I ever heard of. However, you shall tellme all about it when you come up. I shall miss my coach unless I start."
So saying, he shook Mark's hand, took his place in the gig, and wasdriven away. Millicent did not come downstairs again that day.
"She is thoroughly upset," Mrs. Cunningham said, "and it would be bestto let her have her own way for a time. I think the sooner I can gether away from here the better. The house is full of sad memories, and Imyself feel shaken and in need of a change."
"I can quite understand her feeling and yours, Mrs. Cunningham. I dohope you will be able to disabuse her mind of the idea that I have anyshadow of feeling of regret that she instead of I has the estate, andplease try to work upon her on the ground of her father's wishes. Icould see that her face changed when Mr. Prendergast put the matterin that light, which I do not think had occurred to her before. I amthinking of going up to town in a couple of days; I was thinking ofdoing so tomorrow, but a day or so will make no difference. I proposethat you both go with me, and that I then help you look for a house.Even if you don't get one at once, a week in London will be a change,and you can then, if you like, go somewhere for a time. Of course Bathwould be too gay at present; but you might go to Tunbridge Wells, or, ifshe would like a seaside place, as she has never been near the sea sinceshe was a baby, that would be the greatest change for her. You might godown for a month or two to Dover or Hastings. There is no occasion foryou to settle down in London for a time. There is Weymouth, too, if youwould like it better. I believe that that is a cheerful place withoutbeing too fashionable."
"I think that will be an excellent plan," Mrs. Cunningham said.
"If you like I will drive you up to town, and the luggage can go by thecarrier; it is more pleasant than being shut up in a coach."
"Much more cheerful, of course."
"You will, of course, leave many of your things here, and the packingthem up will give her something to do, and prevent her from brooding."
"I think that is an excellent idea, Mark."
Late in the afternoon Ramoo came in in his usual silent manner. The manhad said but little during the past few days, but it was evident that hewas grieving deeply, and he looked years older than he had done beforethat fatal night.
"Of course, Ramoo, you will stay with me for the present. I hardly knowwhat I shall be doing for a time, but I am sure that until I settledown, Miss Conyers will be very glad to have you with her."
"No, sahib, Ramoo will return home to India. Ramoo is getting old; hewas thirty when he entered the service of the Colonel, sahib; he isfifty now; he will go home to end his days; he has saved enough to livein comfort, and with what the lawyer sahib told him your father has lefthim he will be a rich man among his own people."
"But you will find things changed, Ramoo, since you left; while here,you know, we all regard you as a friend rather than as a servant."
"You are all very kind and good, sahib. Ramoo knows that he will meet nofriends like those he has here, but he longs for the bright sun and bluesky of India, and though it will well nigh break his heart to leave theyoung missie and you, he feels that he must go."
"All right, Ramoo. We shall all be very sorry to lose you, but Iunderstand your longing to go home, and I know that you always feel ourcold winters very trying; therefore I will not oppose your wishes. Ishall be going up to town in two or three days, and will arrange to payyour legacy at once, and will inquire what vessels are sailing."
Millicent was unfeignedly sorry when she heard of Ramoo's determination;she was very fond of him, for when as a child she first arrived atCrowswood he had been her companion whenever the Squire did not requirehis services, and would accompany her about the garden and grounds,listening to her prattle, carrying her on his shoulder, and obeyingher behests. No doubt he knew that she was the daughter of his formermaster, and had to a certain extent transferred his allegiance from thesahib, whose life he had several times saved, to his little daughter.Still, she agreed with Mark that it was perhaps best that he should go.She and Mrs. Cunningham would find but little occasion for his serviceswhen established in London, and his swarthy complexion and semi-Easterncostume would attract attention, and perhaps trouble, when he wentabroad--the population being less accustomed to Orientals then than atpresent--but still less would they know what to do with him were theyfor a time to wander about. Mark said at once that so long as he himselfwas engaged in the task that he had set himself, he could not take Ramoowith him, and as for his staying alone in the house when it was only incharge of a caretaker, it was not to be thought of.
Although not inclined at the present time to agree with Mark inanything, Millicent could not but acknowledge that it were best thatRamoo should not be urged further to reconsider his determination, andshe also fell in with his proposal that they should go up to London fora week, and then go down to Weymouth for a time, after which they wouldbe guided by circumstances. Accordingly, two days later, Mark droveMillicent and Mrs. Cunningham up to London. A groom accompanied them onMark's favorite horse. This was to be left in town for his use, andthe groom was to drive the carriage back again. Comfortable rooms wereobtained in a quiet inn for the ladies, while Mark put up at the Bull,saying that he would come every day to take them out.
"Why did not Mark stay here, Mrs. Cunningham?" Millicent askedpettishly.
"I suppose he thought it better that he should not do so; and I own thatI think he was right."
"When we were, as we supposed, no relation to each other," Millicentsaid, "we could be like brother and sister. Now that we find that we arecousins we are going to be stiff and ceremonious."
"Not necessarily because you are cousins, Millicent. Before, you werehis father's ward, and under his father's care; now you are a young ladyon your own account. You must see that the position is changed greatly,and that what was quite right and proper before would not be at allright and proper now."
Millicent shrugged her shoulders.
"Oh, if Mark wishes to be distant and stiff he can certainly do so if helikes it. It makes no matter to me."
"That is not at all fair, Millicent, and very unlike yourself. Had notMark suggested his going to another inn, I should have suggested itmyself."
"Oh, yes; no doubt it is better," Millicent said carelessly. "He hasseveral friends in town, and of course we cannot expect him to bedevoting himself to us."
Mrs. Cunningham raised her eyebrows slightly, but made no answer.Millicent was seldom wayward, but at present things had gone very hardlywith her, and her friend felt that it would be better to leave herentirely to herself until her humor changed. In the morning, when Markcame round, Millicent announced that she felt tired with the drive ofthe previous day, and would prefer staying indoors. Mark looked a littlesurprised, more at the tone than at the substance of the words, for themanner in which she spoke showed that the excuse she had given was nother only reason for not going out.
"Of course, I shall stay at home too," Mrs. Cunningham said quietly, ashe glanced toward her inquiringly. "Millicent is unnerved and shaken,and perhaps it is just as well for her to have a day's complete rest."
"Very well, Mrs. Cunningham; then I will, as I cannot be of any use toyou, set about my own business for the day. I have already been roundto the lawyer's, and have got a check for Ramoo's legacy. He will be upthis afternoon, and I will go round to Leadenhall Street and find outwhat ships are sailing and when they start. I will come in this eveningfor a chat."
Millicent sat without speaking for some minutes after he had left theroom. Mrs. Cunningham, whose hands were always busy, took some work outof a bag and set to work at it industriously. Presently the girl said:
"What business is this that Mark is going to occupy himself in?"
"I do not know much about it," she replied. "But from a few words whichhe let drop I believe that he intends to devote himself to discoveringand hunting down your uncle's murderer."
The listless expression faded out at once of
Millicent's face.
"But surely, Mrs. Cunningham, that will be very dangerous work."
"No doubt it will be dangerous work, but I don't think that that islikely to hinder Mark. The man, whoever he may be, is of course adesperate character, and not likely to be captured without making afierce struggle for it."
"Then he ought to put the matter in the hands of the properauthorities," Millicent said decidedly. "Of course such men aredangerous. Very likely, this man may have accomplices, and it is notagainst one only that Mark will have to fight. He has no right to riskhis life in so desperate an adventure."
Mrs. Cunningham smiled quietly over her work. The Squire had oftenconfided to her how glad he would be if these two should some day cometogether. In that case the disclosure after marriage of the real factsof the case would cause no disturbance or difficulty. The estatewould be theirs, and it would not matter which had brought it into thepartnership; she had thoroughly agreed with him, but so far nothing hadoccurred to give any ground for the belief that their hopes would befulfilled.
Till within the last year Millicent had been little more than a child;she had looked up to Mark as she might have done to a big brother, assomething most admirable, as one whose dictum was law. During the lastyear there had been some slight change, but more, perhaps, on Mark'spart than on hers. He had consulted her wishes more, had asked insteadof ordered, and had begun to treat her as if conscious that she was fastgrowing up into womanhood.
Millicent herself scarcely seemed to have noticed this change. She waslittle more inclined to assert herself than before, but was ready toaccompany him whenever he wished her to do so, or to see him go awaywithout complaint, when it so pleased him; but the last week had made arapid change in their position. Millicent had sprung almost at a boundinto a young woman. She had come to think and resolve for herself; shewas becoming wayward and fanciful; she no longer deferred to Mark'sopinion, but held her own, and was capable of being vexed at hisdecisions. At any rate, her relations with Mark had changed rapidly, andMrs. Cunningham considered this little outburst of pettishness to be agood omen for her hopes, and very much better than if they had continuedon their old footing of affectionate cousins.
Mark went back again to the lawyer's, and had a long talk with Mr.Prendergast over the lost treasure. The old lawyer scoffed at the ideathat there could be any danger associated with the bracelet.
"Men in India, I suppose, get fanciful," he said, "and imbibe some ofthe native superstitions. The soldier who got them from the man whostole them was stabbed. He might have been stabbed for a thousandreasons, but he had the bracelet on his mind. He was forever hiding itand digging it up, and fancying that someone was on his track, and heput down the attack as being made by someone connected with it. Hismanner impressed your uncle. He concealed the diamonds or sent them offsomewhere, instantly. He never had any further trouble about them, butlike many men who have a craze, fancied that he was being perpetuallywatched and followed. The unfortunate result of all this is that thesejewels and the money that he accumulated during his service in Indiaseem to be lost. A more stupid affair I never heard of.
"Now, as to the clew, any reasonable man would have given fullinstructions as to how the treasure was to be found; or if he did notdo that, would, at least, instead of carrying about an absurd coin anda scrap of paper with a name upon it, have written his instructions andput them in that ridiculous hiding place, or, more wisely still, wouldhave instructed his solicitor fully on the subject. The amount oftrouble given by men, otherwise perfectly sane, by cranks and fanciesis astonishing. Here is something like 100,000 pounds lost owing to asuperstitious whim. As to your chance of finding the treasure, I regardit as small indeed. The things are hidden in India, in some old tomb, orother rubbishing place. Your uncle may have committed them to the chargeof a native; he may have sent them to a banker at one of the greattowns; he may have shipped them to England. He may have sent them tothe North Pole for anything I know. How can one begin to search theuniverse?"
"I thought, sir, that perhaps he might have sent them to some LondonBank or agent, with instructions to hold them until claimed by him, andthat perhaps an inquiry among such houses would lead to the discoverythat they hold certain property forwarded by him."
"Well; there is some sense in that suggestion," Prendergast grumbled,"and I suppose the first thing to be done will be to carry that out. Ifyou wish, we will do it for you. They would be more likely to give theinformation, if they possess it, to a well known firm of solicitors likeourselves than to any private individual. Besides, if you were to goyourself, they would in each case want you to be identified before theywould answer any question, whereas I should write a note to them in thefirm's name, with our compliments, saying that we should be glad to knowif the late Colonel Thorndyke, of whose will we are the executors, hadany account at their firm or has deposited any property in their hands.There are not above five or six banks doing business with India, andas many agents in a large way of business; and if he did such afoolish thing, he would be certain to do it with some houses of goodstanding--if, indeed, anything can be taken as certain in the case of agentleman with such extraordinary fancies and plans as his."
"Thank you, Mr. Prendergast," Mark said, with a slight smile at thelawyer's irritability; "that will be clearing the ground to a certainextent. If that does not succeed, I think I shall go to Indiamyself, and shall there make similar inquiries at all the principalestablishments at Calcutta and Madras. Should I fail there, it seems tome that the only remaining plan will be to find out from the militaryauthorities the place where my uncle's regiment was encamped on theday--we have the date on which the jewels were given to him--and toinstitute a minute search of all the old ruins within such a distance ashe might have reached within a day's ride."
"But you have no certainty that it was a ruin. He might have dug a holeunder his tent and have buried the things there; he might have taken ashovel and buried them in a clump of bushes a quarter of a mile away.The thing is more and more ridiculous the more you look at it."
"I see it is very difficult, sir, but one might narrow it down somewhatif one discovered the spot. Probably there are still native officers inthe regiment who were there at the time. If so, they might possibly knowwho was my uncle's servant at the time. The man may be a pensioner,and in that case I might discover his address through the militaryauthorities, and I could find out from him whether my uncle often rodeout at night, what were his habits, and possibly where the tent stood,and so on."
"Well," Mr. Prendergast said, "if you like to undertake a wild goosechase of this sort it is your business, and not mine; but I considerthe idea is the most Utopian that I ever heard of. As to where the tentstood, is it likely that a man would remember to within a hundred yardswhere a tent stood fourteen years ago? Why, you might dig up acres andacres of ground and not be sure then that you had hit upon the rightplace."
"There is one other circumstance, Mr. Prendergast," Mark said quietly,"that has to be taken into consideration, and which renders itimprobable that these diamonds were hidden anywhere by my unclehimself at that time. He certainly spoke of the whole of this treasurecollectively. It is morally certain that he would not carry all thesejewels that he had been collecting about with him, and certainly not histreasure in money. He must, therefore, have sent these diamonds to theperson, whoever he may be, who had the keeping of his other jewels andof his money. This certainly points to a bank."
"There is a sensible conjecture. Yes, there is something in that. Hecertainly could not have carried about him 50,000 pounds in gold andas much in jewelry; it would have been the act of a madman, and ColonelThorndyke, although eccentric and cranky, was not mad. But, on theother hand, he may have carried about a banker's passbook, or what isequivalent to it, for the amount that had been deposited with a nativebanker or agent, together with a receipt for the box containing thejewels, and this he might have hidden with the diamonds."
"I don't think that he would have done that; ther
e could have been noobject for his putting the power of demanding his money and valuablesout of his possession."
"Well, well," the lawyer said testily, "it is of no use arguing now whathe might or might not have done. A man who would have taken the troublethat he did to prevent his daughter knowing that she was an heiress, andfancied that he was followed about by black fellows, might do anything,reasonable or unreasonable, under the sun. At any rate, Mr. Thorndyke,I will carry out your instructions as to inquiries in London, and willduly inform you of the result; beyond that I must really decline to giveany advice or opinion upon the matter, which is altogether beyond me."
On leaving the lawyer's, Mark went to Bow Street, and related to thechief the circumstances attending his father's murder.
"I have heard them from the man I sent down at your request, Mr.Thorndyke, and taking the attempt early in the evening and thesubsequent murder, there can be no doubt that the affair was one ofrevenge, and not of robbery. Had the second attempt stood alone, robberymight have been the object; the mere fact that nothing was stolen inno way alters the case. Men are often seized with a certain panic aftercommitting a murder, and fly at once without attempting to carry outtheir original purpose. Your father, no doubt, fell heavily, and the manmight well have feared that the fall would be heard; but the previousattempt precludes the supposition that robbery was at the bottom of it.It points to a case of revenge, and certainly goes a very long way tosupport the theory that we talked over when I last saw you, that thehighwayman who endeavored to stop you on the road, whom you wounded,and who afterwards went down to Southampton, was the escaped convict,Bastow. Since that time I have had a man making inquiries along theroads between Reigate and Kingston, but altogether without success. Ishould be glad to follow up any other line that you might suggest, andthat might offer any reasonable possibility of success, but I must ownthat at present we are entirely off the scent."
"I am thinking of devoting myself entirely to the quest. I have nooccupation at present. I have an income amply sufficient for my wants,and for all expenses that I may incur, and I intend to devote, ifnecessary, some years of my life to hunting this man down. As your menhave searched without success in the country, I think for the present mybest plan will be to devote myself to learning something of the waysand haunts of the criminal classes of London, and it is with that objectthat I have come to you now. I should like, for some time, at any rate,to enter the detective force as an enrolled member. I should, of course,require no pay, but should be prepared to obey all orders and to do anywork required, as any other member of the corps would do. I am strong,active, and have, I hope, a fair share of intelligence. I should notmind risking my life in carrying out any duty that you might assign tome. I presume that I need not always be on duty, and could, when notrequired, employ my time as I liked, and keep up my acquaintances intown. Should it be otherwise, however, I am perfectly ready to submitmyself in all respects to your rule. I have a first rate horse andshould be available for country duty, wherever you might think fit tosend me. I should not desire any distinction to be made between me andthe paid officers."
"Your proposal is an altogether novel one, Mr. Thorndyke, but it isworthy of consideration. I have no doubt that you would make a veryuseful officer; the work is certainly interesting, though not withoutserious hazards. However, I will think the matter over, and if you willcall in tomorrow you shall have my answer. We are always glad to have anew hand in the force, for the faces of our men are so well known amongthe criminal class that they are liable to be detected even under thecleverest disguises. There is work, too, upon which it is absolutelynecessary that a gentleman should be employed, and in the event of yourjoining us, I should wish you to keep the matter strictly from all youracquaintances; and it would certainly be advantageous that you should,when disengaged, continue to mix with your friends and to mingle insociety of all kinds as freely as possible. There is crime among theupper classes as well as among the lower, though of a differenttype; and as Mr. Thorndyke of Crowswood you would have far betteropportunities of investigating some of these cases than any of my menwould have. You would not object to take up such cases?"
"Not at all, sir; that is, if it could be arranged that I should notdo the actual work of making an arrest, or have to appear in court as awitness."
"That could be managed," the chief said "When you have got to a certainpoint the matter of the final arrest could always be handed over tosomeone else, but as a rule we keep our officers in the background asmuch as possible, because at every trial the court is half full of menof the criminal class, and the faces of our men would soon be known toevery one of them. Well, if you will call about ten o'clock tomorrow youshall have my answer; but I should advise you to think the matterwell over before you see me again. The responsibilities as well as thedangers are great, and indeed in some of the work you would literallyhave to carry your life in your hand; and I can assure you that the taskyou would undertake is by no means a light one."
