CHAPTER XVII
BALMAYNE'S WARNING
In the market-place of Caryngston Dr. Balmayne met the vicar, a sturdy,rosy-faced man with a face like a jocund choir-boy.
"Hallo!" was the clerical greeting. "How have you been keeping all thisawful weather? Going to thaw, though, now."
"Pretty well," replied Balmayne, who had stopped his car to purchase akeg of petrol at the local store. "Get in and I'll put you down at thevicarage."
Nothing loth, Mr. Lomas took his seat beside him. He was a sociableperson, always eager for news, and with the exception of his vicaragefull of nurslings, the doctor was his only associate, at least duringthe winter months.
One of the best and most simple-minded of men, he had nevertheless acurious taste for horrors, and found his keenest enjoyment in perusingthe detailed reports of murder cases in the daily papers, or unravellingthe tales of Arsene Lupin, Sherlock Holmes, and so on. A collection oftrue stories of celebrated _crimes passionels_ related by a well-knownauthor had lately delighted him, and he began to talk of it almostimmediately.
"You know, Balmayne, it is positively unsettling to read a book likethat," he said. "The thing it brings home to you is that people arehardly ever what they seem. Picture to yourself a young girl, living inher father's house, simple, dutiful, giving up an undesirable lover at aword of parental entreaty, engaging herself most suitably, universallyesteemed among even the strict Presbyterian circle she moved in, and sheturns out to be----"
"Well, what does she turn out to be?"
"To have been secretly the mistress of the man she professed to havegiven up, and, furthermore, to be his murderess."
"It was never proved against her, was it?" asked the doctor.
"It was not; and there were many at the time in Edinburgh who believedher innocent; but she was convicted of enough, even without the murder.She was shown to have been without moral sense. Fancy a young girl whocould engage herself to a good man, while all the time concealing thatengagement from her paramour to whom she was continuing to sendpassionate letters! Isn't it inconceivable?"
"I should have thought to a priest, as to a doctor, there is very littlethat is inconceivable. This world is an odd place, and there are oddpeople in it."
"You're right there, and talking of odd people, Mrs. Askwith has justtold me quite an exciting piece of news, though I expect you have heardit. She says that the Guyses have at last engaged another girl to go ascompanion up at the Pele!"
"Yes, your news is no news to me, Vicar. I was up there two days back,and am going again to-day, as Mrs. Guyse is not quite the thing."
"And you have seen the young lady?"
"And I have seen the young lady."
"Indeed! Indeed! And how does she impress you?"
"Very favourably. She seems all right so far. They have told hernothing about Miss Martin."
"Ah, um!" The vicar made little ruminating sounds as he turned thisover in his mind. "Talk of mysteries," he remarked at length; "there,my dear Balmayne, is a thing to puzzle you! As queer as anything inthis book, staggering though some of these undoubted facts are. Willthat affair ever be explained, do you suppose?"
"I don't think there is much mystery there. What is it that strikes youas so mysterious?"
"My good fellow, we have discussed it a hundred times! The girl'sdeparture, the way the thing was hushed up----"
"It seems fairly clear to me, as I have always told you. Young Guysepays the girl to keep quiet."
"But why? Why should he do so?"
"Because he didn't want her to talk, of course."
"Then you really think----"
"Mrs. Baxter told me that all the time she was delirious she kept onrepeating to herself, 'Lily Guyse, Mrs. Guyse.' There is no doubt thathe had promised her marriage, there was a wedding-ring round her neck.All that story of the ayah's about her getting letters from London wasconcocted. They said she burnt the letters, and I never saw one, orheard of anybody except the ayah who saw one. If the thing had comeinto court the postman would have been called, and it would have beenexposed, but, you see, it did not come into court. Of course, Suniawould swear that black was white in order to screen Guyse; an utterlyuntrustworthy witness. His mother knew, I am convinced of that."
"His mother knew?"
"Undoubtedly. She never liked Ninian, but she has hated him since then.I fancy she would have taken the girl back on her own terms--even asNinian's acknowledged wife. She liked her well enough, and her lifesince she was alone has been anything but amusing. Guyse has theimpudence to declare that he does not know where the girl is, and hasnever heard of her since she left. But that is a bit too thin. No, inmy opinion it was a lucky thing for that young man that poor Miss Martindidn't succeed in her attempt; an inquest would have been embarrassing.But the hush money is evidently a drain upon him. He ought not to be sofrightfully hard up as he evidently is. He makes a clear profit on hisfarming, and they are not without means, though they lost a big amount.Well, his dismal experience may have taught him wisdom. He will be theless likely to start philandering with Miss Innes."
"It seems to me an imprudent arrangement," remarked the vicar in atroubled voice. "Here is a man who can't afford to marry at all unlesshe marries a fortune. They import into that lonely house a girl, youngand presumably attractive, but so poor that she must work for herliving. What else is there for Guyse to do but flirt? Shut up with herday after day, it must be hard to help it!"
"But what can one do?" said Balmayne musingly. "Would it be possible towarn her? I think she is a girl of character--quite a different typefrom that other. If she knew what sort Guyse is, she would be safeenough."
"Then I am inclined to think you ought to give her a hint. I don't likeit, Balmayne."
"It's so hard to say anything at all without saying too much."
"It is. I see that--and you are a young man yourself. If Wilfrid wereat home I could speak to him, but Ninian is the kind of chap who thinksit clever to be rude if you say anything he doesn't like."
"Wilfrid was a good deal cut up by that Lily Martin episode."
"No wonder! A nice thing to come back from Klondyke--where he hadreally been risking his life to mend the family fortunes--and to findout what had been going on in his absence. Of course, they hoped that,as the girl got well and departed, nothing would come out. But itdid--it did!"
"Inevitably, I suppose," replied Balmayne; "but I can honestly say itdidn't get about through me."
"Who told the Kendalls?" said the little vicar shrewdly. "My wife iscertain that Rose Kendall meant to marry Ninian. It was practically asettled thing, and Metcalfe told me she has thirty thousand pounds."
"I suppose Wolf is not likely to be coming home just yet?"
"Can't possibly come as long as Parliament is sitting. He took a fewdays' leave at Christmas, you know."
"Now if it were he with whom a girl was thrown every day and all daylong, warnings would be fruitless," remarked Balmayne smiling. "Anygirl alive would fall in love with Wolf if she got the chance."
"If I were to write to him," suggested the vicar tentatively. "Ofcourse, I don't mean ostensibly. I do write to him from time to time.Say I am sending back the book he lent me, and am interested to hearthat his mother has a new companion--that her presence will do much towipe out unpleasant rumours or memories, eh?"
"Do you think that he doesn't know of the new arrangement, then?"
"I can't say."
"It was by his advice that they tried the plan before," said Balmaynethoughtfully. "He may have urged it afresh when he came home atChristmas and saw how depressed and unwell his mother was. A pity hedidn't insist upon its being somebody middle-aged. But I suppose hethought that might be more depressing than nobody at all."
"Well, if you get a chance," concluded the vicar, as the car stopped athis gate, "I should put in a word; but be careful. The Guyses are avery old family, and t
his old blood does curious things. Generally abit mad, these high-bred, thin-blooded chaps."
"You surely don't call Mrs. Guyse blue-blooded? She ought to haveimported a good sane middle-class strain to replenish the old stock."
"Ah, true. Will you come in and see Ada?"
"No, thanks, I've got a pneumonia case, and I want to get up to the Pelethis afternoon. Mrs. Lomas all right, I hope?"
"Yes, yes, capital. When I've finished 'Celebrated Murder Mysteries'I'll lend it to you," went on Mr. Lomas in a burst of friendship, "but Ihaven't read it all yet. However, bear in mind that nothing is reallyimprobable. The young lady at the Pele can't be too careful. I don'tknow why exactly, but I shouldn't care for a daughter of mine to bethere. I've heard it said that Mrs. Guyse is a bit queer in the headsince their financial crash; and the foreign woman is almost the onlyservant they have. Safe or not, it can't be comfortable there for ayoung lady, it really can't."
"Miss Innes seemed all right when I saw her last. However, I will makeparticular inquiry to-day. When the weather breaks, you must make aneffort and take Mrs. Lomas to call at the Pele. I'll motor you up.Poor old Reed (the vicar of Guysedale) won't be able to get there formonths."
"A broken Reed, eh?" said Mr. Lomas, and the doctor glided away leavinghim chuckling at his own joke. Like most people with no sense ofhumour, the vicar dearly loved a joke.
Upon reaching the Pele that afternoon the doctor was shown into thebanqueting-hall.
The master of the house sat smoking by a good fire, and the furniture ofthe room was in some disorder, as if in process of rearranging. Thegreeting Balmayne received was less hostile than usual, though it couldnot be described as cordial.
"Thanks, my mother seems much better. Convalescent, in fact; I'll letMiss Innes know that you are here." He went to the door, opened it andclapped his hands. Then he was heard telling the ayah who had answeredthe summons to say that the doctor had arrived.
Miss Innes appeared at once and invited Balmayne to Madam's room. Hewas altogether satisfied with his patient, and quite willing that sheshould be brought downstairs if it could be managed.
When they had left the sick chamber and were passing through theadjoining sitting-room, he said to the girl, "I should like a fewminutes talk with you."
She stopped. "It had better be here, then," said she in a low voice,"for on the stairs or in the hall we shall be overheard. The Hinduwoman cannot be cured of listening behind the arras; I think she looksupon it as part of her duties. However, she can hear nothing throughthis door."
He hesitated. What he had to say would need some adroitness, in orderthat it might sound not too serious, yet important enough to be heeded.He felt it impossible to begin.
He smiled. "To blurt out what I want to say in cold blood is not easy,yet I think I may be sorry afterwards if I have failed to give you ahint----"
"Yes?" Her heart throbbed apprehensively.
"Have you heard anything--I think you told me that you had not--aboutMiss Martin?"
She flushed, but her answer came swiftly. "Thanks, Dr. Balmayne, butsince I last saw you I have heard what I suppose to be the whole story;and--and shall you think me wrong if I say that I feel it a subjectwhich does not concern me, and which I ought not to discuss?"
"I shall certainly think you wrong in the sense of being mistaken," heanswered quietly. "In my opinion the matter does concern you. Whatyoung Guyse did once he may do again. Of course, that sad affair mayhave taught him caution; but it does not seem to me fair that you shouldnot be put on your guard."
"You think Mr. Guyse was to blame?" she asked as indifferently as shecould; but by the glance the doctor gave her she knew that he wasdisagreeably surprised.
"So you are already a partisan?" he asked with a smile, taking up hishat.
Olwen coloured, surprised herself at the desire to champion Nin of whichshe could not but be conscious. "You jump very swiftly to conclusions,"said she steadily. "My point of view is, that as I do not mean to remainhere, there is no need for me to pry too closely into the Guyse familyrecords." She added with a smile, "Mr. Guyse recommended me to hearyour side of the story. He said I was to put yours and his together andsee what they came to. But, please, I think I would rather not. Theknowledge of what befell my predecessor is enough warning, it seems tome----"
She broke off, for a sharp tapping at the door announced that Nin wasoutside. With a shrug of her shoulders and a backward glance ofamusement she went and admitted him.
"Well, what's the verdict? May I bring her down? he demanded, entering.
"Oh!" Balmayne pulled himself together. "Mrs. Guyse? Yes, certainly Ithink so."
"Wait a minute, just let me give the finishing touches," cried Olwen,hastening back into the sick-room.
Mrs. Guyse was sitting well wrapped up in an armchair. Her eyes restedcuriously upon the girl. "Been having a talk to the doctor?" she askedexpressionlessly.
"Yes, but Mr. Guyse is inconsiderate enough to interrupt! He is soimpatient to get you downstairs that he has come up to fetch you! Nowthe comb for a minute! Your hair has got rumpled! There, now you arequite beautiful! If I just put on your shawl----"
Mrs. Guyse's features twisted themselves curiously. She was like oneovercome by an access of remorse. "Don't let yourself be taken in," shemumbled under her breath; "what do you suppose Nin cares if I am up ordown, alive or dead?"
Olwen paused. She was not certain of many things concerning Ninian, butshe was convinced that he had a real affection for his mother, anaffection daily wounded by her dislike of him.
"He doesn't like me to be upstairs because it takes you away from him,"continued Madam with a spiteful smile. "You see, you take a differentview of your duty from what Lily Martin did."
"Don't talk nonsense," laughed Olwen. She was so sure that Ninian wasin no danger from her own attractions that she could afford to makelight of the invalid's malice. "Now, Mr. Guyse," she went on, throwingopen the door, "Madam is quite ready."
Ninian went in, lifted his mother carefully and brought her into thesitting-room where Dr. Balmayne was still standing. Some unamiableimpulse caused the lady to give the doctor a cordial invitation toremain to tea. He accepted very readily, and Olwen saw Ninian's browscontract as he carefully edged out of the narrow doorway in such a wayas not to inconvenience his burden.
Madam complained a little as he moved slowly and steadily down thespiral stair. He made no reply, but went on as though she had notspoken, finally setting her down, in the glow of the firelight, upon thecouch which he had brought into the house not two hours previously, andwhich Olwen had just covered with mattress cushions from thedining-room, supplemented with pillows, of which Sunia had an unlimitedsupply.
"Now," said Olwen quite eagerly as they laid Madam down, "you must tellus just how you like to be; the back lets down or can be raised as youwish." Between them it was adjusted to her complete satisfaction,Ninian raising her in his arms while Olwen slipped the back rail intoits appropriate niche. Balmayne stood watching the domestic intimacy ofthe scene, and his thoughts were grave.
Mrs. Guyse was evidently pleased with the new arrangement. As they hadplaced her, she could not see the oriel window at all. The high back ofthe settle screened it from her, and a little table stood convenientlybeside her for her endless knitting.
Sunia now brought up tea, and Olwen poured it out.
"Fancy," said Madam to Balmayne, "Miss Innes reads aloud so well that Iquite enjoy it. I always hated to be read to, but the story she isreading is so amusing that I am quite longing to hear the rest. I havebeen thinking about it all day, and it cheers me up."
"That's the very thing you want," said the doctor heartily. "Miss Inneswill do you more good than my medicine."
"Yes, but I am afraid she is not going to stay," replied Madam with awrinkle of her brows.
"Rubbish!" broke in Ninian; "she only said that because I ragged her andshe got a bit riled. However, I'm a reformed charac
ter now, and I runher errands like Mary's lamb. Been to Raefell station and back to-dayalready for my lady."
"That's right, boast!" said Olwen scornfully. "Shall I put an extralump of sugar in your tea, a reward for a good boy?"
"Put it in my mouth instead--a reward for a good dog," he answered,grinning till the whole of his splendid row of sharp white teeth weredisplayed.
The demon of coquetry which sleeps in every woman prompted the girl tofall in with his mood just because of the presence of Dr. Balmayne. Shelaid the sugar on his sleek black head, her finger upheld. "Trust,"said she absurdly. He sat immovable, his eyes long and eloquent underhalf-closed lids fixed steadily upon hers. "Paid for," she cried in ahurry, and he jerked his head, caught the sugar in his hands and ate it.
"The finger flavour," he remarked, "is excellent and very noticeable.What is that stuff which Sunia uses in her ministrations? Subtle butquite perceptible."
"You're atrocious," she said with a spurt of anger, swiftly neutralisedas she caught his merry eye. "That is, I suppose you are behaving aswell as you can, so we must make allowances."
He turned to the doctor. "Miss Innes is beginning my education," hesaid. "I feel sure it'll take longer than a month; don't you agree?"
The Lonely Stronghold Page 17
