“The king used to visit the family here. One theory says that he entrusted Lansdale with the keeping of the coins, which had almost a mystical significance for him by that time.”
“And these are the coins?” John asked, awed.
“Some of them, I’m sure of it. If you had all thirty the set might be worth – oh, anything up to a hundred thousand pounds.”
Neither of them could say a word. With that money – or even half the sum – they were saved, the Grange was saved, and the villagers were saved.
Yet that hope was still a distant dream.
“But even seven must be worth something,” John was almost pleading. “If thirty are worth a hundred thousand, then seven must be worth about twenty three.”
“I’m afraid not. The value lies in the completeness of the set. Separately each of these coins might be worth about five hundred pounds.”
Three and a half thousand pounds. Not nearly enough to do all that needed to be done. The disappointment was severe.
“But we may yet find the others,” Adolphus’ voice was encouraging.
“No, Wyngate has them,” John said despondently. “He saw us digging there last night, and today we found the place turned over. Whatever was there, he’s taken.”
“May I ask how he comes to be involved in all this?” Adolphus asked in a quiet voice that made Rena look at him.
“He wants me for his daughter,” John said bitterly. “He would have preferred a Duke, but I’ll do if necessary. He sees my impoverished state, and he is determined to move in, spreading his money irresistibly wherever he goes.”
“Ah yes,” Adolphus murmured. “That was always his way.”
“You know him?” John asked.
It seemed at first as though Adolphus would not answer this. He stared bleakly at the floor, as though crushed by a burden too great for words. But at last he raised his head, and said, as though the words were torn from him,
“He is my son.”
John started up in astonishment. “Adolphus, he can’t be. Why, the man’s as evil as sin – “
“Let him be,” Rena said quietly. “It is true.”
Adolphus gave her a faint smile. “You knew at once, didn’t you?”
“When you appeared this morning, I thought it was his double. You are shaped so alike. It’s an unusual shape. And you were so far off I couldn’t see details of your face, although your head is like his too.”
“Why that’s it,” said John suddenly. “I’ve been trying to think who Wyngate reminds me of, and it’s you.”
Adolphus nodded, “Not in features, so much, although we both have slightly large heads. It’s more in the shape of our bodies.”
“That’s what I saw this morning,” said Rena. “And I was so scared of him, and in such a fretful state, that I fancied he had managed to turn himself into two men. That’s why I screamed.”
“How rude of me to have frightened you, my dear.”
“I’m not scared now that I can see you close. But then I had such wild fancies. I began to run to the house, but I looked back to see you walking towards each other. Then you just vanished.”
“Rena told me about it,” said John, “and I went to see for myself. But there was nobody there.”
“I couldn’t see how you could have reached the trees so quickly,” said Rena.
“Because my son was determined to get me out of sight as fast as he could,” Adolphus replied. “He had no idea that I was there until you screamed, and he turned and saw me.
“It is fifteen years since we last saw each other, and longer than that since we spoke. But he knew me, as I knew him. He wasn’t pleased. He hates me as much as I – dread him.
“He came up to me, snarling even before he spoke. ‘What the devil do you think you’re doing here? Have you come to plague me and cast a blight over me?’ He didn’t wait for my answer, but seized my arm and dragged me to the trees.
“When we were hidden he said, ‘Go away from here and don’t come back.’”
He fell silent.
“Whatever did you say to him?” Rena asked.
“Nothing. I merely looked at him in silence. He took a step back from me, raised his arm as if to ward me off, and cried, ‘Stay away from me. Don’t come near.’ Then he turned and walked quickly away.”
“You’re not safe,” said John at once. “He will harm you as he has harmed others.”
“No, my dear boy,” Adolphus said gently. “He will do me no harm. He will rant and rave, but he will never touch me. He fears me too much for that.”
“Wyngate fears nobody,” said John.
“You are wrong. There is always some force to be feared, something stronger than ourselves.”
“I don’t understand how such a man can be born of such a father,” said John, brooding.
“I too used to wonder about that. Jane, my dear wife, never knew the worst of him. I used to hide it from her.
“Franklin – that is his real name: Franklin Tandy – was our only child, and she adored him. I couldn’t bear to see her heart broken and so I covered up his crimes – childish pranks I called them, although I knew then in my heart that it was much worse.
“He enjoyed hurting helpless creatures. Pulling the wings off insects was nothing to him, he did far worse. once saw him kill a kitten by breaking its neck, right in front of the child who owned it. Then he laughed at the child’s tears.” Adolphus sighed. “He was about seven when he did that.”
“Thank God his mother died when he was eighteen, before the depths of him had been revealed. He was at her deathbed, sobbing, and within an hour of her death he had sold her favourite necklace to pay a gambling debt.
“As he grew older he grew worse. He seduced women and abandoned them. He cared for nothing and nobody but himself, his own pleasure, his own chance to make money.
“Money. That was his god. I saw it but could do nothing about it. Finally he made the country too hot to hold him. He was clever with figures and he went to work for a financier. The man liked him, took him into his family. He thought Franklin was an orphan.
“Then he died in mysterious circumstances. My son came to me in tears and threw himself on my mercy. He swore the death had been an accident, begged me to help him get away. God forgive me, I allowed myself to be persuaded for the sake of his mother’s memory.
“I gave him enough money to get to Liverpool, and from there he sailed for America. A friend went with him and saw him aboard, otherwise I would never have known, because he has never sent me word of himself since.
“Still I deluded myself that he was essentially innocent. But then it was discovered that the dead man’s widow and children had been left destitute. The money that should have provided for them had vanished.
“In America he made such a name for himself as a ruthless financier and railway entrepreneur that his legend became known over here.”
“But how did you know that Jeremiah Wyngate was Franklin Tandy?” asked Rena.
“My wife had a great grandfather called Wyngate, a character so rough and unpleasant that tales of him reached down four generations. Of course he was the one Franklin admired. He must have felt safe enough taking his name. He was thousands of miles away from anyone who could have made the link.
“But I knew. Whenever tales of Jeremiah Wyngate’s cruelty reached this country, I recognised my son.”
The old man dropped his head into his hands and wept.
Instantly they were beside him. John, the frank and open-hearted man, took the old man into his arms and soothed him.
“Forgive me,” Adolphus said, wiping his eyes. “I am unused to a sympathetic audience. I spend my life alone, these days. I find it hard to go out among my fellow man, because of my guilt.”
“You bear no guilt,” said John robustly.
“I think I do. I am guilty of having shielded him when I should have handed him over to the law. When I think of how many lives he’s smashed and ruined since then my guil
t is heavy indeed.
“But more than that, I feel guilty at having brought this creature into the world, and made the world a worse place.”
“Did you know that he was here?” asked Rena.
“Not until after I had arrived in the village. I came at first for the pleasure of seeing John again, and helping him solve the mystery of these coins. It was only after I reached here that I sensed the stain that creature leaves wherever he goes.
“And then I heard that his daughter was with him – ”
“The daughter that you used to watch in the park,” said Rena, smiling.
“That’s right. When I heard that he’d returned to London I couldn’t bring myself to go and see him. It was better not to revive the past. But I used to watch his house sometimes, and I saw the little girl come out with her governess. I guessed who she was because she had a slight resemblance to Jane. That was how I knew I had a grand daughter.”
“She remembers seeing you,” said Rena. “I’m sure she’ll be glad to meet you properly.”
“I don’t think that man will allow that. He was very determined to get rid of me when he saw me this morning.”
“Why didn’t you come to the house when he’d gone?” asked John.
“You can never be quite certain when he has gone,” said Adolphus. “I waited a long time out there in the grounds, and I saw a young woman and a young man arrive. Was she – ?”
“Yes, that’s Matilda,” said Rena, “and the splendid young man with her is Cecil. They’re in love and they want to marry, if they can escape her father.”
“Heaven help them!” said Adolphus. “Or maybe they need some help a little closer to home. Does my son know about him?”
“He knows that he exists,” said Rena, “and he’s done everything he could to separate them, including having him dreadfully beaten by thugs. But he doesn’t know that he’s here now.”
Something in her voice made Adolphus look at her closely. “When you say ‘here’ – ?”
“Here,” said Rena. “In this house. We’re hiding him upstairs.”
“Well done, my dear.”
“But it doesn’t really help, does it?” she said. “Matilda asked us to allow Mr Wyngate to come here, so that she could come too, but where is it all going to end?”
“Badly, I’m afraid,” Adolphus said sombrely. “I was watching as you all went up the tower. I couldn’t hear what he said, but I saw his manner of saying it.
“And the devil took him up into a high place, and showed him the kingdoms of the world, and said all these will I give to thee, if thou wilt fall down and worship me.”
“Yes,” John said grimly. “That’s just how it was. All the kingdoms of the world. He thinks they’re his to give or withhold.”
Adolphus was silent for a while. Then he said heavily, “I wonder if you’re aware of his latest tactic. The rumour is going around the village that his money is being poured into this place, and of course everyone is rejoicing.”
John groaned and dropped his head into his hands.
“How do I face them and tell them it won’t happen?” he said. “In fact how do I fight Wyngate? What do you do with a man who doesn’t understand the word ‘no’.”
“It’s very simple,” Adolphus said gently. “We pray for a miracle.”
*
Next morning Rena introduced Adolphus to Cecil and had the pleasure of seeing that the two men liked each other.
“He’s a fine young man,” Adolphus confided to Rena. “Brave and hard working. He showed me some of his scars from the beating. My goodness if he wasn’t put off by that then he’s very much in love with her.”
After breakfast he asked to be shown the place where the cross had stood and the coins had been found. John and Rena took him down to the woods to the place where the great ugly hole was still visible, and he looked at it for a long time, murmuring, “Hmm!”
Then, with a strength that belied his years, he got down and rooted around in the earth, finally getting to his feet, gasping and brushing himself down.
“And you say he was watching you?”
“I’m certain of it,” Rena said.
“Then there won’t be anything left here. That’s his way. What became of the cross?”
They showed it to him lying on the ground, and he immediately bent to lift it.
“Take the other end,” he roared to John.
Between them they carried the post back to its original position and slammed it back into the ground, deep enough to stand upright. When they had packed the earth back around it and stamped it down, it seemed secure again.
“I’m so glad,” Rena said quietly. “That was how Papa wanted it to be.”
It was as though this old man had blown a trumpet, heralding battle.
Adolphus looked at her kindly.
“Is there a chapel in this place?” he asked.
“Yes, Papa conducted the last Earl’s funeral there.”
“Would you be kind enough to show it to me?”
She led the way back into the house and round to the east wing, where there was a tiny chapel.
“Charming,” Adolphus said. “Just the place for a quiet service. But I suppose it’s been de consecrated.”
“Oh no,” she said quickly. “Papa would never hear of it. He said the next Earl might appear at any time, and the chapel must always be ready for him.”
“Thank you, my dear.”
Slowly he walked forward to the altar, and knelt before it. There were no gorgeous ornaments on it now. They had been put into store, or perhaps sold.
But to Adolphus its shabbiness did not exist. To him this was a place of glory. Rena slipped into a pew behind him and said her own quiet prayer, that Wyngate might not prevail, that Matilda and Cecil might find a way to be together, and that the love she shared with John might prosper.
While she prayed she looked through her fingers at Adolphus. She couldn’t have said why, but there was something about him that drew her gaze. To others he might look merely a shabby old man, but she sensed the presence of a mighty warrior.
And when he rose to his feet she knew he had come to a decision.
*
They returned to the kitchen to find John in a state of confusion. Several women from the village had confronted him, with their offerings.
“A loaf of bread for your lordship,” the baker’s wife was saying. She was one of the women who had nursed Rena through her illness, and her face brightened at the sight of her.
“And my husband would have me bring these ribs of beef,” the butcher’s wife put in quickly. “To welcome your lordship.”
There were eight of them, and they had all brought something as a ‘welcome’. Milk, cheese, butter, meat, these poor people were giving them enough to fill the larder for days. They had heard the rumours of coming prosperity, and wanted to know if they were true.
But part of them believed in good fortune against all odds, and this was their way of celebrating it.
Rena saw the blazing hope in their faces, and was sick at heart.
They took it for granted that she wanted the same thing that they did. What would they say if they knew she was the threat to their last hope? Looking at John’s face she saw that he too had understood, and felt uneasy that he wasn’t going to live up to their expectations.
When the last villager had gone, Adolphus said gently, “My son has done his work well, I see.”
“They’ve been listening to the rumours he’s spread,” John said bitterly. “But what am I expected to do? I can’t and won’t marry Matilda, even if she was prepared to marry me. I should have just told them that Rena is to be my wife.”
“No John,” Rena said in a strained voice. “As you say, you can’t marry Matilda, but that doesn’t mean you can marry me. You have to think of them.”
“Rena has this mad idea that I should put myself up for auction to some other heiress,” John said angrily.
“You might – find on
e that you loved, and who loved you,” she said. “If I wasn’t here – ”
“You or nobody,” said John bluntly. “Adolphus, tell her she’s talking nonsense.”
“But perhaps she isn’t,” Adolphus said gently.
John was pale. “You can’t mean that.”
“I know that Rena will never do anything against her conscience,” Adolphus said. “And you mustn’t try to force her.” He smiled at them both. “But we don’t yet know what her conscience will say.”
“But we do, we do,” she said desperately.
“Have you forgotten my miracle,” he asked, “or don’t you believe in miracles?”
“I don’t believe miracles happen to order, just because you want them,” she said. “Oh, please I – ”
Suddenly she felt she had to be alone.
“I must do some shopping,” she said in a strained voice.
“After all this?” John asked, indicating the goods on the table.
“I still need more milk,” she said hurriedly. “There are four of us living here now. I’ll be back.”
She ran out before they could detain her. Adolphus’ words had caused a terrible pain in her heart. He was kind and gentle, and yet she could tell that he thought she was right. He would support her in her agonising decision, but he would not tell her to avoid it.
Wherever she went in the village she was met by smiling faces, inviting her to share their hope and joy. She smiled back and hurried on.
In the dairy she bought more milk and hurried out, hoping not to have to talk, but in the doorway she was stopped by an imposing figure.
“Mr Daykers,” she said. “Good morning.”
“A word with you, Miss Colwell.”
“I really am rather – ”
“Kindly hear me out.”
He stood in her path, sallow, domineering, with something brutal in his quiet manner.
“It is your future that I am here to discuss,” he said.
“Once and for all, Mr Daykers, I will not be your housekeeper.”
An Introduction to the Pink Collection Page 12
