The Solitary Farm

by Fergus Hume

  CHAPTER XIV

  WHAT SILAS PENCE KNEW

  On that same evening, when Cyril was interviewing the strange negro,there was a concert in the Marshely school-house in aid of the prizefund. Dora had arranged the programme, and had asked Bella to bepresent. The girl would much rather have remained absent owing to therecent death of her father; besides, she did not feel able to enjoymusic and frivolity and laughter. But to please her friend, who had beenso kind to her, she came dressed in black and deeply veiled to thefestival. For obvious reasons she took a seat at the lower end of theroom, and near the door, so that she could easily slip out when the endcame.

  But Mrs. Vand was less retiring. In spite of her brother's tragic deathshe appeared dressed in all the colours of the rainbow, posing more as abride than as a mourner. In fact, she displayed very little grief forthe death of Jabez, and those who knew the late Captain Huxham were notsurprised, as he had never been a man to inspire affection. Moreover,the secret marriage of Mrs. Coppersley to Henry Vand had created quite asensation, and bride and bridegroom were much talked about and pointedat. Vand himself was one of the performers, as he played two violinsolos. Some folk thought that both he and his wife would have displayedbetter taste by remaining away, but Mrs. Vand laughed at this opinionand flaunted her newly-found happiness in the face of all heracquaintances.

  Luckily few people noticed Bella in her obscure corner, so she was nottroubled with questions. Those who guessed who she was, felt that shehad been very badly treated since the money had been left to Mrs. Vand,and indeed the sympathies of the entire neighbourhood were with thedisinherited girl. Mrs. Vand, as everyone said, should have been ashamedof herself; but in spite of the indecent way in which she thrust hergood fortune on everyone's notice, no one was bold enough to tell herwhat was the general opinion of her conduct. As for Bella, she sat inher corner feeling ill and miserable. She had every right to be soconsidering the position in which she and her lover were placed. It wasto ween her thoughts from this dismal state of affairs that thekind-hearted school-mistress had induced her to come to the concert.Hitherto the cure had not worked.

  The programme was the usual village one. There were several sentimentalballads of the purely English drawing-room type; two or threerecitations, the violin solos of Henry Vand, who really played with rareskill, and a reading by Silas Pence, who was the chairman. Pence lookedleaner and more delicate than ever, and read the "Dream of Eugene Aram"as a cheerful contribution to the evening's entertainment. Hissepulchral tones and dismal appearance cast quite a gloom over the closeof the evening, which was only dispelled by the singing of a glee by theMarshely Choral Society. But some time before this point was reachedBella had slipped out of the room and had taken her way back to thecottage. She went early, as her aunt had noticed her, and it was justpossible that Mrs. Vand, who dearly loved to make trouble, might start aquarrel if it came to a conversation between the two. Mrs. Vand had notforgiven her enforced payment of one hundred pounds.

  Bella did not enter the cottage, as it was very hot within, and thenight was simply glorious. She took off her hat and veil and seatedherself in the tiny garden to enjoy the soft breeze. There was not acloud in the darkly-blue sky, and a serene moon moved majesticallyacross the starry heavens. The cottage, with the lamp light shiningbehind the pink blinds, looked pretty and picturesque, so Bella resolvedto wait for Dora's return in the open air. She had ample to think about,for the concert had failed to inspire her with cheerful thoughts. Howcould it when the clouds which environed her were so densely black? PoorBella was not religious, and had small faith in the goodness of God.This was natural as God's name had rarely been mentioned by CaptainHuxham and his sister, who were perfect heathens of the animal sort. SoBella, having no hope to cling to and seeing no ray of light piercingthe darkness around her, began to conceive a cheerless future in whichthe figure of Cyril did not appear. The fact that his father hadmurdered hers ended the chance of marriage once and for all. He woulddoubtless go abroad and try to forget her, while she, bereft of love,home, money, and father, would seek some humble situation as a nurserygoverness: and it must be confessed that, as things were, Bella Huxhamhad good reason to despair. Any chance of happiness seemed to be as farremoved from her as was the moon in the heaven above her.

  The seat upon which she was resting stood close to the white palings ofthe garden, and under a leafy chestnut, now in the full glory of itssummer foliage. Occasionally a person would pass, or a child singingwould run home, but for the most part the road was deserted. Nearly allthe village people were at the concert, and it would not end for atleast another half hour. Only then would the roadway be full, but in themeantime, save for occasional interruptions, Bella had solitude andpeace. She was therefore extremely ill-pleased when a dark figure haltedat the palings and, leaning over, removed its hat to reveal the delicatefeatures of Silas Pence.

  "I give you good-evening, Miss Huxham," said the preacher, in hisrefined but somewhat shrill voice.

  "Good evening," said Bella coldly. "Had you not better return to theconcert, Mr. Pence? As the chairman you cannot leave the platform."

  "I have presided most of the evening and have recited my piece," saidPence eagerly. "Now, on the plea of feeling faint I have left that hotroom, and I am here to commune with you in the glory of the night. Is itnot beautiful, Miss Huxham?" and he recited the well-known lines ofAddison:--

  _Soon as the shades of night prevail_, _The moon takes up the wondrous tale_, _And nightly to the listening earth_ _Repeats the story of her birth._

  "Did you come here to recite, Mr. Pence?" said Bella disagreeably. "Ifso I must go indoors. I have been entertained enough this evening."

  "You should not have been at the concert at all," said the preacherrebukingly, "seeing that your dear father is scarcely cold in hisgrave."

  "That is my business, Mr. Pence," said Bella in icy tones. "If yourebuke any one it should be my aunt, who is flaunting the property ofwhich she robbed me in the face of everyone."

  "I shall rebuke Sister Vand at a proper time," said Silasauthoritatively. "In the meantime----"

  "You rebuke me," said Bella, who had risen to her feet, weary of theconversation. "I decline to permit your interference."

  "I don't want to rebuke you," cried Pence eagerly. "I wish to make yousmile on me. Become my spouse, or fair lily of the valley, and you willhave me always at your feet."

  "I have told you before, Mr. Pence, that I cannot marry you."

  "Then you still intend to wed that son of Belial, overflowing withinsolence and wine?" questioned the preacher bitterly; "your father'smurderer."

  "Mr. Lister is perfectly innocent, as I happen to know."

  "Can you prove his innocence?"

  "Can you prove his guilt?" retorted the girl spiritedly.

  "I saw him enter the Manor on that night."

  "You saw a man who resembled him. Mr. Lister was in London and can provethat he was there. It is useless your using threats, Mr. Pence, for hadyou been able to carry them out you would long since have seen thepolice."

  Pence frowned. "Who is this other man?" he asked.

  "You can find out!" said Bella impatiently, "and I am going indoors."

  "There is no other man," cried Pence angrily. "Why, I saw Mr. Listerquite clearly. I could not mistake him."

  "You did, however."

  "The police shall decide that."

  "Go to the police. You threatened to do so before. Why don't you do whatyou say instead of trying to frighten me with stage thunder?"

  Silas stamped and raged. "You will find the thunder real enough before Ihave done with you. This Lister man is guilty, and shall hang. You shallbecome my wife, my----"

  "Never! never! never!" and Bella stamped in her turn.

  "You will. As you have no name of your own you should be glad to takethat of an honest man."

  The girl started and stared. "My name is Huxham," she said angrily.

  "It is nothing of the sort. When I wis
hed to marry you, Captain Huxham,your supposed father, told me that you were a nameless waif whom he hadadopted out of charity."

  "It is wholly false."

  "It is true! it is true!" Pence leaped the fence before she knew whatwas his intention, and caught her in his arms, "and you must become mywife."

  "You beast! you villain!" cried the girl, struggling. "How dare----"

  She got no further. Even while the words were on her lips a pair of verystrong hands caught Pence by the shoulders, and wrenching him from thegirl flung him over the fence. The next moment Cyril held Bella in hisarms.

  "Oh, my dear! my dear!" she sobbed, utterly broken down, "how glad I amthat you arrived to punish him."

  "I shall punish him more!" cried Cyril, striding towards the gate.

  "No, no!" said Bella, stopping him. "Think of my good name. It isuseless making a scandal. But ask him if what he says is true."

  "What does he say?" questioned Cyril, with a note of savagery in hisvoice.

  "Oh hush! hush!" implored Bella, clinging to him. "Speak lower. I don'twish everyone to hear what Mr. Pence declares."

  "But what is it? what is it?"

  "Ask him. After all, he may be wrong, and--"

  Still holding the girl, Lister, mindful of her wish, spoke in a loudwhisper to the dusty figure on the other side of the fence. Pence hadjust risen, sorely bruised, but, unable to leave his rival with the girlhe loved, yet lingered in the roadway.

  "Here, you," said Lister sharply, "what have you been saying to MissHuxham? Speak out, you dog, or I'll thrash you thoroughly. Let me go,Bella; let me go, I say."

  "No, no! We must avoid all scandal. Think of what might be--be--" shegasped, and without ending her sentence fell half fainting into Cyril'sarms.

  Then came Pence's chance to discharge the vials of his wrath, for he sawthat Lister, hampered by the fainting girl, could not touch him.Stepping up to the palings with his face distorted with anger, he spokein low tones of hate. "I say now to you what I shall soon say to all.Captain Huxham adopted the girl, whom you falsely say that you love. Shehas no position and no name and no money, so if you marry her----"

  "Stop," said Cyril imperiously. "Can you swear to the truth of this wildstatement? Miss Huxham always passed as the captain's daughter."

  "She is not Miss Huxham," said Silas, insistently. "She is Miss--I don'tknow what. I can prove what I say, if necessary. And I shall,unless----"

  "Unless what?"

  "Unless you renounce her so that she can become my wife."

  Bella heard the words and stood unexpectedly erect with fresh energy,wrathful at Pence's persistency. "Nothing will ever induce me to becomeyour wife. And if what you say is true my aunt would have told me."

  "Mrs. Vand is not your aunt and Captain Huxham was not your father,"said the preacher sullenly. "If needs be I can prove it."

  "Then do so," cried Cyril quickly, "for by doing so you will remove thesole barrier to our marriage."

  "What do you mean?" asked Silas, recoiling in sheer surprise.

  "Let me speak," said Bella, guessing what her lover meant. "We mean thathad you held your tongue Cyril and I might have been forced to part. Nowthat I know I am not Captain Huxham's daughter I can marry him."

  Pence looked from one face to the other in the chill moonlight and drewhis own conclusions with swift intuition, sharpened by hate. "Then thisLister man is the murderer of Huxham?"

  "You have to prove that," said Cyril cheerfully. "I am not bound toincriminate myself, you know."

  Silas raised his hands to the heavens in mute appeal, for he saw that insome way, not entirely clear to him, he had brought about the very thinghe had been trying to avert. Enraged at his blunder and despairing ofgaining his ends, the man, timid as he usually was, would have sprungover the fence to renew the struggle with his rival, but that many darkfigures were seen coming along the road. Apparently the concert wasover.

  In spite of his anger, Pence retained sufficient sense to decideimmediately on a sensible course. He mechanically brushed his clothes,and bent over the palings to speak with Cyril. "To-morrow," he said, ina tense whisper, "you will be arrested, on my evidence, and she"--hepointed a trembling finger at Bella--"will be known as a namelessoutcast."

  The girl uttered a faint cry at the insult, and Cyril would have struckthe man who spoke. But Pence was prepared, and swerved away from thefence with a taunting laugh, to retreat rapidly down the road towardsthe advancing throng.

  "Come inside; come inside," said Bella, plucking at Cyril's sleeve; "youmust not be seen here with me at this hour. Mr. Pence will say nothingfor his own sake. Come inside until Dora returns."

  This was wise counsel, so the pair hastily retreated and closed thedoor, before they could be seen by the sharp eyes of the villagegossips. Bella ran into the dining-room, where supper was laid, andsinking into a chair, mutely pointed to the water jug. Lister, seeinghow pale she was, poured out a glass, and held it to her lips. Shortlyshe was more her old self, as the colour returned to her cheeks and thebrightness to her eyes. It was then that she asked a leading question:

  "Do you think that what Mr. Pence says is true?"

  "I hope so. I fervently hope so," replied Cyril, sitting down to discussthe matter, "for then we can marry, and----" he started and stopped. Itoccurred to him that Pence's statement might be the cause of GrannyTunks' queer remark, an explanation of which had been prevented byDurgo. Then again, from the negro's action, and from the facts that Mrs.Tunks had seen--so she said--his coming in the crystal, and obeyed himso implicitly, it might be that Durgo knew much that he would onlydisclose at the proper time. Of one thing Cyril was certain--namely,that Durgo was his friend, and would do his best to put things right, ifLister assisted him to recover traces of his father and the jewels,which Edwin Lister was supposed to possess.

  "I shouldn't wonder if Pence's statement was true," said Cyril,musingly, as he reflected on the present position of affairs. "It didseem strange to me that such a rough sea-dog as Huxham undoubtedly was,should have so refined a daughter as you."

  "I thought it was my education, and----"

  "No," said Cyril, looking at her searchingly in the light of the smalllamp. "Your feet and hands are too delicate, and your features tooclearly cut, and your whole bearing too well bred, to be the child ofsuch a man. Huxham and his sister are plebeians: you are an aristocrat.I am quite sure."

  Bella coloured at his praise of her beauty. "Perhaps what Mr. Pence saysmay explain why the money was not left to me."

  Cyril nodded. "If you are not Huxham's daughter, of course he would notleave you the money. But it was strange that he should tell Pence--why,what is the matter?"

  Bella had started to her feet, and was looking at him strangely. "I amunwilling to suspect Mr. Pence, seeing that it seems almost certain yourfather is guilty, but I don't believe that my father--I mean thatCaptain Huxham told him."

  "Why not?"

  "It was not Captain Huxham's way to confide in anyone, and if he hadkept silent for so long he certainly would not have told anyone later,especially Silas Pence. If anyone knew the truth it would be my aunt--Imean Mrs. Vand--and she hated me quite sufficiently to tell me that Iwas no kith or kin of hers. This she did not do."

  "Well, and what do you make of the business?"

  "This," said Bella, slowly. "I believe that Mr. Pence _does_ knowsomething of the murder, although he may not have struck the blow. Yourfather may have been disturbed by Mr. Pence, and may have taken thehundred pounds. But I am certain that Mr. Pence found some paperstelling that I was not Captain Huxham's daughter, and has them in hispossession now."

  Cyril shook his head. "You have no proofs of this wild charge."

  "No, I have not. All the same, I believe----"

  "Belief is one thing, and certainty another," said Lister, decisively,"and, again, I must tell you that my father--if indeed he is guilty--gotmuch more than one hundred pounds"; and he related all that had takenplace in Durgo's rooms. Bella listened in si
lence, and was particularlystruck with the use made by the negro of Mrs. Tunks.

  "I believe that Granny and this black man are in league," she declared;"you know she foretold his coming by the crystal. And that is allrubbish."

  "In this instance she foretold truly," said Cyril drily.

  "Because she knew beforehand, and simply made use of the crystal toimpress me," retorted the girl. "Do you think Durgo himself is guilty?"

  "No, I do not," replied Cyril very decidedly. "He bewailed the fact thatmy father had not asked him to get Huxham out of the way. No, Bella, insome way, my father managed the matter himself. He might have killed theold sailor during a quarrel, and have secured the jewels and have goneinto hiding either here or on the Continent. We can only wait until wehear from him. Then the mystery may be solved."

  "I am not so sure that your father got the jewels," said Bella, after apause. "After all, they were in the chest in the attic by Durgo'sshowing."

  "The papers were, but Durgo was not certain if Huxham left the jewelsthere, my dear. You see, the old skipper might, and probably did, keepthe jewels in his study for safety. But the jewels were in the house Iam sure, for Huxham feared lest they should be stolen, and so plantedthe corn and used the search-light. By the way, I saw that used theother night."

  "Henry Vand knows how to use it," said Bella indifferently; "my fathershowed him how to work it on one occasion. But what is to be done?"

  "I must wait and see what Durgo intends to do. He knows much that we areignorant of, and for my father's sake I think he will help us both."

  "And Mr. Pence's statement?"

  Cyril took her in his arms. "I believe it," he said, kissing her fondly,"so the barrier between us is removed."

  "Thank God for that," said Bella reverently, and being unstrung weptbitterly.