mrs. jennings' news was so startling that gerald could only fall back on his pillow and stare at her excited face. pleased with the effect which she produced, like all gossips, she continued rapidly to explain, breathlessly.
"the milkman's master--evans is his name--went at seven this morning with the milk to the pixy's house. miss bellaria always came to the gate and opened it to take the milk in. he found the gate wide open, and miss bellaria lying on the path within the grounds, stabbed to the heart, and as dead as a stone. evans gave the alarm in the village, and many people went into the grounds and up to examine the house. they found no one there: that poor lunatic was gone. evans sent on his man to tell the police here, and he came in for a drink. i had the whole story out of him. isn't it dreadful, sir? to think that we should have been talking of that crazy meg only yesterday, and that she should commit so dreadful a crime."
"stop," said gerald sharply, and somewhat recovering himself, "you cannot say if miss durham is guilty."
mrs. jennings gaped. "not say she is guilty! why, sir, if she isn't, who can be? it's well known that miss durham, as you call her, sir, always wanted to kill people, and that was why she was shut up. not being able to get at another person, she has murdered poor miss bellaria, who watched her, and then ran away--to murder again, i suppose. oh, how very dreadful it all is! when i said yesterday that we might be murdered in our beds, i little thought that we should be."
"nonsense, nonsense!"
"begging your pardon, sir, but it's gospel truth that i am speaking," said the landlady, bristling, "with a lunatic at large one never knows what may happen. the police inspector--and a very nice man he is--has already sent to denleigh asking major rebb to go to leegarth. everyone is talking about things with blood and slaughter in them. and i ask your pardon, sir, for having come into your bedroom, but i thought you would like to know. oh, dear me! dear me!" mrs. jennings wrung her plump hands and retreated towards the door, in a flurried condition. "i'll bolt and bar every window and door at sunset: no murders for me."
having babbled herself out of the room, she banged the door, and haskins, sitting up in bed, placed his hands on either side of his head, to think matters over. he found it difficult to believe the news, and yet he might have expected to hear something of this sort. of course he was absolutely certain that mavis was innocent: but he could not understand why she had run away, nor could he guess who had slain the unfortunate italian. quite unable to eat his breakfast because of the intelligence, he jumped out of bed, and into the hip-bath which was in the centre of the room. the sooner he went downstairs and learned all that could be learned the better able would he be to see his way. if mavis had been in danger from major rebb before, she was now in greater danger than ever, as he assuredly would use her assumed guilt to prevent her inheriting the money.
"nothing will make anyone believe that mavis is other than guilty," was the young man's soliloquy: "her crazy reputation is enough. if she is caught, they will shut her up in an asylum, notwithstanding the denial she is sure to make. then rebb will be able to keep the money, according to the strict letter of the will. and yet--and yet----" he clenched his fist. "i believe that rebb himself is guilty of the crime."
he had really no reason to make such an accusation: but the happening of the crime was so opportune for the major that it did not seem entirely impossible for him to have had a hand in it. assuredly he might not have struck the blow himself, but the unscrupulous geary could easily have been employed to remove bellaria. not that rebb, on the face of it, would wish to lose so useful a servant, but if it was necessary that mavis should be accused of murder, to ensure her being placed in an asylum, bellaria was the nearest and most natural victim.
but these arguments were futile, as gerald reflected while dressing, for he did not know exactly what had taken place. it was necessary to learn when the crime had been committed; where the body had been found--the precise spot, that is--and, if possible, to discover the weapon which had been used. if the yellow-handled knife was picked up anywhere near the corpse the presumption would be that geary had killed the woman, although mrs. jennings had made no report of this. but the thought recalled to haskins' mind the attack made upon him by the negro on the previous night. a knife had been used then, and he had it in the pocket of the suit he had worn. on looking at it again he saw what had struck him before, that the handle of this particular weapon was black, and not yellow. what then had become of the famous sacrificial knife, of which mavis had spoken? why should geary not have used this when striving to murder gerald? that question could only be answered when the yellow-handled knife was found.
haskins could not wear the flannels in which he had been attacked, as they were smeared all over with oil from geary's body, he therefore flung this suit into his portmanteau, and, as the day promised to be extremely hot, dressed himself in white drill. thus clothed, although far from being in his right mind, by reason of inward perturbation, he descended, to find the hotel seething with excitement.
everyone was talking of the leegarth tragedy, as such an event had never before startled the somnolent town. the bar was crowded with idlers, and mr. evans' messenger was being supplied with as much drink as he could swallow. however, he was yet sober enough to answer the few questions which haskins put to him. no weapon had been found; the police had gone to leegarth; the guilt of miss durham was certain; she had vanished, and search was being made; wires had been sent far and wide ordering her arrest; policemen were scouring the countryside on bicycles; sooner or later the murderess would be captured and everyone would be relieved. so the man babbled on, and, having learned all that was possible, gerald went to hire a bicycle in order to proceed to leegarth.
he did not feel the least hungry, for obvious reasons, but as he had a long and exhausting day before him he was wise enough to force himself to eat and drink. thus fortified he rode up the steep silbury high street, and into the surrounding country. so rapid was his pace, and so eager was he to learn the best or the worst at once, that in a marvelously short time he found himself before the high wall which girdled the pixy's house and its park. in this wall double gates of rough iron were set, but the grounds could not be seen from the lane as boards had been placed across the bars to prevent anyone looking in. this had been done--as gerald learned from a chatty villager--many years before, when the crazy girl and her dead watcher had come to live there.
policemen guarded the gates, and preserved order amongst the rapidly increasing crowd, which augmented every minute. the terrible news had traveled with lightning speed, and from far and wide came all who were possessed of morbid curiosity. the police were expected from exeter, and in the meanwhile inspector morgan of silbury was within the grounds, searching round. major rebb had not yet arrived.
on learning this latter fact, haskins at once demanded admission, so that he might interview morgan. when rebb came, he knew well that it would not be possible to meddle with the case, as the major would insist that he had nothing to do with it. but, in order to discover any evidence that might be suppressed by rebb--should he or geary be guilty--haskins made up his mind to examine as much into the matter on the spot as would be permitted to him. after sending in his request he received a reply in a few minutes, and this led to his being conducted by a young constable through the jealously guarded gates, and into the presence of the inspector. morgan was standing on the lawn, drawing a plan of the grounds, and several policemen were beating about the long grass, searching for something.
"have they found the knife?" asked gerald, coming up swiftly.
morgan looked at him keenly. he was a tall and burly man, with a red face and white hair, apparently easygoing and tolerant, who would not be difficult to manage if treated diplomatically. nevertheless he resented haskins' abrupt question with stiff official dignity. "may i ask who you are, sir?" he demanded.
gerald pointed to the card which the inspector held. "my name is there, mr. inspector. i came here because i am interested in the case."
"on what grounds? for what reason?" questioned morgan, still stiffly.
haskins did not hesitate. on the way hither he had resolved to be absolutely frank, if frankness were necessary. to deliver mavis from her dangerous position he would have to give some reason for championing her, and--having regard to the searching examinations of the law--he deemed it best to tell the absolute truth. if he did not, rebb might possibly make some use of his knowledge of the secret visits to get him into trouble. he therefore cast his bombshell boldly. "i am engaged to marry miss durham," he stated slowly.
morgan, in spite of official phlegm, dropped his pocketbook in sheer amazement, and two constables, who overheard, looked round with expressions of blank astonishment. "what do you mean, sir?" stuttered the inspector, growing redder than ever. "are you making a fool of me? miss durham was mad: she could not be engaged to anyone."
"miss durham was perfectly sane, as i am prepared to swear, and to prove my belief in her sanity i am willing to make her my wife."
"a murderess?"
"she is not a murderess. whomsoever killed that unfortunate bellaria dondi, the poor girl who was shut up here is at least innocent."
"dear! dear! dear!" morgan scratched his head, and looked bewildered. "i never came across anything so extraordinary in my life. if miss durham was shut up here--and everyone knows that she was strictly guarded on account of her mania--how came you to see her?"
"in a rather peculiar way, mr. inspector, but what i tell you can be substantiated by my friend and legal adviser, mr. ian roy macandrew." and after thus guarding himself from the tale being received with disbelief gerald detailed the finding of the cylinder, and his subsequent dealings with the matter.
morgan gaped and stared, not knowing what to make of so extraordinary a story. "then this young lady was not crazy?"
"no," said gerald positively. "i am certain she was in complete possession of her senses."
"then why was she shut up?"
"you had better ask major rebb that," said haskins dryly, "he will be here soon. in proof of the truth of my story, you can look for the canoe, which is hidden in the undergrowth on the other side of the pool below the river wall."
morgan nodded, with his pale blue eyes fixed on the speaker. "do you know anything of this murder?" he asked pointedly.
gerald laughed shortly. "are you going to accuse me?" he demanded.
"certainly not, mr. haskins; certainly not. but, seeing that your canoe is near the house, and you confess to having paid secret visits."
"i understand." gerald cut him short. "people will talk. let them. i can prove an alibi with the help of mrs. jennings and three or four of her servants. i slept last night at the prince's head, silbury, and was in bed a few minutes after ten. by the way, can you tell me when this crime was committed?"
"the doctor who examined the poor woman's body states that she was stabbed--so far as he can ascertain from the condition of the corpse--somewhere about twelve o'clock: say at midnight."
"where?"
morgan indicated a spot, stained with blood--it had soaked into the graveled path--some little distance away. "yonder, mr. haskins. i judge from this that miss bellaria, as she is called hereabouts, came to open the gate to someone--the assassin, no doubt--and then she was stabbed to the heart before she could make an outcry. the doctor declares that death must have taken place almost instantaneously."
"humph," said gerald swiftly. "i see then that you exonerate miss durham, seeing that you say bellaria was summoned to the gate by the assassin."
"yes and no, mr. haskins," said the inspector stolidly, "according to what you say, this young lady was sane: that has yet to be proved. it is quite likely that for once she may have gone out."
"no, no; she had no wish to go out."
"you seem to know a great deal about the young lady's intentions," said inspector morgan, a trifle dryly. "well then, she may have followed miss bellaria into the garden, and, after stabbing her, may have opened the gates and got away."
"miss bellaria never came into the garden at night," said gerald quickly; "she told me herself that she was afraid of something."
"what was she afraid of?" asked morgan sharply.
"i can't exactly tell you," replied the young man, who did not wish to say too much about the tána society, lest mrs. crosbie, who owned the coral pin, might be implicated, "but bellaria hinted that she was afraid, and miss durham told me that her nurse would never venture out after dark. why, then, should she have come to the gate?"
morgan reflected, and pulled his white moustache. "probably miss durham was seized with a mania for killing and chased her nurse through the house. miss bellaria would then run into the garden to escape, and so was struck down on the very threshold of yonder gate. i daresay she was trying to get out and summon assistance from the village."
"you make out a very pretty case against miss durham, mr. inspector."
morgan would have replied, but at this moment one of the constables who had been hunting in the long grass on the left hand of the gate cried out triumphantly, and held up a knife. "here it is, sir," he said.
in another moment morgan was holding in his hand a yellow-handled knife, of a very deadly description, which had bloodstains on the blade.
"i see," said the officer gravely, "this is undoubtedly the weapon used. it seems to me that the woman was stabbed, and then the assassin--miss durham, for a thousand--flung the knife aside into that long grass, before running away. very natural, very natural; she would not care to carry with her such evidence of her guilt."
"guilt which has yet to be proved," said gerald hotly.
an argument ensued, in which haskins decidedly got the worst. the inspector, and indeed everyone else, scouted the idea of mavis' innocence. she had pursued bellaria to the gates and, having killed her, had got rid of the knife by flinging it into the long grass. then she had fled, not daring to face the consequences of her crime. "in which case," cried gerald furiously, "she must be sane. a madwoman would not be afraid to remain, being ignorant of the heinousness of the offence."
morgan shook his head, still unconvinced. and indeed gerald saw that things looked very black indeed against the girl he loved. it was on the tip of his tongue to denounce geary as the owner of the knife: but he could not prove this without the evidence of mavis, and moreover he thought it wiser to keep silent as to his suspicions until he consulted macandrew and could get legal advice. the situation was too dangerous to be dealt with hurriedly.
later in the day major rebb arrived, and heard from inspector morgan all about the crime. he viewed the body of the poor woman and examined the knife, which he either failed to recognize or, if he did, decided to keep silence as to its ownership. he stated that he had seen his ward about four o'clock on the previous day, and that she was then in an excited condition. but, not thinking she would venture to commit a crime, he had gone back to the devon maid at denleigh, and there had retired to rest at nine o'clock. geary, the landlord of the inn, had also been with the major nearly all the evening, and had likewise retired to bed early, as while handling a pistol he had managed to shoot himself in the right arm. the simple-minded inspector heard all this with an air of belief, and did not inquire--as he should have done--why major rebb should take such trouble to explain the movements of his landlord, or why that landlord had managed to shoot himself so dexterously in the right arm. and, while speaking, rebb frequently glanced at gerald, who was present, expecting contradiction, no doubt.
when morgan had taken notes of the major's evidence, that military gentleman beckoned to haskins, and together they went into the room which the missing girl had used. it was comfortably and even luxuriously furnished, and gerald, casting swift glances around, never doubted but that the major--either out of diplomacy, or because he was conscience-stricken--had treated his prisoner with every consideration. when the door was closed, rebb looked searchingly at his unwelcome visitor.
"well, haskins," he inquired, "and what do you mean to do now?"
"i shall let you know that later," retorted gerald quickly.
"you must be certain now, at all events," pursued the major calmly, "that mavis is insane. no one but a madwoman would have stabbed bellaria."
"how dare you say that when you know perfectly well that mavis is innocent?"
"indeed, haskins, then who is guilty?"
"i should like you to tell me that," said gerald significantly.
rebb gave a short laugh. "are you going to accuse me?" he remarked, much in the same manner as haskins himself had spoken earlier to morgan.
"you know best."
"don't be a fool, haskins," said rebb, flushing, and very roughly; "considering the circumstances of the case, and what you--on false premises--are ready to do, would i be such an idiot as to kill bellaria?"
"yes," said gerald dryly, "you knew that i would move heaven and earth to prove mavis' sanity so that i could marry her. therefore, in order that her homicidal mania could be proved beyond all doubt, you had bellaria killed and mavis taken away. if she cannot prove her innocence--and i can guess how difficult it will be for her to do so--you will then have her put into an asylum, and enjoy her money for the rest of your life. it's a very pretty plot, major rebb."
"i agree with you there, haskins. it does credit to your imagination as a writer of fiction. but i am glad to see that you do not accuse me of murdering bellaria myself."
"no, i do not: you are too cunning to risk your own neck," said gerald decidedly, "you remained in the inn to prove an alibi. i believe that, but you sent geary here to kill bellaria, for the reasons that i have given you. don't deny it, rebb. the yellow-handled knife which belongs to geary is in morgan's possession."
"does he know that it is geary's?" asked rebb anxiously.
"no. but i shall tell him so."
"you can spare yourself the trouble. i shall tell him myself. the knife does belong to geary, as both i and his wife and half-a-dozen other people can prove. he gave it to bellaria, because she asked for a weapon to defend herself. probably mavis wrenched the knife from her at the gate and then----"
"a very ingenious explanation. but i believe geary to be guilty. he would stick at nothing, as i know from the way in which he tried to kill me last night by your orders."
"pardon me," said rebb, not at all taken aback, "geary attacked you because you were trying to injure me. he overheard our conversation as he returned from this place sooner than he expected. the foolish fellow, who is devoted to me, hoped to silence you by death. when he came back i rebuked him severely, and you can see that, as geary's right arm is wounded by you, haskins, he could not have murdered bellaria."
"i am not so sure of that," said gerald dryly, but felt all the same that the major was wriggling like an eel out of a very difficult position, "and your story of the way in which he wounded himself won't hold water. if i tell the truth----"
"i wonder you did not while i was speaking," said rebb, exasperatingly calm. "why did you not?"
"because i---- well, i have my reasons," said gerald, nonplussed by the man's boldness. "but if i tell the story----"
"geary will be convicted of a falsehood," finished rebb, nodding. "it will not harm my reputation as a truth-teller in any way, if that is what you mean. i suggested the excuse of an accident to geary, and if he is questioned, on the authority of your wild statement of assault, he will say that he told me the invention, so as to keep dark his wrongful attack on you--which i would never have countenanced," ended rebb, with great emphasis.
"i shall say nothing at present, as i have my reasons for keeping silent. what do you mean to do about this murder?"
"what can i do? i believe that mavis is guilty----"
"it's a lie--a lie!" cried haskins vehemently.
"no," insisted rebb. "i really believe that she killed bellaria. when she is captured, as she will be sooner or later, she will be tried for her life. still, as i can swear to her insanity, she will be placed in a public asylum, with sufficient allowed out of the estate for her keep, and i----"
"you will enjoy the rest of the money?"
rebb bowed! with a gratified and malicious expression. "as mavis can never marry now i retain the income for the rest of my life."
"and i," said haskins, raising his hand solemnly, "swear never to rest until her innocence is proved and she is my wife."
"i defy you to do your worst," snapped rebb contemptuously, "all the cards are in my hands. might is on my side."
"and right on mine and on mavis'. let god decide, rebb."
the major laughed insolently, shrugged his shoulders, and left the room, convinced that haskins could not harm him. he disbelieved in god.
