Mr. Oliver Lemby did not trouble to see Lady Wyke again. The two quite understood one another, and there was no need for further conversation. Seeing what Claudia had learnt from Mrs. Vence, the pirate was indeed surprised that Sir Hector's widow intended to leave him alone and get Edwin arrested. Being so passionate and vindictive a woman, it was natural enough that she desired rather to see Craver in the dock than at the altar beside Claudia. Since she could not get him herself--and she had tried every means in her power to win him--it was plain that she intended to see him hanged rather than permit him to marry her rival. Her motive was easily guessed, but what puzzled Lemby was how she meant to bring about her aim. The evidence of Mrs. Vence, as the pirate knew, was against him, and involved him deeply in the crime. Therefore it did not seem much good for the widow to bring the housekeeper down to Hedgerton in order to implicate Edwin, which, on the face of it, she could not do. The sole way in which Lemby could conjecture Lady Wyke intended to act was that Neddy would be used to accuse Craver. But then Neddy liked Craver, and was friendly to Claudia, so he might not be inclined to the woman's bidding. And, so far as could be seen. Lady Wyke had no means of compelling the boy, or Mrs. Vence either, to give false evidence. It was all a mystery.
It said a good deal for Lemby's nerves that he was able to enjoy himself in Hedgerton with the sword of Damocles hanging over his head. But enjoy himself he did, and made himself very agreeable to the old people. Claudia's fears proved to be groundless, for her father behaved with unusual meekness, and showed the best side of his character. Lemby was not altogether bad, and had many good points. Refined he assuredly was not, but he had the breezy, gay air of a soldier of fortune, which fascinated the Rector and his wife. They had never before met with such a one, and the novelty of his conversation charmed them. The pirate talked of adventures in the South Seas, of wanderings in Patagonia, Peru, and Brazil, and of strange doings in Australia. A tendency to exaggeration and boastfulness which characterised his speech made Mr. Craver dub him Parolles, after the personage in Shakespeare's comedy. But Lemby, ignorant of literature, took this as a compliment, which amused the Rector greatly. On the whole, Claudia found that her father was a greater success than might have been hoped for, and therefore breathed more freely. He certainly behaved very well for a man of his loose habits and loose upbringing.
The pirate did not tell his daughter how Lady Wyke had arranged to marry him if Edwin was arrested. In the first place, he did not see how she was going to bring about such a catastrophe, and in the second he saw no reason to worry Claudia. If nothing happened before Sunday, then Craver determined to force his way into Maranatha, along with Claudia and Lemby, in order to face Mrs. Vence in Lady Wyke's presence. Matters, as he said, must come to a climax somehow and at some time. Things could not go on as they were doing.
"Didn't Lady Wyke, say what she intended to do?" Edwin asked Lemby for the fourth or fifth time on Saturday morning.
"No," said the buccaneer, with an unmoved face, and lying glibly. "I called to see her. I had dinner with her, and after dinner I asked her to marry me. She said that she would think about it."
"Rather strange, Lemby, considering Lady Wyke must know how Mrs. Vence accuses you of committing the crime."
"I told her that the woman was a liar, and she believed me," said Lemby.
"Hum!" replied Craver, doubtfully. "I don't think that Lady Wyke is a woman to be so easily convinced. She'll have you arrested, my friend."
"She may do the same to you, Craver."
"Well, she might. Going by circumstantial evidence, things look very black against us both. Your use of the knife and my use of the postman's bicycle both go to show that each had a finger in the pie. If Sergeant Purse knew----"
"I don't care whether he knows or not," broke in Lemby. "I'm willing to stand my trial if you are."
"Well," said Craver, with a shrug, "we may both be placed in the dock. It all depends upon Lady Wyke and Mrs. Vence. I suppose you know that she arrived at Maranatha last night. Mrs. Mellin told Mrs. Craver, and added that Lady Wyke had gone to town. It is strange that Lady Wyke didn't wait to see her visitor."
"Oh, I can explain that," said Lemby, stolidly. "Lady Wyke told me she was going to London to destroy that silly will she made in your favour. She admitted that it didn't work since you refused to marry her."
"I should think I did refuse," said Edwin, heatedly. "I marry Claudia, or no one, Lemby. However, Lady Wyke went to London at mid-day on Friday, and Mrs. Vence arrived at Maranatha late last night. I wish you could see her."
"I can't. Lady Wyke said that she would give orders that Mrs. Vence was not to see me except in her presence."
"She'll see the lot of us in her presence," said Edwin, grimly. "To-morrow or on Monday we go to Maranatha and thresh the whole matter out."
"I'm agreeable," said Lemby. "What are you going to do to-day?"
"I have to see about some repairs to my aeroplane, and late in the afternoon I intend to take a flight. Will you come with me?"
"No, thank you."
Craver then left the buccaneer with the Rector, and walked along the cliffs to the barn where his aeroplane was sheltered. The building was a tithe barn standing on glebe land belonging to the Rector of Hedgerton, but, being little used, had fallen into decay. As it was a very large erection with brick walls and thatched roof, Edwin had cleverly turned it into a shelter for his aeroplane by breaking down the front and adding huge double doors. There was ample room for the machine, notwithstanding the wide spread of its wings, and it slipped in and out very easily. In the barn there was a loft which nobody used, and the rude ladder from the ground to the opening overhead had long since been taken away. Mr. Craver did not trouble about the loft, but left it to the rats and owls, to the nesting of starlings and swallows. He was content to have the roof rainproof and the doors stout, so that the machine could be kept dry and wholly safe from robbers. On the whole, it was a most convenient place for the aeroplane, as the machine had plenty of room outside when it emerged to run for the time before ascending. Nothing could have suited Craver's purpose better.
To Edwin's surprise he found Neddy Mellin hovering round the barn when he arrived, trying the doors and peeping in at various points. The lad looked rather pale, but was as smart as ever in his Eton suit. Craver wondered why he had come to Hedgerton, considering that he was engaged to sing at the Tit-Bits Music Hall, and might necessarily be supposed to have remained in town for the Saturday matinee.
"What the dickens are you doing here, Neddy?" he asked, sharply.
"I'm trying to get a squint at your aeroplane, sir," said Neddy, smartly touching his hat. "There isn't any harm in that, is there, sir?"
"No. I don't mean that. Neddy. But why aren't you singing?"
"Well, sir, I've got a touch of hoarseness, and the cove as teaches me said I'd better wait until next week. I was going to sing 'Sally in Our Alley' this week, but I didn't. I'm choky, sir."
The boy certainly spoke in rather a hoarse manner, and Edwin advised him to go homo and surrender himself to his mother's care. "The wind is rather keen, Neddy, and you might catch a fresh cold." "Oh, I'm all right, sir," said the lad, indifferently. "Mother only bothers me with her medicine and coddling. Do let me have a look at the machine, sir, and do take me up with you this afternoon."
"I can't do that unless your mother consents, Neddy." said Craver, kindly. "But by all means you can look at the aeroplane."
He unlocked the doors and conducted the delighted boy into the vast interior of the barn. The next two hours were spent joyfully by Neddy in assisting Craver to do the necessary repairs, and he proved to be very useful in getting what was wanted. With the eager curiosity of his age the lad examined every portion of the machine and asked innumerable questions. All these Edwin answered good-naturedly. Once or twice it was on the tip of his tongue to question Neddy about the events of the night when Wyke met with his death, but on swift reflection he decided to wait for a more fitting occasion. As the boy was devoted to Claudia and very grateful to himself for being allowed to help with the repairs, Edwin believed that he would not side with Lady Wyke, however much she wished it. Therefore he was quite content to wait. Later on, when Claudia was with him, they could examine the boy together and learn what he really knew likely to reveal the truth.
About twelve o'clock Edwin found that he had left a particular screw at home, and went back for it. Neddy offered to go readily; but Craver alone knew where the screw was to be found, and went himself. He left Neddy in charge of the barn and the aeroplane, warning him not to allow anyone to enter. With great pride the lad took up his post as sentry, and Edwin ran back across the wide spaces of land to the rectory, intending to return immediately. But he was prevented from doing so.
"I saw Mrs. Vence on the esplanade," said Claudia, meeting her lover at the gate. "I saw her when I went out for an errand for your mother."
"Did you speak to her?"
"No. I was some distance away, and when she saw me she ran off."
"Ran off! That old woman?"
"Oh, Edwin, she is very quick on her legs, and got out of the way in a most surprising manner. Afterwards I met Mrs. Mellin down in the village, and she told me that Mrs. Vence was looking for Neddy."
"What does she want with him?" asked Craver, suspiciously. "I don't know. Perhaps she wants to tell him to hold his tongue, and is afraid lest we should question him."
"I haven't questioned him yet, Claudia; but now that I know Mrs. Vence is on the warpath I shall ask him immediately I return to the barn. It is just as well for us to learn what he knows before Mrs. Vence gets hold of him. All the same, I don't see why she should tell him to hold his tongue."
"We don't know if she intends to do so, Edwin. It is only a guess on my part, dear. Is Neddy still with you?"
"Yes. He has been with me for the last two hours helping with the repairs. I suppose his mother knows where he is."
"Yes. She said that Mrs. Vence sent a message from Maranatha asking that Neddy should come to see her, and Mrs. Mellin replied that he was at the barn on the cliffs with you. He told his mother that he was going to try and see the aeroplane. Then, I suppose, Mrs. Vence came out to look for him."
"She hasn't been near the barn, at any rate. Claudia, I am very suspicious of that old woman. It seems to me that she wants to make Neddy hold his tongue."
"Why should she?"
"Oh, I don't know," Craver pondered, deeply. "After all, she may have slipped the knife into Wyke herself. Remember, he brought it down the stairs and may have laid it on the study table when speaking to me. Now that I come to think of it." added Edwin with a start, "he did. I remember distinctly."
"Why didn't you say so before?"
"I forgot. All this business is refreshing my memory. Remember, Claudia, I was very upset at the moment, and my mind was somewhat clouded. It's only coming back to me bit by bit. Yes, Wyke did have the knife, and did throw it on the table before he took me into the dining-room. He returned there, and perhaps Mrs. Vence met him with the knife in her hand to----"
"Edwin! Edwin! We can't be sure. She had no reason to murder Sir Hector."
"Has she any reason to force Neddy to hold his tongue?"
"We don't know if she has any such intention, Edwin."
"Let us find out, Claudia. Wait for a minute. I want to find a screw, and then we can both go back to question the boy. We must examine him before Mrs. Vence puts her oar in."
Claudia consented, and Edwin ran into the rectory. He was a long time away, as he could not find the screw. When he did return, he set out at once for the barn with Claudia. By this time he had been absent fully three-quarters of an hour. Never thinking of the shock that was waiting for them, the young couple walked leisurely towards the barn and along the cliffs, chatting easily. Shortly they arrived at the building, but could see no sign of Neddy outside, although Edwin expected to find him doing sentry-go. With an exclamation of vexation at Neddy's negligence, he stepped within, and then cried out; "Claudia! Come quick."
The girl, who was listening behind, ran in to see Craver stooping over the insensible form of the lad. Neddy was lying face downwards and bleeding from an ugly wound in the head, evidently inflicted by some blunt instrument. To all appearances he was dead.
"Oh, Edwin! who has done this?" cried Claudia, piteously, as she knelt beside the poor boy's body.
"I suspect Mrs. Vance, although I have no reason to believe so. We must carry him to the rectory, Claudia, as we can do nothing with him here."
"Is he dead?"
"I think not. Only stunned. Wait a minute. Claudia, I'll ask one of the coastguards to watch the barn and get another to help."
Edwin ran off, while Claudia tried to staunch the wound with her handkerchief. Shortly the young man came back with the two men, and while one remained to guard the machine, the other assisted Edwin to carry the insensible hoy to the rectory. Mrs. Craver received them at the door, and was loud in her expressions of regret. A messenger was sent off for the doctor and for Mrs. Mellin, while Neddy was attended to by the rector's wife and by Claudia.
The two did all they could to revive him. But the blow had been so heavy that the boy was quite stunned. Nevertheless, after much trouble with brandy, and bathing and smelling-salts, the boy vaguely opened his blue eyes. At once his gaze fell on Claudia bending over him. His lips moved.
"She did it."
"Who?"
"Mrs. Vence."
"Why, Neddy?"
The boy's gaze wandered, and he showed signs of relapsing into insensibility again. But Claudia, knowing what was at stake, asked the question again.
"Mrs.--Vence--murdered--the--old 'un!" Then Neddy's eyes closed and again he became insensible.
After that momentary gleam of consciousness, Neddy relapsed into insensibility, and became dead to the world for a long time. Mrs. Mellin arrived in tears, and insisted that the boy should be removed to her own poor home, so that he might be nursed and looked after. But the doctor, who was by this time on the spot, urged that the poor lad should be taken at once to the Redleigh Hospital, as it was probable that an operation would be necessary. The rector agreed with this suggestion, and after a lengthy argument Mrs. Mellin was induced to consent to the arrangement. A motor-car carried both Neddy and his mother to Redleigh, and everything possible having thus been done for the victim, it now remained to find the assailant. It was fortunate that the boy had been able to give the name of the person who struck him down, as it made things easier for the police. While Neddy was being attended to, Edwin wired to Redleigh for Sergeant Purse, and he was expected to arrive every moment. But before the officer came the injured boy was removed to the hospital.
While the rector and his wife were talking over the untoward event, Claudia managed to draw her lover into another room for a private conversation. This privacy was necessary, as, knowing what they did, the young couple could not converse freely in the presence of Mr. and Mrs. Craver. Edwin still wished to keep them in ignorance of what was going on, as things were not yet shipshape. When Claudia had Edwin to herself, and bluntly asked what he was going to do, he quite as bluntly answered her.
"I'm going to tell the whole story to Sergeant Purse," he said, firmly.
"But you and dad may be arrested if you tell the truth," protested the girl uneasily.
"I don't think so. Remember, in your presence and in the presence of my mother, Neddy has accused Mrs. Vence of the crime. Until she is caught, and the truth of the statement is proved, Purse may have us watched, but he certainly will not arrest us."
"Do you think that Mrs. Vence is guilty, Edwin?"
"I am sure of it. Otherwise, why should the boy say so."
"Mrs. Vence was certainly uneasy when she let slip the fact that Neddy was in the house all the time," said Miss Lemby, thoughtfully.
"I quite understand that," replied the young man, promptly. "In the heat of the conversation she said too much. Like many another clever criminal, she gave herself away."
"But why should she murder Sir Hector?"
"That is what we have to find out, and will learn when she is arrested."
"Hiding somewhere, Claudia. From what Mrs. Mellin said, she knew where the boy was to be found, and probably followed him. I daresay she was lurking round the barn while Neddy was assisting me with the repairs, but, owing to my presence, did not get a chance of harming him. Then, when I came back for the screw, she took the opportunity and, as she thought, killed the one witness who could prove her guilt."
Claudia nodded. "It seems to be plain enough. But are you wise in telling the sergeant what you and dad have had to do with the crime? Would it not be better to wait until Mrs. Vence is arrested and confesses her guilt?"
"No, Claudia," said Edwin, positively. "I must speak out now. There has been quite enough of this hole-and-corner work. Your father and I are both quite innocent, and for our own safety we must put ourselves under the protection of the law; otherwise the deuce, knows what will happen."
Claudia, after some consideration, agreed with this view, but begged Edwin not to confess until her father was consulted. The young man had no objection to taking this course, and in order to lose no time he set out for the inn with the intention of bringing Lemby back to the rectory. Then the three could wait for the arrival of Purse and the statement could be made. So matters were arranged; but, as Fate would have it, Claudia and her lover met the sergeant driving along the esplanade while on their way to the village. He stopped the trap when he saw them and made inquiries.
"What's this about your having found out who murdered Sir Hector Wyke?" asked the lean little man, abruptly. "I just received your message, Mr. Craver, and came on at once. Three or four policemen are following."
"You will need them all, and need Jervis, too, in order to catch Mrs. Vence," said Craver, promptly. "She is the culprit."
"Who says so?"
"Neddy Mellin." And Edwin gave a hasty sketch of what had happened, so as to put Purse in full possession of the facts.
When he had concluded, the sergeant whistled. "Fancy that, now. I never should have suspected that old woman. She gave her evidence very clearly at the inquest, and put me off the scent by her very clearness. I should like to see the boy and question him."
"You can't," said Claudia, quickly. "He only became conscious enough to tell, in my presence, and in the presence of Mrs. Craver, who had struck him down. Now he is insensible again, and has been taken to the Redleigh Hospital."
"Oh, has he? I wish I had seen him before he went. However, I can call at the hospital when I return."
"That won't do much good, sergeant," said Craver, with a shrug. "The boy is not able to recognise anyone or to talk at all. Better come with me and with Miss Lemby, here, to see her father, who is at the Jack Ashore."
"What for?" asked Purse, suspiciously.
"We have something to tell you."
"In connection with the death of Sir Hector Wyke?"
"Yes. It won't take long to put you in possession of what we know, and then you can search for Mrs. Vence." Purse drew out his watch. "I'll give you half an hour," he said, pompously. "We can then go back to the Rectory. I have told my men to meet me there. In fact, Mr. Craver, I expected to find you there also."
"You would have," said Edwin drily, "but that the necessity arose of my going to see Mr. Lemby about what we have to tell you."
"And Miss Lemby?"
"She wishes to be present, although she has nothing to do with the mater."
"Oh, but I have," chimed in Claudia. "I can tell the sergeant what Mrs. Vence said to me the other day."
Purse grunted and looked suspiciously at the girl, then, with a nod, agreed to do as he was asked. The Redleigh trap was dismissed, and the trio walked on to the inn. There, in the very room wherein the officer had seen Lemby prior to the inquest, he saw him again. The pirate was startled and disturbed by this invasion of his privacy, and when Edwin privately told him of the determination he had arrived at, he hoarsely objected. But matters had gone too far for these objections to have any weight, so in the end Mr. Lemby was quite agreeable to say what he knew. Then the quartette took their seats, and Purse produced his pocket-book.
"Anything you say will be used in evidence against you," he recited, in quite a mechanical way. "Now, Mr. Craver."
Edwin related in what way he was connected in the matter, and Purse started when he heard that the man before him was the hero of the red bicycle escapade. But he did not interrupt, and speedily noted down all details. Lemby followed immediately on Edwin's heels, and recounted the episode of the knife, which he bluntly acknowledged to be his. Then Claudia took up the tale, and put the sergeant in possession of all facts connected with the hunt for the assassin, including her visit to Mrs. Vence and the statement of Neddy that the old woman was the culprit. All these things the officer took down, and scribbled furiously. When he had finished, and his book was replaced in his pocket, he looked steadily at the three people before him.
"You have all acted wrongly," said the sergeant, in a harsh, official voice. "I should have known of these things long ago."
"We were not bound to incriminate ourselves," said Edwin, smartly.
"I could have helped you."
"Not you, confound it!" growled Lemby, aggressively. "If we had owned up before the truth became known you would have run us in. Come now, confess."
"Well, it is probable that I should," admitted the sergeant, reluctantly. "After all, things look black against you and against Mr. Craver here."
"Of course. And that is the dashed reason why we held our tongues."
Purse, after reflection, made no answer to this, and rose to intimate that the conference was at an end.
"The next thing to be done is to find this old woman," said the sergeant.
"Wait a moment," said Lemby, rising. "How do we stand?"
"Where you were," said Purse, gruffly. "I don't intend to have you arrested, if you mean that. But until this business is cleared up by the arrest of Mrs. Vence, I'll keep an eye on you."
"That is only reasonable," said Edwin, readily. "However, I beg one boon of you, sergeant. Don t let my father or my mother know anything about what we have told you."
"If Mrs. Vence is arrested, the whole story must come out, sir."
"Then wait until you do arrest the woman. But until Mr. Lemby and I are free from danger, I don't wish my parents to know."
"Fair enough," growled the sergeant "I'll hold my tongue. Now come along. She can't have gone far, and we'll soon lay hands on her. The old wretch, to cheat me so! Hang her! She has pulled the wool over my eyes."
There was no doubt of this. Mrs. Vence had proved too clever for Purse at the inquest, and it seemed as though she would again escape him. All that afternoon search was made throughout Hedgerton, but without success. The servants at Maranatha stated that Mrs. Vence had left the house hours ago and had not returned. An inquiry at Mrs. Mellin's cottage showed that the old woman had not been there. Various people, questioned by the police, stated that they had seen the housekeeper wandering about the esplanade, and a coastguard remembered to have noticed her on the cliffs. These were searched, the beach was examined, the woods round Hedgerton were explored, and the village itself was beaten for the fugitive, but all unsuccessfully. It seemed as though Mrs. Vence had taken wings to herself and had flown away. Yet it seemed ridiculous to think that so old and so infirm a woman could escape so easily. By the time it was four o'clock the sergeant was furious at being made to look such a fool. But swearing did not help him. Mrs. Vence had vanished, and was nowhere to be found.
"Well," said Purse, when he came across Edwin and Claudia at the barn, whither they had gone to look at the aeroplane, "what's to be done now?"
"You can't find her?" said Miss Lemby, anxiously.
"No. You know the old wretch by sight. See here, take this police whistle, and if you spot her, blow for all you are worth."
"But I am not likely to see her," protested Claudia. "If a clever man like you can't find her, how do you expect me to?"
"See here, young lady," broke in the irate officer. "Mrs. Vence is hiding. While the police are about she'll not show. I intend to collect my men at the rectory and then come along to have a talk with the coastguard yonder. There is a man there I want to examine. Now, when Mrs. Vence sees that the coast is clear she may venture out, as she won't take any notice of you. Keep your eyes open and blow the whistle if you see her. That's all I ask."
"You ask a great deal, sergeant," said Claudia, drily. "And my father?"
"He will remain at the rectory with my men. Will you do what I ask?"
"Yes. But I warn you that I don't anticipate success," said Claudia, slipping the whistle into her pocket.
"Neither do I. But I'm grasping at straws," growled the sergeant, who was very hot and very angry.
He was turning away from the barn to go to the rectory and collect his men, when Edwin stopped him for a moment. "Have you any objection to my taking a flight, sergeant?" he asked. "I want to try my machine now it is repaired?"
Edwin quite expected the man to object, but, to his surprise, the sergeant at once assented. "Seeing you going away on the aeroplane will make Mrs. Vence think that we have given up the hunt, and she will venture out to escape. Go, by all means, Mr. Craver. I'll come back to see you start."
Purse hurried away, and Edwin made ready his machine. He only intended to take a short flight over the water and then return, as he merely wished to see if the repairs were all right. To provide against accidents he placed a coil of rope on the pilot's seat. It might be wanted, and it might not. All the same, it was just as well that it should be there. Shortly, and just when Purse returned from the rectory, Edwin was ready, and called two or three coastguards from their station to assist in the ascent. While they ran the aeroplane along the ground to give it the impetus to rise, Purse cast his eyes here, there, and everywhere, in the hope of seeing Mrs. Vence. Why he expected her to remain in the vicinity of her crime it is impossible to say. But he could not help thinking that she was lurking about close at hand. However, his attention was called from watching by the ascent of the great machine, which rose majestically into the air, swept round in a great circle, and then turned its nose seaward. Looking up and following its flight, Purse walked along towards the coastguard station, leaving Claudia seated in the shadow near the front of the barn. She was behind one of the double doors, and could not be seen from within.
For a time Claudia watched the aeroplane swooping and soaring and dipping and rising in the rainbow-coloured sunset sky. When it dwindled to a mere black dot she let her eyes sink to the ground, and blinked to got the dazzle out of them. Suddenly she heard a stealthy noise, and looked through the aperture between the door and the barn, where it swung on its hinges. To her surprise, she saw someone climbing actively down the wall, having emerged from the trapdoor leading to the loft. There was no ladder, as has been explained, so the person in question had to descend like a monkey, using feet and hands to cling to the rough wail, A glint of sunshine showed Claudia a blue dress and a red knitted shawl, so she was not long in doubt as to whom the individual was. Evidently Mrs. Vence, after striking down the boy, had climbed up into the loft in order to hide, and now that she believed the coast to be clear was trying to escape into the open. No one had ever thought of searching the loft, so the astute old woman had shown uncommon sense in choosing her hiding-place.
With bated breath Claudia rose silently and waited patiently, drawing the whistle from her pocket, Mrs. Vence, quite ignorant that she was being watched, crept down like a huge bat, and then made a run for the door. Just as she emerged, Claudia sprang at her and the old woman uttered a shriek like the cry of a trapped animal. Afterwards she became silent and fought viciously. But Claudia, knowing what was at stake, held on tightly. In the struggle the woman's spectacles fell off, then her bonnet and a mass of false hair. She was unmasked.
"Lady Wyke!" gasped Claudia, "Lady Wyke!"
"Lady Wyke! Lady Wyke!" babbled Claudia, dazed by the amazing discovery.
"You beast!" snarled the detected murderess, and wrenched herself free, to run swiftly across the open space between the barn and the zig-zag path which led down to the beach.
Claudia, seeing her quarry escaping, recovered her senses promptly, and blew a shrill call on the police whistle. In a moment Sergeant Purse, at the not too distant coastguard station, heard the signal, and came running out. He saw in a moment the flying figure of the woman, and sped towards her like a deer, in order to intercept her before she reached the cliffs. At the same time Claudia sprang forward also, and reached the fugitive almost at the same time as the officer. Purse laid hands on his prey just as she reached the opening of the path, and dexterously flung her on the ground. Lady Wyke, seeing that she was lost, howled like a wild beast, and swore like several troopers in her anger and baffled rage. But the sergeant paid no attention to her curses. When he rose she was lying on the ground with handcuffs on her wrists. Claudia silently stood looking down on her captured enemy, not knowing whether to laugh or cry, so unstrung did she feel. Unable to say a word, she turned red and white alternately, and awaited events.
"Get up, Mrs. Vence," said Purse, briefly.
"It's--not--Mrs. Vence," quavered Claudia, in a shaky voice. "It's Lady Wyke."
"Gosh!" gasped the sergeant, astonished for once in his official life. "Do you mean to say that she murdered her husband?"
There was no answer from either woman. Lady Wyke rolled on the dry grass cursing freely, while Claudia sat down on a convenient rock to clasp her hands tightly and keep herself from trembling--in fact, from breaking down altogether. No one else was at hand, as the policemen at the rectory had not heard the whistle, and Purse had waved back the coastguards who seemed disposed to approach. He did not wish anyone should share the glory of his capture, and desired then and there to hear Lady Wyke's story, so that he could be sure he had arrested the right person.
"Now, then," said Purse, shaking his finger at her sternly, "what have you to say, madam? Remember, anything you do say will be used in evidence against you."
"Oh," sneered Lady Wyke, looking very white and very vicious, "and you think that I'll be fool enough to speak after that warning. How dare you arrest an innocent person such as I am!"
"You are guilty," said Claudia, hoarsely. "You murdered Sir Hector."
"It's a lie."
"Neddy Mellin can prove it."
"Then until he does, I am guiltless," raged the woman, furiously. "Take these handcuffs off, man."
"Oh, no," said the sergeant, smoothly. "I have arrested you as Mrs. Vence, who struck down that boy. Afterwards you can be arrested for the murder of your husband as Lady Wyke."
"I didn't kill him, I tell you," she snarled viciously. "As to the boy, I never saw him."
"Rats!" growled Purse inelegantly. "If you are innocent of assault, why did you hide in that loft?"
Lady Wyke scowled, and saw that there was no escape from the lesser crime. "I only hit the boy lightly to punish him for telling lies."
"You stunned him. He is dangerously ill," said Claudia, quickly.
"Then how can he accuse me if he hasn't his senses about him?"
"He recovered for a moment to say that you had struck him, and he gave the reason why you did so."
"And the reason?" demanded the woman, with a sneer.
"You murdered your husband."
"Did he say that in those exact words?"
"No. He said that Mrs. Vence had murdered Sir Hector."
"Well, I am not Mrs. Vence, I am Lady Wyke."
"Rot!" said the sergeant, angrily. "What the deuce are you wasting my time for in telling lies? You are Lady Wyke sure enough, but you have been masquerading for some purpose as an old woman under the name of Mrs. Vence."
"You can prove nothing against me, said Lady Wyke, sullenly.
"Yes, we can. An operation will restore young Mellin to health, and his evidence will hang you."
"Hang me?" Lady Wyke shivered.
"Yes. There is no escape, But you had better not say any more. I don't want to trap you into a confession. Get up and come along with me. I must take you to Redleigh Goal."
"Oh," groaned the woman, looking at her handcuffs and then wrathfully at the white face of Miss Lemby, "and to think that the girl should get the better of me! But I'm not beaten yet."
"Here, get up and come along," said Purse, harshly, and bent to lift her.
"Wait!" shrieked Lady Wyke, who now saw that there was indeed no escape, and that the time had come for her to pay in full for her wickedness. "I have a word to say first."
"Say it then," growled the officer, sharply, "and be quick about it."
The captured woman thought for a few moments, and then began with a sigh to confess her wickedness, and continued with frequent sobs. Bad as she was, Claudia was quite sorry for her apparent misery.
"I'll tell the truth," said Lady Wyke, in a melancholy tone, but it became sharper when Purse began to recite his formula. "Don't bother me," she said, tartly, "but take out your pocket-book and note down what I say."
"I'm ready," said the sergeant, stolidly, when her command was complied with. Lady Wyke nodded, looked at her fettered hands, and shivered. "I never thought that I'd live to have these on," she said, sullenly. "However, the game's up, and that girl yonder has won. It's no use beating about the bush any longer. I did murder my husband."
"Oh!" gasped Claudia, shrinking and wincing.
"Yes," went on the woman plaintively. "I killed him, with the knife of your father. To begin at the beginning"--her voice shook, but she made an effort and continued slowly--"when I saw in America that Hector was going to marry you. Miss Lemby, I came back to stop him from committing bigamy."
"He thought that you were dead." "Well, I wasn't. I returned and saw Sandal to prove my identity. I also learnt that the will made by Hector shortly after our marriage, which left his property to me, was still in existence. Then I interviewed Hector, and we had an unpleasant scene, as you may guess. He did not want to tell you the truth immediately, but wished for time to think over matters. To do so he proposed to go into hiding in the country, because he was afraid lest your father should come and worry him."
"My father did find him out," said Claudia, while Purse went on busily taking notes. "He learnt from Edwin where Sir Hector was."
"Add Edwin knew because his father was Rector of Hedgerton. Well, than, as you may guess, I was not going to let my husband give me the slip, so I said that I would go with him. He objected, as he had fixed upon Maranatha, in Hedgerton, as his hiding-place, and knew that I came from there. He did not wish my sister, who was only a washerwoman, to know that I was his wife. I therefore said that I would make myself up as an old woman, and go as his housekeeper."
"And your husband consented to this absurd idea?" I asked Purse, doubtfully.
Lady Wyke smiled drily. "He couldn't very well object, could he," she demanded, "seeing that I had the inside running? Since he was anxious to hide the truth about his first marriage from that girl yonder, he had to do what I wished, as he knew that I could give the show away.
"Well, then, being an actress, I was quite able to turn myself into an old hag. I was Lady Wyke in London, but I arrived at Maranatha as Mrs. Vence. Afterwards, when the house was more or less ready, Hector arrived, and we pigged it there for some time. Hector could not make up his mind to tell you of my reappearance, Miss Lemby, and so dilly-dallied day after day. I kept mostly indoors, while occasionally Hector walked out, although he discouraged people calling, which was natural, considering he did not feel inclined for company. I particularly refused to see my sister, Mrs. Mellin, lest she should recognise me through my disguise. But I got Neddy to bring the washing, and my nephew and I became very friendly."
"Did he know, then, that you were his aunt?" asked Claudia, and Purse mutely put the same question.
"No. He never knew at all that Mrs. Vence and Lady Wyke were one and the same person, which said a good deal for my cleverness in making-up."
"I never guessed myself," said Miss Lemby, shaking her head.
"Another tribute to my talents," cried Lady Wyke, ironically. "Well, then, the whole reason why I disguised myself at Hector's request, and watched him, was to prevent him from making another will. I fancied that he wanted to leave the money to you, Miss Lemby, and naturally I hated you. I pigged it as my husband's housekeeper for some time, as you know, and watched him carefully. Then, on that particular night Mr. Oliver Lemby arrived, and saw my husband in the drawing-room. I then----"
"Wait a bit," broke in Purse. "Was the boy Mellin in the house then?"
"Yes. He arrived early with the washing, and was eating some bread and honey in the kitchen. I excused myself, and left him there while I went up to spy at the drawing-room door keyhole. I wished to find out if Hector was saying anything about leaving the money to you, Miss Lemby. I saw what I told you in London, when you truly believed that I was Mrs. Vence. Your father threatened Hector with his knife, and then came the ring at the door. I ran down to open it, but did not know that the newcomer was Mr. Craver. While he asked for my husband, Hector came running downstairs with your father's knife in his hand. He pushed me aside, told me to go to the kitchen and bring refreshments in a quarter of an hour, and then took the stranger into his study. I did not go to the kitchen, but listened. Then I heard Hector say that he intended to leave the money to MV. Craver, and knew that the stranger was Edwin. Afterwards Hector conducted Mr. Craver into the dining-room to show him some papers. What they were I don't know, and why they should be in the dining-room I don't know either. But then Hector's papers and letters were always all over the place. He was a most untidy man.
"I stole into the study, and saw Mr. Lemby's knife on the table, where Hector had left it. I was furious at the thought of Hector making a new will and leaving the money to another person. The devil entered into me, for I swear that I had no idea of killing him until then. Hector came back for a moment and faced me as I was holding the knife. Without waiting, I sent the knife straight into his false heart. He gave a cry and fell. Then I heard Mr. Craver move in the next room--the dining-room. I turned to fly, and saw Neddy Mellin looking at me. He had seen all. I dragged him into the kitchen, and made him promise to hold his tongue. He was scared, and did so. Then, while Mr. Craver was bending over the body, I came in with the tray and dropped it. The postman's knock----"
"Yes, yes, yes!" said Purse, closing his pocket-book; "we know all the rest. Mr. Craver escaped on the bicycle. Hall and Jervis and Lemby arrived, and you played the innocent goat."
"She did more than that," said Claudia, looking very sick and white. "She tried to implicate my father and Edwin when she knew they were innocent."
"Oh, that was a part of my game," said Lady Wyke, lightly. "But you know now why I went to buy a motor. It was to make Edwin's acquaintance. Then Neddy gave me the letter he had taken from the hall table, and I knew that I had the upper hand of your lover. I must say that, seeing how I could have ruined him, he was brave to stick to you, Claudia. As to that pirate Lemby----"
"That's enough," said Sergeant Purse, suddenly. "I have heard all that I want to hear. Now come to Redleigh Gaol."
"One minute," said Lady Wyke, staring across the water. "There is the aeroplane, sergeant. Won't you wait for its arrival, and let we say good-bye to the man I love, and for whose sake I have ruined myself?"
"No. Come along," and Purse laid his hand lightly on her arm, never thinking but what she would obey, "come to Redleigh Gaol."
"Death rather!" shrieked Lady Wyke and, handcuffed as she was, sprang down the path in a moment. How she kept, her balance was a wonder but keep it she did, and before the two on the cliffs could gather their senses together she was down on the beach. The aeroplane came nearer and nearer.
"She means to drown herself!" cried Claudia, and sprang in pursuit, while Purse, wholly taken by surprise, blew his whistle loudly.
At once three or four men came running from the coastguard station, and followed the sergeant down the path. But Claudia, determined to prevent her rival from escaping punishment, was already in pursuit. She soon dropped to the level of the beach, and scrambled over the boulders on to the smooth sands. Lady Wyke was speeding ahead like a swallow, but lingered when she saw Claudia at her heels. The girl got within touching distance of her, when the woman, with an insulting laugh, darted off again. Claudia followed unthinkingly, and almost before she knew what had happened, found herself in the middle of the fatal quicksands, which had been pointed out to her by Neddy.
Lady Wyke was already sinking fast, and laughing loudly. "I've got you; you are trapped! No Redleigh Gaol for me, and no Edwin for you! I'm not beaten yet, I'm not beaten yet!"
Claudia shrieked as she felt herself in the grip of the cruel sands. Purse and the coastguards uttered shouts of dismay, for it appeared to be impossible to save the two women. At once two of the men scrambled back up the cliff to get ropes and boards for the rescue. But all the time Claudia and the rival who had lured her to destruction were sinking deeper and deeper, Lady Wyke, in particular, going down swiftly, as she had ran on to the sands first. Claudia was following quickly. All at once both women heard the buzz of the machine, and looked up to see the aeroplane directly overhead. Edwin dropped swiftly downwards as he recognised the peril, and soon came near enough to recognise who were in danger. With a white face, but perfectly calm, he dropped the rope coiled on the pilot seat, and guided the aeroplane down a short distance above the heads of the two. Lady Wyke uttered a cry of rage as she saw Claudia grasp the rope, and cling to it for dear life.
"It's not fair; it's not fair!" she screamed. "She shan't be saved! Me too; me too!" and she shook her ironbound hands impotently at the aeroplane. Purse and his men looked on aghast, for Lady Wyke was now up to her middle in the sand.
There was no word, from Craver, and no cry from Claudia. The rope had dropped truly, and one end was in her hands, while the other was fastened to the seat of the machine. Edwin kept his engine going at full speed, swung low, and then curved for the ascent. The rope tightened, there came a steady pull, and Claudia was plucked from peril, just as the sands had her in their grip up to the knees. With an angry, despairing cry, Lady Wyke saw her hated rival swinging in the air and borne out of danger as the aeroplane slanted skywards with a rush. Then the pilot descended lower and lower gradually, until the rescued girl, now on firm ground, was able to let go her hold. With a faint moan she did so, and sank insensible on the sands, while the aeroplane rose in the air to sweep upward majestically, to skim over the cliffs, and finally to alight with a run near the barn.
But Lady Wyke saw nothing of this. Swiftly and surely the greedy sands sucked her down into their depths. Her waist, her shoulders, her neck disappeared, while the sergeant and the coastguards looked on helplessly. With ropes and board the rescuers scrambled down the cliffs just as the miserable woman's black head vanished for ever. Without a sound, she went down into the halls of death, by a far more cruel road than the one she had forced her husband to travel. And when Claudia awoke from her death-like trance she was lying in the sheltering arms of her lover.
"Lady Wyke?" she murmured, feebly. Edwin silently pointed to the quicksands, which gleamed and glittered, and appeared to smile in the evening light. There was not a sign of the evil woman who had been swallowed up by them. And the incoming tide began to break in little waves over her nameless grave.