Tod Macandrew was the happiest of men when he and Gerald left Mrs. Pelham Odin's flat on that night. It was all that Haskins could do to keep Tod from executing a war dance on the street. "Remember that you are a solicitor," warned Gerald, "surely you don't want to appear in the police court, otherwise than in a professional capacity."
"I am also a lover," cried Tod fervently, "and I care nothing for the opinion of other people, legal, magisterial or otherwise."
"Ass!" muttered his friend, and shook the arm he was holding. "Come out of your midsummer-night dream, and help me."
"In what way?" asked Tod more soberly.
"I wish to marry Mavis Durham."
"Oh!" Tod became more sober than ever. "Haven't you forgotten her yet?"
Gerald stopped in surprise. "Why in heaven's name should I forget her, you unsympathetic idiot? I love her----"
"And I love Charity," interpolated Macandrew enthusiastically.
"Then show a trifle of it," retorted Haskins, punning on the name, "by helping me, as I have helped you. If it had not been for me, Mr. Toddy, your future mother-in-law would not have consented to this marriage."
Tod shook his friend's hand vigorously. "You're one of the best. Anything I can do--by the way, what am I to do?"
"Forget Charity for ten minutes in the first place, and get into this approaching hansom in the second. I intend to drive you to my rooms."
"What!" Tod pulled out his watch to read the time by the light of the street lamp under which they were standing. "It's past twelve."
"James Ian Robert Roy Macandrew, are you or are you not my legal adviser?"
"Of course I am, and--oh----" Tod broke off hastily.
"I knew that I had something to tell you--about that will, you know."
"Will! Then there is a will?" gasped Gerald, signaling to a hansom.
"Yes. The will of Captain Julian Durham, who----"
"Get in, get in," interrupted Haskins testily, as the cab drew up 'longside, "we have much to say to one another."
Tod jumped into the cab, and shortly Gerald slipped in beside him, after giving his address. When the hansom was spinning along, Gerald turned on Tod sharply. "Why didn't you communicate with me about this will, when you knew how anxious I was?"
"I only learned the truth yesterday," said Tod quickly; "and wrote a letter asking you to call. You should have received it this morning."
"Well then I didn't."
"It's that infernal office-boy. I'll sack him. Probably he has never posted it. Well then, I searched for wills in the name of Durham, made about the time you mention. There are plenty of people of that name, and I had to read through a lot of documents. Finally I found that Captain Julian Durham was your man."
"How do you know?"
"Because the property of Captain Julian Durham is left to his daughter, Mavis."
Gerald uttered so loud an ejaculation that the cabman looked down through the trap, thinking that he was receiving an order. "No, no, cabby; it's all serene. Drive on to Frederick Street." When the trap was closed he addressed himself to Macandrew. "Then I was right?"
"Quite right," assented Tod admiringly, "though how the deuce you knew----"
"I didn't know. But I had an intuitive feeling."
Tod groaned. "Some more of your confounded occult stuff."
"Very good," said Gerald dryly. "I accept the rebuke; but explain my intuition, if you please."
"What is your intuition, exactly?"
"I believe," said Haskins seriously, and choosing his words carefully, "that Mavis has been shut up by Rebb to keep her out of the way, while he enjoys her income."
This time Tod uttered an ejaculation. "I believe that there is something in your occult rubbish after all," he said, in a wondering manner, "for the situation is exactly as you say."
"Ah!" Gerald was triumphant, and would have uttered an exultant speech, but that the cab stopped in Frederick Street. "Here we are, Tod. Get out. How much, cabby? Two shillings? There you are. Wait till I open the door, Macandrew. There! Run upstairs. I'll follow."
Rattling on in this way, Haskins and his friend went up the dimly lighted stairs, for the gas was not full on, and soon found themselves in Gerald's comfortable sitting-room. Haskins lighted the lamp--he detested electric and gas--and passed along a box of cigars to his visitor. Tod was also accommodated with a glass of whisky and soda and a comfortable armchair. Gerald, being similarly provided, leaned forward eagerly. "Now, Toddy, tell me exactly what the will says."
Tod's eyes strayed to an adjacent table. "Why, there's my letter after all. That infernal boydidpost it. I daresay your man didn't bring it up. You should row him, Jerry, and----"
"Oh, bother! Tell me about the will. I can read your letter later."
"Well then," said Macandrew deliberately, "Julian Durham made a will at Brighton, more than twenty years ago, disposing of six thousand a year."
"Ha! Rebb's exact income."
"Yes. Only I think Rebb has five or six hundred a year of his own in addition. The income of Durham was left to his infant daughter, Mavis, and Michael Rebb was appointed her guardian."
"And a pretty guardian he has been," muttered Gerald savagely.
"You may well say that, Jerry. The will says that Rebb is to enjoy the whole income on condition that he educates and brings up the child in a proper way."
"Which he has not done, since Mavis can neither read nor write. Couldn't the will be upset by that, Tod?"
"We'll come to that later. But I would point out that the will provides for Rebb only until Mavis marries. When she marries, the six thousand a year passes to her at once, on her wedding day, in fact, only Rebb is not forced to account for what he has used up to that date."
Haskins jumped up and began to walk up and down, as he was accustomed to do when much excited. "Then I am to understand that, if I marry Mavis, Major Rebb loses six thousand a year?"
"Exactly. He reverts to his original five or six hundred, which apparently he possessed before getting his brother officer to make this preposterous will in his favor, as it practically is."
Haskins stopped.
"His brother officer?"
"Yes! Durham was in a Goorkha regiment, and so was Rebb. Later, I daresay, Rebb exchanged to the West Indies. I always heard that he came from that place."
"Yes. Jamaica," said Haskins mechanically, thinking of Geary. "So this is why Rebb has shut up the girl, and put about the rumor that she is crazy. The plotting beast!"
"He's all that," nodded the solicitor, emphatically, "in that way he prevents Mavis ever getting a husband, and so, while she remains unmarried, he can enjoy his income--or rather her income--in a legal way."
"In a legal way," echoed Gerald, disgusted. "Why, the man ought to be hanged and quartered."
"You can punish him more by depriving him of his income."
"Oh, I'll do that. So far as I am personally concerned, I don't care two straws for the income----"
"Oh, come now. Human nature----"
"I don't go by human nature," interrupted Haskins sharply; "I go by my own feelings. I would marry Mavis without one penny, since my five hundred a year and what I make by writing is enough to keep things going. But Rebb must be punished, and I shall do all I can to deprive him of this six thousand a year."
"There is no necessity to bother," said Tod soothingly, "the thing acts automatically, as you might say. When Mavis becomes your wife the money is paid over--or rather the income is transferred to her on the wedding day. The sole chance that Rebb has of keeping his money is to prevent the marriage."
"Oh, he'll do his best to do that," said Gerald, with a frown, "I'll tell you what, Tod, that man won't stop short of murder."
"Oh, you shouldn't----"
"Yes, I should. Mavis is under the impression that all girls are brought up in conventual seclusion, and are not allowed to see young men. Rebb, for obvious reasons, told her so. But she understands that she is to be taken into the world when she is one and twenty. Her twenty-first birthday is only ten months distant--nine months, in fact. When that time arrives she will want to come out. If Rebb lets her out she will probably be asked in marriage, and then he would----"
"Murder her," finished Macandrew. "Not at all. Rebb is too clever a man to place his precious neck in a noose. When her birthday came, and she turned restive, he would simply have called in a doctor to pronounce her insane and unfit for marriage."
"No doctor would dare to say that: Mavis is quite sane."
"Much can be done with money," said Tod dryly, "and Rebb has six thousand a year at his command. Besides, even if he could find no doctor to swear to her insanity, the mere rumor of such a thing would prevent any man from marrying her."
"I am not so certain of that," said Gerald grimly. "As you said just now, much can be done with money. However, Rebb won't have a chance of working out his rascally plot, whether he means murder or not. I shall go to Devonshire and interview him, and----"
"How do you know that he is there?" questioned Tod quickly.
The question recalled Haskins to a sense of his folly in trusting the widow with his secret. "I have made a fool of myself Macandrew," he remarked soberly, and resumed his seat, "it is my belief that Mrs. Crosbie has put Rebb on his guard, and that Rebb has gone down to Denleigh to thwart my plans for carrying off Mavis."
"Mrs. Crosbie! Jerry, I warned you."
"I know that, and I wish I had taken your warning. Listen!" And Gerald related his interview with the widow, ending with an emphatic declaration that he did not believe she had kept her promise of secrecy.
Macandrew nodded, as he quite agreed with him. "As Mrs. Crosbie is engaged to Rebb, she will not wish him to lose his income, so----"
"Do you think she knows of Rebb's position?"
"Of course. She may not have known it before you confided in her, but she certainly would demand an explanation from the Major, in spite of her promise, when she heard that he was keeping a pretty girl shut up. Mrs. Crosbie is a woman, and as a woman is jealous, Rebb would be forced to tell the truth--that is, how his income depends upon Mavis being imprisoned. When Mrs. Crosbie knew that, she certainly would do all she could to prevent you marrying the girl."
"But Madge has always been my friend," protested Haskins.
"Friendship goes when money is in question," retorted Tod. "I told you that I suspected the widow of being hard up. If I am right, she is marrying Rebb for the money, and both she and he will do all they can to keep that six thousand a year. But," added Tod slowly, "I do not think there will be any murder needed. The insanity rumor is enough to prevent a possible marriage."
"Not with me," raged Gerald, jumping up once more.
"Quite so. Therefore Rebb, on his guard, has gone to Devonshire to work against you."
"I'll follow by the first morning train."
"Take care, Haskins," warned the solicitor. "Rebb is dangerous. A man who would act as he has done will not stick at a trifle. If there is to be murder, you will be the victim."
Gerald held his head very high. "I am not so easily got rid of," he remarked quietly. "However, Mrs. Crosbie and her mother are at Bognor, so they are out of the way. Now I don't like doing underhand things. Tod, as you know, but in this case it seems necessary that these two women should be watched to see if Rebb goes down to see them at Bognor."
Macandrew nodded. "I can arrange that. I'll send a confidential clerk down. It is dirty work, but when dealing with a rascal like Rebb one cannot be too careful. And you will take a revolver with you?"
"Yes; I may have to reckon with Geary, who is Rebb's spy and bully. And then there is Bellaria, who---- Tod," broke off Haskins, "you have been in Italy and know something of Italian, so----"
"I know a great deal," corrected Tod indignantly. "I am excellent at languages: you know that."
"All right, old boy, don't get your hair off. What is the meaning of the word Tána?"
"Tána? It means a den. Caverna, Tána, Antro--all mean a den," he paused reflectively, and Tod threw up his hand before Gerald could answer. "Where have I heard that word? It seems familiar."
"No doubt, when people speak in Italy----"
"I don't mean that. I have heard the word used in a peculiar way."
Haskins reflected, with his eyes on Macandrew. "Do you know anything in connection with the word about a red coral hand grasping a----"
"A dagger," cried Tod, rising quickly. "Yes, of course. When I was in Naples there was some talk of a society----"
"I thought so--I thought so."
"It is called the Tána Society--the Den Society, in English. I believe that it is a collection of cut-throats, who terrorize people with the symbol of the coral hand. The name comes from the idea of the society hiding in a den, and emerging to do justice. It is something like the Sicilian Mafia."
"Quite so," Haskins nodded. "I now understand Bellaria's fear. She ran out of this room as though she were crazy, and indeed she was, for the time being. She apparently thought that I was an emissary of the Tána, appointed to kill her."
"Was Bellaria in town?" cried Tod, astonished.
"Yes. She found out about myself and Mavis, and came up to tell Rebb. I called to see Rebb and we met. She came back with me, and we had a long talk. She hinted about betraying a man called Salviati, with whom she was in love, and talked about hiding from the vengeance of certain people. When she saw the coral hand she ran out crying, 'Tána! Tána!----"
"But how did you get the coral hand?" asked Tod, open-mouthed.
Haskins described how he had taken away Mrs. Crosbie's cigarette-case by accident, and how he had found the hand. In fact he told Macandrew everything, including the whole conversation with Bellaria, and the subsequent visit of Mrs. Berch to recover the amulet. "And this Signor Venosta gave the coral hand to Mrs. Crosbie?" ended Gerald. "What do you think of it, Tod?"
Macandrew sat down gasping. "It's like a confounded penny dreadful," he remarked, ruffling his ruddy hair. "Girls shut up--incomes stolen, and secret societies--oh, Lord! there is going to be trouble."
"In what way?"
"Don't ask me." Tod rose and began to put on his overcoat. "If I were you, Jerry, I should chuck the whole business."
"What--leave Mavis?"
"Yes--if you don't want to get into a row. Rebb may be connected with this Tána Society and----"
"No," interrupted Haskins decidedly, "on the contrary, he is protecting Bellaria from assassination by the Tána, and so is himself in danger of death. But why should Mrs. Crosbie possess this coral hand?"
"You had better ask Signor Venosta, who gave it to her. He is probably a Count Fosco of modern days. But if you insist upon marrying this girl you will involve yourself in heaps of trouble."
"I intend to go down to Denleigh to-morrow and face Rebb," said Gerald determinedly. "Mavis shall be my wife. Meanwhile you must have Mrs. Crosbie watched." Gerald winced. "I don't like it, but I must save the girl."
"I'll do all I can. But I tell you what, Jerry, if you don't return to London in a week I'll set the police on your track."
"Very good! It's a case of marriage or death!"
Haskins was gay, but Tod departed filled with forebodings.
Haskins departed for Devonshire by the eleven-fifty morning train from Paddington, with a great sense of exultation. The necessity of immediate action appealed to his active brain and to his craving for romance. That there was more than a spice of danger in the adventure to which he was committed added to his enjoyment. Notwithstanding his repudiation of Tod's suggestion that murder might be the end of these things he took the precaution of carrying a revolver. After all, Major Rebb was being driven into a highly unpleasant corner, and--from what Gerald knew of him--he was not the kind of man to submit tamely to being beaten. Nor would he readily surrender six thousand a year. He had enjoyed the luxuries of life too long to be content with the mere necessities. And that was only human nature.
However, Haskins determined to beard the lion in his den, which for the moment was Geary's village inn. Gerald himself decided to remain at the Prince's Head, Silbury, since the negro, by Rebb's orders, might make himself highly disagreeable should the young man live under the sinister roof of the Devon Maid. But Haskins was not easily intimidated, and, even though the Major and his underling joined forces to thwart him, he felt quite equal to dealing with them, collectively or separately. Right was on his side, and Gerald had an implicit belief that good was stronger than evil. Those who fought in the cause for which Geary and Rebb were fighting could not possibly triumph.
It was after four o'clock when Haskins arrived in Silbury, and he repaired at once to the Prince's Head. Mrs. Jennings was glad to see him, and gave him his old room. He learned that Rebb in his motor car had gone two days previously to Denleigh, and had not returned to the little town. He was visiting an elderly relative at Leegarth, said the landlady, and Gerald smiled when he noticed how persistently the Major kept up the fiction, to account for his presence in the neighborhood. While he was having afternoon tea he asked questions, and learned to his surprise that Bellaria was the elderly relative.
"She is an Italian," said Haskins, on hearing this.
"One of them nasty foreigners," assented the plump hostess, "of course she is, sir, for I've seen her myself. At times she come to Silbury for marketing, and she went to London the other day, coming back in a broken-up condition, as you might say."
Haskins smiled grimly. He knew well what had broken Bellaria up. "But she can't be any relative of Major Rebb," he expostulated, "he is quite English, Mrs. Jennings."
"Irish, begging your pardon, sir, but it's this way, as the Major told me himself when he stopped here for the night. This Miss Bellaria's parents were Italian, and Major Rebb's were Irish. But his father died and her mother; so her father married the Major's mother, which makes them a kind of sister and brother."
Gerald shrugged his shoulders at this somewhat confused description, and shook his head. "It may please Rebb to call Bellaria Dondi his elderly relative," he said quietly, "but in reality there is no relationship between them."
Mrs. Jennings nodded in her turn. "And he ain't very kind to her," she went on disapprovingly, "for she do look miserable when she comes out of that lunatic asylum, as you might call it."
"Lunatic asylum!" Haskins received a shock. He had no idea that the rumor of Mavis' insanity had spread so far as Silbury. But Mrs. Jennings seemed to know all about it.
"Oh yes, sir, don't you know?" she remarked, earnestly. "Miss Bellaria is set to watch that poor girl, Mavis Durham, who is quite mad."
"Who says that she is mad?" asked Gerald heatedly.
"Everyone," replied the landlady vaguely. "Why, the Major himself told me that she was always wanting to kill people. That is why she is shut up and watched by Miss Bellaria. It would never do, sir, for a lunatic like that to come out. Why, we might all be murdered in our beds."
It was on the tip of Haskins' tongue to deny the insanity of Mavis, for which Mrs. Jennings vouched so staunchly. But to do so would have led to an admission of his secret visits to the Pixy's House. Until he settled with Rebb he did not wish these to be known, therefore he contented himself with another question. "Have you ever seen Miss Durham?"
"Lord! no, sir, nor has anyone else. Miss Bellaria keeps her safely within the grounds of that tumbledown house, and a good thing too, say I."
"Does the house belong to Major Rebb?"
"No, sir--to that poor girl herself. You see, sir, the Durhams were a great family hereabouts for years. But they all died out save one, who went soldiering to India. He was shot in the lungs some months after his marriage at Simla to an English lady, and came home to die. He lingered a year and died at Brighton."
"And his wife?"
"Oh, she died in Bombay, when starting for England, long before Captain Durham was shot. That poor girl at the Pixy's House was born when her mother died, so Major Rebb, who was a brother officer of Captain Durham, took charge of her."
"Has Miss Durham any money?"
"I can't tell you that, sir. What I say is only what I have heard from time to time. I believe that she has the old house of the Durhams, and enough money to keep her. Major Rebb is a good, kind gentleman to take such trouble over the poor thing. Many another gentleman would have shut her up in a lunatic asylum."
Haskins smiled once more, very significantly. He quite believed that if Rebb could have shut up Mavis as a lunatic he would have done so long ago. But, in the first place, it would be difficult to get two doctors to certify to her insanity, and in the second, if the case became known, the use of the girl's money by Rebb might be questioned. The Major had just made sufficient of the story public to save himself from awkward questions, and Gerald foresaw that to extricate Mavis from her false position was a more difficult task than, he had reckoned upon.
However, notwithstanding that things looked thus black, he held to his determination of having an explanation with Major Rebb, and as the evening was pleasant he walked to Denleigh at his leisure. There was more chance of catching the Major at this hour, since it was probable that he would always return to the Devon Maid for dinner. As he was starting, Mrs. Jennings came up to him at the door.
"If you see Major Rebb, sir," she said, in a low voice, "you might tell him that Mr. Arnold has come back."
"Who is he?" asked Gerald, forgetting what Mavis had said.
"A small clever gentleman, with a long beard, who looked after that poor girl for a time. He went away to some foreign port months ago but returned to this neighborhood during the last two or three days. I haven't seen Mr. Arnold myself," ended Mrs. Jennings, "but others have seen him, and I want the Major to know."
"Why?" asked Haskins, looking at her keenly.
"Mr. Arnold behaved very badly to Major Rebb," explained the landlady, "and went away without giving notice. Major Rebb wants to see him, and ask why he left him in the lurch, as you might say."
"I'll tell him," said Haskins, nodding. "Where is this Mr. Arnold now?"
"I can't say, sir, save that he is in the neighborhood."
Haskins walked away, pondering over what had been said. He then remembered how Mavis had called this dwarf Arnold by the name of Schaibar, and said that he had gone to Australia. Apparently he had acted as a kind of companion to Mavis, and possibly as a tutor, although he had not been allowed by Rebb to teach his pupil reading or writing. It occurred to Gerald that the scholar was friendly to Mavis. In that case, he certainly would be hostile to her guardian, as he could not fail to know from personal observation that the girl was perfectly sane, and was illegally detained. The young man felt very certain that Rebb wished to see this Mr. Arnold, not to ask him questions as to the reason for his sudden departure, some months back, but to bribe him into silence regarding the truth. "I shall hunt up Arnold," thought Gerald, as he mounted the rising road to Denleigh, "he may be able to help Mavis and myself. And heaven knows that we shall need all the help and friendship that we can obtain."
The evening was warm, luminous, and intensely still. Haskins did not hurry himself, but sauntered through the lovely country, enjoying its beauty in spite of his anxious state of mind. In the depths of his heart he felt that everything would come right in the end, and that he would some day be able to make Mavis his dear wife. They would then live happily ever afterwards, just like a fairy tale.
Still, in fairy tales, the lovers always have to undergo much woe and sorrow and danger before the end is reached, and this fantasy of real life--as Gerald believed--was to proceed much on the same lines. Dragons had to be overcome, magicians thwarted, enchanted castles had to be stormed: but when these tasks laid upon the fated prince were accomplished he would awaken the princess to everyday life with a kiss, and all the fairies would come to the nuptials. The young man thought allegorically, but there was a bitter truth enshrined in the symbols. And fairy tales themselves are only fanciful pictures of life's mystery: pain must be undergone before pleasure can be gained.
Geary was absent when the traveler arrived at the Devon Maid, and Haskins was not sorry to hear this from Mrs. Geary, who received him. The negro, having learned from Rebb and Bellaria that the castle he had guarded was discovered, would not be in the best of humors and would probably make himself disagreeable. Not that Gerald had any fear of the man; but he wished for an explanation with Rebb before any open quarrel took place. The Major, as a civilized being, would certainly be more reasonable than the negro.
"Is Major Rebb in?" questioned Gerald, when Mrs. Geary had told him of her husband's absence--she did not say where he was, as she apparently did not know, and Geary was not the man to permit questions.
"Yes, sir. He is having dinner in your old room. I am sorry you can't have the room, Mr. Haskins, but the Major----"
"Yes, yes! I understand," said Haskins impatiently, "take my card to Major Rebb, and say that I have come down from London to see him."
Mrs. Geary did this in her stolid way, and shortly returned to usher Haskins into the well-remembered sitting-room. Here he was received somewhat stiffly by the man he had come to see, and the landlady retired, closing the door carefully after her. Rebb looked thinner and more erect, and more reserved than ever. With a silent bow he pointed to a seat, and waited to hear what Gerald had to say. Considering the two men had already met frequently this reception was frigid; but Rebb apparently wished to make Haskins as uncomfortable as possible, so that he might get the better of him. If such was his object he failed to attain it, for Gerald, anticipating this demeanor, was quite cheerful, and very observant. The Major, having finished his meal, lighted a cigar, but did not offer one to Haskins. This was a sign of war, and Gerald accepted it as such.
"You are surprised to see me," he remarked, keeping his eyes on Rebb's dark high-bred face.
"Not exactly," answered the other coolly, "my man told me that you wished to see me in London, and of course I found your card, when I returned. I regret that I could not see you then, but I had to come back here on business."
"To see your elderly relative, no doubt."
"Bellaria Dondi. Precisely. Well?"
"Why fence in this way, Rebb?" asked the young man, "you have heard from Bellaria that I----"
"Yes," interrupted the Major, leaning forward and gripping the arms of his chair with an angry expression on his face, "Bellaria has told me of your secret visits to the Pixy's House. I must say that you have behaved very badly, Haskins. This is not the kind of thing I expected from you."
"Really," Gerald raised his eyebrows, "we have not been intimate, that you should expect me to consider your feelings."
"Since my future wife was your mother's friend and is yours," said Rebb, with dignity, "I was quite willing to admit you to a certain degree of intimacy. Now the case is altered."
"Because I love your ward?"
"No. Because you went by stealth to see her. If you had come to me, I could have explained her unhappy condition."
"I am quite certain that you could," retorted Gerald, looking straight at his enemy, as he was convinced the Major was, "but is there any need of an explanation? Everyone hereabouts declares that Miss Durham is insane, and not responsible for her actions."
A flash of pleasure came and went in Rebb's dark eyes for the moment, and then he looked hypocritically sad. "Poor girl! It is only too true."
"I don't agree with you there," said Haskins quietly.
"Indeed, and on what grounds?"
"I have had several interviews with Mavis, and I am quite certain that she is as sane as you or I."
"If so, why should I shut her up?"
"Ask your own conscience."
Rebb struck his hand fiercely on the table. "You go too far, Haskins, in saying that. I am not forced to account for my actions to you."
"You may not think so," said Gerald, feeling that they were coming to close quarters, "but I do. I love Mavis, and wish to marry her."
"It is out of the question."
"Why?"
"She is--as I declare--insane. If you married her, she would probably murder you in your sleep."
"I am willing to take the risk," said Haskins, with a contemptuous smile. He saw that Rebb was trying to make the best of his position.
"I am not willing that you should," retorted the Major.
"Ah! but the decision lies with me. Mrs. Crosbie----"
Rebb looked furious. "What has Mrs. Crosbie to do with this matter?"
"Has she not told you?"
"Told me what? I have heard nothing from Mrs. Crosbie."
Gerald privately apologized to himself for having doubted the little woman, but determined to have no further misunderstanding. He spoke out. "I saw Mrs. Crosbie when I was in London, and asked her to help me to marry Mavis."
"Not even for Mrs. Crosbie's sake can I consent to that. A marriage of that kind would be a sin. How dare you tell my private affairs to my future wife?" And Rebb again struck the table.
"Gently, Major, gently! I am not to be intimidated. I asked Mrs. Crosbie to help me, as she is my mother's old friend, and I have known her much longer than you have. She refused to help me."
"Ah!" cried Rebb, gratified. "I knew that she loved me."
"But she agreed to keep what I had told her a secret from you, for at least a month, on condition that I took no steps meanwhile to run away with Mavis. From what you say, I understand that she has kept her promise, and I have done her an injustice. I fancied, from your sudden departure to this place, that she had told you."
"Mrs. Crosbie has told me nothing," said Rebb coldly. "I came down here because I heard that Bellaria had been up to see me. Also I had a line from Geary saying that something was wrong. I came down at once, and was informed that you had been spying out my private affairs."
"Don't call hard names, Major," said Gerald coolly. "I admit that I was wrong to speak to Mrs. Crosbie, seeing that she is engaged to you. But I am putting that right by coming here for an explanation, and I absolve Mrs. Crosbie from her promise. But I was not wrong in obeying the invitation of the sealed message. Any young man in my position would have done the same."
"Ah, the cylinder!" cried Rebb angrily, "Bellaria told me of that, as Mavis confessed to her what she had done. Who would have thought that the girl would have communicated with the world in that way?"
"Why should she not communicate with the world?" asked Gerald sharply.
Rebb saw that in his hurry he had made a mistake, and tried to get out of it. "Why? Because she is crazy!"
"And for that reason she has not been taught to read or write?"
"Exactly! The doctor said that if she were educated, or if her brain was subjected to any strain, her homicidal mania would be intensified. Out of sheer pity for the unfortunate girl, I have had her kept in ignorance."
"I see!" said Haskins, thinking that the excuse was extremely skilful. "Then Mr. Arnold taught her nothing?"
Rebb started; the cigar fell from his fingers, and he turned pale. The mention of the name evidently worried him not a little. "What do you know of Mr. Arnold?" he demanded.
"Only that he is, or was, Mavis' tutor in some sort of odd way. And that reminds me: Mrs. Jennings of the Prince's Head gave me a message for you, Major. Mr. Arnold, she says, has returned from Australia, and is in the neighborhood."
"Stale news, Haskins," said Rebb, recovering his wits. "Geary found out, at least a week ago, that Arnold was traveling round the country, in a kind of gipsy caravan, selling books. It was about Arnold that Geary wrote to me. I came down to see into the matter, as Arnold is a rascal. But I also learned on my arrival, from Bellaria, that you had been taking an interest in my affairs!" And he sneered.
"In the affairs of the woman I hope to make my wife!" said Gerald imperturbably.
Rebb rose stiffly. "Mr. Haskins," he said, in a most ceremonious manner, "had you come to me in the first place, and without acting in this underhand manner, I should have told you that such a marriage is impossible. I tell you so now, and beg to end this interview."
Gerald rose also. "As you please, Major Rebb. After all," he paused at the door, "six thousand a year is worth fighting for."
Rebb gasped, again turned pale, and fell back into his chair.
"Do you still wish me to go?" inquired Gerald politely, and half opening the sitting-room door.
"No," cried Rebb sharply. "Shut that door again and explain yourself."
Haskins returned to his seat. "Does what I say need explanation?"
"Certainly. You insinuate that my income has to do with Mavis."
"You place the matter in a nutshell, Major. It has."
Rebb rose again, with the look of a man at bay. "You dare to----"
"I dare anything in the cause of Mavis," interrupted Gerald imperiously. "Don't make any mistake about my attitude, Major Rebb. If you act honestly, I am here as your friend; but if you declare war I am willing to accept your challenge."
If a look could have slain the bold speaker, Haskins would have dropped dead where he stood; but he bore Rebb's fierce gaze without flinching, and waited for him to speak. The Major made a gigantic effort, and gained control of himself sufficiently to open his mouth for a quiet question. "Where did you learn this?" he demanded.
"From the will of Captain Julian Durham at Somerset House."
"Indeed! More spying!" sneered the other, but his lip quivered.
Haskins shrugged his shoulders, and took scarcely any notice of the insult. "That is a weak speech to make," he remarked.
Rebb passed a handkerchief across his pale lips. "Who told you about the will?" he asked quietly.
"It was more an intuition than anything else," said Haskins, anxious to shield Mrs. Geary, whose chance words had put him on the track. "I saw that Mavis was sane, and that you were shutting her up for some reason. Money was the reason that suggested itself."
"And you searched in Somerset House?"
"Not personally. Macandrew did that, as my lawyer."
"Great heavens!" stormed Rebb, growing darkly red, "is Macandrew in this affair also? Will you tell me, Mr. Haskins, how many people you have succeeded in interesting in my private business?"
"Only Tod and myself know about the matter so far--I refer to the will, of course. But others may come to know of it, unless----"
"Ah," said Rebb quickly, "now we are coming to the gist of the matter, Mr. Haskins. Unless what?"
"Unless you give Mavis her proper position in the world----"
"And consent to your marriage with her, I suppose?"
Haskins bowed. "You save me the trouble of an explanation."
"There is another explanation to be made," said Rebb, trying to appear calm, "and one that in justice to myself I must make. The will----"
"Pardon me," interrupted Gerald coolly, "but Mrs. Jennings knows all about your ward's alleged insanity."
"Her true insanity," cried Rebb warmly, "everyone in Denleigh and Silbury and Leegarth knows about the poor girl, and that she is watched by Bellaria Dondi."
"Your useful, elderly relative. Just so. And does all the neighborhood know about Julian Durham's will?"
"Anyone who goes to Somerset House can learn what he wishes, as you have done," retorted the Major. "I am not bound to make my private affairs public down here. You apparently are trying to do your best to provide gossip for the neighborhood."
"Well, yes. I mean to get Mavis out of the Pixy's House."
Rebb jumped up and banged on the table furiously. "I defy you. Yes, I defy you," he almost shouted, "and you shall not get her out of that house. She is well treated, and----"
"One moment. I never said that she was not well treated," said Gerald swiftly, "but, badly as you are behaving, I presume your conscience does not allow you to ill-treat Mavis, seeing that you are enjoying her fortune."
"Take care! Take care! I may strike you."
"By all means. It will give me the chance to take you into court for assault and make the matter of the Pixy's House public."
"Ah," Rebb looked scathingly at the bold speaker, "you are afraid."
"Oh no. If you strike me, I shall probably give you a good thrashing, which, to my mind, you richly deserve. In an ordinary case I would thrash you and let you go: but my desire is to force you into taking up a public position of defence."
"I am quite willing to do so," said Rebb violently, "you can employ Macandrew or any lawyer you like. The will is in my favor, and I have carried out its provisions."
"Pardon me, but that is just what you have not done. Mavis, by the will, was to be educated. She can neither read nor write."
"The doctor said----"
"Produce your doctor who said that her brain could not understand, or could not bear teaching. It is no use, Major. Whatever you may say about Mavis, to suit your own ends, you are well aware that she is perfectly sane, and that you are keeping her shut up in the Pixy's House to enjoy her money."
"You dare--you dare----"
"I dare now, and I shall dare in open court," retorted the young man.
"I wonder I don't kill you," muttered Rebb, in impotent fury.
"In the first place you can't; in the second, if you did you would only be tried for murder instead of conspiracy."
"Conspiracy? Conspiracy, damn you?"
"Yes, against the liberty of a subject."
Rebb had proved himself to be a brave man in several South African engagements, so it was not fear that prevented him from falling upon the man who thus defied him and meddled with his most private affairs. But with all his fury--and he could scarcely articulate for rage--he was sufficiently master of himself to know that to strike Haskins would only force him into open court. Rebb had no wish that the will of Durham and his guardianship of Mavis should be a topic of conversation with his friends, or appear in print for the delectation of the public. He therefore kept his hands down by his sides, and subdued his wrath, as best he could. But the effort nearly choked him.
"You have said all that you can say, Mr. Haskins," he growled, in a guttural voice filled with menace, "so you can go."
"Certainly," rejoined Gerald again. "And your attitude?"
"I stand by the will of my brother officer," said Rebb, with suppressed fury, "I enjoy the Durham property until Mavis marries. She is not fit to marry, being insane, therefore----"
"You will enjoy the Durham property until the end of your life."
"Yes!" said Rebb determinedly, "I do hold to that. Mavis has all she wants and is happy where she is."
"Because you have filled her mind with lying tales of English girls all being brought up in seclusion as she is being brought up. But on Mavis' twenty-first birthday, Rebb, when she hopes to come out into the world? What then? How will you restrain her? Will she be happy then?"
"I am not bound to tell you of my plans regarding my ward," said the Major stiffly, "on her twenty-first birthday I shall know how to act."
"Good-night!" said Gerald abruptly, and made for the door.
"Stop," cried Rebb imperatively. "What aboutyourattitude?"
Haskins wheeled at the door. "I love Mavis, and I intend to make her my wife. That is my attitude."
"I see," sneered the Major; "you are after her money."
The insult was too contemptible to be noticed. "Think what you like, Major, only remember one thing. If you harm Mavis in any way, or transfer her to another hiding-place, I shall hold you accountable."
"In what way?" questioned the other contemptuously.
"I shall find some relative of Mavis, and get him or her to contest the will. That will bring everything out."
"Very probably, but Mavis has no relative. Julian Durham was the last of his race, and so, since his wife was dead, left his child for me to look after. Had he or she any relative I should not have been appointed guardian. I stand by the will. Good-night."
Gerald hesitated, and wondered whether he would say anything more, but on second thoughts he decided to hold his peace, and abruptly left the room. After all, there was no more to be arranged. He knew the attitude which Rebb had taken up, and Rebb knew his attitude. It only remained to fight for possession of the girl.
As Haskins walked back to Silbury, in the rapidly gathering darkness, he admitted that Rebb's position was a strong one. Mavis was perfectly happy, and had all she wanted. The loss of liberty did not trouble her, since she had the spacious grounds of the Pixy's House for a playground, and, moreover, thought that all English girls were brought up in the same way. Had she known that this was a lie she might have fretted after liberty, and then there would have been some ground to go upon. But were she taken into court she could not deny but that her guardian had been kind, and had given her all she required. This reasoning was all in favor of Rebb.
Then again, since Rebb swore that Mavis was insane, he was quite justified in shutting her up, so long as she was treated kindly. Certainly could she be proved to be sane, his position would then be a very awkward one, as it would force him to explain why he had used the girl's money all these years, while keeping her in durance vile. But, as Tod had said and Gerald had echoed, "much could be done with money," and if things came to be made public Rebb might be able to bribe a couple of doctors to certify to Mavis' insanity. In that case she would be shut up in a public asylum, and Rebb--after setting aside a certain sum for her maintenance--would enjoy the Durham income for the rest of his wicked life. The plot was very cunningly arranged, and in standing by the will Rebb took up an almost unassailable position.
Many another man would have been daunted by the difficulties thus presented by a survey of the position. But Gerald was in love, and to a lover nothing is impossible that stands in the way of his gaining his mistress. Haskins did not know for the moment exactly how to act, but in one way or another he determined to force Rebb's strong hand. By warning Rebb he had certainly put him on his guard against any possible elopement: but he also had forced him to behave in a more or less straightforward manner. Knowing that he was watched the Major could not smuggle Mavis into another hiding-place.
During the conversation Gerald had intended to mention Bellaria's dread of the coral hand, so that he might learn if it was really the Tána Society that she feared. But the chances were that Rebb would not have told him, and moreover the introduction of a new subject might have complicated matters. Haskins therefore congratulated himself that he had kept silence. Also, for the moment, it was unnecessary to draw Rebb's attention to the wonderful likeness between Charity and Mavis. Doubtless Rebb was well aware of it, and it was more than likely that Rebb could explain it. Still, bearing in mind Mrs. Pelham Odin's offer to pass off Mavis as Charity, should it be necessary, Gerald resolved to hold his peace. At one moment he was inclined to storm the Pixy's House secretly and elope with Mavis, hiding her, as above, under the name of Charity, who would then be out of the way as Mrs. Macandrew. But Rebb would know who had taken Mavis away, and--standing by the will, which gave him the guardianship of Mavis until she was twenty-one--would make dire trouble. Gerald did not wish to be arrested, as he could do little good for Mavis if imprisoned.
It only remained then to return to London and to see Tod. In one way or another some start could be made towards extricating Mavis from the clutches of her guardian; and when the start was made the desired end would be reached sooner or later. Gerald therefore determined to leave Silbury next morning, and to begin his campaign forthwith, assisted by Tod. He felt very reluctant to leave the neighborhood without seeing Mavis, but he was forced to. Bellaria would now be on her guard, if he attempted to climb the wall. And Gerald was very certain that Geary had been sent to watch the Pixy's House by his precious master. Haskins had a revolver, as opposed to the yellow-handled knife about which Mavis had talked, so he did not fear the encounter. But an open struggle would only damage the position of Mavis, and impede any plans made for her rescue. Knowing that Rebb had the will, and swore to the reported insanity of Mavis to strengthen his attitude, Gerald was extremely anxious to move cautiously. In sheer desperation Major Rebb might call in the assistance of the law. Much as Haskins wished to force the man's hand, he did not want to do so by placing himself in the wrong. To take Mavis from the guardianship of a man appointed by her father's will, would be a disobedience to the law of which Rebb would take full advantage.
As the night was warm, Gerald, having plenty of time, did not hurry himself. There was no moon, and the stars were covered with dun-hued clouds. Very little light, therefore, came from above. Nevertheless, the night was not entirely dark, as a faint luminous radiance was everywhere spread, and he could pick his way along the highroad very easily. Although, following Tod's advice, he had his revolver in his hip-pocket, he never thought that it would be necessary to use it. Major Rebb, as a civilized being, had refrained from actual violence, much as he apparently desired to use it. But then, he would only have taken to his fists. It was far otherwise with Geary. That semi-civilized savage would undoubtedly have taken to his yellow-handled knife.
In the usual way in which intuitions came to Haskins, the thought of this knife unexpectedly flashed into his mind when he topped the last rise of the hills. Already he could see the glimmer of the Silbury lights, and paused a moment to watch them, shining like stars under the muggy canopy of the heavy sky. But the knife-thought remained, and he turned his head uneasily from side to side, scenting danger, by his sixth sense. The feeling passed, and then came again stronger than ever when he began to walk on once more. He glanced back, and then swerved to one side, just in time to avoid the rush of a big black form which hurled itself out of the shadows. It was Geary, who dashed towards him, missed, wheeled, and flung himself again on the young man.
Haskins had walked to Denleigh in his flannels, as the evening was so close, so he was a sufficiently easy mark in the semi-darkness, showing whitely like a negative against the gloom. Geary clutched him in his powerful arms before he could swerve again, or draw his revolver, and then Gerald realized with a shock of surprise that, save for a pair of dungaree trousers, the man was naked. Not only that, but the upper part of his body had been rubbed with oil, and he slipped about like an eel. Geary made no remark, nor did Gerald speak, but the two men, the one big and burly, the other lithe and wiry, wrestled together for mastery. Haskins believed that Geary wished to get him down and stab him, but could not see if he held a knife. He certainly did not in his huge hands, but he might have had it strapped, sailor fashion, in the small of his back.
Without a word the two men swung and swayed, Geary wriggling and pressing Gerald downward with his great weight. But Haskins had lately taken lessons in jiu-jutsu, of which the negro was apparently ignorant; so he suddenly gave way, with an unexpected relaxing of all the muscles. Geary uttered a guttural ejaculation of anger and surprise as he felt the looseness of the young man's body and found a moment afterwards that his big arms were empty. By making himself small, so to speak, Gerald had slipped out of the negro's grip, and darted back with lightning speed. When Geary swung round again to the assault he found himself facing a revolver.
Nothing daunted, his hand slipped round to the back of his dungaree trousers, and a moment later Gerald saw the steel glitter in the dim light, as Geary rushed forward with uplifted hand. Haskins did not wish to kill the man, as he was a necessary witness to save Mavis, so he winged him. The bullet struck the negro's right arm, and the knife dropped, as he howled viciously. Apparently dreading another shot, he sprang aside and then backward, and vanished. For some minutes Gerald heard the pad-pad-pad of his bare feet on the highway, and became aware then, for the first time, that he had escaped a great danger.
Picking up the knife, he replaced his revolver in his hip-pocket and walked swiftly towards Silbury, wondering if Rebb had sent the man to kill him. If so, Geary had failed, and as there was no chance of another attempt being made on that night Gerald did not trouble himself on the way to the town. He swiftly resolved to say nothing of his adventure, especially as any publicity might lead to revelations being made at the moment, while Mavis' fate swung in the balance. But later Gerald determined to bring Geary to justice. He had the evidence of the knife. At the first street lamp he stopped and looked at the weapon. It was a dangerous piece of steel--a bowie knife, but the handle was of black wood. What then had become of the yellow-handled knife which Mavis feared so greatly? Gerald was too weary, and ached too much with his late struggle, to think over this problem. He therefore postponed all consideration until next morning.
On reaching the Prince's Head he sat down to an excellent meal, and held his peace about his adventures. After dinner he drank some coffee and smoked a couple of pipes. Then he went to bed about ten o'clock, or a trifle later. Shortly, in spite of the late excitement, he fell asleep.
When he awoke it was nine o'clock in the morning. Feeling somewhat bruised and stiff--for Geary's grasp was like that of an octopus--he decided to remain in bed, instead of taking the morning train to London. The afternoon train would do, he decided, so he rang for his breakfast to be served, intending to rise at midday. The chambermaid took his orders for breakfast, and seemed to be flustered, but before he could make inquiries she ran out of the room.
Later, Mrs. Jennings herself arrived with the breakfast-tray, and looked excited as she placed it on the bed.
"Oh, Mr. Haskins," she cried, with shining eyes, "such terrible news. That mad girl at the Pixy's House has murdered Miss Bellaria, and has bolted."
"It is impossible," gasped Haskins, starting up in bed.
"The milkman from Leegarth has just brought the news, sir."