After that interview with Frisco, Dr. Jim took Stephen straight off to Saxham. There was nothing left for him to do in Town. Frisco was in prison and safe enough. Joyce shut himself up in his flat, and would not even reply to the note Herrick wrote him. Belcher--for obvious reasons had not called at the Guelph Hotel,--and with his partner was keeping out of the doctor's way. Jim saw Frith for a brief few minutes, instructed him to see after the defence of Frisco, and then drove to Paddington where Marsh-Carr awaited him. By favour of the guard and five shillings they secured a smoking carriage to themselves. When the train was fairly out of the town, and whizzed through a desolate winter country, Dr. Herrick looked at Stephen.
"What do you think of it all?" he asked lighting his pipe.
"This story of Frisco's?"
"Yes. It's a living truth. I can see by your face that you wish to believe the man a liar. He is, but not in this instance. What he says is absolutely true. I saw his eyes when he spoke. The tongue may lie, but a man's eyes--" Jim shook his head.
"But it can't be true," cried Stephen looking white and worried, "good heaven's Jim, if Sidney really shot Carr, think of the disgrace to Ida and Bess. Ourselves! I don't mind that. But these poor girls."
"Well," said Jim after a pause, "you see it's not so bad as it might be. I am sure you must know of the estimation Sidney is held in, round about Saxham. If it comes out that he shot the Colonel, no one will express any surprise. It's no slur on the girls, Steve. Sidney is looked upon as something beyond the pale of humanity."
"What will they do with him?" asked Stephen anxiously.
"If he really did commit the crime, he will be placed in an asylum. The boy is too queer to be judged by ordinary standards. Frisco cleared out although he knew Sidney had killed Carr, because he thought no one would believe the boy had done it. The suspicion certainly would have rested on Frisco. He would have been wiser to have given himself up. But for the reasons I told you of--the same reasons that kept him quiet under the Colonel's unjust appropriation of his property---Frisco preferred to cut. He is wiser, now that he has had time to reflect over the matter. His devilries in the Americas were done under other names, and as Joyce he will not be wanted in San Francisco. I daresay if he had not been caught he would have given himself up in the long run. It was the Don he was afraid of. Now the Don is away, Frisco is convinced he will be set free."
"He must stand his trial?"
"Certainly. I have told Frith to see after him. But his defence will be that Sidney killed the man. There is no way of averting that. The question in my mind," said Herrick looking at Marsh-Carr "is, whether the boy really did do so."
"Have you any doubt on the subject?" asked Stephen eagerly. "I have a great many doubts," replied Jim dryly, "and until the person who really murdered Carr confesses, I shall continue to doubt. You see Steve, ever since I took up this matter I have been following up false trails. Every person I have stumbled upon, and to whose guilt the evidence at the time procurable, pointed, has laid the blame on some one else, who in turn has passed on the guilt to another party. I suspected Joyce. He accused Santiago. The Don said Pentland Corn was guilty. Corn declared that Mrs. Marsh had fired the shot. Now we know from accurate evidence that all these persons are innocent. Frisco was suspected from the very first. He is caught and swears--truly enough according to his own belief, that the boy murdered the Colonel. How do I know but what Sidney may be able to prove his innocence, and accuse someone else. The chain may go on endlessly so far as I can see."
"I understand the difficulty," replied Stephen wearily, "but I cannot for the life of me see why Sidney should kill the man."
"There comes in the queer character of the boy," said Herrick "he detested the Colonel--said he was a bad man. He might have got into his head in some way or another that such a man was better out of the world. If so, he would make no more account of killing Carr than he would of putting a fly out of existence. Indeed he would rather spare the fly, for I have noticed that he is tender to all that breathes."
"But would he keep quiet over the matter?"
"I think so. Sidney was never the boy to talk. Then there is the pistol Stephen. That is an old-fashioned weapon that a boy might buy in Beorminster for a few pence, or he might have found it in the lumber room of the Grange--there are many of these ancient firearms to be found in the houses of old families. If Sidney dropped across such a weapon he might have then concluded to kill Carr. You see, from the account of Frisco, that he came down the Tower stairs and said, quite calmly, that the Colonel was dead. He may just as calmly admit to me or to you that he killed the man."
"Mad! Mad!" groaned Marsh-Carr, "he must be mad."
"No. That does not follow. The boy is strange. There are things about him which I cannot explain. So far as I can see Sidney does not come within the range of science. That foretelling of your mother's death, and his extraordinary statement that you were in danger, puzzled me beyond words. I must believe, because I am convinced by the evidence of my own senses. All the same I cannot explain or understand. There are laws of Nature with which we are unacquainted. I believe that this boy comes under some unknown laws. You cannot account for the actions of such a person. The boy would do things which we should call wrong, yet he would see no harm in doing them. If he is guilty, he will be put away in an asylum. At the same time I am sure he is perfectly sane."
"I am puzzled myself about him," admitted Stephen, "and he is a most uncomfortable boy to have about one. Still I have always found him upright and honourable. I have never known him to tell a lie. But he must know all about this case and how Frisco has been accused."
"I'm not so sure of that. Sidney lives with his head in the clouds. He perhaps has heard that Frisco has been accused, but, as the man does not now come across his path, he never thinks of any possible danger to him. Again Stephen, that silver bullet is queer."
"How do you mean queer?"
"Well you know the mediæval superstition that a warlock can be killed only by a silver bullet. A thing of that sort, is exactly what would appeal to the dreamy nature of Sidney. He is something of a mystic himself remember. He might have taken it into his head, that Carr was a warlock who had dealings with the devil"--
"I am sure he would have every reason to think so," said Marsh-Carr, "if any man was hand in glove with Satan, my uncle was that man."
"You see what you say yourself. Then Sidney thinking in a less sane fashion on the same subject might have considered it his duty to deliver the world from such a wizard. He would certainly then use a silver bullet, thinking (according to the mediæval superstition) that the man could not be killed by ordinary lead."
"It's all theory," said Stephen gloomily, "and fantastic at that."
"As you say--all theory and fantastic," admitted Herrick, "but you must remember that we are dealing with a fantastic nature. But we must see this boy and question him when we get home."
"He will deny everything."
"On the contrary if I know anything of the boy, he will calmly admit what he has done."
"You will not tell Bess or Ida?"
"That would be unwise. We must be certain of Sidney first. We shall say nothing to-night, but get Sidney to come over to 'The Pines' on the morrow and ask him frankly if he killed Carr."
"Bess is sure to ask you about Frisco," said Stephen.
"Oh, I can baffle her curiosity," replied Herrick. "I shall tell her nothing about my visit to the man. All about his arrest she can know."
"I think it will be better to hold our tongues altogether Jim. Ida is getting worried by this incessant mystery, although she knows very little."
"I'm sure I don't wonder. I'm worried myself. However, we must learn what we can from Sidney. I hope to Heaven the lad is innocent, but if he is not, I don't look upon him in the light of an ordinary criminal. He is a freak of nature. Were I put into the witness-box I could not say on my oath that he is mad."
"Let us drop the subject," said Stephen who looked haggard, "I am getting nervous and anxious."
Jim acquiesced in this sensible view and the two betook themselves to the magazines and newspapers. Until they arrived at Beorminster, they said little to one another, and even then were--for them--taciturn. A groom and cart awaited them, and they drove to Saxham in silence. It did not do to talk of Sidney with a servant at their elbows. But curiously enough the groom had news for Stephen, which brought in the name of Sidney.
"Please sir, that Italian woman----"
"What's the matter with her?" asked Herrick who was driving.
"She is very ill sir, and it is said she will die."
"Die!" echoed Stephen in surprise.
"She was not bad enough for that when I saw her last. What do you think Herrick?"
"She looked very sick certainly, but so far as I can judge was in no immediate danger of death. Who says this Parry?"
The groom sunk his voice to a whisper, and seemed nervous, "Master Sidney," he said.
Both men looked round at this. Then at each other. Herrick was the first to break the silence. "When did Master Sidney say that Parry?"
"Yesterday sir. Mr. Napper, he met him in Beorminster in the Cathedral Square about four o'clock. He asked him joking-like where he was going. Master Sidney said, just as quiet as he does speak sir, that he was going to see the Italian woman die. Napper was that taken aback you could have knocked him down with a feather sir. Then Master Sidney said she would die in two days, which I take to mean sir, that she'll go off to-morrow. And I'm sure she will sir," added Parry with conviction.
"Is this story known Parry?" asked his master rather vexed.
"No sir. Napper went at once to see Miss Endicotte when he came back to Saxham. She asked him to say nothing about it, but he had already told Phelps the gardener sir. Then Phelps told us all sir, but we have said nothing outside about it."
"See you don't then," said Stephen sharply, "the first of my servants who says a word will be discharged, mind that Parry."
The groom touched his hat and relapsed into silence. "Where is Master Sidney now Parry?" asked Herrick after a pause.
"At the house in Beorminster sir. He has been there all night. Miss Endicotte went over, but she could not get him away. He says he must stay there until the Italian woman dies sir."
"Humph! You need say no more Parry," and the doctor drove on in silence. But Marsh-Carr knew from the way he urged the mare, how perturbed he was over this information. Stephen was upset himself. There was something disquieting about everything in connection with Sidney.
After dinner at "The Pines," Herrick made Stephen lie down, as he was yet far from strong, and walked across to Biffstead. Here he saw the two girls and Frank, who were very much troubled by this latest freak of their brother.
"I don't know what to do with him," said Frank, "I went over and insisted he should come home. I took him by the shoulder to force him out of the house, but he got in such a passion that I thought he would have a fit. So I left him until you came back."
"You go over and get him away Jim," implored Ida, "you have more influence over him than anyone else. I have gone and Bess also, but he will not come. We can't carry him back by main force and make a scandal."
"I'll go," said Herrick, "but I did not know that I had any influence with him. He is a lad one can do nothing with. How does the old woman take his telling her she is about to die."
"She is quite calm. Evidently she thinks Sidney is a kind of prophet. He is telling her not to be afraid and talking the queerest things to her. I am sure Sidney is mad," sobbed Ida, "he will be shut up in an asylum someday."
Herrick said nothing. The poor girl little knew how truly she spoke. If Sidney had indeed killed Carr, he would certainly be shut up. Considering his extraordinary character, perhaps this would be all the better for his friends and relatives, if not for himself. "I will go over in the morning," said Herrick on reflection, "he may be more reasonable in the morning. I am beginning to understand him a little."
"I'm sure I don't," said Ida, and Frank echoed her opinion. This was natural enough. No man is a hero to his relatives.
All this time Bess said nothing. While Jim was away, she had worried much over her brother's freak, but now that the doctor had returned she was satisfied that all would be well. Herrick exercised over Bess, the same influence he did over most people he came into contact with. Stephen and the girls, were both more than ordinarily intelligent, but they deferred to Jim in a most remarkable manner. If any one could manage Sidney, Bess felt that Herrick was the man. Jim was not so certain himself. The boy had never come under his influence, and in his own calm way held his own against everyone.
"What about Frisco?" asked Bess who had followed Herrick down the avenue, "has he really been arrested?"
Dr. Jim nodded. "Santiago betrayed him to some private Inquiry Agents I employed," he said, "a mean shabby piece of work Bess. Joyce put it down to me. I assured him that I had nothing to do with the matter, but he refused to believe me."
"He is so mean himself, that he cannot believe any good of other people," said Bess scornfully, "what is to be done now about Frisco?"
"I am thinking," replied her lover evasively, "when I have come to a conclusion I'll tell you Bess. But I fancy the end is in sight."
"I hope so," sighed the girl. "I am so tired of this anxiety."
"Shortly you will have no more, dear," and Jim took her in his arms to kiss her good-bye, "the night is dark, but the dawn is breaking."
Next morning Dr. Herrick walked over to Beorminster. He left Stephen at home although the Squire wanted to come also. "No," said Jim, "it is best for me to speak to the boy alone, I'll get more out of him." And Stephen recognised that this was the more sensible course.
It was eleven o'clock when Herrick rapped at the door of the Beorminster house. It was opened by Sidney, who looked calm and complacent as usual. "I heard you had come back Dr. Jim," he said.
"Did your prophetic instinct tell you that?" asked Herrick testily.
The boy was so difficult to understand that he could not help feeling annoyed. A' man over thirty does not like treating a lad of sixteen as his equal. Yet Sidney somehow compelled that respect.
"No," replied he sweetly. "I am very stupid about some things. When a thought comes to me, it comes. I cannot call it."
"Then the thought came to you that Petronella would die?"
"She will die Dr. Jim. Two days ago I felt that she would die. So I came over to see her. She was afraid of death, till I talked to her. Now she is quite peaceful. She does not fear."
"Are you afraid of death Sidney?"
"Why should I be? I know."
"You know what?"
"That there is nothing to be afraid of." The boy spoke quite serenely and without any suggestion of pose. He had conducted Herrick to the dining-room and the two were seated opposite one another. On the table were the remains of Sidney's breakfast,--a glass of milk, some fruit and a loaf of bread. "I had to get these myself," he said, "Petronella is in bed in Mrs. Marsh's room. She is very ill."
"I knew she was ill some time ago," replied Herrick trying to assert himself, "but I think I can cure her."
"She will not live," said Sidney, staring in the most unwinking manner at Dr. Jim. "She will die before sunset. I know."
"Can you explain how you do know?" asked the doctor roughly.
This time it was the boy who was puzzled, "I can't," he said. "I feel that Petronella will die. I can say no more than that."
Herrick groaned. It was useless to try and understand this extraordinary lad. Evidently he did not understand himself. Yet his former prophecies had come to pass so absolutely, that Dr. Jim could not help thinking that this last would come true also. However, this was not the business about which he had come. "Sidney," he said after a pause, "do you know that Frisco, who used to be with Colonel Carr, has been arrested?"
"I heard Bess say so."
"What do you think of it?"
"I never thought of it at all. He is in no danger, Dr. Jim. It was not Frisco who killed Colonel Carr."
"How do you know that?" asked Herrick startled. Was the boy about to confess that he was guilty.
"I was in the house just after Colonel Carr was killed."
"Oh! Then you did not shoot him yourself?" Sidney frowned, but appeared very little disturbed.
"Why should I have killed him?" he said calmly. "Colonel Carr was a wicked man. I told him he would die by violence some day. But he only laughed at me. He thought I was mad or a fool. You do also, Dr. Jim."
"I don't know what to think," said Jim angrily; "I never met anyone like you before, Sidney. If I had not some knowledge that the things you say come true I should think you were pretending. A boy like you ought to be whipped."
"That is what the Colonel said," replied Sidney quietly. "But tell me, Dr. Jim, did you really think I had killed him?"
"I did not. But Frisco says you did."
"If he believed that, he would not have run away," said Sidney shrewdly.
"Well come to the point. Who murdered the Colonel?"
"Petronella," said Sidney.
Herrick rose up with a look of surprise. Astonished as he was he could hardly help laughing. This statement bore out his speech to Stephen. He had said that Sidney would accuse someone else. Now it only remained for Petronella to shift the blame on to the shoulders of a third party. "I do not believe that," said Herrick, "why should Petronella kill Carr?"
"You had better come up and hear what she has to say Dr. Jim."
"In a moment. But tell me how you know--through your instinct?"
Sidney shook his head. "No. That feeling only comes at times," he said. "I do not pretend to know everything. I said so before. I don't know why you should look on me as queer Dr. Jim," he continued plaintively, "it is not my fault if things come into my head. When they do, I sometimes tell people, but not always. I don't like being laughed at."
"You're a queer fish," muttered Dr. Jim, annoyed by this human problem he could not understand. "I should like you to be examined by a committee of doctors."
"They would not understand Dr. Jim, and I can't explain. But you want to hear how I knew. Well on the night Colonel Carr was killed I went to the Pine wood after seven o'clock."
"Had you any premonition that he would be murdered?"
"No. I had no feeling of any kind. I was in the wood for some time. At half past seven I felt hungry, but I did not want to go to Biffstead as I knew Ida would try and keep me in. It was raining, but I did not mind that. I like the open air where I can breathe. A house makes me choke."
"I understand. Go on."
"As I was hungry I thought I would go and get something from Colonel Carr. I sometimes went to see him, though I did not like him. He was always kind to me, although I think he was afraid. Well I went into the house just before eight."
"You said half past seven just now."
"I did not go in at once," said the boy, with a gesture of irritation; "do not interrupt me, Dr. Jim. I went to the dining-room and found the dinner on the table, but the Colonel was not there. I took a piece of bread and some water. While I was eating I heard a shot. I wondered what it was."
"You did not feel that murder was been committed?"
"No. Why should I have felt? I Just wondered what the shot might be. After a bit I went out into the hall to see if the Colonel had come in. I thought he might be out. I saw Petronella run through the hall and out into the night. I wondered what she was doing there, and followed her, but I lost her as she went through the woods. Then I walked about for a time, up till nine. I thought again about the shot and went back to the house. I went up the tower and saw Colonel Carr lying dead, so I knew Petronella had killed him. I came down the----"
"How was it you did not meet Frisco, who had gone up to see the Colonel?"
"I heard someone coming and went into a lower room. I thought it might be Petronella coming back. I saw it was Frisco and saw him come down again. Then I came and said to him 'He is quite dead,' and went out. After that I went on the moor. Then some time afterwards I heard three more shots. I saw Bess and her lantern and went home."
"Why did you say nothing of all this before?" asked Herrick. "There was no reason. If Frisco had been caught before, I should have told you. But he had got away, and I did not think it was right to tell about Petronella. Colonel Carr was a wicked man, and he deserved to be killed. He did a lot of harm," said Sidney, with a shudder.
"How comes it you tell me now, Sidney?"
"Because Bess told me Frisco had been arrested. He is wicked too, but I did not want him to be hanged for shooting Carr, as I knew that he was innocent. I came over to see Petronella, for I had a feeling that she would die, and I wanted to know from herself before she died if she was guilty. She denied it at first, but I said I would not go away until she told me all. That was why I stayed all night. She tried to run away. I said I would tell the police."
"That was unlike you Sidney."
"No, it wasn't," replied the boy positively, "I knew that Petronella was the one who shot Carr. If she did not confess, Frisco would be hanged--"
"You never thought you might be accused?"
"No. I did not do it," replied Sidney calmly, "why should I be accused?"
Herrick sighed impatiently. The boy could not, or would not, understand, "I suppose then Petronella confessed in the end."
"Yes. I made her write it down that she killed Carr. It is in Italian but I do not know the language. You must see that it is all right Dr. Jim. I did that because I thought she might die before you arrived. But now that you are here, come up and see her. I will go for Inspector Bridge."
Dr. Jim was aghast. Here was Sidney in a new character. "Why for Bridge?"
"He must hear her confession," said Sidney putting on his hat. "Perhaps she has written down something different in the Italian. I will give you the paper when I come back. But I must go for Bridge," and Sidney, before Herrick could say a word, was out of the room. Dr. Jim heard the front door close behind the boy.
"There is not much insanity about this act," muttered Herrick to himself, I shall see Petronella at once, he smiled grimly, "I wonder who she will accuse," he said.
In the room where Mrs. Marsh had died, and in the same bed, lay the old Italian woman dying also. She was sitting up, with a red woollen shawl wrapped round her bony shoulders, and her lean hands told her rosary. Whatever views Sidney might have instilled into her regarding life beyond the grave, Petronella still remained within the fold of Peter. She was muttering prayer after prayer with feverish haste and the black beads slipped quickly from between her fingers.
The room was dusty, dark and untidy. Near the bed was a bottle of Chianti and some bread, but the flask was full and the loaf untouched. Petronella was past earthly food. Herrick saw the mark of death on her yellow face. She seemed pleased to see him and not at all afraid. Receiving him with a chuckle, she interpreted the look in his eyes.
"So he has told you, that young Signor," she said in her own tongue, "ah! I thought he would. It was time--but too late Signor Dottore--too late for the prison. I go into Purgatory. Ten pounds for masses Signor. You will see that they are said. Then I may get into Paradise to rest. I need rest. All my life I have worked hard. The Good God will not be hard on poor old Petronella."
Dr. Jim took a chair by the bedside, and felt her pulse. "You need nourishing food Petronella," he said soothingly, "a cup of soup now--"
"Eh! Eh Signor Dottore that 'will not help me. I am dying. You do not know. I have never told you. Cancer Signor--a bad cancer. I shall die."
"I may be able to--"
"No, I do not want that. They would put me in prison. Let me die. The young Signor said I would die. It is foolish to live. I will go to my Padrona and explain."
"Then you did shoot the Colonel, Petronella?"
"Si! Si!" the old woman coughed, "he was a devil-man. He was cruel to my padrona, to the young Signor. Also he had the evil eye. Hard to kill. Oh, yes," she chuckled, "but the silver bullet--ah yes the silver bullet." Dr. Jim looked at her in silence. He wondered that he had not suspected Petronella before. After Bess had told him about the bullet, he had been certain that the person who had fired the shot, was of a superstitious nature. Mrs. Marsh being Italian might have thought of the same thing. But she was educated, and above such folly. Petronella, a woman of the people with feudal instincts, had clung to that wild belief of the Middle Ages. She was the one person of Dr. Jim's acquaintances, who would have dreamed of such a thing, and her, he had not suspected.
"Why did you use a silver bullet Petronella?"
"Eh! the man was a diavolo--a witch creature--he had the evil eye. Did I not meet with an accident after he had over-looked me. It was better he should die, rather than live to ruin the Signora. A silver bullet. Only in that way Signor can those aided by the devil perish. I am not sorry. No. It was a good deed. The young Signor said so."
"All the same Petronella I must tell you that Frisco is accused of this murder. He is in prison. It is unfair that he should suffer for what you have done, so you must make confession."
"I have done so Signor Dottore. I wrote with my own hand in my own language, that I Petronella had slain this devil-man with a silver bullet."
"Even so," said Herrick, "but I want to write down your confession myself. You can sign it and the police officer can witness it. Thus, will the man who is in prison for your crime be saved."
"The police," echoed Petronella, "ah, I knew they would come. But they will not put me in prison Signor. I die. I die, and that soon. Eh! as you will. You have been good to me. I will do what you want. Yonder in the corner Signor--the padrona's ink and pen--also the paper. Write down what I say, and I will sign. What does it matter now I die."
Dr. Jim found the materials and placing them on the little round table looked at Petronella. She nodded and muttered a prayer, then began to speak in her usual rapid manner. She spoke in Italian, but Dr. Jim for the benefit of Bridge translated it into English. Luckily Herrick was an excellent linguist and found no difficulty in doing this.
"Signor," began Petronella, "it happened in this way. I was at the house of that devil-man with the Signora--oh a long time ago. The padrona went to ask him for money. He refused, the cursed robber,--and we were so poor--so poor. My signora the last of a great race, poor. Gran' Dio. It was evil that she should be poor. But the devil-man would give not one lira. Ah no! He kept all. I was angered, because of my padrona. I saw on the table a cup of silver, and that I took."
"You stole the cup?"
"Why not. My padrona was poor. That devil-man saw me, he struck me--yes, even me Petronella a free Italian. And he over-looked me with his evil eye. I shuddered. I knew that I would have an accident. And the next day I hurt myself. Ah the wicked wretch. I gave back the cup, as he made me. But when we went down the stairs I took another of silver. This time he saw me not, and I carried it here under my shawl."
"What did Mrs. Marsh say?"
"My padrona was angry. But I did not care. I did not sell the silver cup as she was angered, but I kept it, yes, for the silver bullet--"
Herrick looked up from his writing. "Had you made up your mind then to kill Colonel Carr?" he asked.
"No, not then. I should have liked to: because he cast on me the evil eye. Ah Dio mio I made horns, but it was no use. I had an accident. No Signor Dottore I did not wish to kill him then--very much. Later on when the will--the will--"
"Did you know about the will?"
"Si! Si! It was that Frisco told me. I was in the market. He also, and he had the wine in him. He talked foolishly, and said that his Signor would make another will leaving all the money to him. I saw that my poor padrona and the young Signor Stefano would be ruined. I came back and told the Signora. She was angered. Then she said she would go to see this devil-man. Signor," here Petronella clutched Herrick by the wrist, "I knew that my padrona had a temper. She could rage. I feared what she might do. I watched---eh! yes, I watched. She was to dine with the padre at Saxham, and then see the wicked Signor."
"Did you not know she would see him in the afternoon?"
"No! She said she would go about nine and see him. That after his dinner he would be in a good temper and might not do this wrong. Signor, I saw that she took with her a pistol."
"The revolver of Mr. Marsh?"
"Si! Si! She took it from the case in the room of the young Signor Stefano. I saw her. I knew that if the devil-man laughed at her she would kill him. Yes. She would."
"No, Petronella," said Dr. Jim soothingly, "she only meant to frighten him. So she said in the letter you gave me."
"No Signor," replied the old woman indignantly, "the daughter of the Micholotti would not be so weak. She would have killed him."
"Upon my soul," muttered Herrick, "I believe she would."
"I was in great alarm Signor," went on Petronella. "I thought if she did so, that she would be put in prison. It was terrible to think so. I was angered against the devil-man. He had struck me; he had looked upon me with the evil eye. Now he would tempt my Signora to kill him and so be put in prison. I saw that all would be lost. Then I said to myself, to me Petronella, that I would kill him alone."
The old woman drew herself up in bed, and looked majestic as she spoke. Herrick was profoundly sorry for her. She had carried her feudal instinct to excess, and so had jeopardised her life for the sake of her mistress. He understood well how she had been urged to this. The blow, the evil eye, the possibility of her young master being ruined by another will, and above all, the chance that her Signora might kill the man herself--a fiery faithful creature like Petronella could not let such things be. As she said, she made up her mind to kill Carr, before Mrs. Marsh could see him. Where she made the mistake was, that she thought her mistress would see the man at night. As a matter of fact she did, but already had seen him in the day. Perhaps Mrs. Marsh guessed what Petronella might do, and she had told a falsehood about the time of calling at "The Pines."
"When the Signora departed," said Petronella, rocking to and fro, for she was in pain, "I got my pistol. Si, Signor, it was the pistol of my husband. He fought for the King when we freed Italy. I too, was in the war. I shot many--oh many. He showed me; I was not afraid to shoot."
"This piece of information showed Herrick how it was Carr had been shot through the heart. Petronella, having been in the Italian war of liberation, knew how to handle firearms. Probably she was an excellent markswoman. The shooting of Carr proved her to be so.
"I had bullets," said Petronella, "but they were of lead. I knew that the devil man protected by the Wicked One, could not be slain by only a leaden bullet. I wanted a silver one. Ah Gran' Dio! there was no silver in this house. Then I thought of the cup I had taken. I got it and melted it down over a big fire. I made three bullets in the mould of my husband. I took his powder flask, but it was empty. The young Signor Stefano had powder in his room--I stole it. Then I loaded the pistol and set it aside till the night."
"Where was Mr. Marsh all this time?" asked Herrick.
"He was in the house in the afternoon, and went to eat with a friend of his, Signor Barker--"
"The newspaper editor," said Dr. Jim. He remembered that this was the man who looked after the Beorminster Chronicle and took an interest in Stephen's poetry, "he dined with him?"
"Si Signor, and said he would not be back till late. He was to bring home the Signora from Saxham. I was all alone and I saw what I could do."
"And what did you do Petronella?"
"I hid the pistol in my shawl and walked to Saxham. I got there before eight. I went to the big house, I found it empty. I climbed the stair where I knew the devil man would be in the tower. He was standing by his bed dressed to eat. He took up a pistol but let it down when he saw it was only old Petronella."
"You mean he still held the pistol?"
"Yes. I waited for a moment as he stared at me, and then shot him. I aimed for the heart," said Petronella hugging her knees. "The silver bullet went through the heart. Oh, my husband showed me how to shoot Signor."
"What did you do then?"
"I made sure the devil-man was dead. He fell on his face. Then I went down the stairs. I saw someone, I did not know who it was. But the young Signor told me he was there. I ran through the pine wood, and he followed, I hid behind a tree, and then after a time I got home. No one knew that I had been out, and when the Signora and the young Signor Stefano came back I said nothing. The Signora looked white. She said nothing to me but I knew that she had seen the devil-man. What did I care. She could not kill him again. That is all Signor."
"You lost the pistol?"
"I lost my husband's pistol," said Petronella precisely, "it dropped from my pocket when I ran, I did not care. No one would know that it belonged to me. Then I heard Frisco had gone. I was glad. They would not think I had killed the devil man."
"Didn't Mrs. Marsh suspect?"
"My signora? No. She said nothing. I was certain she had fired the other three shots for I know my signora. Also I looked at the revolver in the case when she put it back."
"If Frisco had been arrested at once would you have spoken out?"
"No. Frisco was a bad man too. I would be glad if they put him in prison."
"Why do you tell now then?"
"The young Signor made me tell. Ah! he is a terrible young Signor. He makes me afraid. He said I would die, and that I must tell at once or he would speak to the police. Well I have told and I die. Have you all down Signor. I will sign. Ah! Dio mio!" she started up in bed, "the police."
It was indeed Bridge who entered with a red face and astonished eyes. He was followed by Sidney looking calm, just as though the Inspector had not been scolding him all the way because he had not told about Petronella before. But it took someone stronger than Inspector Bridge to frighten Sidney. For a moment the Inspector stared at the bed, and at his prisoner as he regarded the old woman. Then he spoke to Dr. Jim.
"This is an extraordinary thing sir," he said slowly.
"Very," assented Herrick, "I only knew of it myself an hour ago."
"I thought this young gentleman was telling me a lie."
"It is the truth," said Petronella pointing to Herrick, "the Signor has written all down. Here, see me sign my name, and you can say I signed it."
Inspector Bridge wanted to talk, but Dr. Jim made him a sign to be silent. The old woman was sinking fast and there was no time to be lost. With great difficulty she signed her name. Herrick and Bridge appended their signatures, and all was over.
"This will set Frisco free," said Bridge, "and now I must see about getting a warrant out for this woman."
"It is too late," said Dr. Jim, "she is dying."
"She won't die," said Bridge with a disdainful smile, "all this is done to cheat the law. I have a policeman downstairs. He shall come up and watch her, while I go for a warrant of arrest."
"She will die before sunset," said Sidney calmly, and went to the old women. He took her hand. "Good bye Petronella. You will be happy soon. You know what is to be done."
"Si Si. I know. I am happy. I will go to my husband," said Petronella. Then she looked at Dr. Jim with a worn smile. "I did it for my signora," she said, "you can go. You can do me no good now."
Herrick saw that well enough. However he went to see if he could get a nurse to heat some soup, and revive the woman. To be sure it was little use bringing her back to health and strength just to hang her. But Dr. Jim acted for the best. He went out with Sidney and the Inspector, leaving two policemen in charge. Bridge had the confession in his pocket, and intended to go up to town to deliver it into the hands of the proper authorities. Frisco had to be released seeing that he was innocent. "And I always thought he was," said Bridge lying in the most shameless manner.
Sidney looked after the man with a queer smile when he went away. "He is only wasting time," said the boy.
"We may keep the old woman alive till to-morrow," said Herrick.
Sidney shook his head. "She will die before sunset," he said.
Out of sheer perversity Dr. Jim wanted to thwart this prophecy. He saw that bad as Petronella was, she could be kept alive by stimulants, and this he intended to do, if only to baffle this extraordinary boy. For once in a way, he wished to prove Sidney in the wrong. The boy perhaps guessed his intentions, for he smiled again, and then said abruptly, that he was going back to Saxham.
"Will you tell them what has happened?" asked Herrick.
"No," replied Sidney, after a pause, "I am not fond of talking. You can tell them if you like."
"Very good," said Dr. Jim coolly, "then you ask Ida, Frank, and Bess to be at 'The Pines' about five o'clock. I shall return by that time and then everything can be explained. Thank heaven we know the truth at last. It is about time the matter came to an end. Will you be at 'The Pines' also?"
"I am going to have a long sleep," said Sidney. "I feel very tired."
He turned away with a nod, and Herrick stared after him. Jim was a doctor of the most advanced school, he had studied much, he was quick in seeing things, and on the whole prided himself on his knowledge. But he could make nothing of Sidney. The boy and his ways were beyond him altogether. Sidney would have baffled a committee of Doctors.
Herrick searched for a nurse and found one speedily, for he knew where to go. He brought her back to the house, and set her to heat some soup. Then he gave various directions, sent out for certain medicine, and did what he could to revive the strength of the old woman. Bridge allowed Petronella to have the bedroom to herself, but he kept the two policemen in the house and got out his warrant. Nothing was known in the town about the matter, as Bridge wished to wait until all was in order before telling the public. He foresaw that glory would accrue to him by the story he intended to tell. He had resolved to give Sidney and Herrick no more credit than he could help. Dr. Jim guessed as much when he heard Bridge talking. But he was rather pleased than otherwise. He did not want this latest freak of the uncanny changeling to be talked about. Besides, Bridge amused him. He was so very human in his love of praise.
His philanthropic work being ended, Herrick walked back to Saxham. He reached 'The Pines' some time after five, and already found the assembled party impatiently expecting his arrival. Sidney, it appeared, had just said sufficient to pique the curiosity of his family. He hinted that some untoward event had occurred with which Herrick was connected, but refused to say what it was. Then he had retired to bed in full daylight, and announced that he was going to sleep for twenty-four hours. What was to be done with such a boy.
"He grows more eccentric every day," sighed Ida.
Stephen laughed, "Oh! his eccentricities are harmless enough. That is if---" here he caught Herrick's eye and hesitated. He did not know but what Sidney might have confessed the crime of which Frisco accused him.
"Oh! that's all right," said Jim cheerily.
"What is?" asked Bess, wondering at the sudden relief expressed on Stephen's face. "Jim, you have something to tell us."
"Yes. Something very important--about the murder."
"The murder of Carr," cried Frank astonished. "Oh! I thought that was done with long ago."
"On the contrary," said Dr. Jim, "I have been working at it all these months trying to learn the truth. Stephen and Bess have been helping me."
"Well," said Ida, looking from her lover to the doctor, "I do call it mean. I should have been told."
"It would only have worried you, dear," said the Squire.
"But what is the difficulty?" cried Frank puzzled. "Frisco killed the Colonel. There was no secret about that."
"Frisco did not kill Carr," said Herrick, "the jury were wrong, so were we all. It was Petronella who shot the man."
Stephen jumped up, as Bess uttered a cry of amazement. "Petronella," he stammered. "Thank God! Sidney did not do it.
"Sidney!" cried Bess and Ida in a breath.
Herrick hurriedly explained. "Frisco accused Sidney because he was in the house at the time of the murder. That was when you were looking for him, Bess. Do you remember?"
"I should think so," she cried. "No wonder I could not find him. But Petronella. Was the pistol hers and the silver bullet?"
"What are you talking about, Bess dear?"
"Let me explain," said Dr. Jim, before Bess could answer Ida, "it is a long story and I think you will find it interesting." And then Herrick told the whole complicated case from the time he and Joyce found the dead body of Colonel Carr in the Tower which now no longer existed. He was frequently interrupted with exclamations of horror from Ida, and of rage from Frank. When he ended, the latter jumped up. "If I meet that little wretch, Joyce, again," said Frank, "I'll break every bone in his body. The idea of trying to mix up Bess in the matter."
"He has received a worse punishment than a thrashing," said Stephen, "I think you can leave him to the punishment of destiny, Frank."
A babel of voices ensued. Everyone was talking at once, and for fully an hour they discussed the case in all its bearings.
"I suppose Frisco will be released now," said Bess triumphantly. "I knew that he was innocent. I said so all along."
"All the same he is a bad lot," remarked Herrick, "the less we have to do with him the better."
"I don't think he'll come down here again in a hurry," said Marsh-Carr thankfully, "and Santiago has sailed for Mexico. Thus we are rid of the whole gang. Hullo! What's that?" It was a violent ringing at the door, and Herrick started to his feet, looking perturbed. "I hope nothing is wrong now," he said. "I am getting so nervous with all this, that I am always expecting the worst of tidings."
As he spoke, the footman ushered in Inspector Bridge, in a state of excitement. The man could hardly speak, and was scarlet in the face with suppressed rage and alarm. "I beg your pardon," he said to the company; "but this woman--Petronella----"
"What is the matter?" asked Dr. Jim.
"She is dead."
All looked at one another.
"And before sunset," remarked Herrick, thinking of Sidney. "How did it happen, Bridge?"
"She had a bottle of chloral under her pillow, and while the nurse's back was turned, she drank it. I was called, too late. She is as dead as a door-nail, and has spoilt a most beautiful case."
Leaving the others to discuss the matter with Bridge, Herrick hastily excused himself. He ran across to Biffstead, and up into Sidney's bedroom. The boy was sleeping quietly, but Dr. Jim woke him promptly.
"I say," he cried, shaking the boy's shoulder, "she is dead."
"Petronella," said Sidney drowsily, "I know she is. I said she would die before sunset."
"You told her to take that chloral."
"No," said Sidney in a sleepy manner, "she wanted to take it before she confessed, but I stopped her. But she was bound to die; I said she might get out of the world more easily if she took it. I daresay she died quietly--in a sleep."
"You have behaved shamefully," cried Herrick wrathfully.
"No. She was bound to die in any case. Why should she not die as she pleased? Go away, Dr. Jim, I want to sleep," and Sidney closed his eyes.
Herrick, in the face of this calmness, was helpless, so he departed. The boy had baffled him to the very end.