Bewildered as Herrick was by the strangeness of this discovery, he had nerve enough to pull himself together and go for assistance. In spite of the lateness of the hour, the Carr Arms was full of labourers drinking and smoking. A number of these came at once to the churchyard when they heard of the accident--for so Herrick put it---and Stephen was carried to his house. Herrick had ascertained before seeking assistance that his friend still lived. Meanwhile Sidney had revived, but was in a drowsy state. "I want to go home," he said. Herrick after whispering him to say nothing of the vision seen in the ink-pot, sent him to Biffstead in charge of the landlord Napper. Then he accompanied the body of his friend to "The Pines." Herrick could not help thinking of it as the body though he knew Stephen still lived. But it was quite probable that he would be an actual corpse before the dawn.
"Mr. Marsh-Carr has met with an accident," was the explanation of the doctor to his helpers, and they went away. But they knew very well that it was no accident, and moreover the presence of Sidney besides the body hinted that another wonderful event had taken place.
"Master Sidney said that his mother was dead," remarked the wiseacres, "and he has found the dead body of Mr. Marsh himself now!"
"He is not dead," said others.
"Ah! But he will die. Master Sidney, never makes a mistake." And by the next morning a legend had been circulated that the uncanny boy, had foretold the death of the new Squire. When those who called at 'The Pines' heard that Marsh-Carr had lived through the night, they were quite disappointed. It seemed a reflection on Master Sidney. Yet the boy had held his tongue and no one knew really what had happened. In default of the truth then, they took refuge in a fable. There was absolutely no authority for what was said, but Sidney had been found unconscious beside the unconscious Squire. That was enough material out of which to form a wonderful story, and it lost nothing in the telling.
Meanwhile, Herrick fulfilled his duties of medical attendant to his friend, smiling grimly the while, that the need should come so comparatively early in their acquaintance. He had known Marsh-Carr but a little over five months. The meeting had taken place in July and it was now near Christmas. The doctor examined the wound on the back of the head. It was a nasty jagged cut, evidently made by some blunt instrument. "A big stick as the boy said, no doubt," mused Herrick as he plastered and bathed and bound it up. "Stephen is stunned for the time being, but I do not think that the brain is injured. His head is pretty hard. Frisco had good intentions, but not sufficient judgment to strike hard." For of course it was Frisco who had done this. Dr. Jim remembered what Mrs. Marsh had said and regretted that she had passed away without informing him more fully of what she knew about Frisco. That the ex-sailor should dare to come down to the scene of his first crime in order to commit a second (for at the moment Herrick credited Frisco rather than Joyce with the Carr murder) was wonderful enough, but his reason must be more wonderful still. It was impossible that he should be able to get the fortune even if he put Stephen out of the way, for he was a proven murderer, and if he showed himself would be at once arrested. Certainly he might explain all suspicions away, but that was doubtful in the face of such strong evidence. Yet, apparently he had made up his mind to remove Stephen, and get the money.
"But he won't if I can help it," muttered Herrick, "the beast. I'll carry Stephen to the vault myself so that the terms of the monthly visit may be fulfilled. Not that I don't think he will be on his feet sooner than Frisco expects. The job had been badly done."
He sent in a message to Beorminster by a groom, telling Bridge of the new outrage and advising a search to be made for Frisco. Then the patient having been attended to and the would-be assassin recommended to the attention of the police, Dr. Jim could do nothing more. He sat before the library fire and smoked, thinking deeply the while.
"I wonder if Joyce attempted this murder," he thought. "There is something queer about this stopping here. But that boy said Joyce was at Biffstead talking to his sisters, if I believe one part of that vision--and I am bound to do that--I must believe the other. Not Joyce then, but there is Don Manuel, he is connected with Robin in some underhand way. Besides, he professed to hate Carr, to regret the loss of the treasure. It might be he, if he has been with Corn all the night well and good--if not, he will have to account to me for his time. I do not believe in the little reptile."
His meditations were ended by a sleepy servant who announced Ida, Bess and Frank. With them came Joyce wide-eyed with wonder; but so far as Dr. Jim could see there was no sign of terror or of guilt on his face, and Robin was not the man to conceal his feelings.
"Napper brought home Sidney and told us of this dreadful thing," said Bess who seemed the most collected of the party. "Is he--is he--"
"No, he is not dead nor do I think he will die. The blow was badly aimed."
"Who could have done it?" asked Frank frowning.
"I have my own opinion, but I prefer not to express it at present," said the doctor somewhat curtly.
"I want you to take me to him doctor," said Ida looking at him with imploring eyes. "Let me watch beside him."
"You can do no good Miss Endicotte," replied Herrick, "better let me look after him. To-morrow you can come over and watch if you like. I think he will recover consciousness before the dawn."
"Thank God for that!" cried Ida devoutly and then she wept. The strain on her had been very great and she was glad of the relief of tears.
"Have you looked for the man who did this?" asked Joyce.
"I have sent a message to the police at Beorminster," said Herrick without looking at him. "You can do no good Joyce; better go back to the inn. By the way your friend Santiago?"
"He has been with Corn all the night," said Frank, "we met them coming here. They had just heard the news, but Bess persuaded them to stay away thinking they would only bother you."
"I think it is best to keep the house as quiet as possible. Has Sidney said anything?" he asked looking at the sisters.
Ida clasped her hands in terror. "Did Sidney say this would happen?"
"Yes. He looked into yonder ink-pot and foretold the assault. I cannot understand the thing myself, but we can talk of it to-morrow. In the meantime, all of you hold your tongues about Sidney."
This they all promised to do and now being more at rest in their minds about Stephen, they went away. Herrick drew Bess aside at the door. "Come over with Ida to-morrow morning," he muttered, "I want to speak to you."
She nodded and ran after the rest who were disappearing into the darkness. Herrick with a frown returned to the library. "It was not Joyce," he muttered, "it was not Manuel. After all it _must_ be Frisco. Well, if the police are clever they will catch him before he can leave the district. Ha! I'll send a message to Southberry, it was that way he escaped last time."
Herrick hastily wrote out an explanation. He did not need to add a description of Frisco as the hand-bills had sufficiently described him. This he sent off with another groom, then went to pass the night beside the bed of his patient. All that night Stephen lay as still as a corpse.
It was towards morning when he moved and showed signs of returning consciousness. Herrick was assiduous in his attendance, and success crowned his efforts. Gradually Stephen came to himself, with a dull pain in his head, weak, but quite himself. "Where--where am I?" were his first stammering words.
"In your own house," said Herrick quickly, "don't talk my dear chap; you have had an accident."
"I remember," muttered Stephen, "at the vault, a blow,--yes, and--"
"Be quiet," said Herrick sternly, "you must not talk I tell you!" And after another attempt Stephen obeyed. Shortly he fell asleep. Herrick drew a long breath. The worst was over. For once the villany of Frisco had failed in its object.
Several people called that morning, amongst others Mr. Corn. The clergyman did not look well, and hurriedly asked after the sufferer. "I hope he is better," he said, "a terrible affair Dr. Herrick!"
"A cowardly crime!" said Herrick sharply. "However we can talk of that when Marsh gets better. Meantime Mr. Corn, will you tell me if Don Manuel was at your house last night?"
"Dear me, yes," replied Corn surprised. "He came to dinner, and stayed with me up till midnight. I was walking with him to the Carr Arms, when we met the Miss Endicottes who told us of this terrible business. Why do you ask me the question Dr. Herrick?"
"I have no special reason," replied Herrick mendaciously, "save that being in a sense responsible for the visit of Santiago to this place, I wish to warn you that I know nothing about him."
"Have you anything to say against his character?" asked the rector sharply.
"No! I know nothing about him. All I can say is that I do not like the man, and I think he is a bad lot. If you like to tell him this Mr. Corn you are at liberty to do so."
"I am not the man to make mischief," said Corn hotly, "so far as I can see Don Manuel appears to me to be perfectly respectable. If he is not, I can look after myself Dr. Herrick."
"I beg your pardon," said Herrick ceremoniously, "I did not wish to infer that you could not. All I have to say is that Mr. Marsh is better, and that in a week he will be about."
Pentland Corn murmured something about being pleased, and took his departure. Herrick did not quite know what to make of the rector. He was a good preacher, a kind-hearted man, and in his own way, clever. But he seemed to be weak, and usually had a haggard look on his face for which there was no apparent reason. Sometimes he went away to the sea-side for his health and invariably returned looking worse than ever. Altogether the man was a mystery, and Herrick could not make out what was at the back of his timidity, and his restless behaviour. "I seem to be surrounded with mysteries," said Herrick to himself. "I wonder if I shall ever get to the bottom of any one of them. If I do, the rest will easily be unravelled. I suspect the whole lot are of a piece."
Ida came that morning, and Bess. This latter young lady waited in the library while Herrick took up Ida to the room of Stephen. She had insisted upon going up to watch beside him. "It is my right you know," she said to Dr. Jim, and he silently admitted that it was.
Stephen had just opened his eyes when they entered. He tried to speak, but Ida placed her hand on his mouth and Herrick frowned. Marsh obediently held his tongue, and Ida sat by his bedside. However the patient managed to kiss Ida's hand. Then Herrick went down to see Bess, warning Ida that Stephen was not to speak. Marsh did make another attempt but Miss Endicotte would not allow it. "The doctor says you are to be quiet. If you say a word I shall go away."
"The ring?" murmured Stephen, looking at her.
She knew what he meant. Drawing the emerald ring he had brought her from town off the finger it was on, she put it on the engagement finger.
"Will that please your lordship?" said Ida gaily, but the tears were in her eyes. Stephen looked again. Thus was the situation adjusted between them without words. They were engaged to be married. Stephen fell asleep again holding the hand of his promised wife. Both were happy.
Meantime Bess and Herrick were in consultation. Herrick told the girl what Mrs. Marsh had said about Frisco, and how Stephen had been struck down from behind. "So it looks to me," he said, "as though this man were trying to get the money."
"It does," admitted Bess reflectively, "but why should Frisco do all these dreadful things to get the fortune? If he had Colonel Carr in his power he need not have killed him; nor need he now try and get Stephen out of the way. I don't understand it. However, as you have told the police both at Beorminster and Southberry, I am sure the man will be caught. I hope so I'm sure."
"Ah! Then you champion Frisco no longer?"
"No, if it were really he who attempted to murder Stephen I hope he will be caught and punished. All the same I do not think he killed Colonel Carr."
"What can be your reason for saying so?"
Bess hesitated. "Some time ago I promised to tell you something about the Colonel," she said. "I will do so in a week from to-day."
"Why not now?"
She shook her head. "Please do not ask me, but as far as this assault on Stephen goes, I am quite with you about Frisco. I hope he will be caught and punished."
"You are a strange girl," said Dr. Jim, "and a mystery like the rest."
"Who are the rest?" asked Bess smiling.
"Well," replied Jim after a pause, "Mrs. Marsh was one, you are another and Pentland Corn is a third--"
"Pentland Corn!" she echoed turning pale, "you don't suspect him of--"
"I don't suspect him of anything, but I do not understand why he is so intimate with that Mexican."
Bess opened her mouth to make a remark, then she changed her mind. "I can say nothing now," she said abruptly, "later on. Ida is with Stephen. Oh, well, I need not wait. I must go into Beorminster. They will be asking for news of this for the paper. I might hear something about Frisco there. If I do I shall let you know. Good-bye!" and before Herrick could stop her she was off like a swallow.
Evidently Bess knew something about Corn which she did want to admit at present. Herrick wondered what it could be. Surely she did not think the clergyman had liked Carr so much that he was working for the discovery of his murderer. "But she is doing some detective business on her own account," thought Jim rather vexed. "She will get into trouble if she does not take care. I wish she would let me know what she is up to. I'll wait a week, no longer. After that, she must speak out."
But before the week was ended, accident brought about a confession from Bess which Dr. Jim was far from expecting. It arose out of the wooing of Robin Joyce. Whether Manuel had used his influence or not to induce Joyce to leave Saxham, it is impossible to say. If he had, one would have thought that Robin would have resented the interference of his former friend Herrick. But several times during the week he met Dr. Jim, yet made no sign that Santiago had told him of the doctor's wish. He continued to haunt Biffstead and Dr. Jim hardly ever went there without meeting Robin coming or going. This did not make Jim any the more amiable.
The accident to Stephen caused great excitement in the country. Bridge came over to see the squire and to interview Dr. Jim. But nothing came of his talk or--so-called vigilance. The police both at Southberry and Beorminster failed to find any trace of Frisco, although the railway stations were watched carefully. Thanks to Herrick's prompt action, it was impossible that the man could have left the district without the knowledge of the police, yet he was not even seen. Bridge went to Heathcroft, but failed to learn that anyone resembling the ex-sailor had boarded a train at that station. To all appearances Frisco had not been in the neighbourhood. Yet if Frisco was not the culprit, who was?
Herrick knew that Joyce had been at Biffstead on the evening of the assault. According to the evidence of Corn, Don Manuel had been at the rectory till midnight. As the assault on Stephen took place shortly after eleven both these men must be held guiltless. Stephen himself could give no help. He had left the Biffs at a quarter to eleven, with the intention of coming straight back to "The Pines." Then as the night was fine, he thought he would go and have a look at the vault. He went into the churchyard and after seeing the new vault went on to the old one. While looking at it, he received a blow at the back of his head and remembered no more until he found himself in bed with Herrick bending over him. He had heard no footsteps behind him. The blow had been struck in the most unexpected manner, and he had been taken completely by surprise.
All this puzzled Herrick greatly. However, he determined to wait for another week to hear what Bess had to say. She might tell him something tangible, likely to lead to an explanation of these mysteries. But even if she did not Dr. Jim made up his mind to move in the matter. He would first have a talk with Robin and learn if he had anything to do with the death. He would have to explain away the evidence of the old-fashioned pistol being in his possession. It might not have been the weapon used; on the other hand, Herrick felt convinced in his own mind that it was. To unravel the puzzle therefore, Robin was the man he intended to begin with. He was assisted to make a start by the folly of Joyce himself, and this incidentally brought about the confession of Bess.
One afternoon towards the end of the week Herrick went to Biffstead. Ida was at "The Pines" with Stephen, and Bess was alone. Hearing this, Herrick volunteered to fetch her, and started off. As he approached the house he heard the voice of the girl raised in anger. She appeared at the French window of the drawing-room which looked out on the front of the house, and seemed in a state of alarm. The moment she saw him she passed rapidly through the window and caught him by the arm. At the same moment Robin, greatly excited, appeared at the window.
"Come back! Come back, Miss Bess. I did not mean it," he said.
"What is the matter?" asked Dr. Jim astonished.
"Come inside," panted Bess, "that man! I want you to thrash him. Oh, the coward!"
Dr. Jim took Bess by the arm and drew her into the room. Robin winced and shrank aside as the doctor entered. Bess had evidently been typing at her worktable, for it was drawn near the window, and some manuscript lay open on the table. Before this stood a chair, and near it was another chair in which to all appearances Robin Joyce had been seated.
"Now then!" said Herrick, when he had placed the girl in her chair, "what does this mean?"
"Nothing," said Robin very pale but trying to speak calmly. "Only that I asked Miss Endicotte to be my wife, and she refused."
"Quite right," flashed out Herrick angrily. "What right have you to ask her to be your wife?"
Before Robin could answer (not that he showed any inclination to do so) Bess started to her feet. "Yes!" she said indignantly. "He did ask me to be his wife and because I refused to marry him, he threatened me."
"Threatened you," Herrick turned on Joyce with a dangerous look.
"No! No!" implored Robin very white, "forget what I said. I did not mean any harm. I shall go away."
Herrick seized him by the wrist. "You will do nothing of the sort," he said quietly. "You must wait until I have heard all about this."
"Robin winced again and looked cowed. His lips were dry, his face was pale, and he cast an imploring look upon Bess. The girl returned that look with one of defiance and addressed herself to Herrick.
"Do you know what that little coward has accused me of?" she cried fiercely. "He said that I murdered Colonel Carr!"
Dr. Jim laughed. The accusation was so absurd that he could not help laughing. "Of course the man is mad," he said briefly.
"I did _not_ say that you had murdered Colonel Carr," cried Robin. "I only said that you were near the house at the time of the murder."
"Ah!" cried Herrick turning on the little wretch, "and how do you know that Mr. Joyce? Come. Out with it."
"He said he saw me," put in Bess.
"I did see you," said Robin making a clean breast of it. "You were near the house and for all I know----"
"So you _did_ come to Saxham on that night," interrupted Herrick. "Oh, you liar! You went to see Frith and Frith; you slept at the Hull Hotel, did you? And all the time you were down here! I believe you killed Colonel Carr yourself."
"I swear I did not," shrieked Robin, "she did if anyone."
"Don't you dare to say that again," cried Bess, "you are telling a lie."
"Were you not on the lawn in front of the house?" asked Robin.
"Yes, I was, and I can account for my presence to Dr. Herrick--not to you--little toad that you are," cried the angry girl. "Send him away," she added turning to Jim, "and I'll tell you all."
"Go back to the Carr Arms," said Herrick to Joyce sternly, "and wait for me there. If you try to run away, I shall have you arrested."
"You cannot arrest me," blustered Robin looking desperately afraid.
"I can. I have evidence you know nothing about. Go!"
Robin seemed inclined to dispute the order, but when Herrick made a step in his direction he caught up his hat and fled through the window. "He will run away," said Bess.
"Let him try," remarked Herrick grimly, "I can have him arrested at once and I will. Insult you, did he--the hound!"
"It was my own fault for being so kind to him," cried Bess excitedly, "as if I cared for him. It was only because he was a writer that I let him come and see me so often. But I shall not have anything more to do with him. He sent me a manuscript. I shall send it back. Where is it? and she began to pull out the drawers in the writing-table.
"Don't get excited Bess," said Jim using her Christian name in his hurry. "I will put it alright."
But Bess in a rage kept turning over the papers and scattering them on the floor in her search for the manuscript. Suddenly she tossed aside a pile of writing-paper in the left-hand drawer. Underneath was an old fashioned pistol. She looked at it in astonishment. "Where did that come from?" she asked in dismay, taking it up.
Herrick took it from her. He recognised it at once. It was the very pistol that Manuel had shown him in Joyce's flat.
"What does it mean?" asked Bess quite amazed at the discovery.
"It means that Joyce is even more of a hound than I thought he was."
Bess Endicotte stared at Herrick where he stood with a black look on his face, and the clumsy weapon in his hand. "And I'll see Bridge about it," he was saying, "the bullet's still at the police office. If it fits this----" he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.
"What?" cried Bess finding her tongue, and asking the question with a shiver. "Is that the pistol with which----" here her voice died away in her throat. "It can't be," she whispered.
Herrick looked at her in his turn, and slipped the pistol into his pocket. "I know what you are thinking about," he said quietly, "but the pistol will do you no harm. I have seen it before. You are all right Bess."
"All right!" she echoed and drawing her brows together. "What do you mean?"
"Why, what should I mean, but that Joyce slipped this devilish piece of evidence into the table drawer, just to accuse you of----"
She bounded to her feet, grasping the idea for the first time. "He did that, did he?" she cried her head flung back, her eyes angry. "Oh!" she stamped, "what should be done to such a man! And you can sit quietly there Dr. Jim."
"Because I want to hear your story. After this, you must tell me all you know; all you have heard. As for Joyce," his mouth twisted, "leave him to me. He will not get off easily I promise you."
"To put the pistol there, that I----" she broke off again, and looked at him in a scared manner. "Did _he_ kill Carr?" she asked.
"That I can't say--yet. To kill the man he must have had some strong motive. I have yet to learn the motive strong or weak that would make Joyce risk his neck. He is careful of his neck too," explained Dr. Jim. "I have a mind to break it."
"And why?" asked Bess round-eyed. She had never seen the good-tempered doctor in such a rage.
"I wonder you can't guess," remarked Herrick cooling down. With a gasp Bess drew back. Their eyes met. A sudden crimson flushed her face, and she turned it away. "Yes," said Herrick taking her hand, "and I only knew it myself a moment ago."
"What are you talking about?" cried the girl snatching her hand away.
"I am talking of you and myself. Ida said that it would come all of a sudden, and she was right, here it is, and I have been looking in the wrong place for it these many months."
Bess knew perfectly well what he meant, but she made a show of not understanding. "I think we are talking nonsense," she said. "There is much to be done, if what you say about the pistol is true."
"Yes," said Herrick again, "as you say there is much to be done. The other thing can stand over for a time. You know well enough; but it suits you to hold me at arm's length. Woman's way I suppose. Well," he brisked up and his voice took a sharper tone, "let us get to business. This rascal tried to inculpate you in the crime. He shall have the finest thrashing he ever had. The pistol I can explain away. I have seen it in his house, and I can guess that he slipped it into that drawer so as to make his case against you the stronger. He thought if he accused you and could back his accusation with evidence that you would never dare to refuse him--the mean hound!"
"Indeed it would never have come to that," said the girl proudly. "I am not the woman to be won by threats. He did accuse me of the murder, and I defied him to do his worst. I suppose if you had not come, he would have shown me the pistol next. The mean scoundrel!" she clenched her fist, "beat him well Dr. Jim."
"What a blood-thirsty person it is," laughed Jim, "but upon my word you know, this is the strangest of wooings."
"Never mind that," said Bess drawing back, "we can talk later of such things. But my position is anything but a pleasant one. That little man will make trouble."
"If he does not, his Mexican friend will. They are a proper pair of scamps. However I am equal to both of them. Leave Joyce to me. I know all about him; but about yourself, nothing. Joyce--I take it--accuses you of being near 'The Pines' on the night of the murder."
"And at the hour," said Bess quickly. "This is what I have been trying to make up my mind to tell you all the week. The necessity of doing so has come earlier than I expected, but I shall explain myself now." She came to a stop and looked at him questioningly. "Of course you know I had nothing to do with the crime itself?"
"I am sure of that," said Herrick heartily. "But I think you know who did it. Come now, confess!"
"You are mistaken," cried Bess. "All I know is that Frisco is innocent."
"Have you proof of this?"
"The proof of my own eyes; I saw him at the door of the house when the shots were being fired."
"You heard the shots?"
"Three of them. The fourth I did not hear."
"Humph! About what hour was this?"
"Between nine and ten."
"And what were you doing out at that hour?"
Bess paused. "I had better tell you all from the beginning," she said slowly, "then you can judge for yourself. I have told no one as yet. It was too terrible, and--" she hesitated, "I had other reasons for silence. Yet if Frisco had been tried for his life, I should have come forward in spite of all. He is perfectly innocent. I can prove it."
"Strange," muttered Herrick taking a seat. "Well, let us hear."
"What about that horrid Joyce?"
"I'll attend to him later. He will stay at the inn until I come. That is, if he is really innocent. Of course if he tries to bolt, I shall know he is guilty, and have him arrested. Oh, Joyce knows me, and will act accordingly. Never mind him. Go on with your story."
"It is not much of a story," said Bess. "You know the habit that Sidney has of going to the Pine Wood?"
"To see the fairies? Yes, he told me all about that."
"Well, on the night of the murder, he went away as usual. It came on to rain and Ida was in a great state. She thought he would catch his death of cold--he is so delicate you know. I said I would go and look for him, and about nine o'clock I set out. I knew he would be in the Pine woods. It was raining and I wrapped a long cloak about me. He was not in the wood, although I searched everywhere with a lantern. Then I came out of the wood by mistake right on to the Colonel's lawn. The light was burning in the tower, and the whole of the house was illuminated."
"Just as I saw it," muttered Herrick. "Yes?"
"I crossed the lawn to come home, when I heard three shots fired one after the other in the tower. I heard them plainly. I turned with a start; but the Colonel had done so many queer things that I thought he was only shooting to amuse himself."
"It never struck you that it was murder?"
"No! If the Colonel had not been so eccentric I might have suspected, but nothing ever surprised me in that house. I waited for a moment. There were no more shots. I looked towards the house and there I saw Frisco standing in the doorway. I saw him quite plainly."
"That was some time after hearing the shots?"
"Indeed no. It was immediately after the first shot. When the other two were fired I saw him there. I thought that he might see me, and as I did not want Colonel Carr to think I had been spying round his house at so late an hour, I ran home as fast as I could. Sidney had arrived before me. I said nothing about the shots, and went to bed. When I heard how you had discovered the body, I knew that I had heard the shots fired by the murderer. But I knew also that when Frisco was missing he was not guilty. So that was why I defended him. I could not speak plainer could I?"
"Well, I see no reason why you should not have told the story you tell me now."
"If Frisco had been arrested I should have. But you know," here Bess looked down, "can you not understand Dr. Jim? The people round about here are sad scandalmongers. Because I called on Colonel Carr to get an article as I told you, people said that I was fast."
"The brutes!" cried Herrick firing up. "Well then, you can understand that if it had become known that I was near Colonel Carr's house so late at night, there would have been more talk. I really don't know what they would have said. So I said nothing not even to Ida. Of course I could have told them that I went out to get Sidney--but--" Bess shrugged her shoulders, "you know how spiteful people are. No! After consideration I thought it best to hold my tongue."
"But you might have told me," said Herrick.
"I was afraid to," faltered Bess.
"You foolish child, as though I should not have understood!"
"Well," she said with a sigh of relief, "I am glad I have told you now."
"So am I, as it has brought Joyce to the rope's end. How did he say he saw you on that night?"
"He was in the Pine Wood; on the verge of the lawn."
"And for what reason?"
"He did not tell me; nor did I ask him. You see," said Bess, "I was so angry that he should accuse me of shooting the Colonel, that I gave him no time to explain. Then you came, and--you know the rest."
"Humph! Well, Joyce shall explain to me his reasons for coming to Saxham. Of course I knew that he was here on that night."
"You knew?" said Miss Endicotte much astonished. "_How_ could you know."
"The information came to me by accident more or less," replied Herrick and forthwith he explained, how Stephen's remark as to Robin's income had led him to examine into the doings of the little man on that night. "And," continued the doctor, "I went to Heathcroft station. There I learned that a little man muffled up in a great coat (he had the excuse of the rain, but it really was a disguise) had arrived at Heathcroft by the seven o'clock train from London."
"But Heathcroft is six miles from this place."
"So Joyce knew. Therefore he was thoughtful enough to bring his bicycle with him. Oh, he came here right enough--to see the Colonel I suppose."
"To murder him?"
"I really can't be sure of that Bess. You see Carr, for some reason we do not know, allowed Mrs. Joyce an income of five hundred a year. Robin wanted this to be continued to him. The solicitors told him that Carr refused it. Therefore I can only think that he came down to try and persuade Carr to be more generous. But," added Herrick with emphasis, "I hardly think that for such a reason Joyce would commit a murder. He hasn't the pluck."
"That may be," replied Bess thoughtfully, "but it seems to me that if he did not, he took a great deal of unnecessary trouble to conceal his movements from you. Besides which, he led you directly to the house, where he knew--at all events I think so--that the body would be found."
"It is certainly strange, and looks as though his movements had been premeditated. It was Joyce who selected the country for the walking tour. Yet so far as I know he was never in these parts before. And I am bound to say that it was I who led the way to 'The Pines' on that night."
"I daresay. He was too clever to take the initiative. But he no doubt made suggestions."
"Yes, he did that. Well, I must get the truth out of the man himself. He must account to me for the possession of that pistol, and for his being in the Pine wood on the night of the murder. I wonder he gave himself away like he did."
Bess curled her lip. "He did not intend it," she said, "he thought that if he frightened me I would consent to marry him to save my own skin and then hold my tongue about his presence at Saxham. Oh! all his calculations were carefully made, you may be sure Dr. Jim. It was only because he mistook my character that they were upset."
Herrick nodded. "There is Don Manuel of course," he said.
"The Mexican! What about him?"
"Well, I wonder if he has anything to do with this. It is strange that he should be so friendly with Joyce, or with Corn too for the matter of that. Joyce said that a mutual friend of his and mine introduced him to Santiago. I took the trouble to write to that friend--a man called Johnstone, and I learned that Johnstone had never seen or heard of Don Manuel, nor had the Mexican ever been to the Apollo Club where, according to Robin the introduction took place. Where they met, and why they met, I have yet to find out. Luckily I have now enough evidence to force my dear friend Joyce to be candid. And I shall not spare him," said Herrick with a grim smile. "He is a liar and a scoundrel. I never was so mistaken in a man before. I prided myself upon reading character. It seems that I am not so clever as I thought."
"No doubt there is something between them, since they are so intimate," was the reply of Miss Endicotte, "but whether it has to do with the murder I do not know. Did Señor Santiago know Colonel Carr?"
"In South America, and hated him like poison. It seems they both went on a treasure-hunting expedition in Peru."
"Treasure-hunting! Peru. Ah I remember, that was the expedition Frisco used to talk about."
"Was Frisco with the Colonel there?"
"Yes. He let drop hints that he and the Colonel had found treasure in Peru, and that they had lost themselves. Of course I do not know the whole story. But from what Frisco said I know it was in that way Colonel Carr obtained his wealth."
"What a liar that Manuel is!" said Herrick. "He denied that he had ever seen Frisco, According to Manuel only he and Carr were on the expedition. Santiago fell ill, and Carr left him amongst the Indians. He was held in captivity for two years, and when he got back to civilisation Carr had vanished with the treasure. He--I am speaking of the Mexican--arrived in England six months ago--in search of Colonel Carr no doubt."
"I wonder if he killed him?"
"He might have, and yet I do not know. Revenge is a poor thing when no substantial benefit is to be derived. Santiago wants wealth. He would have managed the affair in a different way."
"But remember the warnings!"
"Three of them. Yes! That is the kind of way Santiago would go to work. Try and frighten Carr into parting with a substantial amount. But I do not think that he would kill the goose with the golden eggs--at all events until he was in possession of some of the eggs. No, I can't think the Mexican is guilty."
"Then Joyce must have done it."
"Perhaps. But he is such a coward."
"If not either of those two, who is it?" asked Bess. "Not Frisco?"
Herrick looked at her, "I am not so sure," he said coolly, "you see the alibi you provide for Frisco does not touch the subject. You saw the man at the door when three shots were fired. Well, if you remember at the inquest it was proved--as much as it could be proved--that those three shots were fired at a dead body. Therefore when you heard them the man was already dead. Why should Frisco not have done it and then come down leaving his accomplice to do what he liked."
"I see what you mean," said Bess, "it was the bullet that killed the Colonel--the old fashioned bullet--"
"Fired from this if I am not mistaken," went on Herrick producing the pistol.
"You can't be sure of that. And admitting that it is so, how did the pistol come into possession of Joyce, if Frisco used it?"
"I am in the dark there," said Herrick vexedly. "I must get the truth out of Joyce. Time to see him now," and he glanced at his watch. "As to the pistol I'll see Bridge and find out if the bullet fits."
Bess held out her hand. "Let me do that," she said, "while you are watching Joyce and the Mexican I can attend to that matter."
"Do you think you will be able?" hesitated Herrick.
"I am certain I can. Besides I want to have some part in the discovery of the truth."
The doctor handed her the pistol. He knew that she was a clever girl, and would not undertake a thing unless she could execute it thoroughly. "You and I can do the detective business together," he said. "I will look after Joyce and Santiago and Frisco if I can find him; your part will be to trace the pistol and to see if the bullet fits. You can manage Bridge?"
"Easily," replied Bess, putting the pistol away, "he is so conceited that a little flattery goes a long way with him."
"Don't let him meddle in this matter. He will only spoil it. I know what to do. Leave it to me."
Dr. Jim took up his hat to go. Suddenly he recollected a point he had not yet discussed and sat down again. "About Pentland Corn," said he, "what do you think of him Bess?"
"He is a good man," she replied promptly, "but he is weak. I am sure there is nothing wrong about him."
"Yet why should he make such a friend of Santiago?"
"I do not know. Shall I ask him?"
"He would not tell you the truth if you did. He has his own secrets."
Bess nodded. "But I do not believe they are bad secrets," she said, "the rector is a man with a past--a sad past. Did you know he was a soldier before he became a parson?"
"No," replied Dr. Jim, "and yet I always thought he had a martial air about him. Why did he leave the army?"
"He said he had a call. No!" added Bess hastily seeing the doctor's lip curl, "I do not think he is a hypocrite. He is most devout."
"Humph! I do not believe much in that emotional religion," said Jim with a shake of his head, "a call had he, and left the army for that? I should like to hear a more feasible story. He was a friend of Colonel Carr's?"
"Yes, he was the only person the Colonel saw, and he used to go very often to 'The Pines.' But I do not think he did Colonel Carr much good."
"On the contrary it is probable that the Colonel did a weak man like that a good deal of harm," Herrick stopped; then said suddenly. "He knows something about this murder?"
"What makes you think so?" said Bess startled.
"Well! He did not come to the inquest, and seeing that he was the parson of the parish and a great friend of the dead man I think that strange myself. Also when I met him in the morning after the murder he talked nonsense, sheer nonsense, and was in a sort of hysterical condition."
"That might have been because of the shock," replied Bess thoughtfully, "I know one thing at least about Mr. Corn. He will not look upon a corpse."
"Why not?"
"I don't know, nor does anyone else. The parishioners are sometimes annoyed because he will not come and see their dead. Mr. Corn will pray with a dying person but he will not look on a dead one."
"Humph! And he was a soldier!" said Herrick. "I must look into this."
"You have quite enough to do at present I think. I will see to the pistol, and you can go now to Joyce."
"Then we can meet and compare notes. And Bess, we understand one another?"
Miss Endicotte flushed. "I wish you would not talk nonsense," she cried, "there are other and more important things to think of."
Dr. Jim would have protested, but she re-entered the house, and left him to his own thoughts. These were pleasant in spite of the discovery of Robin's iniquities. Jim now saw that he had been in love with Bess without knowing it. The shock of Joyce's wooing had brought about the discovery. "And what a fool I have been not to see it before!" said Dr. Jim. "No wonder they say Love is blind," and he whistled light-heartedly.