Bella did not echo the compliment, for, after what she had seen on the previous night, she was inclined to think that Henry Vand was the worse of the two, evil as his wife might be. At all events, he was the stronger, and Rosamund Vand was a mere tool in his hands. She was on the point of going to Cyril's lodgings to warn him and Durgo of this projected departure of the Manor-house inhabitants, but on reflection she concluded to wait until he returned from Mrs. Tunks' hut. After all, the Vands could not leave Marshely before night-fall, and would have to pass through the village on their way to the far-distant railway station. If necessary they could thus be intercepted at the eleventh hour.
Mrs. Tunks was seated by the fire in her dingy hut, absorbed in her own thoughts, which she assisted by smoking a dirty black pipe. In the next room her grandson still turned and tossed, watched by a bright-eyed gipsy girl, whom the old woman had engaged from a passing family of her kinsfolk. But the man no longer raved, as the worst of the delirium had passed. He was sensible enough, but weak, and looked the mere shadow of his former stalwart self. Mrs. Tunks feared lest he should die, and was much disturbed in consequence, as he was her sole support. Without her grandson's earnings she could not hope to keep a roof above her head, as her fees for consultations as a wise woman were woefully small. She did not dare to make them larger in case her visitors should warn the police of her doings. And Mrs. Tunks, for obvious reasons, did not wish for an interview with Dutton, the village constable.
Smoking her pipe, crouching over the smouldering fire, and wondering how she could obtain money, the old woman did not hear the door open and shut. Not until a black hand was laid on her shoulder did she turn, to see that Durgo was in the hut with Cyril behind him. Paying no attention to the white man, she rose and fawned like a dog on the black.
"He's ill, master," she whimpered, clawing Durgo's rough tweed sleeve, "and if he goes there's no one to help me. Give him something to make him well; set him on his legs again."
"Do you think I can do so?" asked Durgo, with a grave smile.
Mrs. Tunks peered at him with her bleared eyes and struck her skinny hands together. "I can swear to it, master. You know much I don't know, and I know heaps as the Gorgios—my curse on them!—would give their ears to learn. Come, lovey—I mean master—help me in this and I'll help you in other ways."
"Such as by telling us who murdered Huxham," put in Cyril injudiciously.
"Me, deary! Lor', I don't know who killed the poor gentleman," and Mrs. Tunk's face became perfectly vacant of all expression.
Durgo turned frowning on the white man. "I said that I would let you come if you did not speak," he remarked in a firm whisper; "you have broken your promise already."
Cyril apologised in low tones. "I won't say another word," he said, and took a seat on a broken chair near the window.
Mrs. Tunks cringed and bent before Durgo, evidently regarding him with awe, as might her sister-witches the Evil One, when he appeared at festivals. The negro glanced towards the closed door of the other room. "Who is watching your grandson?" he asked sharply.
"A Romany gal, as I found——"
"That will do. I want no listeners. Call her out and turn her out."
The old woman entered the other room, and soon returned driving before her a black-eyed slip of a child about thirteen years of age. This brat protested that Tunks was restless and could not be left.
"I shall quieten him," said the negro quickly; "get out, you!" and he fixed so fierce a glance on the small girl that she fled rapidly. And Cyril saw that the girl was not one easily frightened.
"Now to put your grandson to sleep," said Durgo, passing into the next room, and Cyril saw his great hands hover over the restless man on the bed. He made strange passes and spoke strange words, while Mrs. Tunks looked on, shaking and trembling. In two minutes the sick man lay perfectly still, and to all appearances was sound asleep. Durgo returned to the outer room.
"You'll cure him, master, won't you?" coaxed Mrs. Tunks.
"Yes. I'll cure him if you tell me what you know of this murder."
"I don't know anything, master."
Mrs. Tunks looked obstinate yet terrified. Durgo stared at her in a mesmeric sort of way, and threw out his hand. The woman crouched and writhed in evident agony. "Oh, deary me, I'm all burnt up and aching, and shrivelled cruel. Don't—oh, don't! I'll be good. I'll be good;" and she wriggled.
"Will you speak?" said the negro sternly.
"Yes, yes! only take the spell off me, deary—master, I mean."
"You feel no pain now," said Durgo quickly, and at once an air of relief passed over Mrs. Tunks' withered face. She sat down on a stool and folded her claw-like hands on her lap. Durgo leaned against the fire-place. "What do you know of this murder?" he asked.
"I don't know much, save what he"—she nodded towards the room wherein lay her sleeping grandson—"what he said when he was mad with the drink. Get him to speak, master, and you'll learn everything."
"In good time I'll make him speak," said Durgo with impressive quietness. "Now I ask your questions. Answer! Do you hear?"
"Yes, master; yes, I hear. I answer," said the trembling old creature.
"Did you tell the truth in your trance last night?"
Mrs. Tunks looked up with awe. "He knows everything, does the master," she breathed softly, then replied with haste, "Yes. I spoke of what I saw."
"Did you see all you spoke of, or did you make up some?"
"I spoke of what I saw," said Mrs. Tunks decidedly, "and you know, master, how I saw it. I loosened the spirit, and it went to look. But I don't say but what I didn't know much from what Luke raved about."
"So you knew before Vand took you to the Manor-house for this trance, that he had murdered Huxham?"
"Yes, master, I did know, but I wasn't sure till I saw with the Sight."
"Luke"—Durgo nodded towards the inner room in his turn—"Luke knows that Vand murdered Huxham?"
"Yes, master. I believe," said Granny, sinking her voice, "that he saw the doings through the window of the study. He never said naught to me, though I wondered where he got so much money to get drunk every day. But when he was mad with the drink, he talked and talked all the night. Then I knew that he had got money from Mr. Vand for holding his tongue."
"Tell me what he said?" commanded Durgo.
"He raved disjointed like," said Mrs. Tunks with great humility; "but he talked of Mr. Vand coming in when Captain Huxham was looking at a box of jewels. There was a knife on the floor, and Mr. Vand stabbed Captain Huxham with that knife, and then dropped it behind the desk."
"Was his wife with him?"
"No. She was in the kitchen."
"Was there another man with Huxham before Vand came?"
"Luke said nothing of that. But he did say," added Mrs. Tunks quickly, "that he was going to America with Mr. and Mrs. Vand, and raved of the good time he would have with them."
"When are they going?"
"I don't know, master. Luke didn't say."
Cyril would have interrupted to ask a question about his missing father, as he could not understand why Durgo had not threshed out that important point. But at the first sound of his voice the negro frowned him unto immediate silence. When all was quiet, Durgo looked directly at Granny, and made passes. "Sleep, sleep, sleep!" he said, and Cyril could see by the working of his face that he was putting out his will to induce a hypnotic condition. "Sleep, I say."
The old woman must have been a marvellously sensitive subject, for she leaned against the wall—her stool had no back—and closed her eyes in apparent deep slumber almost immediately. Her face was perfectly expressionless, and her limbs were absolutely still. She looked—as Cyril thought, with a shudder—like a corpse. Durgo spoke softly in her ear: "Are you free?" he asked gently.
"Yes," said Mrs. Tunks, in a far-away, faint voice.
"Go to the Manor-house."
"I am there."
"Enter!"
"The door is fast closed," said Mrs. Tunks, still faintly.
"Doors are no bars to you now; you can pass through the door."
There came a short pause. "I have passed. I am inside."
"Seek out Vand and his wife," commanded the negro softly.
"I have found them."
"What are they doing?" demanded Durgo, sharply.
"Packing boxes," came the response, without hesitation; "they talk of going away to-night."
"Where to?"
"I can't say: they don't mention the place. But they leave the Manor-house under cover of darkness to-night."
"Look for the jewels."
"I have looked."
"Where are they?"
"In a small portmanteau, marked with two initials."
"What are the initials?"
"M. F. Oh!" Mrs. Tunks' voice became very weary. "The mist has come on. I can see no more. It is not permitted to know more."
Durgo looked disappointed, and seemed inclined to force his will. But after a frowning pause, he waved his hands rapidly, and spoke with great sharpness.
"Come back," he said briefly, and after a moment or so, the old woman opened her eyes quietly. Her gaze met the angry one of Durgo, and she winced.
"Have I not pleased you, master?" she asked, timidly.
"Yes. You have pleased me. But I wish you could have learned more."
"What did I say?" asked Granny, wonderingly.
"Never mind. Here"—Durgo produced a small canvas bag from his pocket—"this is the money you have earned."
Mrs. Tunks hastily untied the mouth of the bag, and poured a glittering stream of gold into her lap. "Fifty sovereigns, lovey," she mumbled, her eyes glowing with avaricious delight. "Thank you, master; oh, thank you."
"In an hour," said Durgo, indifferent to her thanks, "I shall send you a small bottle containing a draught, which you can give to your grandson. It will put him right; but of course a few days will elapse before he can get quite strong again. This place"—he glanced disparagingly round the dingy hut—"is not healthy."
"So I thought, master. And to-night Luke is going to my sister's caravan. It's on the road outside Marshely, and the gel can take him there. If Luke has a month or two of the open road, he'll soon be himself again. Anything more I can tell you, master?"
"No. But to-night I am coming here, shortly after moonrise. Get rid of your grandson beforehand, if you can."
"What is to be done, master?"
"Never mind. Do as you're told. Good-day," and Durgo, beckoning to Cyril, went out of the hut. The white man followed, in a state of great amazement.
"How did you manage all that?" he asked wonderingly.
"Hypnotism," said Durgo shortly. "You heard that Mr. and Mrs. Vand intend to fly to-night?"
"I have heard: yet I cannot believe in that hanky-panky."
Durgo shrugged his shoulders and argued no more. But when Cyril came to his lodgings, and found a note from Bella stating that she had heard of the Vands' intention of leaving the Manor-house, he disbelieved no longer. Nay, more, for on the authority of Mrs. Tunks' hypnotic confessions, he believed that the Vands also possessed the long-sought-for jewels.
When the darkness came on, and just as the moon was rising, Lister and Bella proceeded to the plank bridge of the boundary channel. Before leaving Cyril on that afternoon, Durgo had intimated that he wished Miss Huxham to meet him at that hour and at that place, and of course Cyril came also. He had every trust in the negro, who had proved himself in every way to be a man of sterling worth. All the same, he did not intend to let Durgo meet Bella without being present. The black man was far too intimate with unseen forces, to please the white man, and it was necessary to protect Bella, if necessary.
"He might put you into a hypnotic trance," explained Cyril, who had described all that had taken place.
"I should not let him do that," said the girl decidedly.
Cyril shrugged his shoulders. "Durgo might not care if you liked it or not. He would hypnotize you, if he wished."
"No, Cyril, he could not do that unless I consented. My will is my own, and it is a strong one. I suppose," said Bella, after a pause, "that he made Granny feel those aches and pains by controlling her subjective mind."
Lister glanced sideways at her in surprise. "You seem to know all about it," he declared. "Where did you learn those terms?"
"At my school at Hampstead there was a girl who could hypnotise people. She read all manner of books about hypnotism, and talked about the subjective mind, although I don't know what it is. I can understand so much of Durgo's power over Granny. But that sending her spirit to the Manor is strange. I don't believe that he did."
"He must have done so," insisted Cyril, "as Durgo did not know that the Vands were leaving, and Granny distinctly stated that they were, in my hearing. Also, if we find that the jewels are in the small portmanteau, marked with the initials M. F., we can be certain that her spirit really did travel."
"'M. F.,'" repeated Bella, dreamily: "those are my father's initials."
"Maxwell Faith. So they are. Humph! There is something in this business after all, Bella."
"But do you really think anyone can separate the spirit from the body?"
Lister reflected. "I don't see why not. After all, as St. Paul says, we are composed of spirit, soul and body, so in certain cases the one may become detached from the other. I remember"—he looked thoughtfully up to the cloudy sky—"I remember reading in some magazine of a boat-load of people being saved, owing to one of them transferring his spirit to a passing ship, and leaving written instructions in the cabin where the ship was to steer to."
"Oh, Cyril, that's impossible."
"My dear," he said drily, "you can see the log of that very ship, containing an account of the incident, at Somerset House. However, we have no time to discuss these matters further. Yonder is Durgo by the bridge. I want to know why he asked you to meet him here. Such a night, too"—Cyril shivered—"quite a change. I feel cold."
"So do I. It will rain, Cyril. Look at that heavy bank of clouds behind which the moon is hiding. And oh, how dark it is!"
It certainly was dark, and the two came very near Durgo before they saw him. The sky was heavy with gloomy clouds, and undoubtedly there promised to be rain before midnight. Durgo, wrapped in a heavy military cloak, stood sentinel by the plank bridge. When the lovers came up he led them across to the other side, and when they stood on Bleacres he used his great strength to rip up a couple of planks.
"There!" said the negro, flinging these into the standing corn, "they will not be able to get their boxes across, even if they can cross themselves."
"Are you talking of the Vands?" asked Bella quickly.
"Yes; they are still at the Manor-house. Look!"
He pointed through the gloom, and they saw two or three windows of the old house lighted up brilliantly. Across other windows occasionally flitted more lights. Apparently Mrs. Vand was anxiously trying to impress the neighbours at least, such as might be abroad on this night—that she and her husband were ostentatiously at home. Durgo laughed grimly.
"They have quite an eye for dramatic effect," he said in his guttural voice, and very contemptuously. "Well, they shall have all the drama they want to-night, and more."
"Durgo," Bella spoke in an alarmed tone, "you won't hurt them?"
"Not if I can help it."
Cyril interposed imperiously. "I shall not be a party to the breaking of the law," he said with sharpness, "nor will I allow Bella to——"
"Cyril Lister," interrupted the negro, turning on him and addressing him by his full name, as was his odd way; "if I could bring the police on the scene I would do so. But you know, as I do, that we have no proofs save those of the unseen, which would not be accepted in a court of law, to prove that the two are guilty of murder—of a double murder for all I know."
"A double murder!" echoed Bella, drawing closer to her lover.
"Yes. Edwin Lister, my master, has disappeared, and Huxham is dead. The old sailor, certainly, may have killed my master, but on the other hand, as I believe, Vand murdered Huxham, and probably murdered Edwin Lister also. Howsoever this may be, we can prove neither murder, so it is not advisable to bring the police into the matter.
"It would be safer," said Cyril uneasily. He feared lest Durgo's barbaric instincts should be aroused against the couple at the Manor-house.
"It would not be safer," retorted the negro. "While the police were debating and searching, the Vands would be getting out of the kingdom, and we could not stop them. Besides, they have the jewels. I am certain of that from what Granny Tunks saw when I loosened her spirit. Once the Vands got news of the police being on their track they would hide those jewels, and we should never find them. I want those jewels for you, Miss Huxham, as, before I leave England, I wish to see you happily married to Cyril Lister here. It is the least that I can do for his father's son."
"But if my father is alive and has the jewels?" asked Cyril doubtfully.
"That will make a difference," assented Durgo, "although I daresay that Edwin Lister will not mind returning the jewels. We can arrange our funds for the expedition in another way. But I fear," he added in gloomy tones, "that my master is dead. If so, I can only avenge him."
"But with your occult powers, can't you learn if my father is dead or alive?"
"No," said Durgo very decidedly. "You forget that on the side of the unseen are mighty powers who have to be obeyed. I can do much, but not all, and for some reason I am not permitted to know the truth about my master. Sooner or later I shall understand about this. What we have to do at the present time is to prevent the Vands from escaping. Will you both help?"
"Yes," said Bella, anticipating Cyril; "that is if you don't intend violence."
"Be comforted," said Durgo ironically; "be comforted, missy. I have no wish to put a rope round my neck. I simply mean to force these devils to give up the jewels, and to solve so much of this mystery as they know. When I regain the jewels and know what has become of my master, I shall let them go, or if you like I shall hand them over to the police. But time presses," added Durgo impatiently, "and at any time the two may come along on their way to freedom. Will you help?"
"Yes," said Cyril simply. "What do you want us to do?"
"Missy"—Durgo turned to the girl—"can you work that search-light?"
Bella nodded. "For an evening's amusement my father—I mean Captain Huxham—once showed me how to manipulate it."
"Well it is in good order, as we know that Vand used it last night. You can get into the house by the secret passage and watch for the going out of our two friends. Then turn on the search-light and use it as a pointer."
"I can use the search-light, and I daresay it is in order since Henry Vand used it last night," said Bella quickly; "also I can get to the upper part of the house and on to the roof, through a kind of well which runs from the lower to the higher secret passage. But what do you mean by my using the light as a pointer?"
"Direct the ray on to Vand and his wife; they may come down this path, or they may try and escape in another way. But if you bend the ray of the search-light to where they are, I'll be able to catch them. Use the ray as a finger, as it were."
Bella nodded. "I see, and where will you be?"
"I shall hide in the corn somewhere or another," explained Durgo. "I don't know where, as I can't be sure how Vand and his wife intend to escape."
"They may take the boat," suggested Cyril, "and that is tied up some distance yonder. I believe they will use the boat."
"No;" said Durgo shaking his head; "there is no place where they can row to, as this channel ends in mere swamps. All I can do is to walk here and there, and watch for the finger of the search-light."
"What am I to do?" asked Cyril anxiously; "go with Bella?"
"No you wait in Mrs. Tunk's hut. I daresay she is alone, as I asked her to send her grandson away to his gipsy caravan before I came. I shall walk down with you, while Miss Huxham goes to the Manor-house."
"I would rather go with Bella," objected the young man uneasily.
"I am quite safe," said Bella determinedly, "and if you came, Cyril, there would be no room for us both in that narrow secret passage. I shall go by myself. Have no fear for me, dearest."
"One moment," said Durgo, as she was moving away. "Since you think that I may use violence, I may tell you, to quieten your minds, that the police are coming, after all."
"When did you tell the police to come? I thought you said——"
"Yes, yes!" interrupted the negro impatiently. "I know what I said. But I saw Inspector Inglis the other day when I went to Pierside, and informed him of my suspicions. I wired him to-day asking him to be with three or four men on the bank of the boundary channel opposite to Granny Tunks' hut."
"At what time?"
"About eleven, as I don't suppose that the Vands will try and escape until everyone in Marshely is asleep."
"Did you tell Inglis about the jewels?" asked Cyril.
"No, there is no need to tell more than is necessary. Besides, the police might take possession of the jewels, and I want them for Miss Huxham. All Inglis knows is that I suspect the Vands of a double murder, and that they intend to fly. He will come with his constables to arrest them if there is sufficient evidence."
"But I say, Durgo. I wanted you to do as you say, some time ago, and you talked of it not being advisable to bring the police into the matter. It seems that you have done so."
"It is a fact," said Durgo drily. "I didn't wish to tell you all my plans at once, as you and Miss Huxham here seemed to be so certain that I intended blue murder. If you had not been ready to trust me, I should not have changed my mind or have told you about the presence of the police. You look on me as a barbarous black man."
"We look on you as a very good friend," said Bella quickly, for the negro seemed hurt by their suspicions.
"There! there!" said Durgo gruffly, but bowing to the compliment. "Go to the Manor-house, Miss Huxham, and do what you can."
"Good-bye, Cyril," said Bella.
The young man ran after her as she moved up the corn path. "Don't go without a kiss, Bella," he said, catching her in his arms. "God keep you, my darling, and bring us safely through this dark business!"
"I'm not afraid, now that I know Inspector Inglis and his men will be on the spot," whispered Bella. "Good-bye! and good-bye! and good-bye!" and she kissed him between each word. In a few minutes she was swallowed up in the gloom, which was growing denser every minute.
"There will be a storm," prophesied Durgo, as the two men proceeded side by side to Mrs. Tunks' hut. "Hark!"
Just as he spoke there came a deep, hoarse roll of thunder, as though the artillery of heaven was being prepared to bombard the guilty pair in the old Manor-house. Durgo, with the instinct of a wild animal, raised his nose and sniffed. "I smell the rain. Glory! look at the lightning."
A vivid flash of forked lightning zig-zagged across the violent-hued sky, and again came the crash of thunder. Already the wind was rising, and the vast fields of corn were rustling and sighing and bending under its chill breath. "It is going to be a fierce night," said Durgo, dilating his nostrils to breathe the freshness of the air. "Do you remember in Macbeth, Cyril Lister, of the night of Duncan's murder?" and he quoted in his deep voice—
"—but this sore night,Hath trifled former knowings."
"—but this sore night,Hath trifled former knowings."
Cyril looked at the strong black face, which showed clearly in the frequent flashes of lightning. "You are a strange man, Durgo. One would think that you were almost—" he hesitated.
"A white man," finished Durgo coolly. "No, my friend. I am an educated black man, and an ingrained savage." He spoke mockingly, then flung back his military cloak. "Look! Would a man be like this in your sober England?"
Cyril uttered an ejaculation, and had every reason to. In the bluish flare of the lightning he saw that Durgo had stripped himself to a loin-cloth, and that his powerful body was glistening with oil. The sole civilised things about him were canvas running-shoes which he wore, and the cloak. "Why have you stripped to the buff?" asked Cyril astonished.
"I may have hard work to catch those two this night," said Durgo, replacing his cloak, which made him look quite respectable, "so I wish to run as easily as possible."
"But there was no need to strip. The police won't be stripped."
"It's my way, and was the way of my fathers before me."
"In Africa, but not in England."
"Pooh!" was all that Durgo answered, and the two trudged along, bowing their heads against the now furiously driving wind. Shortly they came to Mrs. Tunks' hut, and the door was opened by the old woman herself.
"I felt that you were coming, master," she said, nodding. "Enter."
"No," said Durgo, pausing on the threshold of the ill-smelling room. "I have to go back to my post and watch for the coming of the Vands. Mr. Lister will remain here. Has your grandson gone?"
"No, lovey—I mean master," said Granny coaxingly. "He's ever so much better for the medicine you gave him, and is quite his own self. But I've sent the gel to get a boat to take him to the caravan. They've moved it down the channel to a meadow near the high road. The gel will bring the boat up here in an hour or so, and take Luke back with her; then he'll go on the merry road with her and my sister."
"You should have sent Luke away before," said Durgo frowning, "for he knew all about the murder, and has blackmailed the Vands. Inglis and his constables will be on the opposite bank to this place soon, and they may arrest him. I shan't say more than I can help, but get him away as soon as you can."
"Yes, master; yes, deary; yes, lovey!" croaked the old woman; and Durgo, with a significant glance at her and a nod to Cyril, turned away into the gloom.
"Won't you come in, lovey?" asked Mrs. Tunks coaxingly.
"No," said Cyril, who did not relish the malodorous hut; "I'll stay here and watch for the signal."
"What signal?" demanded the witch wife.
"Never mind. Go in!" commanded Lister, and settled himself under the eaves of the hut to keep guard.
Granny scowled at him as she obeyed. She did not mind cringing to Durgo, who was her master in the black art, but she objected to Cyril ordering her about. Had Granny really possessed the powers she laid claim to she would have blighted his fresh youth on the spot. As it was, she simply muttered a curse on what she regarded as his impertinence, and went indoors.
Cyril lighted his pipe and kept his eyes on the distant mass of the Manor-house, which was revealed blackly when the lightning flashed. Across the ocean of grain tore the furious wind, making it rock like an unquiet sea. Flash after flash darted across the livid sky, and every now and then came the sudden boom of the thunder. Hour upon hour passed until the watcher almost lost count of time. Within the cottage all was quiet, although at intervals he could hear the querulous voice of Mrs. Tunks shrilly scolding the Romany girl. Lister began to grow impatient, as he dreaded lest Bella should have fallen into the clutches of the Vands, who would certainly show her no mercy. It was in his mind to leave his post and see for himself what had occurred. Suddenly a long clear beam smote through the darkness of the night, and he sprang to his feet.
"They have left the house," muttered Cyril, thrusting his pipe into his pocket; "what's to be done now?"
The lightning was not quite so frequent, so the vivid beam of the search-light had full and fair play. But as the lightning ceased and the thunder became silent, a deluge of rain descended on the thirsty earth. On its strong wings the wind brought the rain, and a tropical down-pour almost blotted out the haggard moon, which now showed herself between driving clouds. But through the steady beam of the search-light could be seen the straight arrows of the rain, and the vast corn-fields hissed as the heavy drops descended. Here and there swung the ray of light, evidently looking for the fugitives, but as it did not come to rest, Cyril guessed that Bella had not yet descried the flying couple. But the rain was so incessant, and the wind so strong, that he was angered to think how Bella, on the high altitude of the quarter deck, was exposed to its fury.
Suddenly, as sometimes happens in furious storms, there came a lull both in the wind and the rain. A perfect silence ensued, and Cyril straining his ears, heard the soft dip of oars. As he peered towards the black gulf of the water-way running past the hut, the ray from the Manor-house became steady, and the finger of light pointed straight to the boundary channel. Cyril heard a wild shriek and ran down to the bank. Coming along the stream he saw a light boat, and in it Mrs. Vand huddled up at the end in her shawl. Vand himself was rowing with great care: but when the beam revealed their doings he lost all caution and rowed with desperation. Again came a drench of rain, almost blotting out the landscape, but the ray of light still picked out the guilty couple, following the course of the boat steadily, like an avenging angel's sword.
"Row, Henry, row hard!" shrieked Mrs. Vand, crouching in the stern of the boat and steering down the narrow channel as best she could, "We'll soon be safe. Row hard, dear! row hard!"
"Stop!" cried Cyril from the bank. "Mrs. Vand, you must wait here until the police come. Stop!"
"The police!" yelled the terrified woman, and her face was pearly white in the brilliant search-light. "Row, Henry; don't stop!"
Lister whipped out a revolver, with which he had been careful to provide himself. "If you don't stop, Vand, I shall shoot," and he levelled it.
But the cripple was too desperate to obey. He bent again to the oars and brought the shallop sweeping right under Cyril's feet. Then, before the young man could conjecture what he intended to do, he stood up in the rocking boat and swung up an oar with the evident intention of striking the man with the revolver into the water. Lister dodged skilfully as the oar came crashing viciously past his ear, and fired at random.
Mrs. Vand shrieked, her husband cursed, as the shot rang out. There came an answering cry from the near distance, and into the glare of the search-light bounded Durgo, naked save for his loin-cloth, black as the pit and furious as the devil who lives therein. Showing his white teeth like those of a wild animal, he raced up to the boat, and without a moment's hesitation flung himself on the figure of Vand as he stood up. The next moment the light craft was overturned, and Durgo, with the Vands, was struggling in the water. At the same moment the beam of the search-light suddenly vanished, leaving everyone in complete darkness. And the rain, driven by the triumphant wind, deluged the fields.
Afterwards, Cyril, when questioned, could never clearly recollect what took place. Vand's oar had missed his head, but had struck his right shoulder with considerable force, so that his revolver shot had gone wide of its intended mark. When Bella shut off the beam—and Cyril wondered at the time why she did so—everything was dark and confused. What with the gloom, the rain and curses from Vand and Durgo, who were struggling in the water, and the shrieks of Mrs. Tunks, added to those of the half-drowned woman, Cyril felt his head whirl; also the blow from the oar had confused him, and he became sick and faint for the moment.
Granny Tunks with commendable forethought had brought out a bullseye lantern, which she must have stolen from some policeman. Flashing this on to the water-way, its light revealed Durgo and the cripple locked in a deadly embrace, and Mrs. Vand clinging to the bank with one hand while she clutched her shawl with the other. Cyril thereupon plunged down the incline and dragged the wretched woman out. Thinking she was about to be arrested she fought like a wild cat, and would have forced the half-dazed young man into the water again, but that Mrs. Tunks brought a chunk of wood with considerable force down on her head.
"What the devil did you do that for?" gasped Cyril furiously; "you've killed her, you old fool!"
"What do I care, deary?" cried Granny shrilly. "I'd kill them both if I could, for the master wants them killed, curse them both!" and she tottered down to the boundary channel, while Cyril carried the inanimate form of Mrs. Vand into the hut. Here he laid her on the floor, and hastily bidding the Romany girl attend her, hurried out again.
"They're dead, both of them! Oh, the master's dead!" yelled Granny Tunks.
With the lantern raised she stood on the bank peering into the water, but there was scarcely enough light to see what was taking place. All sounds had ceased, however, and only the drench of the rain could be heard. But even as Granny spoke, the Romany girl, anxious to see what was taking place, darted out of the cottage with a kind of torch, consisting of tow at the end of a stick steeped in kerosene. This flared redly and flung a crimson glare on the water-ways, and flung also its scarlet light on the bodies of Durgo and the Cripple. These lay half-in and half-out of the water, fast locked together in a death grip. There was no wound apparent on either body, so Cyril conjectured that in the struggle both had been drowned. Durgo's mighty arms were clasped tightly around the slender body of the cripple, but Vand's lean hands were clutching the negro's throat with fierce resolution. Both were quite dead, and even in death Cyril, although he tried, could not drag them apart. That so delicate a man as Vand could have contrived to drown the powerful negro seemed incredible to Cyril: but he soon saw that to kill Durgo the cripple had been willing to sacrifice himself. Probably he had dragged Durgo under water, and having a grip on the man's throat had squeezed the life out of him with a madman's despairing force. The weak had confounded the strong on this occasion in a most pronounced manner.
Meanwhile, Granny Tunks was bewailing the loss of her master, and the sharp-featured Romany girl echoed her cries. The screams of both brought out Luke, who appeared at the fire-lighted door of the hut looking much better than Cyril expected him to be, seeing how severe had been his last illness. He had something in his hands, and in the flaring light of the torch Lister saw that it was a somewhat small black bag. In a moment the young man guessed that Luke Tunks had been robbing the unconscious Mrs. Vand, as he remembered that she had kept a close grip of something under her shawl even while she was struggling with him.
"The jewels!" cried Cyril, too excited to be cautious, and leaped for the gipsy. "Give me the jewels."
"They're mine, blast you!" growled Luke, trying to evade him. "Missus gave 'em to me. Leave me alone. Granny, help me!"
Mrs. Tunks ran to the rescue, for the mention of jewels stirred her avaricious blood like the call of a trumpet. But already Cyril had plucked the black bag from the still weak gipsy, and Luke was not strong enough yet to make a fight for it. Aided vigorously by the Romany girl, the old woman would have closed in, but that a shout from the opposite bank made all turn. A dozen bullseyes were flashing over the stream. Cyril, gripping the bag, dashed the woman and the man aside and sprang to the verge of the channel.
"Is that you, Inspector Inglis?" he shouted.
"Yes; who are you?" came the sharp official tones.
"Cyril Lister. Come over yourself, or send some men. Vand and Durgo, the negro, are dead."
There was a confused muttering of surprise amongst the constables. Then came Inglis's clean-cut speech. "We heard a shot. Is——"
"No. Durgo struggled with Vand in the water-way, and they were both drowned. These gipsies here are making trouble, and Mrs. Vand is unconscious in the hut. Come across and take charge."
"How the devil can we get across here?" demanded Inglis. "It's twenty feet of water. Here you men, go round by the bridge."
"It's broken down," yelled Cyril.
"Who broke it?"
"Durgo. Let go, you old devil!" and Cyril swung Granny Tunks aside. The woman was still trying to clutch the jewels. "Inglis, you'll have to swim across. There's no other way."
No sooner had Lister suggested this expedient than Inglis obeyed it with the promptitude of an Englishman. Several heavy bodies were heard plunging into the water, and the bullseye lanterns were seen approaching like moving glow-worms as their swimming owners held them above their several heads. Had Granny Tunks been strong enough she would have attempted to prevent the landing of this hostile force; but Luke was useless and the Romany girl still more so. All she could do was to enter the fortress of her hut and bar the door, which she accordingly did, while Luke, mindful that he might be arrested for the murders as an accomplice after the fact, slunk hastily into the standing corn. Shortly Cyril was shaking hands with a dripping police inspector, and surrounded by six dripping constables. As the half dozen men and their officer were already wetted to the bone by incessant rain, the plunge into the channel did not trouble them in the least; indeed, they looked as though they rather enjoyed the adventure.
"But we may as well get under shelter to hear your story," suggested Inglis, and knocked loudly at the door of the hut. As Granny would not open, he simply turned to his men and gave a sharp order. "Break it down," said Inglis, and in less than a minute the constables were marching into the small apartment over the fallen door.
"I'll have the law on you for this!" screeched Mrs. Tunks, shaking her fist.
"You'll get a stomach-full of law, I have no doubt, before I have done with you," retorted Inglis. "Who is this?" and he stared at the inanimate form on the earthen floor amidst pools of water.
"Vand's wife, who was trying to escape with him," said Cyril. "She is insensible from a blow this old demon gave her."
"She'd have had you in the water else," hissed Mrs. Tunks scornfully.
"It wasn't unlikely, seeing how she fought. Have you any brandy?"
"A trifle for my spasms," admitted Granny sullenly.
"Then bring it out and revive Mrs. Vand," said Inglis impatiently. "It will be necessary for me to question her. Mr. Lister"—he brought his mouth very close to the young man's ear and spoke in a whisper—"is what that nigger told me quite true?"
"About Vand murdering Huxham? I believe it is, but I can't be sure. I got these, however, from Mrs. Vand. Don't let the old hag come near or she'll try and loot them."
"Loot what?" demanded Inglis, on seeing Cyril open the black bag, after he had motioned the constables to surround the table. "Oh, by Jupiter!"
His surprised ejaculations were echoed by his men, for Lister emptied on the table many glittering stones, cut and uncut. Chiefly they were diamonds, but also could be seen sapphires, rubies, pearls, and emeralds, all glowing with rainbow splendour in the fierce radiance of the bullseye lanterns. Mrs. Tunks whimpered like a beaten dog when she saw what she had missed, and tried to dart under a policeman's arm. "No you don't!" said the man gruffly, and gripped her lean wrist as her hand stretched greedily over the flaming heap of gems.
"Whose are these?" asked the inspector, quite awed by this wealth.
"Miss Huxham's," said Cyril, making a ready excuse until such time as the matter could be looked into, for he did not wish Inglis to take possession of Bella's fortune. "Her father left her these and the house to Mrs. Vand; but the woman withheld the jewels from her niece, and tried to-night to bolt with them. Then Luke Tunks attempted to steal them from her, while she lay unconscious here. Luckily I was enabled to rescue them, and now I can restore them to Miss Huxham."
"Where is Luke Tunks?" asked the inspector, while Cyril packed the gems in a chamois leather bag which he found in what Granny had called in her trance the portmanteau.
"Gone where you won't get him," grunted Mrs. Tunks, who was holding a glass of brandy to Mrs. Vand's white lips.
"You must get him, Inglis," said Cyril insistently. "He knows all about the murder of Huxham, and has been blackmailing the Vands."
"So that nigger said. By the way, we must see to the bodies." Inglis turned to the door, then looked back at Lister. "I wish I knew what this all meant, sir," he remarked, much puzzled.
"You shall know everything in due time, and a very queer story it is."
The inspector might have gone on asking questions, but at that moment Bella Huxham, breathless and wet, appeared in the doorway. In the semi-darkness she could scarcely see her lover, and called him. "Cyril! Cyril! what has happened?" she panted. "I have run all the way, and—who are these?"
"Inspector Inglis and constables," said that officer. "Where have you come from, miss?"
"From the Manor-house. I went to see my aunt, and saw her run away with her husband. Where is she? Where is he?"
"There is Mrs. Vand," said Cyril, pointing to the still insensible woman, "and her husband is dead in Durgo's arms."
Bella shrieked. "Is Durgo dead?"
"Yes, unfortunately. Vand clutched his throat and dragged him under."
"But so weak a man——"
"He sacrificed his own life to kill Durgo," said Cyril. "What's to be done now, inspector?"
Inglis acted promptly. "One of my men can stay here to look after the old woman," he said officially, "and the rest can help me to take the bodies of Vand and the nigger back to the Manor-house. We must take possession of that place until everything is made clear at the inquest. What will you do, Miss Huxham? Better get home. This is no place for a lady."
"I must stay and revive my aunt," said Bella, who already was bending over the woman and had the glass of brandy in her hand.
"Good," said Inglis, motioning his men to file out. "I'll come back and question her when you get her right again. Mr. Lister!"
"With your permission, Mr. Inspector, I'll wait here with Miss Huxham," said Cyril significantly. "I don't trust these two women"—he looked at Granny and the Romany girl—"also Luke Tunks might be lurking about. If Miss Huxham were left here alone—" his shrug completed the sentence.
"Dutton will keep guard at the door," said Inglis, selecting the village constable, a fresh-faced, powerful young man, "and if these women try any games he can take them in charge. Also, Dutton"—he turned to the man, who had already posted himself as directed—"you can hold Luke Tunks should he turn up. I want to question him also," after which orders Inglis with a nod went out. Cyril followed.
The bodies were duly found, and the inspector uttered an exclamation of surprise when he saw that Durgo was nude. "What does this mean?"
"Mean!" said Cyril, who looked over his shoulder, "simply that Durgo, in spite of his Oxford training, was a savage at heart. He arranged a trap to catch the Vands, and stripped so as to be prepared for any emergency."
"Rum notion," said Inglis, who looked puzzled. "But what had he to do with all this murder business?"
"He was my father's friend," explained Lister, "and—" he stopped on seeing the eager faces around him, adding in lower tones, "what I have to explain is for your own ear in the first instance, inspector."
Inglis looked grave, and even suspicious. "There seems to be much to explain, Mr. Lister," he said seriously. "However you can stay here. I shall take the bodies to the Manor-house and thoroughly search the place. When I return I hope to hear your story and to examine Mrs. Vand. It seems to me," added the officer, as he turned away, "that the mystery of the Huxham murder is about to be solved at last."
"I think so myself," assented Lister soberly; and after seeing the six men take up their burden of the dead, he returned to the hut in silence.
Here he found Mrs. Vand, pale but composed, sitting up on the floor with her back propped up against the wall. Granny Tunks, looking very sulky, was on her hunkers before the fire smoking her cutty pipe, and the Romany girl could be seen lying on Luke's vacated bed in the inner room. Only Bella was attending to the woman she had called aunt for so long, and who had so persecuted her. She was urging Mrs. Vand to speak out.
"You must tell the truth now," said Bella, "for the police will arrest you."
Mrs. Vand could not grow paler, for she was already whiter than any corpse, but a terrified look came into her eyes. "You'll be glad of that, Bella?"
"No," said the girl earnestly; "I am not glad to see you suffer. You have been cruel to me, and I thought that I should like to see you punished; but now that you have lost your husband and are so miserable, I am very sorry, and both Cyril and I will do our best to help you. Tell all you know, Aunt Rosamund, and perhaps you will not be arrested."
"If I tell all I know I am sure to be arrested," said Mrs. Vand sullenly.
"But surely you did not murder your own brother?"
"No, I didn't. Badly as Jabez treated me I did not kill him, although I don't deny that I wished for his death. Well, he is dead and I got his money, and now—" she buried her shameful face in her hands wailingly—"oh! my poor dear Henry, I have lost him and lost all. As to you"—she suddenly lifted up her head to glare furiously at Cyril, who was leaning against the door-post a few yards from the watching policeman—"you have been the evil genius of us all. Where are my jewels?"
"They are in this bag," said Lister, holding it up, "and they belong to Bella."
"Jabez left everything to me," began Mrs. Vand, when Cyril interrupted.
"These jewels were not his to leave. They were the property of Maxwell Faith, who was a trader and——"
"I know all about that," said Mrs. Vand, cutting him short, "and Bella is his daughter, you were going to say."
"Yes; therefore the jewels are her property. Who told you of——"
"Luke Tunks told me."
"That's a lie!" snarled Granny from her stool near the fire.
"It's the truth," gasped Mrs. Vand, taking another sip of the brandy which Bella held to her lips. "Luke was dodging round the house on the night of the murder and peeped in at the study window. He overheard the interview between Jabez and Edwin Lister."
"What!" Cyril took a step forward in sheer surprise. "You know my father's name also?"
"I know much, but not all," said Mrs. Vand in a stronger voice, for the spirit was taking effect. "For instance, I don't know what became of Edwin Lister, but Luke does."
"Then Luke shall be arrested and questioned."
"He shan't!" muttered Granny venomously. "Luke's escaped—a clever boy."
Bella put her arm round Mrs. Vand to render her more comfortable. "How much did Luke tell you?" she asked softly.
"Only so much as cheated us—Henry and I—into paying him money."
"Oh," said Cyril quietly, "so that is why Luke got so drunk."
"He spent his money in drink," said Mrs. Vand indifferently. "We paid him a good deal. He never would have left us, and intended to go to America with us to-night, as he knew too much for our safety."
"How did you intend to escape?" asked Cyril sharply.
"We intended to row down the channel to the swamps; that is why Henry got the boat a few weeks ago. Then we intended to cut across the marshes to the high road, where a motor-car, hired by Henry, awaited us. It would have taken us to London, and there we could have concealed ourselves until a chance came to get to the States. Everything was cut and dried, but you——"
"No," said Lister seriously; "it was not I who stopped you, but Durgo."
"That negro? Then I am glad he is dead!" cried Mrs. Vand, who was getting more her old self every minute. "However, it's all done with now. You have the jewels, Henry is dead, and I don't care what becomes of me."
"But who murdered my father?" asked Bella earnestly.
"Jabez wasn't your father. Maxwell Faith was your father, for Luke overheard Edwin Lister say as much to Jabez."
"And what became of Edwin Lister?"
"I don't know; Luke never told me that. All he said was that he saw and heard the two talking. Then he left the window, and only returned to see Henry stab my brother."
"Oh!" Cyril and Bella both uttered ejaculations of horror.
"Yes, you may say 'oh' as much as you like, but it's true," said Mrs. Vand with great doggedness. "Henry came with me to the Manor-house on that night at ten o'clock. He did not stop at the boundary channel, as he declared. He only said that to save himself. But he came with me, and we saw my brother, who was in his study. We confessed that we were married, and then Jabez grew angry and said he would turn me as a pauper out of the house next morning. He drove Henry and myself out of the room. I fainted in the kitchen, and when I came to myself Henry was bending over me, very pale. He said he had killed Jabez with a knife which he found on the floor. I had seen the knife before when we were telling Jabez about our marriage. But in the excitement I didn't pick it up."
"Was there blood on the knife?" asked Cyril, remembering Granny Tunks' trance, as reported by Bella.
"I can't say; I don't know. I was too flurried to think about the matter. All I know is that Henry killed Jabez with that knife which Jabez brought from Nigeria, and then dropped it behind the desk."
"What took place exactly?" asked Cyril hastily, while Bella closed her eyes.
"Ask Luke; ask Luke," said Mrs. Vand testily. "He knows all," and she refused to say another word.
As Mrs. Vand obstinately refused to speak, there was little use for Bella to remain in the hut. The girl was sick and faint with all she had gone through, and wished to get home to rest. Cyril also was anxious to follow Inglis and his officers to the Manor-house to see what had been discovered likely to prove the truth of Mrs. Vand's statements. But before going, Bella made a last attempt to induce her presumed aunt to confess all in detail. "It's your sole chance of getting out of this trouble," said Bella, who was now sorry to see her enemy brought so low.
"I don't care if I get out of the trouble, or if I do not," said Mrs. Vand wearily. "Henry is dead, just as we were on the eve of happiness, so I don't much care what becomes of me."
"Could you have been happy in America knowing your husband to be a murderer?" asked Cyril, skeptically.
"Certainly," returned the woman with great composure. "I knew all along that Henry had struck the blow; but I daresay Jabez goaded him into doing so, as poor Henry was so good and weak."
"Weak!" echoed Cyril, remembering all. "He was not very weak to kill an active man like Captain Huxham, and a strong negro such as Durgo was."
"Ah!" said Mrs. Vand exultingly, and contradicting herself in a truly feminine way, "Henry was a man—none of your weaklings. If we had only escaped with those"—she stared hard at the black bag which contained the jewels—"but it's no use fretting now. Everything is at an end, and Bella is glad."
"No, I am not, Aunt Rosamund——"
"I am not your aunt; I don't wish to be your aunt."
"All the same, I am very sorry for you," said Bella, with the tears in her eyes, "and if I can do anything to help you let me know. Good-bye, aunt, and may God watch over you." She bent and kissed the lined forehead.
"Don't you believe that I killed Jabez?" faltered Mrs. Vand, somewhat touched.
"No," said Bella quietly. "I believe what you say. Henry killed Captain Huxham, and like a true wife you held your tongue to save him. I should have done exactly the same had Cyril been guilty."
"You're a good girl, Bella. I'm sorry I was so hard on you. I don't suppose there's much happiness left me in this life, now that Henry is dead. But I shall repay you for those kind words. There! there! Don't kiss me again. I have been mistaken in you. Good-bye," and Mrs. Vand, lying down on the floor in an utter state of despair, turned her face to the wall.
Bella had to leave her in this unsatisfactory condition, as there was no chance of taking her home to Miss Ankers' cottage. Dutton still watched by the door, and probably had overheard all that she had confessed, even though she had not been so explicit as she should have been. But she had detailed quite sufficient to ensure her arrest as an accomplice after the fact, so it was not likely that Dutton would permit her to leave the hut until he received orders from his superior. Under the circumstances there was nothing to be done, but for the young people to go, which they accordingly did. Granny Tunks flung a curse after them as they passed out into the night, and flung also a burning sod to emphasise the curse.
"Old devil!" said Cyril, comforting Bella, who was crying. "Dutton, lend me your lantern, as the path along the channel is dangerous."
Dutton, having received five shillings, made no objection to this, provided he got back his bullseye later in the night. Cyril promised to return it when he came back to the hut with Inglis, and then, taking Bella's arm he led her carefully along the slippery path. The storm had passed and the wind had dropped, but the clouds were still thick enough to envelope the earth in murky darkness. They picked their footsteps carefully, until they came to the foot of the corn-path. Here they halted.
"How are we to get across, Cyril?" asked the girl, shivering.
Lister groped in the corn wherein Durgo had flung the planks, and soon recovered these. With the aid of Bella he fixed them again on the tressels sunk in the mud, and the two passed dry-shod over the channel. In walking to Marshely the young man gave Bella the bag. "Take this, dear," he said. "The jewels are in it. Be careful of them."
"Oh, Cyril," said the girl, awestruck, "did Mrs. Vand steal them?"
"Yes, and in spite of what she says I believe she and Henry murdered your father—I mean Captain Huxham—for the sake of the jewels. They were in this bag, marked with the initials 'M. F.'—your father's initials."
"Just as Granny saw it in her trance."
"Very nearly, only she called the bag—and it is a bag, as you see—a portmanteau. Either Granny or the unseen are at fault. But it matters little since the jewels are now in your possession. Keep them carefully."
"But Cyril," said Bella, as they drew near the cottage, "does it seem right for us to keep jewels that already have caused two murders? My father was killed because of these gems by Captain Huxham, and he met with the same fate for probably the same reason."
"I daresay in ages past, many and many a wicked deed has been committed for the sake of these jewels. Do you remember what you heard Granny say in her trance?—that a Roman empress had secured the jewels by crime. My dear girl, all jewels have a history more or less, and if one feared the sort of thing you mention, not a woman would wear jewels. No, dear: God has given you this fortune, and you have every right to make use of it. Here's the door, and by the light in the window I see that Miss Ankers is sitting up."
"I promised to tell her why I went out," said Bella, kissing her lover, "so, as she is our good friend; she must know all."
"Just as you please: tell her everything from the beginning. I have to tell Inspector Inglis what I know shortly."
"Will you tell him about your father?" asked Bella faintly.
Lister hesitated. "I must," he said at length with a mighty effort, "for if I do not Luke Tunks may be caught, and he will tell."
"Tell what?"
"I don't know: God only knows what happened when Luke peeped through that window. From the presence of the bloody knife on the floor, and the fact that Vand murdered Huxham, I am inclined to believe that Huxham stabbed my father with that knife."
Bella caught his sleeve. "If so where did Captain, Huxham hide the body?"
Cyril removed her arm gently, although he shivered. "We have had enough of these horrors for one night, dear," he said, kissing her. "Go inside and talk to Miss Ankers. To-morrow I'll come and see you."
"What are you about to do, Cyril?"
"I am returning to the Manor-house, and then shall go to Granny's hut with Inglis. There must be an end to all this mystery to-night. Bella"—he turned suddenly—"if it is proved that my father is alive, will you still marry me? Think of the disgrace he has brought on me."
"Why? In any case your father didn't murder Captain Huxham."
"No; his hands are free from blood in that respect. But this case will have to be thoroughly inquired into, and much about my father may come out. His doings were shady. As I told you, I had to borrow one thousand pounds to buy back a cheque for that amount which he had forged in the name of an old college friend. Then there's the gun-running in Nigeria, and all manner of doubtful means by which he made his money. Bella, if you marry me, you marry a man with a soiled name."
Her arms were round him on the instant. "Youhave not soiled it," she whispered, "and that is enough for me."
Cyril's lips met hers in a passionate kiss, and, glowing with happiness, she ran into Dora's little garden as the door opened. Miss Ankers, hearing voices at this late hour—for it was nearly midnight—was looking out to see what was the matter. Cyril watched her admit Bella, and then turned away with a sigh. He intended to confess much about his father to Inglis, which he would much rather have kept concealed; but under the circumstances there was no other way of settling matters. Since the tragic death of Captain Huxham, these had been in a very bad way.
Very shortly the young man arrived at the Manor-house, and found a constable on guard at the door. But he was admitted the moment the man recognised him. It appeared that Inglis had been expecting him for some time. Lister walked into the study, wherein the inspector had established himself, and explained that he had been escorting Miss Huxham home.
"The poor girl is quite worn out," said Cyril, seating himself with an air of relief, for he also was extremely tired.
"No wonder," replied the inspector. "Is Dutton on guard?"
"Yes. Mrs. Vand and the old woman and the girl are all safe."
"I have sent along another man," said Inglis nodding, "so that there may be no chance of the three escaping. The house was locked up when we came here, Mr. Lister, and only by breaking a window could we enter. Look at this, sir"—and the inspector pointed to a small lozenge-pane in the casement, which had been broken.
"Well," said Cyril, after a pause.
"Through that broken pane Luke Tunks saw everything which took place in this study on the night of the murder."
Cyril felt his hair rise, and he thought of his father's probable danger, but he calmed down on reflecting that at least Edwin Lister was not guilty of the frightful crime. "How do you know?" he gasped with difficulty.
"We have caught Luke, and he will be here in a moment or so to confess."
Cyril looked surprised. "How did you catch him?"
"He ran out of the hut when we crossed the channel, and concealed himself in the corn. Then, remembering that the Manor-house was deserted he fetched a circle round the fields and came here. When we got into the house we found him nearly crazy with fear; he took us for ghosts."
"Where is he now?"
"In the kitchen guarded by a couple of men. He refused to confess, and I gave him an hour to make up his mind. Meanwhile, we have searched the house and have found that everything valuable more or less is gone. Some things left behind have been packed in boxes. I suppose the Vands hoped to escape and then get their goods later. But they carried off what they could."
"They intended to go to America," said Cyril, "the woman explained. She also declared that her husband murdered Captain Huxham."
"I expect she had a hand in it herself."
"She denies that."
"She naturally would," said Inglis very drily. "However, I'll send for Luke Tunks and see if he is willing to confess," and he gave a sharp order to one of the constables who was lounging in the hall.
In a few minutes the tall, lean gipsy, who looked extremely ill and extremely defiant, made his appearance at the door, held by two policemen.
"Bring him in," said the inspector calmly, and arranging some sheets of paper, which he took out of his pocket along with a stylograph pen. "Now then, my man, will you confess all that you saw?"
"If I do what will happen, governor?" asked Tunks hoarsely.
"You may get a lighter sentence."
"Will I be arrested?"
"You are arrested now, and shortly you will be lodged in gaol."
"Then I shan't say anything!" growled Luke defiantly, and folding his arms he leaned against the panelled wall.
"Very good," said Inglis serenely; "take him away. In the morning he can be removed to the Pierside goal."
The two constables advanced, and Luke bit his lip. In any case he saw that things looked black against him.
"You have no right to arrest me," he declared. "On what charge do you arrest me?"
"On a charge of murdering Captain Jabez Huxham."
"I didn't. I can prove I didn't."
"You can do so in court and to a judge and jury. Take him away."
"No, no! I'll tell you all I know now," said Luke, making the best of a bad job, and being imaginative enough to both see and feel a visionary rope encircling his neck. "Let me tell now, governor."
This was exactly what Inglis wanted, as he desired to obtain all available evidence for the forthcoming inquest on the bodies of the dead men, black and white. But he pretended to grant the man's wish as a favour. "As you please," he said with a cool shrug. "You two men can go outside and remain on guard on the other side of the door."
The constables did as they were ordered and closed the door. Inglis, Lister, and Luke Tunks were alone, and as the gipsy was still weak from his late illness the inspector signed that he could take a seat. "Now tell me all you know, and I shall take it down. You shall affix your name to your confession, and Mr. Lister and myself will be the witnesses. Do you agree?"
"Yes," said Luke hoarsely, and drawing his sleeve across his mouth, "for nothing I can say can hang me. I didn't kill either of the blokes."
"Either of the blokes? What do you mean?"
"I mean that Captain Huxham killed the man who called himself Lister, and Henry Vand killed Captain Huxham. I saw both murders."
Lister rejoiced, horrified as he was at the idea of his father's violent death, but thankful from the bottom of his heart that he had gone to his own place guiltless of blood. Inglis saw the expression on the young man's face, and asked a leading question.
"Was not this Mr. Lister your father?"
"Yes," answered Cyril promptly. "He came home from Nigeria some months ago with Durgo, who is the son of a friendly chief. My father, I understand, came down here to ask Captain Huxham for certain jewels—"
"Those you showed me, sir?"
"Yes, they were robbed from a trader called Maxwell Faith by Huxham, and my father wished to get them. Durgo came down to seek for my father, but we have never been able to find him."
"He is dead," said Luke abruptly.
"So you say; but where is the body?"
"I don't know; I can't say." Luke paused, then turned to the inspector. "Let me tell you what I saw through yonder broken pane."
"Very good." Inglis arranged his papers and prepared his pen. "Mind you speak the truth, as I shall take down every word you say. Afterwards Mr. Lister can tell me what he knows."
So it was arranged, and Tunks, as ready to tell now as formerly he was unwilling, launched out into his story. It appears that after leaving Mrs. Coppersley—as she was then—he went home to have some food. Shortly before eight o'clock he strolled along the banks of the river and saw Pence watching the house. Knowing that the preacher was in love with the daughter of his master, he took little notice; then, while lying in the corn by the side of the path smoking, he saw, as he thought, Cyril Lister pass him, and stealthily followed.
"Why did you do that?" asked Inglis, raising his eyes.
"I knew that this gent"—he nodded towards Cyril—"was in love with Miss Bella also, and knew that Captain Huxham hated him."
"Why did he hate him?"
"I can tell you," said Cyril quickly; "because of my father. Huxham knew my father in Nigeria, and as my father wished to get these jewels he feared lest he should force him to give them up. For this reason Huxham came down here and planted corn all round his house as a means of defence, and installed a search-light. He wished to be on his guard."
"Did your father intend murder?" asked the inspector, sharply.
"I really can't say."
"But he did," struck in Luke, who had been listening earnestly. "All that the young gent says is true, sir. I only followed, as I thought that there would be a row between Captain Huxham and—as I thought—Mr. Cyril. I waited outside the house, and then hearing loud voices in the study—in this place," said Tunks looking round, "I stole to the casement and peeped through that broken pane. They did not know that I was there."
"What became of Mr. Pence meanwhile?" asked Inglis suddenly.
"He was watching the house, but I think he went away and then came back."
Inglis nodded. "That is unsatisfactory. I must examine Mr. Pence later. You go on, Tunks, and tell us exactly what you saw."