There was a long pause, a sinister lull in the tempest of passion which was raging in that quiet, prosaic room. Gasping with impotent passion, Maunders lay, resting his head against the door, an obstacle which prevented the guilty woman from escaping. Not that she attempted to escape. With a deadly white face, with steady, cold, malignant eyes, like those of a snake, and with a contemptuous smile on her thin lips. The Spider, visible at last in all her brazen wickedness, stood defiantly at bay. Towton, with Ida clinging to his arm almost terrified out of her senses, stared aghast at the evil being who had been such a curse to many. The ominous silence was like the year-long moment before the bursting of a bomb.
Ida, with chattering teeth and trembling limbs, was the first to recover the use of her tongue; but she could scarcely form the words. "Oh, God! oh, God!" she whimpered, hiding her face on her lover's breast; "it's too awful. I never thought--I never thought--oh--oh--oh!" She broke down with a strange, hysterical, choking cry, and would have fallen to the ground but that the Colonel placed her gently in a near chair.
Then he turned with military precision to face Miss Hest. "You are The Spider?" he asked in dry, precise tones, and now entirely master of himself.
"Yes," she replied coolly, and her mouth closed with a triumphant snap.
"You infernal fiend----"
"Gently! Gently! Hard names break no bones, Colonel. You should be more of a man than to throw words at a woman."
"Are you a woman?"
"Yes," gasped Maunders, raising himself on his elbow and wiping the froth from his pale lips; "she is Frances Hest right enough. Her brother is a myth invented by herself to mask her devilries. But Frances or Francis--she is The Spider!"
"I did not mean that exactly," said Towton in his hard voice; "but I asked if one capable of the enormities credited to The Spider can possibly be a woman."
"I am The Spider," said Miss Hest with a shrug. "There is your answer."
"You are a demon."
"More names! Really, Colonel Towton, you are very childish. You sink to the level of that fool," and she pointed scornfully to Ida, who was weeping in the chair as though her heart would break.
"To think that I should have been her friend," moaned Ida with a fresh burst of tears and hiding her face.
"You little fool," said Frances in a gentle, dangerous voice. "I have been a better friend to you than you think. But that I pitied you as being a poor, weak, silly worm, I would have murdered you long ago."
"You murdered my father," shivered Ida, not daring to meet the cold eyes which rested on her prostrate form.
"Martin Dimsdale was not your father."
"You--you--you murdered him."
"Yes, I did."
"What!" Towton could scarcely believe his ears. "You admit the crime?"
Frances yawned ostentatiously. "If I admit that I am The Spider it follows that I must have murdered Dimsdale."
"Well, no," replied Towton, truthfully and justly. "You may have employed Hokar to strangle him."
"That is very good of you," said Frances satirically, "but I don't place my own sins on the shoulders of others. Hokar taught me how to strangle in the Thug fashion certainly, but he did not kill Dimsdale. I did."
"Still, I don't believe that the murder was premeditated," insisted Towton.
"Upon my word," said Miss Hest good-humouredly and as coolly as though she were gossiping over a cup of tea, "one would think you were counsel for the defence. No, you are right. I did not intend to murder Dimsdale. Having got you out of the way----"
"You mean that you got Vernon out of the way?"
"Of course," assented Frances, sitting down and crossing her legs in a gentlemanly fashion; "but you must excuse my bad memory, as I have so much to think of. I got Vernon out of the way, as I overheard, and Maunders there overheard, the arrangement for a trap. We were both on the verandah."
"And I was with you," wailed Ida, shivering again. "So you were," said Miss Hest raising her eyebrows, "but you heard nothing. Maunders caught a word or two through the open window of the library and warned me. While you, my dear Ida, were talking to him I stole round the corner and listened. Knowing all about the trap, I had Vernon decoyed to the Kensington house, and at the appointed time I went into the library, masked and cloaked, as were the other guests at the ball. Dimsdale was waiting for me. I stole up behind him and slipped a handkerchief round his neck."
"Oh!" The Colonel was revolted. "And you say that the crime was not premeditated?"
"I say truly. I simply prepared to strangle him slightly should he have made an outcry. Remember, I was in a dangerous position and could not stand on ceremony. Had Dimsdale given me the money and permitted me to leave by the window I would have spared his life. As it was, he saw me in the mirror, which was directly in front of him."
"But you were masked: he could not recognise you?"
"I am coming to that. He waited for a moment, until I made my demand for the money, then suddenly threw back his hand, and before I guessed his intention he tore the mask from my face. When he recognised me I was obliged, for my own safety, to strangle him. As the handkerchief was in position I simply tightened it, and he was soon dead. Then I searched for the money, but, not being able to find it, I resumed my mask and returned to the ballroom. Maunders, of course, was with me all the time, and awaited my return."
"I did not know that you had committed a murder," said Maunders gloomily.
"No, I did not tell you at the time: it would have spoilt your pleasure. But when Ida learned the truth by entering the library you guessed what had taken place. I kept you with me for your own sake, to provide an _alibi_ should you be suspected, as I feared Vernon might be clever enough to guess that you had something to do with it. As a matter of fact, he did hint at it when he called many days later, but I was enabled to say that you were with me all the time, and so he was put off the scent."
"I remember," murmured the Colonel to himself, but not so low as not to be overheard by Miss Hest's marvellously sharp ears. "Vernon was quite satisfied when you provided the _alibi_ for Maunders. He never suspected _you_."
"No one ever suspected me," said Frances coolly. "There is no need for me to speak of my own cleverness. Anyone who can baffle the police as I have done has no need to boast."
"But why, in heaven's name, with your abilities, did you embark on such an evil course?" asked Towton amazed at her _sang-froid_.
"Fate, Fortune, Destiny: what name you will," said Miss Hest carelessly. "But you have tried to exonerate me, Colonel, and because of that you shall hear the whole story," and, leaning forward, she pulled the bell-rope.
"Remember, I shall repeat all you say to the police," warned Towton.
"I am not afraid of the police," retorted Frances with a shrug; "all my plans are made--to escape. As that fool," she pointed to Maunders lying sullenly on the floor, "has betrayed me twice I give him to you as a sacrifice. But I shall never stand in the dock, you may be sure."
"Will you kill yourself?" cried Ida, terrified at this strength of mind.
"No, my dear. I am too much in love with life. You shall know my plan presently. Meantime, you shall hear how I came to be a blackmailer, as you have already heard why I murdered Dimsdale, to my misfortune."
"To your misfortune, indeed! sharply.
"You may well say so, Colonel. I never intended to soil my hands with blood, least of all with that of a man whom I liked and who was kind to me. Don't sigh, Ida; after all, I did not shed his blood, as I merely strangled him. But that death brought you and Vernon in chase of me, Colonel, and so I am hunted down. Still, had Maunders been true, I should have been safe. You knew Francis Hest as the criminal, thanks to Maunders. I merged the brother in the sister and made everything safe. Now," she shrugged her shoulders, "I must flit."
"You shall go to prison with me," panted Maunders furiously.
"I think not," rejoined Miss Hest contemptuously. "Don't you know me well enough yet to be aware that I provide against all contingencies. Come in!" she added, raising her voice, and, when the door opened, looked at Towton. "I shall ask my old nurse, Miss Jewin, to relate the beginning of my career; at a later time I can take up the tale, and then our tumbled-down friend yonder can finish the story. Sarah, enter and close the door."
Miss Sarah Jewin was peaked-faced and white, with thin lips, scanty grey hair and cold grey eyes. She was thin and bony and very tall, so that in her plain black dress she looked like a line--length without breadth. As she entered Maunders with a groan hoisted himself into a chair. Miss Jewin had already pushed him aside when she entered the room and, in place of replying to her mistress, stood looking at his scowling, haggard face with a look of consternation. Maunders replied to the look with petty triumph.
"Yes, I got out," he said, rubbing the ragged beard which disfigured his well-moulded chin. "I wrenched a bar out of the window and climbed down by the ivy. Now the murder's out, and you and your hellish mistress are about to be brought to book."
"Don't mind him, Sarah," said Frances lazily and leaning back in her chair to light a cigarette; "you are safe and so am I. Let the fool talk. In the meantime, tell Colonel Towton here how I came to England and how you knew that Ida was merely Dimsdale's adopted daughter."
"I thought you wanted these things kept secret," said Miss Jewin in dismay and turning pale with dread at the situation in which she found herself.
"The time for secrets is past, Sarah. Shortly, thanks to your having allowed Maunders to escape and to Colonel Towton's sense of justice, the hue and cry will be out against the whole of us. Is Hokar at his post?"
"Yes. He went away when you gave orders."
"That's all right. I'll escape, sure enough, and so will you. We'll leave Maunders behind to face justice: he can declare himself to be The Spider instead of me if he chooses."
"Oh!" Miss Jewin started back looking terrified. "Do they know----"
"Maunders has told them, you dear old idiot. But there's no time to be lost, Sarah; tell your story."
"And be frank," broke in the Colonel, who was truly amazed at Miss Hest's cool composure. "If you turn King's evidence you may receive a short sentence for your complicity."
Sarah Jewin folded her arms primly. "Begging your pardon, sir, but I won't receive any sentence at all. I am quite sure that Miss Frances will save me from going to prison."
"I fail to see how she can save herself, let alone you," said Towton coldly. "My horse is at the door. After placing Miss Dimsdale in safety I shall ride to Gatehead and send for the police. You needn't chuckle, Miss Hest, and think you will escape meantime. I shall raise the village and you will be carefully watched."
"You can act as you please," said Frances coolly. "I am not The Spider for nothing, and I shall baffle you as I have baffled others. Meantime since you were so just to me, I shall satisfy your curiosity, which I am sure is very great. Sarah, tell your story."
"One moment," said Towton, turning to the prim woman, "you lured Vernon into the kitchen of that empty Kensington house?"
She dropped an ironical curtsey. "Yes, sir. Miss Frances was pleased that I managed so cleverly."
Ida stared wide-eyed at the shameless looks and speech of the housekeeper, and Towton frowned. That these creatures should so audaciously confess their crimes when they knew he would shortly summon the police puzzled him greatly. Also, remembering the wonderful craft of The Spider, he felt uneasy as to what might happen, but he could not conjecture in what way she could extricate herself and her accomplice from the trap in which they were safely caught. However, he made no comment on Miss Jewin's insolence, but merely ordered her to proceed.
"About thirty-five years ago," said Miss Jewin, plunging into her story without any preliminary explanation, "I was in India and nurse to Mrs. Hest, who was the wife of Captain Theodore Hest, stationed at Bombay. The Captain's father, who lived here, was angry when his son went into the Army, and cut him off with a shilling, but my master believed that if a son were born to inherit the estates his father would relent. When my mistress's baby proved to be a girl he was much disappointed. However, as his father was old and might die before he found out the trick, he sent home news that the baby was a boy, and had her baptised Francis."
"So you see," broke in Miss Hest who was smoking quietly, "that my real name is Francis, and by law I am a man. As a woman I am Frances, so there is merely the difference of one letter. Go on, Sarah."
"She," said Miss Jewin, pointing to her mistress, "was dressed as a boy and brought up as a boy, so that the estates might come to her. My master's father relented when he heard that he had, as he supposed, a grandson, and made a will in the boy's favour."
"The boy, you understand, Colonel, being a girl--myself," said Frances for the sake of clearness.
"I quite understand," said the Colonel frowning. "Go on."
"Then my master and mistress were carried off within a month of one another by fever," continued Miss Jewin. "They died in Burmah, where the Captain had gone with his regiment. I then took charge of Miss Hest, who was always called Master Francis, and came to Gerby Hall. Old Mr. Hest, the grandfather, just lived six months longer, but he died under the impression that his grand-daughter was a grandson. Miss Frances thus became possessed of the property."
"Didn't the lawyer know that she was a girl?" asked Towton surprised.
"No. As she had always been brought up as a boy the deception was complete, sir," said Miss Jewin, using the word with shameless deliberation. "The lawyer came here and saw Miss Frances in her boy's clothes."
"And in this way," explained Miss Hest, "it became current gossip in the village that I had a twin brother."
"A twin sister, you mean?" said the Colonel doubtfully.
"Well, you might put it that way. At all events, everyone in Bowderstyke believes to this day that there is a boy and a girl, or, rather, a man and a woman Hest. I alternately wore male and female clothes."
"Why was there any need for you to wear female clothes at all?"
"That was my fault," said Miss Jewin quickly. "When the succession to the estates was settled I could not bear that Miss Frances should masquerade any longer as a boy. I therefore dressed her in girl's clothes, to which she was entitled, and invented the twin story. Sometimes she was a boy, so that the lawyers should not learn the truth, and sometimes a girl to please me. There's the whole story."
"Now it's my turn," said Frances, throwing away her cigarette. "When I grew up and learned how Sarah had muddled my sex in the eyes of the world I decided to make use of it in order to earn money."
"Why did you need money when you had the estates?" asked Towton briefly. "Oh, those were mortgaged up to the hilt, my dear sir. I wanted to be rich and to restore the Hest family to their old position For this reason I posed as a philanthropist and spent the money I did. What with the sums I have given in charity and the buildings I have constructed, and the dam, which is my work, I think, Colonel, that the Hests can hold their own with the Towtons. I hated to think that my family was down while yours was up."
"Oh," said the Colonel with contempt, "so it's a case of jealousy merely. All your philanthropy was a fraud?"
For the first time Frances coloured and rose out of her chair to reply with more emphasis. "No; you must not say that. I really have a mixed nature, and like to help people. My good qualities are the outcome of my evil ones. I wanted to aggrandize the Hests, certainly, since they were lords of Bowderstyke Valley, until your family robbed them of their property. But also I really wished to do good and help people. I think I succeeded."
"At the cost of murder," said Ida resentfully.
"That was a mistake," replied Frances glibly, "as I never intended to murder Dimsdale. When I went to London in my woman's dress, with very little money in my pocket, I simply intended to earn my fortune on the stage, and by reciting to make Francis Hest--my other self, who was supposed to live here--wealthy and popular. I found that the reciting did not pay and cast about for some better means of making money. Alternately I lived in London as Frances, and in Bowderstyke as Francis. But I could not gain my ends by honest means, and so was obliged to take to dishonest ways. If you wish to know the devil who tempted me to eat of the Tree of Knowledge, he is before you," and she pointed deliberately to Constantine.
"It's a lie," cried Maunders, starting to his feet with a fine appearance of indignation. "I met you three or four years ago in London and you discovered that I earned my living by telling fortunes as Diabella. That was all, except," he added, scowling, "that you blackmailed me."
"Quite so," said Miss Hest quietly. "I tried my 'prentice hand on you, and the means of making money in this way was so easy that I took it up as a trade and adopted you as a partner. Go on, Maunders, you tell the rest of the story so that everything may be made clear."
"There's nothing to tell," said Maunders doggedly, and casting down his eyes as he met Ida's sorrowful look, for he was not so entirely lost to all sense of shame as were the other two law-breakers. "You made me find out all manner of secrets from my clients by hinting at things and asking questions and by----"
"I know," interrupted Towton waving his hand. "I am aware of how fortune-tellers hint at a possibility and so find out the actual truth from their too credulous clients. No wonder The Spider learned much that people would fain have kept to themselves. Who told you about Dimsdale?"
"You know," said Maunders sullenly, "that woman there."
"Yes," said Miss Jewin, still prim and shameless. "When in Burmah with my master I heard about Mr. Dimsdale's love for Mrs. Menteith and how, when her husband died, he adopted the child. But I never said that Mr. Dimsdale delayed any expedition so as to get Mr. Menteith killed."
"No. I invented that and made Maunders tell it to you, Ida, and to you, Colonel, with the additions," put in Miss Hest, with great coolness. "Also, on finding out that Ida was not Dimsdale's daughter, I became alarmed as to the disposition of the property, therefore I made myself a friend of the family and secured the free run of the house."
"You intended to get my money?" asked Ida reproachfully.
"Certainly, my dear," replied Frances, raising her eyebrows. "Ten thousand a year was far too much for a chit like you to handle. I intended to get command of the whole lot. First I hunted in the dead of night for the will, and found it in the library desk. Then I made Maunders tell you that you were not Dimsdale's daughter, after the murder, so that you might be dependent on me, since I knew a secret which could rob you of the money. I had the secret told also to the Colonel so that he might learn he would only have a penniless wife should he marry you, my dear Ida."
"Did you think so meanly of me as that?" demanded Towton, colouring indignantly.
Miss Hest raised her eyebrows. "My dear sir, my experience of human nature has shown me that there is no mean trick which the majority of men will not commit for money. You, however, were in the minority, and so was Ida, as you both were honest. This upset my calculations, as I could not provide against the unseen in human nature. You, Colonel, still insisted upon marrying Ida, and she wished to hand over the money to Lady Corsoon. For this reason I was forced to play my last card and produce the will."
"But you did not intend to be found out as The Spider?"
"No, I did not," confessed Frances calmly. "When Maunders betrayed me at Isleworth you thought that The Spider was a man, which was exactly what I wanted and what I counted upon should such an event as unexpected betrayal happen. In the fog I dragged Maunders away, and we went to the house of a friend of mine whose name I don't intend you to know. I wired in cypher to Miss Jewin here to send a telegram to Francis Hest at Professor Gail's."
"We got that," said the Colonel quickly, "and it threw us off the scent."
"I thought it would," said Miss Hest coolly. "So while you were hunting for The Spider as a man in London I went down with Maunders--he was disguised as an old gentleman and I resumed my womanly dress. Then I wrote you on the plea of talking about Ida and asked after my pretended brother to still further puzzle you."
"You certainly succeeded," retorted Towton, trying to conceal his wonder at all this clever trickery; "but Ida was here and must have known that you were absent from the house as Francis."
"Oh, no. I appeared before her twice in this room, which is, as you see, not very well lighted, in my male disguise and with the painted scar on my face. She was entirely taken in."
"The very simplicity of your disguise took me in," said Ida angrily and wincing at having been so blinded. "Had you worn a beard or a wig I should have recognised you."
"I think not," said Miss Hest quietly and with an amused smile. "As the man I wore my hair somewhat long----"
"I noted that," said the Colonel quickly.
"How clever of you. Well, then, as a woman I merely knitted in false hair. I couldn't wear false hair as a man since Ida would then have been sharp enough to have recognised me. But plenty of women wear false plaits, so I was safe on that score: she never suspected me. My sole disguise was the cicatrice, skilfully painted, and the success of the whole business lay--as Ida has submitted--in its boldness and in the belief that I had a twin brother. I have always found," added Miss Hest musingly, "that the bolder one is the safer it is: audacity always scores. At all events, I so closely resembled my own true self that no one thought I was anyone else but what I represented myself to be. As Francis I told Ida that I was taking my sister away for a week, and so slipped up to London to meet Vernon at Lady Corsoon's and to be nearly trapped at Isleworth."
"What about Hokar and Bahadur?" asked the Colonel abruptly.
"Hokar," said Miss Jewin, making the explanation instead of Frances, "was an old servant of Captain Hest's and came to England with me and the child. Later he sent for his nephew, who was Bahadur."
"Yes. And I gave them both to Maunders when I set him up in those splendid Egyptian rooms in Bond Street," observed her mistress. "They were not engaged to strangle people, as you may think, Colonel, but I merely wished them to add to the fantastical look of the place when fortunes were being told. That you were so nearly strangled, and Vernon also, was your own fault and his own. You should mind your own business, my friend."
"I am going to mind it now," said Towton with a frown; "but first tell me, since you are so frank, what about Lady Corsoon's jewels?"
"They are in this house. I gave them into Miss Jewin's possession."
"And Lady Corsoon can have them for one hundred pounds," said Miss Jewin.
"A very modest demand, Sarah," said Miss Hest approvingly, "but as the game is up I don't think you will get more. I shall leave you to arrange about getting the money and handing back the jewels. Lady Corsoon will be safe, and at a small loss. But I am glad to think that she will not get your money, Ida, dear."
"Don't speak to me," cried Ida starting to her feet. "The more you say the more I see how shamefully you have treated me."
"I have spared you," said Miss Hest coolly. "I could have stripped you entirely bare had I so chosen."
"No. By your own showing I was too clever for you."
"Why, that is true, and simply because you were honest. I always wished to keep on the right side of the law, or I could have got you to make a will in my favour, and then you would have been poisoned."
"How dare you?" shouted Towton, while Ida gave a faint cry.
"You have learned how much I dare," said Frances with an unpleasant look. "So, now the story is told, perhaps you will leave my house."
Colonel Towton walked towards the door with Ida on his arm and roughly pushed Miss Jewin aside. "I shall place Miss Dimsdale----"
"Miss Menteith," sneered Frances.
"In safety," continued Towton without noticing the interruption, "and then I shall ride for the police."
"I shall come, too," cried Maunders starting to his feet. "She will lock me up again and perhaps may kill me."
"Stay where you are," commanded Frances sharply. "I intend to----"
Maunders did not wait to hear the end of the sentence. Seeing that Towton and Ida blocked the door he made a rush at the nearest window and sprang out of it with a dexterity begotten of sheer fear. Whether Frances intended to take him with her when she fled, or whether she intended to murder him he could not say, but he preferred to trust in the mercy of the law rather than in that of the woman who had been his evil genius. Crazy with terror, he tumbled to the ground, and Towton, along with Ida, ran to the front door, to see him speeding across the grass. A moment later and Frances, with a revolver in her hand, leaped from the window in pursuit. From the expression on her face she evidently intended nothing less than murder.
Towton hastily unbuckled the bridle from the ring and flung himself on his horse. "Place your foot on my toe, Ida," he commanded; "up you get. There," he added, gathering up the reins as she sat on his saddle-bow and placed her arms round his neck; "now let us alarm the village. That poor devil will be shot if this fiendish woman is not arrested." And he rode forward at a moderately fast pace.
"She'll catch him," chuckled Sarah Jewin, who had come to the door and was looking out from under the palm of her hand. "Shoot, Miss Frances. Shoot!"
Maunders, finding that he was being chased, could not make directly for the gate and dodged behind some shrubs. Frances sighted him and fired a shot. It winged him, for he gave a yell of fear and ran directly towards her in the open. She fired another shot, which struck him in the breast, and he pitched forward at her feet. Just as she fired a third shot into his prostrate body there came a noise like thunder and a terrible cry from Miss Jewin.
"The signal! The signal! The dam's burst!" and she bolted into the house.
In a flash Towton comprehended and set spurs to his horse. Frances strove to fly, but Maunders with a last effort caught at her foot and she fell heavily, fighting for freedom like a wild cat. The next moment he had her by the throat. And in the distance a mighty roaring struck the ears of all as the flood came down gigantically.
Towton could not quite understand the situation, as there was no time to consider matters. All he knew was that the Bolly Dam had burst, and even had Miss Jewin not spoken, the appalling noise would have informed him of the catastrophe. With Ida in his arms he spurred his horse frantically out of the gate and across the village bridge. He found the crooked street filled with people, called out by the unexpected thunder.
"The dam's burst: get on the high ground," shouted Towton, and with a yell of fear men, women, and children began to run wildly in the direction of the gorge and to disappear amongst the houses in the hope of gaining some level beyond the height of the down-coming flood. But there was scanty time for safety. The hollow booming sound of the waters plunging through the narrows sounded ever nearer and nearer with terrible distinctness: it seemed as though the waters were bellowing for their prey. In a moment the Colonel comprehended that it was too late to skirt the village and gain the winding road, where they would be safe. Ida gave a cry of alarm as he wrenched round the now startled horse and clattered through the village street on his way down the valley. It seemed the only chance.
"I'll save you yet, my darling," muttered Towton, setting his teeth. "We must make for Gatehead," and he drove his spurs into the animal, which now was becoming unmanageable with the roaring of the flood. Ida, almost insensible with terror, clung to her lover's neck, and the horse, making no more of the double burden than if it had been a feather, tore at top speed along the road between the torrent and the precipice. There was no safety on either side, as the precipice could not be climbed, and the dry bed of the stream merely offered a deeper grave. Fortunately, the road sloped gradually to the mouth of the valley, some two miles away, therefore the downward trend offered extra means to escape the pursuing greedy waters. A backward glance showed Towton that a tremendous flood was shooting out of the bottle-mouth of the upper gorge with terrific rapidity. The whole of the huge lake, artificial as well as natural, was emptying itself in one vast outpour, and owing to the narrowness of the valley the concentrated force was gigantic. If the flood caught them they would either be dashed to pieces against the rocks or would be borne onward--horse and maid and man--to be expelled at Gatehead, as if fired from the mouth of a cannon.
"Oh, God, save us! Oh, God, save us!" was all that Ida could moan.
"He will; He will," cried Towton, riding under spur and whip with a mad joy in the adventure, perilous as it was. "He will save the innocent and punish the guilty. Never fear, never fear, my darling."
On roared the enormous body of water, curling like a mighty wave crested with foam and glistening like a colossal jewel in the serene sunshine. It passed with a hoarse triumphant screaming over the fated village, and in a single moment Bowderstyke was not. Bearing _débris_ and bodies of cattle and men, women and children on its breast, the water rolled majestically on its destroying way. Like a wall of steel it stood up, stretching from wall to wall of the valley, and before it tore the terrified horse, warned by its instinct of rapidly approaching danger.
"We are lost! we are lost!" screamed Ida, hiding her face on Towton's shoulder. "We can never escape. It's a mile further."
"There's a crack--a path--a break in the precipice," panted the man, almost despairing of saving what he loved best in the world. "If we can gain that we can scramble up, and--and---- Great God! How it travels!"
From the sides of the valley trees were being wrenched up by their roots, and even the stones lying in the bed of the torrent were being lifted and swept onward like pieces of straw. Owing to the increasing breadth of the valley the shouting and the level of the flood had somewhat lessened, but the hoarse, steady murmur with which it smoothly advanced seemed to be even more terrible than its triumphant screaming. Nearer and nearer it rolled, towering, as it seems to the desperate fugitives, right up to the high heavens. The horse raced onward furiously, but there seemed to be no chance of escaping that rapidly approaching death-wave, which swept along with relentless speed. The man and woman were both silent, and both prayed inwardly, as they faced the eleventh hour of death.
And it was the eleventh hour, for there was still hope. Rounding a corner swiftly Towton rose in his stirrups and sent forth a cry almost as hoarse as that of the flood. A short distance ahead he saw a streak of green grass marking the ruddy stone face of the precipice, and knew that here was the crack to which he had referred. It was a mere chink in the wall, of no great width, caused, no doubt, by the volcanic action which had formed the valley in far distant ages. Many a time as a lad had Towton climbed up that narrow natural staircase to the moors above, but never had he expected to find it a means of preserving his own life and the life he valued dearer than his own. Setting his teeth, he glanced backward and then urged the horse to renewed efforts. The wall of water was almost upon them, advancing with terrible and steady persistence. The last moment seemed to be at hand.
Suddenly the Colonel wrenched at the horse's bit and pulled the animal up with a jerk. As it fell back on its haunches he slipped off with the almost insensible girl in his arms and ran desperately towards the sloping green bank, which showed itself like a port of safety between the bare, bleak stones. As he gained it the horse, having recovered itself, rushed past with a loose bridle and with the stirrups lashing its sides. But Towton paid no heed. Almost in a dream he scrambled up the bank, bearing Ida as though she were a feather-weight. With straining eyes and bursting temples, and with his heart beating furiously, he clambered desperately, dragging the girl rather than carrying her, as he needed at least one hand free to grip the tough grasses. Fortunately the slope was gradual, and had it not been there would have been no hope of escape. As it was, when they were a considerable way up the mighty wave surged majestically past, and its waters shot up the crevice with gigantic force. This was rather a help than a hindrance, as it assisted the almost broken man to mount higher. But to the end of his days Colonel Towton never knew how he saved his wife. All he could remember was straining upward, dragging the now insensible woman with aching limbs and a blood-red mist before his eyes. When his brain was somewhat clearer he found himself bending over Ida in a turfy nook, while barely three feet below him the grey water gurgled and sang and bubbled as if in a witch's cauldron.
"Safe! Safe!" muttered Towton, and dropped insensible across the inanimate body of the woman he had so miraculously saved from a terrible death.
* * * * * *
Nine months later, when the cuckoo had brought summer to the land, and the earth was gay with flowers, two married men met unexpectedly in the viridarium of the Athenian Club. They came face to face under the peristyle, and after mutual glances of surprise and congratulation burst out laughing. Then followed a warm handshake and merry speech.
"Well, married man," said Vernon, as he sat opposite his friend at a small table and ordered a half-pint of champagne to signalise the happy meeting. "So you are back from your honeymoon?"
"As you see," said the military benedict; "and you have returned with Lady Vernon from the classic shores of Italy."
"We came back last week, and are staying in town for a few days before going to Slimthorp."
"Welcome by the tenantry, triumphal arches, addresses, dinners and speeches, and what not, I suppose?" observed the Colonel smiling.
"Oh, yes. The tenants are delighted to have a master who will take an interest in their doings and a mistress who can act the Lady Bountiful. Lucy and I are about to enter into our kingdom, so we intend to take full advantage of the satisfaction of our loving subjects."
"You are devilish lucky, Vernon. I have scarcely a loving subject left, and Bowderstyke Valley has been swept clean from end to end."
"As I saw," replied Sir Arthur with a shudder at the recollection. "By jove! Colonel, you don't know what I suffered that afternoon when I thought that you and Ida were smashed to pieces. Do you remember how Lucy fainted when you appeared coming across the moorland with Ida hanging half dead on your arm? It was a meeting of the living and the dead."
"Any woman less plucky than Ida would have died," said Towton, his face lighting up with a fond smile. "When we got beyond the highest level of the water she had fainted, and then I did. It was Ida who recovered first, and, by Jupiter, sir, she brought me round! How we climbed to the top of the moor I don't know, but she was as plucky as a man, bless her!"
"How is she now, Colonel?"
"As happy as the day is long, although I don't deny that we both feel sad when we look at our wrecked property. However, with her money we intend to rebuild Bowderstyke Village and to reconstruct Gatehead, which was also destroyed, if you remember. I daresay we'll be able to inveigle people to live in the valley by offering land at low terms. In a year or two we will have plenty of tenants to give you and Lady Vernon a rousing welcome when you pay us a visit."
"That won't be for some time, Colonel, as we have to look after our own kingdom. I am glad to see that you are looking so well. When was it that we last met?"
Towton laughed and his eyes twinkled. "You must be happy to have lost your memory so completely," he said with a jolly laugh. "Why, after our mutual wedding breakfast at Lady Corsoon's; don't you recollect? Weren't we married in great style on the same day, and didn't you go to Italy and Greece for a honeymoon while Ida and I returned to The Grange?"
"It all seems like a dream," said Vernon absently, and a cloud passed over his face, "and in my newly-found happiness I have tried to forget these sad memories. We never had an exhaustive talk over things, Colonel, and now that our wives are not here I should like to ask a few questions."
"Ask away. It's just as well we are alone. Ida doesn't care to talk of that dreadful day or of her association with Miss Hest."
"Nor does Lucy. That dreadful woman! What a dare-devil she was, and as clever as they make them."
"She was a sight too clever," replied Towton drily, "as she burnt her fingers at the last. I suppose you know that Miss Jewin was caught?"
"You wrote me something about it."
"Didn't Lady Corsoon tell you anything?"
"No. Why should she?" said Vernon with a look of surprise.
"Well, as you knew the secret of her pawning those jewels, I thought she would have told you of their recovery."
"What! Were they recovered? Who had them?"
"Miss Jewin. She escaped, but Drench caught her. She sent for me before she committed suicide."
Vernon looked horrified. "Did she kill herself, poor wretch?"
"Yes. She hanged herself by her garters in her cell. I expect she knew that she would get a long term of imprisonment, and so preferred to get out of the world. But, as I said, she sent for me and told me where the jewels were. She also threw a light on the catastrophe of the Bolly Dam breaking."
"We knew that Hokar exploded a charge of dynamite," said Vernon looking inquiringly at his friend. "Don't you remember how he could not get away in time, and confessed when dying that he had been ordered by Miss Hest to blow up the dam when she gave the signal by firing a revolver."
"Oh, yes. I remember that as it all came out in the papers," said Towton with a shrug; "and that's just the point. Listen, and---- Oh, here's the wine."
Vernon sent away the waiter after he filled their glasses, and the two gentlemen drank to their dear wives and to a happy future for themselves as married men. When this ceremony was ended, the Colonel related what he had learned from unfortunate Miss Jewin before she passed away.
"I, dragged him down in disguise to Gerby Hall, and there locked him in an upper room. Miss Jewin acted as gaoler, but in spite of her vigilance the wretched man managed to break one of his prison bars and escape. He then appeared in the drawing-room and denounced Miss Hest. Always prepared for further treachery on the part of Maunders, and never being in the habit of leaving anything to chance, Frances had arranged that she should have the dam broken down in the event of the police coming to arrest her, and so they would be destroyed."
"But she would be destroyed with them," said Vernon at this point, "and as a matter of fact she was. Don't you remember how her body and that of Maunders clutching one another in a death-grip were found when the flood subsided? She anticipated her death."
"She did nothing of the sort, sir, as Miss Jewin told me. The betrayal of her identity with Francis Hest and with The Spider came unexpectedly because of Maunders' escape. But, always making things sure, she had already posted Hokar at the dam, where he had placed a charge of dynamite under the wall. Miss Hest didn't expect trouble, as she thought she had thrown dust in my eyes by the clever way in which she had acted."
"I think she did, Colonel, and very successfully," remarked Vernon smiling.
"I admit it. She was a wonderfully clever woman and extremely unscrupulous. However, on the chance that some danger might come along she posted Hokar at Bolly Dam and told him to fire the charge when he heard the report of a revolver."
Vernon nodded. "I remember on that day how the wind was blowing up the gorge and how clearly the sounds came up from the village. Hokar heard the shots very easily."
"He heard two or three, and might have guessed that his infernal mistress was not giving the agreed signal. She was shooting Maunders, if you remember. It was her intention after we left to have escaped by a similar crack up the side of the precipice behind Gerby Hall to that which saved Ida and myself. But she didn't intend to give the signal until she was on the upward journey with Miss Jewin; Maunders was to be left behind to drown in the house. But Miss Hest forgot for the moment and let her temper get the better of her. By firing the shots she gave the signal, and Hokar blew up the dam prematurely."
"I see. But if Miss Jewin escaped why didn't Miss Hest?"
"Ah, that's where her Nemesis came in. Maunders caught her by the leg and toppled her over, then he gripped her throat, and they were both drowned."
"Serve her right, and him also," said Vernon coolly.
"I agree with you. They were a dangerous couple, and it seems like retributive justice that Maunders should bring all her carefully-laid plans of escape to grief. Miss Jewin at the first alarm caught up the box of Lady Corsoon's jewels and fled out of the back way and up the crevice, as arranged. She concealed herself for a time, and was warned by the exhaustive reports in the papers of what was going on."
"That's the worst of those papers," said Vernon with disgust, "as I found out when I was a detective. They warn the criminals of everything. I suppose Miss Jewin saw how the whole story of The Spider was set forth and appreciated the sensation it caused."
"Of course she did. I was angry at the papers myself, for The Grange was simply infested with reporters and journalists and photographers. However, after the inquest the sensation died away. Everybody has, more or less, forgotten the matter by this time. It's just as well, as neither I nor you, Vernon, wished to be bothered with questions."
"Quite so. That was why I remained abroad with my wife for such a time."
"And that was why I went back with Ida to Bowderstyke," said the Colonel. "However, to continue. Drench caught Miss Jewin and she hanged herself in her cell, as I have told you. I found the box of jewels and returned them to your mother-in-law. Thus her husband has never found out how she pawned them; so that's all right."
"I hope it has been a lesson to her."
"Not a bit of it. I dined with her a week ago, and so did Ida. Afterwards we went to a bridge drive and Lady Corsoon played furiously. She's a born gambler. But Sir Julius does not know, and never will know, how she pawned his much-prized family jewels."
"I wonder Miss Jewin didn't sell them?"
"She had enough money to live on in a small way, and, of course, lived plainly to avert suspicion. The jewels she kept as a peace-offering in case she should be arrested. She hoped to make terms by threatening to denounce Lady Corsoon. However, her heart failed her, and she handed them over to me."
"Poor woman. By the way, Colonel, what was your wife's real opinion of Miss Hest? I could never quite understand."
Towton was silent for a few minutes. "It is hard to say. Ida told me that she really liked Miss Hest for a long time, and thought that she was a genuine friend. But Miss Hest showed the cloven foot by trying to get Ida married to Maunders, and----"
"Why to Maunders?"
"Because he was under Miss Hest's thumb, and if he obtained possession of Ida's fortune by marriage Miss Hest undoubtedly would have had the spending of it."
"But this marriage to Francis. How could that be when Francis didn't exist?"
"Oh, I think that was a mere blind to make Ida fancy Francis was a real person and not Miss Hest in disguise. I can never understand," added the Colonel with a thoughtful look, "how it was that Ida didn't detect the woman under the man. Women are so quick in these matters."
"It was the very boldness of the disguise," said Vernon emphatically. "I was taken in myself at that Georgian Hall Bazaar. A less clever woman than Miss Hest would have made herself look utterly different to her natural self. As it was, she scarcely changed her looks at all save by wearing a man's dress and painting that cicatrice on her face. Anyone would have said that the supposed brother was the sister dressed up. Such actually was the case, and--well, you know that everyone was taken in. A thousand pities, Colonel, that Miss Hest did not apply her splendid faculties to better purpose. She was undeniably very clever."
"A criminal genius, as we have often said when we talked of The Spider. I must say that Professor Gail, although he admired her talents, was staggered when he found out from the papers that she was the renowned Spider. I believe he had a fit. However, he has now made up endless romantic stories about her, and actually got an engagement with his wife on the strength of having known her. It's an ill wind which blows no one any good."
"If Frances Hest had lived and could have escaped hanging and imprisonment, Colonel, she would have been engaged at a music-hall to appear at a salary of hundreds a week. This age likes romantic criminality."
"I think Miss Hest's criminality was prosaic in the extreme," said the Colonel very drily. "She couldn't earn money honestly and therefore took the left-handed path. All her philanthropy was a sham, and I really believe that she had the Bolly Dam built less to supply the villages with water than to protect herself from arrest."
"But the human lives----"
"Pooh! She thought nothing of human life, and was a kind of female Napoleon in that way. She wrung Dimsdale's neck as though he had been a chicken the moment she found her personal safety was in danger. Had he not torn off her mask and thus recognised her she would have spared him. A marvellously clever woman: she quite took me in. I never expected to find The Spider in her, and had not Maunders escaped to betray her I would have believed that the non-existing Francis was the blackguard. And more, she would have got ten thousand pounds from Ida, and perhaps in America would have started on a new career of roguery. However, I recovered the signed document and the cheque from the body, so nothing was said about that matter in the papers. I was glad for my wife's sake."
"What became of Bahadur?"
"He bolted from the country and has never been heard of. His uncle, Hokar, as you know, died after the explosion."
"And Mrs. Bedge?"
"She buried all memory of Constantine with his bones, but I think she regards him as a martyr who was led astray by Miss Hest. Yet from the lips of The Spider herself I learned that it was Maunders who induced that very clever lady to become a criminal."
"Do you think Maunders himself blackmailed his aunt?"
"He was quite capable of it. But I think Miss Hest did that to protect Maunders from possible suspicion. For no one would think that the man had anything to do with the matter of The Spider, who blackmailed his adopted mother. Simply a smart trick of Miss Hest's, Vernon, that's all."
"Have some more champagne, Colonel?"
"Thank you, no more. Come along and see my wife."
"I have to meet Lucy at Swan & Edgar's," said Vernon glancing at his watch.
"I'll go with you there first and then we can have afternoon tea together."
"Right you are, Colonel, on condition that you dine with Lucy and myself at our hotel and come to the theatre afterwards."
Towton nodded. "Well, Ida and I are up in town for a frolic, so we'll come."
"When do you return to Bowderstyke?"
"In two or three days. I'm seeing about the re-building of the Bolly Dam."
"Isn't that dangerous?" asked Vernon as they left the club. "No. I am arranging for large channels to carry off the water. Besides, had not the dam been blown up by that Indian beast the catastrophe would not have taken place. Any more questions?"
"No," said Sir Arthur after a pause. "I think you have enlightened me on every point. We'll talk no more of the matter."
"Not in the presence of our wives, at all events," said the Colonel bluffly, and stepping out smartly along Pall Mall. "But when I think of all the mystery and devilish cantrips we have had to do with, and how narrowly Ida and I escaped a dreadful death, I can only thank God that we are happily married. There's one small domestic animal, if it can be called so, Vernon, on which I can never look without a shudder."
"What's that?" asked Sir Arthur, not following his friend's train of thought.
"What, sir! What, have you forgotten the past already?"
"Oh!" Vernon laughed, but somewhat seriously. "You mean a spider."
"Yes," snapped the Colonel sharply, "I mean a spider."