It did not require a particularly clever man to guess that Lord Curberry was connected with the Society of Flies. Had he been entirely ignorant of that association, he would not have displayed such agitation when he saw the paper in Dan’s hand, nor would he have struggled to gain possession of them, much less have destroyed them. Penn certainly was one of the gang, and on that account, probably, Curberry had engaged him as a secretary after the death of Moon. Also he may have had some suspicion that Penn was a traitor, and had guessed that the papers betrayed the society. Otherwise, he would have placed the same before the Coroner, so as to elucidate the reason why the secretary had been done to death. That he had been, Halliday was quite convinced, as Penn was too nervous a man to commit suicide and must have been assisted out of the world by some other person.
“But the verdict of suicide has been brought in,” argued Laurance, when Dan related his adventures.
“I daresay. Curberry’s evidence was to the effect that Penn had been considerably worried of late. Of course, that is true, but he wouldn’t have killed himself, I’ll swear. However!” Dan chuckled, “I have a sheet or two remaining of the confession, and we may learn much from that.”
“Will it state that Curberry belonged to Queen Beelzebub’s gang?”
“I think so. If Curberry does not, he would have made a row and kicked me out of the house. I had no business in the library and no right to take the papers, you know. But I defied Curberry to create a scandal, and left him in a pleasing state of uncertainty as to what I knew and what I intended to do. He was green with fright.”
“You had better take care, Dan, or the society will murder you,” warned Laurance, in an uneasy tone.
“Oh, I’m safe enough for the given month,” returned Halliday, positively; “so far, I have said nothing, and until I do notify the authorities all will be well with me.”
“But Miss Moon?”
“I join her, and Mrs. Bolstreath, at St. Pancras this evening, to catch the six o’clock express to Thawley. Have you written to Miss Vincent?”
“Yes. There is no time to receive a reply, but she is aware that the ladies will stay at the Peacock Hotel, Sheepeak, under the wing of Mrs. Pelgrin. I only hope,” added Freddy, emphatically, “that you are doing right in placing Miss Moon in the lion’s mouth.”
“Under the guns of the enemy, you said before. Oh, yes, I am right, especially now that I hold a part of Penn’s confession. I shall contrive to let Mrs. Jarsell know that I do, and that if anything happens to Lillian, I can make it hot for her.”
“Does the confession implicate Mrs. Jarsell?”
“Yes, it does. I have not had time to decipher the crooked writing of our late friend, but intend to do so when in the train this evening. But the little I saw, hinted that Mrs. Jarsell was in the swim.”
“I wish you would leave the confession with me,” said Laurance, who was desperately anxious to know the exact truth.
“Can’t, my dear fellow, nor have I time to let you read it, even if I had it on me, which I haven’t. My taxi is at the door of this office, and I’m off to St. Pancras in five minutes. Remember, Freddy, that this confession is my sole weapon to protect Lillian. When Mrs. Jarsell learns that I have it, she will not dare to move, and will keep her subjects off the grass also.”
“But Curberry will tell her that he has destroyed the confession.”
“So he thinks,” chuckled Halliday, “but I shall tell her that I rescued enough of it to damn her and her precious gang.”
“But how can you tell her without danger?”
“I shall find a way, although I haven’t formulated any scheme as yet. Perhaps she will ask me what all this — the story of Queen Beelzebub you know — has to do with her. I shall reply that it has nothing to do with her, but that I know how she desires to assist in my love affair. Oh, I’ll manage somehow, old son, you may be certain. Good-bye.”
“Wait a moment,” said Laurance, following Dan to the door, “what about Sir John Moon? He will make a row over Lillian’s flight, and you will get into trouble.”
“He may make a row if he likes, but as Lillian is under the wing of Mrs. Bolstreath, her duly-appointed chaperon, I don’t see what he can say. She is quite ready to take all blame.”
“Of course,” said Laurance, thoughtfully, “Sir John may belong to the society himself, in which case, like Curberry, he dare not make a row.”
“No,” rejoined Dan, positively, “I don’t believe Sir John belongs to the gang. I wish he did, as it would smooth things. Curberry dare not make open trouble, because he is one of Queen Beelzebub’s subjects, but Sir John may because he isn’t. However, I shall risk taking Lillian away with Mrs. Bolstreath to play the part of dragon, and Sir John can do what he jolly well likes. Luckily, he is in the country on a visit just now, so we can get clear away without a fuss. By the way, you were at the inquest. Was there any fly found on Penn’s body, or was there mention of any scent?”
“No. The man was drowned, and it was not possible for either scent or fly to be on his corpse or clothes. The evidence clearly pointed to suicide.”
“H’m. Curberry brought that about,” said Dan grimly; “however, I am jolly well sure that Penn was murdered by one of the gang.”
“Not by Curberry. He was away at the time of the death.”
“Perhaps. I’d like to be certain of that. But in any case, he may have others of the gang in his employment, who could polish off the traitor. Queen Beelzebub’s subjects are of all classes, Well, I’m off.”
Halliday took his way to St. Pancras forthwith, and found Mrs. Bolstreath and her charge waiting for him. Lillian was greatly excited and curious, as she did not yet know the reason for this sudden trip northward. Instructed by Dan, the chaperon had refused to impart knowledge, as the young man intended to tell the girl everything when they were in the train. However, Miss Moon was enjoying the unexpected journey and had every faith in her companion. Also, so long as she was in Dan’s company, she did not care where she went, or why she went, or when she went. She loved Halliday too completely for there to be any room for distrust in her mind.
“Dan,” said Mrs. Bolstreath, when they were stepping into the first-class compartment which Halliday had wired to reserve to themselves, “I have written to Sir John saying that Lillian required a change, and that I was taking her to Hillshire, to see some friends of mine. When he has this explanation he will not make any trouble, or even any inquiries. He has every trust in me.”
“Good,” said Dan, heartily, “you make an excellent conspirator.”
“Conspirator,” echoed Lillian, gaily, “now what does that mysterious word mean, Dan? I am quite in the dark.”
“You shall know all before we get to Thawley. Make yourself comfortable!”
“Do we stay at Thawley?” asked the girl, arranging her rug.
“For the night. I have telegraphed, engaging rooms for you and Mrs. Bolstreath at the best hotel. To-morrow we go to Sheepeak.”
“Where is that?”
“Some miles from Thawley. You must live quietly for a short time, Lillian.”
“It’s all immensely exciting, of course,” cried Miss Moon, petulantly, “but I should like to know what it all means.”
“Patience! Patience!” said Dan, in a teasing tone, “little girls should be content to wait. By jove, we’re off.”
The long train glided out of the station, gathering impetus as it left the lights of London behind. Mrs. Bolstreath made herself comfortable in one corner of the compartment, and Lillian did the same in another corner, while Dan sat on the opposite seat and addressed his conversation to both impartially. The girl could scarcely restrain her impatience, so anxious was she to learn the reason for this unexpected journey.
“Now, Dan, now!” she cried, clapping her hands, “there is no stop until Bedford, so we have plenty of time to hear the story.”
“One minute,” said Halliday, who was now in possession of the three sheets of foolscap, which he had rescued from Curberry’s grip, “I must bring the story up to date, and cannot do so until I read this statement. By the way, Lillian, why should Penn send to you about the matter?”
“I’m sure I don’t know. But, of course, he knew how grieved I was over my father’s murder, and perhaps wished to set my mind at rest.”
Dan looked at her curiously. “Why should you think that Penn knew of anything likely to set your mind at rest on that point?”
Lillian cast down her eyes thoughtfully. “I always thought that Mr. Penn knew much more than he would confess about poor father’s death. I quite forgot that I thought so until I got the letter asking me to look into the second volume of Gibbon’s ‘Decline and Fall’ in Lord Curberry’s library. Dear me!” murmured the girl, folding her hands, “how I did try to get into the library.”
“Curberry would not let you?”
“No. I think he was puzzled why I wished to go. But he did not ask me any questions.”
“I quite believe that,” said Dan, grimly; “asking questions was a dangerous game for him to play. However, when he found me in the library, he evidently recalled your desire to go there, and it flashed across him that we were working in concert. No wonder he destroyed the papers on the chance that Penn might have left incriminating evidence behind him.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” said Lillian, fretfully.
“Well,” observed Dan, smoothing out the foolscap, “Penn, no doubt, left the clue as to the whereabouts of the confession to you, so that you might learn who murdered your father.”
“Ah, I always believed Mr. Penn knew. Is the name in that paper?” she asked eagerly, and leaning forward.
“It may or it may not be, dear. You see the greater part of the confession was destroyed by Lord Curberry. He was afraid.”
“Dan!” Lillian caught her lover’s hand, “you don’t think that Lord Curberry killed my father?”
“No, no, no!” said Halliday, quickly. “I am sure he did not. However, you shall hear all that I know, and Laurance knows, and all that Mrs. Bolstreath is acquainted with. Only let me read these few sheets first.”
The girl, on fire with curiosity, would have objected, but that Mrs. Bolstreath touched her shoulder significantly. With an effort to restrain her curiosity which was creditable considering the circumstances, she nestled into her corner of the carriage, while Dan glanced through the manuscript. In spite of Penn’s crooked handwriting — and it was very bad indeed — it did not take much time for the young man to master the contents of the confession. He uttered an exclamation of vexation when he reached the end.
“Like a serial story, it breaks off at the most interesting part,” he said, crossly. “However, I have learned something.”
“What have you learned?” demanded Mrs. Bolstreath immediately.
“All in good time,” said Halliday, quietly. “I must first tell Lillian what we both know, and then I can bring our discoveries up to date by saying what is in this confession,” and he tapped his breast-pocket, wherein he had placed the sheets. “Now then, Lillian.”
“Now then, Dan,” she mocked, “just tell me all, for I cannot keep silence any longer.”
“You will have to, if you desire to hear the story. Only don’t be worried by what I am about to tell............