Mrs. Jennings' news was so startling that Gerald could only fall back on his pillow and stare at her excited face. Pleased with the effect which she produced, like all gossips, she continued rapidly to explain, breathlessly.
"The milkman's master--Evans is his name--went at seven this morning with the milk to the Pixy's House. Miss Bellaria always came to the gate and opened it to take the milk in. He found the gate wide open, and Miss Bellaria lying on the path within the grounds, stabbed to the heart, and as dead as a stone. Evans gave the alarm in the village, and many people went into the grounds and up to examine the house. They found no one there: that poor lunatic was gone. Evans sent on his man to tell the police here, and he came in for a drink. I had the whole story out of him. Isn't it dreadful, sir? To think that we should have been talking of that crazy Meg only yesterday, and that she should commit so dreadful a crime."
"Stop," said Gerald sharply, and somewhat recovering himself, "you cannot say if Miss Durham is guilty."
Mrs. Jennings . "Not say she is guilty! Why, sir, if she isn't, who can be? It's well known that Miss Durham, as you call her, sir, always wanted to kill people, and that was why she was shut up. Not being able to get at another person, she has murdered poor Miss Bellaria, who watched her, and then ran away--to murder again, I suppose. Oh, how very dreadful it all is! When I said yesterday that we might be murdered in our beds, I little thought that we should be."
"Nonsense, nonsense!"
"Begging your pardon, sir, but it's gospel truth that I am speaking," said the , , "with a lunatic at large one never knows what may happen. The police --and a very nice man he is--has already sent to Denleigh asking Major Rebb to go to Leegarth. Everyone is talking about things with blood and in them. And I ask your pardon, sir, for having come into your bedroom, but I thought you would like to know. Oh, dear me! dear me!" Mrs. Jennings her plump hands and retreated towards the door, in a flurried condition. "I'll bolt and bar every window and door at sunset: no murders for me."
Having herself out of the room, she banged the door, and Haskins, sitting up in bed, placed his hands on either side of his head, to think matters over. He found it difficult to believe the news, and yet he might have expected to hear something of this sort. Of course he was absolutely certain that Mavis was innocent: but he could not understand why she had run away, nor could he guess who had the unfortunate Italian. Quite unable to eat his breakfast because of the intelligence, he jumped out of bed, and into the hip-bath which was in the centre of the room. The sooner he went downstairs and learned all that could be learned the better able would he be to see his way. If Mavis had been in danger from Major Rebb before, she was now in greater danger than ever, as he assuredly would use her assumed to prevent her inheriting the money.
"Nothing will make anyone believe that Mavis is other than guilty," was the young man's soliloquy: "her crazy reputation is enough. If she is caught, they will shut her up in an , notwithstanding the denial she is sure to make. Then Rebb will be able to keep the money, according to the strict letter of the will. And yet--and yet----" He his fist. "I believe that Rebb himself is guilty of the crime."
He had really no reason to make such an : but the happening of the crime was so for the Major that it did not seem impossible for him to have had a hand in it. Assuredly he might not have struck the blow himself, but the unscrupulous Geary could easily have been employed to remove Bellaria. Not that Rebb, on the face of it, would wish to lose so useful a servant, but if it was necessary that Mavis should be accused of murder, to ensure her being placed in an asylum, Bellaria was the nearest and most natural victim.
But these arguments were , as Gerald reflected while , for he did not know exactly what had taken place. It was necessary to learn when the crime had been committed; where the body had been found--the precise spot, that is--and, if possible, to discover the weapon which had been used. If the yellow-handled knife was picked up anywhere near the the would be that Geary had killed the woman, although Mrs. Jennings had made no report of this. But the thought recalled to Haskins' mind the attack made upon him by the negro on the previous night. A knife had been used then, and he had it in the pocket of the suit he had worn. On looking at it again he saw what had struck him before, that the handle of this particular weapon was black, and not yellow. What then had become of the famous sacrificial knife, of which Mavis had spoken? Why should Geary not have used this when striving to murder Gerald? That question could only be answered when the yellow-handled knife was found.
Haskins could not wear the in which he had been attacked, as they were all over with oil from Geary's body, He therefore flung this suit into his portmanteau, and, as the day promised to be extremely hot, dressed himself in white drill. Thus clothed, although far from being in his right mind, by reason of inward perturbation, he , to find the hotel with excitement.
Everyone was talking of the Leegarth tragedy, as such an event had never before startled the town. The bar was crowded with idlers, and Mr. Evans' messenger was being supplied with as much drink as he could swallow. However, he was yet sober enough to answer the few questions which Haskins put to him. No weapon had been found; the police had gone to Leegarth; the guilt of Miss Durham was certain; she had vanished, and search was being made; wires had been sent far and wide ordering her arrest; policemen were the countryside on bicycles; sooner or later the murderess would be captured and everyone would be relieved. So the man babbled on, and, having learned all that was possible, Gerald went to hire a bicycle in order to proceed to Leegarth.
He did not feel the least hungry, for obvious reasons, but as he had a long and exhausting day before him he was wise enough to force himself to eat and drink. Thus he rode up the steep Silbury High Street, and into the surrounding country. So rapid was his pace, and so eager was he to learn the best or the worst at once, that in a marvelously short time he found himself before the high wall which girdled the Pixy's House and its park. In this wall double gates of rough iron were set, but the grounds could not be seen from the lane as boards had been placed across the bars to prevent anyone looking in. This had been done--as Gerald learned from a chatty villager--many years before, when the crazy girl and her dead watcher had come to live there.
Policemen guarded the gates, and preserved order amongst the rapidly increasing crowd, which every minute. The terrible news had traveled with lightning speed, and from far and wide came all who were of curiosity. The police were expected from Exeter, and in the meanwhile Inspector Morgan of Silbury was within the grounds, searching round. Major Rebb had not yet arrived.
On learning this latter fact, Haskins at once demanded admission, so that he might interview Morgan. When Rebb came, he knew well that it would not be possible to with the case, as the Major would insist that he had nothing to do with it. But, in order to discover any evidence that might be suppressed by Rebb--should he or Geary be guilty--Haskins made up his mind to examine as much into the matter on the spot as would be permitted to him. After sending in his request he received a reply in a few minutes, and this led to his being conducted by a young through the jealously guarded gates, and into the presence of the inspector. Morgan was on the lawn, drawing a plan of the grounds, and several policemen were beating about the long grass, searching for something.
"Have they found the knife?" asked Gerald, coming up swiftly.
Morgan looked at him keenly. He was a tall and burly man, with a red face and white hair, easygoing and tolerant, who would not be difficult to manage if treated diplomatically. Nevertheless he resented Haskins' question with stiff official dignity. "May I ask who you are, sir?" he demanded.
Gerald to the card which the inspector held. "My name is there, Mr. Inspector. I came here because I am interested in the case."
"On what grounds? For what reason?" questioned Morgan, still stiffly.
Haskins did not hesitate. On the way hither he had resolved to be absolutely frank, if frankness were necessary. To deliver Mavis from her dangerous position he would have to give some reason for championing her, and--having regard to the searching examinations of the law--he deemed it best to tell the absolute truth. If he did not, Rebb might possibly make some use of his knowledge of the secret visits to get him into trouble. He therefore cast his bombshell boldly. "I am engaged to marry Miss Durham," he stated slowly.
Morgan, in spite of official phlegm, dropped his pocketbook in sheer , and two , who overheard, looked round with expressions of blank . "What do you mean, sir?" stuttered the inspector, growing redder than ever. "Are you making a fool of me? Miss Durham was mad: she could not be engaged to anyone."
"Miss Durham was , as I am prepared to swear, and to prove my belief in her I am willing to make her my wife."
"A murderess?"
"She is not a murderess. Whomsoever killed that unfortunate Bellaria Dondi, the poor girl who was shut up here is at least innocent."
"Dear! dear! dear!" Morgan scratched his head, and looked bewildered. "I never came across anything so extraordinary in my life. If Miss Durham was shut up here--and everyone knows that she was guarded on account of her --how came you to see her?"
"In a rather way, Mr. Inspector, but what I tell you can be by my friend and legal , Mr. Ian Roy Macandrew." And after thus guarding himself from the tale being received with disbelief Gerald the finding of the , and his subsequent dealings with the matter.
Morgan gaped and stared, not knowing what to make of so extraordinary a story. "Then this young lady was not crazy?"
"No," said Gerald . "I am certain she was in complete possession of her senses."
"Then why was she shut up?"
"You had better ask Major Rebb that," said Haskins dryly, "he will be here soon. In proof of the truth of my story, you can look for the canoe, which is hidden in the undergrowth on the other side of the pool below the river wall."
Morgan nodded, with his pale blue eyes on the speaker. "Do you know anything of this murder?" he asked .
Gerald laughed shortly. "Are you............