Beatrice might have supplied a clue; but for reasons connected with the Paslow family she held her tongue, and feigned4 ignorance when the rural police came on the scene, which they did very speedily, owing to the zeal5 of Mrs. Snow. The sergeant6 of the district questioned and cross-questioned Miss Hedge, with very little success. She told him that, on the previous evening, she had gone for a walk in the woods round The Camp, but did not mention with what object. There, as she stated very truly, she had been caught in the storm, and at some unknown time had stumbled home wet and weary, and so tired that she had at once slipped into bed. The note from her stepfather was produced, and confiscated7 by the sergeant; the details of Mrs. Snow's curiosity leading to a discovery of a crime, were given; and then Beatrice professed8 that she could tell no more. The bucolic9 constable10 believed her readily enough, and informed his Inspector11 who came that Miss Hedge had told the truth and nothing but the truth. This might have been so, but she certainly had not told the whole truth, else might the sergeant have added to the note left by the dead man, a certain gentleman's handkerchief, marked with three initials--"V.R.P."
This piece of evidence Beatrice had picked up so near the body, that a corner of the handkerchief was soaked in the life-blood of the miser12. Her quick eye had seen it almost the moment she had entered the dungeon13 at Durban's heels, and when falling on her knees by the dead she had mechanically picked it up, without lynx-eyed Mrs. Snow seeing the action. Durban would only allow the women to remain for two minutes in that place of death. Then he drove them out, and insisted that Beatrice should retire to her parlour. She did so while he reclosed the door of the counting-house, and while Mrs. Snow, almost too excited to speak, ran for the nearest constable, who in his turn summoned his sergeant.
Alone in the parlour, Beatrice, still mechanically grasping the handkerchief, suddenly remembered how she had found it, and at once examined the corners. It was with a gasp14 of terror that she realised to whom it belonged. "V.R.P." could only stand for Vivian Robert Paslow, and he--as she knew only too well--was the enemy of the deceased. Could it be that Vivian had killed the miser to settle the question of marriage, and secure his threatened property from getting into the cruel clutches of his victim? In that first moment of horror Beatrice was inclined to think so. Then, with a revulsion of feeling, she recoiled15 with horror from so base an idea. The man she loved was not a midnight assassin: however much he may have hated Alpenny, he certainly would not have put the old man to death in so barbarous a fashion. Finally, he had been with her under the Witches' Oak last night, and could not possibly be guilty.
Then, again, on further thought it occurred to her that such an alibi16 could scarcely serve in this case. The meeting at the haunted tree had taken place about seven o'clock, and had lasted, so far as she could reckon from confused recollection, for a quarter of an hour. Then had come the episode of the pursuit of the watcher by Paslow, her own flight through the woods, the breaking of the storm, and her fainting-fit. She might have been hours unconscious; she might have been hours getting home, for she had very little recollection of that mad passage through the furious wind and rain. Only she remembered reaching The Camp between the gates, and blindly falling into the arms of a lean, tall man with a black patch over his left eye. Had that man been Vivian? Was it truly her lover who, in the intervening time, had stolen to the deserted17 Camp, and using the key of the small gate (which she knew he possessed18) had gained access to the dungeon, there to commit his crime? No! It was impossible. If she could only remember the time when she came back! This was hard to do, and yet it was done, for chance came to her aid.
Besides the cuckoo-clock which had awakened19 her, Beatrice possessed an old silver watch, given to her on some far-distant birthday by Durban. It stood on a small stand beside the bed, and she remembered that in slipping between the sheets, weary and half asleep, she had knocked this down between the table it stood on and the wall. Some instinct must have directed her to look for it at the moment. She thrust the incriminating handkerchief into her pocket, and ran to the bedroom carriage. There she found the watch--found also that it had stopped at the hour of nine o'clock. It was just possible that the stoppage had occurred when she had knocked it over. She certainly had wound it up as usual on the previous night, and twice before, when knocked off its stand, it had stopped dead.
"Yes," thought the girl, inspecting the yellow dial, "it must have been stopped by the fall, unless"--she shook it vigorously--"unless it has run down"; but a steady ticking told her that the main-spring was not yet fully20 unwound, and she replaced the watch on its stand, with a firm conviction that she had entered the bedroom at nine on the previous evening. Vivian had left her to follow the spy at a quarter past seven, so he could easily have committed the crime, so far as time and opportunity went, as one hour and three-quarters had been taken up by her in getting home. An alibi, therefore, was little good in this case, and on the evidence of the handkerchief he would assuredly be hanged.
"No! no! no!" murmured Beatrice with rising inflection, and speaking aloud in her agitation21; "it is untrue. Vivian would never commit so cowardly a deed as to kill an old man of eighty, however much he may have hated him. I shall hide the handkerchief--but where? The police are sure to search the place, and--and----" A sudden thought struck her. "I'll keep it in my pocket," she decided22, and thrust it, neatly23 folded up, to the very bottom of that receptacle. Later, she intended to cautiously question Paslow, and learn if he had been to The Camp on that night. But the conversation would be between their two selves. She would tell no one else of the handkerchief she had picked up, not even Durban, faithful servant though he was.
It was at this moment, and as though in response to her mental mention of his name, that Durban appeared. He looked much shaken by the tragedy, and was green with scarcely concealed24 fright. Beatrice eyed him with astonishment25, as she had never deemed him to be much attached to the old tyrant26 who had gone so violently to his long rest. Durban evaded27 her searching glance, which was perhaps fortunate, as the girl herself did not wish her own countenance28 to be too closely scrutinised.
"I've shut it up in the counting-house," said Durban, his eyes on the ground, and jerking his thumb over his shoulder. "The police will be here soon. Mrs. Snow will tell them; she'll be glad of the chance."
"Why? Did she know my--the late Mr. Alpenny?"
"That's right, missy." Durban raised his eyes with approval, and dropped them again. "Never call him your father."
"He was my stepfather," Beatrice reminded him.
"Ah--hum--yes," gurgled Durban. "Yes, missy, Mrs. Snow knew master before you were born--at Convent Grange."
"I heard her say that Colonel Hall's throat had also been cut."
Durban shuddered29, and leaned against the door. "Yes," he whispered faintly, "that was so, missy."
"Mr. Alpenny's throat has been cut in the same way."
Durban half smiled, but his expression was wry30 and twisted. "There is only one way to cut a throat, missy."
"Ugh!" Beatrice turned pale, and threw up her hand. "Don't!"
"It is a nasty subject, missy. I--I'm sorry for the master. And yet," he added, half to himself; "if ever a man deserved what he got, master was that man."
"What do you mean?" asked Beatrice, taking a step towards him.
"Master had many enemies," went on Durban, again casting his eyes on the ground; "a money-lender always has."
"Then you know----"
"I know nothing," snapped the man angrily, and wiping his swarthy face with a duster. "Master sent me to London last night, as you knew, missy. I only came down by the morning train, and walked here, in time to find you with Mrs. Snow. What did she want?"
Beatrice smiled faintly in her turn. "Subscriptions31 for the church spire32, which was blown down last night."
"Oh! That was the excuse?"
"Excuse for what, Durban?"
"To see you, missy, and learn---- But there!" Durban turned away. "She came here to make mischief33 between you and master. Thank Heaven he is dead, and you will get the money. Mrs. Snow can't harm you now."
"Why should she wish to harm me, Durban?"
"That's a long story, missy. Now that the master is dead, I can tell it to you. But first we must learn who killed----"
"I know," interrupted Beatrice quickly; "a tall man, with a black patch over his left eye."
Durban turned greener than ever. "How do you know that, missy?" he asked in a strangled voice.
"I saw him when the gates were open, about nine o'clock last night."
Durban looked at her sharply. "Then you did go for that walk, missy?"
"Yes, I had to. Mr. Paslow wished to see me. Durban"--she made a step forward, and clutched his arm tightly--"I'll tell you what I don't intend to tell any one else," and without giving the man time to make an observation, she related the whole story of her adventure, suppressing only the episode of the handkerchief. This she did, so as to avert34 any possible suspicion from Vivian, since Durban, knowing that Paslow had been with her, would not connect him with the crime--that is, if he was stupid enough not to calculate the time, and thus prove the futility35 of the alibi.
Durban listened quietly enough. "I am glad that Mr. Paslow will marry you, missy," he said at last, and removed her grasp from his arm. "You will inherit a lot of money from the dead master. It ought to be twenty thousand a year!"
"But, Durban, Mr. Alpenny told me very plainly that if he died, I would be a pauper36."
"I don't believe it," burst out the half-caste; "he would not dare to--to----" Here he halted and stammered37, "C--c--curse him!"
"Durban!" She stepped back a pace in sheer amazement38 at the savagery39 of the tone.
"Dead, or alive, curse him!" cried Durban, his voice gathering40 strength from the intensity41 of his hate. "He was a scoundrel--you don't know how great a scoundrel. Missy"--he grasped her arm in his turn--"you shall have the money, I swear it. Then marry Mr. Paslow, and go away for a few years, till all blows over."
"Till what blows over?" asked Beatrice anxiously.
"Hush42!" Durban let go her arm, and controlled himself by a violent effort. "The police! Say as little as you can. You know nothing--I know nothing."
"Durban, are you afraid?"
"Of Mrs. Snow. Hush!"
The last words were scarcely out of his mouth when the two policemen, who had entered the gates left open by Mrs. Snow, came up to them with important airs. The sergeant was stout43 and short, the constable lean and tall.
"We take possession of this place, miss," said the stout man breathlessly.
"In the name of the King and the law," finished the lean person.
"And anything you say will be used in evidence against you," they both murmured in a breath, then stared sternly at the startled girl and the green-hued half-caste.
"Do what you like," said Beatrice, drawing herself up; "neither myself nor Durban know anything."
"But----" began the sergeant, snorting with excitement.
"I will answer all questions at the proper time, and at the proper place," said Miss Hedge, cutting the plethoric44 man short. Then she retired45 into her bedroom and shut the door.
The constables46 grumbled47 at her sharpness of speech, but went to work. They examined the body, searched every inch of The Camp, made plans, took notes, asked innumerable questions of Durban, and finally insisted that Beatrice should submit to an examination. This she did composedly enough, but said as little as she well could. It was her intention to reserve an account of what she had seen for the inquest. She did not even tell the Inspector, when he arrived to take charge of the case.
There was immense excitement in Hurstable. The quiet little Sussex village had never before been defiled48 by a crime of this brutal49 kind. Sparsely50 populated as the district was, a great number of agricultural labourers gathered in a remarkably51 short space of time. Their wives and children came also, and the police had much difficulty in keeping them out of the precincts of The Camp. Then by next day the news had reached Brighton, and crowds of tourists--it being the holiday season--poured into the Weald on foot, on bicycles, in motor cars and carriages, and by train. With them came the reporters from various newspapers, London and local, and the whole place buzzed like a hive at swarming-time.
Beatrice remained in The Camp under charge of Durban. Dinah Paslow came to offer her the hospitality of Convent Grange; but, much to the surprise of Beatrice, the man who had proposed to her on that fatal night never made his appearance. Without any embarrassment52, Dinah told her friend that Vivian had gone to town as soon as he heard that Alpenny was dead.
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1
nemesis
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| n.给以报应者，复仇者，难以对付的敌手 | |
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2
seclusion
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| n.隐遁，隔离 | |
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sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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feigned
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| a.假装的，不真诚的 | |
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zeal
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| n.热心，热情，热忱 | |
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6
sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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7
confiscated
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| 没收，充公( confiscate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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8
professed
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| 公开声称的，伪称的，已立誓信教的 | |
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9
bucolic
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| adj.乡村的；牧羊的 | |
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constable
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| n.(英国)警察，警官 | |
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11
inspector
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| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
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12
miser
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| n.守财奴，吝啬鬼 (adj.miserly) | |
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13
dungeon
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| n.地牢，土牢 | |
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14
gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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15
recoiled
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| v.畏缩( recoil的过去式和过去分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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16
alibi
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| n.某人当时不在犯罪现场的申辩或证明；借口 | |
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17
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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18
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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19
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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20
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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21
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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22
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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23
neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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24
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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25
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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26
tyrant
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| n.暴君，专制的君主，残暴的人 | |
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27
evaded
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| 逃避( evade的过去式和过去分词 )； 避开； 回避； 想不出 | |
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28
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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29
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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30
wry
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| adj.讽刺的；扭曲的 | |
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31
subscriptions
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| n.（报刊等的）订阅费( subscription的名词复数 )；捐款；（俱乐部的）会员费；捐助 | |
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32
spire
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| n.(教堂)尖顶，尖塔，高点 | |
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33
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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34
avert
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| v.防止，避免；转移(目光、注意力等) | |
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35
futility
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| n.无用 | |
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36
pauper
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| n.贫民，被救济者，穷人 | |
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37
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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38
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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39
savagery
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| n.野性 | |
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40
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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41
intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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42
hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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44
plethoric
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| adj.过多的，多血症的 | |
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45
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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46
constables
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| n.警察( constable的名词复数 ) | |
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47
grumbled
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| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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48
defiled
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| v.玷污( defile的过去式和过去分词 )；污染；弄脏；纵列行进 | |
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49
brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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50
sparsely
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| adv.稀疏地；稀少地；不足地；贫乏地 | |
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51
remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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52
embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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