MR. JASPER JARMAN RELIEVES HIS MIND
There was silence for a few moments. Edward Povey nervously poked
little holes in the gravel path with the ferrule of his walking-stick.
"Don't you think, uncle, that we had better discuss the situation
without personalities--or rudeness?"
Mr. Jasper Jarman's answer was a grunt.
"You see, uncle, I feel that I owe you some sort of apology, or at any
rate an explanation. I read what they said in the papers about you. I
laughed for ten minutes."
"You did, eh! Well, I read the same as you did, and I didn't laugh for
ten seconds."
"But I didn't take it seriously. I thought you would explain easily."
"Yes, and be convicted as an accessory--as one of the gang."
"Accessory to what?"
"To the theft of the bonds--you did well out of that, it seems."
Jasper's eyes took in his nephew's attire, the well-cut dark suit, the
gleaming jewel in the cravat. "I suppose you decided on San Pietro for
the same reason as I did."
"My dear uncle, I was never more astonished in my life than when I saw
you sitting there, outside the Cafe de l'Europe."
"Not more than I was to see you, Mr. Povey."
Edward sat for a moment gazing out over the sea.
"What I'm wondering at is that a clever business man like you should
run away from a shadow."
"Yes, the shadow of a jail--what."
"Not at all, uncle. I read in the Paris _Daily Mail_ weeks ago that
the bonds had been recovered and that the matter was ended. Why don't
you go back, now?"
"The fact that the bonds are safe does not explain my presence at
Adderbury Cottage. I'd have to say I was visiting you--and admit you
as my nephew."
"And you wouldn't like that?"
"It's not a relationship that I'm proud of, Edward."
Edward looked at his uncle. "As I remarked before, there's no need to
be rude," he said.
"I'm only stating facts, Edward. Remember, I go by what I have seen.
What were _you_ doing at Bushey, and, for the matter of that, what are
you doing here in San Pietro?"
Edward Povey rose and took a turn or two up and down the path. He had
asked himself at first whether he had been wise to attract his uncle's
attention. But he well knew that until he had found out the reason of
the old man's presence on the island, he would know no peace. He was
more than relieved to discover the true state of things and that his
uncle knew nothing of the Baxendale affair. The best thing to do now
was to get the old man back to Kidderminster as soon as possible.
There was nothing to associate Edward in his uncle's mind with the Mr.
Sydney who lived at Venta Villa, even if, as was hardly probable, that
gentleman's name were known to the carpet manufacturer. He pulled up
suddenly in his walk as a scheme suggested itself, and stood looking
down on Mr. Jarman.
"I really think, uncle, you had better go back and face the music--it's
a bit late, I'll admit, but it's your best move."
"And face the scandal too. Not me."
"There won't be any scandal if you do as I say. Write a letter to the
editor of your local paper--_The Kidderminster Shuttle_, isn't it?
Tell him that you have been on a long sea voyage by your doctor's
orders and that you haven't been able to write or receive letters for
weeks. Say that you have just read in an old number of the _Daily
Telegraph_ that you have been 'wanted.' Work up the indignation hot
and strong--say that you are hastening home to take proceedings for
libel against any one who has said a word against you. You must, also,
say that Kyser was a friend of yours and that he had lent you the
cottage at Bushey, and that when Aunt Eliza heard he was murdered, she
was frightened of ghosts and that is why you left so hurriedly. Say
she wouldn't sleep another night in the place for a fortune."
Edward paused and wiped the perspiration from his face. Jasper, who
had been looking glum enough when his nephew had begun to speak, now
raised his head with a little smile.
"You're a magnificent liar, Edward--same time I rather like your
idea--I believe you possess the elements of sense."
Edward smiled his acknowledgments, then went on--
"But I have a favour to ask, uncle. Forget you've seen me. I'm here
on business--secret political business."
"I shan't say a word. Get me out of this benighted place and I'll do
anything you like. Now come on with me to my hotel and I'll write that
letter."
The two men left the gardens and walked up towards the Old Town.
"I'm staying at The Three Lilies, a comfortable old place--nothing
grand and smart like these"--Jasper waved to the great hotels on the
front,--"but I wanted somewhere quiet, you see."
"The Three Lilies? Is that the little inn that faces an old castle
sort of a place--just on the edge of the Old Town?"
"Yes--why?"
"Oh, nothing. I'm only wondering if you have noticed anything strange
about that old place opposite."
"Well--they seem rather a queer lot. Men--mostly soldiers--come pretty
often to see the man who lives there. They come secretly too; there
was one the other night who hid in the yard under my window. I heard
something and looked out; you can understand the fright I got when I
saw the tip of a man's cigar."
"What kind of a man was he? Can you describe him?"
"I watched after I had put the light out. There was a horse standing
at the door opposite and the owner of the place came and saw a
man--another soldier--off the premises. When the sound of the horse
had died away in the distance, the man under my window crossed over.
I've often seen him."
"Sallow face, eh? Thin?"
"That fits him. He's been in the wars, however. I saw him to-day and
he walks with a crutch and carries his arm in a sling. Why? Do you
know the Johnny who lives in the castle?"
Edward did not answer; he was thinking deeply. These clandestine
meetings between Mozara and Dasso were only in accordance with the
suspicions that crowded his mind of a plot. A great joy filled his
heart as he told himself that Miranda was alive. He was glad he had
written to the Duc de Choleaux Lasuer, a strong arm to lean on would be
useful in the work Edward Povey had in hand.
It was late when they reached The Three Lilies and the house opposite
was in darkness. Edward accompanied his uncle to his room and together
they wrote their letter to _The Kidderminster Shuttle_. This done, the
younger man took his departure. He made an appointment with his uncle
at the stone seat in the gardens for eleven o'clock the next morning.
He was rather sorry he had advised the old man to hurry away; he would
have been useful as an informant, living as he did with the enemy under
his eye.
Any schemes such as these, however, were doomed to have a very rude
awakening. Edward arrived at the stone seat early and gave himself up
to his thoughts. His original misdemeanour in assuming the name and
personality of Mr. Kyser was all but forgotten in the light of later
events, and the plans for the location and rescue of Galva Baxendale.
In his own mind he was rather more than half a hero already, and the
shock which he received at five minutes past eleven was a sharp one,
and coming, as it did, hard upon his self-adulation seemed to him
unmerited and unfair.
As steps approached he looked up expecting to see the portly figure of
Mr. Jasper Jarman. Instead, he made out a lean and hungry looking
Corbian who, when he saw the figure on the seat, advanced, and
snatching off his greasy cap handed a letter to Edward.
"Meester Povee?"
Edward took the envelope and opening it drew out a sheet of paper. It
was dated at nine o'clock in the morning and was headed with the device
THE THREE LILIES.
"_EDWARD POVEY,_
"_Please accept my very best thanks for the advice you gave me
yesterday evening. You have in some measure atoned for the harm you
have done. On your head and yours alone rests the onus of my shattered
reputation, the anguish of your Aunt Eliza and the possible downfall of
one of the largest carpet factories in the Midlands._
"_Last night circumstances made it expedient that I should dissemble
and show you a tolerance I was far from feeling. You are a liar and I
do not doubt for one moment but that you are a thief. It was to avoid
the possible trial with such a scoundrel beside me in the dock that I
left England. When you get this I shall have departed from the cursed
island of San Pietro by the boat that leaves for Spain at ten. You did
not mention your poor wife to me. I do not expect I will run across
her, it being more than probable that you have murdered the poor woman
and buried her in the garden at Adderbury Cottage. If I do see her,
however, I will consider it my duty to acquaint her with the evil life
of self-indulgence and ease you are living in Corbo._
"_The messenger who brings you this is the son of the landlord of The
Three Lilies. I have told him that you will reward him--you can afford
it._
"_JASPER JARMAN_"
Edward tore the letter into little pieces and swore softly to himself.
It was a rude awakening to his dreams of rescuing distressed damsels.
Then he took a silver coin from his pocket and handed it to the son of
the landlord of The Three Lilies.
"There's no answer," he said shortly, and turned and walked up to the
bustling life of the boulevard. He had entered the gardens with the
feelings of Sir Galahad, he left them with those of Charles Peace.