YOUNG JUDAS
The next morning Michael was pronounced to be out of danger by Dr.
Payne, and appended his signature to the confession. He still held to
his indignant attitude against Beryl, and was most anxious that he
should be arrested. So far as he knew, Beryl was innocent of the crime;
but Durham knew better. Having the evidence of Tolomeo and possession of
the fatal handkerchief, he was perfectly content to believe that Julius
was guilty. Since he was one of the Gore family, it was a grave question
as to whether he should be arrested. But seeing that Bernard's character
could not be cleared until the whole truth came out, and the wrongdoer
suffered for his wickedness, it was agreed that a warrant should be
obtained for the guilty person. This business was entrusted to Durham,
and he departed for town by the mid-day train.
"And you can ride over to the castle, Conniston," he said to that young
gentleman, who accompanied him to the station, "and tell Bernard to hold
himself in readiness to come to London."
"Will he be arrested?"
"I fancy so. But I can't yet be sure. At all events, Beryl will be
accused and taken in charge, so Bernard will soon be set free."
"What about Jerry?"
"I will go to Scotland Yard as soon as I arrive, and see if anything has
been heard of the young scamp. However, if we get Beryl, we may be able
to do without Jerry."
"Do you intend to have Michael arrested?"
"Yes," said Durham, calmly, "as an accessory before the fact. I can't
say if he is innocent or guilty."
"But, Durham, you heard him declare that he was unaware that Beryl
intended to kill Sir Simon. Michael only called to see about the check."
"I doubt that part of his confession," replied the lawyer, dryly. "It
appears to me that Michael would have kept out of the way had he
entertained the slightest idea that Sir Simon--as he did--guessed that
the check was forged. Besides, I want to have a mention of Michael
Gilroy's arrest put in the papers, so that his mother may be withdrawn
from her hiding-place."
"Do you think she will come?"
"I am certain. She alone knows what took place when Beryl entered the
house and how he strangled the old man. I am convinced that to save her
son she will denounce Julius, no matter what offer he has made to her
about holding her tongue. Here's the train. Good-bye, Conniston, and
bring Bernard up to town when I send a wire."
The train steamed off, and Conniston was left standing on the platform.
"I do hope all this business will soon be at an end," he said to
himself. "I am about weary of surprises."
Already it had been arranged that Miss Berengaria should keep an eye on
Michael--who never expected to be arrested--so Conniston had no need to
return to the Bower. Mounting his horse he took his way along the
high-road to the castle, and arrived there somewhere about two o'clock.
As there was no one about the place he put up the horse himself, and
then came to the front door. Much to his surprise it was locked, but a
vigorous ringing of the bell brought Mrs. Moon to the door. That
estimable lady looked worried, and her pallid face was whiter than ever,
gleaming like the moon itself from the frilling of her cap. When she saw
her master, she lifted up her large hands.
"Goodness be praised your lordship has come," said she, with a moan and
groan combined in a most extraordinary way. "Have you seen my wicked
Victoria, your lordship?"
"No. Has she gone away?"
"Last night," said Mrs. Moon, drifting into the hall. "Bless your
lordship dear, she went away before ten o'clock in her best things,
saying she would be back. And not an eye have I set on her since. But
then I expect the coming of Jerry upset her."
"Jerry!" shouted Conniston, throwing down his cap. "Did you say that
Jerry was here?"
"Yes. He's here, your lordship, and he has sent Mr. Grant mad. As soon
as Jerry set eyes on Mr. Grant last night, when he come at nine o'clock,
he had his hair standing on end. Mr. Grant, he was amazed-like also, and
took Jerry to his room. There he have kept him locked up, and wished to
send a messenger to your dear lordship, and----"
Conniston waited to hear no more. He tore up the stairs two at a time,
and burst red-faced and excited into Bernard's sitting-room.
His friend had already heard his hasty footsteps, and was on his feet
staring at the door. "I'm glad you've come, Conniston," he said
breathlessly. "That boy Jerry is here, and I've locked him up in case he
should get away and tell Beryl."
"Beryl has his hands full at present," said Conniston, grimly. "As to
Judas, he's wanted by the police."
"The dickens! What for?"
"For trying to poison Michael Gilroy!"
Bernard stared. "Michael Gilroy? Where is he?"
"At Miss Plantagenet's. It's a long story. I'll tell it to you as soon
as I can get my breath. Where's Jerry?"
"Shut up in an empty room," said Bernard. "He came last night at nine or
thereabouts. I was outside the castle door and saw him coming. I did not
know it was him until I stepped into the hall. When Jerry saw me, his
hair rose on end, and he appeared to be frightened out of his life."
"As he well may be," muttered Conniston.
"I collared him, and he tried to get away. But I took him to my room and
kept him there. He refused to answer my questions unless I let him go.
Of course not being able to trust him, I declined, so I am quite in the
dark as to what he has been doing. I then shut him up in an empty room,
with a barred window, and sent Victoria in to take him some food. And
then a queer thing happened, Conniston. Victoria took him in the food,
and was with Jerry for about ten minutes. When she came out she went
downstairs and dressed herself in her best. Then she left the castle,
and has not been heard of since. I am afraid she has gone to tell Beryl
where I am," concluded Bernard, gloomily. "And I may be arrested to-day.
I should have looked after Victoria, but I never knew that Jerry would
act so promptly. He is a perfect imp for cleverness."
"Don't you trouble your head about being arrested," said Dick, drawing a
long breath. "It's not about that Victoria has gone."
"But what can the boy have sent her away for?"
"To warn Beryl. It's a pity you didn't keep the two apart," said
Conniston, much vexed. "But as you have been so much in the dark, you
can't help the mistake you made. As to arrest, you may have to give
yourself up. Mark told me to inform you to hold yourself in readiness."
"I shall be delighted," said Gore, emphatically. "I am about tired of
this hole-and-corner business. But what about Michael Gilroy?"
"Sit down," said Conniston, lighting a cigarette. "I will tell you the
whole story. It was not told you before, as Mark was afraid, with your
impatient disposition, you would insist on turning up and spoiling the
whole business."
"I daresay I should have done so," admitted Bernard, frankly. "But, tell
me, what's up, old chap? I'm on tenterhooks."
"Well, in the first place, we have discovered that Julius killed your
grandfather."
Bernard started to his feet. "What!" he shouted, then calmed down. "I
almost expected to hear you say that," he added. "How was the villain
found out?"
"You may well call him a villain," rejoined Conniston; "he has tried to
poison Michael."
"What for?"
"To get rid of an undesirable witness, I suppose. He employed Jerry to
give him some arsenic in a cup of tea. Jerry did so, and then cleared
out, Mark communicated with Scotland Yard about Jerry, but we never
expected he would be here. It's a lucky thing you kept the young wretch
prisoner, Bernard."
"This is all very well," said Bernard, who looked bewildered. "But you
tell me so many facts without detail that I can't understand how to
connect them. Tell me the whole story."
"You won't interrupt if I do?"
"No," said Gore, impatiently, "fire ahead, Dick."
Conniston did so at once, and related all that had hitherto been kept
from Gore's knowledge. Bernard listened in silence, save for an
occasional ejaculation, which showed how difficult he found it to keep
his promise not to interrupt. "And I think Mark was about right to keep
these things from you, Bernard," said Conniston, when he ended. "For you
are in a wax hearing them now."
"And who wouldn't be in a wax?" demanded Gore, furiously. "Look at the
way in which I have been treated. Beryl has made me a scape-goat for his
own wickedness. I have been compelled to hide my head. I have been
accused of an awful crime--my reputation has been ruined. I should think
I am furious, and I have a right to be."
"Bernard! Bernard!" said Dick, shaking his smooth head, "your troubles
have taught you little. It was your furious temper that led you to fight
with Sir Simon. You then said words which made it probable to outsiders
that you committed this crime. And now, when all is on the eve of being
cleared up, you have as bad a temper as ever."
"But think of that man Michael masquerading as me," went on Bernard,
determined to speak out. "It was bad enough in London, but that he
should dare to come to Alice--oh!" in an access of rage he shook his
fist. Then he sat down to recover himself. "You are right, Dick," he
remarked, wiping his forehead, "I'm a fool. I'll never learn wisdom.
Heaven knows I have had a severe lesson. I will try and control this
beastly temper of mine. But, after all, seeing that I love Alice so
much, it is not to be wondered at that I should be annoyed at another
man taking my place."
"He didn't," replied Conniston, calmly and soothingly. "Miss Malleson
guessed the truth about him straight off. She has only used him as an
instrument to learn what she could. Don't you fuss, Bernard. What we
have to do is to question Judas, and see if he can supplement the
revelations of Michael, your half-brother."
"Don't talk about that fellow being my half-brother."
"Well, he is, isn't he?"
"Yes, but--well, I suppose I should rather pity than blame the chap."
"I think so too," said Dick gravely. "Miss Berengaria says there is much
good in him. She intends to assist him when she can."
"I shall help him also," said Bernard, after a pause. "The poor fellow
can't help his birth, and I owe him something for the way in which my
father behaved to his mother."
"This is a change of temper," laughed Conniston.
"Oh, I soon get into a rage and soon get over it," rejoined Gore,
impatiently. "But we must examine this boy, Dick. He won't answer me
though. I have been asking him plenty of questions."
"He'll answer me," said Conniston, rising. "I know about the poisoning.
He won't face that."
"But did he really----"
"Yes, he did. I told you he was an imp of darkness, though, to be sure,
I never expected he'd begin to murder people at his tender age. Come
along, Bernard, show me the captive."
Gore led the way from the room and along a narrow passage. At the end of
this was a door, which he opened. It led into a large empty room, but no
sooner was the door opened, than a small boy darted out and endeavored
to get away. He ran straight into Conniston's arms.
"Now then, young Judas," said Dick, setting the boy on his legs and
giving him a good shake. "Come and be tried."
"My lord," gasped Jerry, who was pale with terror, and who had red eyes
and disordered hair.
"Yes! I know all about your poisoning, young man."
Jerry dropped on his knees. "I didn't," he declared, "oh lor, I really
didn't. Miss Plantagenet ordered the tea. She gave me the cup I----"
"Here," said Conniston, giving him another shake, "stop that rubbish,
you young beast. You dare to say such things of my aunt, who has been so
kind to you. Hanging is too good for such a scamp. Come along, and
answer our questions."
But Jerry, grovelling on the floor, embraced Conniston's riding-boots in
an agony of terror. "Oh, please," he whimpered, "I didn't mean to do any
harm. Mr. Beryl gave me some white stuff and told me to give it in tea
to the sick gentleman. I thought it would do him good!"
With great disgust Dick picked up the young liar in his arms and carried
him kicking to the sitting-room, followed by Bernard. When the door was
closed, Bernard locked it, and there was no chance of Jerry getting
away, as the window was thirty feet from the ground. Gore took a seat in
one arm-chair and Conniston threw himself into the other, after flinging
Jerry on the hearth-rug. The boy lay there, kicking and howling, nearly
out of his wits with terror.
"Shut up!" said Dick, sharply. "You have to answer questions."
"I sha'n't," said Jerry. "You'll hang me."
"There's no chance of that, worse luck," said Conniston, regretfully.
On hearing this, the boy sat up. "Isn't he dead?" he asked eagerly.
"Oh!" mocked Bernard, "and you thought the white stuff would do the sick
gentleman good--you young scoundrel! No. He isn't dead, Lord Conniston
says, but small thanks to you."
"Oh!" Jerry seemed at once relieved and disappointed. "I won't get the
two thousand pounds now."
"And you won't be hanged either, though you richly deserve it."
"I don't. I've done nothing," said Jerry, sulkily.
"You have attempted to poison Michael Gilroy----"
"Do you know his name, Mr. Grant?"
"Yes! And you know mine, Master Jerry. Come now, you must reply to the
questions which Lord Conniston wishes to put."
"Sha'n't," said Jerry, and set his pretty, tearful face firmly.
"Judas," said Conniston, taking his riding-whip from a near table,
"there's only one course to be pursued with boys like you. If you don't
speak out, I'll give you one of the finest thrashings you ever had in
your life."
"I'll have an action against you then," snapped Jerry, very pale.
"Certainly. But you'll have to get out of prison to bring it."
"Prison?" Jerry quavered and shook all over.
"Yes, prison," mimicked Conniston. "Do you think you can behave like a
young criminal and get off scot free?"
"I was deceived by Mr. Beryl. He's older than I am. I am only a boy."
"You are old enough to be hanged, at all events."
"You said I wouldn't be, my lord."
"That depends upon my good word," said Conniston, bluffing; "and you
won't have that unless you confess."
"Confess what, my lord?"
"All about this business connected with Beryl," put in Gore. "It was you
who led me to the house in Crimea Square."
"I didn't--I didn't!" And then Jerry uttered a howl as Conniston's whip
came across his back.
"Hold your tongue and answer."
"How can I hold my tongue and answer at the same time, my lord?"
Conniston took out his watch. "I'll give you two minutes to make up your
mind to talk sense. You are clever enough when it suits you. If you
won't speak, I'll thrash you thoroughly, and then take you up to be
handed to the police."
"And if I do, my lord?"
"I'll spare you the thrashing. But you must go to the police. You are
being enquired for, young Judas. Only by confessing the whole can you
avoid danger to your neck."
"Only Mr. Beryl can get me into trouble, and you won't find him," said
Jerry, tauntingly. "I sent Victoria to him with a letter last night, and
she must have caught the eleven train to London. I daresay she saw Mr.
Beryl last night, and he's got away."
"Why did you act so promptly?" asked Gore.
"Because I saw you, Sir Bernard. I knew the game was up, and that you
were playing the fool with Mr. Beryl in getting that will signed."
"Ah! so we all were," said Conniston, calmly. "The game is up, so you
had better explain your share in it. Begin from the time you were kicked
out of Taberley's for stealing."
"I sha'n't," said Jerry. "I don't believe you can hurt me."
Dick's patience was exhausted. He caught the young wretch by the scruff
of the neck and thrashed him thoroughly. Jerry, who had never been
beaten before in his life, wept and howled and begged for mercy. At last
Conniston threw him again on the rug thoroughly cowed, and between sobs
Jerry expressed his willingness to reply to whatever questions were put
to him. The examination was conducted as though Conniston was a
barrister and Jerry a witness. Bernard, in the character of a reporter,
went to the writing-table and took notes. Jerry stood wiping his eyes
and replying tearfully.
"When did you meet Beryl?" asked Dick.
"At Taberley's. He knew I was Mrs. Moon's grandson, as he saw me here at
one time. When I was kicked out, he promised to help me. I was told to
watch Sir Bernard, and I did. I saw you, my lord, with Sir Bernard in
the Park. I was always watching Sir Bernard."
"I see. That was why you sold matches. Well, and it was you who told
Beryl that Sir Bernard was at Mr. Durham's house on that night?"
"Yes," snuffled Jerry. "I saw him go in. I then went to the theatre, and
Mr. Beryl came out to see me. I told him, and he said I was to bring Sir
Bernard to the Square."
"In any case, Beryl intended Sir Bernard should be brought there on that
night?"
"Yes. About eleven o'clock or a little earlier. And I waited outside on
that night and----"
"You needn't explain that," said Gore, turning his head. "I remember how
you drew me to the place. Did Beryl tell you to speak of the Red Light?"
"Yes. He said you would come if I talked of a lady and the Red Window.
And Sir Simon had arranged the red light with a lamp and a handkerchief,
Mr. Beryl told me afterwards. I didn't know it on the night. All I had
to do was to bring you to the Square."
"And what about the whistle you gave?"
"That was to let Mr. Beryl know you were outside?"
"Was Beryl in the house at that time?"
"No," said Jerry, after a few moments of thought. "He should have been
there, but he afterwards told me that he had come earlier and had gone
away."
"Did he intend to murder Sir Simon?"
"I can't say," replied the boy, doubtfully. "He made that chap, Gilroy,
dress up as you, and court the housemaid. His idea was to get Sir Simon
to think you were making love to Jane. I think he wished to bring you to
the house, so that on seeing the red light you might go in, and then Sir
Simon would have quarrelled with you for loving Jane. I don't think he
intended murder. But Michael Gilroy came and saw Sir Simon, and then
bolted when he saw the Italian, thinking he was a detective. He told Mr.
Beryl that the next day!"
"Who came to the house on that night, Jerry? State the time they came
also."
Jerry thought again. "The Italian came first, and while he was in the
room, about ten I think, Michael came. Then Michael bolted, and the
Italian followed. Then shortly after ten Mr. Beryl came from the
theatre----"
"Did you see him?"
"No," rejoined Jerry, tartly. "How could I? I was leading you then."
"Didn't you see Beryl at all that night--I mean again after you saw him
to tell him where Sir Bernard was?"
"Yes, I did," said Jerry, rubbing his legs which were sore. "I may as
well tell the truth. Just as we turned into Crimea Square, Sir Bernard,
I brushed past Mr. Beryl."
"How could you recognize him in the fog?"
"I did. I saw him under a lamp. He was going back to the theatre and was
very pale. Then I cut to look after Sir Bernard. I gave the whistle and
then I cleared. Next day Mr. Beryl told me all that had taken place."
"Did you think he had committed the crime?"
"No, I thought that Michael had. He had forged a check, and I thought
that he would quarrel with Sir Simon and kill him."
The boy spoke in all earnestness, so apparently Julius had been clever
enough to keep the fact of his own guilt secret. But for the
handkerchief it would have been difficult to have accused him. Conniston
asked a final question. "How much do you get for all this?"
"Two thousand pounds if Michael died."
"If you poisoned him?" asked Bernard.
"Yes," said Jerry, sulkily. "I did intend to poison him, as I wanted the
two thousand pounds. I came on here, and was then going to hide in
London. After that, I should have sent for Victoria, and when Mr. Beryl
paid, we would have gone to America."
"And why didn't you carry out this clever plan?" asked Gore.
Jerry turned still more sulky. "Because I saw you, and then I knew the
game was up. Even if Michael had died, you would have been able to claim
the property."
"Then Beryl really believed I was dead?"
"Yes, he did--so did I. When Victoria wrote me that you were here, I
thought you were Michael. And when Michael came over to the Bower, I
thought he had come from here. If I had known the truth----"
"Well?" said Bernard, dryly.
Jerry smiled amiably. "I'd have chucked Mr. Beryl and offered to prove
your innocence if you gave me the two thousand. No," added Jerry, with a
charming smile, "I'd have asked three thousand from you."
The young men looked at one another in wonder at this precocious
criminality. "Can you prove my innocence?" asked Bernard.
"Yes," said Jerry.
"You know who killed Sir Simon?"
"Yes, I do. But I won't tell till I have seen Beryl," and this was all
they could get out of him, in spite of threats of further whippings and
cajolings. So Jerry was taken back to his room, and Bernard arranged
with Conniston that the boy should be taken to London that very day.
"And then, when Durham lets me know, I'll surrender myself. But I wonder
who killed my grandfather after all."
"Julius Beryl," said Conniston.
"Hum! I don't know. This boy seems to have some idea. I tell you what,
Dick, I shouldn't be surprised if the boy did it himself."