LAX, THE MURDERER.
Frank Jones found his brother Florian alone in the butler's pantry,
and was told that Peter was engaged in feeding the horses and
cleaning out the stables. "He's mostly engaged in that kind of work
now," said Florian.
"Who lays the tablecloth?" asked Frank.
"I do; or Edith; sometimes we don't have any tablecloth, or any clean
knives and forks. Perhaps they'll have one to-day because you have
come."
"I wouldn't give them increased trouble," said Frank.
"Papa told them to put their best foot forward because you are here.
I don't think he minds at all about himself. I think papa is very
unhappy."
"Of course he's unhappy, because they have boycotted him. How should
he not be unhappy."
"It's worse than that," whispered Florian.
"What can be worse?"
"If you'll come with me I'll tell you. I don't want to say it here,
because the girls will hear me;--and that old Peter will know
everything that's said."
"Come out into the grounds, and take a turn before dinner." At this
Florian shook his head. "Why not, Flory."
"There are fellows about," said Flory.
"What fellows?"
"The very fellows that said they'd kill me. Do you know that fellow
Lax? He's the worst of them."
"But he doesn't live here."
"All the same, I saw him yesterday."
"You were out then, yesterday?"
"Not to say out," said Flory. "I was in the orchard just behind the
stables; and I could see across into the ten-acre piece. There, at
the further side of the field, I saw a fellow, who I am sure was Lax.
Nobody walks like him, he's got that quick, suspicious way of going.
It was just nearly dark; it was well-nigh seven, and I had been with
Peter in the stables, helping to make up the horses, and I am sure it
was Lax."
"He won't come near you and me on the broad walk," said Frank.
"Won't he? You don't know him. There are half-a-dozen places there
where he could hit us from behind the wall. Come up into your room,
and I'll tell you what it is that makes papa unhappy." Then Frank
led the way upstairs to his bedroom, and Florian followed him. When
inside he shut the door, and seated himself on the bed close to his
brother. "Now I'll tell you," said he.
"What is it ails him?"
"He's frightened," said Florian, "because he doesn't wish me to
be--murdered."
"My poor boy! Who could wish it?" Here Florian shook his head. "Of
course he doesn't wish it."
"He made me tell about the meadow gates."
"You had to tell that, Flory."
"But it will bring them to murder me. If you had heard them make me
promise and had seen their looks! Papa never thought about that till
the man had come and worked it all out of me."
"What man?"
"The head of the policemen, Yorke Clayton. Papa was so fierce upon me
then, that he made me do it."
"You had to do it," said Frank. "Let things go as they might, you had
to do it. You would not have it said of you that you had joined these
ruffians against your father."
"I had sworn to Father Brosnan not to tell. But you care nothing for
a priest, of course."
"Nothing in the least."
"Nor does father. But when I had told it all at his bidding, and
had gone before the magistrates, and they had written it down, and
that man Clayton had read it all and I had signed it, and papa had
seen the look which Pat Carroll had turned upon me, then he became
frightened. I knew that that man Lax was in the room at the moment. I
did not see him, but I felt that he was there. Now I don't go out at
all, except just into the orchard and front garden. I won't go even
there, as I saw Lax about the place yesterday. I know that they mean
to murder me."
"There will be no danger," said Frank, "unless Carroll be convicted.
In that case your father will have you sent to a school in England."
"Papa hasn't got the money; I heard him tell Edith so. And they
wouldn't know how to carry me to the station at Ballyglunin. Those
boys from Ballintubber would shoot at me on the road. It's that that
makes papa so unhappy."
Then they all went to dinner with a cloth laid fair on the table, for
Frank, who was as it were a stranger. And there were many inquiries
made after Rachel and her theatrical performances. Tidings as to her
success had already reached Morony, and wonderful accounts of the
pecuniary results. They had seen stories in the newspapers of the
close friendship which existed between her and Mr. Moss, and hints
had been given for a closer tie. "I don't think it is likely," said
Frank.
"But is anything the matter between you and Rachel?" asked Edith.
At that moment Peter was walking off with the leg of mutton, and Ada
had run into the kitchen to fetch the rice pudding, which she had
made to celebrate her brother's return. Edith winked at her brother
to show that all questions as to the tender subject should be
postponed for the moment.
"But is it true," said Ada, "that Rachel is making a lot of money?"
"That is true, certainly," said her brother.
"And that she sings gloriously?"
"She always did sing gloriously," said Edith. "I was sure that Rachel
was intended for a success."
"I wonder what Captain Yorke Clayton would think about her," said
Ada. "He does understand music, and is very fond of young ladies who
can sing. I heard him say that the Miss Ormesbys of Castlebar sang
beautifully; and he sings himself, I know."
"Captain Clayton has something else to do at present than to watch
the career of Miss O'Mahony in London." This was said by their
father, and was the first word he had spoken since they had sat down
to dinner. It was felt to convey some reproach as to Rachel; but why
a reproach was necessary was not explained.
Peter was now out of the room, and the door was shut.
"Rachel and I have come to understand each other," said Frank. "She
is to have the spending of her money by herself, and I by myself am
to enjoy life at Morony Castle."
"Is this her decision?" asked Edith.
It was on Frank's lips to declare that it was so; but he remembered
himself, and swallowed down the falsehood unspoken.
"No," he said; "it was not her decision. She offered to share it all
with me."
"And you?" said his father.
"Well, I didn't consent; and so we arranged that matters should be
brought to an end between us."
"I knew what she would do," said Ada.
"Just what she ought," said Edith. "Rachel is a fine girl. Nothing
else was to be expected from her."
"And nothing else was possible with you," said their father. And so
that conversation was brought to an end.
On the next day Captain Clayton came up the lake from Galway, and
was again engaged,--or pretended to be engaged,--in looking up for
evidence in reference to the trial of Pat Carroll. Or it might be
that he wanted to sun himself again in the bright eyes of Ada Jones.
Again he brought Hunter, his double, with him, and boldly walked from
Morony Castle into Headford, disregarding altogether the loaded guns
of Pat Carroll's friends. In company with Frank he paid a visit to
Tom Lafferty in his own house at Headford. But as he went there he
insisted that Frank should carry a brace of pistols in his trousers'
pockets. "It's as well to do it, though you should never use them, or
a great deal better that you should never use them. You don't want to
get into all the muck of shooting a wretched, cowardly Landleaguer.
If all the leaders had but one life among them there would be
something worth going in for. But it is well that they should believe
that you have got them. They are such cowards that if they know
you've got a pistol with you they will be afraid to get near enough
to shoot you with a rifle. If you are in a room with fellows who see
that you have your hand in your trousers' pocket, they will be in
such a funk that you cow half-a-dozen of them. They look upon Hunter
and me as though we were an armed company of policemen." So Frank
carried the pistols.
"Well, Mr. Lafferty, how are things going with you to-day?"
"'Deed, then, Captain Clayton, it ain't much as I'm able to say for
myself. I've the decentry that bad in my innards as I'm all in the
twitters."
"I'm sorry for that, Mr. Lafferty. Are you well enough to tell me
where did Mr. Lax go when he left you this morning?"
"Who's Mr. Lax? I don't know no such person."
"Don't you, now? I thought that Mr. Lax was as well-known in Headford
as the parish priest. Why, he's first cousin to your second cousin,
Pat Carroll."
"'Deed and he ain't then;--not that I ever heard tell of."
"I've no doubt you know what relations he's got in these parts."
"I don't know nothin' about Terry Lax."
"Except that his name is Terry," said the Captain.
"I don't know nothin' about him, and I won't tell nothin' either."
"But he was here this morning, Mr. Lafferty?"
"Not that I know of. I won't say nothin' more about him. It's as bad
as lying you are with that d----d artful way of entrapping a fellow."
Here Terry Carroll, Pat's brother, entered the cabin, and took off
his hat, with an air of great courtesy. "More power to you, Mr.
Frank," he said, "it's I that am glad to see you back from London.
These are bad tidings they got up at the Castle. To think of Mr.
Flory having such a story to tell as that."
"It's a true story at any rate," said Frank.
"Musha thin, not one o' us rightly knows. It's a long time ago, and
if I were there at all, I disremember it. Maybe I was, though I
wasn't doing anything on me own account. If Pat was to bid me, I'd do
that or any other mortal thing at Pat's bidding."
"If you are so good a brother as that, your complaisance is likely
to bring you into trouble, Mr. Carroll. Come along, Jones, I've
got pretty nearly what I wanted from them." Then when they were in
the street, he continued speaking to Frank. "Your brother is right,
though I wouldn't have believed it on any other testimony than one
of themselves. That man Lax was here in the county yesterday. A more
murderous fellow than he is not to be found in Connaught; and he's
twice worse than any of the fellows about here. They will do it for
revenge, or party purposes. He has a regular tariff for cutting
throats. I should not wonder if he has come here for the sake of
carrying out the threats which they made against your poor brother."
"Do you mean that he will be murdered?"
"We must not let it come to that. We must have Lax up before the
magistrate for having been present when they broke the flood gates."
"Have you got evidence of that?"
"We can make the evidence serve its purpose for a time. If we can
keep him locked up till after the trial we shall have done much. By
heavens, there he is!"
As he spoke the flash of a shot glimmered across their eyes, and
seemed to have been fired almost within a yard of them; but they were
neither of them hit. Frank turned round and fired in the direction
from whence the attack had come, but it was in vain. Clayton did
bring his revolver from out his pocket, but held his fire. They were
walking in a lane just out of the town that would carry them by a
field-path to Morony Castle, and Clayton had chosen the path in order
that he might be away from the public road. It was still daylight
though it was evening, and the aggressor might have been seen had he
attempted to cross their path. The lane was, as it were, built up on
both sides with cabins, which had become ruins, each one of which
might serve as a hiding-place. Hunter was standing close to them
before another word was spoken.
"Did you see him?" demanded Clayton.
"Not a glimpse; but I heard him through there, where the dead leaves
are lying." There were a lot of dead leaves strewed about, some of
which were in sight, within an enclosure separated from them by a low
ruined wall. On leaving this the Captain was over it in a moment, but
he was over it in vain. "For God's sake, sir, don't go after him in
that way," said Hunter, who followed close upon his track. "It's no
more than to throw your life away."
"I'd give the world to have one shot at him," said Clayton. "I don't
think I would miss him within ten paces."
"But he'd have had you, Captain, within three, had he waited for
you."
"He never would have waited. A man who fires at you from behind a
wall never will wait. Where on earth has he taken himself?" And
Clayton, with the open pistol in his hand, began to search the
neighbouring hovels.
"He's away out of that by this time," said Hunter.
"I heard the bullet pass by my ears," said Frank.
"No doubt you did, but a miss is as good as a mile any day. That a
fellow like that who is used to shooting shouldn't do better is a
disgrace to the craft. It's that fellow Lax, and as I'm standing on
the ground this moment I'll have his life before I've done with him."
Nothing further came from this incident till the three started on
their walk back to Morony Castle. But they did not do this till they
had thoroughly investigated the ruins. "Do you know anything of the
man?" said Frank, "as to his whereabouts? or where he comes from?"
Then Clayton gave some short account of the hero. He had first come
across him in the neighbourhood of Foxford near Lough Conn, and had
there run him very hard, as the Captain said, in reference to an
agrarian murder. He knew, he said, that the man had received thirty
shillings for killing an old man who had taken a farm from which a
tenant had been evicted. But he had on that occasion been tried and
acquitted. He had since that lived on the spoils acquired after the
same fashion. He was supposed to have come originally from Kilkenny,
and whether his real name was or was not Lax, Captain Clayton did not
pretend to say.
"But he had a fair shot at me," said Captain Clayton, "and it shall
go hard with me but I shall have as fair a one at him. I think it was
Urlingford gave the fellow his birth. I doubt whether he will ever
see Urlingford again."
So they walked back, and by the time they had reached the Castle
were quite animated and lively with the little incident. "It may be
possible," said the Captain to Mr. Jones, "that he expected my going
to Headford. It certainly was known in Galway yesterday, that I was
to come across the lake this morning, and the tidings may have come
up by some fellow-traveller. He would drop word with some of the
boys at Ballintubber as he passed by. And they might have thought it
likely that I should go to Headford. They have had their chance on
this occasion, and they have not done any good with it."