HAVERLEIGH'S DEFENCE
Thanks to the care of Dr James, and the nursing of Mrs Jeal, the sick
girl took a turn for the better. In a remarkably short space of time she
began to improve, and when Leo arrived back in Colester she was on a
fair way of recovery. Although the doctor did not like Mrs Jeal, he
could not but admit that no mother could have been kinder than the
midwife. She waited hand and foot, day and night, on Pearl, and refused
to let anyone take her place, even when she was worn out with watching.
In the middle of her trouble she was called away to London.
One day shortly after the theft of the cup she received a telegram from
Town informing her that her father was seriously ill, and that she was
to come up at once if she wanted to see him alive. Now, if there was one
strong feeling Mrs Jeal possessed it was love for her father, of whom
she often spoke. Much as she liked Pearl, she was not prepared to stay
beside her in the face of such a summons. The old man might die if she
delayed.
"I can get Joan Barker in to nurse Pearl," she said to the doctor, "and
go at once to London. I may be away a week or two."
"Humph!" said James, running his eye over the telegram. "I suppose you
must go; the matter seems urgent. Mrs Barker is not so good a nurse as
you, though."
"But Pearl is much better, doctor," said Mrs Jeal, anxiously.
"Yes, I'll pull her through. Well, pack your traps, Mrs Jeal. Myself and
Mr Raston will attend to Pearl with the assistance of Mrs Barker. You
must leave me some address, though, in case anything goes wrong during
your absence. Not that I think anything will; Pearl is mending rapidly."
Mrs Jeal gave an address in a humble Battersea street, and in a few
hours was ready for the road. She took a tender leave of Pearl, to whom
she appeared to be sincerely attached, and that same morning left for
Portfront by a carrier's waggon. When she departed the village was still
filled with anxiety regarding the loss of the cup.
As has been said before, no railway had yet opened up the solitudes of
Colester and King's-meadows. But those who wished to get quickly to
London took the steamer from Portfront, and in a few hours came to
Worthing, at which place a train was easily procurable. Mrs Jeal took
this route, and having started early she arrived in Town that same
night. She sent a wire telling of her arrival to Dr James. He showed it
to Sir Frank Hale.
"Quick work," said James; "yet we are far enough away from the world
here."
"That's true," replied the baronet. "So Mrs Jeal has gone to Town! I
saw her at Portfront when I was there yesterday morning. It is not often
she goes to Town. I suppose she does not wish to lose the money."
"The money, Hale? What do you mean?"
"Why, it seems, from what Mrs Jeal told me, that her father is not badly
off, and if he dies she will come into a tidy bit of money. There are
other relatives, though, and she was afraid lest they should get the old
man to leave the fortune to them."
"Fortune!" said James, with a smile; "a large word for a small legacy."
"I don't know so much about that," responded the cripple, snappishly.
"From what the woman told me, her father is well off. He was a porter or
something in a stockbroker's office, and dabbled in mines himself. It
seems he was lucky in his speculations and made money. By the way,
James, has Haverleigh turned up yet?"
"No, but I heard that Mr Pratt had sent a telegram to him. I expect he
will wonder what is the matter that Pratt should ask him to come back."
"Not he!" growled Hale. "He knows well enough."
"Why, Hale, you don't believe he stole the cup?"
The cripple remained silent for a time. "It is a difficult thing for me
to say," he finally remarked. "You know, James, that my sister Edith is
deeply in love with the man. I don't like him myself; I never did. But
if he would marry my sister I should not decline the alliance. I put her
happiness before my own feelings. Well, under the circumstances, I
really am not prepared to give an opinion. I know that Leo was in debt,
and it is common talk that Mrs Gabriel refused to pay his debts; yet she
informed me that he went up to London to settle them. Now, he must have
got the money from somewhere, and who would trust him?"
"It looks black against him, I confess," replied James, shaking his
head; "still, I cannot believe that Haverleigh would sink to being a
common thief. You will see when he returns that he will be able to
explain."
"If he ever _does_ return," growled Hale, doubtfully.
"He will. Why, Miss Tempest believes in him, and he must come back if
only to justify her faith. I believe those two are in love with one
another, Hale. Well, they will make a handsome couple."
"He will have to get back his good name first," retorted Hale,
jealously. "And as to there being anything between them--I don't believe
it. Good-day, James. Don't go spreading cock-and-bull stories."
As the baronet walked off the doctor looked after him with a smile of
contempt. He knew that Hale was madly in love with the vicar's daughter,
and that he regarded Leo as a too successful rival. "You'll be delighted
if the poor chap comes to harm," muttered James; "you are a viper! But I
am sure Haverleigh will clear himself. A girl like Sybil Tempest is not
likely to be deceived in the character of the man she loves. I would
rather believe her than you, Sir Frank Hale!" And James, who had no
great love for the spiteful little cripple, walked away to see Pearl.
By this time the opinion was that Leo would not return. It was positive,
said the gossips, that he had stolen the cup in order to procure money
for the payment of his debts. The most likely thing was that he would
clear out of the country.
"What fools these people are," said Pratt, who heard this. "If the man
intended to leave the country he certainly would not pay his debts. Only
a heaven-born ass would do that. He would take the money himself and
leave his creditors unpaid." But the gossips did not see matters in that
light. They were bent upon thinking the worst of Leo.
All this time Mrs Gabriel said nothing, but remained shut up in the
castle. She knew well enough what was being said about Leo, and could
not bear to face anyone, the more particularly as she did not know how
to defend him. She denied herself to everyone, even to Pratt, although
he called several times to interview her on behalf of her nephew. The
young man had a strong defender in Pratt. He went about everywhere
insisting on Haverleigh's innocence. In this opinion he was supported by
Sybil, by the curate, and, strange to say, by Mrs Bathurst.
"The whole thing is absolute nonsense," said Mrs Bathurst. "Why should
Mr Haverleigh be such a fool? Mrs Gabriel would have paid his debts in
the long run. And then if he had not wished to pay them himself, he
could have enlisted and slipped away to Africa without anyone being the
wiser. Then there's another thing. He would not commit a crime for such
a purpose. If he was in difficulties before, he would not make them
worse by putting himself within reach of the law." All of which was
common-sense, although Leo's enemies were too much bent on thinking the
worst of him to accept such a reasonable view.
It was while matters were in this state that Leo Haverleigh returned. He
drove up to the castle one night without informing anyone of his coming.
Mrs Gabriel was amazed when he presented himself before her. He looked
bright and cheerful, not at all like a man who had been accused of a
sordid crime. But it must be remembered that Leo knew nothing of his new
reputation. All he knew was that Pratt, at the instance of Sybil, had
recalled him to Colester. He thought that this telegram had to do with
some new difficulty with regard to his love affairs.
"Good evening, mother," he said as he marched into the room where Mrs
Gabriel was sitting. "I have returned, you see."
"And are you not ashamed?" cried Mrs Gabriel, rising, with a wrathful
expression. "I thought some feeling of decency would have kept you
away."
"Oh, come now, mother," returned Leo, trying to keep his temper, "I am
not so bad as all that. If I have been foolish and extravagant, surely
you can forgive. Besides, my debts are paid. I am a free man."
"You won't be a free man long," said Mrs Gabriel, grimly. "I am willing
to do what I can for you, badly as you have treated me. But I cannot
condone a felony! That is out of the question."
Leo stared and sat down. "You use very extraordinary words," he said at
length. "I never heard that a man who was in debt could be called a
felon. Come, mother," he went on, trying to be amiable--a difficult task
with a woman like this. "Don't use big words for a trifle. I intended to
enlist, but I thought I would come down first to see you and talk the
matter over. You have been kind to me and I do not want to part in
anger. Let us arrange matters in a kindly spirit."
Mrs Gabriel looked at him aghast at his boldness. "How dare you speak to
me like this," she cried. "Are you not aware that everyone in Colester
is talking of your crime?"
"Crime!" Leo started to his feet. "What crime?" He looked bewildered.
"As if you didn't know! I wonder you have the impertinence to come back
here! How much did you sell the cup for?"
Leo still looked puzzled. "Cup!" he echoed. "What cup?"
Mrs Gabriel grasped him by the shoulders and shook him, her eyes blazing
with anger. "You are absolutely shameless," she cried. "I mean the cup
which Mr Pratt presented to the chapel, and you know too! It has been
stolen, and _you_ are the thief."
Haverleigh stared at her for a moment and then burst out laughing. "Is
this a joke, mother?" he said at length. "If so, it is a very poor
one."
"It is not a joke," retorted Mrs Gabriel, still angry. "The cup was
missing on the very morning you went up to London. You stole it, Leo,
and took it away to pay your debts. I never--"
"Nor did I!" cried Haverleigh, now beginning to lose his temper. "Who
dares to say such a thing about me?"
"The whole village says it, and everyone believes it."
"Does Sybil?"
"I don't know; nor do I care. And so far as she is concerned, you need
not think to marry her. Mr Tempest will never let his daughter become
the wife of a--"
"Stop!" cried Leo, before she could utter the shameful word. "How dare
you call me by a foul name? I know perfectly well you hate me; but you
have no right to believe that I did this thing. I know that Sybil
believes me guiltless. She would never credit the man she loves with
such a contemptible crime. And Pratt believes in me also. He sent me a
telegram asking me to come back. I thought it had to do with some
trouble you had made over my engagement to Sybil. I never expected this.
How dare you accuse me of such a crime?"
"The whole village accuses you," said Mrs Gabriel, passionately. "You
have paid your debts. I know you have. Where did you get the money? Not
from me--not from Pratt, for I asked him. And Barker saw you lurking
about the chapel on Sunday night at a late hour. What were you doing
there if it was not to steal? Oh, shame upon you, Leo! How can you
stand there and deny your guilt?"
"Because I am not guilty!" cried Leo, furiously. "I tell you I did not
steal the cup. I did not even know that it was lost. I _was_ near the
chapel on that night and at that hour. I can explain why I was there."
"Explain then," said Mrs Gabriel, with a stamp.
"Not to you, and not until I have thought over my position. Everyone
seems to have judged me guilty without giving me an opportunity of
defending myself."
"You cannot," muttered Mrs Gabriel. "You dare not!"
The scorn of her speech carried Leo beyond all bounds of prudence. He
had not intended to defend himself until he had consulted with Pratt.
The situation was so unpleasant and dangerous that he wanted an older
and wiser head than his own to deal with the matter. But Mrs Gabriel's
taunt made him forget his resolutions. "I dare, and I can!" he burst
out. "I went to the chapel to meet Sybil. Her father would not let us
see one another, so we had to do so by stealth. I was going away on
Monday morning, and she wished for a meeting, as I did myself. In her
pew she left a note, and she let me know by signs during the service
that she had done so. I looked in the vicar's pew after the service was
over, and found that she asked me to meet her at the door of the chapel
shortly after nine. I was there, and I saw old Barker going away. I
think he saw me, but as I did not wish to attract attention, I kept out
of his way as much as possible. Sybil came about half-past nine, perhaps
later, and we had a talk. Then I took her back to the Vicarage, and
returned here to sleep. I was on my way to Portfront by seven in the
morning. That is all I know."
"A likely story," sneered Mrs Gabriel. "I do not believe one word of
it."
Leo looked at her with great dignity. "If you do not choose to believe
me I cannot make you," he said; "but from this moment all is at an end
between us. God knows why you hate me so. I have done nothing to deserve
it. What I have told you is the truth. Sybil can vouch for it. I have
some hesitation in asking her to do so, as she will have to say that she
was alone with me at that late hour, and you know well what the gossips
will say. Still, if I am in danger of arrest, she will come forward,
although I would rather suffer myself than that she should be lightly
spoken of. I shall see her, and her father. For some reason best known
to you, Mrs Gabriel, Mr Tempest has taken a dislike to me. But he is a
just man, and I am sure he does not believe me guilty."
"You'd better see him and ask," said Mrs Gabriel, tartly. "I say again
that I don't believe your explanation. Where did you get the money to
pay your debts if it was not from selling the cup?"
"I borrowed it," retorted Leo, after a pause. "I did not intend to tell
you, but it seems I must, in order to clear my character. You would not
help me, and Pratt was not ready to do so. I daresay if I had pressed
him he would have helped me, but I did not think it right he should pay
for my folly. I borrowed the money, if you must know, from Frank Hale."
Mrs Gabriel, who had seated herself, looked at the young man
indignantly.
"Why will you tell these lies?" she said, trying to speak calmly. "I had
an idea that Hale might have assisted you, and I went to see him. He
absolutely denies that he lent you a penny."
Leo looked bewildered. "He denies the debt," said he. "Why he has my
acknowledgment! He gave me the three hundred pounds in gold on Sunday
morning. I packed it in a Gladstone bag, and took it to London with me.
There I paid it into my bank, and gave my creditors cheques for--"
"In gold!" burst out Mrs Gabriel, contemptuously. "Is it likely that in
these days a man would pay such a large sum otherwise than by cheque?
Why, if you said notes it would be more reasonable, but gold--bah!"
"I tell you he did," said Leo, now thoroughly angry. "I wondered myself
at the time, and I mentioned to Sybil how inconvenient it was. I asked
Hale for notes, for a cheque, he refused both, and said I must take the
money as he chose to give it, or not at all. He gave it to me in three
bags, each containing a hundred sovereigns. I paid that into my London
bank."
"Oh, I daresay you did," sneered Mrs Gabriel. "But you should have got a
better price for the cup."
"You still believe me guilty," cried Leo, recoiling.
"I do. Hale denies that he paid you the money."
"I shall see him about it to-morrow," said Leo. "He will not dare to
deny what is the truth. And I leave the castle this very night, Mrs
Gabriel. I shall never call you 'mother' again. You are cruel and
wicked. Tell me why you hate me so."
Mrs Gabriel's eyes flashed. "If I told you that--" she began, then
closed her mouth and turned away.
"Then you _do_ hate me?"
"Yes. With all my soul!" She turned on him like a fury. "I have hated
you from the moment you came into my house. All these years I have been
on the point of turning you out. Go now, and never darken my doors
again. I was a fool to have anything to do with you. Go! Go!"
For a moment Leo stood bewildered at her furious speech. He thought she
was mad, for he could not conceive why she should speak so. It was
useless to talk or to remonstrate, or to seek an explanation. He looked
at her for a moment, then, without a word, he walked away. In another
quarter of an hour he had left the castle, bag and baggage.
"Thank God!" cried Mrs Gabriel when alone. "I am rid of him at last!"