CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE
In front of the veranda, and to the right of the brick walk, the
latticework of a small summerhouse could be discerned through a maze of
shrubbery and weeds. No path led toward it, yet we made the difficult
passage, by pressing aside the foliage, and discovered a rustic seat
within, where we were completely screened from observation. I felt the
slight trembling of the woman's form from suppressed excitement, but
the adventure with Coombs had only served to stiffen my nerves. With
flushed cheeks, and eyes bright and questioning, she could scarcely
wait for me to begin.
"Now tell me; surely we are out of sight and hearing."
"I do not think I shall ever be entirely assured as to that until I
know more of our exact situation," I replied, speaking cautiously. "We
may have been seen coming here, and those weeds would easily conceal an
eavesdropper. The truth is, I have gained very little information of
value, and am as mystified as ever. If that fellow told the truth it
is beyond my understanding."
"But you are sure he knows nothing of those men who sent you here?"
"Yes, he had never heard of Vail, and all he knew about Neale was that
name was signed to the orders of the new overseer."
"Under what authority is the man acting?"
I hesitated, not venturing to look at her, conscious of a personal
feeling which I must conceal.
"Do you not wish to tell me?"
"It is not that," I hastened to explain, but finding the words hard to
speak. "I think he lied, and yet cannot be sure. He claims to be
working under the orders of Philip Henley."
"What! Impossible!"
"So I felt, and consequently hesitated to tell you, but now that I have
been compelled to do so, I will explain in full. He said this under
the menace of a revolver, a condition which often inspires men to speak
the truth. I can scarcely imagine his making up such a story, for he
is a dull-witted fellow, and even before he had threatened to test your
claims to be Henley's wife."
"You told him, then?"
"Everything, except the original cause of our being here. I determined
this morning to fight in the open, under my own name. That is the
right way, is it not?"
"Yes, I think so," and she lifted her eyes to mine.
"I like you better for that."
"I think I like myself better also," I said with a laugh. "I confess I
did n't care much at first. The whole affair merely represented a
lark, an adventure with me. But after what you said the night of our
arrival I began to view the thing in a new light, and to despise my
part in It. Yet even then I felt bound to carry out my agreement. It
was only when you told me your identity, that I felt free to decide
otherwise."
"Why should that make such a difference? If I had not been the one,
then it would have been some other woman defrauded."
"True, but a mere unknown, a shadow. Besides, I had no reason
previously to know that a fraud was contemplated--those rascals told a
most plausible story, leaving me to believe I served the real heirs.
Now I comprehend their true purpose and--and, well, knowing you it has
become personal."
"I do not altogether understand."
"Why, it is simply this," I went on desperately, "I want to serve you,
and I want you to respect me. Down in your heart you have n't really
been assured that I was not one of that gang of conspirators. You came
down here to watch me. Now I am going to stand up as Gordon Craig, and
fight it out for you."
There was a knot of blue ribbon at her throat, and I reached out and
unpinned it before she had time to protest.
"See, there are your colors, and I do battle under them. Whatever the
final results you are never going to doubt me any more--are you?"
Her eyes were veiled by long lashes, and I could see the heaving of her
breasts.
"No--no. I scarcely think I ever did doubt you, only it was all very
strange. Nothing seemed real; it was more like a stage-play in which I
acted a part--our first meeting, our being thrown together on this
quest. I have not known what to think, even of myself."
"We are both getting our heads above the mist now," I interrupted
gently, "and deep as the mystery appears, when finally solved it will
likely prove a very sordid, commonplace affair. The main thing is for
us to thoroughly understand and trust each other."
"You need not doubt me."
"I have already learned that. It is more important that you fully
trust me."
"I do," and both her hands were impulsively extended. "I have from the
very first. I did not come here to watch, but because I believed in
you. Truly this was my motive rather than any thought of the property.
Indeed I hardly realized at the start that this was my affair; I merely
had a feeling that you needed me. That--that morning on the bench,"
she paused, her voice choking in her throat, her eyes misted, "why,
I--I was scarcely rational; my mind could not even grasp clearly what
you endeavored to tell. I was so far from being myself that I failed
to recognize my own name. Perhaps that was not strange as I always
lived under another. So it was not that, not any selfish motive, which
impelled me to accompany you. I came because--because I knew you
needed me. I had an intuition that you were going into danger, into
some trap. I cannot explain, no woman can, how such knowledge lays
hold upon her. I merely acted instinctively. It was not until that
afternoon that I realized clearly what this all meant to me personally.
I seemed to wake up as from a dream. Then I sat down in the rest room
of one of those big department stores, and thought it all out. At
first I determined to tell you everything, but I did--did not know you
at all. I trusted you, I believed in you; you had impressed me as
being a real man. But this was merely a woman's intuition. There were
circumstances that made me doubt, that compelled caution. I--I had to
test you, Gordon Craig."
"My only wonder is that you retained any confidence."
"Oh, but I did," she insisted warmly. "That alone brought me here. I
thought of appealing to a lawyer, to the police, and then your face
rose up before me, and my decision was made. I came back to you that
night because--because I believed you to be a gentleman."
"And now? henceforth?"
Her eyes never wavered, although there was a high color in her cheeks
as my hands clasped her own more closely.
"I am convinced I chose aright. You are the man I thought you to be.
I am glad I came."
For an instant the hot blood coursed through my veins; I seemed to see
only the beauty of her flesh. Wild words leaped to my lips, only to be
choked back unspoken, although I scarcely knew what strength combined
to win the swift struggle. Impulse, made with sudden revelation of
love, swept me perilously near to outburst, yet reason held
sufficiently firm to restrain; the flood of passion. I knew I must
refrain; I read it in the calm depths of those eyes fronting me in
frank friendship. A word, a single, mad, ill-considered word, would
sever the bond between us as though cleft by a sword. With any other I
might have dared all, but not with her. Reckless as my nature had
grown in the hard school of life, I shrank from this test, dreading to
see her face change, her attitude harden. And it would; there had
already been sufficient revealment of her character to make me aware of
how firm a line she drew between right and wrong. It was not in her
nature to compromise. She trusted, me--yes! But as a "gentleman."
Should I fail in that test of her faith I could never again hope to
regain my place in her esteem. I have wondered since how I ever won
that swift, deadly battle; how I ever crushed back the wild passion,
the mad impulse to clasp her In my arms. Yet, under God's mercy I did,
my voice emotionless, my face white from restraint, my lips dry as with
fever. The one thing I was sure about just then was that we must break
away from this personal conversation; flesh and blood could stand the
strain no longer.
"Let's not talk of ourselves then," I said, releasing her hands, "but
of what we must face here. We trust each other; that is enough for the
present surely. You will not leave, and let me ferret out the mystery
alone, so we must work together in its solution. I have told you that
Coombs claims to be working under the orders of your husband. Is that
possible?"
"I cannot conceive clearly how it could be, and yet he might have
received notice of his father's death in time to assume control of the
estate by telegraph, or even by letter."
"I hardly think Coombs has been here so short a time."
"He might have been the old overseer, however, and retained."
"True; yet how could Philip Henley know that he had inherited the
property?"
She thought a moment seriously, a little crease in the center of her
forehead.
"Of course, I can only guess," she hazarded at length, "but it would
seem likely he was notified of his father's death by one of the
administrators, and doubtless told at the same time of his inheritance.
He was the only son, and there were no other near relatives. It would
be only natural for him to retain the old servants until he could come
here and select others."
"There is only one fact which opposes your theory," I acknowledged,
"otherwise I would accept it as my own also. Coombs plainly threatened
to confront you with Henley to test your claim to being his wife."
She pressed her hand to her temple in perplexity.
"Even that would not be impossible," she admitted reluctantly, "for he
must have known of the Judge's death even before--before I left. Only
I do not believe it probable, as he was in no condition to travel, and
had very little money. Besides," her voice strengthening with
conviction, "those men who sent you here--Neale and Vail--would never
have ventured such a scheme, had they been uncertain as to Philip
Henley's helplessness. I believe he is either in their control, or
else dead."
"Then Coombs lied."
"Perhaps; although still another supposition is possible. Someone else
may claim to be the heir."
This was a new theory, and one not so unreasonable as it appeared at
first thought. Still it was sufficiently improbable, so that I
dismissed it without much consideration. She apparently read this in
my face.
"It is all groping in the dark until we learn more," she went on
slowly. "Have you decided what you mean to do?"
"Only indefinitely. I want to make a careful exploration of the house
and grounds by daylight. This may reveal something of value. Then we
will go into Carrollton before dark. I cannot consent to your
remaining here another night after what has occurred. Besides, we
should consult a lawyer--the best we can find--and then proceed under
his advice. Do you agree?"
"Certainly; and how can I be of assistance?"
"If you could go back to the house, and keep Sallie busy in the kitchen
for an hour; hold her there at something so as to give me free range of
the house."
"With Sallie!" she lifted her hands in aversion. "It does n't seem as
though I could stand that. But," she added, rising resolutely to her
feet, "I will if you wish it. Of course I ought to do what little I
can. Why, what is this? a seal ring?"
She stooped, and picked the article up from the floor, out of a litter
of dead leaves, and held it to the light between her fingers. As she
gazed her cheeks whitened, and when her eyes again met mine they
evidenced fear.
"What is it?" I asked, when she failed to speak. "Do you recognize it?"
She held it out toward me, her hand trembling.
"That--that was Philip Henley's ring," she said gravely. "Family
heirloom; he always wore it."