JANET'S DISCOVERY
On leaving Goethe Cottage, Ellis jumped on his bicycle, and was soon
spinning along the country roads which connected rural Parkmere with
the more urban suburb of Dukesfield. Usually Ellis enjoyed the
exhilaration of riding and the pleasure of admiring the scenery; but
on this occasion, beyond the necessary guidance of his machine, he was
preoccupied. It seemed strange to him that Garret should so strongly
object to Janet as a companion for his daughter. The Captain was a
supremely selfish man, as selfish in every way as Zirknitz, and more
vicious. He was indifferent to his daughter, save that he looked upon
her as a necessary link to bind him to Schwartz. Schwartz was clever
and generous, and devoted to Hilda; he had plenty of money, and
Garret, the idle and dissipated, could not do without him. For the
furtherance of his plans, he usually let Schwartz manage Hilda, and
Hilda's business, as he pleased. It was, therefore, surprising that he
should have taken so unusual a step as to object to Miss Gordon.
"Garret and Schwartz can have nothing to do with the murder!" mused
Ellis; "they knew Moxton only slightly, and they had no motive to get
rid of him. Indeed, his untimely death has lost Schwartz a good
customer to his gambling table, if that exists, as is reported; at
any-rate, an assiduous attendant at his music-hall. Garret was anxious
on Schwartz's account, hence he warned him not to have Janet in the
house. He thinks she is too clever; perhaps he fancies she may learn
too much. I am too fanciful--too suspicious. Yet Garret certainly
mentioned the murder. What is best to be done? Janet must go to Goethe
Cottage to keep Hilda cheerful; but shall I tell her of the
objections--or this discussion? No, I will not bias her in any way. If
there is anything to be found out, she shall discover it herself."
To this wise determination Ellis adhered. On seeing Janet that
evening, he merely informed her that Hilda was mopish, and that he
wished her to cheer the girl. Janet readily consented to this.
"I am very fond of Hilda," she said earnestly; "and you may be sure I
shall do what I can. Does Mr. Schwartz want me to come?"
"Very much. Tell me, Miss Gordon, what is your opinion of him?"
"I think he is a good man, doctor. Several times I have been under the
necessity of testing his kindness of heart, and it has never failed
me. Then look how good he is to poor Hilda. If she depended upon that
selfish father of hers, how wretched she would be."
"Yet she appears to be more attached to her father than to Schwartz."
"I daresay," said Janet, somewhat cynically; "it is that frame of mind
which created the proverb about virtue being its own reward. People
who do most are thought least of, and it is your selfish person who
gets all the love and the praise. Look at my own case. All my life I
have put myself aside for Rudolph and Laura; yet they think nothing of
me."
"They say they do."
"Mere lip-service!" exclaimed Miss Gordon; "they would not do me a
good turn however little trouble it might be. Laura is grateful to me
now, because she is yet in danger, and I stand by her; but when all is
well, she will think nothing of my services. As for Rudolph, he would
borrow my last sixpence, and see me dying of starvation without
returning so much as a single penny. Oh, I am under no disillusion
about my own folk, doctor! What I do, I do from a sense of duty."
"With regard to your sister I can say nothing, Miss Gordon, as I do
not know her sufficiently well; but Zirknitz--well, he is a thoroughly
bad lot, and would sell his nearest and dearest at a price."
Janet demurred. "I cannot believe that he is so wicked as that!"
"But he is, and he proved it to me only the other day. He told Busham
all about your impersonation of Mrs. Moxton; betrayed all your schemes
and plans while you were fighting single-handed against overwhelming
odds; and this because Busham paid him. Now, thinking Mrs. Moxton will
recover her husband's fortune--for I told him that the real will still
existed--he has betrayed all Busham's secret doings to me. What do you
think of him now?"
"He is a scoundrel! I will never speak to him again. Oh, doctor, if
you only knew what I have done for that man. I knew he was heartless
and selfish, but I did not think he was wicked."
"Heartlessness and selfishness usually terminate in wickedness," said
Ellis, sententiously. "However, one good result has come out of his
evil ways. I have learnt all about Mr. Busham's intrigues, and I have
given him a few days to own up."
"That he killed Edgar?" asked Janet, breathlessly.
"No, he did not kill him--at least, I don't think so. But I have
insisted upon his revealing the name of the assassin, as I am certain
he knows it. In another three days he must tell the truth, or I shall
place the matter in the hands of the police."
"Oh! but, Laura; she will be arrested."
"No! I do this to save her from arrest. Busham knows nothing about the
false will, because I do not wish to drive him into a corner by
telling him how he has been tricked. But he might learn the truth from
Zirknitz, to whom it had to be told, that I might learn his true
attitude in this matter. If he does learn it he will have Mrs. Moxton
arrested. Only by a threat against himself could I keep him in hand."
"What do you think he will do?"
"Ah! that I can't say. I know much, but not all; and the smallest
amount of ignorance in any matter is a bar to giving a reasonable
opinion on it. However, Time works for me, and I shall be able to
defend Mrs. Moxton from her enemies. Go to Goethe Cottage, Miss
Gordon, and cheer Hilda."
"Do you think you can give her back her sight?"
"Perhaps! It is a difficult case. I shall have to make another
examination before I can arrive at any conclusion. In the meantime, I
wish her to be lively and gay; so you must realise that wish."
"Alas!" said Janet, with a melancholy smile, "I have too much
experience of the world to be gay. However, I will do my best."
It will be seen from this last observation that Janet was rapidly
coming under the influence of Ellis. She was a clever woman, and, in
her own way, masterful; therefore, on finding someone stronger than
herself, she was prepared to obey him. This sounds paradoxical, but it
is so, especially in the relations of sex. A woman must always succumb
to a man, if he be a man; obedience is in the feminine blood,
notwithstanding the New Woman. Janet knew from experience that Ellis
was kind and generous, and was willing to help to the extent of his
powers those in whom he believed; now his duel with Busham--no mean
adversary--had given her an impression of his strength. Moreover, she
loved him, and perhaps this was why she obeyed him without a struggle.
She felt the happier for such obedience, although it was new to her.
When a woman finds her master in an honourable, generous, kindly man,
her happiness is assured.
Therefore, Janet went to Goethe Cottage, and was welcomed by Hilda
with enthusiasm. The girl was fond of her, and loved to be in such
pleasant company. Warned by Schwartz, Janet was careful to avoid the
theme of the murder, and indulged Hilda in the light gossip of the
day, culled from society papers. She talked of literature to the girl,
and read aloud to her; she played and sang, and made herself agreeable
in all ways, so that Hilda became merry and happy in spite of her
blindness. On the occasion of Janet's first visit, Captain Garret hung
about in a nervous manner, as though he expected some catastrophe to
occur. But as the sole result of Janet's presence was to make Hilda
laugh, the Captain did not appear when she called again the next day.
What he dreaded, Janet could not conjecture.
The second visit was merely a repetition of the first, but had in the
end a far-reaching result. Hilda chattered, and sang, and talked to
her birds, and fluttered about the room like a bird herself. She never
made a mistake, she never stumbled or hesitated; the limits of the
apartment, the disposition of the furniture, were known to her as well
as though she had eyesight. Janet, watching her gyrations, could not
forbear making a remark to that effect.
"Upon my word, Hilda, one would think you had eyes!"
"Oh, I know this room and my bedroom so well," chattered the blind
girl. "I have been here for nearly two years, you know. But the rest
of the house is like the centre of Africa to me." She paused, with a
childish smile, and clapped her hands. "Let us go over it," she said.
"Certainly, if you wish. But what good will that do?"
"I want to know how the rooms are furnished. You shall take my hand,
and lead me through them, describing everything that you see. Then I
shall astonish Papa Schwartz and my father when they come home."
"I suppose they will have no objection?" said Janet, hesitating.
"Of course not. Papa Schwartz said that I could go anywhere so long as
a friend was with me. I stay in this room because I know it from
experience; and I might go wrong did I leave it. But I am not afraid
to explore the house with you, dear Janet. You shall be my eyes. Come,
let us start on our expedition."
Seeing no harm in this innocent proposal, Janet assented to it as a
means of amusing Hilda. Hand in hand the two girls walked into the
drawing-room, which Janet described in all its hideous colouring.
Hilda was shocked.
"Magenta and scarlet," she said; "it sounds dreadful!"
"But you know nothing of colours, Hilda!"
"No, but my dressmaker does. And she said that magenta and scarlet
were ugly. I can't imagine them myself. She saw the drawing-room, and
I merely re-echoed her opinion. What is scarlet like, Janet?"
"It is a bright red."
"But what is red like?"
Janet was puzzled. She did not know how to describe the colour to one
who had no conception of tint. "Red is--red," she said at length. "I
can say no more. Let us go into the dining-room, Hilda."
The _salon_ proved to be less glaring than the drawing-room, being
papered and curtained and upholstered in dark green. The windows were
few and filled with stained glass, so that the general effect was
gloomy. In spite of her blindness, Hilda felt this.
"I don't like this room, it is dark," she said abruptly. "Come away,
Janet."
"How do you know it is dark?" questioned Janet, as they went out.
"I cannot say. I feel happy in my own sitting-room, because I know it
is bright; but here I feel wretched. I can give you no reason. But is
it not curious, Janet? I can always tell dark stuff from light. I get
a pain in my fingers when I touch anything black."
"Nonsense, Hilda!"
"Well, I can't describe my feelings any better to you. One has to be
blind to understand these things. Where are we now, Janet?"
"In Mr. Schwartz's study. It is decorated in dark red."
"Dark again!" Hilda shuddered. "I don't like dark. Where is the desk?"
"Just before the window, where the light falls strongest."
"Lead me to it, Janet."
Janet obeyed, and Hilda ran her fingers along the top of the desk.
Then she made a discovery. "Papa has left his keys," she cried. "Now,
I shall open all the drawers and take away the keys, just to punish
him for being careless."
"Oh, Hilda, don't do that. He might not like it."
"Yes, he will. Papa Schwartz is never angry at what I do."
"The more reason not to abuse his kindness."
"How severe you are!" cried Hilda, with a pout. "Well, I shall leave
the keys, but I shall open the drawers. After all, Janet, as I am
blind I cannot see his secrets."
Janet laughed, but as what Hilda said was true, she made no further
opposition. While the blind girl was opening the drawers one after the
other, Janet walked to the other end of the room to look at some
pictures. She was recalled by a joyous laugh from Hilda, and returned
to find all the drawers open. Janet took the keys from her with gentle
force.
"My dear, Mr. Schwartz will not be pleased. We must close these
again."
"Oh, very well," said Hilda, carelessly. "I was only joking. Close
them again, Janet."
This Miss Gordon was already doing. She closed and locked the top
drawers without looking much at their contents. In the bottom
right-hand drawer, however, she made a discovery which amazed her. On
the top of other articles she saw the red pocket-book.