THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS.
"Do you still wish me to go?" inquired Gerald politely, and half
opening the sitting-room door.
"No," cried Rebb sharply. "Shut that door again and explain yourself."
Haskins returned to his seat. "Does what I say need explanation?"
"Certainly. You insinuate that my income has to do with Mavis."
"You place the matter in a nutshell, Major. It has."
Rebb rose again, with the look of a man at bay. "You dare to----"
"I dare anything in the cause of Mavis," interrupted Gerald
imperiously. "Don't make any mistake about my attitude, Major Rebb. If
you act honestly, I am here as your friend; but if you declare war I
am willing to accept your challenge."
If a look could have slain the bold speaker, Haskins would have
dropped dead where he stood; but he bore Rebb's fierce gaze without
flinching, and waited for him to speak. The Major made a gigantic
effort, and gained control of himself sufficiently to open his mouth
for a quiet question. "Where did you learn this?" he demanded.
"From the will of Captain Julian Durham at Somerset House."
"Indeed! More spying!" sneered the other, but his lip quivered.
Haskins shrugged his shoulders, and took scarcely any notice of the
insult. "That is a weak speech to make," he remarked.
Rebb passed a handkerchief across his pale lips. "Who told you about
the will?" he asked quietly.
"It was more an intuition than anything else," said Haskins, anxious
to shield Mrs. Geary, whose chance words had put him on the track. "I
saw that Mavis was sane, and that you were shutting her up for some
reason. Money was the reason that suggested itself."
"And you searched in Somerset House?"
"Not personally. Macandrew did that, as my lawyer."
"Great heavens!" stormed Rebb, growing darkly red, "is Macandrew in
this affair also? Will you tell me, Mr. Haskins, how many people you
have succeeded in interesting in my private business?"
"Only Tod and myself know about the matter so far--I refer to the
will, of course. But others may come to know of it, unless----"
"Ah," said Rebb quickly, "now we are coming to the gist of the matter,
Mr. Haskins. Unless what?"
"Unless you give Mavis her proper position in the world----"
"And consent to your marriage with her, I suppose?"
Haskins bowed. "You save me the trouble of an explanation."
"There is another explanation to be made," said Rebb, trying to appear
calm, "and one that in justice to myself I must make. The will----"
"Pardon me," interrupted Gerald coolly, "but Mrs. Jennings knows all
about your ward's alleged insanity."
"Her true insanity," cried Rebb warmly, "everyone in Denleigh and
Silbury and Leegarth knows about the poor girl, and that she is
watched by Bellaria Dondi."
"Your useful, elderly relative. Just so. And does all the neighborhood
know about Julian Durham's will?"
"Anyone who goes to Somerset House can learn what he wishes, as you
have done," retorted the Major. "I am not bound to make my private
affairs public down here. You apparently are trying to do your best to
provide gossip for the neighborhood."
"Well, yes. I mean to get Mavis out of the Pixy's House."
Rebb jumped up and banged on the table furiously. "I defy you. Yes, I
defy you," he almost shouted, "and you shall not get her out of that
house. She is well treated, and----"
"One moment. I never said that she was not well treated," said Gerald
swiftly, "but, badly as you are behaving, I presume your conscience
does not allow you to ill-treat Mavis, seeing that you are enjoying
her fortune."
"Take care! Take care! I may strike you."
"By all means. It will give me the chance to take you into court for
assault and make the matter of the Pixy's House public."
"Ah," Rebb looked scathingly at the bold speaker, "you are afraid."
"Oh no. If you strike me, I shall probably give you a good thrashing,
which, to my mind, you richly deserve. In an ordinary case I would
thrash you and let you go: but my desire is to force you into taking
up a public position of defence."
"I am quite willing to do so," said Rebb violently, "you can employ
Macandrew or any lawyer you like. The will is in my favor, and I have
carried out its provisions."
"Pardon me, but that is just what you have not done. Mavis, by the
will, was to be educated. She can neither read nor write."
"The doctor said----"
"Produce your doctor who said that her brain could not understand, or
could not bear teaching. It is no use, Major. Whatever you may say
about Mavis, to suit your own ends, you are well aware that she is
perfectly sane, and that you are keeping her shut up in the Pixy's
House to enjoy her money."
"You dare--you dare----"
"I dare now, and I shall dare in open court," retorted the young man.
"I wonder I don't kill you," muttered Rebb, in impotent fury.
"In the first place you can't; in the second, if you did you would
only be tried for murder instead of conspiracy."
"Conspiracy? Conspiracy, damn you?"
"Yes, against the liberty of a subject."
Rebb had proved himself to be a brave man in several South African
engagements, so it was not fear that prevented him from falling upon
the man who thus defied him and meddled with his most private affairs.
But with all his fury--and he could scarcely articulate for rage--he
was sufficiently master of himself to know that to strike Haskins
would only force him into open court. Rebb had no wish that the will
of Durham and his guardianship of Mavis should be a topic of
conversation with his friends, or appear in print for the delectation
of the public. He therefore kept his hands down by his sides, and
subdued his wrath, as best he could. But the effort nearly choked him.
"You have said all that you can say, Mr. Haskins," he growled, in a
guttural voice filled with menace, "so you can go."
"Certainly," rejoined Gerald again. "And your attitude?"
"I stand by the will of my brother officer," said Rebb, with
suppressed fury, "I enjoy the Durham property until Mavis marries. She
is not fit to marry, being insane, therefore----"
"You will enjoy the Durham property until the end of your life."
"Yes!" said Rebb determinedly, "I do hold to that. Mavis has all she
wants and is happy where she is."
"Because you have filled her mind with lying tales of English girls
all being brought up in seclusion as she is being brought up. But on
Mavis' twenty-first birthday, Rebb, when she hopes to come out into
the world? What then? How will you restrain her? Will she be happy
then?"
"I am not bound to tell you of my plans regarding my ward," said the
Major stiffly, "on her twenty-first birthday I shall know how to act."
"Good-night!" said Gerald abruptly, and made for the door.
"Stop," cried Rebb imperatively. "What about _your_ attitude?"
Haskins wheeled at the door. "I love Mavis, and I intend to make her
my wife. That is my attitude."
"I see," sneered the Major; "you are after her money."
The insult was too contemptible to be noticed. "Think what you like,
Major, only remember one thing. If you harm Mavis in any way, or
transfer her to another hiding-place, I shall hold you accountable."
"In what way?" questioned the other contemptuously.
"I shall find some relative of Mavis, and get him or her to contest
the will. That will bring everything out."
"Very probably, but Mavis has no relative. Julian Durham was the last
of his race, and so, since his wife was dead, left his child for me to
look after. Had he or she any relative I should not have been
appointed guardian. I stand by the will. Good-night."
Gerald hesitated, and wondered whether he would say anything more, but
on second thoughts he decided to hold his peace, and abruptly left the
room. After all, there was no more to be arranged. He knew the
attitude which Rebb had taken up, and Rebb knew his attitude. It only
remained to fight for possession of the girl.
As Haskins walked back to Silbury, in the rapidly gathering darkness,
he admitted that Rebb's position was a strong one. Mavis was perfectly
happy, and had all she wanted. The loss of liberty did not trouble
her, since she had the spacious grounds of the Pixy's House for a
playground, and, moreover, thought that all English girls were brought
up in the same way. Had she known that this was a lie she might have
fretted after liberty, and then there would have been some ground to
go upon. But were she taken into court she could not deny but that her
guardian had been kind, and had given her all she required. This
reasoning was all in favor of Rebb.
Then again, since Rebb swore that Mavis was insane, he was quite
justified in shutting her up, so long as she was treated kindly.
Certainly could she be proved to be sane, his position would then be a
very awkward one, as it would force him to explain why he had used the
girl's money all these years, while keeping her in durance vile. But,
as Tod had said and Gerald had echoed, "much could be done with
money," and if things came to be made public Rebb might be able to
bribe a couple of doctors to certify to Mavis' insanity. In that case
she would be shut up in a public asylum, and Rebb--after setting aside
a certain sum for her maintenance--would enjoy the Durham income for
the rest of his wicked life. The plot was very cunningly arranged, and
in standing by the will Rebb took up an almost unassailable position.
Many another man would have been daunted by the difficulties thus
presented by a survey of the position. But Gerald was in love, and to
a lover nothing is impossible that stands in the way of his gaining
his mistress. Haskins did not know for the moment exactly how to act,
but in one way or another he determined to force Rebb's strong hand.
By warning Rebb he had certainly put him on his guard against any
possible elopement: but he also had forced him to behave in a more or
less straightforward manner. Knowing that he was watched the Major
could not smuggle Mavis into another hiding-place.
During the conversation Gerald had intended to mention Bellaria's
dread of the coral hand, so that he might learn if it was really the
Tána Society that she feared. But the chances were that Rebb would not
have told him, and moreover the introduction of a new subject might
have complicated matters. Haskins therefore congratulated himself that
he had kept silence. Also, for the moment, it was unnecessary to draw
Rebb's attention to the wonderful likeness between Charity and Mavis.
Doubtless Rebb was well aware of it, and it was more than likely that
Rebb could explain it. Still, bearing in mind Mrs. Pelham Odin's offer
to pass off Mavis as Charity, should it be necessary, Gerald resolved
to hold his peace. At one moment he was inclined to storm the Pixy's
House secretly and elope with Mavis, hiding her, as above, under the
name of Charity, who would then be out of the way as Mrs. Macandrew.
But Rebb would know who had taken Mavis away, and--standing by the
will, which gave him the guardianship of Mavis until she was
twenty-one--would make dire trouble. Gerald did not wish to be arrested,
as he could do little good for Mavis if imprisoned.
It only remained then to return to London and to see Tod. In one way
or another some start could be made towards extricating Mavis from the
clutches of her guardian; and when the start was made the desired end
would be reached sooner or later. Gerald therefore determined to leave
Silbury next morning, and to begin his campaign forthwith, assisted by
Tod. He felt very reluctant to leave the neighborhood without seeing
Mavis, but he was forced to. Bellaria would now be on her guard, if he
attempted to climb the wall. And Gerald was very certain that Geary
had been sent to watch the Pixy's House by his precious master.
Haskins had a revolver, as opposed to the yellow-handled knife about
which Mavis had talked, so he did not fear the encounter. But an open
struggle would only damage the position of Mavis, and impede any plans
made for her rescue. Knowing that Rebb had the will, and swore to the
reported insanity of Mavis to strengthen his attitude, Gerald was
extremely anxious to move cautiously. In sheer desperation Major Rebb
might call in the assistance of the law. Much as Haskins wished to
force the man's hand, he did not want to do so by placing himself in
the wrong. To take Mavis from the guardianship of a man appointed by
her father's will, would be a disobedience to the law of which Rebb
would take full advantage.
As the night was warm, Gerald, having plenty of time, did not hurry
himself. There was no moon, and the stars were covered with dun-hued
clouds. Very little light, therefore, came from above. Nevertheless,
the night was not entirely dark, as a faint luminous radiance was
everywhere spread, and he could pick his way along the highroad
very easily. Although, following Tod's advice, he had his revolver
in his hip-pocket, he never thought that it would be necessary to
use it. Major Rebb, as a civilized being, had refrained from actual
violence, much as he apparently desired to use it. But then, he
would only have taken to his fists. It was far otherwise with
Geary. That semi-civilized savage would undoubtedly have taken to
his yellow-handled knife.
In the usual way in which intuitions came to Haskins, the thought of
this knife unexpectedly flashed into his mind when he topped the last
rise of the hills. Already he could see the glimmer of the Silbury
lights, and paused a moment to watch them, shining like stars under
the muggy canopy of the heavy sky. But the knife-thought remained, and
he turned his head uneasily from side to side, scenting danger, by his
sixth sense. The feeling passed, and then came again stronger than
ever when he began to walk on once more. He glanced back, and then
swerved to one side, just in time to avoid the rush of a big black
form which hurled itself out of the shadows. It was Geary, who dashed
towards him, missed, wheeled, and flung himself again on the young
man.
Haskins had walked to Denleigh in his flannels, as the evening was so
close, so he was a sufficiently easy mark in the semi-darkness,
showing whitely like a negative against the gloom. Geary clutched him
in his powerful arms before he could swerve again, or draw his
revolver, and then Gerald realized with a shock of surprise that, save
for a pair of dungaree trousers, the man was naked. Not only that, but
the upper part of his body had been rubbed with oil, and he slipped
about like an eel. Geary made no remark, nor did Gerald speak, but the
two men, the one big and burly, the other lithe and wiry, wrestled
together for mastery. Haskins believed that Geary wished to get him
down and stab him, but could not see if he held a knife. He certainly
did not in his huge hands, but he might have had it strapped, sailor
fashion, in the small of his back.
Without a word the two men swung and swayed, Geary wriggling and
pressing Gerald downward with his great weight. But Haskins had lately
taken lessons in jiu-jutsu, of which the negro was apparently
ignorant; so he suddenly gave way, with an unexpected relaxing of all
the muscles. Geary uttered a guttural ejaculation of anger and
surprise as he felt the looseness of the young man's body and found a
moment afterwards that his big arms were empty. By making himself
small, so to speak, Gerald had slipped out of the negro's grip, and
darted back with lightning speed. When Geary swung round again to the
assault he found himself facing a revolver.
Nothing daunted, his hand slipped round to the back of his dungaree
trousers, and a moment later Gerald saw the steel glitter in the dim
light, as Geary rushed forward with uplifted hand. Haskins did not
wish to kill the man, as he was a necessary witness to save Mavis, so
he winged him. The bullet struck the negro's right arm, and the knife
dropped, as he howled viciously. Apparently dreading another shot, he
sprang aside and then backward, and vanished. For some minutes Gerald
heard the pad-pad-pad of his bare feet on the highway, and became
aware then, for the first time, that he had escaped a great danger.
Picking up the knife, he replaced his revolver in his hip-pocket and
walked swiftly towards Silbury, wondering if Rebb had sent the man to
kill him. If so, Geary had failed, and as there was no chance of
another attempt being made on that night Gerald did not trouble
himself on the way to the town. He swiftly resolved to say nothing of
his adventure, especially as any publicity might lead to revelations
being made at the moment, while Mavis' fate swung in the balance. But
later Gerald determined to bring Geary to justice. He had the evidence
of the knife. At the first street lamp he stopped and looked at the
weapon. It was a dangerous piece of steel--a bowie knife, but the
handle was of black wood. What then had become of the yellow-handled
knife which Mavis feared so greatly? Gerald was too weary, and ached
too much with his late struggle, to think over this problem. He
therefore postponed all consideration until next morning.
On reaching the Prince's Head he sat down to an excellent meal, and
held his peace about his adventures. After dinner he drank some coffee
and smoked a couple of pipes. Then he went to bed about ten o'clock,
or a trifle later. Shortly, in spite of the late excitement, he fell
asleep.
When he awoke it was nine o'clock in the morning. Feeling somewhat
bruised and stiff--for Geary's grasp was like that of an octopus--he
decided to remain in bed, instead of taking the morning train to
London. The afternoon train would do, he decided, so he rang for his
breakfast to be served, intending to rise at midday. The chambermaid
took his orders for breakfast, and seemed to be flustered, but before
he could make inquiries she ran out of the room.
Later, Mrs. Jennings herself arrived with the breakfast-tray, and
looked excited as she placed it on the bed.
"Oh, Mr. Haskins," she cried, with shining eyes, "such terrible news.
That mad girl at the Pixy's House has murdered Miss Bellaria, and has
bolted."
"It is impossible," gasped Haskins, starting up in bed.
"The milkman from Leegarth has just brought the news, sir."