A CONFESSION.
The glass skimmed past Haskins' head, and smashed against the
wainscoting. By this time both men were on their feet; Rebb glaring
and furious, but Gerald perfectly calm. A few drops of the claret had
sprinkled his face, and he wiped these off quietly. "There is nothing
to be gained by your losing your temper, Rebb," he remarked.
"Don't tell me what to do or what not to do," raged the Major,
striding towards the door, which he locked. "You are in my power
here."
Haskins sat down again with a contemptuous laugh. "So much so that, if
you opened that door to let me out, I should refuse to go. Don't be a
fool, Rebb. One would think you were a melodramatic actor. Do you
think that I am afraid of you or of a dozen like you? Sit down and let
us talk quietly over the matter."
Rebb walked forward, and flung himself into a chair, gnawing his
moustache, somewhat taken aback by Haskins' aplomb. Usually, when he
asserted his undeniably strong will, his opponents sat down and
obeyed. But the Major recognized readily enough that he had a
determined man to deal with, and, moreover, knew that he could not get
the better of him by treachery, since the Silbury police were aware of
Haskins' whereabouts. The Pixy's House already had an unpleasant
reputation, and Rebb did not wish an inexplicable disappearance to
take place there. He would willingly have got rid of this man, who so
persistently crossed his path, but the risk was too great. And as man
to man, Gerald was more than able to hold his own. Rebb was no fool,
and, for the moment, he mentally confessed himself beaten.
"I ask your pardon for losing my temper," he said, wiping his
forehead, "but no man can sit quietly and hear himself accused of
woman murder."
"Defend yourself then," said Gerald, relighting his pipe, which had
gone out during the episode.
"There is no need for me to make a defence," snarled the other.
"I think there is. Geary may hold his tongue, since he appears to be
devoted to you, but his wife, having left her husband, will certainly
speak out."
"What can she say?" asked Rebb, taking another glass of claret.
"That you went to this place on the night, and about the time, of the
murder. You went away some time after I left, and did not return until
two in the morning."
Major Rebb sat moodily looking at the tips of his slippers. He saw
well that Gerald was right, and if the young man--as he probably
would--supported Mrs. Geary in making trouble, very unpleasant
questions might be asked. "Why the devil do you interfere in my
business?" he asked, between his teeth.
"Because I love Mavis Durham."
"She is dead."
"You can't be sure of that."
"Then you know!" cried the Major, starting to his feet.
"Now how should I know anything when you have exonerated me from
complicity in her flight?" argued Gerald, dexterously skirting the
subject. "If I had run away with Mavis she would be my wife by this
time."
"And would have passed her honeymoon in prison?" growled Rebb, quite
convinced by Gerald's quiet tone.
"I think not. I should have fought for my wife. And I intend to search
for her and fight for her still."
"You'll never find her. If she were alive she would have been captured
long ago."
"Ah, it would please you, no doubt, to see her hanged."
"No! on my soul, no!" cried the Major, beginning to walk to and fro,
"I only want to see her happy. She was happy here," he added, as
Gerald laughed unpleasantly. "She was happy until you came and
disturbed her poor brain."
"Her very clever brain!" contradicted the young man acidly. "Pshaw!
Major, am I a fool that you should talk to me in this way? Whatever
you may state to the outside world, for the sake of your illegal
income, you know perfectly well that Mavis is perfectly sane."
"She is not! Would she have killed Bellaria if sane?"
"Oh, you are trying to keep up that fiction also?"
"It is not fiction," insisted Rebb, obviously in earnest. "I will
admit that the girl's brain was stronger than I chose to tell anyone
outside this room. All the same, I believe that, weary of being shut
up, she tried to escape on that night. Bellaria came to stop her, and
Mavis then must have stabbed her. Remember, Bellaria had Geary's
knife."
"Do you really believe this?" asked Gerald, quite puzzled.
"I swear that I do! Come, Haskins, let us talk plainly, since there is
no one to hear us. Don't you believe it yourself?"
"No, I do not! You, if anyone, killed Bellaria."
"Why should I?"
"Because you knew that I would take the girl away and marry her. To
put her presumed insanity beyond all doubt you murdered Bellaria, and
placed the crime on the poor girl's shoulders. In this way, should she
be found, you secure her income for life, since she cannot marry."
"That would have been a clever thing for me to do," said Rebb, in a
quiet way, "but I had not the brains to conceive such a plot, much
less the cleverness to carry it out. I might, in a fit of rage, kill a
man capable of defending himself. I certainly should never raise my
hand to stab a defenceless woman, whatever provocation I might have."
"You were here about the time of the murder?" said Haskins, and he
wrinkled his brow in perplexity. Rebb spoke very earnestly.
"I was--since Mrs. Geary has let the cat out the bag I may as well
confess, and you will see how groundless your suspicions are. It was
long after ten o'clock when I left the Devon Maid, and I took a
lantern with me."
"Why did you go at all?"
"To search for your confounded canoe. Geary told me about it, and so
did Bellaria, who learned where it was hidden from Mavis."
"Yes. I told Mavis. Well?"
"Well, I wanted to find it and break it up, so that you should no
longer get across the pool and climb the wall. I walked over the
hills, and lost my way for a time. It was close upon twelve o'clock
when I got to the pool. I searched for the canoe and could not find
it. I heard a shriek inside the grounds of this house----"
"And you went to see what it was?"
"Not at the moment. I knew that Bellaria, being always terrified, for
reasons you need not know----"
"Pardon me, I know all about the Tána Society."
Rebb looked astonished, but made no comment, being too occupied in
exonerating himself. "Then you know that she suffered greatly from
nerves, and was afraid of being discovered and killed. Often she
shrieked at night, as Mavis told me, and at times, when here late, I
heard her myself. I therefore merely thought that Bellaria was in one
of her mad fits and went on searching. About one o'clock I climbed the
bank and, crossing the stream by the bridge to Leegarth, I went to the
gate of the Pixy's House, wondering if you had dared to come there,
after seeing me. I found the gates opened and Bellaria dead. As I was
stooping over the body, Geary came running from the house. He said
that he had followed me to tell about your shooting him in the arm,
and on finding Bellaria's body he had gone to look for Mavis. She had
vanished. I searched the house also, and could not find her. I
therefore came back to Denleigh with Geary, making him promise to say
nothing of our midnight visit."
"Why?" asked Gerald straightly.
"Why?" echoed the Major, looking surprised, "when you were meddling
with my affairs? Had you known of that visit at the time, you would
have denounced me to the police, and I should have had great
difficulty in clearing myself. I held my peace. And I tell you that I
really believed, as I believe now, that Mavis had stabbed Bellaria, so
as to get her liberty."
"Why did you not believe that some emissary of the Tána Society had
found out Bellaria's hiding place and had killed her?"
"You mean Venosta?" said Rebb hurriedly; "well I own that, after the
first shock of surprise, I did suspect Venosta, as Mrs. Crosbie had
shown me the coral hand, and had told me the use she put it to."
"Did she know about the society?" asked Gerald. "She declared that she
was ignorant of its existence."
"So she was. But I knew about the society at Naples fifteen or sixteen
years ago, when I rescued Bellaria from its clutches. No; I don't
believe Venosta killed Bellaria, although he would have done so, I am
sure, had he known where she was hiding. But he did not, and who could
have told him? Not Mrs. Crosbie--although you mentioned Bellaria's
name and whereabouts, confound you!--as Mrs. Crosbie knew nothing of
the Tána Society. Well, Haskins, you must see now that I am innocent."
"It looks like it, I admit. But everything fitted in so well with your
plans that I naturally thought you guilty."
"Then you see that I am not," snapped Rebb, much ruffled. "If I were,
would I confess my midnight journey to you?"
"Seeing that Mrs. Geary is about to make it public, I think you would
have had to in the long run," retorted Gerald sharply.
"She mustn't do that," muttered Rebb, still walking and becoming much
agitated, for he was beginning to realize his danger.
"She will, now that her husband can no longer terrorize her. You are
in a very awkward position. My advice to you--if you are really as
innocent as you pretend to be--is to search out Mavis and hand over
her income. After all, by the will, you need not account for what you
have spent up to date, and you have had a long run for your money."
"You say that, because you want the income yourself."
"I could do with it, and when I marry Mavis I shall certainly insist
upon justice being done to her. I would take her without a penny, as
you well know, but I am not such a fool as to refuse six thousand a
year along with a pretty, clever wife."
"Well then, find Mavis, and we shall see," cried Rebb, quite out of
temper, and throwing himself into a chair.
"For you to accuse her when she is found? No, thank you. First I want
to prove her innocence."
"You will find that difficult."
"Not with your help, Major."
Rebb grew violent. "Damn you. I say that I believe the girl may be
innocent, and surely I have exonerated myself."
"I may think so, but the public----"
"The public need never know anything about it. See here, Haskins, you
love this girl, and you seem to think that she is still alive. Good. I
make a bargain with you. Give me three thousand of this six thousand a
year belonging to the Durham estate, and you can marry Mavis quietly,
and take her to America, or the Colonies. No one will think to find
the notorious Mavis Durham in Mrs. Gerald Haskins. Thus everything
will be settled, and I can marry Mrs. Crosbie--as I greatly want
to--with a quiet heart. What say you?"
"I refuse your offer," said Gerald calmly. "Mavis shall have her
character cleared, and shall have nothing or all of her income."
Rebb rose and snapped his fingers. "Do your worst," he said, trying to
suppress his anger. "Find Mavis and marry her. But be prepared for me
to have her condemned for Bellaria's murder and shut up in an asylum."
"I hope to prove her innocence," said Haskins quietly.
"Even if you do," snarled Rebb, becoming reckless when he found
himself so beset, "you may lose the money."
"That is impossible: it belongs to Mavis."
"To the real Mavis."
Gerald rose, guessing that Rebb referred to the other twin. "What do
you mean by that, Rebb?"
"Mavis has a sister. Yes, you may look, but Charity Bird is the real
Mavis--or at least I can prove it to be so."
"There is a likeness between the girls, I admit," said Gerald,
pretending ignorance, "but it is ridiculous to say that they are
sisters."
"They are twin sisters. Sit down and I'll tell you all about it. But
that you can make so much mischief I should not say a word; but when
you know the truth, for your own sake you may hold your tongue and
give me half the income."
Without a word Haskins resumed his seat, marveling at thus having been
able to force Rebb's hand, without revealing his suspicions. The Major
hastily swallowed another glass of claret, and began to speak in a
hurry.
"I was in a Goorkha regiment in India some twenty-five years ago----"
Gerald interrupted: "I thought you were in a West Indian Regiment."
"Later, later!" said Rebb testily. "Don't interrupt. I exchanged to
Jamaica a few years later. But in India I had a brother officer, who
was my greatest friend. His name was Julian Durham, and he had six
thousand a year against my six hundred. He was not very strong, and
always said that, as he had no relatives, he would make me his heir.
Then he married a silly, flirting girl, with whom he quarreled, and my
hopes were thus dashed to the ground."
"Did you aid the quarrel?" asked Gerald delicately.
"Yes," replied Rebb shamelessly. "The wife stood in the way of my
getting a fortune from Julian, and I tried to part husband and wife. I
succeeded; for more than a year after the marriage, Mrs. Durham went
to Bombay, with the intention of living apart from her husband."
"What a scoundrel you are, Rebb," said Haskins, astonished at the
cold-blooded way in which the man recounted his villainy.
The Major laughed harshly. "I only tell this to you, and you don't
matter," he retorted. "Outside, if you say anything, I shall deny all,
and who will believe you, Haskins? However, to continue. We were
stationed in the far north of India, and I escorted Mrs. Durham to
Bombay, where she intended to embark for England. At Bombay she was
taken ill, and died giving birth to twins. I didn't want a couple of
girls on my hands, as I knew that Julian could not live long, so I
paid the nurse to take one of the children--the eldest, mind you--to
Simla, and to get rid of it somehow. She sold it, I believe, to a
juggler's wife, and afterwards Mrs. Pelham Odin, then on tour, bought
the child in Calcutta, to bring up. That child is Charity Bird."
"Can you prove this?"
"Yes! Be quite certain of that. The ayah and the juggler's wife are
still alive. Well, then, that disposed of one twin. I brought the
other back to the north of India to her father, and she was christened
Mavis. Julian was very ill, so made a will in my favor and in favor of
his child. I was to be her guardian, and to enjoy the money until she
married. Then I was to hand it over, without accounting for what I had
spent. In this way Julian hoped to satisfy me for his old promise to
make me his heir, and of course I agreed."
"And you said nothing of the other twin?"
"No. Why should I? One brat on my hands was enough. Afterwards Julian
came home to Brighton and died. It was at Brighton that he made his
will, as you know. I came back from India with Mavis, and, to cut off
all association with those who knew her and Durham, I exchanged into a
West India regiment, and took her to Jamaica. I sold out fifteen or
sixteen years ago, and brought the child here, after a tour in Italy.
It was in Naples that I found Bellaria. She was a singer, and had
betrayed some man belonging to the Tána Society. I don't know the
exact story, but she was in danger of death, so I took her by stealth
to Devonshire and made her nurse to Mavis."
"And Geary?"
"He was my servant in Jamaica. In Devonshire, at Barnstaple, he met
with his wife, and, as I wanted someone to watch the Pixy's House, I
established him at the Devon Maid, making him a present of the
freehold."
Gerald rose. "And you paid for it out of Mavis' money?"
"Of course I did--only you mistake, the money doesn't belong to Mavis
until she is married."
"She will be married to me the moment that I can find her," said
Gerald grimly, stalking to the door.
"Wait a bit," called out Rebb, "if you marry her without promising me
the three thousand a year I shall prove the identity of Charity, and
she will get the lot. When she marries Tod Macandrew--he's in love
with her, you know--you will get left."
"You cannot take the money from Mavis. Her name is mentioned in the
will," said Gerald coolly, and tried the door, which was locked. "I
say, open this, confound you!"
Major Rebb flung the key across the room, and Haskins fitted it into
the lock. Before he could open the door Rebb continued: "Don't be a
fool in your own interests, Haskins. I shall swear that Charity is
Mavis, and your beloved will lose all."
"You can scarcely do that, in the face of the story you will have to
tell. Mrs. Pelham Odin and the juggler's wife and the ayah can prove
that Charity is the missing twin. And I daresay Mavis' baptismal
certificate can be found. Her name in the will makes her the heiress."
"Then I'll tell about Charity and prove her identity," cried Rebb,
starting furiously to his feet, "and she will at least get half."
"I don't care if she does," retorted Gerald, flinging open the door.
"But you had better give the money to me, and then I'll be silent as
to Charity being Durham's daughter."
"No, Major. I don't care for your crooked ways. I'll find Mavis and
marry her. Probably she will be quite willing to halve the income with
her twin. Three thousand a year will be enough for her and for me.
Good-day, Major, find some other man who is willing to become such a
blackguard as you are."
Rebb caught the decanter and slung it across the room. It only crashed
against the closed door. And when Rebb ran forward to pursue the man
who flouted him he found the door locked on the outside.