WHAT TERA KNEW
Ill news travels fast. Slade and his wife brought the tragic tidings
to Grimleigh that night, and by morning the whole town was in
possession of a distorted version of the facts. The milkman reported
his own particular rendering of the affair to Miss Arnott's servant,
who in her turn informed her mistress. Miss Arnott, feeling that the
minister should be notified, put on her hat and called on him. She was
shown into the dining-room, and found Johnson making a hurried
breakfast, preparatory to departing for Bethdagon. Carwell had sent a
special messenger to bring him up.
"I know all about it. Miss Arnott," he said, when the lady entered.
"It is very terrible. But I am glad to say that there is every chance
of Mr. Mayne's recovery."
"I thought he was dying."
"No. Brother Carwell's messenger informs me that Lee's knife pierced
no vital part. The man will recover. Let us hope that he will repent
of his sins, and lead a new life."
"Amen to that," said Miss Arnott, softly; "and the gipsy?"
"He is still at large. It will not be easy for the police to catch
Pharaoh, The man knows the country as I know this room."
"I hope they won't catch him," cried Miss Arnott, with a defiant look;
"wicked as Lee has been, Mr. Mayne is worse. Pharaoh had great
provocation to kill him. 'An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth,' Mr.
Johnson. If Mr. Mayne murdered this unhappy girl whom he made his
wife, it is right that he should suffer."
"'Vengeance is Mine,'" said Johnson, solemnly, "you know the text.
Pharaoh had no right to take the law into his own hands."
"Perhaps not. But Mr. Mayne robbed him of the woman he loved, and no
doubt he lost his head for the moment. Love is capable of all things."
"You are right," said the minister, bitterly, as he thought of his own
sad romance. "God knows we are but weak reeds blown by the wind. But
we do not know yet if Mayne is guilty of Zara's death. I have still to
hear the true version from Farmer Carwell."
"Let me know when you return," remarked Miss Arnott, rising; then,
after a pause, she added, "And all these troubles have arisen from
Bithiah coming to stay with you."
"I am afraid so. Let us hope they will end with her going. Next week I
celebrate the ceremony of her marriage with Finland, as they both
leave Grimleigh in the _Dayspring_."
"Will her departure break your heart?" asked Miss Arnott,
sarcastically.
Johnson reddened. "I once thought it would," he said in a low voice.
"And don't you feel as you did?"
"No, I do not. That folly is at an end. Before her supposed death she
was all in all to me. Now I contemplate her marriage with Finland at
least without distress."
A smile of relief and joy irradiated the face of Miss Arnott. The
burden of years seemed to fall from her shoulders, and her eyes
brightened like those of a young girl. With a swift motion she
gathered her shawl round her graceful figure, and stepped lightly
towards the door. "Go on your errand of mercy," she said in low tones,
"and when you return come to me."
"Miss Arnott! Miss Arnott!" called the minister, nervously; but she
was gone, and he could not summon up courage to follow her.
When Johnson was on his road to Bethdagon he thought less of his
errand than was consistent with the interest it had for him. The last
words of Miss Arnott rang in his ears; the look on her face was
constantly before his eyes. He knew well that his confession had
inspired her with a new hope, and he did not know exactly what to
think of it. His love for Tera had not been transferred to Miss
Arnott. Yet the woman had done him a great kindness in the most
delicate manner. He was her debtor to a large amount in money, and in
gratitude, yet he could see no way save one of repaying her. That way
he hesitated to take. He respected her, but he had no love to bestow;
and he pursued his journey agitated in his mind as to what he had best
do under such untoward circumstances. If Johnson had been a strong man
with a well-defined character he would have decided at once and held
by his decision; but he was weak-willed, gentle, and loth to give
pain. It was a knowledge of this instability that made Miss Arnott so
persistent in her determination. The woman knew that in the end she
would gain her heart's desire. The man had an inkling of it too, yet
fought and argued and held back in the vain effort to avoid the
inevitable. Poor Mr. Johnson! He was good, and lovable, and
tender-hearted, but he lacked the strength to be a hero. Yet in his
weakness was he not more heroic than many in their strength?
Farmer Carwell was waiting for the minister. He looked much older, for
the terrible experiences of the previous night had proved a severe
shock to his nerves. Jack, he informed Johnson, had gone to the
schooner in answer to a message from Shackel. Tera was looking after
the house, so far as she was able in her untrained way, and Rachel was
nursing Herbert.
"Nursing Herbert?" repeated Johnson, for this was the last news he
expected to hear; "has she forgiven him?"
Carwell did not reply at once. He brought out two chairs, and planted
them in a shady corner where the sun was strong. "I don't know if she
has forgiven him," he said when they were seated; "women are strange
in their affections, and Rachel is no exception. Mayne has done her a
cruel wrong, and if he were in his usual health and strength I do not
think she would let him come near her. But now he is laid low, she
will hardly leave his bedside. She would not even let him be removed
to his own house. I was unwilling that the scoundrel should stay here,
but Rachel insisted, and so I gave way."
"Is he dying?"
"No, I don't think he will die; men like Mayne never do meet the
reward of their evil deeds. You remember the text of the 'wicked
flourishing like a green bay-tree,' Brother Johnson. As like as not he
will recover--so the doctor says. Then," added Carwell, with a bitter
smile, "I suppose Rachel will marry him."
"Will you allow her to do so?"
"What can I do to prevent it? She is of age, and can act as best
pleases her. I might threaten to disinherit her, but she is so
infatuated with the scoundrel that she would not care if she went to
him penniless. And he is well off in this world's goods, you know.
Yes, I believe she will marry him, unless Chard proves him guilty of
murdering his wife."
"Do you think he really killed her?" asked Johnson, doubtfully.
"Bithiah says he did not, but I cannot see how she knows. Slade
declares that Herbert met Zara on that night and obtained from her the
pearl which Bithiah gave her for the clothes. Herbert--so that Rachel
might not know of his meeting--bribed Slade with the pearl."
"Slade should be punished for his act."
"I think he will be," replied Carwell. "Mr. Inspector was here to-day,
and he intends to report him at headquarters. So that is all Mrs.
Slade has gained by her jealousy. It was her discovery of the pearl
which led to this. She is satisfied now that he is innocent, and had
nothing to do either with Bithiah or Zara; but she has lost him his
employment."
"Slade must have known, that the dead girl was Zara."
"Yes, I believe he did. For he saw her meet Mayne in Bithiah's
clothes, and recognized her face in the moonlight. The scoundrel
accepted the bribe, to hold his tongue; and did so in the face of all
the trouble you got into, Brother Johnson."
"Not only that," rejoined the minister, resentfully, "but he actually
worked against me in order to implicate me in the supposed murder of
Bithiah. He tried to make out that I had taken from my study the cord
with which the girl was strangled."
"By the way, who did take the cord?"
"I don't know. It might have been Mayne. He was frequently in my
study."
"No," rejoined Carwell, after a moment's thought, "I do not believe
Mayne did so. Bithiah very truly says that if he did kill the girl, he
must have done so in a passion. In that case he would hardly have got
the cord beforehand for the commission of a crime which at the time
never entered his mind. Bad as the man is, I think he is innocent of
murder."
"It could not have been Slade."
"Certainly not. Slade had no motive to kill the girl. Zara was not
married to him, but to Mayne."
"What about Pharaoh Lee?"
"Oh! he was in the North when Zara was there," replied Carwell, "and
if he were guilty he would hardly have sought the assistance of the
Poldew police. No! I can't think who is the guilty person."
"Time will show," said Johnson, rising. "Has Pharaoh been caught yet?
I hear the police are after him."
"They might as well try to catch a flash of lightning," said Carwell,
gloomily. "Lee has had twelve hours' start of them, and, now he has
accomplished his vengeance, I do not think he will be seen in these
parts again. I hope he will go free," added the farmer, unconsciously
echoing the wish of Miss Arnott. "After all, he only gave Mayne what
he deserved."
"Brother Carwell, that is not the speech of a Christian."
"Perhaps not; but it is hard to be a Christian under the
circumstances."
Clearly, Parmer Carwell's character and temper had not improved under
the trouble that had come upon him. Yet Johnson, in spite of his
sacred profession, did not feel called upon to reprove the old man
over much. To know that his only child loved a proven scoundrel and
wished to marry him was provocation indeed. And Rachel, in the face of
all she knew, declared her intention of becoming Mayne's wife when he
recovered. She had a thousand excuses for his conduct.
"Men are weak," said Rachel, when her father tried to reason her out
of this infatuation, "and Herbert is no worse than the rest of them.
That girl Zara tempted him, and he fell. It was honourable of him to
make her his wife. I dare say he need not have done so."
"Rachel! Rachel! Is it my child who speaks thus?"
"I love Herbert more than my own soul," answered Rachel, and from this
strange perverse attitude she could not be moved.
For the next two or three days Herbert's life hung as by a thread. The
doctor almost gave him up, but in the end he rallied. His own strong
constitution and Rachel's tender nursing prevailed, and he slowly grew
stronger. Then he repented, and wept in his weakness; implored Rachel
not to leave him, and declared that it was for her sake that he had
bribed Slade. Rachel required little persuasion to believe in these
protestations, which were perhaps quite sincere. Base as Herbert had
proved himself to be, he truly loved her, and, knowing this, she
promised to marry him as soon as he could leave his bed. Although
Carwell anticipated that her obstinacy would lead to this result, he
was in despair at the prospect of its realization.
As the days went by, Inspector Chard made all search for Lee, but
failed to find a trace of him. From the moment he ran out into the
night the man had not been seen. His tribe knew nothing of him--or
said they knew nothing,--and, although the police scoured the country
for miles around, no trace of the fugitive could be discovered. Then
Chard relaxed his search, and began to pay frequent visits to the
farmhouse to make inquiries after Herbert's health. Rachel scented the
danger.
"Why do you ask so often about Herbert?" she demanded one day.
"I wish to know when it will be safe to remove him to Poldew gaol,"
said the inspector, frankly.
Rachel was not so astonished at this reply as might have been
expected.
"You accuse him of the murder?" said she, scornfully.
"Yes. And I intend to arrest him on suspicion. Mayne had a reason for
ridding himself of the girl, and he was the last person to see her
alive. And I believe he is guilty of her death. However, that can be
proved when he is tried."
"You intend to arrest him, then?"
"Yes; as soon as the doctor says he can be moved."
Rachel said no more at the time, for she might as well have attempted
to persuade a block of granite to mercy as Chard. The inspector had
been taunted with his failure in this case, and his pride was hurt. He
believed Herbert was guilty, in spite of the young man's denial, and
rejoiced that he had survived Pharaoh's knife to be punished for his
crime.
But if he was determined to arrest Mayne, Rachel was equally resolved
to save her lover. She was certain of Herbert's innocence, but saw no
way of proving it. Then it struck her that Tera might know the truth,
and to Tera she went for information. The Polynesian girl was wretched
enough herself at the moment, for, in spite of all her cajoling,
Carwell sternly refused to give his nephew the needful five hundred
pounds. Tera was in despair, as she saw her stay at Grimleigh
prolonged for an indefinite period.
"Bithiah," said Rachel, in desperation, "the inspector says that
Herbert is guilty, and I am sure he is not. Can you help me to prove
his innocence? I would do anything--give anything, to save him."
Tera looked up alertly. "Jack wants five hundred pounds," she said;
"will you persuade your father to give it to him if I tell you who
killed Zara? I know who did it."
"You know! Tell me--oh! dear Bithiah, tell me!"
"No. I want that money for Jack. Then I'll tell."
"Cruel, cruel girl--mercenary----"
"I am not mercenary," retorted Tera, haughtily. "If I can help Jack,
why should I not do so? Besides, if I help you, you should help me.
Get me the five hundred from your father, and----"
"My father will not give the money."
"Then I hold my tongue!"
"Herbert's life depends upon your speaking out."
"Jack's future depends upon my holding my tongue," said Tera, with a
sigh, "and in more ways than one."
"Well, if you will only do it for money, I will give it to you
myself," cried Rachel. "My mother left me six hundred pounds. Some of
it is invested, but the greater part of it is in the bank at Poldew. I
can give you a cheque now, if you will speak out."
"I'll speak out. I'll save Herbert," said Tera, excitedly, "only give
me the money."
Disgusted with such avarice on the part of Tera, but reflecting that
she had to do with a half-civilized being, Rachel left the room and
shortly returned with a cheque.
"Take it to the bank, and you will get the money."
"I must see the money in cash," said Tera, cunningly. "I won't speak
till then."
"Let us drive into Poldew this afternoon, then," replied Rachel,
impatiently, "and you can get the money yourself. And let me tell you,
Bithiah, I would not give you this money so readily unless I had
already determined to give it to Jack. My father refuses to lend it,
but I am willing to do so, as I know Jack will give it to me again,
when he makes money in the South Seas."
"So long as Jack gets the money to go to Koiau, I don't care if you
give it or lend it," replied Tera, sullenly; "I am only anxious to get
away."
Rachel said nothing, but left the room to give directions about
Herbert, so that he might be well attended during her absence. Shortly
the two girls were driving to Poldew, with Tolai behind them, for the
Polynesian utterly refused to leave his mistress. The money was
obtained in gold, as Tera wished, and this, packed in a little wooden
box, corded and sealed, was placed in the trap.
"Now," said Tera, gleefully, "let us drive to Grimleigh and take the
money to Jack. He is on board the schooner."
As they drove off, Rachel could no longer restrain her impatience.
"Now, then," she said, when they were out of the town, "who killed
Zara?"
Tera, who was driving, shook the reins with a careless laugh.
"Oh!" she said coolly, "I killed her myself!"