DANGER.
"Woman, this stranger
Knows not thy shame;
Yet there is danger
Hears he thy name.
"Hide it, conceal it,
Heed not the cost;
Breathe it, reveal it,
And thou art lost."
The diamond scarf-pin had been found on the terrace of Thornstream by
Mrs. Belk, so the man to whom it belonged must have been there on the
night of the murder, and the owner thereof, according to Maxwell's
firm conviction--on the testimony of his own eyes--was none other than
the stranger who had been in the company of Mrs. Belswin at the
Deswarth station. The first thing, therefore, to be done was to find
out who this stranger was, and demand from him an explanation of his
presence at Thornstream on that fatal night.
Maxwell, however, did not know this man whom he suspected of being a
murderer; he did not even know his name; but he could discover all
about him in two ways, one of which was doubtful, the other certain.
The doubtful way:
To go down to Deswarth and inquire from the landlord of The Chequers
the name, position, and business in the village of the man who had
stayed at the inn. This was doubtful in this way: that supposing the
stranger had come to Deswarth to commit this crime, he would naturally
give a false name to the landlord, so as to obviate the danger of
discovery, so Maxwell, with this idea in his head, plainly saw that
going down to Deswarth in order to interview the landlord would, in
all reasonable probability, be a waste of time.
The certain way:
To ask Mrs. Belswin the name of her companion, and the reason of his
coming to the village. Archie felt his old doubts about Mrs. Belswin
revive as he thought of the doubtful juxtaposition of this suspicious
character with the companion. Why had she gone to London at the time
of Sir Rupert's arrival? Why had she returned with a stranger, who had
been on the terrace on the night of the murder? And why had Sir
Rupert been murdered on the night of her return? Only one person could
answer all these inquiries, and that person was Mrs. Belswin. There
was certainly something very mysterious about her conduct; but
doubtless she would be able to give a satisfactory explanation;
otherwise---- A cold sweat broke out on Maxwell's brow as he thought
of the alternative.
Suspense is always more terrible than the event itself, and Archie,
full of suspicion against Mrs. Belswin and the unknown foreigner,
tortured his mind to a frightful extent over the possibility of this
woman being concerned in the murder. If, however, she was innocent,
she would be able to exculpate herself from any complicity in the
affair; but if she was guilty it was terrible to think that she was
the daily and nightly companion of Kaituna. She had possibly killed
the father! If so she might also kill the daughter. Was she some one
whom Sir Rupert had wronged, and who thus avenged herself by the hand
of another. The idea was terrible, and Maxwell, filled with the agony
of uncertainty, determined to go at once to Mrs. Belswin and demand an
explanation.
He made a point of calling that afternoon, and was lucky enough to
find Mrs. Belswin alone, as Kaituna had gone out on a shopping
excursion with Mrs. Valpy, who had come up to town the previous day.
Mrs. Belswin informed the young man of this, and invited him to wait
until Kaituna returned at the hour of five o'clock.
"Meanwhile," she said, ringing the bell, "sit down, and we will have
some tea."
Maxwell mechanically took a seat and glanced at the clock, the hands
of which pointed to four. This would give him a full hour to speak to
Mrs. Belswin before the arrival of Kaituna, and in that time he
expected to learn all he desired to know.
The lady seemed preoccupied, and as Maxwell was racking his brains to
invent some leading question, neither of them spoke for a few minutes.
The servant brought in the tea, and while Mrs. Belswin busied herself
with the cups, she for the first time noticed the unusual silence of
the young man.
"Well, Mr. Maxwell," she said, handing him his tea, with a smile,
"speech, I understand, was given to us to conceal our thoughts. You, I
perceive, conceal them without speaking."
"I have come to see you on a matter of business," said Archie,
abruptly putting down his cup on a small table near at hand.
The paleness of his face, the abruptness of his speech, the agitation
of his manner, at once put Mrs. Belswin on her guard, and a thrill of
fear shot through her heart--fear lest he should have discovered
anything about her past life which would be fatal to her living with
Kaituna. Her iron stoicism, however, prevailed, and she awaited with
outward calm, but inward perturbation, his next words.
"Mrs. Belswin," he said, slowly bending towards her, "do you know this
diamond pin?"
"Oh!" muttered Mrs. Belswin under her breath, recognising it at once,
"more misfortune."
"What do you say?"
"Before I answer your question, Mr. Maxwell," she observed, fixing her
keen eyes on his face, "I wish to know why you put it."
"Certainly, that is only fair. Do you remember the day I met you at
the Deswarth railway station?"
"Yes!"
"There was a stranger with you?"
"A stranger?"
"Pray do not evade the question," said Maxwell, in an annoyed tone; "I
mean the dark gentleman whom you sent off to see about your
portmanteau, and who accompanied you from town."
"How do you know he accompanied me from town?"
"I saw you both leave a first-class carriage together."
"That proves nothing. Travelling in the same carriage does not prove
that he accompanied me from town."
"But he looked after your luggage at your request!"
"Yes! he did so, certainly, but what does that prove?"
"Simply this, that you know the gentleman."
Mrs. Belswin would have liked to deny this, as she saw from the
production of the diamond pin, and the mention of Ferrari, that
Maxwell knew something; but she was so afraid, lest, failing her, he
should ask Kaituna, and so possibly discover more than she wished,
that she answered him frankly.
"Yes, I do know the gentleman."
"Ah! and you know his name?"
"Yes! His name is--but why do you want to know?"
"Because he wore this diamond pin on the day I saw him with you, and
this diamond pin----"
"Yes! yes!" cried Mrs. Belswin, breathlessly, clasping her hands.
"--Was found on the terrace of Thornstream the morning after the
murder."
The woman sprang to her feet, with a cry.
"Ferrari! impossible."
"Is his name Ferrari?"
"Yes! No! that is, Mr. Maxwell," she cried, seizing the young man by
the lappet of his coat "What do you mean? what do you suspect?"
"I mean that this diamond pin belongs to Ferrari, whom you have just
named. I suspect that he murdered Sir Rupert Pethram."
Mrs. Belswin uttered a cry of terror.
"No! no! It cannot be."
"Then let him prove his innocence."
"Prove his innocence?"
"Yes!" said Maxwell, with an air of determination. "I have made up my
mind to bring the murderer of Sir Rupert Pethram to justice.
Appearances are dead against this man, and I intend to put the matter
in the hands of the police."
"You will never find him."
Maxwell bounded from his seat, and crossing rapidly to Mrs. Belswin,
seized her wrist.
"Tell me," he said, imperiously, "have you any reason for wishing this
man to escape?"
"I!" she murmured, evasively; "I wish him to escape?"
"Yes! To all appearances he is your friend. He comes down with you to
Deswarth. A jewel belonging to him is found at the window of a room.
In that room a man is found dead. What does it all mean?"
"Wait!" cried the woman, wrenching herself from his grasp. "Wait; I
must think."
Maxwell obeyed, and returned to his seat with a cloud on his brow, for
the complicity of Mrs. Belswin in the affair now began to assume
gigantic proportions.
On her part, Mrs. Belswin saw at a glance the dangers by which she was
environed, and her active brain was already at work seeking some plan
by which she could extricate herself. She already saw that Maxwell
suspected her, and if he did so she trembled lest he should
communicate his suspicions to her daughter. With her hands pressed to
her burning face, she rapidly glanced at the aspect of affairs in
order to know how to act towards this young man, whose attitude
towards her was undeniably hostile.
If she refused to tell him anything he would put the matter into the
hands of the police, and they would immediately arrest Ferrari. In
doing so they would have no difficulty, as he, being a singer, was
easily to be found, and appearances were sufficiently strong against
him to authorise the granting of a warrant for his arrest. If Ferrari
were arrested he would certainly, urged by a fear of the law, reveal
all about her in his examination, and Kaituna would then learn that
Mrs. Belswin, the companion, was her mother. If she did so, Mrs.
Belswin trembled for the result of such a discovery, so at once she
made up her mind to promise Maxwell an interview with Ferrari, and
meanwhile warn the Italian of his peril. By this means she hoped that,
if guilty, Ferrari would at once fly from England; or, if innocent, he
would be able to exculpate himself without incriminating her, so that
in either case she would still preserve the secret of her true
relationship to Kaituna.
"Mr. Maxwell," she said at length, suppressing her agitation, "I will
tell you all I know, and then you can judge for yourself."
"Thank you, Mrs. Belswin," replied Maxwell, in a tone of relief. "I
think that will be the best way, as I am anxious to avoid the
interference of the police."
"And why, sir," demanded Mrs. Belswin, with a piercing glance.
The young man made no reply, but looked confused, upon which the woman
laughed bitterly.
"Ah, I see," she said with scorn; "you think that I, a stranger to the
late Sir Rupert, am implicated in his death."
"I have not said so, madam," murmured the young man, hastily.
"I swear before God," cried Mrs. Belswin, rising from her seat and
raising her right hand--"I swear before God that I know nothing of the
death of this man."
"But Ferrari----"
"I believe Ferrari to be innocent. Appearances are against him, it is
true, but that does not render him guilty. Listen, Mr. Maxwell.
Stephano Ferrari is a friend of mine, for I met him in America. Before
I came to England I was an opera-singer, and he was singing with me in
the same company. We are engaged to be married."
"You?"
"Yes. I wanted to rest my voice, and as I had but little money I
became companion to Miss Pethram. You know whether I have been a good
friend to her or not."
"You have been a good friend, certainly."
"My duties kept me near Miss Pethram, so I saw Ferrari but rarely, and
as he is devoted to me, naturally he missed my society. At the time I
left Deswarth, I came to London to see about my marriage, and on my
return--which was on a Sunday--Ferrari came down with me, as he was
not singing that night. Is there anything strange in this?"
"No; it seems quite natural," replied Maxwell, after a pause. "I would
act the same way towards Kaituna."
"Signor Ferrari," resumed Mrs. Belswin, coldly, "stayed that night at
The Chequers, and returned, I believe, next morning to town. I did not
see him, as, owing to the terrible death of Sir Rupert, I had to stay
with Kaituna. I do not know how he spent the night. I do not know at
what hour he returned in the morning."
"But this scarf-pin?"
"It is certainly his; but what of that? He may have come to
Thornstream to see me, and lost it on the terrace."
"If so, why did he not see you?"
"I do not know. I know nothing beyond what I have told you; but set
your mind at rest. Come here to-morrow morning at eleven o'clock, and
I will take you to Signor Ferrari, who will doubtless be able to
explain all to your satisfaction."
"You will?"
"Yes; at eleven to-morrow. I am sure he is innocent."
"I hope so," said Maxwell, heartily, "if only for your sake."
"You are still suspicious, I see," replied Mrs. Belswin, with a faint
smile. "Well, it is only natural, and I hope your suspicions will be
dispelled by Signor Ferrari's explanation. But now I must ask you to
permit me to retire, as all this exciting talk has given me a
headache. If, however, you will wait for Kaituna----"
"Not to-night, thank you," said Maxwell, hastily taking his hat and
stick. "I'm too disturbed to see her. Good-bye; I rely on your
promise. To-morrow at eleven."
"At eleven I will wait you," answered Mrs. Belswin, truthfully; "so at
present good-bye, and don't think worse of me than you can help."
Maxwell said nothing, but, bowing politely, left the room, while Mrs.
Belswin, annoyed at his silence, stood frowning angrily.
"He still suspects," she muttered, ringing the bell. "Ferrari must put
an end to his suspicions--if he can."
The servant entered the room.
"A hansom at once!"
She put on her cloak and bonnet and returned to the sitting-room to
wait for the cab.
"I'm in terrible danger," she said pulling on her gloves--"terrible
danger. One false step, and all may be known. Ferrari is my only hope.
Can he be guilty? Appearances are against him. If he is a murderer let
him suffer, as long as he keeps silence."
"The cab, ma'am."
Mrs. Belswin went downstairs.
"I don't care what happens," she cried, when driving away, "as long as
I keep my child."