WATERLOO
Having finished her business in London, Beatrice returned to Hurstable
with Durban. They went back to The Camp, as the girl did not wish
to again take up her abode in Convent Grange until her relations
with Vivian Paslow were more settled. What Major Ruck meant by his
mysterious hints, she could not imagine, but deep in her heart she
cherished a hope that everything would yet be made smooth, and that all
these troubles which desolated her life would be finally ended by her
marriage with the man she loved.
It may seem strange that she should dwell at The Camp along with one
who had confessed himself guilty of a terrible crime. But Beatrice,
as she had said in London, and repeated frequently afterwards, did
not believe Durban to be guilty. In an excess of zeal, and in order
to secure her happiness, he professed himself to be the criminal. Had
Waterloo and Major Ruck not accused Vivian, the girl felt very certain
that Durban would not have accused himself. The man still insisted that
he was guilty, and Beatrice still refused to believe him. After much
thought she determined to give Vivian a chance of clearing himself, and
believed that could he prove his innocence, Durban would not proceed
with his self-sacrifice. With this in her mind, she wrote a note to
Paslow the day after she arrived at The Camp. Durban was not with her
at the time, as he had gone to the station to get the newspapers.
It was necessary to see if the Black Patch Gang's quarters had been
raided, and if Major Ruck had been arrested; if so, the appointment
which the Major had made for the next evening at seven need not be kept.
Paslow, looking anxious and eager, arrived about three in the
afternoon, and with him came Dinah. Without giving her brother time to
speak, the girl flew at Beatrice and kissed her several times.
"Oh, Beatrice, I have such heaps and heaps to tell you," she gasped,
with a flushed face and very bright eyes. "Jerry and I are going to be
married in three months."
"That is indeed good news," said Beatrice cordially, and did not
seek to stop the flow of Miss Paslow's confidences. After the sordid
scoundrels with whom she had been mixed up lately she was more than
delighted to be in the company of this homely, honest maiden, and to
hear her artless prattle. Vivian cast an inquiring look at Beatrice, as
he was anxious to know how she had sped with Lady Watson, and could not
understand why she had returned with Durban. But the girl merely smiled
to reassure him, although she felt far from smiling, and demanded the
news from Dinah. That damsel was only too glad to lead the conversation.
"It's this way," she declared, sitting down, and breathing hard: "Jerry
has had his salary raised, and we'll have enough to rent a tweeny house
at Fulham, or Bedford Park, or somewhere nice. Jerry is writing a
novel, and I'm going to help him. And Mr. Snow has been made a Dean of
some place in Wales."
"I am glad to hear that," said Beatrice quickly, for she thought that
this preferment would remove Mrs. Snow from the neighbourhood--a thing
devoutly to be wished for, since the woman disliked her.
"So am I, because Mr. Snow will get a large salary; and, in spite of
Mrs. Snow (who is a cat!), Mr. Snow intends to allow Jerry and me one
hundred a year. Vivian (who is a dear!) intends to allow me the same,
so what with this and Jerry's salary we'll have about four or five
hundred a year to begin life on. I really don't know if I am standing
on my head or my heels," cried Dinah, clapping her hands, and with her
freckled face aglow with lively joy.
"So you see, Beatrice," said Vivian, with a smile on his dark face,
"her happiness and life are settled. She will marry Jerry, and help him
to become the Shakespeare of his generation."
"Oh no. Shakespeare only wrote plays!" said Dinah contemptuously.
"Or was it Bacon? Jerry is to write novels, like Thackeray or George
Eliot--but she was a woman, wasn't she? We'll be so happy; and I intend
to furnish the drawing-room in cherry-colour, which always----"
"My dear Dinah," said Vivian impatiently, "can't you leave these minor
details to some future occasion?"
"Ah! wait till you and Beatrice consult about the refurnishing of the
Grange," said Dinah reprovingly; "then you'll find how important all
these things are. Mr. and Mrs. Snow go to Wales in a month, Beatrice,
and I shan't be sorry. I want to be miles and miles away from my
future mother-in-law. But I must go." Dinah rose in a hurry. "I am
on my way to the station to meet Jerry. I only called in to tell you
how delicious everything is. Good-bye, good-bye!" and Dinah, kissing
Beatrice twice, took herself off rapidly, while Vivian shrugged his
shoulders.
"What a whirlwind in petticoats!" said he good-humouredly.
"I am glad she is to be happy with her lover," said Beatrice in a
pensive manner. "And I am also glad," she added, looking attentively at
Paslow, "to know that Mrs. Snow is leaving the neighbourhood."
"So am I," said Paslow, with a sigh. "That woman hates you, Beatrice."
"She cannot do me any harm," replied the girl, and then looked again at
Vivian. She noted with a pang how worn and thin he appeared: noted also
that there were white hairs amongst his thick black locks. "My poor
boy," she said tenderly, "you have suffered!"
Vivian looked at her in a startled way, and put out his hand as though
to keep her off. "Don't," he said hoarsely, "or else I shall forget
myself and take you in my arms."
"Vivian"--she touched his arm and he winced, with a flush of colour, at
the tenderness--"we may come together after all."
"Beatrice!" he said breathlessly, then dropped the hand which he had
seized. "You know who stands between us."
"She may not always stand between us, Vivian."
"What! Is she dead?"
"No. But Major Ruck---- Wait, Vivian; let us sit down and talk. I have
much to tell you, dear."
"Yes, yes. Sit here!" Vivian hurriedly led her towards a garden seat
near the battered sundial, and fixing his eyes on her tired face,
waited impatiently for what she had to say. But Beatrice did not begin
at once: she wanted to startle him into telling the truth.
"Major Ruck and Waterloo both accuse you of killing Alpenny," she said
bluntly, and looking straightly at him.
Vivian jumped up with a suppressed oath. "What a lie!"
"Tell me," she said quickly--"tell me exactly what you did on that
night."
"I have told you. I caught Waterloo and kicked him; then I looked for
you, and not finding you, went home. Next morning I called to see how
you were getting on, and gave the key of the smaller gate to Durban,
who hung it up in the counting-house, as he told you."
"You were not near this place on that night?"
"No. I swear I was not."
Beatrice saw from his earnest, puzzled look that he really spoke the
truth. Without wasting further time in skirting round the subject, she
related what had taken place at the Black Patch Gang's den in Stepney.
Vivian listened with growing surprise, and jumping up, began to walk
backwards and forwards, much agitated. When she had finished, he
stopped before her with an angry air.
"The whole story is a lie!" he declared decisively. "I certainly caught
Waterloo, and kicked him: he certainly threatened me with a very
ugly-looking knife; but he got away before I could take it off him. I
wish I had found it before I tied his hands."
"You tied his hands?"
"Yes, with my handkerchief."
Beatrice rose suddenly, and caught her lover's arm with so much force
that he winced. "What is it?" he asked, puzzled by her look.
"Did--did--Waterloo get away with the handkerchief?"
"Yes. I knocked him down and tied his hands. I was going away, when he
got rid of the handkerchief, and ran at me with a knife. I dodged him,
and then tried to seize him again; but he showed no more fight, and ran
away. He held the handkerchief in one hand and the knife in another."
"Vivian," cried Beatrice, with a pale face, "Waterloo killed Mr.
Alpenny!--yes, he killed him, I am certain."
"What do you mean? How can you explain?"
"Listen. I found your handkerchief soaking in the blood of Alpenny, and
lying near the body in the counting-house yonder. I thought for the
moment that you were guilty. I spoke to Durban, and he told me that you
had given him the handkerchief--no, that wasn't it. He said that you
had left the handkerchief behind when you quarrelled with Mr. Alpenny,
when you last met him."
"I never did. And----"
"Wait, wait. Of course you didn't. To save my feelings Durban told a
lie."
"Why didn't you speak to me?"
"I didn't think of doing so; you explained about the key. I forgot,
I suppose, with all the troubles that we had. But you can see now:
this man, Waterloo, had the knife, he had the handkerchief, and he was
a member of the Black Patch Gang. Alpenny, because he betrayed the
Gang, was condemned to death, and Waterloo is the man whom Major Ruck
called the executioner. He left you to return to The Camp and kill Mr.
Alpenny; then he escaped by the secret passage."
Vivian walked about in an excited manner. "By Jupiter! Beatrice, I do
believe that you are right. We'll have the little beast arrested."
"I dare say, if the police have raided the Stepney den, that he has
already been arrested. Oh, how I wish those papers would come!"
"What papers?"
"The daily newspapers. Durban went to the station to get them, as we
expect to read about the raid. And I want to clear your character--so
that Durban's life may be saved."
"What do you mean?" asked Vivian, utterly puzzled.
"He accuses himself of the crime to clear you. He knows that I love
you, and, thinking your loss would break my heart, intended to answer
for you."
"But I have not committed any crime."
"No. But the Major and Waterloo can build up an accusation against you;
it will be difficult to disprove, and----"
"It will not be difficult," said Vivian determinedly; "the
handkerchief will prove Waterloo's guilt. Does Durban believe that I am
the guilty person?"
"I think so, or he would not take the guilt upon himself."
"Then I forgive his doubts of me, because he is so ready to take my
supposed crime on his own shoulders. But do you believe me to----"
"Vivian"--she stretched out her hands--"I never have believed you to be
guilty. You know that; and now we both know the truth--Waterloo is the
criminal."
"And Waterloo will soon be in the hands of the police. Beatrice, I
shall go and see the constable at Hurstable. He will send for the
Inspector who had charge of the case. We'll tell him everything, and
when Major Ruck comes here to-morrow at seven, he can be arrested."
"But he is not guilty?"
"He is an accomplice. Waterloo apparently killed Alpenny by his
order--and, indeed, the Major probably was present at the time, since
he admits himself to have been the man you saw leaving The Camp.
I shall go at once. Wait here, Beatrice; I'll come back with the
constable. And meantime, when Durban returns with the papers, you can
see if the Gang's den has been raided."
"Yes, yes. Go at once!"
The face of Beatrice was aglow with joy, and she went with her lover to
the great gates, which now usually stood wide open. And she had every
cause for joy. They now knew that Waterloo was the assassin who had
murdered old Alpenny. Vivian was guiltless, and so was Durban, who, to
save the tears of his young mistress, had so nobly taken upon himself
the burden of shame. When Vivian departed post-haste to see the village
constable, and to put all things in train for the capture of Major Ruck
and his accomplices, Beatrice walked to and fro much excited.
"Dear Durban, good Durban!" she murmured again and again. "What a
friend he has been to me! But there will be no need for this sacrifice.
Vivian's character can be cleared, and then----" She hesitated, and
wondered again if Major Ruck could fulfil his promise and remove the
obstacle to her marriage with Vivian. She could not think of how this
could be done, save by the death of Maud Paslow; and yet she did
not think that Ruck, villain as he was, would kill a woman. All the
same, he had certainly killed Alpenny through the instrumentality of
Waterloo. "I must give Major Ruck the necklace in any case," said
Beatrice, quite forgetting that when Vivian told the police, Ruck
would need no necklace and would be in the dock. She went to her
bedroom-carriage and got out the necklace, which flashed bravely in the
sun. It was certainly a magnificent ornament, and Beatrice was woman
enough to regret parting with it, especially to such a scamp as the
Major. However, as she recollected Vivian's errand, it might be that it
would not need to be given up. "But then," she thought, "if Major Ruck
is arrested, he will certainly not forward my marriage with Vivian, as
out of revenge he will hold his tongue."
With the necklace in her hand, she went across to the counting-house
carriage in order to make a packet of it and seal it up. The place
was chill and dismal in its desolation. Beatrice closed the door and
seated herself at the desk, looking about for a sufficiently thick
sheet of paper in which to wrap the jewel. Hardly had she found one
when she heard a grating noise, and turned her head to see the sheet
of galvanised tin, upon which stood the stove, slip aside. The next
moment, and she saw the red head of Waterloo protrude from the hole.
"You!" cried Beatrice, starting to her feet, and her blood ran cold
when she thought of what the reptile had done.
"Yuss," said Waterloo, who looked haggard and white. "The Major is
after me. I cut away from Stepney when the plaice was raided by the
perlice. The Major cove got away too, and has been follering me. He
come down by the saime train----"
"He is here?" cried Beatrice interrogatively, bending forward.
She had the necklace dangling from her hand, and in bending down it was
brought within reach of Waterloo. He snatched at it at once and growled
like a dog over a bone. "Yuss," he said hoarsely, while the girl
remained paralysed by his sudden move; "he's after this, and me. He's
goin' to kill me, becas I set the peelers on to the Gang. But he'll not
come by this passage, and I'll slip away. Don't you give the alarm,
miss, or I'll cut your throat."
"The same as you did Mr. Alpenny's?"
"Ho! you knows that, does you?" yelped Waterloo. "Yuss, I did; an' I'll
kill you if----"
Beatrice ran to the door and opened it. "Help! help!" she cried, not
thinking of the mad thing she was doing to provoke this murderer to
wrath. There was no help near--The Camp was completely isolated, and
unless Durban came back at once, or Vivian returned, she was at the
mercy of this wild beast in the lonely place. Waterloo apparently
guessed that he could do what he liked, for he made a spring to get out
of the passage. As he did so he was pulled back, and gave a yell of
alarm.
"Oh lor', who's got me? 'Elp! 'elp! Ah! ow--ow--it's the
Major--it's----" Here he was pulled out of sight. Apparently the
Major, on the track of the man who had betrayed him, had entered the
secret passage also, and was pulling the traitor down into the depths.
Beatrice stared at the gaping black hole, and heard sounds of snarling
and worrying and swearing and fighting going on in the bowels of the
earth. Suddenly she heard the shriek of a man in mortal agony. With an
effort she opened wide the counting-house door, anxious only to escape
from the horrible place; but as the sunshine streamed on her face,
everything seemed to grow black round her, and she fell down in a dead
faint.