Through the whole of the following day I remained at the Hall, but as
may be imagined the consternation was great when it became known to the
servants, and through them to the countryside, that Mr Harvey Shaw, the
eminently respectable county magistrate, was being searched for by the
police.
Curious how quickly popularity disappears at the first breath of
scandal. The very persons who had been loudest in Shaw's praises were
now the first to hint at dark things and declare that they had all along
suspected him of leading a double life.
Sir George remained, but the two local practitioners went forth to do
their daily rounds. Asta had greatly improved, and though ordered not
to refer to the tragic events of the past few hours, I was allowed to
see her for five minutes about seven o'clock.
Wan and very pale, she was in a blue silk dressing-jacket, propped up
with pillows. As I entered, she put out her small white hand and a
single trembling word, my name, escaped her lips.
I saw in the shaded light that her big eyes were filled with tears--
tears of joy by which mine were also dimmed.
"I've--I've had such a bad dream!" she managed to say. "But, oh! Mr
Kemball, how glad I am that it is only a dream, and that the doctor says
I am getting better."
"I hope, Miss Seymour, that you'll be quite right and about again within
a week," exclaimed Sir George cheerily.
And hearing those words she turned her wonderful eyes full on mine.
What words of sympathy and congratulation I uttered I scarcely know.
How can I remember! I only recollect that when the great specialist
touched me upon the shoulder as sign to leave her bedside, I bent and
kissed her soft white hand.
All through the day and all that evening I remained eagerly expecting to
hear news of Shaw's arrest. Yet, knowing what a past-master he was in
the art of evading the police, I despaired that he would ever be caught
and brought up for punishment.
As I sat smoking in his armchair in the big morning-room I reflected
deeply, and saw with what marvellous cunning and forethought he had
misled Nicholson, Asta, myself--and, indeed, everybody--into a belief
that he was devoted to the girl whom, so many years ago, he had adopted
and brought up as his own daughter.
That decision to kill her lover and afterwards kill her was no sudden
impulse, but the result of a carefully thought-out and ingenious plan.
Whether the huge tarantula had been put into my room at that French inn
with evil intent, or whether it had got loose, and had concealed itself
there, I could not determine. Yet in the case of Guy and Asta there
must, I decided, have been some very strong incentive--a motive which
none had ever dreamed. As regards the incident at Scarborough, he must
have placed the tarantula in Asta's room in secret, and have succeeded
in regaining possession of it. Indeed, inquiry I afterwards made showed
that he had bribed one of the maid-servants while every one was absent
to show him the house, his explanation being that he thought of
purchasing it.
Shaw was a master-criminal. Bold and defiant, yet he was at the same
time ever ready with means for escape, in case he was cornered. His
exploit in the hotel at Aix showed how cunning and clever he was in
subterfuge. He preserved a cloak of the highest respectability, and had
even succeeded in being placed on the roll of Justices of the Peace--he,
the man who regarded murder as the practice of a science, had actually
sentenced poachers, wife-beaters, tramps, and drunkards to terms of
imprisonment?
And yet so clever had he been that the Criminal Investigation Department
had never recognised in the wealthy tenant of Lydford Hall the fugitive
for whom they had so long been in search.
A second night I remained there, so as to be near the woman I loved so
fervently.
Sir George gave me an assurance, as we sat together before we turned in
for a few hours' sleep, that his patient was progressing favourably, and
that I might again see her the next day. Cardew also remained, and as
we three sat smoking we discussed the strange affair, wondering what
motive the man Shaw could possibly have in attempting so ingeniously and
in such cold blood a second crime. But we could arrive at no definite
conclusion. The whole affair was entirely shrouded in mystery.
In the morning I was permitted to see Asta again. She seemed much
better and spoke quite brightly.
"Mr Kemball," she said, after we had been chatting for some minutes,
"I--I--I want to tell you something--something very important--when we
are alone."
"No, not now. Miss Seymour," interrupted Sir George, shaking his finger
at his patient, and laughing. "Later on--a little later on. You must
not excite yourself to-day."
And so, with a pretty pout, she was compelled to remain silent at the
doctor's orders.
I suppose I must have been there a full quarter of an hour, though the
time passed so rapidly that it only appeared like a few moments. Then I
bade her be of good cheer and went forth again.
She had made no mention of the man who was a fugitive.
The only poignant remark she had made was a warning.
"Be careful when you go into my bedroom. There is something in there,"
she had said. But I had only laughed and promised her that I would not
intrude.
About eleven o'clock Redwood arrived, and as he met me in the hall he
pushed a copy of that day's _Times_ under my nose, asking--
"Seen this, Mr Kemball? It concerns you, I fancy. That's the name you
mentioned yesterday, isn't it?"
Eagerly I scanned the lines which he indicated. It was an
advertisement, which read--
"_Re_ Melvill, Arnold.--Will the gentleman to whom Mr Melvill Arnold
has entrusted a certain ancient object in bronze kindly deliver it
according to promise, first communicating with Messrs. Fryer and
Davidson, solicitors, 196 London Wall, London, E.C."