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A SEARCH FOR A SECRET.
A Novel.
BY G. A. HENTY.
IN THREE VOLUMES.
VOL. II.
LONDON:
TINSLEY BROTHERS, 18, CATHERINE ST., STRAND.
1867.
LONDON:
WYMAN AND SONS, PRINTERS, GREAT QUEEN STREET,
LINCOLN'S-INN FIELDS, W.C.
CONTENTS OF VOL II.
CHAPTER I. A FAMILY CONCLAVE
CHAPTER II. SWIFT RETRIBUTION
CHAPTER III. THE SEARCH COMMENCED
CHAPTER IV. EVIL DAYS
CHAPTER V. OVERTURES FROM THE ENEMY
CHAPTER VI. THE PRIEST'S CHAMBER
CHAPTER VII. THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE
CHAPTER VIII. STRUGGLES FOR A LIVING
CHAPTER IX. POLLY TO THE RESCUE
CHAPTER X. ALLIES FROM ALSATIA
CHAPTER XI. THE COUP DE MAIN
CHAPTER XII. AFTER THE BATTLE
CHAPTER XIII. A YOUNG WIDOW
CHAPTER I.
A FAMILY CONCLAVE.
For some little time after Dr. Ashleigh's carriage drove off from Harmer
Place, not a word was spoken. The scene through which its occupants had
passed, had left a deep impression upon them--even upon Mr. Petersfield,
who was by no means of a nature to be easily moved. Dr. Ashleigh felt
greatly the words he had spoken, the wrong which had been committed, and
the thought of his children's altered future. Harry felt more indignant
than hurt; he was too astonished and angry to reflect yet how much it
would affect himself. Perhaps if he had one wish more predominant than
another, it was that the Misses Harmer were but men--men of about his
own age, and that he could get them into some quiet spot--by Jove, would
not he find out where the will was hidden!
But Robert Gregory felt the disappointment with all its force. To him
the blow had been so overwhelming and crushing, that his fierce temper
was beaten down and mastered by it; and he had borne it with a sense of
dull despair, very unlike the passionate outburst of wrath which might
have been expected from him. Only when Miss Harmer had turned upon him
so fiercely, had the blood rushed to his cheek, and had not Dr. Ashleigh
interposed, he would doubtless have given way to a burst of passion; but
with a great effort he had checked himself; desperate as he was, he knew
that Dr. Ashleigh stood in a far higher and better position in the case
than he did himself; it was to his interest that the doctor should take
the lead, for he felt that what hopes remained rested solely in him.
Dr. Ashleigh was certainly favourably impressed with his conduct
throughout this trying interview; he knew that to this man the loss of
the will was a terrible blow, the defeat of all his plots and schemes,
and he was surprised and pleased that he had behaved with so much
self-control, and had avoided creating a stormy and violent scene.
"Mr. Gregory," he said at last, breaking the silence for the first time
as they were entering Canterbury, "I know that this is a grievous blow
to you, as it is to us all. I think you had better follow out your
original plan of returning this evening to your wife in London. You can
safely leave the matter in my hands; I am, for the sake of my children,
interested in this affair equally with yourself, and you may rely that I
shall spare no pains to come to the bottom of it. What search and stir
is made, will come with a far better grace from me than from yourself,
and you may depend upon my letting you know, the instant the slightest
clue is gained to the mystery."
Robert Gregory in a few words thanked the doctor, agreed that such a
course was best, and that at any rate until Sophy was perfectly
recovered, he would leave the affair in his hands.
Dr. Ashleigh then turned to Mr. Petersfield and asked him if he would
come on to Ramsgate, and stay the night with him, to chat over the
affair in quiet, and determine upon the best course to be pursued. Mr.
Petersfield agreed to stop for the night, saying that he must return to
town by the early train in the morning, but that if they would promise
that he should do that, he would accompany them.
As this was arranged, they drove into the station, and here the party
separated; Dr. Ashleigh, Harry, and Mr. Petersfield to go on to
Ramsgate, Robert Gregory to return to London. The latter preserved his
quiet demeanour until he was alone in a railway carriage, and then he
gave full vent to his fury and disappointment. He raved aloud; he cursed
himself, his fortune, and all connected with him; he poured imprecations
of every kind and description upon the heads of the Misses Harmer; and
his last exclamation as he flung himself down in a corner of the
carriage, was, "Let them beware, for by----I will find it, if it is in
existence, if it costs me my life!--or," he added, after a pause, "them
theirs!"
I now resume my own narrative. How surprised I was that evening when
they came in. Of course, just at first I was too much occupied in
kissing Harry--whom I now saw for the first time, as he had only arrived
from the North the evening before--to notice anything strange about
their manner. Then papa introduced me to Mr. Petersfield; and after I
had spoken a word or two to him, and had time to look at all their
faces, I saw that there was a great gloom upon them, greater even than
the occasion warranted; for I had been expecting some little joking
remark from papa about my being a woman of property now, so that I was
the more struck by the subdued expression of his face.
"Is anything the matter, papa?" I asked, quietly.
"Yes, my dear, a great deal is the matter, I am sorry to say. Mr.
Harmer's will is missing."
"Missing, papa!" I exclaimed, almost incredulously.
"Yes, my love; you must not take it too much to heart; it may come to
light yet, but at present it is missing."
I sat down with a faint feeling in my heart. It was not that I cared for
the money for its own sake; but I thought of Lady Desborough, and I felt
a rush of coming trouble sweep round me. However, after a moment, I
drove back the feeling, and asked, in as cheerful a voice as I could,--
"But how is it missing, papa?"
"Ah, my dear, that is the rub. Mr. Harmer had it in the house, and now
it is nowhere to be found. We all believe--indeed, there can be little
doubt--that Miss Harmer has concealed it, or, at any rate, that she
knows where it has been hidden away. I have noticed the last week a
strange manner, a sort of secret understanding between the sisters, but
thought little about it at the time. Now, however, I can understand it
all by the light of the present state of affairs; and I remember now,
what I smiled at at the time as an impotent threat, that Miss Harmer
said, in her passion, that while she lived, Sophy's husband should never
enter the doors of Harmer Place."
"But, papa," I said, "she has a very good life-income; why should she do
such a thing as this?"
"There are several reasons, my dear; but we will talk them over after
tea. I am hungry and tired, and I am sure Mr. Petersfield and Harry are
the same; so let us have tea at once; that will do us all good, and we
shall be able to look at matters in a far more cheerful light
afterwards. What are you going to give us, my dear?"
"Cold pie, papa, and some fresh-boiled mackerel, and a dish of prawns
and some muffins."
"Capital! Now we will go and wash our hands, and make ourselves
comfortable, and by that time you will be ready for us."
They were soon down again, and seated round the table, and papa began to
question Harry about his work in the North; and Harry, who was never
depressed above five minutes about anything, entered into a most amusing
description of his life on the railway; and we were all laughing
merrily, in spite of our troubles, before tea was over. I am sure no one
who had looked in upon us would have guessed that we had that day as
good as lost L50,000 between us. When we had done, papa said,--
"There, my dear, we are all a hundred per cent better. Now, as we have
taken one great consoler--tea, let us take another--tobacco. I am sure
Harry is dying for a pipe; and although I do not often smoke indoors, on
this special occasion I will make an exception. What say you, Mr.
Petersfield?"
"I am very fond of a good cigar," the lawyer said, producing a
cigar-case; "but will not Miss Ashleigh object?"
"Not at all," I said. "Harry always smokes when he is at home, and I am
quite accustomed to it. If I find it too much, I can easily open the
window a little."
The tea-things were soon cleared away, and we took our seats round the
fire. For although the weather was not actually cold, we usually had a
fire in the evening, as, indeed, by the seaside one can do almost all
the year round with comfort. Papa sat on one side, I on a stool by him,
Harry next, and Mr. Petersfield on the other side. As soon as the cigars
and pipe were fairly alight, the table cleared, and we alone, papa
began,--
"Now, my dear, I will answer the question you asked me before tea; and I
shall do so at length, as what I am saying to you may be some sort of
guide and assistance to Mr. Petersfield, who--from his late partner, Mr.
Ransome, having had the management of Mr. Harmer's affairs--does not
know very much of the business."
Papa then explained the whole history of the Harmers nearly as I have
told it, although of course in far fewer words. "Thus you see," he
concluded, "there are several reasons which we may suppose, actuate the
Miss Harmers. The first and principal, is the religious question. The
Misses Harmer were, as I have said, educated in a convent; they were
brought up to, and have ever since lived a life of ascetic severity.
They have been taught to look upon the advancement of their Church as
the thing to be striven for upon earth, the _summum bonum_ to be aimed
at. They were accustomed to consider the Harmer estate as destined to go
to the furtherance of that object; and when Herbert Harmer by the
accidental death of his two brothers, suddenly succeeded to it, they
looked upon it as absolutely stolen from the Church, to which it was, by
the elder brother's will, to have gone. They then left the house, went
abroad, and did not return until the death of Gerald Harmer seemed again
to open the way for them. They have since resided there off and on, in
hopes probably that their brother might return to his old faith, might
die without a will, or, in fact, that some unexpected contingency might
happen. The last three or four years since Mr. Harmer's declared
intentions relative to Sophy and yourselves, they have very much
intermitted their visits, and only returned on the news of their
brother's first paralytic seizure. Thus, you see, the last twenty years
of their lives, may be said to have been given to the endeavour; and the
temptation to them to suppress the will is of course enormous, in order
that the property may come to them, and afterwards, as their eldest
brother intended, to the Romish Church. They have, besides this, another
motive now, and one which, no doubt, greatly soothes their consciences.
They are mercilessly severe upon Sophy, they look upon her as their
brother's murderess, and they therefore have the twofold satisfaction of
punishing her--and so of avenging their brother's death--and of
enriching their own Church."
"Strong inducements, my dear sir," Mr. Petersfield, who was a bachelor,
said, "religion and malice, the two strongest motive powers in the
female, especially the elderly female, mind."
"Mr. Petersfield," I said, "remember that I am here, and that you are
talking treason."
"I apologize humbly, Miss Ashleigh," he said, smiling. "But really," he
continued to papa, "what you say explains the whole matter, and gives it
an even more awkward appearance, in my eyes, than it had before. The
question is, what is to be done?"
"Ah! what is to be done?" papa repeated; "that is indeed a difficult
question to decide upon. I believe the will to be in existence, and I do
not think they will venture to destroy it; it is one thing to allow a
will to lie hid in a secret drawer, another to take it out and
deliberately burn it: one requires a very different degree of courage
and hardihood to the other. No, I do not think they will venture to
destroy it."
"I do not think they will," Mr. Petersfield said; "they quailed so
unmistakably under your denunciations. Do you know, doctor, I give you
great credit for that, it was grand, sir!" and the lawyer rubbed his
hands at the thought. "I give you my word, I never saw anything better
done in the whole of my professional experience."
Harry laughed. "Yes, father, you actually alarmed me at the time; you
were awfully impressive."
Papa could not help smiling a little. "Was I?" he said. "Well, I meant
to be. I the women to be extremely superstitious; I have heard them
confess to a belief in spirits and apparitions; and it flashed across me
that the best thing I could do, to prevent them destroying the will, was
to touch them on that score, and I do think it is safe for a time. One
of the worst features to my mind is the appearance of that Father
Eustace. Where does he come from? Who sent for him? They said he had
come from abroad, and as he is an Italian, they must have telegraphed
for him."
"I think I can find that out," Harry said. "Dick Thornton, who is one of
the telegraph clerks, was at school with me, and I have no doubt I can
get out of him who the message was sent to, and who sent it, even if I
cannot get the words themselves."
"Do," Mr. Petersfield said; "that message might be of great value to
us."
"By the way, Mr. Petersfield," papa said, "there is a point which has
just occurred to me, which may serve to guide us materially in our
search. Do you keep all Mr. Harmer's deeds and papers?"
"Not all; we keep the title-deeds of the property, and that sort of
thing, but he himself keeps the copies of his tenants' leases, and
papers of that kind, to which he may have occasion to refer in his
dealings with them. But why do you ask the question?"
"It is a very important one, my dear sir, and I am pleased with your
answer."
"How so?" the lawyer asked, rather puzzled.
"In this way: if the will had been the only important document at Harmer
Place, it might have been kept in any of the drawers we searched to-day,
and the Misses Harmer might have removed it last week, and either
destroyed or concealed it in their rooms, or in any other place, where
we could never find it. Now, we have every reason to believe it is not
so, for in that case, they would have left the leases, and other
documents, and we should have found them. It is quite clear to my mind,
then, that Mr. Harmer had some secret place of concealment, to which he
alluded when he told your clerk that all the burglars in the world could
not find it; and in this place of concealment the whole of these papers,
together with the will, are stowed away, and the Misses Harmer, who no
doubt know of the existence of this place of concealment, will be
perhaps content to let them remain there, and relying upon the secrecy
of the hiding-place, will not be tempted to destroy the will."
"Capital, my dear sir," Mr. Petersfield exclaimed energetically, "you
are quite right, and it is indeed, as you say, a great point gained.
Before, we had a solitary document to look for, which might be contained
and hid away in any small space, a drawer with a double bottom, a
woman's desk, or sewed up in her stays--I beg your pardon, Miss
Ashleigh--in fact, in any small out-of-the-way corner. Now we have some
regular receptacle to look for, capable of holding bulky documents--at
any rate, a good-sized box. This is indeed a great point gained. There
the will is beyond doubt, for I think the Miss Harmers' faces were quite
sufficient evidence that it is not destroyed; besides, we may reasonably
suppose that the box is not concealed about the Misses Harmer's rooms,
but is where it was originally placed by their brother; the question
arises, 'Where the deuce is that?'"
"I can guess where it is," I said.
"Where?" the other three exclaimed, simultaneously.
"In the 'priest's chamber,' wherever that may be," I answered. "I
remember well, that when I was once talking to Mr. Harmer about the old
times, and old houses and their hiding-places, he said that Harmer Place
was celebrated as having one of the snuggest hiding-places in the
kingdom, and that many a priest had lain hidden there for months. I
asked him if he knew where it was, and he told me that he did; for that
when a boy he had gone into it on some occasion or other with his
father, and that when he came back and took possession of the house, he
had again examined it, and found it such a snug hiding-place, that he
used it as a sort of strong room; he promised that some day or other he
would show it to me, but I never thought to ask him, and, unfortunately,
he never mentioned it again."
"By Jove," Harry exclaimed, "we shall find it yet!" while papa and Mr.
Petersfield uttered exclamations of surprise and satisfaction.
"Sure enough, doctor, the will is in the 'priest's chamber.' The only
question is, how are we to find it, and how are we to get into it when
we do?"
"I should think there can be no difficulty about that," Harry said; "all
we have to do is to go before a magistrate, and swear that the will is
there, and get a search warrant to examine for it."
Mr. Petersfield smiled. "You would find a great difficulty in getting
such a warrant."
"Why so?" Harry asked indignantly. "Do you mean to say that if we knew
there was a will hidden in a certain place, which will left us all the
property, that we should have no right to go in and search for it?"
"It would be a very delicate matter indeed," Mr. Petersfield said, "very
delicate; but still not impossible. By the 7 and 8 statute of the 14 of
George, chapter 29, s. 22, it is enacted that if any person shall either
during the lifetime or after the death of any person steal, or for any
fraudulent purpose conceal any will, codicil, or other testamentary
instrument, they shall be guilty of a misdemeanor, and being convicted
thereof, be liable to various punishments. And by the same statute,
chapter 29, s. 63, it says if any credible witness shall prove upon oath
before a justice of the peace, a reasonable cause to suspect that any
person has in his possession, or on his premises, any property
whatsoever, or in respect to which any such offence (such as stealing a
will, &c.,) shall have been committed, the justice may grant a warrant
to search for such property, as in the case of stolen goods. Now by this
Act it is clear that a warrant could be obtained upon an affidavit that
you believed, as you do believe, that the will exists; but that would
not allow you to pull the house to pieces, and it is quite certain that
in no other way would you discover a chamber built for the purpose of
concealment, and which you say baffled the priest-hunters of the old
time--men who were pretty well accustomed to the finding of this sort of
hiding-place, and who knew exactly where they were likely to be
situated. You would never find it; and even while you were searching for
it, Miss Harmer might enter by the secret door--wherever that may
be--and abstract or destroy the will, without your being one bit the
wiser; or, at any rate, she would be certain after you had given up the
hopeless search and left, to destroy the will to prevent the possibility
of your ever trying again with better fortune. No, your best course is
to find out, first, where the chamber is; next, how to get into it; and
when these two points are discovered, we can arrange about going in and
taking possession of the will without asking any one's leave in the
matter. That is, I believe, our only chance of recovering it--by
strategy. Take one of the servants into your pay, and get her to search
for the chamber. This I leave to you, as of course you are acquainted
with some of the domestics. I do not know that I have anything more
which I can suggest at present. Should anything strike me, I will write
from town, and, as I go by the early train, I will now, with your
permission, retire to bed. You will of course write to me immediately
you find out anything which may seem to you to have the smallest bearing
upon the affair. I should especially advise that you do not hint to any
one your belief in the existence of the will, as it may get to Miss
Harmer's ears; and although, if she believes that no search is being
made for it, she may be content to let it remain for years concealed as
at present, you may be assured that should she believe that you are
working to find it, either she or the priest will destroy it at once."
We all agreed in the propriety of following this advice, and then
separated for the night.
The next morning I got up at six, to make breakfast for Mr. Petersfield
before he started. He was pleased at my having done so. We had not much
time for talk, but before he went, I said,--
"Honestly, Mr. Petersfield, do you think we shall ever find the will?"
"Honestly, my dear Miss Ashleigh, I am very much afraid you never will.
It is a lamentable affair, and I am certain in my own mind that it is in
existence, and that its place of concealment is known to the Misses
Harmer; but under the circumstances of the case, I feel assured that,
even on their death-beds, there is no chance of their ever revealing
where it is. Your only chance, in my mind, is in finding the
hiding-place; direct all your energies to this point; find that chamber,
and you may be assured you will find the will."
When the others came down to breakfast at nine o'clock, I proposed that
we should return at once to Canterbury; but papa said that this affair
would cause so much talk and excitement in the place, that we should be
quite overwhelmed with calls from every one, and have to repeat the
whole story a dozen times a day, which would be a terrible infliction,
and that as he and Harry would be mostly out, I should have to bear the
whole brunt of the attack. So it was settled that we should stay there,
at any rate a week or ten days longer, until the first stir and
excitement were over. So papa and Harry went over every day to
Canterbury, and I remained quietly down at Ramsgate. For some days they
brought back no news of any importance, but one day towards the end of
the week papa came back to dinner alone, and Harry did not arrive until
nearly ten o'clock. As he came in he told us that he had had a long chat
with his friend Thornton of the telegraph office.
"And what have you learnt, Harry?" I asked.
"I will tell you all about it, my dear, directly I have made myself
comfortable;" and he proceeded with the most provoking coolness to take
off his coat and gloves, and to arrange himself in a chair before the
fire. "Now I will tell you. I went down to the station to-day, and there
I saw Dick Thornton. He shook hands with me, and said--what every one
says--'This is a bad job, Harry.' 'A devilish bad job' I answered."
"Never mind the expletives, Harry," I put in, "we can imagine them."
"Don't interrupt me, Agnes, or I won't tell you anything. 'I want to
have a chat with you, Thornton,' I said. 'When can I see you?' 'I don't
get away from here till six.' 'Well, suppose you come round to our place
and have a chat with me when you get away.' 'Done,' he said. Accordingly
I had a snug little dinner cooked, got a bottle of wine up from the
cellar, and at about half-past six Dick came in. After we had dined, and
had talked over the whole affair, I told him he could do me a great
service by telling me whether the Misses Harmer had sent off a
telegraphic message, and if so, where. 'It would lose me my place, if it
were known I had told you, Harry,' he said. 'I know it would,' I
answered; 'but what you say will not go any further; indeed it is more
as a matter of curiosity that we may find out where the priest came
from, than from any action we can take from it.' 'Well, Harry,' he said,
'I will tell you all about it, and you can make what use you like of it;
the place is not so first-rate that I should care very much if I did get
the sack in consequence. One of the servants from Harmer Place--I should
say Miss Harmer's own maid, for she was a stiff foreign-looking
woman--came down upon that Friday afternoon, with a note and a message.
I was alone at the time, for the other clerk happened to be away. The
message was in Italian; it was that which made me notice it
particularly, and when I got home I took the trouble to get a dictionary
to see what it was about. I could not make much of it, and I forget the
Italian words, but the English was--"To the Bishop of Ravenna, Italy. He
is dead--much can be done, if lawful, for the mother--send advice and
assistance." 'And did you get an answer,' I asked. 'Yes, the answer came
on Sunday morning; I always attend there between half-past nine and
half-past ten. It was also in Italian. "All is lawful for the
mother--advice and aid have started."'"
"Father Eustace to wit," papa said.
"That is all," Harry concluded, "that Thornton told me. Of course I said
I was very much obliged to him, and that I would take good care that it
never was known from whom I got the information. And now, I suppose the
mother they talk of means Mother Church, but who is the Bishop of
Ravenna?"
"I remember," papa said thoughtfully, "that about three years ago Miss
Harmer said she was delighted to hear that the confessor, or visitor, or
whatever they call him, of the convent where they formerly lived so many
years, and where they always stayed whenever they went upon the
Continent, had just been made a bishop; and her only regret was that it
was to some place in the north of Italy, whereas their convent was at
Florence. I remember the fact specially, because, after the sisters had
left the room, their poor brother said to me, 'Between you and I,
doctor, I should have been much better pleased to have heard that the
excellent priest had received his promotion to heaven. That man has had
a complete ascendancy over my sisters for many years. He is, I believe,
some four or five years younger than they are, but at any rate he has
been the confessor or whatever it is of their convent, ever since they
were there, twenty-four or five years ago. He is, I judge by what they
say, a gloomy fanatical man, whose ambition is to do service to his
Church, and, I suppose, rise in it--at any rate, he has a complete
ascendancy over them, by his ascetic life and devotion to the Church.
They correspond with him frequently, and I cannot help thinking that his
advice and orders--given in his letters, and whenever they go over
there, which they do constantly--have tended greatly to make them the
gloomy unhappy women they are. They were, it is true, brought up with
extreme strictness and austerity, but I cannot help thinking that much
of that would have worn off, if it had not been for this man's
influence.'
"No doubt," papa continued, "Mr. Harmer was right, and all their actions
are dictated by this priest; it was he who ordered them to make friends
with their brother, at Gerald Harmer's death, and to come over here and
take up their abode,--I know they were at that convent when they heard
the news, and that they had announced their intention of staying there
permanently--and now he has sent over this Father Eustace. The man looks
a religious enthusiast, and there is no doubt that he will never allow
them to change their minds even were they disposed. Altogether, my
children, it is evident the only remaining chance is to find out the
secret chamber. If we can discover that, well and good; if not, it will
be wiser for us, painful as the disappointment is, to give up all hope
of finding the will, and to endeavour to go on as if it had never had an
existence. It is a most unfortunate affair now, Sir John having died."
"It is, indeed," Harry answered, "Sir John would have pushed me on, and
I should have had no difficulty, even without capital, in making my
way."
Sir John, to whom papa alluded, I should say was the engineer to whom
Harry had been articled. Harry's time had run out now three or four
months, and he was only remaining in the North on a small salary,
completing the piece of work on which he was engaged. His old master had
died only a month before this time. When this piece of work was
finished, Harry had intended buying a partnership in some good business,
with the L10,000 Mr. Harmer had promised him for the purpose.
"Yes, it is very unfortunate his having died," Harry said; "unless one
has a good patron of that sort to push one on, it makes up-hill work of
it. Not that I care much; I can fight my way well enough;" and Harry
stretched his great shoulders, and looked as confident and cheerful as
if he had just gained a legacy, instead of losing one. "I shall go back
in another two or three days to my work," he said; "it will not last
much more than another month; and in the meantime I shall be on the
look-out for something else."