FAMILY HISTORY
Like M. Jourdain in Moliere's comedy, Vane was only surprised when he
found virtue in unexpected places, but he certainly was astonished in
another direction when Hench stumbled into his chambers white-faced,
wild-eyed and trembling. The barrister hastily arose and supported his
friend to a chair, and as hastily produced a glass of brandy to hold
to his lips.
"Drink this, Owain," he commanded, wondering what had happened to put
his visitor in such a state. "Don't say a word until you feel better."
Hench drank the whole glassful of fiery liquor, and the colour began
to return to his wan cheeks. He did not speak, as requested, but sat
in the chair with a broken-down look, which startled Vane more than he
showed. Looking anxiously at his friend he came to the sole conclusion
he could come to, seeing what he knew in connection with Hench's
adventure. "Madame Alpenny has found you out?"
Hench shook his head. "It's worse than that," he muttered faintly.
"Then the worse it is the better you should brace yourself up to face
it," was Vane's irritable retort. "Have another glass of brandy,
although I don't approve of Dutch courage myself."
"No. No more brandy. Wait a bit. I'll soon pull round."
Vane nodded approvingly, and turned his back so as to give the man
time to recover himself. He went to the window and looked at the busy
traffic of Chancery Lane, in which thoroughfare his chambers were
situated. The same were directly opposite that gateway which leads
into Lincoln's Inn Fields, through the highways and byeways of
pleasant grounds sacred to the goddess Themis. Hench had evidently
come straight in this way from the offices of Gilberry & Gilberry.
Vane wondered how he had managed to arrive without attracting
observation and being stopped, so wild had been his looks when he
entered the chambers. The journey was very short, truly, but the
appearance of the man was sufficient to warrant interference.
Evidently the unexpected had happened to throw Hench into this
abnormal state, and with a shrug of his shoulders Vane turned to see
how he was getting on. Hench smiled faintly as he met the inquiring
gaze of the barrister and wiped his forehead, which was wet with
perspiration. Then he essayed to speak and apologize, succeeding after
one or two desperate attempts.
"Sorry, Jim, but I couldn't help myself."
"Seems like it," snapped Vane, trying to bully him into calmness. He
had never before seen Hench so upset, as the man was usually very
quiet and self-controlled. Something very bad must have happened to
unnerve him in this way. "I should like to know what is the meaning of
all this," went on Vane crossly. "Upon my Sam, Owain, if I didn't know
you were a sober chap I should have believed that you were drunk when
you came in. I wonder some policeman didn't run you in between here
and Lincoln's Inn Fields."
"I did see people staring at me," replied Hench in a stronger voice,
as the brandy had done its work and he was rapidly recovering his
balance. "Perhaps if I had come by a longer way I might have got into
trouble. But you see, Jim, the distance----"
"Yes! Yes!" Vane dropped into his own favourite chair. "I know all
about that, old son. Come to the point. What's up?"
"I've had a shock."
"Oh Lord! as if the most stupid person--which I am not--couldn't see
as much. I can only conclude that Madame Alpenny has told the police
and you are in danger of arrest. Yet you deny that such is the case."
"I do. Madame Alpenny has nothing to do with this particular matter.
Yes, I have had a shock, but I'm all right now." Hench shook himself
like a dog coming out of a pond and drew a long breath, then continued
to talk calmly. His first remark was a question. "If I did get
arrested, Jim, I suppose my best line of defence would be to say that,
not knowing the dead man, I had no motive to kill him."
"That is my opinion," admitted the barrister. "Well?"
"Well, there is no chance of my taking up that line of defence."
"Why not? You told me that you did not know Squire Evans."
"I did. I don't contradict my admission."
"Then why can't you defend yourself, if necessary, on that score?"
"I'll answer that question by asking you another? Who am I?"
Vane stared and looked wholly bewildered. "Owain Hench!"
"So I thought. Now I learn from Gilberry & Gilberry that I am Owain
Evans."
"What?" Vane uttered the ejaculation in as astonished a tone as Hench
had done in the solicitor's office. "Are you a relative of the dead
man?"
"Yes. I am his nephew."
"Well, the unexpected is always happening," commented Vane, after a
pause of sheer surprise. "But even so, as you did not know your uncle
and never met him, you can still say, if necessary, that you had no
motive to murder him."
"I can't." Owain rose and began to pace the room. "I can't; and that's
the worst of it, Jim. As you say, I did not know him and I never met
him, but evil tongues might give me the lie, seeing what I stood to
gain."
"What did you stand to gain?"
"Ten thousand a year."
"Ten thousand a year!" Vane echoed the words with a gasp of
astonishment. "I say, Owain, those mysterious papers left by your
father did mean a fortune after all, as Madame Alpenny suspected?"
Hench nodded, and sat down again with a disconsolate air. "It is a
dangerous position that I am in. Owain Evans of Rhaiadr with ten
thousand a year, which comes to me now that Uncle Madoc is
dead----that is who I am."
"But you knew nothing about such an inheritance?"
"Who will believe that?" asked Owain derisively. "Already, as the
tramp who asked the way to the Gipsy Stile, I am accused of the crime.
Should the truth of my keeping that appointment become known, the
motive of gaining ten thousand a year will be imputed to me as an
excuse for committing the deed."
"Don't go too fast, Owain," said Vane sharply; "remember only Gilberry
& Gilberry had this information. They can prove that you knew nothing
about the same on the first of July when the man was murdered."
"True enough. All the same I kept the appointment," persisted Hench
stubbornly. "Who is to prove that I did not have a long interview with
my uncle in Parley Wood; who is to declare that he did not admit I was
his heir and that his death would place me in possession of so large
an income? And, remember, Jim, that I am poor. A man would do much to
gain ten thousand a year."
"A man like you, Owain, would do nothing mean or dishonourable or
cruel to gain double the sum," said Vane sharply. "Don't be a fool."
"Am I a fool? You know me, Jim, but other people don't. Supposing
Madame Alpenny tells what she knows to the police and sets them on my
track----"
"She doesn't know your address. You told me so."
"I told you truly. She doesn't. But seeing that I have given my usual
name both at the hotel I stayed at and to the landlady of my lodgings
in South Kensington, there won't be much difficulty in the police
finding me. People will talk, you know. I have shaved off my beard
too, and that might be quoted against me as a sign of my guilt."
"It might," assented Vane restlessly, for he recognized that the
position was a dangerous one. "But it all depends upon Madame Alpenny.
So far she has made no move, and now that you really are rich she will
hold her tongue."
"Provided I marry her daughter, I suppose?" inquired Owain dryly.
"Of course. The woman is an adventuress, as you say, and means to make
money out of you. Marry her daughter and supply her with funds, and
you will place yourself in the power of a possible blackmailer."
Hench's face became dour and obstinate in its looks. "Even if Madame
Alpenny placed me in the dock at the New Bailey, I won't marry Zara,
or give the old woman a single penny."
"I'm with you, old son." Vane leaned forward and shook his friend's
hand. "You can depend upon me to do all I can to pull you through."
"You're a good sort, Jim, to stand by me," said Hench, much moved.
"Pooh! Pooh! Pooh! I take a right view of friendship, that's all,"
said Vane cheerfully. "Come, old man, let us discuss the situation. We
have ample time, as Madame Alpenny will hold her tongue until you
openly refuse the demands she is sure to make. Who gains time, gains
everything, and lots of things may happen before she can place your
neck in a noose."
"I am in a dangerous position."
"You are. I don't wish to minimize the risk, or undervalue Madame
Alpenny as an enemy. But remember, Owain, that she is not your enemy
until you give her cause to be so by declining to marry the girl and
pension Madame. Thus the police will learn nothing for many a long
day, and meantime we can act."
"In what way?"
"Why, in trying to learn who really did murder your uncle." Vane drew
a long breath. "By Jupiter, old son, I don't wonder you were knocked
all of a heap by the information that you had a new relative and ten
thousand a year."
"Oh, it wasn't that which upset me," explained Hench with a shrug,
"but the knowledge that my uncle was the dead man I found in Parley
Wood."
"Gilberry & Gilberry don't know that, I suppose?"
"Of course not. I kept that information to myself. They didn't even,
so far as I could gather, know anything about the advertisement, or
they would have spoken about it. I said nothing."
"Very wise of you. I wonder," mused the barrister, "why your uncle put
in that advertisement?"
"To make you understand, Jim, it will be necessary to repeat my family
history as Mr. Gilberry told it to me."
"That is what I have been wishing you to do for the last fifteen
minutes, old boy. Here, take a cigarette and make yourself
comfortable. When I am in possession of facts I shall be in a better
position to advise you."
"I need advice," sighed Hench, lighting up.
"Well, don't shed tears over it, sonny. Fire away."
Vane's banter and anxious desire to cheer him up did Hench good, and
he produced a large blue envelope out of his pocket which contained
several papers. The young man glanced at these doubtfully, then laid
them on the table. "You can examine them at your leisure," he said,
leaning back comfortably in his chair. "I'll tell you the story
instead of reading it."
"That will be best," assented Vane brightly. "Begin, Scheherazade."
"My grandfather," said Hench conversationally, "lived at Rhaiadr in
South Wales, where his family had resided for centuries. They were
minor princes, I believe, before the first Edward conquered the
country, but dwindled in importance as the centuries went by. When the
family estates came to my grandfather, all he had was considerable
property in Rhaiadr and a tumbledown family seat. He was called Mynydd
Evans----"
"Curious Christian name," commented Vane, lighting a fresh cigarette.
"Yes! Gilberry, who seems to know something of the Welsh language,
told me that it means 'Great.' So my grandfather was really Great
Evans, so called because he was the chief person in Rhaiadr, and
because he was a stout, bulky man, over six feet three in height. He
was discontented with his lot, as he wanted money and power and
position, and the deuce knows what."
"Rather a grabber, Owain, considering that he was the Lord of
Rhaiadr--and that's another queer name."
"It means water tumbling over a rock--a waterfall, in fact," said
Hench, with a nod. "My father mentioned the word to Madame Alpenny and
gave her the translation. Well, to continue. Mynydd Evans collected
what money he could and came to London. There he set up as a merchant,
and being clever, in a wonderfully short space of time he made a large
fortune."
"He must have done so considering he could leave your uncle ten
thousand a year," said Vane emphatically. "But why didn't he return to
Rhaiadr?"
"Mr. Gilberry couldn't explain that. I expect the old man found the
Welsh parish of his ancestors too narrow for his ambition, and perhaps
too far from London and his place of business. He bought the Lordship
of the Manor of Cookley, in Essex, and took up his abode in the old
Grange. There he died."
"And your Uncle Madoc, as the eldest son, became the heir?"
"Now, that is exactly what did not happen. Mynydd Evans had two
sons--my father, Owain, and Madoc--and my father was the elder of the
two. He was"--Hench wriggled uneasily--"he was a rotter, and I'm
breaking the fifth commandment in saying so, Jim."
"Well," said the barrister coolly, "from what you told me of your
father when we met six months ago, I rather think he was a bad lot."
"Unfortunately, yes," said Hench hastily. "But he is dead, so let us
say as little about him as possible. Anyhow, he contrived so mortally
to offend my grandfather with his doings that he was cut out of the
will."
"What did he do particularly shady?"
"I can't tell you," said Hench, with a shrug. "From what Gilberry said
I gathered that it wasn't one shady deed, but the culmination of many
that induced Mynydd Evans to give the estate to my Uncle Madoc. He was
the good boy of the family, and Mynydd Evans knew that his hard-earned
fortune would not be dissipated in his hands. My father was allowed
five or six hundred a year, and told to keep away from England. He did
so and afterwards married abroad--an English governess, my mother. She
died in due time and I was sent to England to board with strangers.
Then I went to a private school, afterwards to Winchester, where we
met, Jim."
"Yes, I know all that. Afterwards your father sent for you and
ultimately died in Paris. You told me about your life since, when you
came back six months ago. But why didn't your father relate your
family history to you? Why did he keep you in the dark?"
"Really, Jim, I can't say, unless it was that he felt ashamed of his
doings. He would have had to tell me that he was not straight, to
account for his being cut out of the will, you know. Anyhow, he saw
Gilberry & Gilberry and left with them those papers, which include my
birth certificate and my baptismal one--things which are necessary to
prove my identity, you know. Gilberry & Gilberry were my father's
lawyers and the lawyers of my uncle and grandfather. They saw that my
school fees were paid and kept an eye on me while my father was in
exile. So I had no difficulty in proving who I was. In fact old
Gilberry knew me from my likeness to my father the moment I entered
the office. It's all right so far."
"But if the money was left to your uncle, how do you inherit?"
"Well, it seems that Mynydd Evans always had some qualms about cutting
off the direct line, and, I suppose, hoped that the third generation
would be better than the second, as represented by my father. Anyhow,
he made a will excluding my father, save for the five or six hundred a
year allowance, and left the whole eleven thousand pounds per annum he
was worth to Uncle Madoc."
"You said it was ten thousand."
"Yes. But of the extra thousand, five hundred went to my father during
his life and the remaining five hundred--or it might be four with six
to my father, as I'm not quite clear about the exact amounts--to Gwen
Evans, my first cousin, Uncle Madoc's daughter."
"Oh! There's a girl, then?"
"Yes, and if old Gilberry is to be believed, she is a very pretty
girl. I understand that she is about twenty years of age. We can talk
of her later, Jim. Anyhow, you must understand that Uncle Madoc only
had the income and the Grange for life. Afterwards it was to go to the
offspring of my father, who was the true heir. I am the sole
offspring, so I inherit."
"I see," pondered Vane. "Well, all that seems clear and reasonable
enough. Only I should like to know why your uncle didn't find you out
and treat you as his heir. He could have done so through Gilberry &
Gilberry, who--as you say--kept their eye on you all the time."
"According to Mr. Gilberry, my uncle hated my father fervently, and
did not at all approve of Mynydd Evans' will, which left the property
to the son of the brother he detested. He made no inquiries, I
understand, and was quite content to enjoy the property and let the
deluge in the shape of myself come after him. Of course he would
rather, as Mr. Gilberry said, have had Gwen get the property, but he
could not, as the will of my grandfather was too clear."
"Well, I can understand that the brothers did not love one another,"
said Vane, after a pause; "family feuds are unfortunately too common.
But what made the old man put in that advertisement?"
"As I didn't mention the advertisement to Mr. Gilberry for obvious
reasons, I could obtain no information on that point," explained
Owain, looking somewhat perplexed. "And why he sought me out in that
peculiar way at the eleventh hour, I can't say. He might as well have
done the thing straight through the family lawyers. Anyhow, I suppose
he thought that the mention of the name Rhaiadr would show me that I
was wanted, although I can't understand why he worded the
advertisement so obscurely. But that my father mentioned the place of
his family to me, I wouldn't have bothered about the matter. Let alone
the fact," concluded Hench after a pause, "that I wouldn't have seen
the advertisement at all but for Madame Alpenny. It was queer, wasn't
it, Jim, that the advertisement should have appeared with the name
Rhaiadr just after she remembered meeting my father over twenty years
ago?"
"So queer," said Vane dryly, "that I wonder if Madame Alpenny had
anything to do with the insertion of the advertisement."
"Oh, that's rubbish, Jim. She never met my uncle, and couldn't have
put in the advertisement on her own, as she didn't know the ropes. My
uncle put it in sure enough, or he would not have been in the wood to
meet me. But why the deuce he should choose out-of-doors as a meeting
place instead of asking me into his own house, I can't understand."
"He was evidently an original," said the barrister, with a shrug. "By
the way, if you died, or if you had never been born, who would inherit
the estate?"
"Gwen, my cousin, of course. The will left the property to the
offspring of the eldest son, and failing such offspring, to the
children of the second son. Why do you ask that, Jim?"
"Well, it occurs to me that the cautiously worded advertisement and
the appointment of so lonely a place to meet in, suggests foul play on
the part of your beloved uncle."
"Foul play?" Hench stared. "What the deuce do you mean?"
"Madoc might have intended to murder you so that his daughter might
inherit."
"Oh, rot!"
"Not at all. We must look at all possibilities. Madoc hated your
father and doubtless hated you also as the son of your father. If he
could have done you out of the inheritance by murdering you, I don't
see why he should have held his hand."
"But you don't know the man's character," protested Hench. "He may
have been a very harmless person."
"A very cunning and plotting person, anyhow," said Vane quickly.
"Else, why the carefully worded advertisement and the strange place
chosen for the meeting. No, Owain, my conjecture may be wild, but
there is some truth in it, I am sure. Madoc intended to get rid of
you, and your lucky stars led some one to get rid of him, before you
appeared on the scene."
"My lucky stars," said Hench, rising. "How can you say that, when I am
in danger of being arrested for his death?"
"There is no danger just now, until Madame Alpenny moves. And when she
does move we may be able to counterplot her."
"She will move as soon as I enter into my inheritance."
"I know that. Therefore, if I were you, I should not take up my
inheritance just yet."
"How can I prevent that? Gilberry & Gilberry will take immediate steps
to place me in possession, and the business is sure to get into the
newspapers. Then Madame Alpenny will see that I am rich and come to
bother me."
"Of course. But you can tell Gilberry & Gilberry to hold over action
until you learn who murdered your uncle. Once you find the true
assassin you will be safe from the malice of Madame Alpenny and all
other people."
"Oh, there is no one can spot me but Madame Alpenny," said Owain
confidentially.
"Not even Spruce?" asked Vane significantly.
"Certainly not. He knows nothing about my affairs."
"You told me that he knew about the papers you were to see on your
twenty-fifth birthday?"
"Oh, yes. But those papers won't connect me with Uncle Madoc's death.
Only the advertisement can do that, and I don't suppose Spruce has set
eyes on it."
"Let us hope not," said Vane uneasily. "But since he heard the name
Rhaiadr when the meeting with your father was explained by Madame
Alpenny, he certainly might put two and two together if he did see the
advertisement. And if the old woman saw it, why shouldn't Spruce see
it?"
"My dear Jim, why manufacture trouble, when we have enough to deal
with as things stand? If Spruce does get on the trail, I shall deal
with him very promptly, I assure you. I'm not afraid of that little
rat."
"Rats can be dangerous, Owain, and Spruce is a meddlesome animal
always on the make. You with your ten thousand a year would be a
god-send to him. Now, if you will take my advice----"
"What is it?"
"This. Tell Gilberry & Gilberry to let things remain as they are,
until you tell them to place you legally in possession of your
property. They can look after the ten thousand odd pounds coming to
you and allow your cousin the four or five hundred a year to which she
is entitled. Then go down to Cookley as Owain Hench and look about for
any possible person who might have knifed your uncle."
"But Gilberry & Gilberry will think it queer."
"What the devil does it matter what they think? So long as they get
their fees all they have to do is to execute your orders. And if you
like, you can make a romance out of the business and tell them that
you are going down to Cookley to see your cousin under your false
name, so as to find out what she is like. Of course, you can hint that
you may fall in love----"
"Oh, rats!" interrupted Hench inelegantly. "I'm not likely to fall in
love. I don't believe that I understand what love is, seeing what a
hash I made of my attentions to Zara."
"You made a hash because you didn't love her, old son. But you may
fall in love with your cousin."
"Don't anticipate the worst," said Owain dryly. "Anyhow, your advice
is good, Jim. I shall tell Gilberry & Gilberry to hold over and will
give them to understand that I wish to see the beautiful heiress I
have dispossessed. As Hench, I shall go to Cookley and look round for
the criminal. With my changed appearance I don't suppose I'll be
spotted."
"No, I think you are safe so far," said Vane, looking at his friend in
a critical manner, "but don't risk seeing that girl at the Bull Inn.
She may recognize your voice. And I'll tell you what, Owain, I'll give
you an introduction to an old aunt of mine, Mrs. Perage, who is a
great swell in those parts. Her respectability may help you to hold
your own amongst the very suspicious, narrow-minded people one finds
in the country."
"Jim, you're a brick."
"Oh, fudge! I'll loot you when you enter into your kingdom," and Vane
laughed uproariously at his small joke. "See if I don't make you pay
up!"