BLACKMAIL
After the reconciliation between the lovers nothing remained but to go
into the garden and announce that Mademoiselle Zara's errand had been
wholly successful. Gwen was now quite amiably disposed towards her
rival, and was indeed very thankful to her for the peacemaking
explanation. Along with Hench she went into the hot sunshine, and as
they walked across the lawns towards the glade where they were likely
to find the others, Owain warned Gwen that Zara was wholly ignorant of
her mother's schemes. "Only you and I, Mrs. Perage and Jim Vane, know
about her accusation," said the young man seriously. "So don't hint a
word of the business to Zara."
"Of course I won't," agreed Gwen readily. "But what steps are you
going to take, Owain, in order to counterplot her?"
"Madame Alpenny? Well, I haven't any idea in my head just now, and, at
all events, she has given me a week to think over things. Let us leave
matters as they are until to-morrow, and then we can call a council of
war and see what is best to be done. There's no doubt that Madame
Alpenny has me in a tight place."
"She has," said Gwen cheerfully. "But we may be able to turn the
tables on her."
"In what way?"
"I don't know," mused the girl. "It seems to me that this woman knows
more about the death of my father than she will admit. She may be
guilty herself."
Hench shook his head. "I have some such idea myself, and yet it seems
impossible. What had she to gain?"
"A fortune through you," said Gwen promptly. "By means of that
advertisement which brought you to the Gipsy Stile, she implicated you
in the murder, which she may have executed before you arrived. Once
under her thumb, she hoped to compel you to marry Zara, and so would
have gained control of the money."
"I am not under her thumb yet," said Hench grimly. "And what is more,
I don't intend to be, strong as is her position. Whether she is guilty
or innocent I can't say, as I am ignorant of her doings on the night
of the first of July. But I should like to know, Gwen, why your father
put that advertisement into the papers, and why he appointed the Gipsy
Stile as the place of meeting?"
"I can't explain," she answered doubtfully. "My father never said a
word to me about the advertisement, or, indeed, about Madame Alpenny's
visit. I asked him who she was and he told me to mind my own
business."
"Well, Madame Alpenny can explain, as I believe she suggested the
advertisement dodge herself." Owain reflected for a moment. "There's
something queer behind all this, Gwen, and when we learn what that
something is, I daresay we will find out who murdered your father. And
then----"
"Hush," said Gwen suddenly, as they turned round the corner of a green
alley which ran between high box hedges. "Here they are."
As a matter of fact the lovers stumbled right into the centre of a
group consisting of Mrs. Perage and her guests. They all appeared to
be smiling, and the smiles grew very broad when the reconciled couple
came towards them. Mrs. Perage caught Gwen by the shoulders and looked
into her tell-tale blue eyes.
"Is it all right, you nuisance?" she demanded gruffly.
"All right!" assented Gwen, giving her a kiss. "Thanks to----"
"To me," cried the dancer gaily. "I am the goddess of Peace."
Hench took her hand and kissed it. "I can never thank you
sufficiently."
"I don't require thanks, Mr. Hench. But did I not tell you that when
you really fell in love you would understand how wholly different it
was to your feeling for me?"
"You did, and I have learned the difference. Admiration is moonlight,
and love is the most glowing of sunshine."
"How poetical," said Vane with a shrug.
"And how true. Jim, I have to thank you for bringing Mademoiselle Zara
with the olive branch. Bless you, as a friend in need."
"Bless Aunt Emma, rather, old son. She suggested the idea."
"It seemed the only way of convincing a stupid man," said Mrs. Perage
lightly. "However, all's well that ends well, so let us go in and have
some tea. Our visitors have to leave in an hour."
All this time Bracken, silent according to custom, was smiling amiably
at the man he had at one time considered his rival. Now he advanced
and shook him by the hand, much to the approval of Zara, for Bracken
had given her considerable trouble over Hench's attentions. Mrs.
Perage, still holding on tightly to Gwen, was walking in front,
together with Vane, so Owain had the pleasant task of escorting Zara
and her lover to the house. He was glad of this, as he wished to say
something and repay the dancer for her kindness.
"When are you two going to be married?" he asked abruptly.
Zara sighed. "I don't know," she confessed sadly. "Ned expected to get
some money from his mother, but she died without leaving any. Neither
I nor Ned make enough money to keep ourselves and my mother, so we
can't think of marrying for a long time."
"Madame Alpenny seems to be the stumbling block," mused Hench
thoughtfully.
"She is," declared Bracken in a gruff, rough way. "Zara and I could
manage by ourselves on what we earn, if it wasn't for that cattish old
woman."
"Ned! Ned! Don't call names. After all, my mother is my mother."
"She is very selfish, and makes you miserable to please herself," said
Bracken crossly. "I shall never make much money as I am not a genius
as you are, Zara. If you could only get the engagement you deserve you
would make sufficient to settle your mother, and then we could get
married."
"Allow me to see to that," said Owain quickly. "See here, Bracken, and
you, Zara, you may not know it but I am a rich man."
"I am very glad," said the dancer honestly. "You have made money,
then?"
"I have inherited money--a large income. I owe you much, as but for
you things would not have been squared."
"It was the least I could do, Mr. Hench."
"It was a very great deal to do, as the task was a delicate one.
However, what I mean is this, that as you have been my friend you
must allow me to be yours. Therefore"--Owain spoke slowly and
deliberately--"I wish you, with Bracken's approval, of course, to
accept one thousand pounds."
"Oh!" gasped Zara, flushing as red as her cloak. "I couldn't think of
it."
"Nor can I," said Bracken resentfully. "I can keep my own wife."
"My dear people,"--Owain being between them took an arm of each,--"if
you like you can pay me back on some future occasion. Zara, your
mother will bother me to marry you until some barrier is raised which
will prevent your being my possible wife. At present, as you have
stated, you are not able to marry for want of money. Now if I give you
this thousand pounds, which I can very easily spare, I want you to get
married quietly. When your mother learns that you are Mrs. Bracken she
will leave me alone. Then you can give her a sum of money to live on
in the meantime and will be able to rest on your oars and look about
for a better engagement. You see?"
"Yes," said Zara gratefully. "I see, and I am very much obliged. If I
can give my mother half the money she will go to her people in Buda
Pesth and amuse herself with gambling. Then with five hundred pounds
Ned and and I can manage to get to the West End. Money always brings
money, and I am sure that I could get an engagement."
"Didn't your mother go in search of one for you?" asked Hench,
nodding.
Zara's lip curled and she looked more disdainful than ever. "My mother
said that she went, but she never did."
Hench started. "She was absent for a few days, I remember."
"Yes. On business, she told me. But what her business was I never
knew. It had nothing to do with an engagement, however, or I should
have known."
Of course Owain knew very well on what business Madame Alpenny had
been engaged, but he was wise enough to make no remark. Also at the
moment his attention was distracted by Bracken, who had been thinking
in his heavy way.
"If you will allow Zara and me to pay you back the money with interest
at five per cent," he observed, reflectively, "we don't mind--eh,
Zara?"
"No," she rejoined promptly. "I shall take the money with pleasure
then, as it will certainly help us to get married in spite of my
mother's opposition. I am very grateful for your kind help, Mr.
Hench."
"I am only doing what I ought to do," said Owain frankly. "You have
done me a good turn, so it is only right that I should do you and
Bracken one. I shall see my lawyers next week and arrange for the
money to be paid to you by cheque, or in notes, or gold, whichever you
prefer."
"Say a cheque, Hench," remarked Bracken, with a sigh of relief. "I
have a banking account. It's a very small one--still, it is a banking
account."
"Good. I will call at The Home of the Muses some day next week with
the cheque, and meantime you can see about getting married."
"Oh, Ned!" cried Zara.
"Oh, Zara!" cried Ned, and they embraced, even though they were in
sight of the drawing-room windows.
"Well," said Hench philosophically, "I have made two people happy,
anyhow."
"We will be happier if you are happy yourself, you generous man," said
Zara.
"Oh, that's all right," replied Hench hurriedly, for he did not wish
to be thanked or praised. "Come and have some tea. We'll keep this
little arrangement to ourselves."
The visitors were very pleased at the result of their visit, which
they had been far from expecting, and the tea was unusually gay. Gwen
could not show enough attention to Zara, and Mrs. Perage, who had
taken a fancy to the honest dullness of Ned, looked after him in her
brusque way. Owain and his beloved were silent from sheer happiness,
in spite of the thunder-clouds which still obscured the sun, so it was
left to Jim Vane to brighten the party with chatter and gaiety. He was
entirely successful, and the visitors left with a sense of great
enjoyment. Zara looked younger, less fatigued and unapproachable than
usual, while Bracken's stolid good-looking face was wreathed in
smiles. And Hench saw them off at the station with a sense of
thankfulness that he had been able to help them. He was so happy
himself in having gained Gwen's love that he wished every one else to
be happy, and moreover was delighted that he had been able to repay
Zara for her good work. He returned to his lodgings to dress, and then
went to dine at Mrs. Perage's hospitable board.
Gwen wished to hold the council of war after dinner, but Hench
refused. He considered that the day had been quite sufficiently filled
with events, and did not wish to start a discussion which was likely
to be prolonged into the small hours. Gwen looked tired after all the
excitement she had undergone, and Hench himself felt rather weary. The
true fact was that a sense of anxiety lay beneath their surface
gaiety, and they were feeling the suspense more than they thought.
Mrs. Perage and her nephew were also rather silent; so in spite of the
reconciliation of the lovers the evening was rather a failure. With
her usual prompt way of dealing with things, Mrs. Perage sent Hench
away at half-past nine o'clock.
"We are all worn out with bother," she said briskly. "So it is best
for all of us to have a good night's rest and then we can deal with
other and more serious matters to-morrow."
"One serious matter has been put right, thanks to you," said Hench,
looking fondly at Gwen. "It was just as well to take the bull by the
horns," said Mrs. Perage candidly. "And I am glad that Zara proved to
be so sensible a creature. And when you tell Gwen what--what----" she
hesitated, not knowing if it was wise to speak.
"What peril I am in," finished Hench. "Oh, I've done that this
afternoon."
"The deuce you have!" cried Vane, turning from his friend to Gwen.
"And what do you think of the matter, Miss Evans?"
"I don't know what to think," said Gwen promptly. "Save that I believe
Owain to be innocent, and I will stand by him to the end, whatever it
may be."
"Good. And the accusation of Madame----"
"Jim," commanded his aunt sharply, "do hold your tongue. This is not
the time to begin a discussion. To-morrow, when our wits are clearer,
we can talk. Owain, go home to bed. Jim and I will turn our backs
while you take leave of Gwen."
This was not necessary, as Gwen accompanied her lover to the door and
kisses were exchanged in the twilight of the summer night. But the two
were so long in parting that Mrs. Perage had to come on the scene and
fairly shut the door in the face of this lingering lover. Hench went
away, feeling that the sun had vanished from the sky, which was
exactly what the sun should do considering the time. He sauntered home
leisurely, thinking of Gwen and picturing his future life with her. By
the time he reached Mrs. Bell's cottage it was striking ten from the
church tower, and he entered the house yawning with the intention of
going at once to bed. There he could dream of Gwen.
But Owain did not get to his repose so speedily as he expected, for he
found a visitor sitting in his parlour--and not a visitor he was
exactly pleased to see. From an armchair rose the smartly dressed
figure of Mr. Cuthbert Spruce, who smiled amiably when he saw the
astonished look on the face of his host. Hench frowned, very
ill-pleased.
"What the deuce are you doing here, Spruce?" he demanded sharply.
"I have come to have a serious talk with you," said the Nut coolly,
and resumed his seat with the air of a man determined to stay where he
was.
"Then you can clear out and come to-morrow, my friend. I am much too
tired to talk just now." Hench glanced at his watch. "There is a train
at a quarter to eleven which you can catch."
"I am not going back to town this evening, Hench."
"Well, that's your business, not mine. Anyhow, I want you to go now."
"I am staying at the Bull Inn," went on Spruce significantly. "It is
necessary that we should speak now. Better be sensible, Hench, and
listen."
Owain looked at this meddlesome marplot searchingly. He was staying at
the Bull Inn, and that was a place which Hench had carefully avoided
lest he should come into contact with the girl who had seen him as a
tramp. It occurred to him from the significance of Spruce's tone that
the Nut had been making inquiries, and had come to make himself
unpleasant. However, Hench was not the man to be frightened into doing
what he did not wish to do, and he threw off his coat and hat, still
frowning.
"I don't know why you have come here," he said coldly, "or how you
found out where I was living. But----"
"Madame Alpenny told me," said Spruce quickly, and brought out a
cigarette.
"Hang her impudence! Don't smoke. I don't want you to stay."
"Very good." The Nut rose and carefully lighted the little roll of
tobacco. "As you please. But don't say that I did not give you your
chance."
"What the devil do you mean?"
"If you send me away how can I explain?" asked Spruce, with a
supercilious smile. "I have been waiting for quite an hour, and it was
only after a great deal of persuasion that your landlady allowed me to
enter. I believe"--added the Nut, stretching his arms and yawning--
"that she is waiting up, so as to be sure that I have not come after
the spoons."
Hench looked at him hard, then abruptly left the room to assure Mrs.
Bell that everything was all right. After he had sent her to bed, at
rest in her mind about the stranger, he returned to the parlour and
closed the door in an ostentatious manner.
Spruce laughed.
"You are going to let me stay, then," he remarked coolly and sitting
down again.
Hench sat opposite to him with a resolute air. "You don't leave this
room until you fully explain what the devil you mean by dogging my
footsteps in this way," he said sternly.
"Dogged is a good word, or was it dogging? Both are good words. You
will have to be dogged so far as your courage is concerned. And as to
dogging, it is better that I should do that than the police."
"Oh, hang your fantastical chatter!" snapped Hench with a lowering
brow. "Come to the point."
"Can't you see my point now that I have mentioned the police?"
"No," said Hench briefly and obstinately.
"Curious! You are not usually so dense." Spruce puffed lightly at his
cigarette and smiled blandly. "The fact is I am here on behalf of
Madame Alpenny."
"What has Madame Alpenny to do with me, may I ask?"
"Oh, you may ask, and I shall reply with great pleasure. Madame
Alpenny has done me the honour to make me her confidential friend, and
I am now in possession of all facts connected with your gaining of a
large fortune. Most people would be glad to get so much money, but few
people would be ready to gain it at so heavy a price."
Hench winced inwardly but not outwardly, as he did not intend to show
fear in the presence of this little reptile. He saw from the very
audacity with which the Nut spoke that he knew all about the matter
connected with the death of Madoc Evans, and knew also that the
creature had come at this untimely hour to profit by his knowledge.
"You speak in riddles," he said coldly.
"Oh, I think you can guess them," retorted the other man.
"Perhaps I can and perhaps I cannot. But as you hint at mysteries it
is for you to explain them. Be as brief as you can. I can't wait up
all night listening to your twaddle."
"Very bravely carried off, Hench," taunted Spruce, his eyes looking
angry. "But such bluff doesn't deceive me. I know too much for you to
pretend ignorance."
"What you know I am waiting to learn," said Hench, setting his teeth.
"Why give me the trouble to explain?"
"Stop your fencing and come to the point. You want money?"
"A great deal of money. The price of my story is costly."
"Really!" said Hench sarcastically. "Well, you were writing a story at
Bethnal Green. At least that was the lie you told me to account for
your presence in the boarding-house."
Spruce laughed, in no wise offended, as his moral perceptions were
very much blunted. "I am writing a much better story than I
anticipated. I told you that I came to Bethnal Green to find material.
Well, I have found material of the best. I shall sell this story for a
good price," he concluded, looking meaningly at his listener.
"And the price?"
"Well, I think about two thousand a year."
"Moderate," said Owain shortly and not quailing.
"I think so myself, seeing that I shall have to pay Madame Alpenny at
least two hundred a year out of it."
"And keep one thousand eight hundred a year to yourself?"
"That is my intention," rejoined the Nut coolly. "Spruce, you
are--what you are, as it is impossible to find a name low enough to
suit you. And how am I to pay this two thousand a year?"
"Out of the ten thousand per annum your uncle left you."
"Humph! You seem to be well informed."
"Madame Alpenny informed me, so naturally I am in possession of many
facts which you would prefer to keep secret. Come, Hench, it is no use
our beating about the bush, as we understand one another, so----"
"Pardon me, we don't understand one another. What am I to get for this
two thousand a year blackmail?"
"Don't use nasty words. It won't help you to be nasty. I'm top-dog,
Hench, so you had better give in."
"Two words go to a bargain," said Hench calmly. "What am I to gain in
return for this two thousand a year?"
"My silence."
"About what?" Spruce started up, looking peevishly angry. "Don't try
me too far, Hench. You know quite well what I mean. A word from me to
the police and you will be arrested straight away for the murder of
your uncle."
"Oh, indeed. You seem to be very certain of my guilt."
"Whether I am certain or not doesn't matter," retorted the other. "I
hold you in the hollow of my hand."
"Explain how you do that."
"Oh, very well," said Spruce, sitting down again. "If you will have
chapter and verse I am willing to oblige you, although I think you are
wasting my time."
The Nut drew a long breath and then proceeded to inform his host of
his discoveries. These had to do with the insertion of the
advertisement, with the visit of Hench on the fatal night to Cookley,
and with the inheritance which the untoward death of Madoc Evans had
brought the young man. "So you see," concluded the Nut, "that I have
only to go to the police with this tale to ensure your arrest."
"I quite admit that, Spruce. In fact, I admit the truth of all your
story. I should like to know how you found out all about the business.
You could scarcely go to Madame Alpenny and force it out of her
without some previous knowledge."
"Well, it was my clever brain that gave me the tip," said Spruce
coolly. "That conversation in which the word 'Rhaiadr' was used gave
me the idea that the old woman knew something about you. I watched her
and followed her when she went away. She came down here and saw Evans
at the Grange. I waited until she got home later, and then told her
that I had followed her. She was so alarmed lest you should know of
the visit--as your doing so would have upset the apple-cart--that she
told me about the advertisement. When it appeared I saw it and made
sure that you would obey it. I followed you to that hotel near the
British Museum, but you left there and I lost sight of you. Therefore
I lay low until I got evidence of your visit to Cookley on the night
of the first of July. I saw all about the murder in the newspapers and
believed that you were guilty. But I was not sure until I went to-day
to the Bull Inn and questioned that girl about the supposed tramp.
From what she said, vague as her description was, I knew that you were
the tramp in question, so came on here to let you know. I believe that
you asked the way to the Gipsy Stile and went straight there to murder
your uncle."
"Oh!" said Owain, unmoved. "Am I the sort of person to murder an old
man?"
"I don't say that you killed him in cold blood," replied Spruce
hastily. "You doubtless had a quarrel and stabbed him before you knew
what you were about."
"One moment, Spruce. I am not in the habit of carrying about
carving-knives to kill people. And I had no reason to kill my uncle,
as at the time I did not know that he was any relation."
"Oh, he told you that at the time you met him."
"I never met him. I found him dead." Spruce started up in a fury and
snatched at his hat. "What's the use of your dodging in this way. I
say that you murdered him, and if you don't promise to pay me two
thousand a year and secure the same to me by deed, I shall go to the
police and procure your arrest. You know I can do it."
"You can. I fully admit that just now you are top-dog," said Hench in
quite a bland way. "And you are willing to condone my felony for the
money?"
"Yes! You can kill the whole population of Cookley for all I care."
"Oh, I quite understand that. Well, to-night I shall say nothing. You
must give me one week to consider matters."
"I don't mind,"--Spruce made for the door with a shrug,--"but don't
you try and bolt or I shall put the police on to you."
"Naturally! You have made everything perfectly clear to me.
Good-night."
Spruce walked into the passage and opened the outside door.
"Remember," he said.
"Good-night," repeated Hench, and shut the door in the face of the
blackmailer.