HENCH'S DIPLOMACY
Contrary to his expectations, Owain passed a very good night. By this
time he was so accustomed to trouble that it did not seem sensible to
worry over anything until he could meet the same fairly and squarely.
Dangerous as Madame Alpenny and Spruce were, he had no reason to fear
them for a week, since they gave him that period in which to assent to
their terms. The woman wished him to marry her daughter; the man
desired to obtain an income of two thousand a year, secured by deed;
and if he satisfied both, they would hold their peace and trouble him
no longer. But Hench by no means intended to purchase immunity at this
price, as to do so would imply that he was guilty. As he was perfectly
innocent such a course was not to be thought of, and it was necessary
to think of some other means of settling the difficulty. And since
Owain could not decide his course of action on the spur of the moment,
he put the matter out of his head for the time being and retired to
bed immediately. After a good night's rest, he rose greatly refreshed,
and sent Giles to bring Vane to breakfast.
Guessing from the unexpectedness of the invitation that something was
in the wind, Vane speedily arrived, and was waiting in the little
parlour when his friend made his appearance. Hench refused to give any
information until the meal was ended, saying that to mix up business
with pleasure was to spoil both, so the barrister had to possess his
soul in patience until they were enjoying their morning smoke. Then,
as Hench still held his peace, Vane asked him a down-right question
with considerable impatience.
"Why did you ask me to come to breakfast, Owain?"
"To talk over a further complication of this trouble."
"The murder of your uncle?"
"Yes! When I came here last night, Spruce was waiting for me."
"Spruce!" echoed the other curiously. "That crawling little cheat. How
did he find you out, Owain?"
"Madame Alpenny told him where I was, and Bottles told her, and Peter
told his brother. That is how the screed runs."
"Why the deuce couldn't Peter keep his knowledge of your whereabouts
to himself," growled the barrister. "We don't want Spruce here."
"Oh, Peter didn't think he was doing wrong in telling Bottles, as he
knew how his brother was devoted to me. It is Bottles I blame in
giving me away. I don't think he is so devoted to me as I thought. And
I certainly don't want Spruce here, especially as he has come to
blackmail me."
"What's that?" Vane sat up very straight.
"Listen!" and Hench related what had taken place in that very room on
the previous night, so that the barrister was soon placed in
possession of all facts connected with the accusation. Vane sat silent
when his friend ended, digesting the uncomfortable knowledge.
"Little beast!" he said at length. "I knew that he was after no good
in going to Bethnal Green."
"Oh, that was mere chance, Jim. But his cleverness led him to suspect
what Madame Alpenny knew, and he watched her day and night until he
wormed her secret out of her. Well, you have heard; what is your
advice?"
"I should give Spruce rope enough to hang himself," said Vane quickly.
"In what way?"
"By promising him the money. If he accepts he will be condoning a
felony and in that way will get himself into trouble."
"I will get into trouble also."
"I'm not so sure of that," said Vane, looking out of the window in a
musing manner. "Spruce says that you are guilty, to suit his own ends.
But I should not be surprised if he knew the name of the true
assassin."
"Madame Alpenny?"
"I think so. No one but you and that woman knew of the appointment at
the Gipsy Stile. You are innocent, so she must be guilty. And we have
agreed that she had a strong motive to place you in possession of the
property straight away. Yes, I truly think that she struck the blow,
thus giving you the money at once and getting you under her thumb. She
killed two birds with one stone."
"Don't be in such a hurry," said Owain dryly. "The appointment was
advertised in the newspaper shown to me by Madame Alpenny. Other
people may have gone there on the chance of getting something."
"Other people had nothing to gain by keeping the appointment, Owain,
much less by murdering the old man. No. Some one who knew what his
death meant to you is the assassin, and Madame Alpenny alone possessed
that information."
"True enough. Well, and what do you propose?"
"Send that man you sent to me for Spruce, and ask him to come here at
once."
"For what purpose?"
"We can make a bargain with him. Instead of giving him the money to
hold his tongue, offer it to him on condition that he reveals the
truth."
"He won't. He's a born liar."
"Oh yes, he will. The chance of getting two thousand a year will
unlock his tongue. He'd sell Madame Alpenny or a dozen like her to
line his own nest."
"It's not a bad idea," said Owain, as he left the room to speak to
Giles. While he was absent Vane began to think of Peter, the page, who
was the brother of Simon, surnamed Bottles. It seemed to him that
these two boys knew of something in connection with the matter, as
they appeared to take a great interest in the doings of Hench. The
barrister resolved to speak to Owain on his return, and did so
immediately he came back with the information that Giles was now on
his way to the Bull Inn. "You say that Bottles was devoted to you,
Owain," said Vane reflectively.
"I thought so, but since he has given me away to Madame Alpenny I have
my doubts of his honesty."
"Hm! I don't know. A hero-worshipper doesn't throw off his allegiance
so lightly. Bottles promised to hold his tongue?"
"Yes! Really, though, Jim, there was nothing for him to tell."
"Not when you left Bethnal Green, I admit. But there has been
something to tell since, and he has told it, to wit your whereabouts,
which you did not wish to be known to that old hag. Bottles must have
some reason for acting as he has done. If I were you I would go up to
town and see him."
Hench nodded. "I intend to, and to see Madame Alpenny at the same
time. Our conversation ended rather abruptly in the churchyard, and I
want to make it quite clear to her that I suspect her of being the
guilty person."
"Quite so. And if we succeed in frightening or bribing that little
animal Spruce, you will have more grounds to present to her as to the
truth of your accusation. We're travelling along a dark path, Owain,
and the deuce knows what we will find at the end of it."
"A gaol for Madame Alpenny and a church for me and Gwen to be married
in, Jim," said Hench promptly. "But it is a dark path as you say, and
I have got on to it in the most unexpected manner. I wish I had called
to see you before coming down here on that night. Had you been with me
all this trouble would have been avoided."
Vane quite agreed. "In dealing with people like Madame Alpenny and
Spruce it is always best to have a witness. That is why I think that
the wisdom of seeing Spruce in company is apparent. Hullo! here he is.
Doesn't he look like Solomon in all his glory, the slimy little
reptile?"
It was indeed Spruce who had just clicked the gate and was sauntering
up the short garden path. As the day was very warm, he was
appropriately clothed in a suit of cream-coloured serge, with brown
shoes and a straw hat. His whole appearance was spic and span, and he
looked more like a cherub than ever with his pink and white face. No
one would have thought that this innocent blue-eyed youth was such a
despicable little scoundrel. His purple necktie, his purple scarf, his
purple socks, and the purple band round his hat, were all in keeping
with his quality of a Nut. He even wiped his heated face with a purple
bordered pocket-handkerchief, and when he came into the room the same
wafted a delicate perfume abroad which made Vane growl with disgust.
"What the dickens do you use scent for?" he asked irritably.
"Vane!" said the Nut, not very well pleased to come across one who
knew all about his card-table delinquencies. "You here?"
"A pleasant surprise, isn't it, Spruce?" sneered the barrister, who
ardently desired to kick the creature into a dusty heap on the road.
"Oh, I don't mind meeting old friends," said Spruce, recovering his
impudence. "I'm not your friend, neither is Hench."
"Well,"---Spruce shrugged his elegant shoulders, "let us say old
schoolfellows."
"You are a disgrace to Winchester!" raged Vane, scowling. "A cheat and
a sneak, a liar and a thief. That's what you are."
"Thanks. Any more names?"
"I may as well add blackmailer," observed Hench coldly.
"In that case I can call you a murderer, which is a worse name!"
snarled the Nut, looking very ugly.
"I am not. You are lying as usual."
"Don't insult me too much, Hench. You seem to forget that I am
top-dog."
"So far you certainly are. Top-puppy, I should say. Sit down and let
us get to business."
Spruce still stood by the door in what he considered was a haughty
attitude, and frowned impressively. "I don't see what Vane has to do
with any business between you and myself," he said sharply.
"Vane is my friend, and I have asked him here to deal with the matter
about which you spoke last night."
"You seem ready to take the whole world into your confidence," said
Spruce insolently, dusting a chair with his handkerchief before taking
a seat. "If you act in that way I can't protect you."
"Wait till you're asked," said Vane tartly. "Good Lord, the idea of
your protecting any one; unless," he added significantly, "it is
Madame Alpenny."
"What do you mean by that?" asked the Nut, visibly discomposed.
"Oh, I think you know quite well what I mean, Spruce. You accuse Hench
here of murdering his uncle?"
"Yes, I do. And I'll tell the police as much if he doesn't pay my
price. The police would give a good deal to find the tramp who asked
the way to the Gipsy Stile on the night of the first of July."
"How can you prove that Hench is the tramp?"
"By his own admission."
"And if he does not make that admission in open court?"
"Then I'll leave it to the barmaid at the Bull Inn. She cannot
describe our friend's appearance very well, as she is stupid and the
tap-room was badly lighted when she saw him. But she declares that she
would know his voice. Mr. Owain Hench would then have to prove what he
was doing on the night in question, and I don't think that would be
easy."
"It certainly would not be easy," said Hench coolly. "I have admitted
that you can make out a very good case for the prosecution. All the
same you are perfectly aware that I am innocent."
"What makes you say that?" asked Spruce quickly and--as Vane
thought--in a somewhat anxious manner.
"Because I think you know who is the guilty person."
"Do I? That remains to be seen."
"Spruce," said Vane in a menacing manner, "you are playing a very
dangerous game, and let alone the fact that you are trying to
blackmail Hench, you run the risk of condoning a felony."
"Ah!" said the Nut quickly. "Then you suggest that our friend is
guilty?"
"Nothing of the sort. I suggest that you pretend to believe him guilty
to get this money. But you know perfectly well that he is not."
"Do you mean to insinuate that I know who murdered the Squire?" asked
Spruce, with a fine show of indignation.
"Certainly I do," retorted Vane smartly. "Don't put on frills. In my
opinion Madame Alpenny, who knew all about the advertisement and the
property, is the guilty person. But, as she isn't worth powder and
shot, you are trying to fasten the crime on to Hench's shoulders."
"And I can, Mr. James Vane, as you and he shall find."
"Oh!" said Hench cynically. "And you really expect me to pay you two
thousand a year to refrain from doing so? I won't."
"You won't?" Spruce was plainly taken aback.
"No. Rather than do so I shall go to the police and tell my story.
Better be in the hands of the authorities than in yours."
"You won't dare to do what you say."
"Oh yes, I dare. My conscience is clear, so I am willing to stand the
brunt."
Spruce was plainly embarrassed by this defiance and did not very well
know what to say or do. If Hench acted as he threatened to do, there
would be no money for the Nut, and perhaps an action against him as a
blackmailer. He was shrewd enough to see this, and therefore shuffled
his cards so that he might not drive his proposed victim to
extremities. "What do you wish me to do, then?" he asked sullenly.
Before Hench could reply Vane, who was looking out of the window,
turned round sharply. "There is Peter," he said, glancing at his
friend. "What the deuce is he hanging round your cottage for?"
The answer came from an unexpected quarter. "Peter is waiting to see
me," said Spruce with dignity. "He was at the Bull Inn when your
messenger came and I told him to wait until I returned. I expect he
has followed me here and expects me to come out soon."
"What are you seeing Peter about?" questioned Hench sharply.
"That is my business," snapped the Nut sulkily.
"Mine also. Peter is the brother of Bottles, who is employed by Mrs.
Tesk, and both the boys are meddling in matters which do not concern
them. What does it all mean?"
"You had better ask the boy in and question him," sneered Spruce
coolly.
"I shall do so after we have dispatched this affair," said Hench
sharply. "You ask me what I wish you to do. I reply, clear my
character."
"How can I do that?"
"In a way best known to yourself. But you are well aware that Madame
Alpenny is the guilty person."
"I am not."
"Don't tell lies. It is better worth my while to pay you two thousand
a year to prove her guilty and me innocent, than for me to give the
income to you merely for the sake of your holding your tongue. That's
a thing you never did and never will do."
Spruce considered. "If I prove Madame Alpenny to be guilty," he said,
with a greedy gleam in his eyes, "will you pay me the two thousand a
year?"
"I'll think about it."
"Then I do nothing. To be quite plain, I _can_ clear your character in
the way you say----"
"Ah, I knew you were lying."
"----But I shan't do so unless you agree, in the presence of Vane, to
give me my price."
"It is too large a price," grumbled the barrister. "Large or small, it
is what I want."
"I'll give you one thousand a year if you----"
"Two thousand."
Hench looked at Vane and Vane at Hench, as both were uncertain how to
act. A very difficult question had to be threshed out. Owain was
unwilling to pay blackmail, yet if he did not there was bound to be
trouble. If he did he was quite certain that Spruce could clear his
character. For an honourable man the position was very trying, but
there seemed to be only one way out of it.
"Very good," said Hench with an effort. "You must have your price,
Shylock, as my life and liberty are more to me than money, and there
is no denying but what you have me in a cleft stick. I promise to give
you two thousand a year if you remove all danger from me of being
accused."
"I can do that."
"Then you know who murdered my uncle?"
"I do. Madame Alpenny is guilty, as you thought. But I alone can prove
her guilt. I have your promise in Vane's presence to give me the
income?"
"Yes," said Hench with another effort, for he hated giving way thus
ignobly to this scoundrel. "You have my promise."
"You hear, Vane? I shall call you as a witness in case of
non-payment."
"I hear," said the barrister, smoking phlegmatically. "I am surety for
Hench's good faith. You shall be paid, you rat. Now prove to us that
you can have the woman arrested."
Spruce drew a long breath of relief, as things were now going exactly
as he wished. Like the traitor he was, he gaily went to work and sold
Madame Alpenny's secret to gain the money. "She came down to see Evans
after she knew that Hench was his nephew."
"I know that," said Owain quickly. "Tell us something new."
"All in good time," said Spruce smoothly. "I made her confess how she
arranged with Evans about the advertisement and how to draw your
attention to it."
"Why was the appointment made in Parley Wood instead of in the house?"
asked Vane, whom the problem had frequently perplexed.
"I can't tell you. Madame Alpenny never explained that to me. All I
know is that she laid the trap for Hench to fall into, and he did."
"Only to find that my uncle was dead."
"Of course," said Spruce, turning towards Hench with raised eyebrows;
"that was the trap. She intended to accuse you, and thus force you to
marry Zara so that she could handle the money."
"That I also know, and she did accuse me. Well?"
"Well, she came down here by the same train as you did, and while you
were at the Bull Inn she went on to Parley Wood and murdered the
Squire."
"How can you prove that?"
"Very easily." Spruce rose from his chair, and going to the window
beckoned in the page. "Come here, I want you!" he cried.
Peter started and seemed very much inclined to run away. But after a
pause he braced up his courage and entered the house. Shortly he was
standing before the three men, twisting his cap and looking very
nervous. His likeness to his town brother was more apparent than ever,
and Hench winced to think how Bottles had betrayed him. He had always
believed that he could trust the boy to the uttermost.
"Peter," said Spruce, sitting down again and enjoying his position of
dictator, "you must tell this gentleman what you told me."
"If Simon wishes me to," blurted out Peter.
"He does wish you. I brought you that letter from Simon telling you to
do whatever I asked you. Isn't that so?"
"Yes, sir." Peter flushed and quivered, and wriggled in a most uneasy
way. "Well, then, tell them what you told me about Madame Alpenny
coming to Cookley on the night when Squire Evans was murdered."
"Simon sent me a telegram telling me to watch for her," said Peter,
speaking to the three generally. "And as I knew how she was dressed I
easily did so, even though she wore a veil."
"How did you know her dress?" asked Hench sharply.
"Well, sir, when Simon came down here for his holiday he told me as
he'd follered Madame Alpenny, who was up to some game. I met him then
at the station, when he told me, and he follered her to the Grange. I
follered him and hid in Parley Wood outside because Simon told me to.
He watched at the gate. She saw the Squire and then came out, and
after passing Simon she went into the wood follering the path to the
Gipsy Stile."
"What did she go there for?" questioned Vane.
"To see the Squire."
"But she had seen him in the house."
"So she had, but he came to her at the Gipsy Stile afterwards. Both
Simon and I follered and hid to listen. The Squire said as he would
put in an advertisement asking 'Rhaiadr' to meet him at the Gipsy
Stile, and said as he brought her there to see the meeting-place. When
Madame Alpenny examined it and the Squire showed her how to get to it
from the church she went away, and the Squire he returned to his
house. Simon and me saw Madame Alpenny go to the station and catch the
train to town. That was all that happened at that time. So you see,
sir, how I knew how she was dressed."
"I understand, though it is difficult to know why your brother
suspected her."
"Oh, Simon is sharp, sir, and he saw she was up to some games. He'll
tell you all about it."
"I'll see to that," said Hench grimly. "I'll have no more of this
underhanded work. Well, go on. What about the second occasion when you
saw her?"
"Simon sent me a telegram saying as she was coming by a perticler
train and to watch her at the station. I went there and saw her in the
same dress, so I knew her in spite of the veil. Simon was there too,
but he couldn't wait to speak to me, but just follered her, waving me
back. I follered them as far as the church and waited there. Madame
Alpenny, with Simon after her, went into the wood, and after staying
there for a long time she came out and ran for the station."
"Was Simon following her then?" asked Vane, alertly.
"No, sir. He was still hiding in the wood, I think. I hid in the
churchyard behind a tomb, and Madame she ran past me. I waited in the
churchyard for Simon, and later I saw you, sir."
"Me!" said Hench, starting up. "Yes, sir. You went through the
churchyard and along the path. When you got into the wood Simon came
running out as white as death, and told me as Madame Alpenny had
murdered the Squire. He made me swear to hold my tongue, lest I and
him should get into trouble. Then he went off to catch the train to
London and I went home."
"Why didn't you tell the police all this?" asked Hench, frowning.
"Oh, I couldn't, sir," replied Peter in a most ingenuous way. "Simon
made me promise not to in case we'd both get into trouble. But as he
wrote saying I could tell Mr. Spruce I have done so, and as Mr. Spruce
says I can tell you I have----"
"There! There!" Spruce waved the boy into silence. "That is enough.
You can go, and hold your tongue. Simon's orders, remember. Well,"--he
turned to the two men,--"do you see how I can prove your innocence and
Madame Alpenny's guilt?"
"Yes," said Hench thoughtfully. "As Peter here saw me when I entered
the wood, and Simon told him that the Squire was already dead, I see
how my character can be cleared. Well, Spruce, I shall go to town and
see the woman and the boy. When I settle with them I shall see you
about your reward."
"Don't you try and sell me," threatened Spruce, putting on his hat.
"If you do it will be the worse for you."
"Pah! Get out, you little swine," said Vane contemptuously, and the
Nut departed considerably pleased with himself in spite of the
scornful epithet.
Peter lingered behind. "See Simon, sir. He'll explain," he said in a
whisper.
"Oh, I'll see him. But he's a little Judas," said Hench angrily.
"No, sir. He ain't a Judas," said Peter, speaking grandiloquently.
"Simon's as true to you as a needle is to the North Pole." And then he
ran away hastily, evidently afraid of being questioned further. Hench
let him go.