MRS. PRISOM'S STORY.--CONTINUED.
Fanks restrained his joy at this important discovery; he was afraid
lest Mrs. Prisom should cease to speak should she think that the
revelation was of consequence to him. That she should have the same
symbol as that possessed by Hersham, as that attempted on Sir Gregory,
appeared to hint at its owning a certain significance. What that
significance might be he now set himself to discover.
"Why did Sir Francis choose a cross to tattoo on your arm, Mrs.
Prisom," he asked, as the old lady pulled down her sleeve.
"I cannot say, Mr. Fanks. I fancy it was because he could draw a cross
better than anything else. You see it is St. Catherine's cross, with
four arms and a wheel--at least, that is what Sir Francis called it."
"It is St. Catherine's cross," said Fanks, recalling the mark on
Hersham's arm. "Perhaps Sir Francis attached some meaning to it. Do
you know if he tattooed anyone else with the same symbol?"
At this remark Mrs. Prisom suddenly desisted from her occupation, and
not only refused to speak but taxed Fanks with trying to fathom her
meaning for some ill purpose. "Why should you come down here, and ask
questions about Sir Francis Fellenger?" she asked, with a troubled
look; "why do you wish to know all these things?"
There was no help for it. If Fanks wished to learn the truth he would
have to tell her the real purpose of his visit; and then out of love
for the memory of Sir Francis she might do what she could to aid him
to discover the person who had murdered Sir Gregory. Resolving to risk
all on the casting of this die, he spoke out boldly and to the point.
Yet he approached the old lady with a certain amount of caution.
"I have an important reason for asking you these questions," he said,
in an earnest tone, "and I shall tell you my reason shortly. But first
say if you regretted the death of Sir Gregory."
"I regretted it because he was the son of his father, but I did not
care over much for him. He was a bad man, Mr. Fanks, a very bad man. I
loved the father as an old playmate, and as one who was always kind to
me and mine; but the son--ah!" Mrs. Prisom shook her head and sighed.
"You know that he was murdered?"
"Yes; but they never found out who murdered him."
"No; they are trying to find out now. You may be able to help me to do
so."
"Help you?" said the old lady, in a frightened tone. "Who are you,
sir?"
"My name is Fanks, as, you know, Mrs. Prisom. But what you do not know
is that I am a detective, anxious to learn who killed Sir Gregory."
"I know nothing of the murder, sir. I am a simple old body, and cannot
help you in any way."
"Oh, yes, you can, Mrs. Prisom. You can help me by relating all you
know about this tattooing."
"But what can the death of Sir Gregory have to do with an old story of
man's treachery and woman's folly?"
"More than you think. The whole secret of the death lies in the
explanation of that tattooing. Come, Mrs. Prisom, you must tell me all
you know."
Mrs. Prisom thought for a moment, and then made up her mind. "I'll do
what I can," said she. "Those who are concerned in this tale are dead
and gone; and, so long as it does not hurt the living, I see no reason
why I should not gratify your curiosity; but I must ask you not to
repeat what I tell you, unless you are absolutely obliged to do so. It
is no good spreading family scandals, but as you have appealed to me
to help you to revenge the murder of my old, playfellow's son, I will
confide in you."
Fanks assured Mrs. Prisom that he would be as reticent as possible
about her forthcoming history, and would not use it unless compelled
to do so. Satisfied on this point, Mrs. Prisom commenced; at the same
moment Fanks took out his note-book to set down any important point.
"The other person who was tattooed," said Mrs. Prisom, "was Madaline
Garry." Fanks whistled softly and made a note in his book. "Only a
thought which struck me," he explained. "Madaline Garry; was she also
tattooed with a cross?"
"Yes, sir. Madaline and Jane Garry were the daughters of old Captain
Garry, a retired naval officer, who lived in Damington. I knew them
both very well, as we used to meet on terms of equality in parish
work. Jane was the quiet one, but Madaline was a flighty girl, fond of
admiration and dress. She attracted the attention of Sir Francis, and
it was thought at one time that he would marry her. However, he did
not do so, but brought home the lady from Shropshire to Mere Hall.
Still, Madaline must have been fond of him, for she let him tattoo on
her arm a cross similar to this one of mine, I saw it one day while
she was changing her dress, and remarked it. She said Sir Francis had
pricked it on her arm as a sign that she was engaged to him, and that
it was like a wedding ring. I warned her against Sir Francis, and
mentioned the lady of Shropshire to whom he was said to be paying his
addresses. She laughed at this, and said Sir Francis would marry her.
'If he doesn't,' she added, 'I shall know how to avenge myself.'"
"Did she know that you had a cross on your arm also?"
"Oh, yes, I told her; but I never expected to marry Sir Francis, and
he did me no harm. I can't say the same of Madaline. He acted badly
towards her. I don't say that Sir Francis was a good man," added Mrs.
Prisom, in a hesitating manner; "but he was good to me. He certainly
should have married Madaline Garry."
"Did he go about tattooing all the girls he was in love with?"
"He was not in love with me," rejoined Mrs. Prisom, with dignity, "and
I only let him tattoo me because I was a schoolgirl and his old
playfellow. I knew no better then; but Madaline was a grown woman when
he loved her, and marked her with the cross. I suppose it was to bind
her to him;--not that it did much good, for shortly afterwards he
married Miss Darmer, and in a rage at his desertion Madaline took up
with an old admirer--Luke Fielding was his name--and she married him
almost on the same day that Sir Francis led his bride to the Hall."
"Did she ever forgive him?"
"She said she did," replied Mrs. Prisom, with hesitation; "but I have
my doubts of that. At all events, she was stopping at the Hall within
the year of her marriage."
"How was that?"
"Well, you see, sir, in nine months after the marriage Mr. Fielding
died, leaving Madaline with no money and a little child. About the
same time Lady Fellenger died at the birth of the dead Sir Gregory.
Somebody was wanted as a nurse, and Madaline asked Sir Francis if she
could come. She was poor, you see, and wanted money, although after
the death of her husband she was living with her father. At first Sir
Francis would not let her come--feeling ashamed-like, no doubt--but in
some way she prevailed against him, and went to the hall as the nurse
to the heir."
"And what about her own child?"
"She took him also, by permission of Sir Francis."
"Oh! was the child of Madaline a son?"
"Yes. Her son and that of Sir Francis were born almost on the same
day; she insisted that her son should come to the Hall also, so Sir
Francis agreed in the end."
"And Madaline Garry nursed the heir--that is, the late Sir Gregory?"
"She did," assented Mrs. Prisom. "Till Sir Francis was killed, as I
told you, five weeks after the death of his wife. His body was brought
home and buried; but, almost immediately after the funeral, Madaline
disappeared with her child. She was never heard of again; and I have
no doubt that by this time she is dead."
"How long ago is it since she disappeared?" asked Fanks.
"Twenty-eight years, sir. Where she and the child went, I do not know;
for she had no money. Poor soul; I was sorry for her."
"And her sister and Captain Garry?"
"Captain Garry died soon after. Madaline was his favourite child; he
never held up his head after she disappeared. When the Captain died,
Miss Jane went to some relatives in Scotland."
"And the heir?"
"Sir Gregory? Oh, Dr. Binjoy got another nurse for him."
Fanks glanced up in astonishment. "Dr. Binjoy!" he repeated. "Was he
here?"
"Of course he was, sir," replied Mrs. Prisom, with a slight shade of
surprise, "he was at the births of both Madaline's child and Sir
Gregory. Afterwards, when the father of Sir Louis died, he asked Dr.
Binjoy to look after his son, who was sickly. The doctor agreed; and
he has been with Sir Louis ever since."
"Yet now they are about to part."
"It seems strange, doesn't it, sir?" said Mrs. Prisom, "but ever since
Dr. Binjoy has been here with Sir Louis, they have got on badly. I
think it was the chemistry which kept them together; for their
characters are quite unlike one another."
"You like Sir Louis?"
"Yes. But I don't like Dr. Binjoy. No. Not though I have known him for
so many years. He was a lover of Madaline Garry also, but she would
have nothing to do with him. I am glad he is leaving Sir Louis."
"Was Binjoy friendly with Sir Gregory?"
"I can't say, sir. I do not think he had much love for him; because he
was the heir and kept Sir Louis out of the property."
"Oh; and no doubt Binjoy wanted Sir Louis to have the property, so
that he could get a share of the money."
"I think so, sir. They said that Dr. Binjoy was always very gay; and
used to go to London to lead a fast life."
"Who said that? Did you ever go to Taxton-on-Thames?"
"No, Mrs. Jerusalem told me. You know she was the housekeeper of the
late Mr. Garth; and, after his death, she went to keep house for Sir
Louis at Taxton-on-Thames. When Sir Louis came in for the property he
brought her here."
"Is she a native of this village?"
"Oh, yes; she was a school friend of mine, though I never liked her
over much. I believe she was in love with the late Mr. Garth. At all
events, she is devoted to his son. I wonder she left him to keep house
for Sir Louis. But, as poor, young Mr. Garth had no money, I suppose
she had to do the best she could for herself."
In Fanks' opinion, the love of Mrs. Jerusalem for the late Mr. Garth
explained why she was so anxious to benefit the son; but it did not
indicate why she should hate Sir Louis. Mrs. Prisom's next words
enlightened him on this point.
"It is more strange," pursued Mrs. Prisom. "Because Mr. Michael, the
father of Sir Louis, treated Mrs. Jerusalem very badly. Yes, almost as
badly as Sir Francis did Madaline Garry."
"I wonder Sir Francis was not afraid that Madaline Garry would avenge
herself for his treatment," said Fanks, now satisfied as to the cause
of Mrs. Jerusalem's hatred for Sir Louis.
"I think he was afraid," replied Mrs. Prisom, rising and rolling up
her work. "I can't explain what he said to me in any other way."
"What was that?" said Fanks, eagerly.
"I was at the Hall one day, shortly after the death of Lady
Fellenger," said the landlady, "and I saw him in his study. He was
grieving greatly for the death of his wife; but he also told me how
pleased he was at the birth of an heir. While he was talking, Madaline
entered, and spoke about something; then she nodded to me, and went
away. As the door closed after her, Sir Francis looked anxious.
'Nancy,' he said, turning to me--he always called me 'Nancy,'" said
Mrs. Prisom, in parentheses. "'Nancy,' he said, all in a flutter like,
'if it should chance as I die, and anything goes wrong about my son,
remember that cross I tattooed on your arm; and if you want any
further proof, look in this desk.' Just then, we were interrupted, and
he did not say any more. I never saw him again," added Mrs. Prisom,
with emotion, "for he was brought home dead that day week."
"Can you understand what he meant?"
"No, sir," said Mrs. Prisom, rising. "I can only say from the look he
gave the door, that he was afraid of Madaline. What he meant by the
cross and the desk I know no more than you do. But he was wrong in
thinking that Madaline would harm his child--for that was what he
thought, I'm sure--for she went away a week after his death with her
own, and Sir Gregory grew into a fine, young gentleman, though wild,
very wild."
After which speech, Mrs. Prisom, exclaiming that it was close on ten
o'clock, left the room; and Fanks sat meditating over the strange
history he had heard, far into the night. Already he saw a connecting
link between the story of Madaline Garry and the tragedy of Tooley's
Alley.