A TERRIBLE ACCUSATION.
The next day Dora altered her demeanour towards Joad. Hitherto she had
been cold and unapproachable; now she sought his society with smiles,
and quite bewildered the poor man with kindness. If Joad, who was
naturally very crafty, had not been in love, he would have mistrusted
this sudden transformation and been on his guard. As it was, in the
then state of his feelings, he ascribed Dora's changed behaviour to a
desire to be on better terms with one who was bound, owing to the
terms of the will, to come into contact daily with her. In this belief
he reciprocated her advances, and vied with her in amiability.
On her part, Mrs. Tice viewed the comedy with displeasure.
Nevertheless, she made no attempt to interfere. Although she was
unwilling to be an active party in revealing the truth to Dora, yet
she was by no means displeased that the girl should learn it from a
third person. Dora was deeply in love with Allen; and the sooner she
realized that there could be no union between them, the better it
would be. To come to such an understanding, it was necessary that she
should learn the secret. When she was possessed of such knowledge, the
housekeeper was satisfied that, even if Dr. Scott did desire the
match, Dora would refuse her consent thereto. Therefore Mrs. Tice
preferred being spectator to actor. For some days Dora pursued her
amiable tactics, and Joad fell deep and deeper in love. He was well
aware, in his own heart, that this girl, young enough to be his
granddaughter, would never consent to be his wife; but for all that,
he put no restraint upon his feelings. Moreover, he had a weapon in
his hand which he hoped to use with effect. In spite of his belief
that Dora might not accept him voluntarily, he fancied that he could
force her into the match by making use of the weapon aforesaid. But it
was not to be brought into active service save as a last resource.
Meanwhile the comedy of May and December, of Methuselah in Arcady, of
"An Old Man's Darling," went gaily on. Joad paid more attention to his
dress, he drank less brandy, and talked more affably. Instead of
burying himself in the library, he was to be found haunting the steps
of Dora. He loved her very shadow, and was never tired of gazing at
her face. She seemed to him to be the most beautiful, the most
wonderful, the most gracious woman in the world; and he gloated over
her charms like an old satyr. Crafty, astute and worldly as he was, he
fell prostrate at her feet, a debased Merlin entangled in the wiles of
an artificial Vivien.
Dora played her part bravely; but at times it was too much for her,
and she would leave the house to scour the country on her bicycle.
Joad was too old and shaky to accompany her, and she was thus relieved
in some measure from his senile adoration. But, however near she
approached to Canterbury, she never entered the town or sought out
Allen.
"No," she said to herself, when unusually impelled to make the visit;
"first I shall learn the truth. Once in possession of Allen's secret,
of the name of Mr. Edermont's assassin, and I shall know how to act;
till then I shall remain absent."
But, with all her diplomacy, it was not so easy to gain the confidence
of Joad. The least hint at Mr. Edermont's past, and he withdrew into
himself. He evaded her most dexterous inquiries; and when she pressed
him hard, assumed the character of a dull, stupid old man who knew
nothing about the matter. Yet he was not unwilling to discuss the
details of the murder and subsequent robbery, although he professed
himself unable to account for either. By acting thus, he ignored the
question of Edermont's secret enemy.
But one day Dora succeeded in forcing him into plain speaking; but the
revelation made was one she was far from expecting. The beginning of
the whole matter lay in the fact that she discovered Joad in the
library the worse for drink. It was not that he was confused or
maudlin, for the man's brain and speech were both clear. But he was
filled with Dutch courage, which made him more audacious than usual.
Dora reproved him for his vice.
"You should be ashamed of yourself, drinking so much brandy, Mr.
Joad!" she said severely.
"I have not touched brandy for weeks!" said Joad, lying glibly, after
the fashion of habitual drunkards.
Dora looked at him in contempt, and pointed out a tall mirror, before
which they were both standing. It reflected her own tall, straight
form, and also the figure of the disreputable old sinner.
"Can you see your face and deny it?" she said in a tone of rebuke.
"Your eyes are red, your clothes are awry, your----"
"Leave me to bear the burden of my own sins," said Joad sullenly; "if
I take brandy, I don't ask you to pay for it."
"But you are a gentleman, a scholar," persisted Dora, sorry for the
wretched old creature; "you should be above such low vices."
"We cannot be above the depths to which we have fallen, Miss Carew. My
life has been one long failure, so it is scarcely to be wondered at
that I fly to drink for consolation. Few men have been so hardly
treated as I have been."
"Yet Mr. Edermont helped you."
"No doubt," retorted Joad viciously; "but he would not have stretched
out a finger to save me if I had not forced him to."
"You forced Mr. Edermont to----?"
"I forced him to nothing," interrupted Joad, seeing that he had gone
too far. "It is only my way of speaking. Don't mind the ramblings of a
foolish old failure."
Dora looked at him silently. His eyes were filled with tears, and,
ashamed of betraying his emotion, he turned away to busy himself with
dusting a book. In the few words which he had let slip Dora saw that
he had possessed some power over the dead man which had won him house
and home. That power she believed was connected with the lifelong
misery of Edermont, and with the fact of his murder. The idea made her
take an unexpected step. Seizing the astonished Joad by the arm, she
whirled him round, so as to look straight into his eyes.
"Did you kill Mr. Edermont?" she asked abruptly. Joad looked at her in
amazement, and sneered in her face.
"O Lord! Have you got that idea into your head?" said he
contemptuously. "No, Miss Carew, I did not kill Mr. Edermont. One does
not readily kill the goose with the golden eggs. By Julian's death I
have lost a protector--almost a home. Do you take me for a fool?"
"I take you for a man who knows more than he says," said Dora tartly.
"Then I am wise. I keep my own counsel until the time comes for me to
speak."
"I do not understand you."
"You will some day," retorted Joad with a leer, "and that sooner than
you expect. I wonder at your accusing me of this crime," he continued
in an injured tone. "By your own evidence the murder took place at one
o'clock, and at that time I was talking to Mr. Pride in my cottage. I
wonder at your talking like this, Miss Carew."
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Joad," said Dora ceremoniously. "I know that
you proved an alibi. There is one thing about you that I admire," she
added, after a pause.
Joad's eyes glittered like stars as he turned an admiring glance in
the direction of the young girl, and bent forward eagerly.
"What is that?" he demanded.
"You do not care for money."
"No," said Joad, after a pause; "I do not care particularly for money.
As long as I have a roof, a crust, and my books, I am satisfied. My
wants are simple. But why," he continued, looking at her in a puzzled
way, "why do you make such a remark?"
"Because you refuse to pocket fifty thousand pounds."
"You allude to the reward. My dear lady, I cannot gain that."
"I am not so sure of your inability to do so," said Dora coolly. "With
your knowledge of Mr. Edermont's past life, you must know who it was
he feared. If you know the name of that person, you know who killed
him. With that knowledge, why not apply for the fifty thousand
pounds?"
"I am not so omniscient as you think, Miss Carew. But we will suppose,
for the sake of argument, that I have such knowledge: what would it
benefit me to gain this fortune?"
"You could do good with it."
"Could I gain your love?"
Dora turned away with a flushed face, feeling the delicacy of the
position.
"You must not talk to me like that, Mr. Joad," she said with great
dignity.
"Why not? I love you."
"Then you ought to be ashamed to say so. I am the affianced wife of
another man."
"Allen Scott?"
"Yes," said Dora with emphasis, "Dr. Allen Scott.
"Bah! Why should you think of him? Has he stood by you in this
trouble? Not he! He left you to fight the matter out by yourself.
Besides, there are reasons why you should not marry him."
Dora's heart beat rapidly. Was she about to learn the truth? Had her
rebuff brought about the desired result, and would this old man reveal
what so long had been hidden? She believed that such was the case, and
could scarcely manage, so intense was her excitement, to ask the
necessary question to lure him on to a full confession. However, by an
effort of will she managed to keep her voice fairly steady.
"Are there any special reasons that you know of?"
"Several!" snarled Joad, rubbing his hands together, with an evil
glitter in his eyes.
"I should be glad to hear them," she said in the tone of an empress.
"I dare say you would; but I don't intend to tell you what they are."
"Why not?" demanded Dora, trying to hide her disappointment at this
unlooked-for result.
"Because I don't choose to speak until it is my pleasure to do so,"
said Joad insolently. "Oh, I can see what you are up to, Miss Carew.
You are trying to force the truth out of me for purposes of your own.
But you shan't--shan't--shan't!"
The old creature stamped with rage, and his face grew so red in his
excitement that Dora really thought he was about to have a fit. She
looked at him in astonishment, while he strove to control his anger
and assume a dignified demeanour. Such conduct was not to be
tolerated, and Dora walked towards the door of the library.
"I shall return when you know how to conduct yourself," she said
coldly.
Before she could open the door the delinquent shuffled after her, in a
state of childish repentance. "Do not go, do not go!" he cried
piteously. "I am very sorry; indeed, I am very sorry."
"Then why do you talk such nonsense?" said Dora, seeing that she had
gained an advantage. "Do you think I want to know your secrets, you
foolish old man?"
"Yes, yes; I am a foolish old man," he repeated, catching up her words
eagerly; "but do not be angry with me. I love you. Oh, Dora, dear,
sweet Dora, I love you!" and whining in this fashion the old man fell
on his knees.
"Rise, Mr. Joad! Do not be foolish. Get up at once--I insist!"
"Not until you promise to be my wife. I love you. I am old, but my
heart is young. Listen, listen!" he continued, glancing round. "If you
want money, I can get fifty thousand pounds. I know who killed
Julian!"
Dora tore her dress from his grasp in horror. "You know who killed Mr.
Edermont!"
"Yes; I will tell the name; I will gain the fortune; I will give it to
you. Only consent to be my wife."
"Your wife!" cried Dora, shrinking back with visible repugnance.
"Ah, I know that I am old," said Joad piteously, "but reflect. There
is much to be gained by you. I cannot live long; you would soon be my
widow. I would leave you all the money; and think how rich you would
be!"
"I wouldn't marry you if you offered me millions!" said Dora with
contempt. "I love one man only, and him only shall I marry."
Joad rose in a fury. "Don't tell me his name!" he shrieked; "I
know it. Allen--that miserable wretch! But you shall never marry
him--never!"
"How can you prevent our marriage?"
"By telling the truth--by gaining the fortune!" He stepped forward and
seized her wrist. "I hold the life of your lover in the hollow of my
hand!"
"What do you mean?" panted Dora. "Explain!"
"You wish to know my secrets. Well, I shall tell you one--one
only--that will make your heart sore and your face white. Who killed
Julian? Who came here in the dead of night and struck his foul blow?
Who but Allen Scott--Allen Scott, the murderer! Curse him!"