THE SINS OF THE FATHER.
When Dora made that last remark, the face of Mrs. Tice grew red and
indignant. She looked at the girl with a fiery eye, and demanded
crossly what she meant by saying such a thing. Knowing the attachment
of the housekeeper to Allen, this was natural enough.
"The fact is," explained Dora, "Mr. Joad accuses Allen of murdering
Mr. Edermont."
"And what next, I wonder!" cried Mrs. Tice in high dudgeon; "it is
more likely Mr. Joad killed the man himself! Can he substantiate his
accusation?"
"He can state that Allen was in this house on the night of the
murder."
"That does not say Mr. Allen committed the crime," retorted Mrs. Tice,
her face a shade paler. "Mr. Allen told me in confidence that he had
seen the dead body, and had kept silent for his own sake. I quite
agreed with him that it was the best thing to do. And he told you
also, Miss Carew?"
"Yes, he told me also; but he did not inform Joad."
"Then how does Joad know that Mr. Allen was here on that night?"
"He saw him from the door of his cottage," said Dora quietly; "but you
need not be afraid for Allen, Mrs. Tice. I can save him, and close
Joad's mouth."
"But how, my dear?" asked the housekeeper, greatly perplexed.
"By becoming the wife of Mr. Joad."
"Mercy on me, Miss Carew! You would not do that!" exclaimed Mrs. Tice,
lifting up her hands in horror.
"I won't do it unless I am forced to," said Dora gloomily. "But
supposing Joad denounces Allen, how can he defend himself? I know that
he is innocent; but his presence here on that night looks guilty."
"Appearances are against him, certainly. But if Mr. Allen is arrested,
he will have to save his life by denouncing your father as the
murderer."
"My father is not the murderer."
"I say that he is!" cried Mrs. Tice emphatically. "For twenty years
George Carew has been hunting down Mr. Dargill--I suppose Lady
Burville told you his real name?--and he caught him at last and killed
him."
"You are wrong," said Dora, shaking her head. "I thought as you did
before Mr. Pallant arrived. He undeceived me."
"What does Mr. Pallant know about it?"
"He knows everything. He met my father in San Francisco two years ago,
and my father told him the whole story before he died."
"Died! Do you mean to say that George Carew is dead?"
"He is dead and buried."
"Captain Carew dead!" muttered Mrs. Tice in a bewildered tone;
"dead--and without avenging himself on the man who stole his wife!
Then, who killed Mr. Dargill--or rather, Mr. Edermont?"
"I do not know. That is just what I wish to find out."
"No one else had any reason to kill him," said the housekeeper in
dismay, "and yet he is dead--dead--murdered. You are right, my dear,"
she added in a firm tone; "this is a serious matter for Mr. Allen.
Joad hates him so that he would willingly perjure himself to see my
dear boy hanged. But we must save him, you and I; we must save him,
Miss Carew."
"To do so, we must understand one another," said Dora; "you must tell
me all."
"I shall do so," cried Mrs. Tice energetically--"yes. Hitherto I have
said nothing, out of consideration for your feelings. Now I shall tell
you why Captain Carew--your father, my dear--hated Mr. Edermont so
deeply. But first let me hear what your mother revealed. I may be able
to relate those things which she kept hidden from you."
Thus adjured to confess, Dora related the story of the past, as told
to her by Lady Burville--she could not bear even to think of her as
"mother." Mrs. Tice listened in severe silence, only nodding her head
now and then at some special point in the story. When Dora concluded,
she sat quiet for two minutes, then gravely delivered herself of her
opinion.
"I see that you do not look upon this woman as a mother, my dear young
lady," she said solemnly, "and you are right to do so. May I speak
plainly?"
"As plainly as you like, Mrs. Tice. I have no filial feeling for the
mother who deserted me, and left her helpless child to be brought up
by a stranger."
"Mr. Dargill was scarcely a stranger," corrected Mrs. Tice: "he was
your mother's second husband, as she told you. Oh, heavens! you are
quite right! Mrs. Carew, as I knew her, was always a light-headed,
selfish woman, given over to vanity and pleasure. She cared only for
money and idleness, and I'll be bound she was only too glad to get rid
of you, so as to give herself a chance of a third marriage as an
unencumbered widow. Yet what she came through would have sobered many
a woman. But there, Mrs. Carew was always a feeble, frail coquette.
She loved only one thing in the world then, and she loves only one
thing now--herself."
"Was what she told me true?"
"Oh yes; the tale she told is true enough, but it is trimmed and cut
to suit her own ends. She was ashamed to tell you everything, I
suppose. A wicked woman she is, Miss Carew, for all that she is your
mother. Owing to her coquetry and love of money, poor Mr. Dargill came
to his end as surely as if she had killed him herself."
"We don't know that yet," said Dora thoughtfully. "Remember, it was
not her first husband who killed him."
"That is true," assented Mrs. Tice. "Nevertheless, I can think of no
other person who had an interest in your guardian's death. But I had
best tell you my story, Miss Carew, and you can judge for yourself."
"Will your story enable me to discover the real murderer?"
"I don't say that," replied Mrs. Tice reluctantly; "as I said before,
you must judge for yourself."
She took her spectacles off and laid them on the table; then, folding
her mittened hands on her lap, she began the amended version of that
story which Lady Burville had told to Dora. The missing portion,
supplied by the memory of the housekeeper, was by far the most
exciting episode of the tale.
"The whole affair took place at Christchurch, in Hampshire," she said
slowly; "you were right in your guess as to the locality, Miss Carew.
I was born and brought up and married there, but twenty-five years ago
my husband died, and to support myself I had to go out again to
service. Dr. and Mrs. Scott took me in as a nurse to their newly-born
child--Mr. Allen, that is. His mother died shortly after giving him
birth, and his bringing up was left to me. Dr. Scott took little heed
of the child. He was a handsome man, clever in his profession, but
fond of going about the country to pleasure parties, and of flirting
with his lady patients. He was said to be deeply in love with Mrs.
Carew."
"Was my father with her then?"
"No, my dear. This was two years after Mr. Allen was born, and your
mother was not married then. A Miss Treherne she was, a pretty,
fair-haired girl, shallow and frivolous. She had three suitors: Dr.
Scott was one, Mr. Julian Dargill was the second, and Captain Carew
the third."
"Was Mr. Edermont rich then?"
"Mr. Julian Dargill was rich," corrected Mrs. Tice. "I prefer to talk
of Mr. Edermont by his real name, my dear. He was a weak, effeminate
little man, with a noble head, and even then his hair was of a silvery
whiteness. It was your description that made me recognise him on the
day I showed you his picture."
"He wore no beard then?" said Dora, remembering the portrait.
"No; he was clean shaven. No doubt he afterwards adopted the beard as
a disguise to escape Captain Carew. Well, Miss Treherne hesitated
between the three suitors for many months. At last her parents decided
for her, and for some reason forced her to marry Carew. Why, I do not
know, for the Captain was not rich; he was of a violent temper, and
usually he was absent at sea. However, she married him and became Mrs.
Carew, and shortly after the honeymoon her husband went to sea. While
he was absent Mrs. Carew carried on with Mr. Dargill and Dr. Scott. I
must say she behaved very badly, and public opinion was quite against
her--so much, indeed, that six months afterwards she left
Christchurch."
"Had she received news of my father's supposed death then?" said Dora,
flushing a little at the disapproving way in which Mrs. Tice spoke of
her mother.
"Yes; the mate of Captain Carew's ship was saved, and came home to
tell the story. Then Mrs. Carew went away with what small property she
had. It was supposed she went to London, and it was noticed that Mr.
Dargill left Christchurch after she did. When she reappeared at
Christchurch she brought you, Miss Carew, and her new husband, Mr.
Dargill."
"That was a year afterwards?"
"Yes, it was quite a year, if not more," said Mrs. Tice. "But she
married Mr. Dargill as soon as she could after the report of her first
husband's death."
"Was my mother in love with Mr. Dargill?"
"In love!" echoed the housekeeper contemptuously. "She was never in
love with anyone but herself."
"Are you not rather hard on her, Mrs. Tice?" said Dora, reflecting
that after all this despised woman was her mother, and entitled to
some consideration.
"Far from it, my dear young lady," was the emphatic rejoinder of Mrs.
Tice; "indeed, out of pity for your position and feelings, I am
speaking as well as I can of her. But what can you think of a woman
who marries three husbands, and leaves her child to be brought up far
away from her? In all these twenty years, Miss Carew," added the old
dame, nodding, "I dare swear your mother has not given you a single
thought."
"She was willing enough to recognise me," said the girl, attempting a
defence of the indefensible.
"She made the best of a bad job, you mean," retorted Mrs. Tice. "If
you had not produced that brooch, and showed Lady Burville plainly
that she was in your power, she would never have acknowledged the
relationship. She knew you could not denounce your own mother, and
that is why she spoke up."
"She might wish to make amends for her conduct."
Mrs. Tice shook her head.
"Laura Carew, Laura Dargill, Laura Burville, whatever you like to call
her," she said, "is not the kind of woman to regret her conduct in any
way. No, no; don't you deceive yourself. Lady Burville was in a trap,
and she used her knowledge of your birth to get out of it."
"But all this is beside my question," said Dora, wearied of this
constant blame; "I asked you if my mother was in love with Mr.
Dargill?"
"No, she was not. What woman could love that miserable little
creature? You saw enough of him, Miss Carew, and I am sure you neither
loved nor respected him."
"No, I certainly did not," said Dora gravely; "and yet, seeing that he
brought me up out of charity, I should certainly have paid him more
attention."
"He acted well by you, I don't deny," answered Mrs. Tice reluctantly;
"and it was good of him to help Lady Burville by taking charge of you.
But what I cannot understand is why he did not stay with her."
"How could he, Mrs. Tice? For, in the first place, his marriage was
void, as my father was alive. And in the second, you may be sure that
Captain Carew kept a watch on my mother to see if Mr. Dargill would
come near her. No doubt he thought to trap him in that way."
"Perhaps," replied Mrs. Tice ambiguously; "but if your father kept
watch upon his wife, why did he permit her to marry Sir John
Burville?"
"I cannot say," said Dora, colouring; she knew her mother's opinion on
that point. "But my mother thought that Captain Carew was dead, else
you may be sure that she would not have married again."
"I am not so sure of that," grumbled Mrs. Tice. "Your mother would do
anything for money. I remember that she took----"
"Spare me further details," said Dora, blushing, "and finish your
story. I have not heard yet why Allen cannot marry me."
"I will say no more, then," said Mrs. Tice hastily; "but, to make a
long story short, Captain Carew was not dead, and returned to claim
his wife. As I have said, he was madly jealous of his wife, and he had
a fearful temper; when he heard that his wife had married again, he
swore he would kill her second husband. Dargill was away at the time,
and Captain Carew kept such a watch on his wife that she could send no
warning. He wished to kill Dargill, who was expected back by a late
train. All this came out at the inquest, my dear. It was Dargill's
habit to cross the lawn and enter the drawing-room by the French
window. As afterwards was stated by the servants, Captain Carew found
this out, and hid himself in the drawing-room with a pistol. He saw a
man approaching at nine o'clock, and as the stranger stepped into the
room he shot him."
"Shot Mr. Dargill?"
"No, Miss Carew," said Mrs. Tice, shaking her head; "he made a
mistake. He shot Dr. Scott."
"Dr. Scott--Allen's father!" cried Dora, rising to her feet with a
pale face.
"Yes, Mr. Allen's father. Mrs. Dargill, your mother, had sent for him
to see how her second husband was to be saved from the fury of Captain
Carew. He fell into the trap laid for Mr. Dargill, and was shot
through the heart. Then Captain Carew fled, and was never caught. It
was supposed that he had gone to the Continent. And now, Miss Carew,
you know why Mr. Allen cannot marry you."
"Because--because of that murder!" gasped Dora in broken tones.
"Yes. Mr. Allen cannot marry the daughter of the man who killed his
father in cold blood."