THE MADNESS OF LAMBERT JOAD.
With the recovered manuscript in her hands, with the knowledge where
it had been found, and with the memory of the clock being wrong, Dora
felt convinced that Joad was guilty of the crime. Without doubt he had
designed to kill Edermont on that night, and had prepared the alibi so
as to prove his innocence should such proof be needed. But what was
his motive for the perpetration of so detestable a crime? Why had he
stolen the manuscript, and why had he not destroyed so dangerous a
piece of evidence? Dora believed that the answer to these questions
was to be found in the manuscript itself. The reading of it would
probably solve the whole mystery.
Having accomplished her task, she slipped the paper into the pocket of
her dress, ran out of the house, and, having locked the door, repaired
to the place where she had hidden her bicycle. To give colour to her
excuse to Joad, she mounted and rode down the road for some
considerable distance. Indeed, she felt inclined there and then to go
to Canterbury and assure Allen that he was safe, and that she had won
a fortune by discovering the actual criminal; but her desire to do
away with any possible suspicions on the part of Joad induced her to
abandon such intention. When he found the manuscript gone, he might
suspect her if she went directly into Canterbury, whereas, if she
behaved as usual, he could have no doubts on the subject.
"Besides," said Dora to herself, as she turned her face towards
Chillum, "Joad never goes to his cottage during the day, and therefore
he will not find out his loss until to-night. Should he suspect that I
have discovered his secret, he may do me an injury, or take to flight.
I must allay his suspicions, and see Allen about the manuscript. We
will read it together, and then take such steps as may be necessary to
save him and arrest Joad."
On approaching the gates of the Red House, Dora received a shock, for
on glancing at Joad's cottage, she saw its owner coming out of the
door. Perhaps her questions about the clock had induced him to depart
from his usual routine, and by rousing his suspicions had created a
desire to assure himself that the manuscript was safe; but whatever
might be the reason, Dora had never known Joad to revisit his domicile
in the daytime. A qualm seized her lest he should guess what she had
done; but the memory of what was at stake nerved her to resistance,
and she confronted the approaching old man with a mien cool and
composed. Certainly she needed all her courage at that moment, for
Joad was conducting himself like a lunatic.
His face was redder than usual with suppressed rage; he swung round
his arms in a threatening manner, and, hardly seeing her in his blind
fury, babbled about his loss. Dora did not need to hear his words to
be assured that he had discovered the loss of the manuscript. But she
strained her ears to listen, in the hope that Joad might say something
likely to incriminate himself.
"Lost, lost!" muttered Joad, as he shuffled near her--"and after all
my care. What am I to do now? What--what--what?"
"Is anything wrong, Mr. Joad?"
The man paused before Dora with a dazed look, and suddenly cooled down
in the most surprising manner. Knowing the dangerous position in which
he was placed by the loss of the manuscript, he saw the necessity for
dissimulation. His rage gave place to smiles, his furious gestures to
fawning.
"No, Miss Dora; there is nothing wrong. I have lost a precious book,
that is all. But I know who took it," he broke out with renewed fury.
Dora felt nervous, and for the moment she thought that he suspected
her. But the next moment--still talking of the manuscript under the
flimsy disguise of a book--his words reassured her. "Oh yes," he
repeated; "I know who stole it, but I'll be revenged;" then he shook
his fists in the air, as though invoking a curse on someone, and
returned to the Red House.
When Dora reached her own room, she took out the manuscript. It was a
lengthy effusion, evidently carefully prepared, and certainly clearly
written. With a thrill of excitement the girl sat down to read the
story, and learn from it, if possible, the motive of Joad in becoming
a midnight assassin. Before she had read two lines, Meg knocked at her
door. Dora hid away the precious paper hastily in her wardrobe, and
called on Meg to enter.
"Dinner is up, miss," said the stout countrywoman, "and Mr. Joad
waits. He don't look well, Miss Dora. Sheets ain't nothing to face of
he."
"Is he in a bad temper, Meg?"
"Lordy, no, miss! He ghastly pale and quiet like."
Meg's report proved to be true. Joad's rage had died out into a
subdued nervousness, and his red face had paled to a yellowish hue. He
said little and ate little, but Dora noticed that he drank more than
his ordinary allowance of whisky-and-water. Every now and then he cast
a furtive glance round the room, as though waiting anxiously for the
unexpected to happen. His conduct reminded Dora of the late Mr.
Edermont's behaviour in church during the Litany, and there was no
doubt in her mind as to Joad's feelings. He had received a shock, and
in consequence thereof he was thoroughly frightened.
Towards the end of the meal he grew more composed, under the influence
of the spirits and water, and it was then that he abruptly informed
Dora that he was going into Canterbury.
"You are going into Canterbury," she echoed, fairly astonished, "this
afternoon?"
"Yes; I have not been in the town for months. But I wish to consult--a
lawyer."
"About the loss of your book, I suppose?"
Joad raised his heavy eyes, and sent a piercing glance in her
direction.
"Yes," he said, in a quiet tone, "I wish to consult about that loss."
"Will you see Mr. Carver?"
"On the whole," said Joad, with great deliberation, "I think I shall
see Mr. Carver. He knows much; he may as well know more."
"What do you mean?" asked Dora, startled by the significance of this
speech.
"You will know to-morrow, Miss Carew."
He left the room, and shortly afterwards the house. Anxious to learn
if he intended to fly, and so escape the consequences of his crime,
Dora followed him down to the gate. This had not been kept locked of
late, and Joad swung it easily open. Stepping out, he cast a glance to
right and left in an uneasy fashion, and suddenly staggered against
the wall with his hand to his heart. In an instant Dora was beside
him.
"What is the matter, Mr. Joad?"
"Only the old trouble--my heart, my heart," he muttered; "it will kill
me some day. The sooner the better--now."
Dora took this speech as an acknowledgment of his guilt, and withdrew
a little from his neighbourhood. Joad took no notice of this
shrinking, but explained his plans.
"I go to my cottage to change my clothes," he said calmly, "then I
will get a trap from the hotel, and drive to Canterbury to see Mr.
Carver. You need not expect me at the Red House to-night, Miss Dora. I
shall stay in my own cottage. It will not do for me to be out after
dark."
"Why not, Mr. Joad? You are in no danger?"
"I am in danger of losing my life," retorted the old man, and,
flinging her detaining hand rudely aside, he ran across the road with
an activity surprising in one of his years and sedentary life.
When he disappeared Dora returned to the house. She was at a loss what
to do with regard to Joad. His actions and speech were so strange that
she was afraid lest he should fly. If he did, his complicity in the
crime might never be proved, and so Allen's safety might be
compromised. Dora was determined that this should not be. She decided
to get into Canterbury before Joad, to see Mr. Carver and ask his
advice; afterwards to call on Allen and show him the manuscript. In
some way or other she would contrive to circumvent the discovered
villain.
Having come to this decision, Dora put the manuscript in her pocket,
assumed her hat and gloves, and took out her bicycle. Joad was not yet
out of his cottage, so she hurried in hot haste, and spun up the road
at full speed. By the time he had got to the hotel and ordered the
trap she hoped to be in Canterbury preparing the ground for his
arrival, so that his efforts to fly--if indeed he intended to do
so--might be baffled in every direction. Dora felt that a crucial
moment was at hand, and that it behoved her to have all her wits about
her if she hoped to save Allen and win the fifty thousand pounds.
On her arrival at Canterbury, Dora lost no time in seeking the lawyer.
He was busy in his dingy back office as usual, and betrayed no
surprise at seeing his visitor. With a dry smile he shook hands, and
placed a chair for her, then he gave his explanation of her
appearance.
"You have come to ask further about your five hundred pounds," said
he; "if so, I am afraid you are wasting your time."
"I do not intend to waste my time on that matter, Mr. Carver," replied
Dora quietly, "nor yours either. The object of my visit is far more
important. I have discovered who killed Mr. Edermont."
If she hoped to astonish Mr. Carver by this speech, she was never more
mistaken in her life. He did not display any surprise, but merely
laughed and rubbed his dry hands together.
"Have I, then, to congratulate you on gaining fifty thousand pounds?"
he asked satirically.
"You can judge for yourself, Mr. Carver," said Dora quietly; and then
and there, without further preamble, she related the finding of the
manuscript, the behaviour of Joad, and the evidence of the clock.
Carver betrayed his interest by frequent raisings of his eyebrows, but
otherwise remained motionless until the conclusion of her story. She
might as well have been speaking to a stone.
"And this manuscript," he asked; "have you it with you?"
"Yes," Dora laid it on the table, "here it is. The story of Mr.
Edermont's early life."
"You have read it?"
"No; not yet. I have not had time to do so. I have brought it in to
read with Allen--that is, unless you require it."
Carver thought for a moment, and shook his head.
"No," he said in an amiable tone, "I do not require it at the present
moment. I shall see Mr. Joad first, and then call on Dr. Scott to hear
his and your report on this paper."
"Do you think Mr. Joad is guilty?" asked Dora, replacing the
manuscript in her pocket.
"Circumstantial evidence is strongly against him," replied Mr. Carver
cautiously, "but I shall reserve my opinion until I hear his story."
"Do you think he will call on you?"
"He told you that he intended to do so, Miss Carew."
"Very true, Mr. Carver. All the same, he may have done so to
save time. For all we know, he may design to go straight to the
railway-station and catch the London express."
"Oh, I can frustrate that scheme," said Carver, rising. "Mr. Joad's
conduct is sufficiently suspicious to justify his detention on the
ground of complicity, if not of actual guilt. A word to Inspector
Jedd, and Mr. Joad will not get away by the express. Go and see Dr.
Scott, my dear young lady, and leave me to deal with your friend."
"You won't let him escape?"
"No," said Carver dryly. "On the whole, I had rather you got the fifty
thousand pounds than anyone else."
And then he conducted Dora to the door with a courtesy he had never
extended before to any female client, and at which his clerks were
greatly astonished. Congratulating herself on having thus made all
safe, Dora went to see Allen. He was still unwell, but felt better
than he had done on the previous day. He was surprised at her visit,
and gathered from her bright looks that she had something of
importance to communicate to him.
"What is it, Dora?" he asked anxiously; "good or bad news?"
"Good! You are safe!"
"Then you intend to marry Joad?" said Allen in a tone of despair.
"Indeed, I intend no such thing! Mr. Joad has other things to think
about besides marriage."
"What other things?"
"How to save his neck. Yes, you may well look astonished, Allen. Joad,
and none other, killed my guardian! Here is the proof!" and Dora flung
the manuscript on the table.