MAUD'S INHERITANCE
There was a lull in the political and social worlds when Herries was
captured. The newspapers had said all that they could say regarding
past events, and nothing especial was happening worth prattling about.
The "Marsh Inn" case, with its strong element of mystery and its spice
of romance, proved to be a godsend in the way of "copy." Consequently,
hordes of eager reporters poured into Tarhaven, whither Inspector
Trent had conducted his prisoner after the arrest at Anderfield in
Bucks. The facts that Herries was Sir Simon's nephew--for the late
knight was no unimportant figure in the commercial-millionaire
world--that he had inherited fifty thousand a year, and that he had
been taken by the police, when issuing from the village church
immediately after his marriage, made the whole case immensely
interesting. Also the mystery of the murder lifted it out of the
category of ordinary crime. It was well-known that the prisoner
declared himself to be innocent, and everyone wondered what possible
defence he could make.
Trent himself did not know, as, by the advice of shrewd-headed Kind,
the young man preserved an irritating silence, and the Rev. Michael
Gowrie, wishing to make a dramatic announcement at a dramatic moment,
kept his own counsel. That Herries might be exonerated never entered
the Inspector's head for one moment, and he gathered together all
procurable evidence so as to secure the committal of the prisoner by
the local magistrate. And as various hints--which might have been
traced to Gowrie--were given to the public that strange revelations
might be expected, everyone was on tip-toe with excitement. Sir Simon
had been a great magnate in Tarhaven, and it was natural that his
death should arouse the deepest interest. The more so, as it was now
commonly reported that, far from explaining the facts of the death and
the motive for what looked like a purposeless crime, the evidence at
the magisterial trial would probably deepen the mystery.
In their frantic efforts to get at the truth, and narrate
highly-coloured tales to their readers, several reporters attempted to
interview Mrs. Herries, formerly Miss Elspeth Gowrie. By the advice of
Sweetlips, the girl saw one of these enterprising young journalists
who belonged to a half-penny paper with the very largest circulation
in the world. Kind instructed her to tell the truth, even to the
concealment in the caravan, as he thought that, if public sympathy
could be awakened for the lovers, Herries would stand a better chance
of acquittal. There was some risk in being thus explicit, as the
Cheap-jack ran a deadly chance of being arrested as an accomplice
after the fact. Were Herries condemned he would probably be so
arrested, and Elspeth along with him. But before instructing Elspeth,
Sweetlips had privately interviewed the old Scotch tutor, and from him
had extracted the evidence which, as he averred, would save Herries
from the gallows at the eleventh hour. Elspeth herself did not know
what this evidence could be, but the fact that Kind was willing to
risk his liberty on the strength of it, made her very cheerful, as it
pointed to the certain discharge of Angus.
When the unvarnished tale came out in _The Morning Planet_, it made
an undeniable sensation, and Elspeth became the heroine of the hour.
The sudden love of the girl, the way in which she had proved that
love by rescuing the man she believed to be innocent from the hands of
the prejudiced police, the strange wooing in the caravan, and the
saving of Rachel Kind from a terrible death by the timely arrival of
Herries,--all these things smacked of romance, and people now began to
believe, in spite of all evidence to the contrary, that Angus Herries
was innocent. No man so loved could be guilty--no scoundrel could
awaken such devotion in the heart of a timid, unformed girl. One and
all, the women, high and low, of the three kingdoms ranged themselves
on the side of Mrs. Herries, and not a few men followed their lead, as
was natural. Kind's belief proved to be right. After the publication
of the statement in _The Morning Planet_, the case became more
interesting than ever, and everyone sympathised with the unlucky
married pair.
Dr. Browne invited Gowrie and his daughter to stop at his house, and
his servants were occupied to the very day of the trial in keeping
away people from the door. And when Elspeth walked abroad she was
pointed at, snap-shotted, admired, and discussed in a way, which
showed that her heroic conduct,--as _The Morning Planet_ called
it,--had won her a warm place in the heart of the public. In several
papers her portrait appeared, she was asked to write an account of her
early life, there was some talk of getting up a subscription on her
behalf, since it was known that she was horribly poor,--and in every
way, people showed their sympathy. Mrs. Herries was the lioness of the
hour, and had she been single would undoubtedly have received many
offers of marriage. As it was, her devotion to her unfortunate husband
made her the talk of England, Ireland, Scotland and Wales.
Elspeth did not like this publicity, as she was retiring by nature,
but she bore it all for the sake of Angus. Undoubtedly it would aid
him in his defence, and probably would help to save his life. To do
that she would have sacrificed herself ten times over and in a much
more terrible way. But further sacrifice was needless, Herries was
now,--so to speak,--under the protection of the British public, and
everyone was certain that he would have a fair trial. Many even went
so far as to say that he would be acquitted, but Inspector Trent
laughed these prophets to scorn. Herries was guilty,--the evidence
proved that he was guilty,--and in assisting him to escape, both his
wife and the Cheap-jack had thwarted the ends of justice. When the
prisoner was committed for trial, said Trent, he would see about
arresting Kind, as an accomplice after the fact. But even Trent did
not dare to hint that Elspeth might be arrested. To put her in prison
would have provoked a storm from the public which no one in authority
would risk.
One person was intensely disgusted at the elevation of young Mrs.
Herries into a heroine, and that was Maud Tedder. On hearing of the
arrest of her cousin, she had expressed great joy, and in his
condemnation she saw the chance of recovering her father's property.
Not only did she want the money, but she also desired to re-capture
Captain Bruce Kyles; a wary bird, only to be lived by golden grain.
After he had heard the will read, and had discovered that it could not
be upset, he had returned to the "Tarabacca" at Pierside, and beyond a
few cold notes had refrained from paying her any attention. In effect
he showed that, now she was poor he did not intend to marry her, and
after Gowrie's hint, Maud was certain that the Captain was engaged to
Señora Guzman. She had been made a catspaw of, and if Herries was not
hanged and Kyles re-captured to be her husband, she had fully made up
her spiteful mind to revenge herself. However, since there were
difficulties in the way, she called to see Elspeth and propose a
compromise. It might be, as Maud argued, that Angus would not be
condemned, especially after the statement of _The Morning Planet_,
therefore, it was worth while to gain half, if not the whole fortune.
Mrs. Herries was alone in the doctor's drawing-room, a very
masculine-looking apartment, unworthy of the name. Browne was absent,
seeing his patients. Kind, who usually haunted the house, was taking
Rachel round Tarhaven to buy goods for the caravan, and the Reverend
Michael Gowrie was where he often was, in the nearest public-house,
drinking at other people's expense, and advertising himself as the
father of the famous Mrs. Angus Herries. The old man managed to
procure many cheap drinks in this way, but no one ever got out of him,
even in his most convivial moments, what evidence he proposed to give
in order to save his son-in-law.
Elspeth remained within doors for a certain reason. After hearing
Kind's account of his visit to the "Tarabacca," she became certain
that Señora Guzman was in possession of facts which might help to
prove the innocence of her husband. Since Sir Simon had written that
mysterious letter to someone on the yacht, why not to this Captain
Kidd in petticoats? Then there was the hint of the treasure--Manco
Capac's treasure--which Kind professed himself unable to understand.
And Kyles himself might know something. By awakening the jealousy of
the Mexican beauty, the truth might be arrived at concerning the
kidnapping of Armour, and that, as Elspeth argued, was in some way
connected with the death of Sir Simon Tedder. After all, as Señora
Guzman had hinted to Kind, it might be simply a political crime, in
which case, Donna Maria would have the less hesitation in telling the
plain facts of the assassination. Taking all these facts into
consideration, Mrs. Herries had written to Señora Guzman asking her to
call at Tarhaven and have a chat, and the Mexican lady had graciously
assented to the request. When Miss Tedder's card was brought in
Elspeth saw in her arrival much more than a mere chance. Providence
had brought the two women who loved Bruce Kyles into contact, and the
possible quarrel between the two might result in the truth becoming
known. Of course Elspeth was groping in the dark, as she did not yet
see what Maud, or Señora Guzman, or Bruce Kyles, could have to do with
the murder; but that they had something to do with the death of the
millionaire she was very certain; and therefore was ready to take
every advantage of Miss Tedder's visit.
Maud came alone, as she did not wish even Mrs. Mountford to hear what
she had to say to the woman who had married her cousin. When she
entered the room, and Elspeth arose to receive her, she stopped short
in surprise. Was this frail, delicate-looking girl with the white face
and the pathetic eyes the heroine about whom such a fuss was being
made? She did not look as though she could plan anything, much less
carry out a daring scheme; yet it was owing to her that Herries had
escaped at a critical moment. But Maud, judging by the flesh and not
by the spirit, looked at the shrinking girl contemptuously, and
promised herself an easy victory. She sat down with an insolent air,
and stared hard at her rival.
On her side, Elspeth was eager to see Maud, knowing that Angus had
once loved her. Mrs. Herries admitted the doll-like prettiness of the
millionaire's daughter, but could not understand how a man like her
husband could have loved so soulless a being. Miss Tedder was
beautifully dressed, and looked extremely pretty; but she certainly
was not a girl to awaken passion of any sort in a man. In a way,
Elspeth was as contemptuous of Maud as Maud was of her, and so the two
commenced their interview with a mutual misunderstanding.
"I am Angus Herries' cousin," said Miss Tedder sharply, sitting bolt
upright, and keeping her hands in her muff; then when Elspeth simply
nodded, she added, "And you are his wife?"
Elspeth bowed again.
"Why have you come here?" she asked quietly.
The Dresden-china beauty laughed.
"To see the woman who has taken my leavings," she said insolently.
"You see her," replied Mrs. Herries calmly. "Well?"
This behaviour disconcerted Maud. She would have preferred Elspeth to
have risen in a royal rage, but the girl was perfectly calm, and would
supply no fuel for burning.
"I don't think much of you," she snapped, with a hard stare.
"Really? Did you come to tell me this?"
"Partly, and also to congratulate you that Angus will be hanged."
Elspeth started and clasped her hands tightly to prevent herself
getting into a passion.
"Why do you think that is a matter of congratulation?" she demanded,
in a choked voice.
"Because he's a beast," burst out Maud, losing her temper in the face
of this coolness, "he was once engaged to me and treated me
shamefully."
"No, he did not. He treated you only too kindly."
"What do you know about it?"
"All that Angus could tell me."
"Ah. He had to make his own case good."
"There was no need to with me," said Elspeth coldly, but a spot of
vivid red burned on each cheek. "I know Angus well."
"But not so well as I do," cried Miss Tedder, anxious to break down
her companion's composure. "Angus made me love him, and then left me
all alone. He broke my heart," this with a truly effective sob.
"Rubbish," said Elspeth, rising quickly. "Say that to a man and not to
another woman. Angus had a passing fancy for you, and you threw him
over at the bidding of your father."
"He had more than a fancy. He adored me."
"Then why did he leave you?"
"Papa would not let me marry him; but if Angus had remained true to
me, I should have remained true to him."
"Instead of taking up with Captain Bruce Kyles, I suppose," sneered
Elspeth, resolved to sting in her turn.
Maud started to her feet in a fury.
"How dare you talk to me like this? You who are no better than a
servant, and who will soon be a murderer's widow."
"No," cried Mrs. Herries imperatively, and facing the other girl
boldly, "I intend to save my husband's life."
"You can't do it without me."
"You," Elspeth turned like a tigress on her visitor, "what do you know
about it?"
Maud felt rather afraid when this fragile girl flashed out in this
way.
"I know that Angus is guilty," she said obstinately.
"Then how can you save him?"
"I can get some one to give evidence that he is innocent."
"Who?"
"I'll tell you--on conditions."
"Oh, on conditions. And what are they?"
"My father," explained Maud calmly, "left all his money, save a
miserable thousand a year, to Angus. That is not fair."
"I can offer no opinion on that point," rejoined Elspeth, in an
equally cool manner. "The will was none of my making. But if you
wanted to inherit the money, you should have given up this Captain
Kyles, as your father wished."
"I won't and I didn't. I would rather lose every penny than give up
Bruce."
"It seems to me that you _have_ lost every penny," said Mrs. Herries
rather cruelly, "but you have got your lover."
"No, I haven't," cried Maud, her eyes very bright and her cheeks very
red; then suddenly broke down, "Oh, Elspeth, do help me, or I'll lose
him altogether. He won't marry me unless I have the money, and I
haven't got it."
But Elspeth was not going to yield to a few crocodile tears.
"You can get the money when Angus is hanged," she retorted.
Maud dried her eyes viciously.
"Very well," she cried, with a stamp, "you're a hard-hearted girl and
a beast. I hate and detest you. I came here to save your husband, but
now he can hang."
"Very good. Now you can go."
But this was not what Miss Tedder wanted.
"See here," she said, becoming business-like, and speaking in a hard
voice, "if you and Angus will promise to give me half the income, I'll
save him."
"Can you?"
"You asked that before. Yes, I can."
Elspeth recalled what the other had said a few moments previously.
"By getting someone to declare his innocence," she repeated.
"No," said Maud, coming closer and whispering, "by getting someone to
plead guilty to the crime."
"What is the name of this someone?"
"I shan't tell you."
"You shall, you must."
"No! If you and Angus sign a paper saying that I am to have half the
money, then I'll save him."
"By denouncing the real criminal?"
"Oh, I didn't say I knew about that."
"You do. I believe you know the truth; and wish to get Angus hanged
simply to get this horrible money," and before Maud could evade her
she caught the girl by her wrist, "you'll tell me the name of the
assassin before you leave this room."
"Leave me alone," cried Miss Tedder in a cold fury, "how dare you?"
In answer Elspeth gave the wrist such a twist that Maud screamed aloud
with pain.
"Tell me--tell me."
"You're hurting me. Ow! Ow!"
"Cry away," taunted Elspeth, "I intend to have the truth."
Maud set her teeth and tried to wriggle free. But she might as well
have attempted to extricate herself from a blacksmith's vice.
"Oh, you are hurting me!"
"I'll break your wrist before I've done. Speak," and Elspeth shook her
as a terrier does a rat.
"No," Maud fastened her teeth in Elspeth's wrist and received a box on
the ears. Then she burst out crying and dropped to the floor with Mrs.
Herries still holding to her prey. "Oh, you are cruel."
Elspeth shook her again, and went on shaking as she spoke. "Tell
me--tell me."
"I'm not sure," whimpered Miss Tedder, now really frightened of the
other's blazing eyes. "I can prove nothing."
"You must let me judge of that. Who killed Sir Simon?"
"Will you give me half the money if I tell you?"
"You must ask Angus that. I don't dispose of his property."
Maud began to scream. But it was all of no use. She had ventured into
the lion's den.
"How ill-bred you are," she sobbed.
"Ah," said Elspeth contemptuously, "you thought to come here and taunt
me, you thought to find a weakling; but you see," with another
vigorous shake, "my love for Angus makes me strong. I'm afraid of
nothing, when he is in danger. You rejoiced to hear that he was
arrested. Very good, then you shall be the one to release him. Now
then, out with it,--out with it," and again came the shaking until
Maud was quite sick. She was terribly afraid of this reckless girl,
who dared to lay hands on her. There was nothing for it, but to tell
the truth so far as she knew it.
"Señora Guzman murdered my father," she cried, grovelling.
Mrs. Herries was so surprised that she released her hold, and stepped
back a pace to see if Maud was speaking truly.
"How do you know?"
"Papa wrote a letter to her saying that he would disinherit me if I
didn't give up Bruce, and asked her to meet him at the 'Marsh Inn' to
see if she could take Bruce away from me."
"It might be true," murmured Elspeth, recalling that Señora Guzman
smoked the brand of cigarette found in Herries' room. "But why did she
kill your father?"
"He took a lot of money with him, and she wanted it to fit out an
expedition to find Manco Capac's treasure."
"Who told you this?"
"Bruce. He fears her and loves me. There," Maud rose, and smoothed her
skirts, "I've told you the truth. But you can prove nothing without
me. Give me half the money and----"
"You shall have half the money if you save Angus," said Elspeth.