A STARTLING PIECE OF EVIDENCE.
"Miss Clyde!" said Paul, staring at his informant; "but what was she
doing in the Winding Lane at so late an hour?"
"Watchin' Miss Lester, of course, sir!"
"Why? For what reason?"
Brent laughed in a coarse manner, and there was a leer on his face as
he replied to this question. "Don't y' know, sir, Miss Clyde's sweet
on Mr. Lovel, and she 'ated Miss Lester like pisin?"
"Are you sure?"
"Sure?" returned Brent, with contempt--"why, ain't I bin ploughman on
Clyde's Farm for years? an' ain't I 'eard arl the talk o' the maids?
'Tis well known theer as Miss Clyde 'ud give 'er ears to be Missus
Lovel!"
"And you think she killed Miss Lester out of jealousy?"
"I'm sure she did, sir. Wot wos she doin' in th' lane creepin' arter
them? Why wasn't she 'ome at the Farm? Oh, no, sir; she did it, for I
knows the kin' of temper she 'as! Mad bulls is nothin' to it!"
"Then Dr. Lester is innocent!" said Paul, half to himself.
"Niver thowt he were guilty," returned Brent, drily.
"Then why didn't you come forward at the inquest and confess all this,
so as to save an innocent man from arrest?"
Brent reared himself to a giant height, and he laid down his pipe on
the table. "Whoy didn't I," he thundered--'"cause I wished t' be
honourable for that there money! If I'd said I seed Miss Clyde, I'd
have had to say why she wos theer, wouldn't I? and cud I 'ave said she
were watchin' Mr. Lovel and the gal when the five pounds were given to
me to 'old my tongue? It was either tell arl or shut up," concluded
Brent, dropping back into his seat, "so I shut up."
Paul nodded. "It was the only thing you could do," he said, musingly;
"but I must see Miss Clyde and get the truth out of her."
"An' y' mus' see Mr. Lovel," said Brent, heavily. "I ain't goin' to
let the doctor be strung oop. Let Mr. Lovel git away t' Americy, an'
then I'll tell arl I've told you about Miss Clyde and Mr. Lovel, an'
th' perlice will let t' doctor out o' gaol."
"No doubt," said Mexton, rising. "And in the meantime, Brent, you had
better hold your tongue until I give you leave to speak."
"I shan't speak till Mr. Lovel ses 'es I can," said Brent, doggedly.
"I'll see Mr. Lovel about that, Brent. In the meantime, as I said
before, hold your tongue. If Inspector Drek knew what you have done
you would get into trouble."
"Shan't, sir, if y' don't tell him!"
"I don't intend to tell him," rejoined Paul, coldly. "I'll thrash out
this matter for myself. If Miss Clyde killed that poor girl, she must
suffer for her crime."
"I 'ope they'll string 'er oop!" said Brent, vindictively. "I 'ate
'er; she turned me off wi'oot a character."
Paul shrugged his shoulders at this last speech, which betrayed the
motive for Brent's accusation, and went away from the inn. It was now
growing late, and he had to return to his duties in Marborough. There
was no time to ride out two miles and see Miss Clyde; nor, if there
had been, would Paul have sought an interview so soon after the
conversation with Brent. He wished for a quiet time to consider all
that had been told to him; to marshal his facts and to draw deductions
therefrom. The truth is, Mexton was becoming bewildered by the sudden
shifting of the blame from one person to another. At first, on the
face of the circumstantial evidence supplied by Eliza, it seemed that
Dr. Lester was guilty; and even after the sifting of such evidence by
coroner and jury, it had been found strong enough to imprison him
pending a more extended trial. Then, by the belief of Herne regarding
the bribery--which was afterwards admitted by Brent--and by the
declaration of Iris, it appeared that Lovel had committed the crime.
Now came the ploughman, who positively asserted that Miss Clyde had
killed Milly. Which one of the three witnesses was to be believed?
which of the three accused was to be deemed guilty? Paul could not
say.
He quite admitted that Miss Clyde, in a moment of jealousy at seeing
Lovel with her rival, might have given way to the strong temper which
she was known to possess. But it was incredible that she had gone to
the Winding Lane with a pistol to designedly murder the girl. The
question was: Where had she obtained the weapon wherewith to commit
the crime? No doubt she had seen Lovel follow Milly into the lane, and
had come after him. That was clear enough; but it did not account for
Miss Clyde's possession of a pistol, without which she could not have
shot the girl. On the whole, Paul doubted the story of Brent, which
was doubtless dictated by a feeling of hatred against the woman who
had dismissed him from her employment. By the time he reached
Marborough, the journalist had come to the conclusion that Miss Clyde
would be able to refute the accusation; and he determined to give her
the chance of doing so next day at a personal interview. Paul believed
that she would prove her own innocence, and might also offer from her
own knowledge some solution of the mystery.
On arriving at his home Paul found that Iris had preceded him, and was
seated in the tiny drawing-room with Mrs. Mexton. The widow--for
Paul's father had long since departed this life--was a placid,
motherly-looking woman, whose mission in life seemed to be the task of
comforting the afflicted. In this mission she was now engaged with
Iris, and from the more composed looks of the girl it would seem that
she had succeeded.
"Well," said Iris, when he made his appearance, "did you find Brent?"
"Yes--and what is more, I made him speak out."
"Did he give you any useful information?"
"He did; so useful that I hope to prove the innocence of Dr. Lester,
and secure the arrest of the real murderer."
"Lucas Lovel?"
"No. According to Brent, that gentleman is innocent."
"I told you so, Iris," interjected Mrs. Mexton mildly. "I am sure Mr.
Lovel is too much a gentleman to commit so terrible a crime."
"I don't think good birth or good breeding have much to do with the
prevention of crime," replied Iris disdainfully; "there is criminality
amongst the upper classes, as in the lower, only they sin in a more
refined manner. But this is beside the question. What I wish to know
is: If Mr. Lovel is not guilty--which I beg leave to doubt--who is?"
"What would you say to Miss Clyde?"
"I should laugh."
"And I," said Mrs. Mexton energetically, "would be utterly disinclined
to believe that a Christian gentlewoman would fall to such a depth of
degradation."
"Christian gentlewomen, like all others of their sex, are amenable to
jealousy," declared Paul, grimly.
"Jealousy!" repeated Iris--"and Miss Clyde was jealous?"
"So Brent says. She loves Lucas Lovel and hated your sister."
"Does Brent say she committed the crime on that motive?"
"Yes; he saw her following the pair in the lane on that night."
"Then Lovel did meet Milly?"
"He did."
"And Mr. Lovel bribed him to hold his tongue?"
"Precisely," assented Paul--"and with a five-pound note."
"Then I tell you what," said Iris, coolly--"Mr. Lovel paid Brent also
to accuse Miss Clyde!"
"H'm! It's not improbable," said Mexton, pulling his moustache. "I am
more inclined to believe in the guilt of Lovel than in that of Miss
Clyde. But I'll see her to-morrow and ask her for an explanation."
"She won't give it."
"In that case I'll tell Drek, and he'll force her to speak."
"Oh, dear! oh, dear!" sighed Mrs. Mexton. "It is truly terrible to
think of the way in which we have been brought into contact with
crime! And poor Dr. Lester in gaol!"
"He won't be in goal long," said Paul, with a satisfied nod.
"You are going to prove his innocence?" cried Iris, anxiously.
"I am; but I don't intend to leave him in prison until I do so.
To-morrow I'll get bail for him, and he will be a free man--at all
events till his trial."
"It is very good of you, Paul," said Iris, gratefully; and Mrs. Mexton
endorsed the statement with a nod of her head. She was a simple and
pious old woman, but not quite the company for two young and ardent
people. Her views on the matter of the murder were singularly crude;
and the point she dwelt on most was that Lester's loss and arrest were
a judgment on him for his long indulgence in the drinking vice. But,
knowing him as she had done, the most part of his life, she did not
believe he was guilty, and stated this opinion to Iris, who was much
comforted thereby.
"I do not love Dr. Lester," she confessed, "and I never approved of my
mother's second marriage. All the same, I should be terribly sorry to
see him hanged."
"Particularly for a crime of which he is guiltless," said Paul. "By
the way, Iris, you will have to return to Barnstead to-morrow for the
funeral."
"We are both going over," said Mrs. Mexton, patting the head of Iris.
"Poor Milly!"
And then they fell to talking about Milly and her many good qualities;
also about her beauty and charm. No mention was made of her faults,
seeing that she was dead, and that it is not well to speak evil of
those who have gone. Mrs. Mexton exalted Milly into a martyr, and Iris
endorsed the canonisation with tears. In the midst of this
glorification Paul slipped out and went to the office of the "Tory
Times" for a long night's work. He arrived back in the small hours of
the morning when Iris had retired; and left for Barnstead after eight
o'clock, before she was up. Therefore he did not see her again till
the afternoon, when he met her in Barnstead Cemetery at the funeral of
her unfortunate half-sister.
As usual, Paul rode over to Barnstead. Independent of his journalistic
earnings he had a small income, and it did not cost much to keep a
horse in the country. Riding was a great passion with the young man;
and he always declared that he thought better when in the saddle than
in the study. On this perfect summer morning, however, he was less
occupied with fiction than with real life. The murder case absorbed
his every thought, and he recognised that the mystery of Milly's case
could hardly have been surpassed in the detective novel of the day. He
was determined to discover who had killed the girl; and passed rapidly
through Barnstead towards Clyde's Farm in order to see the lady, and
ascertain what amount of truth there was in Brent's story.
The residence of Miss Clyde was a long, low house, with whitewashed
walls and a thatched roof, eminently picturesque, but not at all
practical. There was a homely flower-garden before it, filled with
marigolds, sweet-williams, southernwood and such-like Old English
flowers; these being the peculiar care of Mrs. Drass, who blended
gossip with horticulture. When Paul rode up to the gate, she was
pottering about with a trowel in her hand, and came to the gate to
meet him: but keen-eyed Paul Mexton noted that she did not seem
overpleased at his visit.
"This is a surprise, Mr. Mexton!" said she, as he alighted from his
horse, and tied the reins to the gatepost. "It is rarely that you
honour us with a visit--especially at so early an hour."
"I must apologise for the hour," said Paul, entering the house,
conducted by the ex-governess, "but I have to see Miss Clyde on
important business."
"About what?" asked Mrs. Drass sharply.
"Pardon me, dear madam," replied Paul, thwarting this curiosity with
great blandness, "but I shall explain that to Miss Clyde herself."
Mrs. Drass muttered something which Paul could not hear, and her
usually florid face was pale, as she preceded him into the
dining-room, where Miss Clyde sat at breakfast. That lady looked cold
and composed and masculine as usual; but she could not suppress a
start at the sight of Paul.
"So you want to see me on business, Mr. Mexton?" she said, when he had
explained himself. "Very good. Come into my study, and we will not be
disturbed."
"Can I come also, Selina?" said Mrs. Drass, who was extremely curious.
"Not just now," answered Miss Clyde; "later on I shall send for you."
So Mrs. Drass went back to her flowers with an unsatisfied curiosity,
while Paul and Miss Clyde repaired to the room, which the latter
dignified with the name of her study. In truth, it was more of a
bachelor's den than the apartment of a spinster lady; and its
furnishing was an excellent proof of the simplicity of its owner's
character. Miss Clyde sat down before the desk, which fronted the
window, and pointing out a seat to Paul, waited to hear what he had to
say. Knowing her direct and outspoken way of going about things, Paul
went directly to the point.
"I have come to see you about this murder, Miss Clyde," he said,
looking at her significantly.
"I expected as much," she replied quietly. "But what can I tell you
about it?"
"As much as you saw in the Winding Lane on that night," said Mexton
boldly.
"Who saw me in the lane?"
"Brent; he saw you following Milly and Mr. Lovel. Were you?"
"Yes; I followed them for a purpose."
"To kill Milly," said Paul, wondering at her coolness.
Miss Clyde shook her head, and opening a drawer, produced therefrom a
pistol. "I followed them to obtain that revolver," she said, and
handed the weapon to Paul.