THE DEFENCE OF MISS CLYDE.
It was not to be denied that the conversation between Miss Clyde and
the journalist had opened in a highly dramatic fashion. Mexton,
prompted by the recollection of Brent's revelation and accusation--had
in sufficient plain language accused her of murdering Milly Lester. In
answer to this Miss Clyde had placed in his hands a revolver which she
admitted having obtained possession of on that fatal night. The
unfortunate girl had been shot; Paul asked himself if the crime had
been consummated by the weapon which Miss Clyde had produced, and
which, in a somewhat dazed fashion, he held in his hand.
"No," said his hostess, reading his thoughts in his face; "Milly was
not killed by a shot from that pistol. But she might have been."
"I don't understand what you mean," stammered Paul.
"It is not difficult to understand," rejoined Miss Clyde, shrugging
her fine shoulders. "I took that pistol from a would-be murderer."
"Mr. Lovel?"
An angry red flushed the hard face of the woman, and she made a
gesture of contempt for the lack of imagination Paul displayed. "Mr.
Lovel, indeed!" she said contemptuously. "He had as much to do with
the crime as I had! No; I took that pistol from Dr. Lester."
"Lester! Then he is innocent!"
"Entirely. He should not have been arrested."
"Then why did you not prevent his arrest by producing this revolver at
the inquest?"
"Oh, I had my reasons for that," said Miss Clyde, with an emphatic
nod; "these I will tell you later. In the meantime, Mr. Mexton, please
to assure yourself that the revolver you hold in your hand is actually
the property of Dr. Lester. Look at the silver plate on the butt."
Paul did so, and on the small silver oval found the name "R. Lester"
engraved in Gothic letters. Nodding in his turn, he replaced the
weapon on the desk; and as it was loaded, he deduced from such fact
another point in favour of Lester.
"I see there are cartridges in all six barrels!" she said quickly.
"Yes; Dr. Lester did not fire even one barrel; so you see he did not
kill his daughter."
"Then who did?"
"My dear Mr. Mexton, I know no more than you do!" said Miss Clyde
candidly. "I see that from the evidence of Brent--a rascal whom I
discharged from my employment--that you suspect me. Well," she laughed
in an ironical manner, "I can clear myself; not only can I do so, but
I can prove the innocence of Dr. Lester."
"Will you do so to me?" asked Paul eagerly.
Miss Clyde looked him coolly up and down. "Really, Mr. Mexton, I do
not see why I should," was her response; "you do not represent the
law."
"Not officially. But Inspector Drek has accepted my assistance."
"Has he? And why have you offered it?"
"Because I wish to save Dr. Lester from being judicially murdered."
"I think that lies in my province rather than in yours," said Miss
Clyde, smiling; "but I suppose the real reason that you are acting as
an amateur detective lies in the fact that you love Miss Link?"
Paul smiled also. "I can't say that I do," he replied; "we are more
like brother and sister than anything else. But I don't deny that I am
sorry for her on account of her loss."
"You need not be," retorted Miss Clyde with disdain; "there was no
love lost between Milly and Iris; in fact, they disliked one another."
"Oh, I should not say that," protested Paul, shocked by her want of
sentiment.
"Aye, but I shall say it! Milly was going to marry Mr. Herne, and Iris
was in love with him; quite enough motive there for two women to
fight."
"No doubt," rejoined Paul, with significance; "jealousy between women
has caused many a crime."
"Is that a hit at me?" asked Miss Clyde, good-humouredly: "because, if
it is, it falls short of the mark. You infer that I was jealous of
that poor dead girl because Lucas Lovel made love to her."
"Report says so."
"Report says many things that are untrue," retorted Miss Clyde
contemptuously; "but in this case the gossips were not altogether
wrong. I love Mr. Lovel, as you know very well; as all the countryside
knows. Why should I conceal my feelings? I have no one to think of but
myself, and I can look after myself very well, I assure you. Lucas--I
can call him so to you, Mr. Mexton, as this is a confidential
conversation--is a scamp, and a weak-minded fool; but I love him for
all that. Queer, isn't it?"
Paul looked at the masculine strength of the woman's face, into her
shrewd eyes, and at the firm set of her mouth. "It is queer," he
admitted; "you do not look the sort of a woman to be attracted by a
wastrel like Lovel."
"Nevertheless I am; by the law of contraries no doubt. Well, I admit
that I was jealous of his preference for Milly Lester. Her beauty and
fascinations of manner excited my envy; and as she had the whole
neighbourhood at her feet, I grudged that she should take my
ewe-lamb."
"The whole neighbourhood!" echoed Paul.
"Well, Mr. Herne, Mr. Lovel, and Mr. Chaskin. The pick of the
countryside."
"Nonsense! Mr. Chaskin did not love Milly!"
"There you are wrong," rejoined Miss Clyde drily. "He adored her, and
only crushed down his passion because of his friendship for Herne. Oh,
I know it for a fact. Mrs. Drass found it all out."
"She finds out everything!" said Paul tartly--"just like a social
detective."
"She does," assented Miss Clyde coolly; "but she is not omniscient,
else she would know who killed poor Milly. I find Mrs. Drass very
useful, I assure you, Mr. Mexton."
"I quite believe it. But to continue your confession."
"Oh, you need not dignify my story by so great a title! I am not in
the dock yet, Mr. Mexton! I assure you I shall prove my innocence to
you very plainly. Where was I?"
"You were informing me that Mr. Chaskin was in love with poor Milly."
"Ah! that is a side issue. Mr. Lovel was also in love with the
unfortunate girl, and I did not approve of his passion, as I wanted
him for myself."
"You were jealous?" said Mexton, more plainspoken than polite.
"I was," said Miss Clyde calmly; "the most unromantic of women have
their vein of sentiment--their passion. Lucas is my passion, and I
love him dearly. I was very jealous of his preference for Milly, and I
was angry with her for encouraging him. She was engaged to Mr. Herne,
and should have remained true to him. On the night of the murder I saw
Milly leave during the service; and Mr. Lovel followed the moment it
was concluded."
"To meet with Milly?" suggested Paul.
"Yes, I thought so; and I was determined to put a stop to such
meetings by giving Milly a good talking to, and threatening to tell
Mr. Herne. You need not look at me so severely, Mr. Mexton," continued
Miss Clyde, throwing back her head. "Milly was behaving badly towards
Herne, and even if I had not been in love with the man she was
flirting with. I think, as an older woman, and one who had known her
from childhood, I had the right to point out to her how wrongly she
was acting."
"No doubt, Miss Clyde; but you chose a bad time for such
interference."
"I deny that," said the lady tranquilly. "Milly always denied to me
that she met with Mr. Lovel; and he lied in the same way. My only
chance of reproving the pair properly was to catch them together.
Therefore I told John--my groom, you know--to drive on to the house of
Dr. Lester, whither Mrs. Drass had gone to consult him; and I went in
search of those two young fools."
"Did you find them?" asked Paul, rather foolishly it must be
confessed.
"What a question, after what Brent told you!" retorted Miss Clyde.
"Yes, I found them--but not at once. Lucas gave me the slip, and I
searched for him in the wrong direction--down by the river, where I
thought they might be wandering under the willows. They were not
there, however, though I wasted some time in looking for them. At
length it struck me that they might be in the Winding Lane; and when I
got there I saw them sure enough. But I must confess," said Miss Clyde
with much disgust, "that I wondered they should choose a place haunted
by all the rustic lovers of the neighbourhood."
"There were no rustic lovers on that night."
"No; I believe they had all gone to some revival meeting at the
Methodist Chapel. It was half-past eight when I got to the lane, and I
saw only Brent coming down towards the village."
"Yes; to meet Jane Bilway in St. Dunstan's Square, and take her to the
Methodist Chapel."
"Hm! and he met me apparently following Lucas and Milly," said Miss
Clyde; "wherewith he accuses me of the murder. I'll be even with him
for that--the brute! As a matter of fact, I did not see the two until
I passed Brent; then I espied them walking arm-in-arm towards the
stile which leads on to the common."
"Did you speak to them then?"
"No," confessed Miss Clyde frankly, "for to tell you the truth, I did
not like the part I was playing. It was too like that of a spy. I
stopped at the other end of the lane--near the town--and waited till
they should come back, when I intended to meet them as if by accident.
But I never saw them again that night. Poor Milly!" sighed Miss Clyde,
"I little thought I had looked on her pretty face for the last time."
"How was it you did not see them again?" asked Paul curiously.
"Because they did not return to where I was; stopped to talk at the
stile, no doubt. I waited for ten minutes, and then I heard a man
singing and shouting. He came from the town, and could not get over
the stile into the lane. I heard him saying something about killing
Lovel, and I noted that he held a pistol. At once I went up to him,
and found--as I expected from his condition--that it was Dr. Lester."
"Quite drunk?"
"Senselessly drunk, but able to stumble along. I thought that if he
met Lucas in the company of his daughter he might fire at him, so I
dismissed all idea of seeing the young people again and devoted myself
to getting rid of Dr. Lester. I took the pistol off him, and being
quite incapable of resistance, he gave it up readily enough. Then I
wheeled him round, and taking his arm, I led him home."
"What!" cried Paul, starting up, "did you take him back to his house?"
"I attempted to," said Miss Clyde; "but he turned restive, and wanted
to go back to the lane. I then coaxed him out into the country, on the
road to my own house. But I only got him a very little way when he
suddenly became too drunk to stand, so I dragged him into some bushes
beside the road, and as it was a fine night, I left him there to
recover his senses. I suppose he stayed there till dawn, and then made
his way home."
"What did you do?"
"I put the revolver into my pocket and walked home. The next morning I
heard of the murder, and of Dr. Lester's arrest."
"Did you hear the shot?"
"No; I suppose I was too far on my road homeward to hear it, or else I
was not paying attention. At all events, I heard nothing."
"Why did you not tell all this to Drek, and prevent the arrest of
Lester?"
"My friend," said Miss Clyde, gravely, "I was determined to give Dr.
Lester a lesson--such a lesson that in future he might restrain
himself from indulging in drink. I thought, when I heard that he was
arrested, that the thought that he had killed his own child might
induce him to take the pledge. If this lesson does not teach him
temperance, nothing will; for if I had not taken the pistol off him,
he might have killed, if not Milly, at least Lucas. I intended to go
to Drek to-morrow and tell him the truth, and get Lester bailed out of
gaol."
"Your lesson is rather a severe one," said Paul thoughtfully; "but
perhaps it is needed. If anything can make a sober man of Lester, his
imprisonment on such an awful charge will change him. I remember now
that he confessed at the inquest that he met someone, but was too
confused to say whether it was a man or a woman. It must have been
you."
"Yes, it was I, Mr. Mexton. While I was leading him away from the
Winding Lane I did not see a soul. As to the red mud on his clothes,
you remember I told you how he fell while trying to get over the
stile."
"I see you can clear Lester," said Paul with emphasis, "but what about
Lovel?"
"Well," said Miss Clyde interrogatively--"you don't suspect him of the
crime?"
"I don't know; you left him with Milly!"
"I daresay; at twenty-five minutes to nine; but he no doubt left her
before nine o'clock, when the murder was committed."
"He can't prove that."
"He hasn't had a chance of doing so," retorted Miss Clyde, visibly
disturbed.
"Pardon me; he had at the inquest, and he lied."
"Well, we won't discuss that," said Miss Clyde, rising. "I am sure Mr.
Lovel is innocent, and can prove his innocence if needful. I have told
you all I know, Mr. Mexton, and I'll tell Drek to-morrow. I suppose
I'll see you at the funeral this afternoon?"
"Yes," said Paul, gravely. "I shall be at the funeral," and then the
two parted.