THE AIRSHIP
Who had removed the diamonds? That was my thought for the next
twenty-four hours, but I could not answer my own question. I certainly
remembered how Striver insisted that Mr. Monk had secured possession
of the fortune. But only by getting possession of the eye could he
learn where the jewels were hidden; and by Striver's own showing he
had not been thus fortunate. Only when destroying the eye had he had
it in his hands, and then, instead of reading the cipher, he had
thrown the coin upon which it was written into the Thames. Moreover,
for many months Monk had been masquerading as Wentworth Marr, and had
possessed the money to keep up the farce. Undoubtedly--as I thought,
after much reflection--the story of Australian legacy must be true.
Mr. Monk, on the face of it, could not have looted the beam of its
valuable contents.
But what astonished me was that Monk should have thrown away the coin,
although it was natural enough that he should have destroyed the eye.
But why did he not at least attempt to read the cipher? It seemed to
be an extremely easy one, as the repetition of the beam's carving on
the coin suggested the Latin motto. The reversed letters suggested a
little hard thinking, but presented no great obstacle. The late
Gabriel Monk had cut away the inscribed board, and behind had hollowed
out a place for the reception of the diamonds--in a bag, I presume.
Also he had cut out the first and last letters of the saying in
circular form, and to these had attached pieces of iron. When the
letters were placed straightly these pieces of iron caught on to the
inner part of the beam, and so held the inscribed board; when
reversed, they released the same. It was ingenious but not difficult
of solution, and I wondered that Monk had not read the cipher. If he
had, he certainly would have guessed that the beam in The Lodge
smoking-room held the jewels, and in that event would have searched.
On this assumption I thought that the man could not have examined the
cipher. But why he should not have done so puzzled me considerably.
However, the case stood thus: Monk had returned to America, or at all
events had left England; Striver also had taken his departure, and the
jewels which belonged to Gertrude had disappeared. The gardener
intended--so he said--to tell the truth and unmask the assassin of his
aunt, but unless he intended to denounce himself when at a safe
distance, I could not imagine what he intended to say. So far as I
could see there was nothing to do but to wait some communication from
Striver. Meanwhile I urged Gertrude to marry me during the first month
of the New Year.
"But I am afraid to marry you until the truth about Anne's murder is
known, Cyrus," she objected. "Aunt Julia still threatens me."
"Let us go and see your aunt now," I said. It was next morning that
this conversation took place. "We can explain matters to her, and she
will be forced to see that you are innocent. After all, she only
desires the half share of the fortune. When she learns it is lost she
will hold her tongue, having nothing to gain by talking."
Anxious to end all suspense, Gertrude agreed, and we paid an early
visit to Miss Destiny. In the cold greyness of the day her tin house
looked more dismal than usual, and as we walked through the jungle
path I wondered how a lady bred and born could live in so miserable a
place. She was not rich, certainly, but she could have afforded a
better dwelling. Yet I daresay she was happy enough in her sordid
home, since all she cared for was money, and, so long as she possessed
actual gold to gloat over, cared little for the comforts it could
bring. It was a strange way of finding happiness.
Miss Destiny opened the door herself, as Lucinda--it appeared, from
what she said--had gone to buy some food in the village. The little
old lady was dressed in her usual threadbare black silk, with the
addition of a knitted woollen shawl over her spare shoulders. She
looked extremely shabby: also pinched and haggard. But her black eyes
were as bright as ever, and she seemed to possess considerable
vitality in her wiry frame.
"The lovers," she said, with a shrill laugh, and inviting us to enter.
"So it is not to be Joseph after all, my dear Gertrude."
"It never was Joseph," replied her niece quietly. "Aunt Julia, I have
asked Cyrus to come and see you about this threat you used to me."
"Threat!" Miss Destiny raised her eyebrows. "My dear child, I used no
threat."
"You said that if Gertrude did not give you half of her fifty thousand
pounds when found, that you would tell the police she had been to
Mootley."
"Oh, I really didn't mean that, Mr. Vance," said Miss Destiny,
cringing. "It was only a joke on my part."
"Then you don't accuse me of murder?" asked Gertrude, bluntly.
"No, dear. Certainly not."
"And you don't want half Gertrude's fortune?" I questioned.
Miss Destiny's eyes narrowed and she looked venomous. "I certainly
should have half the money. Gabriel said that he would leave me a
legacy, and he did not. Yet I slaved for many years looking after his
house."
"You got board and lodging for your services," said Gertrude coldly.
"I ought to have got a legacy," insisted Miss Destiny. "Gabriel
promised me some money. But he left his income and the property to
Walter and the rest of his savings to you. You owe me half, and I mean
to have half. I don't say, dear," added Miss Destiny significantly,
"that you murdered Anne. But if the police knew that you had paid her
a visit to ask about the eye you might be asked unpleasant questions."
"I did not ask about the eye, because I did not know until later that
the eye contained the cipher," said Gertrude calmly, "but after
reading the diary I certainly went to ask Anne to give me the cipher,
so that I might find what rightfully belonged to me."
"Half of it only," snapped Miss Destiny, "and you certainly ran away
with Mr. Vance's motor car, because I saw you myself in your white
cloak. If you are innocent--mind, I don't accuse you of murder--but if
you are innocent, why did you run away so strangely?--a guilty
conscience: a guilty conscience, my dear."
"Miss Destiny," I said indignantly, for the malice of the little
creature annoyed me, "it was Joseph Striver who wore Gertrude's cloak
and ran off with my car. He told us so himself."
"So you say," she sneered.
"And I say more. Listen," and forthwith I related all that had been
discovered, down to the destruction of the glass eye and the throwing
away of the silver coin by Walter Monk. Miss Destiny listened
unbelievingly, and with a sneer. Apparently she did not credit a
single word of what I was saying. But when I came to the end she
interrupted me with a scream.
"The eye destroyed, the eye destroyed!" she cried, starting to her
feet with surprising activity. "Oh, what a fool, what a fool! Now the
fortune can never be discovered."
"It has been discovered," put in Gertrude.
"What!" Miss Destiny wheeled round venomously and eagerly. "You have
found the diamonds you told me that Gabriel mentioned in his diary?"
"We have found the hiding-place," I said sharply. "Striver sent me a
copy of the cipher, which he took when the eye--as I have told
you--was in his possession."
"Then give me half, give me half!" shrieked Miss Destiny. "If you
don't I'll go to the police. I swear I'll go to the police. I
don't believe this young man's lies. You were in the house and
you--you--you----" She choked with anger.
Gertrude arose, revolted by this exhibition of sordid greed, and could
not speak. I answered for her. "The jewels are gone, Miss Destiny," I
said quietly.
"Gone!" Her shrill voice fell to a mere whisper, and the wild light of
avarice died out of her black eyes. "Gone! impossible!" then her face
lighted up again fiercely. "This is a lie to cheat me of my share!"
she shouted.
"Even if the jewels had been found," I remarked, in a cool, level
voice, "you would have had none of them, since they belonged to
Gertrude. I am strong enough to save her from your malice. Either
Striver or Walter Monk is guilty. If you go to the police I shall go
also, and tell what I have told you----"
Gertrude caught my arm. "No, Cyrus, no. My father----"
"Dear, this is not the time for half measures. You did your best to
save your father by refusing to tell me. But if he is guilty he must
be brought to book, if only to thwart this woman's evil intentions."
"Oh, have done with your chatter," cried Miss Destiny, stamping like a
small fury. "Tell me the truth. Are the jewels indeed gone?"
"Yes. You will never see them again."
"Who took them? I insist upon knowing who took them?"
"I don't know. If I did I would get them back again."
"Then hunt for Joseph Striver," said Miss Destiny furiously, "he is
the thief."
"Impossible. He sent me the cipher."
"Yes," she sneered, "after he had stolen the jewels he could easily
send you the cipher. But he had the eye, by your own showing. He must
have read the cipher. He had taken the fortune. Oh," she shook her
fists in the air, "I wish these two hands were at his throat."
The little creature looked so evil, as she shook and quivered in the
sordid room, that I touched Gertrude's shoulder. "Go away, dear. This
is no sight for you." Then, when she obeyed me and passed outside, I
turned to Miss Destiny. "You will understand that the jewels are lost
for ever."
"I'll hunt the thief down; I'll hunt him down," she breathed savagely.
"Even if you do, the half share will not come to you. I will look
after Gertrude's interest."
Miss Destiny laughed shrilly. "Ah, you marry her for her money. What
love!"
"Gertrude at present has no money, nor do I want any money with her.
But if Striver has the jewels he shall be forced to give them up.
Meanwhile, if you say a word to anyone against Gertrude I shall tell
my story."
"I'll say no word until the jewels are in Gertrude's possession. It is
not worth my while to say anything until then. But when she has the
fortune I shall have my half, or she shall hang."
"You are mad," I said, recoiling from her venomous looks.
"Yes; mad at being tricked and cheated by Joseph Striver. Oh, I know
the man. I might have guessed that he would not keep faith with me.
The fortune is gone, the fortune is gone," and she dropped into a
chair.
"Yes," I said, with my hand on the door; "therefore hold your tongue."
Miss Destiny only crouched in the chair rocking herself to and fro.
"The fortune is gone," she moaned; "twenty-five thousand pounds was to
have been my share. I have lost twenty-five thousand pounds. Oh me! oh
me!" And leaving her still weeping and wailing over the loss I
departed.
Whether Miss Destiny was right or wrong regarding Striver's possession
of the diamonds I could not say. Day after day went by and the
gardener did not appear to denounce the assassin of his aunt as he had
arranged to do. Nor could he be found anywhere, although I employed a
detective to search for him. We discovered that Mr. Monk had given up
the lease of his chambers and had sold his furniture. He had
disappeared to America, and evidently had no intention of returning.
But his lawyer still continued to pay Gertrude enough to keep The
Lodge going and herself in clothes. But Striver had vanished like a
water bubble; he had dissolved into thin air, and all we could do was
to wait until he chose to reappear. I pointed out to Gertrude that,
Miss Destiny's mouth being closed--she would not speak until the
jewels were recovered, a very remote contingency--and her father along
with the gardener having passed out of our lives, it would be best to
get married. Then we could leave Burwain and settle in London. As Mrs.
Vance she would forget all the storms of the past, and with me as her
companion could journey under brighter skies. But Gertrude refused
steadily.
"Until my name is absolutely cleared by the assassin of Anne
Caldershaw being brought to justice, I shall remain as I am, at The
Lodge."
"And what if the assassin is your father, Gertrude?" I asked.
"I don't believe it," she replied firmly. "Papa is weak and selfish,
but he would never murder an old woman so cruelly. I believe that
Striver is guilty, and has got my fortune, as Aunt Julia says."
"In that case he'll never tell the truth."
"He said that he would save my good name, and I believe that he loves
me enough to do so. Wait, Cyrus, wait; the end will come and the truth
will come to light. Only then can I marry you."
With this promise I was forced to be content, and remained at the
Robin Redbreast, which seemed likely to become my permanent home. With
Gertrude I spent a quiet Christmas, as Cannington had to return to his
duties at Murchester, and Weston was invited to spend the festive
season at Lady Denham's country house. There he saw a great deal of
Mabel, and she relented from her attitude of snubbing him, for he came
back during the first week of the New Year with a joyful light in his
eyes.
"Congratulate me, Vance. Mabel has accepted me as her husband."
"Oh," I shook his hand warmly, "I congratulate you with all my heart,
since you have secured a charming wife. But can I congratulate Mabel
on the possession of an absent-minded husband?"
"Oh, I am not so bad as I was," said Weston, with quite a new ring in
his voice. "I have had my lesson, Vance, and see that Mabel requires
some attention: in fact, a very great deal. When we marry she shall do
as she pleases, and have all the money she wishes to spend."
"I think she would rather have love," I said gravely.
"I give her love," he snapped rather crossly. "I'll be with her morn,
noon, and night if she wishes. All I have to do is to launch my
airship, and then I shall marry Mabel and be happy ever afterwards."
"Having solved the problem of flying?" I queried.
"I really believe that I shall do so," he said, his face lighting up.
"Come and see my airship, Vance. Next week I intend to try a flight.
It's nearly ready. I have asked a reporter down from London, and will
admit the public into the yard, and we shall have a great day."
"Is Mabel coming?"
His face fell. "No; she says she is jealous of my airship. But she
will come down to take a trip in it when I make a successful flight. I
asked Cannington, but he can't get away from Murchester. Never mind.
You will be there, and you can bring Miss Monk."
"Thanks, but we sha'n't trust ourselves in your confounded balloon."
"It's not a balloon," flared up Dicky angrily, and for the rest of the
evening he explained his ideas. I was not sufficiently an engineer to
appreciate the cleverness of them.
During the week before Weston's trial flight, a rumor ran through the
village, which surprised everyone. It was said that Miss Destiny
intended to go away from Burwain. As she had lived in the village all
her life and seemed to be as deeply rooted as a tree, it appeared
strange that in her old age she should venture to seek fresh fields
and pastures new. But I guessed that she intended to go in search of
Striver, whom she believed had possession of the jewels. I tried to
get speech with her, but she would not admit me into her house, nor
would she come to The Lodge in response to an invitation from
Gertrude. I wished to learn if she knew the whereabouts of the
ex-gardener, since I guessed she was bent upon finding him. But I
could not learn where she was going, although Lucinda set the rumor
afloat in the village that her mistress intended to leave Burwain. But
I could guess the devouring flame of avarice in Miss Destiny's heart
which made her thus uproot herself. She would go through fire and
water to get the jewels, which she believed Striver possessed, and I
found myself pitying the man, guilty as I believed him to be, when I
thought of that halting Nemesis of a witch coming up to his side. Miss
Destiny was starting on the chase, and she would never stop hunting
until she pulled down her quarry. Death alone would end her pursuit.
However, the days passed by and she still lingered in her miserable
home. Burwain began to wear quite a festive air during those early
January weeks, for reporters came from London to inspect the airship,
and many idle people gathered outside the yard to pick up chance
information. Dicky showed me his craft at a private view, and
explained the mechanism to me, with certain reservations touching upon
his particular method of flying. His secrets, I understood, had to do
with the steering of the vessel, and with some way he had of driving
her forward in the teeth of the wind. I am so ignorant of technical
terms that I cannot explain much that he told me: nor would it be
fair, since inventors do not wish their ideas to be stolen. But I grew
almost as excited as Dicky when the great day arrived.
It was a Tuesday morning, fine and sunny, with scarcely a breath of
wind, and the inventor could have secured no finer weather for his
attempt. A crowd of people from Tarhaven and Gattlingsands and other
places came to see the experiment, and quite a number of reporters had
appeared, representing the most popular London journals. The gates of
the yard were thrown open, and a considerable crowd gathered within
the hitherto inviolated precincts. Amongst them I walked, with
Gertrude beside me. Everyone in the village was there, I verily
believe, to see the novelty of an airship taking flight. Even fat John
Gilfin, with his nearly as stout wife, waddled along, looking at the
queer machine bulking largely in the middle of the yard.
The airship consisted of a slim, cigar-shaped bag, netted over. From
this a long narrow trough of basketwork was slung, at each end of
which was a propeller. The light machinery to drive this was in the
middle, but this being hidden under a bonnet of tin, I could not see
what was used to set the wheels working. That was one of Weston's
secrets. The inventor himself was busy in the trough adjusting various
parts of the gear, and shouting out orders to different workmen. The
whole ship itself was bound to earth by sundry ropes and was tugging
and straining at them like a thing of life. When those ropes were
loosened the ship would flash up into the air like a released bird,
and then Dicky, seated behind his machine in the basketwork cradle,
would show his skill in steering it this way and the other. As the
wind was extremely faint, he would have every advantage. I forgot to
say that there were steering vans like wings spreading from the
trough, and these could be raised or lowered at will. But, wanting
technical knowledge, as I have explained, I fear my description of the
famous craft is not particularly good. It was an airship, that was all
I knew, and I was curious to see it climb the sky.
Amongst the crowd I unexpectedly saw the quaint little figure of Miss
Destiny, dressed in black as usual. I pointed her out to Gertrude, and
we tried to get near her, as I was still curious to learn if she had
any idea of Striver's whereabouts. But she kept her keen eyes on our
every movement and dodged us with such success that we never could
approach her.
"What can she be afraid of?" asked Gertrude, perplexed.
"She's afraid of being asked questions," I replied.
"I believe she knows where that man is to be found--though Lord only
knows how she can have learned his whereabouts. She intends to run him
down and get the jewels all to herself."
"But what will she do with them?" asked Gertrude, bewildered.
"Gloat over them," I replied shortly, "but see, the airship will soon
be on the point of starting. Six ropes," I added, pressing forward,
"if it needs that strength to hold down yon huge bag of gas, I wonder
how Weston proposes to reach earth again. He'll have to remain a sky
bird for ever."
The interest of the crowd became intense as four of the ropes were
loosened and the airship strained desperately at the remaining two.
Weston, as he afterwards informed me, had a method of releasing, or
separating the gas in some way, whereby he could descend if he chose.
Then, by connecting up the gas again in the cigar-shaped bag, he could
ascend. I do not exactly understand how it was managed, but it had to
do with the transmission of gas from the upper bag to a lower one
under the trough, which I only noticed when the four ropes let the
ship float a trifle high.
Although interested in the airship I was much more taken up with the
movements of Miss Destiny. She likewise became absorbed in the start
of the strange craft, and forgot for the moment to keep her eyes on
us. I drew Gertrude's arm within my own and stole forward to where she
was pressing gently through the watching crowd. Gertrude uttered an
ejaculation, and pointed towards the gate.
"There is Lucinda," she said, in startled tones, "and two policemen
with her."
I looked, and sure enough Lucinda walked beside a stern-faced man in
plain clothes, whom I knew. He was none other than my old friend,
Inspector Dredge of Murchester. Behind walked two burly policemen, and
they all four came steadily towards the crowd gathered round the
airship.
"What can be the matter?" whispered Gertrude agitated.
I thrilled, as a premonition of what the presence of Dredge meant,
flashed into my mind. However I had little time for consideration, as
the second rope was released from the ground and Weston curled it up
within the car. Only one rope remained to be loosened. As Weston laid
his hand on it to draw it up, giving the signal to the men below to
let go, Lucinda's cry, wild and shrill arose.
"Fly, mistress, fly! They're after you: they'll get you: they'll----"
a policeman's hand on her mouth stopped her further speech.
Miss Destiny, who was immediately in front of me, turned quickly at
the sound of the girl's voice. Her face grew deathly white when she
saw the Inspector forcing his way towards her, and she looked round
like a trapped animal. Heedless of the roaring of the crowd, excited
by the sight, Dredge came up to Miss Destiny and laid a heavy hand on
her shoulder. "I arrest you in the name of the King for the murder of
Anne----"
He got no further. Miss Destiny with a sudden snarl twisted out of his
grip, at the very moment Weston gave the signal for the men below to
loosen the last rope. Being in the fore front of the crowd, she sprang
into the open space and ran forward.
"Take me with you, take me with you," she screamed, and, as the men
let go of the rope, she grabbed hold of it with desperate and
inconceivable quickness.
The next moment the airship shot up into the radiant sky, and at the
end of the rope, which dangled from the car under Weston's hands, Miss
Destiny spun like a spider. She uttered no sound, she made no
movement, but hung on desperately while the ship soared. I caught a
glimpse of the amazement on Weston's face as it lessened before my
eyes. A shout of terror at the little woman's terrible position came
from the crowd. Dredge stood where he was, paralyzed, and Gertrude
screamed with fright. Lucinda beat her hands in despair.
The ship soared and swung to the right, and that black figure still
clung to the rope. Weston--as we could see--was making preparations to
descend, but owing to some difficulty could not get his gear to work.
By this time the ship was at a considerable height, and everyone was
watching with terror the happening of this midair tragedy. How Miss
Destiny hung on so long I could not guess: she seemed to have the
strength of a fiend. Suddenly a gust of wind caught the ship, as she
receded, and the rope, with the little figure twisting at the end,
swung towards the rear of the car. In a second it was in the grip of
the stern propeller, and we saw the sudden jerk of the rope upward. A
moment later and it was jerked out of the gripping hands of Anne
Caldershaw's murderess. She fell, a speck through the blue sky, and a
groan went up from the crowd at the sight of that terrible death.