MRS. ST. LEGER IS DISCREET.
"Is that all?" asked Brenda, drawing a breath of relief. "Oh, you
stupid boy, did you run away because you were afraid to tell me that?"
Captain Burton stared and drew a breath also--one of amazement. "Well,
it's hard to understand a woman," he said, half smiling, half annoyed.
"I made sure you'd cry your eyes out when you heard. Don't you
understand, Brenda, what it means? If we are to marry at all, it must
be on our five hundred a year?"
"And why not?" was her answer. "I am ready if you are, Harold. How
_could_ you give me all this anxiety for such a trifle? I want you, my
dear, not the money. But I thought you must have had some other reason
for going away."
"What other reason could I have had?" asked Burton, quickly, and
waiting apprehensively for her reply.
"Never mind. I'll tell you later. Only the twenty thousand pounds!
Well, after all, I'm not surprised to hear of the loss."
"_I_ was very much astonished, and very wretched when I heard it. I
can't take the loss of all that money as quietly as you seem to do,
Brenda. And not only mine has gone, but Wilfred's too. Forty thousand
pounds, and all his own fortune! Great Scot! the man must have played
day and night to get rid of it. What folly for my father to leave it
so completely in his power. If there had only been another trustee to
pull him up. I don't want to speak evil of the dead," cried Harold,
wrathfully, "but I could find it in my heart to curse Malet."
"No, don't, Harold. His terrible death was punishment enough. How was
it that Mr. van Zwieten came to know of this?"
"I can't say. He refused to tell me. But he did know, and he tried to
make me give you up on that account. Of course I told him--well, never
mind what I said--it was strong and to the point. Brenda, we have a
dangerous enemy in Van Zwieten."
"I always knew we had. And now that this crime has been committed he
is more dangerous than ever."
"How do you know that?" Harold looked anxiously at her.
"He threatened me the other day."
"Threatened you!--the hound! What did he say?"
"He told me, if I did not give you up and marry him, he would get my
father into trouble over Mr. Malet's murder."
"Does he suspect your father?"
"Yes, and no. He insists that father was cognizant of the murder, but
I think he puts the actual deed down to the man with the crape scarf."
"That may be true. Remember what I found!"
"I remember. I also made a discovery," and Brenda told him how she had
found the crape scarf burning in the grate of her father's study at
Chippingholt, how her father had asserted that he was the man seen by
Harold, and many other things. Indeed, she told him all she knew,
including her conversations with Lady Jenny, with Wilfred, with Van
Zwieten and with her father. Chin in hand, Harold listened
attentively, putting in a word now and then. When she had finished, he
looked utterly perplexed.
"It's all such a muddle I can't get at the rights of it," he said. "No
one will speak out straight, and every one seems to have something to
hide. Bad as Van Zwieten is, I don't believe he killed Malet. I don't
see what motive he could have had."
"Unless, as Wilfred says, it were for political reasons."
"Oh, Wilfred's crazy about politics," replied Harold, testily. "He
thinks of nothing else. It is a perfect mania with him. But Van
Zwieten would not be such a fool as to risk his neck because Malet
took up the cudgels against the Boers. No, Van Zwieten is innocent
enough."
"What about Lady Jenny?"
Captain Burton changed color, and commenced to pace up and down the
room. "She wouldn't have done it. She is half an Italian, I know, and
fearfully passionate, but I think she'd stop short of that. Besides,
although she is a jolly good shot, I doubt very much if she could hit
a man in the dark like that so square as to kill him outright."
"But remember, Harold, the shot was fired at close quarters."
"I don't believe she'd have had the nerve for that. Of course it's
quite possible she may be guilty, but there's not a scrap of evidence
against her as far as I can see."
"What about the crape? Lady Jenny wore crape!"
"That doesn't prove that this scrap was torn from her dress. The crape
trimmings on that would lie close to the dress; it wouldn't be so easy
for a man to make a clutch at them and tear a piece off as at a scarf,
with the ends floating freely. My belief is that the morsel of crape
was torn from the scarf."
"Well, it was not worn by my father, in spite of what he says."
"No. I dare say that man who left Chippingholt by the late train is
the man who fired the shot. But your father knows all about it,
Brenda. Otherwise he would not insist that he had worn the scarf, nor
would he have burnt it as he did. I think with you that this unknown
man is a relative of your father's, and that your father is shielding
him to avoid the disgrace of having a criminal in the family."
"Aunt Judy would know him if he is a relative."
"That is very probable; you had better ask her."
"Harold, do you think Van Zwieten knows the truth?"
Captain Burton hesitated. "It would seem so," said he, "but I don't
think he is very sure of the truth, or else he would speak out."
"He threatens you, dear."
"I know he does. He threatened me at Chippingholt. Brenda, I don't
deny that the man is dangerous, and that he knows more than I like him
to know. It is in his power to harm me, and if I marry you he will do
his best against me. But that sha'n't stop us, Brenda. We'll get
married and defy him."
Miss Scarse signified her full approval of this course of action; but
she saw that her lover was keeping something back.
"Harold, what else did Van Zwieten say to you at Chippingholt?"
"Oh, nothing of any consequence," replied her lover, uneasily.
"My dear!" Brenda slipped her arm round his neck and drew him down on
the sofa beside her. "If you love me, you must trust me. If you think
me a sensible woman, you must be honest with me. I know you had some
other reason for leaving Chippingholt so suddenly--it was not
altogether because you were afraid of telling me about the loss of
your money. Van Zwieten told me he could get you into trouble, and now
you say the same thing. Tell me what hold he has over you?"
"He has no hold over me," whispered Harold. But she saw that his
forehead was beaded with perspiration.
"Tell me--tell me?" she repeated.
"Brenda--I cannot--I dare not."
"Then there _is_ something?"
Captain Burton cast a glance round the room and nodded. "I am not a
coward," he groaned; "I hope I am not a coward, but there are some
things which make the bravest man afraid. Van Zwieten is a devil!"
"Does he accuse you of the murder?"
"No, he doesn't go so far as that, and yet--Brenda," he cried, taking
her hand and holding it so tightly that she could have screamed,
"don't ask me any more; it is not my own secret."
"Has it anything to do with my father?"
"Partly; but you need not be anxious about that. He is in no danger.
Leave me to fight it out with Van Zwieten. I shall get the better of
him yet. No, no, Brenda, don't ask me any more questions; you cannot
help me; I must go through with this matter alone. Trust me if you
love me."
"I ask you to do that with me," said Brenda, sadly, "and you refuse."
"I don't refuse. I cannot tell you now; I will tell you when you are
my wife. Listen! we must get married quietly."
"Why quietly?"
"Because I am afraid of Van Zwieten. Yes, you may well look
astonished. I, who have never known fear before, fear him. He knows
too much, and if he plots against me I cannot counterplot him--at all
events for the present. We must marry!"
"When and where you please, darling."
"You trust me?"
"Yes, on the understanding that when I am your wife you tell me
everything--everything!"
Burton nodded again. "I will tell you before if I can, Brenda. It is
good of you, and like your dear self, to trust me. We can be married
at St. Chad's, at Brighton. I'll get a special license. Down there we
shall be free from interference by Van Zwieten."
"He would not dare----"
"Oh, yes, he would--if he knew. He would take some means of preventing
our marriage."
"And you would let him do that?"
"I--I might, and I might not." Captain Burton sighed wearily. "If it
were only myself I would not mind, but--but there are others whom I
_must_ consider."
"Harold, you are shielding some one!"
"Yes--no. Brenda, dearest, for Heaven's sake don't question me."
She was perplexed by his indecision--annoyed by his reticence. But she
had given her promise, and she would abide by it. "You will not let me
help you?" she said plaintively.
"You cannot help me, dear; I must go through with this matter
alone--unaided."
"But I can help you," she insisted. "Van Zwieten is our enemy. Well,
then, Lady Jenny can help me to crush him."
He started nervously. "What are you saying? Lady Jenny can do
nothing."
"Indeed she can, Harold. She told me that if Van Zwieten ever proved
troublesome I was to see her, and that she would thwart him."
Harold made no reply, but looked more than ever puzzled and perplexed.
Then a light broke in upon Brenda.
"Harold! it is Lady Jenny herself you are shielding?"
"I won't--I cannot tell you," he replied desperately. "Brenda, I'll
see Lady Jenny myself at once. If she knows anything about Van
Zwieten, I may be able to make use of her knowledge. Come, say
good-bye."
"When shall I see you again?"
"In three or four days. Promise me, Brenda, you won't see Jenny until
I do."
"I promise. But if you fail with her, then I must see her."
"Yes, if I fail, but I won't fail. You have put a weapon into my hand.
After I have seen her, I will tell you the whole miserable business.
We will get the better of Van Zwieten yet, my darling."
Captain Burton was picking up his spirits. He went away in a more
cheerful frame of mind. Brenda felt certain that his refusal to speak
was in the interest of Lady Jenny. Could she have fired the shot? But
that seemed impossible. If she herself were guilty, how could she
silence and thwart Van Zwieten, who appeared to know so much about the
crime? What with her father's denials, Harold's silence, and Van
Zwieten's threats, Brenda was quite bewildered. What would be the
outcome of it all? she wondered.
Having promised Harold not to see Lady Jenny, Miss Scarse cast about
in her mind as to who else could assist her in thwarting Van Zwieten.
From her father no help could be obtained. He was wholly on the
Dutchman's side, and, it would appear, under his thumb. Then she
thought of Wilfred and his openly-expressed hatred of Van Zwieten.
Could she not make use of that? In the present state of popular
feeling a Boer spy would have a bad time if found in London. If
Wilfred could discover that Van Zwieten really was on the Secret
Service Staff of the Transvaal, he could force the Dutchman to leave
England under threat of denouncing him to the authorities.
No sooner had she come to this conclusion than she acted upon it, and
wrote a note to Wilfred's London address asking him to call. Having
posted it, she returned to the drawing-room to make tea for Aunt Judy,
who had just got back from her shopping. The colonel was still absent,
so the two ladies settled themselves down to the discussion of
chiffons. If there was one thing Mrs. St. Leger was fond of it was
dress. As for Brenda, her mind was too much preoccupied with her own
troubles to care much for fashions or bargains. But strive as she
might to hide her indifference, it did not take her aunt long to see
that her interest was assumed. But that she put down to her lover's
visit.
"Why didn't he stay to tea?" she asked, putting away her purchases.
"Because he had to get back to Aldershot," replied Brenda, pouring out
the tea. "They are very busy down there."
"Oh, Brenda, do you think there will be war? How glad I am that
William has retired."
"That is not the speech of a true soldier's wife, Aunt Judy."
"My dear, it's all very well talking," replied Mrs. St. Leger,
testily, "but you don't know what war is. I don't mean these little
frontier skirmishes, but a real war--that is truly terrible. I
remember the Crimea."
"I don't think this will be so bad, auntie. The Transvaal is not
Russia."
"All the same I fancy they are better prepared than, we think. William
says so. He has heard all kinds of rumors at the club. Well, if it's
got to be it's got to be. You will have to lose your Harold for a
time, dear."
"In a good hour be it spoken," cried Brenda, hastily, to avert the
omen. "Don't say I'll lose him, aunt. Of course he will go to the
front; but don't speak of losing him."
"Well, you never know, my dear. Oh, Brenda, I do wish your father were
not going to speak at this mass meeting. There is sure to be trouble."
"I don't think he'll mind that," said the girl. "My father and those
who think with him are doing all they can to bring about the war by
confirming Kruger in his obstinacy."
"Stuart always was wrong-headed and obstinate," sighed Mrs. St. Leger.
"I'm sure I tremble when he comes here. William and he do nothing but
wrangle."
"Aunt Judy," said Brenda, thinking the present a good opportunity, "do
you know I am deplorably ignorant about my family?"
"Ignorant, my dear? how do you mean? Your mother, I know, was a sweet
woman, and died all too young. If she had only lived Stuart might have
been very different."
"I was thinking more of my father, aunt. Is he your only brother?"
Mrs. St. Leger almost dropped her cup. She looked scared and her face
blanched. "Why do you ask me that, Brenda?" she asked in a faltering
voice.
"Because I have seen a man so like my father as to make me think he
must be some relative--possibly a brother."
"Where did you see him?"
"At Chippingholt. Aunt Judy, tell me, who is he?"
Mrs. St. Leger recovered herself. "My dear Brenda, how should I know
who the man is? You have been misled probably by a chance
resemblance."
"The resemblance was too strongly marked to be mere chance. And my
father--" Brenda checked herself. "Auntie, surely you can answer a
simple question?"
"What is it you want to know?" asked the old lady, nervously.
"Have you two brothers?"
"No. Your father is my only brother," said Mrs. St. Leger, but by the
way in which she said it Brenda knew that she spoke falsely.