CHAPTER XXVII.

THE EVIDENCE IN THE CASE.

Lady Gwendolen Brook, darkly handsome, exquisitely ready, even to her

hat, to leave Levallion Castle the first possible instant, took the

oath with a fastidious wonder as to where the little crowd of servants

had kissed the book.

It was quite exciting to be a witness; she felt aggrieved that the

jury were all “country frumps,” who might not appreciate the charming

picture she was making as she answered a few innocuous questions.

Presently she would give a dramatic recital of Levallion’s dreadful,

staggering fall as he drank the liqueur his wife had brought him. But

the gently spoken coroner suddenly put drama out of her head.

“Did you go to your room when you left the drawing-room last night

after dinner?” he said mildly.

Terror caught Lady Gwendolen by the throat. Did the man dare to think

it was she who had been to Levallion’s room to poison him?

“No!” she said sharply, angrily. “I went after Lady Levallion, to--to

ask if anything was the matter.”

“Why did you think anything was the matter--and how far did you go

after her?”

The second question made her ready to say anything to clear

herself--from what was not in any one’s mind but her own.

“I went to the head of the stairs outside her room,” she said, “and she

shut her door as I got there. I stood a minute in an open doorway, and

she ran past me in a cloak and hat--as I thought she would,” flurriedly.

“Why did you think it? And did you come down then? Did any one see what

you did, or where you went?”

Lady Gwendolen glanced wildly round the room as if for some one who

might prompt her. Jimmy Scarsdale had told her to hold her tongue

if she had to go on the stand, but Jimmy had not known this horrid

coroner would suspect her. She caught Houghton’s hard blue eyes, and

her last remnant of self-control left her.

“No, nobody!” she cried. “But if you think I went to Lord Levallion’s

dressing-room, I can show you I didn’t. I went after Lady Levallion

for fun, and to see if I could find out what her little game was. She

dropped a card--a torn card--at breakfast-time, and I picked it up; and

gave it for fun to Levallion. It had on it, ‘I’ll come back to-night.

Meet me,’ and I knew there was some lark on, I had almost forgotten

it, when Lady Levallion got a note in the drawing-room after dinner.

She was standing beside me, and she crumpled it all up in a hurry. She

said to herself, quite loud, ‘I’ll have to go,’ and she flew out of the

room.”

“All this has nothing to do with your movements, has it?” queried the

coroner politely.

“Everything!” She was what Lacy called “utterly rattled” and

frightened. “I thought Lady Levallion was going to slip out and meet--a

man--and I thought what a huge joke it would be on Levallion, who

had suddenly grown so domestic. When Lady Levallion passed me in her

outdoor things I ran to the turn of the stairs to see where she went.

And I heard Levallion come out of the dining-room and stop her. They

fought like cats and dogs, and I dared not go down till they moved. As

soon as they did I ran back to the drawing-room. I can tell you every

word they said if you like. I never heard him in such a temper. And he

had been annoyed all day, ever since I gave him that card.”

Houghton’s head was buzzing like a sawmill. There had been trouble,

then, of which he knew nothing. But he could not make it fit with that

memory of Lady Levallion’s face as she clung to the dead man. The

coroner’s voice steadied him to clear attention.

“Why did you give the card you found to Lord Levallion instead of his

wife? And how did you know it was hers?”

“Because I saw her drop it!” she answered the second question first, as

women do. “I gave it to Levallion for amusement, to see what he would

do. He had grown so very married and dull, and stuck his wife on such a

pedestal over us all, that I wanted to give him a jar. He told me with

all the air in the world that there was no one like her, and I wanted

to see if he meant it. I knew he must have heard every word she said

one night in the greenhouse to Captain Gordon about marrying him if

Levallion died. Colonel Scarsdale and I saw him----” She stopped. Jimmy

would throw her over for this, bag and baggage, and she needed him just

now. But the thing was beyond Jimmy’s jurisdiction already.

“Be good enough to say what you mean, clearly. You saw whom?”

“I saw Levallion moving away behind some orange-trees one night in the

conservatory. Captain Gordon and Lady Levallion were talking and he was

listening. They didn’t know he was there.”

“How do you know he was listening?”

“Because I heard some one behind me where I was sitting and I knew it

was not Captain Gordon and Lady Levallion, who were just in front of

us. I looked through the flowers and saw Levallion. He must have heard

every word they said. We did!”

“Who do you mean by we?”

“Colonel Scarsdale,” crossly. “He heard, too. He can say what he likes,

but he did!” for Jimmy would have to back her up now. This man meant to

know just why she had taken enough interest in Lady Levallion’s doings

to follow her. Otherwise she could not prove by any earthly means that

it was not she who had been prowling round Levallion’s dressing-room.

“Colonel Scarsdale will answer for himself,” slowly. “For just a few

moments more I must trouble you, Lady Gwendolen. Were you in the

conservatory by accident, or a thirst for amusement?”

“Accident--I don’t know,” she stammered. “Lady Levallion and Captain

Gordon had left the room where we were dancing, and they were gone for

such ages that they kept us waiting for supper. I went partly to get

cool, and partly to see if they were there.”

“And stayed to listen to their conversation?”

“I couldn’t get out,” angrily. “You don’t understand! They were on one

side of me and Levallion was standing still on the other. I could hear

his heart beat and his shirt-front creak. I couldn’t go past either

him or his wife.”

“Did what you heard repay you for your forced stay?”

“It was just the tail end of a silly flirtation,” viciously, “if that

is what you mean! Rubbish about her having to forget, and not being

able to get rid of Levallion to please him. And something about sending

Captain Gordon back a ring.”

“Yet you were sufficiently interested to listen.”

Lady Gwendolen shrugged her shoulders.

“It was interesting enough,” she said. “He said that in old times he

would have----” She stopped, her very blood seemed to stop in her; her

callous heart to turn over with horror. If she told what Gordon said,

and it was true, she was putting a rope round his neck. The thought

made even Gwendolen Brook sick.

“He would have what?”

“I won’t tell you!” she gasped.

“I am afraid you have no choice,” said the coroner quietly; and the

jury whispered together.

“He said in old times”--it was like dragging out every reluctant

word--“he would have poisoned Levallion, but now he could only go away.

I know he didn’t mean it!” wretchedly; “it was just flirtation.”

“Flirtation is apparently an elastic word,” Doctor Aston said dryly.

“Is that all?”

Lady Gwendolen had vices in plenty, but her blood and breeding went

against lying. She thought of her oath, of the Bible she had kissed,

of--and this went home--how useless it would be to perjure herself when

Jimmy Scarsdale might certainly give her away.

“I forget,” she gasped. But the coroner had seen her stop another

sentence on her tongue.

“I am very sorry, you naturally hesitate,” he said--and even Houghton

was not sure whether he was earnest or sarcastic--“but I must have the

whole, if you please.”

“Well, then, he said would she marry him if Levallion died!” defiantly.

“It meant nothing. I know a woman who gave a man a note about the same

thing. ‘I, so and so, promise that on the death of my husband I will

marry you, so and so, within a year.’ But, of course, she won’t do it!”

The jury gasped. They were not smart, but estimable county magnates who

were not accustomed to playing with the Ten Commandments.

Lady Gwendolen misunderstood the gasp, and rushed further into the mire.

“Of course I don’t wonder Captain Gordon was excited,” she cried

valiantly. “He was Levallion’s heir till his marriage, and the nurse

who looked after him while he was ill here told my maid that Lady

Levallion had been engaged to Adrian Gordon when she married Levallion!

The nurse heard them----”

“I think that is enough hearsay,” said Aston quickly. “You can step

down.”

“Cannot I go? Must I stay here?” with a disconcerted glance at the

roomful of servants.

“I must ask you to take a chair,” said the coroner absently.

“But you can’t want me any more!” wide-eyed. “You see, surely, that it

was only because I wanted to see if Lady Levallion was going out to

meet Captain Gordon that I went up-stairs after her.”

“Why did you think she had gone to meet him? He had gone to London.”

“Because the card said, ‘I’ll come back to-night’ and ‘meet me’; it was

signed A. G. What else could I think? But it was all silly nonsense.

You can’t think any of it had to do with----” But she did not finish

the sentence. Vain, heartless, empty-headed woman that she was,

Gwendolen Brook saw suddenly what her foolish evidence had done. She

had made a fool of herself, had brought Jimmy Scarsdale and herself

into a nice mess--and Jimmy would half-kill her. Of the anything but

nice mess in which she had involved her hostess she would not think.

She began to cry from terror and humiliation.

Monsieur Carrousel moved quietly forward from among the servants, and

handed pretty, foolish Lady Gwendolen Brook a chair.

Colonel Scarsdale came in stolidly, and when he saw Gwendolen’s face

hidden in her ring-laden hands was stolid no longer.

“She made an ass of herself!” he thought swiftly, and wondered what the

devil he was to do.

He pulled at his mustache as the questions began; he had no wish to be

mixed up in the thing, but, on the other hand, if Lady Levallion had

poisoned her husband--as he honestly thought she had--she could clear

herself. Downright lies, too, would be no use if Gwendolen had told all

she thought; which was probable, since she would not look at him.

“Will you be good enough to tell us what you heard one evening in the

conservatory?” said the coroner, blandly, and Scarsdale made up his

mind.

“There were so many evenings in the conservatory,” he said slowly, “I

don’t remember any particular one.”

Lady Gwendolen’s hands dropped from her face. Was Jimmy going to fail

her?

“On this particular evening you had danced. You went into the

conservatory to wait for supper. Did you hear any conversation, or know

that any one was there?”

“I heard a couple of people talking. I didn’t listen.”

“How near were they?”

“I couldn’t tell you. It was not very light.”

“Did you, on your oath, recognize the voices?”

“I couldn’t swear to them. One man’s voice is very like another’s when

he whispers.”

“Did you know the woman’s voice?”

“I thought at the time it was Lady Levallion, but I supposed she had a

right to be in her own conservatory.”

“In fact, you recognized her voice?”

“I may have imagined it.”

“Did you hear what the man said to her?”

“I heard the usual conservatory love-making,” calmly. “I couldn’t

repeat any of it.”

“Yet the lady with you heard distinctly!”

“Women have quicker ears,” hastily.

“Did you hear anything said about what might be done if Lord Levallion

died?”

“Yes,” said Scarsdale slowly. “But a man in love is no more accountable

than one in drink.”

“Did you hear Lady Levallion’s answer?”

“No! She whispered something, if it were she.”

“Was there any one else in the conservatory, to your knowledge?”

“There was some one behind us. I don’t know who it was.”

“Was it Lord Levallion?”

“I couldn’t say,” sensibly, “I certainly did not either see him or hear

him speak. I knew there was some one, but it might have been two people

for all I know. Levallion was in the picture-gallery with the others

when I got back. They were just going down to supper.”

“Was Lady Levallion there?”

“No! She was standing just inside the dining-room door when we went

down to supper. She was alone.”

“Is that all you can recall of the evening?”

“I think so. There was nothing to stamp it on my mind. Sir Thomas

Annesley’s dog ate some soup and was sick,” insolently. “I saw that at

supper.”

“Who gave him the soup?”

“Levallion. No one else took any,” slowly, struck for the first time

with the thought that there might have been a reason for Mr. Jacobs’

indisposition.

“Did you, from that evening, see any cause to take an interest in the

movements of Lady Levallion and Captain Gordon?”

“I suppose we all laughed a little at Levallion letting them flirt

under his nose. But they scarcely spoke to each other in public

afterward.”

“In that case, then, it was common talk that he overheard them in the

greenhouse?”

“People talk of anything in the country.”

But his half-truths had done more harm than good, except to get him

out of any further connection with the distasteful business. A juror

whispered something to the coroner; and Sir Thomas Annesley was called.

The boy’s brown face was thin and haggard. He had no thought of

where suspicion might go, but he had an honest misery in him because

Levallion lay dead upstairs. There was a moment’s diversion as Mr.

Jacobs, who came in with him, growled and bristled so fiercely that he

had to be removed.

“It’s Carrousel! The dog hates him,” said Sir Thomas angrily, as some

one said something about a “vicious brute.” “The dog is as kind as

milk.”

“Why does he hate unoffending people, then?” inquired the coroner, who

detested dogs.

“Oh! Carrousel was always hanging round where Levallion and my sister

could see him, and I suppose Jacobs knew they didn’t like it. I don’t

know any other reason.”

Monsieur Carrousel looked unjustly injured.

“Pardon, messieurs!” he cried, “but it never occurred to me until

milord said so, that it was forbidden for me to take the air on his

estate.”

“You kept on taking it, all the same,” said Tommy angrily. “I believe

it was you poisoned my dog, too!”

The coroner hushed him sharply.

“What do you mean about your dog being poisoned?”

“I mean Levallion did not eat his soup one night at supper and gave it

to Jacobs,” grimly. “The dog was sick, and I worked over him all night.

The vet. said it was prussic acid, and I thought he might have eaten

meat poisoned for poachers’ dogs, but I don’t think so now. I think it

was the soup that Levallion didn’t taste.”

Carrousel turned livid with fury.

“It was not poisoned in my kitchen, then!” he shouted. “Ask who was in

the dining-room before the other guests, first!”

“Another word and you leave the room,” said Aston quietly. “Sir Thomas,

are you convinced that poisoned soup was meant for Lord Levallion?”

“Since he was poisoned last night, I am,” grimly. “It was a

twenty-to-one chance against his giving it to my dog. Levallion had

soup every night.”

“Who do you think poisoned it?” bluntly.

“I don’t know. But I do know that there was a strange woman hanging

round outside the house that night, for Levallion and I both saw her.

He was angry because she was spying in the greenhouse, and he went

there to try and pounce on her. I think he knew who she was.”

“Do you mean she could have got in and put poison in Lord Levallion’s

soup? It sounds impossible.”

“Not when you know that they were having a sort of masquerade in the

house!” valiantly. “All the women were wearing black masks and had

their heads tied up in black rags. Any one might have walked in, for

the doors were all open, and all the plates of soup were standing ready

on the dining-table because we kept supper waiting. Any one who’d

looked in the window enough to know where Levallion sat could have

easily doctored his soup.”

“But the servants would hardly have let them?” incredulously.

The butler asked permission to speak, a ray of hope in his face.

“If you please, your honor, Sir Thomas is right,” he said. “After

placing the soup on the table I went to announce supper, and sent

the other men off to attend to various things, so that, when I got

back five minutes after, the room was empty. I didn’t wonder his

lordship did not eat his soup, for it was cold and uninviting-looking.

Her ladyship waited quite another five minutes for the party at the

dining-room door.”

“Her ladyship--Lady Levallion--was in the dining-room when you got

back?” evenly.

“No, sir! but outside the door,” respectfully.

But for one long instant Sir Thomas Annesley stood speechless with rage

and surprised horror. Would they dare to think it was Ravenel who had

done it?

The girl he loved · 第 27 / 41 章