The company of Edwin was very welcome to Claudia, as she now had an
outlet for her grief. She could talk freely to him and receive the
comfort which she very greatly needed, although even his consoling
words did not entirely quieten her. Like the girl, Craver could not
bring himself to believe that the buccaneer was guilty. There seemed
nothing for it but to see the man and question him closely.
Claudia therefore determined to journey to London, not only to
interview her father, but also to see Mrs. Vence. Edwin's suggestion
that the old housekeeper should be questioned struck the girl as
remarkably sensible. Mrs. Vence had been in the house when the crime
took place, and although she had given evidence with apparent
frankness at the inquest, it was just possible that she might have
withheld certain facts. If forced to speak she might say something or
suggest something likely to throw more light on the darkness which
environed the tragedy. She resolved to see the housekeeper first and
her father afterwards. What with Mrs. Vence's story and the pirate's
explanation the truth might come to light.
The difficulty was to find Mis. Vence, who had disappeared into the
unknown immediately after the inquest. Since leaving Hedgerton, so far
as was known, she had given no sign of her existence, and Claudia
wondered how the address of the old creature could be found. Finally,
she resolved to ask Mrs. Mellin when that good lady came with the
washing to the Rectory.
Mrs. Mellin had never seen Mrs. Vence, as Neddy had always taken the
clean linen to Maranatha and had conducted the business between the
housekeeper and the laundress. But Mrs. Mellin might have learnt
something from Neddy, who was always very inquisitive regarding other
people's affairs. It was possible that Mrs. Vence had mentioned her
destination to the boy in which case he would certainly have repeated
the information to his mother. Therefore she waited for the coming of
the washerwoman to carry out her scheme.
For over a week Edwin remained in Hedgerton, and daily flew the
aeroplane over land and sea, much to the delight of the parishioners.
The spectacle attracted man, woman, and child so greatly that there
was little work done in the village during these exciting days. They
talked of northing else, and the faces were always turned skyward to
see the aeroplane skimming and rising and sinking and falling, and
generally disporting itself into space. The Rector and his wife,
seeing what command their son had over his machine, lost much of their
dread of an accident. It was mainly for this reason that the young man
brought tie aeroplane to Hedgerton, and gave daily exhibitions of his
skill. Once his parents became used to aviation, he guessed that they
would not worry over his ascents at Hendon.
Claudia, of, course, never believed that any accident would befall her
lover and did not need any proof that he was a competent pilot. It was
firmly fixed in her mind that Edwin was destined to save her father,
to cut the claws of Lady Wyke, and to marry her. Nothing would happen
to him likely to prevent his carrying out this programme, as she felt
convinced. Therefore, she saw Edwin soar without feeling the slightest
anxiety, and even offered to accompany him. But this her lover would
not agree to. His nerves were not strong enough to permit his carrying
in the perilous machine all that he valued on earth. So Claudia
remained on the ground and Edwin skimmed the clouds, both resting
content in the knowledge that everything was alright, or would be
right in future.
Lady Wyke had not come to see the arrival of Craver because business
had taken her to, London. When she returned, a note inviting the young
man to Maranatha arrived at the Rectory, Claudia did not wish Edwin to
go, but the visit was paid all the same, as Craver thought it was just
as well to try and learn what Lady Wyke intended to do. Claudia's
interview must have enraged her, and it was possible that she had gone
to London to take steps likely to make immediately public things best
kept private. After some discussion Miss Lemby saw that it was best
Edwin should have the interview, and accordingly, she gave him
permission. So Edwin sought Maranatha towards the end of the week; and
Claudia, during his absence, questioned Mrs. Mellin.
The washerwoman arrived on her usual day, and Claudia managed to
attend to the sorting of the clean linen herself. As there was no time
to be lost and the kitchen was empty for the time being, Claudia put a
point-blank question. "Do you know where Mrs. Vence is to be found?"
she-asked abruptly.
Mrs. Mellin stared. "Lor' bless my soul, miss, 'ow should I know?"
"I thought Mrs. Vence might have told you where she was going when she
left Hedgerton."
"Well, she never did, miss. I didn't 'ave much truck with Mrs. Vence,
for Neddy took the washing to the 'ouse and brought it back again.
Never did I set eyes on that ole woman, 'cept I saw 'er in the
distance at the inquest. An' may I be so bold, miss, as to know why
you was so wishful to find 'er?"
Claudia was quite prepared for this leading question, and saw no
reason for making a secret of her intentions. "Well, you know, Mrs.
Mellin, I was engaged to marry Sir Hector, when it appeared that his
wife was already--I mean, still in existence."
"An' a good thing she turned up, miss," said Mrs. Mellin, with
dignity, "else a wicked case of bigamy would 'ave bin in the papers,
my sister Laura not bein' a lamb to lie down quiet-like.
"Well, then," pursued Claudia, when she was allowed to speak, "I
naturally feel that the assassin of Sir Hector should be captured and
punished. It struck me that Mrs. Vence may know."
"Lor' bless me, miss, she said all she could say at the inquest."
"Ah, but did she? That is what I wish to find out, Mrs. Mellin.
However if you don't know her address--"
"I really don't, miss," interrupted the washerwoman; "but Laura might
know."
"Lady Wyke?"
"My sister, miss. Lor to think as I should be connected with the
gentry. Long may they live in the land. Not as Laura's proud, she
'avin' proved otherwise by comin' to me, who am 'er own born relative,
an' taking Neddy in 'and. Yuss, miss. Laura might know, as she 'unted
up Mrs. Vence arter the inquest to 'ear what she'd to say concernin'
the tragidy. It ain t much use you seein' Mrs. Vence, miss, if I may
be so bold as to say so. Laura didn't find nothin' to 'elp catch the
gory villain who bolted on the bike, so I don't expect as you'll git
anythin' out of 'er."
"All the same if you can get the address I should be glad."
"I'll try my hardest, miss, Heaven bless, you," said Mrs. Mellin, and
this particular conversation ended with the entrance of the Rector's
wife, to whom the washerwoman dropped a curtsey. Claudia, having done
the best she could, went away to attend to other work, leaving Mrs.
Craver to count the washing and hear the news. There was much to be
done upstairs, as spring-cleaning was in progress, so Claudia worked
like a Trojan, both to help her prospective mother-in-law and the
aching of her own heart. While working and giving her attention to
every-day things, she could not worry, and managed to pass the time
profitably, and tolerably easily until Edwin returned. She heard his
step in the hall immediately he opened the front door and flew down
swiftly, all agog for news.
"Well? Well?" she asked, I anxiously, and drawing him into the
sitting-room.
Edwin put his arm round her waist and looked at her queerly. "I am
coming in for a fortune," he observed, in an abrupt manner.
Claudia stared. "What do you mean? Sit down and explain."
Edwin sat down and did as he was told. "Lady Wyke is furious at you,
and wants to make you suffer for shaking her as you did. She told me
that she never did believe me guilty, and only said so to annoy you
and to trap me into marriage. She thought that I would give in, and
make her my wife rather than face the worst."
"Well, she found out when I saw her that she was mistaken," said
Claudia, tartly. "Yes, she did, and now has gone on a new tack. She
doesn't intend to force me into marriage, because she cannot. But she
went to London the other day to make a will in my favour. Yes, you may
stare, Claudia, but Lady Wyke told me that if she dies I got five
thousand a year. The will is made, signed, and witnessed, and Mr.
Sandal holds it."
"Pouf!" said Claudia, contemptuously. "Mr. Sandal knows that the will
is wastepaper. I wonder Lady Wyke thinks you are such a fool as to be
taken in with that bluff."
"Is it bluff!" asked Edwin, looking puzzled. "How?"
"Why, don't you know that a will made before marriage is null and void
if the marriage takes place?"
"No. I never knew that. Few people do know it, I fancy."
"Lady Wyke believed that you were ignorant, and so has simply been
trying to bluff you into marriage with her. She has made the will to
bribe you; but she knows that if you marry her the will becomes
wastepaper. See?"
"I see. Anyhow, whether the will is destroyed by her or not, I don't
intend to marry her. Therefore, unless she alters the will, it stands
in my favour. Not that I want the money, Claudia."
"Nor I," said the girl. "However, you made Lady Wyke understand that
you would remain true to me?"
"Yes. And she made me understand that she was heartbroken, and had
done what she could to help me by making this ridiculous will. And she
won't proceed about my affair, as she sees that by so doing she will
be no closer to her goal. For the time being she intends to remain
quiet, in the hope that this business will soften me."
"But you told her it wouldn't?"
"I did. Only she won't believe me. However, Lady Wyke is safe for the
time being, so meanwhile we can see your father and Mrs. Vence, and
get at the truth of the matter. As to the will, we needn't think
anything more about it."
Claudia agreed with this, and wondered that so clever a woman as Lady
Wyke was should act foolishly. Then she related the conversation with
Mrs. Mellin to Edwin, and hopefully said that the address of Mrs.
Vence would surely be forthcoming.
Edwin demurred. "Not if Lady Wyke has to give it," he said. "She ii
not such a fool as to let you find out anything from Mrs. Vence likely
to spoil her game."
But the young man proved to be a false prophet, for Mrs. Mellin
arrived on that same evening with the address. It appeared that Mrs.
Vence was living in a Pimlico lodging-house, and for the time being
was out of work. Possessed of this information, Claudia arranged to go
to London next day with her lover.
Next morning Edwin fixed a sidecar to his motor-bicycle, and ran
Claudia into Redleigh in time to catch the ten-thirty London express.
In an hour and a-half they arrived in town. Then Edwin went to Tenby
Mansions at Earl's Court to prepare Lemby for his daughter's visit,
and Claudia took an Underground train for Victoria, in order to seek
Mrs. Vence in Pimlico. Craver wished to come also, but Claudia
insisted that he should look after her father. It was necessary that
she should see him as soon as possible, and as the buccaneer was here,
there, and everywhere, she urged that Edwin would find him and watch
him and hold him at home. With this agreement the young people parted,
Claudia promising to be at the flat at three o clock, or a trifle
later.
There was no difficulty in finding the whereabouts of Mrs. Vence, as
the very dingy lodging-house she lived in was not far from Victoria. A
slatternly woman with a suspicious eye admitted grudgingly that Mrs.
Vence was indoors, and, after some arguing, conducted the visitor into
a dirty bedroom on the third floor. Here sat Mrs. Vence near the
window, coughing and sneezing and groaning and moaning. Her ancient
face was more withered and brown and seamed with wrinkles than
formerly, and on the whole she looked very old and worn and
disagreeable. With a shawl round her head, and a little table covered
with medicine bottles at her elbow, the old woman sat with her back to
the window, shivering with ague and whimpering with pain. Claudia's
stately beauty seemed to annoy her, for she snarled when her visitor
sat down, and they were left alone by the slatternly landlady.
"I don't want fine ladies to come and see me, drat you," grumbled the
old creature, crossly. "I'm ill with inflewinzy, I am, and I do hope
as you'll get it."
Claudia smiled at this amiable wish, and apologised. "I am sorry you
are ill, Mrs. Vence. But I have called--"
"About gitting me to look arter your house?" interrupted Mrs. Vence.
"Well, then, I can't, me being that ill as never was."
"No. Don't you know my name? I gave it to the landlady. Lemby is--"
"Ho!" Mrs. Vance coughed and stared and grunted after her scrutiny.
"So you're his daughter, are you?"
"I am the daughter of Mr. Oliver Lemby, if you mean that," said
Claudia, with dignity, "and I have called to----"
"Ho!" Mrs. Vence coughed and for the third time. "I know why you've
called, my lady. And it 'ud hev been better if you didn't hev called."
"Why?" Claudia was startled.
"'Cause I thought as every think was dead and done with about that
murder. I hev 'ad it on my nerves day and night, wondering if I should
speak or not."
"Speak?" The girl rose and turned white with emotion. "My father----"
"Yuss," said Mrs. Vence with relish, "your dear par murdered him sure
enough."