The Riddle of the Purple Emperor
CHAPTER VI
THE CRY IN THE NIGHT
Lady Margaret Cheyne awoke suddenly.
As Cleek had surmised, left to herself, she would have slept onundisturbed for hours, but the sharp sound of opening and closing doors,the buzz of voices, and blaze of light, caused the forget-me-not blueeyes to open and stare dazedly round her. For the moment she thought shewas back in the seclusion of the convent.
"Am I late, sister?" she murmured drowsily. Then as she grew widerawake, the recollection of the events of the last hours swept over her,and with this came the memory of her journey, and all the misery that ithad entailed. With a little cry, half mental pain, half physicaltiredness, she started up, and her eyes fell on the figure of theHonourable Miss Cheyne, who stood at the side of the chair, a lamp inhand, looking anxiously down at her.
"Auntie," cried the girl joyfully, and grasping at the hand put out toher, she remembered only just in time not to kiss her aunt, for MissCheyne had invariably hated caresses.
"Oh, you are back at last. I missed you at the station----"
"So I should think, my dear," said Miss Cheyne, grimly. "I've had theservants looking for you, such lazy devils as they are, gobblers all ofthem. I've been looking for you, and I find you here all the time. Iwant to know who the person was who brought you." She finished as sheturned to put the lamp down on a table.
"I don't know who he is, except that his name is Lieutenant Deland,"cried Lady Margaret, "and that he is a friend of a lady who was on theboat, Miss Ailsa Lorne, who was so good to me. Oh, Auntie, I was sosick. I shall never go back again. I simple couldn't go through it."
"No, no, you shan't, my dear," said Miss Cheyne, almost amiably for her,"you shall have a good time over here, but now you are tired out, andmust get to bed. I don't keep any servants, so you'll have to set to,and do for yourself--the lazy good-for-noughts, they eat you out ofhouse and home! John shall get you something to eat and drink, my dear,and then to-morrow we'll have the house to ourselves."
Lady Margaret was too tired to argue, even if she had thought of sodoing, and she knew of her aunt's parsimonious habits.
She certainly did not like the look of John, who leered into her face ashe brought a glass of what was presumably lemonade and a plate ofthickly cut bread and butter, which she could not touch. She wasthirsty, however, and carried the glass quickly to her lips, only to beput down with a shudder as she detected the flavour of strong spirit.
"I don't think I want anything, Auntie, after all, only just to go tobed."
"Nonsense, my girl, you drink it up sharp," was the response. "You'llcatch your death of cold driving about with strange men at night. Come,down with it."
"Better hurry up," said John, significantly, and even Lady Margaret'stired mind took in the strangeness of the remark coming as it did fromher aunt's butler.
With a little puzzled frown, the girl took a long gulp of the liquid,then fled up the staircase, pausing at the first landing only longenough to pick up a candle.
"Good-night, Auntie," she called down to the bejewelled and rougedfigure standing at the bottom. "I'll be better to-morrow."
With a little nod she vanished, and the listeners heard her lightfootfall on the bare staircase of the second flight. A moment laterthere came the click of a door shut to. Lady Margaret had retired forthe night.
A sigh of relief came from Miss Cheyne's lips and she met the peculiarlook of her servant with one equally significant.
"Send Aggie up to her," she commanded, "and don't forget to lock herin."
With this remark she turned on her high-heeled shoes, and mincedpainfully back to the dining room.
Whether it was the effects of her journey, or what was more likely thestrong spirit in the lemonade, Lady Margaret slept as soundly as theproverbial top till close on mid-day, when she was awakened by the roughentry of the person designated as "Aggie."
She was a queer-looking maid, Lady Margaret thought to herself, withrough, unkept hair, and strangely roughened and stained fingers.
She did not like the way the woman looked at her as she banged on thetable a cup of weak tea and some thick slices of bread and butter.
"Here you are, Miss--yer ladyship, I mean," she said in harsh cockneytones which made Lady Margaret wince unconsciously, accustomed as shewas to the soft, pure French of the good nuns at Notre Dame. "An' thequicker you gets up and attends to yerself, the better I shall likeit," the woman continued, muttering more to herself than to the girl."It's a bit more than I bargained for."
"That will do very well. I shall not require anything more, and pleasetell my aunt I shall be with her directly."
"I don't doubt you will," responded the blunt Aggie in a rathersurprising manner, then without another word she swung on her heel, andstalked out of the room, banging the door behind her.
"What an awful creature," said Lady Margaret as she jumped lightly outof her bed. "I shall get Auntie to discharge her very soon. Oh, I am sothankful to be home," and she ran lightly to the window and looked out.With all the resilience of youth, she seemed a different being thismorning from the worn-out, fragile child who had been driven home lastnight by Lieutenant Deland.
A few minutes later she ran lightly down the staircase and into thedining room where she found the Honourable Miss Cheyne deeply absorbedin the morning newspapers.
She greeted her niece a little gruffly, but knowing her eccentric ways,Lady Margaret took but scant notice. It was not long, however, beforeshe realized that her future life was not to be entirely a bed ofroses.
"I am going over to see Miss Lorne to-day, Auntie," she said presently,"and to thank her for getting me out of my difficulties."
"Got us into them, you mean," snapped Miss Cheyne angrily. "She's adesigning adventuress trying to scrape acquaintance with you, so thatshe can say she is a friend of Lady Margaret Cheyne! Oh, I know thebreed, she and her blessed accomplice, Beland, or Deland, or whateverhis name is, they were probably on the watch for you, and managed tocarry you off before I arrived on the scene. I forbid you even tomention their names again, much less speak to them."
"Oh, Auntie!" pleaded poor Lady Margaret, her bright young face cloudingat this unexpected ban on a friendship to which she had looked forwardwith such pleasure. "I am sure you are mistaken, and Miss Lorne saidthat she was coming to see you to-day and explain----"
"Well, if she has the impertinence to come here," snapped Miss Cheyneangrily, "she will not be admitted. Don't you dare to argue with me,child, or back to school you'll go. I'm not going to have you driveabout with strange men just as you like, so don't you think it----"
"I told you last night how it happened," responded Lady Margaret in alittle gust of impatience. "I slept in the car all the time till I gothere. I don't know what I should have done had it not been for MissLorne, anyway, and especially on board ship."
Miss Cheyne's thin lips set in a straight, grim line. "Well, the bestthing you can do is to forget her, or else send her some money, probablyshe'll value that more," she retorted with heat, shaking a finger in thegirl's face. "Don't forget you have something more important to think ofthan designing minxes and pert Lieutenants, if he is really a genuineofficer, which I doubt. Anyhow, I shall take you up to town next weekout of their reach, for one thing, and for another to celebrate yourcoming of age. Then you will have all the Cheyne jewels, don't forgetthat----"
Lady Margaret was young enough and human enough to forget temporarilyher grief for Miss Lorne's rejected friendship in the idea of seeing, tosay nothing of wearing, the famous treasures of her family.
"Oh, Auntie!" she cried. "I had forgotten them, are you really going tolet me see them?"
"You shall do more than that, my dear," replied her aunt almost amiably,"you shall wear them. I mean to have you presented at Court, and youwill certainly have to wear some jewellery then. I don't suppose youknow anything about the pieces themselves. I myself have forgotten----"
"Oh, yes, I do," said Lady Margaret, "don't you remember t
he list fathergave me in his last letter, in case there was any trouble? I don'tremember all of them, but I know there were three strings of pearls, abig diamond necklace and tiara, ever so many rings, and of course thePurple Emperor!"
"Oh, yes, I had not forgotten _that_," said Miss Cheyne drily. "It issomething one is not likely to forget."
"But I don't think there's any need to have that out, Auntie; do you?"asked Lady Margaret with a little tremor of fear in her voice. "It's notparticularly beautiful. In fact, I don't suppose it looks much differentfrom an amethyst, and father used to say it was best at the bottom ofthe sea."
"That's because he knew no better and spoke like a fool," snapped MissCheyne, her voice quivering with excitement, and as the girl looked upat her, she saw a face that was changed out of all recognition,distorted as it was with avarice and envy. "I want them all, I tellyou--all! They ought to have been mine and I want to see them before Idie. Do you hear me?"
"Oh, of course, Aunt Marion," said Lady Margaret, astonished at theunexpected outburst. "You can have them and wear them, too. I shan'twant them, that is, until----" she broke off, her face crimsoning.
"Until what, pray?" demanded Miss Cheyne, sharply, switching round andlooking at her.
"Until--well, until I get married. I meant to have told you before long,but I am going to be married some day to Sir Edgar Brenton----" Shepaused as if waiting for another outburst, but to her intense amazementMiss Cheyne only laughed.
"Marry, well, so you shall, my dear, if you want to, and your jewelswill be a good wedding present." She gave a little chuckle whichmystified the girl still further.
"Meanwhile," went on Miss Cheyne, as if to change the subject to otherthings, "you had better get upstairs and unpack your boxes. Don't expectAggie to help you, she has enough to do downstairs."
"Oh, I don't want Aggie's help," responded Lady Margaret quickly with awry little smile. "She wasn't exactly charming, and I must say I don'tquite like the look of her. Can't you get rid of her, Aunt? I'm sure sheis not honest, and that man, too. If we are going to have the Cheynejewels here----"
"We are," snapped Miss Cheyne, "and don't you trouble your head aboutwhat doesn't concern you, my dear. You leave John and Aggie alone. I'llsettle _them_."
Lady Margaret said no more but ascended to her room, thinking in herinnermost heart of many things. She could only dimly remember her auntwhen she had been allowed to spend her holidays at Cheyne Court, but sheknew she was eccentric, and because she herself had been jilted in heryouth hated all men.
Still she did not mean to be made a prisoner of. She was determined tovisit not only Miss Lorne, to whom she had been undeniably attracted,but also, and this she considered far more important, Lady Brenton, themother of the man she had pledged herself to marry in those stoleninterviews under the walls of Notre Dame.
Thanks to Miss Cheyne's many requests, Lady Margaret had little time topay visits or write letters that day, and when night did fall, she wasglad to crawl into bed and sleep the sleep of youth and healthy fatigue.
She slept soundly for hours, but all at once she was rudely awakened.From the depths below that supposedly sleeping household came a queerbumping noise, and it seemed to the terrified girl, as she sat up inbed, that the very house was being torn to pieces.
Conquering her natural fears she rose, and donning a dressing gown,unconsciously tried the handle of her door.
To her amazement it was locked on the outside, _locked_! She was aprisoner in her own house!
Burglars were Lady Margaret's first thought, and she pulled vigorouslyat the door. At first it resisted, but to her delight the old lock,rotten with age, gave way under her vigorous onslaught. A second latershe was descending the staircase, bent on rousing Miss Cheyne orobtaining assistance.
She had reached the bottom of the first flight, amid complete silence,and for a moment she thought she had heard the sounds only in her dream.
But at the head of the stairs she stood hesitating when from all aroundher came a sound as of a soul in agony, a horrible moaning cry thatchilled her very heart. Startled and terrified she gave a shriek, andlosing her balance, came hurtling down the shallow staircase. Her slimankle was twisted under her, and she lay there for some time, a little,moaning, writhing heap.
When Lady Margaret awoke to consciousness, it was to find herself oncemore in her own room, with Aggie, the pert serving maid, bendinganxiously over her.
"What was it?" she cried out, clutching feverishly at the grimy,toil-worn hand of the girl. "Oh, what was it? Didn't you hear it?" Shestruggled to get up, but sank back with a moan at the pain in her ankle.
"Hear what? Lawks o'mussy, but you gave us all a turn, Miss--yerladyship," said the woman roughly.
"But the horrible noise!" shuddered the girl.
"That? Why, it was one of the dogs. There's a dog ill down in the cellarand that's what you heard," retorted Aggie. "A nice twist you've giventhis ankle of yours. It's a good job; Auntie--the mistress--I mean,knows something about sprains."
"Does she?" asked the girl wearily, her mind still bent on the horriblesound. Appallingly human it was; no dog could have screamed like that,she felt sure. It was the hurt cry of a human being in pain.
"Yes, you bet, and here she is." Aggie relinquished her place,apparently only too gladly, to Miss Cheyne, who appeared with lotionsand bandages, and literally took possession of the patient. Her long,slender fingers manipulated the swollen ankle with the experience andprecision of a trained hand.
"Now, my lady, you'll just _have_ to be still and patient," she saidgrimly. To Lady Margaret it seemed as if this eccentric relative were byno means ill-pleased at the catastrophe which had overtaken her niece.
"I thought it was burglars, Aunt Marion," said the girl, as MissCheyne's eye fell on the splintered lock, "and that reminds me, I waslocked in----Did you know that? You won't dare to keep that womannow----"
"You go off to sleep, and I'll inquire into it," was all Miss Cheynewould say, and with that the girl was obliged to rest content. But whenshe fell into an uneasy sleep, it was with the profound intention to askEdgar Brenton's advice at the earliest opportunity.
A sprained ankle is not a dangerous occurrence, but it is sufficientlypainful and depressing to be worthy of more anxiety than was expendedover Lady Margaret.
Rendered practically a prisoner she had only to rely on such books andmagazines as Miss Cheyne brought up to her and the days passed veryslowly indeed.
She wrote letters to Sir Edgar and to Miss Lorne, bribing Aggie withsuch coins as she possessed to post them, unknown to her aunt.
No answer came to them, though Aggie swore that they had been sent tothe post, and later the girl was not surprised to find them in thepossession of Miss Cheyne, opened and mutilated.
At intervals she heard the dull, distant moans, but had schooled herselfto believe Aggie's statement.
On the first day that she could walk about her room she was almosthysterical with delight.
For once, too, Miss Cheyne relaxed her firm manner.
"I suppose you know what to-morrow is, my dear," she said, lookingalmost furtively at her niece.
Lady Margaret thought a moment, then gave a little cry of delight.
"Why, it's my birthday, of course, and I'm eighteen."
"Yes, and what is just as important," said Miss Cheyne, "you are theowner of the Cheyne jewels. We're going up to town in the morning tobring them back."
"Bring them all here?" cried Lady Margaret, startled at the odd look inthe black, flashing old eyes. "Do you think it safe enough? Thievesmight break in. Why not leave them, at least some of them, where theyare, Aunt Marion. It is safer, surely!"
"Because I want them. I want to see them," Miss Cheyne snappedferociously. "I'm curious, you know, more curious than you are. And Imean to have them here."
"Just as you like, Aunt. I want to see them, too, only I was thinking ofthe danger."
"There is no danger. I am having special safes made for themdown
stairs," said Miss Cheyne. "If you have them here you can wear themwhenever you like without having to go up to those thieving lawyersevery time you happen to want them."
Lady Margaret agreed, but deep down in her own mind she felt that shewould prefer to leave the Cheyne jewels in the safe custody of Messrs.Shallcott, Woodward & Company in London. On the other hand, she hadgained an unspoken victory in regard to her future marriage.
Indeed it seemed to her as if Miss Cheyne had but one obsession: to seethe Cheyne Court jewels. Her inexplicable antipathy even against AilsaLorne seemed to have died a natural death. When Lady Margaret, albeit atrifle timidly, ventured to hint at a visit to her newly found friend,Miss Cheyne said pleasantly enough:
"Yes, if you like my dear, after we come back from London, then there isno reason at all why you should not see your friends."
To say that this lifted a load off the girl's mind, is to express thematter in the mildest terms imaginable. Her failure to hear either fromLady Brenton or her lover, as well as from Ailsa Lorne herself, hadfilled Lady Margaret's mind with strange forebodings. She almost feltthat she would be willing to lose every stone among the heirlooms if heraunt could be made so much pleasanter to live with.
And downstairs, Miss Cheyne said aloud with a queer little chuckle, whenthe girl had left the room:
"See your friends? So you shall, my dear. _After_ we come back!"