CHAPTER XVIII.
WORDS OF THE DEAD.
Justice is always vigilant--it stops not to weigh causes or motives,but overtakes the criminal, no matter whether his deeds be thesuggestion of malice or the consequence of provoked revenge. I was alleagerness to face the pair in the full light and demand anexplanation, yet I hesitated, fearing lest precipitation might preventme gaining knowledge of the truth.
That they had no inclination to walk further was evident, for theystill stood there in conversation, facing each other and speakingearnestly. I listened attentively to every word, my heart thumping soloudly that I wondered they did not hear its excited pulsations.
"You've seen nothing of Sir Bernard?" she was saying.
"Sir Bernard!" he echoed. "Why, of course not. To him I am dead andburied, just as I am to the rest of the world. My executors haveproved my will at Somerset House, and very soon you will receive itsbenefits. To meet the old doctor would be to reveal the whole thing."
"It is all so strange," she said with a low sigh, "that sometimes,when I am alone, I can't believe it to be true. We have deceived theworld so completely."
"Of course. That was my intention."
"But could it not have been done without the sacrifice of that man'slife?" she queried. "Remember! The crime of murder was committed."
"You are only dreaming!" he replied, in a hard voice. "A mystery wasnecessary for our success."
"And it is a mystery which has entirely baffled the police in everyparticular."
"As I intended it should. I laid my plans with care, so that thereshould be no hitch or point by which Scotland Yard could obtain aclue."
"But our future life?" she murmured. "When may I return again to you?At present I am compelled to feign mourning, and present a perfectpicture of interesting widowhood; but--but I hate this playing atdeath."
"Have patience, dear," he urged in a sympathetic tone. "For the momentwe must remain entirely apart, holding no communication with eachother save in secret, on the first and fifteenth day of every month aswe arranged. As soon as I find myself in a position of safety we willdisappear together, and you will leave the world wondering at thesecond mystery following upon the first."
"In how long a time do you anticipate?" she asked, looking earnestlyinto his eyes.
"A few months at most," was his answer. "If it were possible youshould return to me at once; but you know how strange and romantic ismy life, compelled to disguise my personality, and for ever movingfrom place to place, like the Wandering Jew. To return to me atpresent is quite impossible. Besides--you are in the hands of theexecutors; and before long must be in evidence in order to receive mymoney."
"Money is useless to me without happiness," she declared, in a voiceof complaint. "My position at present is one of constant dread."
"Whom and what do you fear?"
"I believe that Dr. Boyd has some vague suspicion of the truth," sheresponded, after a pause.
"What?" he cried, in quick surprise. "Tell me why. Explain it all tome."
"There is nothing to explain--save that to-night he seemed to regardmy movements with suspicion."
"Ah! my dear, your fears are utterly groundless," he laughed. "Whatcan the fellow possibly know? He is assured that I am dead, for hesigned my certificate and followed me to my grave at Woking. A man whoattends his friend's funeral has no suspicion that the dead is stillliving, depend upon it. If there is any object in this world that isconvincing it is a corpse."
"I merely tell you the result of my observations," she said. "In myopinion he has come here to learn what he can."
"He can learn nothing," answered the "dead" man. "If it were hisconfounded friend Jevons, now, we might have some apprehension; forthe ingenuity of that man is, I've heard, absolutely astounding. EvenScotland Yard seeks his aid in the solving of the more difficultcriminal problems."
"I tell you plainly that I fear Ethelwynn may expose us," his wifewent on slowly, a distinctly anxious look upon her countenance. "Asyou know, there is a coolness between us, and rather than risk losingthe doctor altogether she may make a clean breast of the affair."
"No, no, my dear. Rest assured that she will never betray us,"answered Courtenay, with a light reassuring laugh. "True, you are notvery friendly, yet you must recollect that she and I are friends. Herinterests are identical with our own; therefore to expose us would beto expose herself at the same time."
"A woman sometimes acts without forethought."
"Quite true; but Ethelwynn is not one of those. She's careful topreserve her own position in the eyes of her lover, knowing quite wellthat to tell the truth would be to expose her own baseness. A man mayoverlook many offences in the woman he loves, but this particular oneof which she is guilty a man never forgives."
His words went deep into my heart. Was not this further proof that thecrime--for undoubtedly a crime had been accomplished in that house atKew--had been committed by the hand of the woman I so fondly loved?All was so amazing, so utterly bewildering, that I stood thereconcealed by the tree, motionless as though turned to stone.
There was a motive wanting in it all. Yet I ask you who read thisnarrative of mine if, like myself, you would not have been staggeredinto dumbness at seeing and hearing a man whom you had certified to bedead, moving and speaking, and, moreover, in his usual health?
"He loves her!" his wife exclaimed, speaking of me. "He would forgiveher anything. My own opinion is that if we would be absolutely secureit is for us to heal the breach between them."
He remained thoughtful for a few moments, apparently in doubt as tothe wisdom of acting upon her suggestion. Surely in the situation wasan element of humor, for, happily, I was being forearmed.
"It might possibly be good policy," he remarked at last. "If we couldonly bring them together again he would cease his constant striving tosolve the enigma. We know well that he can never do that; neverthelesshis constant efforts are as annoying as they are dangerous."
"That's just my opinion. There is danger to us in his constantinquiries, which are much more ingenious and careful than we imagine."
"Well, my child," he said, "you've stuck to me in this in a mannerthat few women would have dared. If you really think it necessary tobring Boyd and Ethelwynn together again you must do it entirely alone,for I could not possibly appear on the scene. He must never meet me,or the whole thing would be revealed."
"For your sake I am prepared to make the attempt," she said. "The factof being Ethelwynn's sister gives me freedom to speak my mind to him."
"And to tell him some pretty little fiction about her?" he added,laughing.
"Yes. It will certainly be necessary to put an entirely innocent faceon recent events in order to smooth matters over," she admitted,joining in his laughter.
"Rather a difficult task to make the affair at Kew appear innocent,"he observed. "But you're really a wonderful woman, Mary. The wayyou've acted your part in this affair is simply marvellous. You'vedeceived everyone--even that old potterer, Sir Bernard himself."
"I've done it for your sake," was her response. "I made a promise, andI've kept it. Up to the present we are safe, but we cannot take toomany precautions. We have enemies and scandal-seekers on every side."
"I admit that," he replied, rather impatiently, I thought. "If youthink it a wise course you had better lose no time in placingEthelwynn's innocence before her lover. You will see him in themorning, I suppose?"
"Probably not. He leaves by the eight o'clock train," she said. "Whenmy plans are matured I will call upon him in London."
"And if any woman can deceive him, you can, Mary," he laughed. "Inthose widow's weeds of yours you could deceive the very devilhimself!"
Mrs. Courtenay's airy talk of deception threw an entirely fresh lightupon her character. Hitherto I had held her in considerable esteem asa woman who, being bored to death by the eccentricities of her invalidhusband, had sought distraction with her friends in town, butnevertheless honest and devoted to the man she had wedded.
But thesewords of hers caused doubt to arise within my mind. That she had beendevoted to her husband's interest was proved by the clever impostureshe was practising; indeed it seemed to me very much as if thosefrequent visits to town had been at the "dead" man's suggestion andwith his entire consent. But the more I reflected upon theextraordinary details of the tragedy and its astounding denouement,the more hopeless and maddening became the problem.
"I shall probably go to town to-morrow," she exclaimed, after smilingat his declaration. "Where are you in hiding just now?"
"In Birmingham. A large town is safer than a village. I return by thesix o'clock train, and go again into close concealment."
"But you know people in Birmingham, don't you? We stayed there oncewith some people called Tremlett, I recollect."
"Ah, yes," he laughed. "But I am careful to avoid them. The districtin which I live is far removed from them. Besides, I never by anychance go out by day. I'm essentially a nocturnal roamer."
"And when shall we meet again?"
"By appointment, in the usual way."
"At the usual place?" she asked.
"There can be no better, I think. It does not take you from home, andI am quite unknown down here."
"If any of the villagers ever discovered us they might talk, anddeclare that I met a secret lover," she laughed.
"If you are ever recognised, which I don't anticipate is probable, wecan at once change our place of meeting. At present there is nonecessity for changing it."
"Then, in the meantime, I will exercise my woman's diplomacy to effectpeace between Ethelwynn and the doctor," she said. "It is the only wayby which we can obtain security."
"For the life of me I can't discern the reason of his coolness towardsher," remarked my "dead" patient.
"He suspects her."
"Of what?"
"Suspects the truth. She has told me so."
Old Henry Courtenay grunted in dissatisfaction.
"Hasn't she tried to convince him to the contrary?" he asked. "I wasalways under the impression that she could twist him round herfinger--so hopelessly was he in love with her."
"So she could before this unfortunate affair."
"And now that he suspects the truth he's disinclined to have any moreto do with her--eh? Well," he added, "after all, it's only natural.She's not so devilish clever as you, Mary, otherwise she would neverhave allowed herself to fall beneath suspicion. She must have somehowblundered."
"To-morrow I shall go to town," she said in a reflective voice. "Notime should be lost in effecting the reconciliation between them."
"You are right," he declared. "You should commence at once. Call andtalk with him. He believes so entirely in you. But promise me onething; that you will not go to Ethelwynn," he urged.
"Why not?"
"Because it is quite unnecessary," he answered. "You are not goodfriends; therefore your influence upon the doctor should be a hiddenone. She will believe that he has returned to her of his own freewill; hence our position will be rendered the stronger. Actdiplomatically. If she believes that you are interesting yourself inher affairs it may anger her."
"Then you suggest that I should call upon the doctor in secret, andtry and influence him in her favour without her being aware of it?"
"Exactly. After the reconciliation is effected you may tell her. Atpresent, however, it is not wise to show our hand. By your visit tothe doctor you may be able to obtain from him how much he knows, andwhat are his suspicions. One thing is certain, that with all hisshrewdness he doesn't dream the truth."
"Who would?" she asked with a smile. "If the story were told, nobodywould believe it."
"That's just it! The incredibility of the whole affair is what placesus in such a position of security; for as long as I lie low and youcontinue to act the part of the interesting widow, nobody can possiblyget at the truth."
"I think I've acted my part well, up to the present," she said, "and Ihope to continue to do so. To influence the doctor will be a difficulttask, I fear. But I'll do my utmost, because I see that by thereconciliation Ethelwynn's lips would be sealed."
"Act with discretion, my dear," urged the old man. "But remember thatBoyd is not a man to be trifled with--and as for that accursed friendof his, Ambler Jevons, he seems second cousin to the very King ofDarkness himself."
"Never fear," she laughed confidently. "Leave it to me--leave all tome."
And then, agreeing that it was time they went back, they turned,retraced their steps, and passing through the small gate into themeadow, were soon afterwards lost to sight.
Truly my night's adventure had been as strange and startling as anythat has happened to living man, for what I had seen and heard openedup a hundred theories, each more remarkable and tragic than the other,until I stood utterly dumfounded and aghast.