CHAPTER XXIII
SARA WRANDALL'S DECISION
When Smith returned from the Far West, a few days after the eventsnarrated in the foregoing chapter, he repaired at once to Sara'sapartment, bringing with him not only the signed statement of theAshtley girl, but the well-worn and apparently cherished prayer-bookthat had been her solace during the last few months of her life.On the fly-leaf she had written: "I have nothing of God's earthlygifts to leave behind but this. It has brought me riches, but it isa poor thing in itself. I bequeath it, my only earthly possession,to the kind and merciful one who taught me that there is good inthis bad world of ours." It was inscribed to "Mrs. Challis Wrandall."
"She made me promise to give it to you with my own hands, Mrs.Wrandall," said Smith, in the library, putting as much emotion intohis voice and manner as he thought the occasion and the audiencedemanded. Miss Castleton and Mr. Booth were also present. "Shewas a queer girl. I never saw one just like her, believe me. Justafter she signed that paper, I had a chance to be alone with herfor a minute or two. She asked me to stoop over so's I could hearwhat she had to say, and she made me promise not to say a wordabout it until after she was gone. Well, it will surprise you justas much as it did me, what she had to say with her dying breath,so to speak." He paused for the effect.
"What did she say to you?" demanded Sara.
"Well, sir, do you know that that girl knew all along who it wasthat went up to Burton's Inn that evening with your husband? Whatdo you think of that?"
There was not a sound in the room. Even the coals in the fireplaceseemed to take that instant to hush their blithe crackling. Smith'slisteners might have been absolutely breathless, they were so rigid.Each had the grotesque fear that he was about to point his fingerat Hetty Glynn and call upon her to answer to an accusation fromthe grave.
The next moment they drew a deep, quivering breath of relief. Thedetective went on, almost apologetically. "I tried to bluff herinto telling me who she was, Mrs. Wrandall, but she wouldn't fallfor it. After a little while, I saw it was no use questioning her.She was as firm as a rock about it. And she was pretty near gone,I can tell you. As a matter of fact, her heart went back on hersuddenly not ten minutes later, sort of surprising all of us. Butshe did manage to whisper a few things to me while the others wereconversing in the hall. She said that she saw another girl with Mr.Wrandall about a week before the murder, a stranger and a verypretty one. He knew how to pick out the pretty--I--I beg yourpardon, ma'am. That sort of slipped out. You see--"
"Never mind. I understand. Go on."
"Right after that he told her he was through with her. Chuckedher, that's the sum and substance of it, for the new one, whoevershe was. She raised a row with him about it, and he laughed at her.For nearly a week she spied on him, and she saw him out in the carwith the stranger at least half a dozen times. Now comes the queerpart of it, and the thing that made her keep her lips closed atfirst, right after the killing--the murder, I mean. She laid forhim in front of his home on the very day of the murder and sworeshe'd do something desperate if he didn't give the other one up. Hetook her to a cheap restaurant on the West Side, and she was surethat several waiters saw that they were quarrelling. To get herout of the place, he induced her to get in his car and they wentfor a ride out as far as Van Courtlandt Park. The police never gotonto all this. But she lived in terror for a few days, believingthat the waiters might remember them, although neither of them hadever been in the place before. When she was taken up for examination,she still wondered if they would be called on to identify her.Nothing doing. It was right then, Mrs. Wrandall, that you steppedin and said that her alibi was sufficient, and staked her for lifeout there in the West. She says she saw the other girl after themurder, but she wouldn't say where it was or when. Of course, shecouldn't swear that this girl did the job up there at Burton's,but she was pretty nearly dead certain she was the one who wentup there with him. She was just on the point of telling the policeabout this girl, to save herself, when you helped her out of thefix, and then she got to thinking strange things, she said. Thisis what she said to me, there on her death-bed, and I want to tellyou it gave me an idea of character that I had never come acrossbefore in all my experience. She said that if Mrs. Wrandall herecould be fine enough to befriend her, knowing all you did, ma'am,about her and your husband, it oughtn't to be hard for her to helpanother erring girl by keeping her mouth shut. And that's just whatshe did. She kept still. That sort of reasoning was new to me. But,when you stop to think it over, maybe she was right. A word fromher might have sent a fellow creature to the chair. She had had herlesson in charity from you, Mrs. Wrandall, and, while you didn'tmean it to have that effect, you undoubtedly spoiled the best chancewe'll ever have to get the real woman in the case."
There was a moment of tense silence. Booth was the first to riskthe effort at speech.
"And she wouldn't say a word more? She gave you no--no clue?"
"Not the faintest idea, sir. She took that girl's name to the gravewith her."
"Her name! She knew her name?" cried Sara, leaning forward.
"She heard it a day or two after you had her set free, Mrs.Wrandall. Don't it beat all? Now, don't you see what might havehappened if we'd let the police put the screws on her out there?Why, the chances are, a hundred to one, she would have broken downin the end, and told who this other woman is. There is where wemade a fatal mistake. But it's too late now, confound it."
"Yes, it's too late now," said Sara, relaxing in her chair.
"I'm telling you this, although maybe I wasn't expected to. Shemade me promise not to tell the police. Well, I guess I can keepthat promise. You ain't the police."
"It is a most remarkable story, Mr. Smith," said Sara, "but I donot see that it leads us anywhere. We are quite as much in the darkas before."
The detective studied the pattern in the rug at his feet, a defeatedlook in his eyes.
"I suppose I MIGHT have forced her to tell me, Mrs. Wrandall, butI--I didn't have the heart to bully her. I suppose you'll alwayshave it in for me for letting the chance slip?"
"I think I have already told you, Mr. Smith, that I am not at allcurious."
With the departure of the detective, the three conspirators fellinto an agitated discussion of the revelations he had made; so gravehad their peril appeared to be at the opening of his narrative thatthey were still in a state of perturbation from which they werenot to recover for a long time. Their cheeks were white and theireyes were dark with the dread that remained even after the dangerwas past. Hetty's arms hung limp and nerveless at her sides as shelay back in the chair and stared numbly at her friends.
"Do you really believe she knew that I was the one?" she askedmiserably. "Do you think she knew my name?" she shuddered.
"What if she did?" demanded Booth with an assumption of indifferencehe was not yet able to feel. "She was a brick to keep it to herself.The danger's past, dearest. Don't let it worry you now."
"But just think of it! At any time she could have told this storyto the police and--Oh, wasn't it appalling? I thought my heartwould never beat again!"
"We never knew till now how close we were to the abyss," saidSara, drawing the thin wrap closer about her shoulders. Suddenlyshe laughed. "But why contemplate the disaster that didn't occur?We are more secure than ever. This girl was the only one who knew,because no one else could have had the same incentive to spy uponhim, Hetty. She is dead. Your name isn't likely to be shouted fromthe housetops, for the simple reason that it is safely locked upin a grave." She hesitated for a moment and then added: "In twograves, if it makes you feel more secure."
The others looked at her in open astonishment.
Booth was frowning. Sara glanced at his stern face and her eyes fell."If that sounded cold and unfeeling, I am sorry, Hetty. It was myunfortunate way of trying to convince you that there is nothingleft for you to fear."
She left them a moment later, bending over to kiss Hetty's cheekas she passed by her chair.
"
Now, you see what I mean, Brandon, when I insist that it wouldbe a mistake for you to marry me," said Hetty in a troubled voice."We could never be sure of immunity."
"You refer to that remark of hers?"
"She is a strange woman. I sometimes have the feeling that she wantsto keep me with her for ever. I feel that she will not let me go."
"That's pure nonsense, Hetty," he said. "She wants you to marryme, I am positive." He may have thought his tone convincing, butsomething caused her to regard him rather fixedly, as if she weretrying to solve an elusive puzzle.
He took her by the arms and raised her to her feet. Holding herquite close, he looked down into her questioning eyes and said veryseriously:
"You are suspicious, even of me, dearest. I want you. There is butone way for you to be at peace with yourself: shift your cares overto my shoulders. I will stand between you and everything that maycome up to trouble you. We love one another. Why should we sacrificeour love for the sake of a shadow? For a week, dearest, I've beenpleading with you; won't you end the suspense to-day--end it now--andsay you will be my wife?"
The appeal was so gentle, so sincere, so full of longing that shewavered. Her tender blue eyes, lately so full of dread, grew moistwith the ineffable sweetness of love, and capitulation was in them.Her warm, red lips parted in a dear little smile of surrender.
"You know I love you," she said tremulously.
He kissed the lovely, appealing lips, not once but many times.
"God, how I worship you," he whispered passionately. "I can't go onwithout you, darling. You are life to me. I love you! I love you!"
She drew back in his arms, the shadow chasing the light out of hereyes.
"We are both living in the present, we are both thinking only ofit, Brandon. What of the future? Can we foresee the future? Dearheart, I am always thinking of your future, not my own. Is it rightfor me to bring you--"
"And I am thinking only of your future," he said gravely. "The futurethat shall be mine to shape and to make glad with the fulfilmentof every promise that love has in store for both of us. Put awaythe doubts, drive out the shadows, dearest. Live in the light forever. Love is light."
"If I were only sure that my shadows would not descend upon you,I--"
He drew her close and kissed her again.
"I am not afraid of your shadows. God be my witness, Hetty, I gloryin them. They do not reflect weakness, but strength and nobility.They make you all the more worth having. I thank God that you arewhat you are, dear heart."
"Give me a few days longer, Brandon," she pleaded. "Let me conquerthis strange thing that lies here in my brain. My heart is yours,my soul is yours. But the brain is a rebel. I must triumph overit, or it will always lie in wait for a chance to overthrow thislittle kingdom of ours. To-day I have been terrified. I am disturbed.Give me a few days longer."
"I would not grant you the respite, were I not so sure of theoutcome," he said gently, but there was a thrill of triumph in thetones. Her eyes grew very dark and soft and her lips trembled withthe tide of love that surged through her body. "Oh, how adorable youare!" he cried, straining her close in a sudden ecstasy of passion.
The door-bell rang. They drew apart, breathing rapidly, theirblood leaping with the contact of opposing passions, their fleshquivering. With a shy, sweet glance at him, she turned toward thedoor to await the appearance of Watson. He could still feel her inhis arms.
A drawling voice came to them from the vestibule, and a momentlater Leslie Wrandall entered the library, pulling off his glovesas he came.
"Hello," he said glibly. "I told that fellow downstairs it wasn'tnecessary to announce me by telephone. Silly arrangement, I say.Why the devil should they think everybody's a thief or a book agentor a constable with a subpoena? He knows I'm one of the family.I'm likely to run in any time, I told him, and--Oh, I say, I'm notbutting in, am I, Miss Castleton?"
He shook hands with both of them, and then offered his cigarettecase to Booth, first selecting one for himself. Hetty assured himthat he was not de trop, sheer profligacy on her part in view ofhis readiness to concede the point without a word from her.
"Nipping wind," he said, taking his stand before the fireplace."Where is Sara? Never mind, don't bother her. I've got all the timein the world. By the way, Miss Castleton, what is the latest newsfrom your father?"
"I dare say you have later news than I," she said, a trace ofannoyance in her manner.
"I thought perhaps he had written you about his plans."
"My father does not know that I have returned to New York."
"Oh, I see. Of course. Um--um! By the way, I think the Colonelis a corker. One of the most amiable thoroughbreds I've ever comeacross. Ripping. He's never said anything to me about your antipathytoward him, but I can see with half an eye that he is terriblydepressed about it. Can't you get together some way on--"
"Really, Mr. Wrandall, you are encouraging your imagination to apoint where words ultimately must fail you," she said very positively.Booth could hardly repress a chuckle.
"It's not imagination on my part," said Leslie with conviction,failing utterly to recognise the obvious. "I suppose you knowthat he is coming over to visit me for six weeks or so. We becamerattling good friends before we parted. By Jove, you should hear himon old Lord Murgatroyd's will! The quintessence of wit! I couldn'ttake it as he does. Expectations and all that sort of thing, youknow, going up like a hot air balloon and bursting in plain view.But he never squeaked. Laughed it off. A British attribute, I daresay. I suppose you know that he is obliged to sell his estate inIreland."
Hetty started. She could not conceal the look of shame that leapedinto her eyes.
"I--I did not know," she murmured.
"Must be quite a shock to you. Sit down, Brandy. You look verypicturesque standing, but chairs were made to sit upon--or in,whichever is proper."
Booth shrugged his shoulders.
"I think I'll stand, if you don't mind, Les."
"I merely suggested it, old chap, fearing you might have overlookedthe possibilities. Yes, Miss Castleton, he left us in London to goup to Belfast on this dismal business." There was something in theback of his mind that he was trying to get at in a tactful manner."By the way, is this property entailed?"
"I know nothing at all about it, Mr. Wrandall," said she, with apleading glance at her lover, as if to inquire what stand she shouldtake in this distressing situation.
"If it is entailed he can't sell it," said Booth quietly.
"That's true," said Leslie, somewhat dubiously. Then, with amagnanimity that covered a multitude of doubts he added: "Of course,I am only interested in seeing that you are properly protected,Miss Castleton. I've no doubt you hold an interest in the estates."
"I can't very well discuss a thing I know absolutely nothing about,"she said succinctly.
"Most of it is in building lots and factories in Belfast, of course."It was more in the nature of a question than a declaration. "Theold family castle isn't very much of an asset, I take it."
"I fancy you can trust Colonel Castleton to make the best possibledeal in the premises," said Booth drily.
"I suppose so," said the other resignedly. "He is a shrewd beggar,I'm convinced of that. Strange, however, that I haven't hearda word from him since he left us in London, I've been expectinga cablegram from him every day for nearly a fortnight, letting meknow when to expect him."
Hetty had gone over to the window and was looking out over thedarkening park.
"Perhaps he means to surprise you, old man," said Booth, with asmile that Leslie did not in the least interpret.
With a furtive glance at the girl, whose back was toward them,he got up from his chair and came quite close to Booth, frowningslightly as he plucked at his moustache with nervous fingers.Lowering his voice to a cautious half-whisper, he inquired:
"I say, Brandy, what do you know about him? Is he on the level, oris he a damned old rascal?"
"Did you lend him any money?" asked Booth, with a malic
ious grin.
Leslie gulped. A fine perspiration broke out on his forehead. "Yes,I did," he replied, and, on reflection, slyly kicked himself on theankle, making sure however that Hetty was still looking the otherway. "Go on! Break it rudely. He's no good, eh? A shark, eh?"
"Believe me, I don't know anything about him, Les," said Booth,with a sudden feeling of loyalty to the Colonel's daughter. "Hemay pay up."
Leslie snapped his fingers while they were on the way to his upperlip, and almost missed his moustache by the digression. At anyrate, he seemed to be fumbling for it.
"I did it on her account," he explained, nodding his head in Hetty'sdirection. He thought hard for a moment. "Of course, he won't besuch a blithering fool as to come over here, will he?"
"I shouldn't, if I had been able to get what I wanted at home, ashe very obviously did," said Booth pitilessly. "How much was it?"
Leslie waved his hand disdainfully. "Oh, a few hundred pounds,that's all. No harm done."
"Are you going to California this winter for the flying?" askedHetty, coming toward them.
Sara entered at that juncture, and they all sat down to listen forhalf an hour to Leslie's harangue on the way the California meetwas being mismanaged, at the end of which he departed.
He took Booth away with him, much to that young man's disgust.
"Do you know, Brandy, old fellow," said he as they walked down FifthAvenue in the gathering dusk of the early winter evening, "eversince I've begun to suspect that damned old humbug of a father ofhers, I've been congratulating myself that there isn't the remotestchance of his ever becoming my father-in-law. And, by George, you'llnever know how near I was to leaping blindly into the brambles.What a close call I had!"
Booth's sarcastic smile was hidden by the dusk. He made no pretenceof openly resenting the meanness of spirit that moved Leslie tothese caddish remarks. He merely announced in a dry, cutting voice:
"I think Miss Castleton is to be congratulated that her injury isno greater than Nature made it in the beginning."
"What do you mean by 'nature'?"
"Nature gave her a father, didn't it?"
"Obviously."
"Well, why add insult to injury?"
"By Jove! Oh, I SAY, old man!"
They parted at the next corner. As Booth started to cross over tothe Plaza, Leslie called out after him:
"I say, Brandy, just a second, please. Are you going to marry MissCastleton?"
"I am."
"Then, I retract the scurvy things I said back there. I asked herto marry me three times and she refused me three times. What Isaid about the brambles was rotten. I'd ask her again if I thoughtshe'd have me. There you are, old fellow. I'm a rotten cad, but Iapologise to you just the same."
"You're learning, Leslie," said Booth, taking the hand the otherheld out to him.
While the painter was dining at his club later on in the evening,he was called to the telephone. Watson was on the wire. He saidthat Mrs. Wrandall would like to know if Mr. Booth could drop inon her for a few minutes after dinner, "to discuss a very importantmatter, if you please, sir." At nine o'clock, Booth was in Sara'slibrary, trying to grasp a new and remarkable phase in the characterof that amazing woman.
He found Hetty waiting for him when he arrived.
"I don't know what it all means, Brandon," she said hurriedly, lookingover her shoulder as she spoke. "Sara says that she has come to adecision of some sort. She wants us to hear her plan before makingit final. I--I don't understand her at all to-night."
"It can't be anything serious, dearest," he said, but somethingcold and nameless oppressed him just the same.
"She asked me if I had finally decided to--to be your wife, Brandon.I said I had asked you for two or three days more in which todecide. It seemed to depress her. She said she didn't see how shecould give me up, even to you. She wants to be near me always. Itis--it is really tragic, Brandon."
He took he hands in his.
"We can fix that," said he confidently. "Sara can live with us ifshe feels that way about it. Our home shall be hers when she likes,and as long as she chooses. It will be open to her all the time,to come and go or to stay, just as she elects. Isn't that the wayto put it?"
"I suggested something of the sort, but she wasn't very muchimpressed. Indeed, she appeared to be somewhat--yes, I could nothave been mistaken,--somewhat harsh and terrified when I spoke ofit. Afterwards she was more reasonable. She thanked me and--therewere tears in her eyes at the time--and said she would think itover. All she asks is that I may be happy and free and untroubledall the rest of my life. This was before dinner. At dinner sheappeared to be brooding over something. When we left the tableshe took me to her room and said that she had come to an importantdecision. Then she instructed Watson to find you if possible."
"'Gad, it's all very upsetting," he said, shaking his head.
"I think her conscience is troubling her. She hates the Wrandalls,but I--I don't know why I should feel as I do about it,--but Ibelieve she wants them to know!"
He stared for a moment, and then his face brightened. "And so doI, Hetty, so do I! They ought to know!"
"I should feel so much easier if the whole world knew," said sheearnestly.
Sara heard the girl's words as she stood in the door. She cameforward with a strange,--even abashed,--smile, after closing thedoor behind her.
"I don't agree with you, dearest, when you say that the worldshould know, but I have come to the conclusion that you should betried and acquitted by a jury made up of Challis Wrandall's ownflesh and blood. The Wrandalls must know the truth."