CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
THE CONTENTS OF THE COFFIN
There travelled down together to Market Milcaster late that afternoon,Spargo, Breton, the officials from the Home Office, entrusted with theorder for the opening of the Chamberlayne grave, and a solicitor actingon behalf of the proprietor of the _Watchman_. It was late in theevening when they reached the little town, but Spargo, having looked inat the parlour of the "Yellow Dragon" and ascertained that Mr.Quarterpage had only just gone home, took Breton across the street tothe old gentleman's house. Mr. Quarterpage himself came to the door,and recognized Spargo immediately. Nothing would satisfy him but thatthe two should go in; his family, he said, had just retired, but hehimself was going to take a final nightcap and a cigar, and they mustshare it.
"For a few minutes only then, Mr. Quarterpage," said Spargo as theyfollowed the old man into his dining-room. "We have to be up atdaybreak. And--possibly--you, too, would like to be up just as early."
Mr. Quarterpage looked an enquiry over the top of a decanter which hewas handling.
"At daybreak?" he exclaimed.
"The fact is," said Spargo, "that grave of Chamberlayne's is going tobe opened at daybreak. We have managed to get an order from the HomeSecretary for the exhumation of Chamberlayne's body: the officials incharge of it have come down in the same train with us; we're allstaying across there at the 'Dragon.' The officials have gone to makethe proper arrangements with your authorities. It will be at daybreak,or as near it as can conveniently be managed. And I suppose, now thatyou know of it, you'll be there?"
"God bless me!" exclaimed Mr. Quarterpage. "You've really done that!Well, well, so we shall know the truth at last, after all these years.You're a very wonderful young man, Mr. Spargo, upon my word. And thisother young gentleman?"
Spargo looked at Breton, who had already given him permission to speak."Mr. Quarterpage," he said, "this young gentleman is, without doubt,John Maitland's son. He's the young barrister, Mr. Ronald Breton, thatI told you of, but there's no doubt about his parentage. And I'm sureyou'll shake hands with him and wish him well."
Mr. Quarterpage set down decanter and glass and hastened to give Bretonhis hand.
"My dear young sir!" he exclaimed. "That I will indeed! And as towishing you well--ah, I never wished anything but well to your poorfather. He was led away, sir, led away by Chamberlayne. God bless me,what a night of surprises! Why, Mr. Spargo, supposing that coffin isfound empty--what then?"
"Then," answered Spargo, "then I think we shall be able to put ourhands on the man who is supposed to be in it."
"You think my father was worked upon by this man Chamberlayne, sir?"observed Breton a few minutes later when they had all sat down roundMr. Quarterpage's hospitable hearth. "You think he was undulyinfluenced by him?"
Mr. Quarterpage shook his head sadly.
"Chamberlayne, my dear young sir," he answered. "Chamberlayne was aplausible and a clever fellow. Nobody knew anything about him until hecame to this town, and yet before he had been here very long he hadcontrived to ingratiate himself with everybody--of course, to his ownadvantage. I firmly believe that he twisted your father round hislittle finger. As I told Mr. Spargo there when he was making hisenquiries of me a short while back, it would never have been anysurprise to me to hear--definitely, I mean, young gentlemen--that allthis money that was in question went into Chamberlayne's pockets. Dearme--dear me!--and you really believe that Chamberlayne is actuallyalive, Mr. Spargo?"
Spargo pulled out his watch. "We shall all know whether he was buriedin that grave before another six hours are over, Mr. Quarterpage," hesaid.
He might well have spoken of four hours instead of six, for it was thennearly midnight, and before three o'clock Spargo and Breton, with theother men who had accompanied them from London were out of the "YellowDragon" and on their way to the cemetery just outside the little town.Over the hills to the eastward the grey dawn was slowly breaking: thelong stretch of marshland which lies between Market Milcaster and thesea was white with fog: on the cypresses and acacias of the cemeteryhung veils and webs of gossamer: everything around them was quiet asthe dead folk who lay beneath their feet. And the people activelyconcerned went quietly to work, and those who could do nothing butwatch stood around in silence.
"In all my long life of over ninety years," whispered old Quarterpage,who had met them at the cemetery gates, looking fresh and brisk inspite of his shortened rest, "I have never seen this done before. Itseems a strange, strange thing to interfere with a dead man's lastresting-place--a dreadful thing."
"If there is a dead man there," said Spargo.
He himself was mainly curious about the details of this exhumation; hehad no scruples, sentimental or otherwise, about the breaking in uponthe dead. He watched all that was done. The men employed by the localauthorities, instructed over-night, had fenced in the grave withcanvas; the proceedings were accordingly conducted in strict privacy; aman was posted to keep away any very early passersby, who might beattracted by the unusual proceedings. At first there was nothing to dobut wait, and Spargo occupied himself by reflecting that every spadefulof earth thrown out of that grave was bringing him nearer to the truth;he had an unconquerable intuition that the truth of at any rate onephase of the Marbury case was going to be revealed to them. If thecoffin to which they were digging down contained a body, and that thebody of the stockbroker, Chamberlayne, then a good deal of his,Spargo's, latest theory, would be dissolved to nothingness. But if thatcoffin contained no body at all, then--"
"They're down to it!" whispered Breton.
Presently they all went and looked down into the grave. The workmen haduncovered the coffin preparatory to lifting it to the surface; one ofthem was brushing the earth away from the name-plate. And in the nowstrong light they could all read the lettering on it.
JAMES CARTWRIGHT CHAMBERLAYNE Born 1852 Died 1891
Spargo turned away as the men began to lift the coffin out of thegrave.
"We shall know now!" he whispered to Breton. "And yet--what is it weshall know if----"
"If what?" said Breton. "If--what?"
But Spargo shook his head. This was one of the great moments he hadlately been working for, and the issues were tremendous.
"Now for it!" said the _Watchman's_ solicitor in an undertone. "Come,Mr. Spargo, now we shall see."
They all gathered round the coffin, set on low trestles at thegraveside, as the workmen silently went to work on the screws. Thescrews were rusted in their sockets; they grated as the men slowlyworked them out. It seemed to Spargo that each man grew slower andslower in his movements; he felt that he himself was getting fidgety.Then he heard a voice of authority.
"Lift the lid off!"
A man at the head of the coffin, a man at the foot suddenly and swiftlyraised the lid: the men gathered round craned their necks with a quickmovement.
Sawdust!
The coffin was packed to the brim with sawdust, tightly pressed down.The surface lay smooth, undisturbed, levelled as some hand had levelledit long years before. They were not in the presence of death, but ofdeceit.
Somebody laughed faintly. The sound of the laughter broke the spell.The chief official present looked round him with a smile.
"It is evident that there were good grounds for suspicion," heremarked. "Here is no dead body, gentlemen. See if anything liesbeneath the sawdust," he added, turning to the workmen. "Turn it out!"
The workmen began to scoop out the sawdust with their hands; one ofthem, evidently desirous of making sure that no body was in the coffin,thrust down his fingers at various places along its length. He, too,laughed.
"The coffin's weighted with lead!" he remarked. "See!"
And tearing the sawdust aside, he showed those around him that at threeintervals bars of lead had been tightly wedged into the coffin wherethe head, the middle, and the feet of a corpse would have rested.
"Done it cleverly," he remarked, looking round. "You see how theseweights have been adjusted.
When a body's laid out in a coffin, youknow, all the weight's in the end where the head and trunk rest. Hereyou see the heaviest bar of lead is in the middle; the lightest at thefeet. Clever!"
"Clear out all the sawdust," said some one. "Let's see if there'sanything else."
There was something else. At the bottom of the coffin two bundles ofpapers, tied up with pink tape. The legal gentlemen present immediatelymanifested great interest in these. So did Spargo, who, pulling Bretonalong with him, forced his way to where the officials from the HomeOffice and the solicitor sent by the _Watchman_ were hastily examiningtheir discoveries.
The first bundle of papers opened evidently related to transactions atMarket Milcaster: Spargo caught glimpses of names that were familiar tohim, Mr. Quarterpage's amongst them. He was not at all astonished tosee these things. But he was something more than astonished when, onthe second parcel being opened, a quantity of papers relating toCloudhampton and the Hearth and Home Mutual Benefit Society wererevealed. He gave a hasty glance at these and drew Breton aside.
"It strikes me we've found a good deal more than we ever bargainedfor!" he exclaimed. "Didn't Aylmore say that the real culprit atCloudhampton was another man--his clerk or something of that sort?"
"He did," agreed Breton. "He insists on it."
"Then this fellow Chamberlayne must have been the man," said Spargo."He came to Market Milcaster from the north. What'll be done with thosepapers?" he asked, turning to the officials.
"We are going to seal them up at once, and take them to London,"replied the principal person in authority. "They will be quite safe,Mr. Spargo; have no fear. We don't know what they may reveal."
"You don't, indeed!" said Spargo. "But I may as well tell you that Ihave a strong belief that they'll reveal a good deal that nobody dreamsof, so take the greatest care of them."
Then, without waiting for further talk with any one, Spargo hurriedBreton out of the cemetery. At the gate, he seized him by the arm.
"Now, then, Breton!" he commanded. "Out with it!"
"With what?"
"You promised to tell me something--a great deal, you said--if we foundthat coffin empty. It is empty. Come on--quick!"
"All right. I believe I know where Elphick and Cardlestone can befound. That's all."
"All! It's enough. Where, then, in heaven's name?"
"Elphick has a queer little place where he and Cardlestone sometimes gofishing--right away up in one of the wildest parts of the Yorkshiremoors. I expect they've gone there. Nobody knows even their namesthere--they could go and lie quiet there for--ages."
"Do you know the way to it?"
"I do--I've been there."
Spargo motioned him to hurry.
"Come on, then," he said. "We're going there by the very first trainout of this. I know the train, too--we've just time to snatch amouthful of breakfast and to send a wire to the _Watchman_, and thenwe'll be off. Yorkshire!--Gad, Breton, that's over three hundred milesaway!"