Samuel Boyd of Catchpole Square: A Mystery

  CHAPTER XLIII.

  AUNT ROB PLAYS THE PART OF FAIRY GODMOTHER.

  "There's villainy at the bottom of it," cried Aunt Rob. "Dick, you'reour guardian angel, and that poor little girl, that I'd like to hug,is another. I knew that wretch on the jury was against us from thefirst. There was a sly, wicked look in his eyes every time he turnedtowards us, and when he began to speak I felt as if some one wascutting a cork; he set all my teeth on edge. Ought such a monster tobe allowed to sit on a jury?"

  "Who's to prevent it?" said Uncle Rob, thoughtfully. "He's there, andhas to be reckoned with, though I doubt whether we can do any good.Likes and dislikes, when there's nothing tangible to back them up,count for nothing; and feelings count for nothing. When people shiverand grate their teeth at the squeaking of a cork other people whodon't mind it only laugh at them."

  "There's nothing to laugh at here, father," said Aunt Rob,impatiently.

  "I know that as well as you do, mother; I don't think any of us are ina laughing humour. I'm trying to reason the matter out, and to do thatfairly you must take care not to let prejudice cloud your judgment.When little Gracie Death overhears Dr. Vinsen say, 'You act up to yourinstructions, and I'll keep my promise,' what proof have we that ithas anything to do with the juryman's duties on the inquest?"

  "No proof at all," said Dick, "but doesn't it look like it?"

  "Such an inference may be drawn, but an inference won't help us. It'sno good mincing matters. Dr. Vinsen is on the right side of the hedge,and we are on the wrong, and that makes all the difference; he has theadvantage of us. Reginald has put it clearly, and we must be prepared.Every hour a fresh complication crops up, and there's no telling whatthe next will bring forth. You see a man with an open newspaper in hishand; peep over his shoulder to find out what he's reading. It's theCatchpole Square Mystery, and he's running his eyes eagerly down thecolumns to see if anybody's caught, if anybody's charged. It scares meto think of it."

  "What do you mean, father?" asked Aunt Rob.

  "Have you ever seen a bull-baiting without the bull?" said Uncle Rob,gravely. "The public's waiting for the bull, and they won't restsatisfied till he's in the ring. That's where the danger is. Theydon't care a straw whether it's the right bull or the wrong bull; theywant something to bait."

  Reginald compressed his lips; he understood the drift of Uncle Rob'sremarks.

  "Do you mean to say that they don't want to see fair play?" said AuntRob.

  "I don't mean that. What I'm driving at is that Dick's prejudiceagainst Dr. Vinsen, whatever it may be worth, won't help us."

  "It will," said Dick, in a positive tone, "and I'm going to follow itup. Just answer me this. Do you consider that the inquest is beingproperly carried on? Do you consider it fair that private familyaffairs should be dragged before the public in the way they havebeen?"

  "I don't consider it fair."

  "Well, then, who is chiefly responsible for it? Who but the jurymanthat little Gracie catches conspiring with Dr. Vinsen?"

  "Conspiring!"

  "That's the word, conspiring, and I don't care who hears me. The juryon the inquest are sworn, like any other jury, and if it can be provedthat, before the inquiry is opened, before any evidence is taken,there is on the part of one of them an arrangement with an outsideparty to return a certain verdict, that I should imagine is aconspiracy, and the law can be made to touch them." Uncle Rob shookhis head doubtfully. "Well, anyway, there's a free press, and themaking of such a conspiracy public would influence public opinion, andthere would be no baiting of the wrong bull, even though he was in thering. 'Hold hard a bit,' the public would cry, 'let us see fairplay!'"

  "Not badly put, Dick," said Uncle Rob, and Florence pressed the youngman's hand.

  "As things stand," he went on with enthusiasm, "it looks very muchlike a match between me and Dr. Vinsen--or, at all events, that's theway I view it, and if he were standing before me this present momentI'd fling my glove in his face, and be glad if it hurt him. How doesthat juryman fellow become so familiar with our private affairs? It'sthrough him you're compelled to tell all about Florence's marriage.It's through him that it's been drummed into the public ear thatReginald is the only man who benefits by his father's death.Bull-baiting is nothing to the way some of us have been treated incourt; and the prime mover of it all is Dr. Vinsen, who stands behindand pulls the strings."

  "But what has Dr. Vinsen to gain by it?" asked Uncle Rob, bewildered,and yet half convinced by Dick's intense earnestness.

  "That's to be found out, and I'm going to, as little Gracie says. Ifhe has given me something to ponder over I've given him somethingthat'll set his wits at work, unless I'm very much mistaken; and Ihaven't half done with him, nor a quarter. Don't ask me what myplans are; it would be the spoiling of them if I let you into thesecret--and I mustn't forget that an inspector of police is in theroom, who would do his duty though it should break the hearts of thosewho are dearest to him." These words were spoken with exceedingtenderness, and caused more than one heart in the room to throb. "Ifcunning is to be met with cunning, watching with watching, spying withspying, trickery with trickery, Dr. Vinsen will find that I am readyfor him. Look here. What makes him start up all at once and go to Mrs.Death, and on the very first night he sees her give her a couple ofsovereigns? Benevolence? Charity? That for his benevolence andcharity!" Dick snapped his fingers contemptuously. "What makes himtell Mrs. Death a parcel of lies to poison her ears against me? Whatmakes him tell me at your father's funeral, Reginald, that his heartis large, that it bleeds for all, and that it would be better for someof us if we were in our graves? What do I care for his bleeding heart,the infernal hypocrite? I'd make it bleed if I had my will of him,with his fringe of hair round his shining bald head! As for Dr. Pye,that mysterious gentleman keeps himself in the background till hesends a letter to the Coroner, saying he has evidence of greatimportance to give. We heard what that evidence was, and we've a lotto thank him for, haven't we? Did you notice him as he looked roundthe court till he stopped at Reginald? Accident? No! Premeditation!"They started. "I repeat--premeditation. I don't know for what reason,but I _will_ know. I don't know what tie there is between Dr. Pye andDr. Vinsen, but I _will_ know. There's black treachery somewhere, andI'll ferret it out. Uncle, Aunt, Florence, Reginald, don't think I'mmad. I give you my word I am in my sober senses when I say that behindthe mystery of this dreadful murder that has brought so much sorrowinto this happy home there is another mystery which I'm going to solveif I die for it! I'll leave no stone unturned--for your dear sakes!"

  His earnestness, his sincerity, the fervour of his voice, the lovingglances he cast upon them, sank into their hearts--but it was uponFlorence's face that his gaze lingered, and he trembled when,murmuring, "Dear Dick, you fill us with hope!" she gave him a sisterlykiss.

  "Dick," said Aunt Rob, tearfully, "there was a time when I thought youhad no stability, and when I said as much to Uncle Rob. I take itback, my lad, I take it back!"

  "Don't be too hasty, aunt," he said, with a light attempt at gaiety."Wait and see if anything comes of it. Reginald, I've something moreto say. There's no mistake, is there, about your having got to yourlodgings last Friday night week before twelve o'clock?"

  "I am certain it must have been before that hour," replied Reginald."As I told them at the inquest yesterday, I cannot entirely dependupon my memory. It frequently happens that when there's an importantsubject in one's mind--as there was that night in mine--a smallincident which has no relation to it impresses itself upon the memory.That was the case with me. I can distinctly recall taking out my watchwhen I was in my bedroom, winding it up, looking at the time, andputting it back into my waistcoat pocket."

  "Did any person see you enter the house? Think hard, Reginald."

  "No person, in my remembrance."

  "When you put the latchkey in the door the policeman might have beenpassing?"

  "He might have been. I did not see him."

/>   "No one saw you go upstairs?"

  "Not that I know of. The house is always very quiet at that hour."

  "I paid your landlady a visit last night," said Dick, "and she doesnot know what time you came home; neither does the servant, whodoesn't seem blessed with a memory at all. It is most unfortunate thatwe cannot get a witness who could testify to the hour of your returnto your lodgings. It would effectually dispose of Dr. Pye's evidence,so far as you are concerned, for he says he threw his flashlight atthree in the morning. By Jove!" Dick exclaimed, looking at the clockon the mantelpiece, "it's ten o'clock, and the Coroner's Court opensat eleven. I sha'n't be there till late, unless there's a warrant outagainst me"--Dick laughed lightly, as though a warrant were the leastthing they had to fear. "There's the printing to see to; I don'tintend to leave the printing office till the reward bills are out. Nowlet's settle how they're to be drawn up; we've got just half-an-hour.Aunt Rob, I wish you'd do a kind action for once in your life."

  "What is it, Dick?"

  "Little Gracie is just round the corner, waiting for me; you won't seethe tip of her nose unless you turn the street, for I told her to keepout of sight. She's my shadow, you know, and I haven't the heart toorder her not to follow me about. What the child sees in me to hauntme as she does is more than I can understand."

  "What we all see in you," said Aunt Rob, tenderly.

  "Oh, of course. Well, it's my opinion little Gracie came away fromhome this morning without any breakfast----"

  Aunt Rob broke in upon him. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself forletting a hungry child stand alone in the cold streets all this time."Out she ran to pounce upon Gracie.

  "Do you mean to tell me," said Dick, gazing after her, "that the Lordwill allow any harm to come to a woman like that, or trouble thatcan't be cleared away to come to anyone she loves? No, no; the worldwouldn't be worth living in if that were so. Where she is, sunshineis, and love, and charity, and hope--and justice. God bless Aunt Rob!"

  And "God bless Aunt Rob!" they all said, with something shining intheir eyes.

  Back she came, holding Gracie by the arm. They all looked kindly atthe child.

  "Any trouble to get her here, aunt?" asked Dick, cheerily.

  "Not a bit."

  "It's all right, you know, Gracie," he said.

  "Yes, Dick, I know," she answered, solemnly.

  There was something so patient and uncomplaining, so piteous andbrave, in the child that hearts less susceptible than theirs could nothave failed to be touched. Florence stooped and kissed her, and therewas a little trembling of her bloodless lips; it was the only sign ofemotion she displayed, and it was gone in a moment. The dry, hoarsecough had not left her, and she was not successful in keeping it back.Every time it sounded through the room Aunt Rob shivered.

  "You men had best go into the next room and settle your business," shesaid; "you haven't too much time to spare, and we don't want youmeddling with women's affairs." Away they went, meekly. "Gracie, yousit here, and don't be shy with us, my dear, we're only homely people,the same as yourself. Florence, put another spoonful of tea in thepot, and there's the kettle boiling, just in the nick of time. Now, mydear, you make a good breakfast--I want you to drink your tea as hotas you can, it will ease your cough--it's Dick's cup you're drinkingout of, you won't mind that, _I_ know--he's told us such a lot aboutyou, and everything that's good--cut some more bread and butter,Florence--are you fond of jam, Gracie?--but what a question!--when Iwas a little girl I could eat a pot, only they wouldn't give me somuch at a time--this is Dick's favourite jam, raspberry----" And allthe time the good woman chattered she was putting food before Gracie,and coaxing her to eat, shaking her head at the child's attempts notto cough violently, and shaking her head more when she put her hand onthe bosom of the poor little frock, and discovered how thinly she wasclad. And all the time Gracie sat quiet at the table and ate, notgreedily but gratefully, her eyes fixed now on Aunt Rob, and now onFlorence, with the sweet thought in her mind, "Dick's told 'em a lotabout me, and everything that's good!"

  Breakfast over, they took Gracie upstairs, Aunt Rob saying, "Dick 'llbe here when we come down, my dear"; and in the bedroom above theytook off her frock and slipped a warm undervest over the bony chest,and another over that, and found a pair of thick stockings that hadonce been worn by a child, and a child's flannel petticoat, and otherthings to match--and there stood Gracie, clothed more comfortably andwarmly than ever she had been from her birth. And where did Aunt Robfind these garments so suitable and fitting for Gracie? They had beenlaid aside in a drawer, with many others, and had once clothed her owndarling when she was no bigger than the poor little waif to whom theyhad been so ungrudgingly presented. To listen to the mother's wistfulprattle, to witness the tender handling of this and that garment, tosee the fond way she put them to her cheeks and kissed them, to notethe loving looks she cast upon them as memory brought back the day andhour when Florence first wore them--true motherhood was never morebeautifully expressed. And Gracie submitted without uttering aword--no sign of emotion on her sallow face, no sighs of delight, notears. But when all was done and Aunt Rob sat down to rest, Gracieknelt before her and laid her head in her lap. Florence sat down too,and her hand rested lightly on the child's shoulder. Somehow or otherthese sweet offices of sweetest humanity seemed to soften the troublethat hung over their heads. Aunt Rob and Florence thought, "God willprotect dear Reginald. He will hold His shield before us. Upon Hismercy we will rely. He will see justice done, and we shall all behappy once more." While in Gracie's mind was the thought, "I shallfind father, I shall find father, and mother won't be angry with memuch longer." For quite two or three minutes there was silence in theroom, and when Gracie raised her tearless eyes to Aunt Rob's face thegood woman stroked the thin cheek and said,

  "There, that's done, and now we'll go down to Dick. He'll be wonderingwhat has become of us."

  It was then that Gracie spoke.

  "Don't you think mother ain't good to us," she said. "There never wasa better mother than she's been--and there's such a lot of us," sheadded, wistfully. "I'd rather starve than have you think mother ain'tgood to us!"

  "Bless your loving heart, my dear," Aunt Rob returned, kissing her."I'm sure she must be the best mother in all the world to have aloving daughter like you."

  "Oh, me!" said Gracie. "_I_ ain't much good. But, mother!--she worriesover my cough so that sometimes I wish I was dead, so that shecouldn't hear it, and she sets up all night mending our clothes. I'vecaught her at it over and over agin. She'd starve herself for us shewould. You'd believe me if you knew her."

  "I believe you now, my dear. We are all very, very sorry for her!"

  "You've been ever so good to me, and so's mother, but she can't dowhat she can't, can she?"

  "No one can, Gracie."

  "She'll be glad when she sees me with these things on. There's nobodylike her, nobody. I wish I could pick up a pursefull of money to giveher; but it'll be all right, you know, when we find father."

  "The sooner he's found the better it will be for a good many people,"said Aunt Rob, with a pitying glance at the loyal child, and yet witha kind of anger in her heart. Tenderly disposed as she was towardsGracie, deep as was her compassion for her miserable state and heradmiration for the noble qualities she displayed, Aunt Rob believedAbel Death to be the cause of all this trouble, believed that he hadmurdered Samuel Boyd, and had basely deserted his family with theproceeds of his crime.

  Meanwhile the men of the family had been having a discussion belowwhich had led to the withdrawal of Uncle Rob from the council. Thefirst point discussed was the amount of the rewards to be offered.Reginald wished it to be large, and, supported by Dick, suggested AL500for the discovery and conviction of the murderer, and AL200 for thediscovery of Abel Death. Uncle Rob opposed this, and contended thatmuch smaller sums would be sufficient, bringing forward instanceswhere the offer of disproportionate rewards had been the cause ofinnocent persons being accused. His views not being accepted,
he hadreluctantly given way. Then they came to the manner in which the billswere to be worded, and Dick had gone to his clothes trunk and hadfished therefrom a miscellaneous collection of literature, which heplaced before them.

  "I once tried my hand at writing a sensation novel," he said, "and Igot together a lot of stuff to assist me. I made a muddle of thestory, and when I was in the middle of it I gave it up. Do youremember this case, uncle?"

  He held up a poster offering a reward of AL100 for the discovery of amurderer. At the top of the bill was the Royal Coat-of-Arms, beneathit, in large type, the word MURDER, and beneath that "AL100 Reward."

  "I remember it well," said Uncle Rob. "That was the Great PorterSquare Mystery. It caused great excitement at the time, and the paperswere full of it. A long time elapsed before the truth came out."

  "And then it wasn't due to Scotland Yard," said Dick; "they maderather a mess of it there. There is one curious point of resemblancebetween that case and ours."

  "I wouldn't speak of that now," said Uncle Rob, with an uneasy glanceat Reginald.

  "Why not? Reginald is prepared for anything that may happen."

  "Quite prepared," said Reginald. "Go on, Dick."

  "You were abroad when all England was ringing with it, and that, Iexpect, is the reason that it didn't reach your ears. I saw in onepaper yesterday a comparison between the cases. The curious point ofresemblance is that the son of the murdered man was arrested by thepolice as the murderer----"

  "They did not know at the time that he was the son," interrupted UncleRob, hurriedly.

  "That didn't justify them. The beauty of it is that after goingthrough no end of trouble and persecution he was proved to beinnocent."

  "I see," said Reginald, composedly.

  "What do you want the bill for?" asked Uncle Rob.

  "As a literary guide. We will word our bill exactly like it."

  "But it is an official bill."

  "Couldn't have a better pattern."

  "Can't you word it some other way, Dick?"

  "No, uncle," replied Dick, almost defiantly. "This is the model Iintend to use."

  Uncle Rob rose. "God forbid that I should do anything to prevent thetruth being brought to light----"

  "Why, uncle!----"

  "But the position I hold," continued Uncle Rob, firmly, "will notallow me to sanction by my co-operation the use and form of officialdocuments. Besides, if it got to be known it would do more harm thangood. My dear lads, I'll wait outside till you've done. I doubt my ownjudgment in this matter; my heart and my head are at odds."

  So saying, he left them. He was not the only one whose heart and headwere in conflict during this crisis; Dick alone could be depended uponto pursue a certain course with calm, unshaken mind, and now, when heand Reginald were together, he met with no opposition. Thepreliminaries, therefore, were soon arranged, and they returned to thebreakfast room at the moment that Aunt Rob and Florence and Gracieentered.

  "Why, Gracie," exclaimed Dick, his face flushing with pleasure at theimprovement in her attire, "you look like a princess."

  "She did it," said Gracie, pointing to Aunt Rob; "and oh, Dick, I dofeel so nice and warm underneath!"

  "Never was a fairy godmother like Aunt Rob," said Dick, and was goingon when she stopped him abruptly.

  "Where's father?"

  "Walking up and down outside till you're ready. He didn't agree tosomething I proposed, and between you and me he ought not to have ahand in what I'm about to do."

  "He's in a cruel position. Florence, its half-past ten; we must getready. You do what you've got to do, Dick, and don't talk so freebefore Uncle Rob about your plans; it only upsets him."

  "All right, aunt." He hesitated a moment, then went up to Florence,who was putting on her hat. "Florence, dear, you must be brave."

  "I'll try to be, Dick."

  "Keep a stout heart, whatever the verdict may be. It was very darklast night, and I kept my eyes on a star that was trying to breakthrough the clouds. I put a great stake on that star, Florence. I saidto myself, 'If it breaks through and I see it shining bright,Florence, after a little while, will be the happiest woman inEngland.' A great stake, Florence."

  "Yes, dear Dick."

  "It glimmered and glimmered. A cloud passed over it, another, another,but its light was never quite obscured. Remember that."

  "I will."

  "And then at last, when there seemed to be no hope for it, the cloudscleared away, and it shone as bright, as bright!--and the stake waswon. That is how it's going to be with the trouble that's upon us. Yousee, Florence, it wasn't only your happiness that was at stake; it wasmine as well."

  "Yours, Dick!" And now there was a look of pain in her eyes.

  "Yes, mine, for if, working with all my heart and soul, I can realisemy dearest wish, you will have a long life of happiness with the manyou love." He looked brightly around. "Good luck, my dears. Come,Gracie."