Dead Man's Love Part 29

"They?" He looked at me questioningly.

"Yes, the woman as well as her master. I have just heard that Dr. Just has been seen hanging about outside the house late last night, with another man."

I saw his face blanch, I saw him moisten his lips with his tongue and clutch with one feeble hand at the back of his chair. I took no particular notice of that, although long after I wished I had done; I knew how easily startled he was.

"You say that two men--two men watched this house last night, very late?" he muttered.

"Yes," I answered carelessly. "And one of them at least--this Bardolph Just--will stick at nothing to get what he wants. He's of the sort that snaps his fingers at a small matter of death."

My Uncle Zabdiel twisted the chair round with a nervous movement, and sank into it. I saw that he was trembling from head to foot. He seemed to be brooding heavily upon something. Looking at him, I caught his eyes more than once wandering covertly in my direction.

"And you think that he would do anything to get hold of this girl?" he asked.

"There is not only the girl to be considered by him, but the very large fortune which belongs to her, and which he also wishes to get hold of. I tell you he will stick at nothing," I a.s.sured him earnestly.

"He will stick at nothing!" he echoed, drawing a deep breath.

"By the way, Uncle Zabdiel, have you been troubled with that dream of yours again?" I asked carelessly.

To my surprise he started to his feet with what was almost a cry. "No, no! why should I dream that again?" he stammered, staring at me.

"Haven't I tried to forget it--haven't I persuaded myself that I had forgotten it. Oh, dear G.o.d! that these things should be sent to trouble a poor old man who has done his best always for everybody!" he moaned.

"There, there--go away; leave me alone! I want time to think--or rather time not to think."

I went away and left him, closing the door after me. Just as I reached the hall door I came upon that tall youth, Andrew Ferkoe. He grinned amiably. A sudden thought occurring to me, I drew him aside, and whispered to him--

"Look here," I said, "I believe you're a friend of mine, aren't you?"

"Rather!" he said. "You're so wonderful; you've seen such things, and done such things."

"Never mind about that," I said hastily. "I want you to promise to come to me, if you think Miss Matchwick is in any danger, or if you think anyone is plotting against her. See, here is my address"--I scribbled it on a sc.r.a.p of paper and thrust it into his hands--"and I shall rely upon you to be faithful, to her as well as to me. Will you?"

He seemed quite elated at his commission. "Do you really trust me?" he asked gleefully. "I'd do anything for you, and for her. I feel somehow that I'm getting braver and stronger. I shan't put up much longer with old Blowfield's bullying. I feel sometimes when I look at him that I could do murder!"

I laughed as I went out of the house. The idea of this weak-kneed, lanky youth, of all others, "doing murder" seemed too ridiculous. I went on my way feeling pretty well satisfied with the turn of events, and firmly convinced that the very fears under which Uncle Zabdiel laboured were the greatest safeguard Debora and I could have. Moreover, I had gained one other friend in that strange house, and that was Andrew Ferkoe.

My lodging was in a little house not very far, as you may have guessed, from that house belonging to Uncle Zabdiel in which Debora had so opportunely found shelter. On this particular evening I was in no hurry to retire to the one little room I had rented. On a sudden impulse I made up my mind that I would linger a little while in the neighbourhood, and would see, if possible, for myself whether or not those two shadows on the wall really belonged to the doctor and to William Capper. So I took up my station not very far from the house, but in a position from which I could observe it easily; and there I waited.

I will not describe my long wait, nor the shadows I saw, which might have been the shadows of the doctor and Capper, but which were not. I was disappointed fifty times at least, felt my heart jump as many times when two men, or even one man, came anywhere in my direction, or happened by the merest chance to glance towards that house. I had not fully made up my mind what to do should either man put in an appearance, and indeed I was saved the trouble of putting into execution any plan I might have evolved, by reason of the fact that no one I knew came near the house.

Once, it is true, from where I watched, I saw an upper window open, and the head of Uncle Zabdiel, like some extremely ugly gargoyle, obtrude itself into the night. I guessed, with an inward chuckle, that he might be looking for those shadows for which I also was on the watch. But soon afterwards that window was closed, and the house was wrapped in silence and darkness. I kept my vigil until something towards three in the morning, and then went off to my lodging. In five minutes I was undressed and in bed; the rest was a dreamless sleep.

Lest I should be watched, I determined that I would not go near Zabdiel Blowfield's house in daylight, or without taking due precautions. I thought it possible that the woman Martha Leach might make a further attempt, for the sake of her master, to discover something about me or about Debora. I determined that I would not play into their hands. I remembered what Bardolph Just had said about going abroad; I had great hopes that he might carry that into effect, and so rid us all of his presence. Perhaps in a saner moment I reflected that he was scarcely the type of man to give up the game so lightly; but then when one is in love one is usually optimistic. However, there was nothing for it but to wait, and to possess my soul in patience.

I was taking things very easily indeed that evening, lounging in the window of my room, and smoking, and looking at the early stars that were peeping out above me, when I became aware of a strange-looking figure coming slowly up the deserted little street. Without troubling very much about it, I became interested in the figure, which was that of a tall, ungainly young man, whose face and head, from my elevated position, were hidden by a hat which appeared to be many sizes too large for him. He was craning his neck this way and that, apparently looking for some particular house; every now and then he referred to a sc.r.a.p of paper which he held in his fingers. I was watching him idly, when all at once I woke from my half-dream and started to my feet; with my hands leaning on the window-sill I stared down at him intently.

At that same moment he happened to look up towards me and I recognised him. It was Andrew Ferkoe. I waved my hand, and nodded to him, and with every extravagant sign of precaution he looked to right and to left, and then came to the door of the house. I ran down and admitted him myself; then I took him up to my room before permitting him to say a word. Once in the room, with the door shut, I saw to my horror that he was shaking from head to foot, and was alternately slapping his breast, and striving to get some words out.

"What's the matter?" I asked. "Take your time about it; there's nothing to get excited about."

He gasped again in that inarticulate fas.h.i.+on once or twice; then he blurted out his message.

"She--she's gone!"

I pushed him into a chair and stood over him, with my hands on my hips, striving by my own steadiness to put some steadiness into him. For a time he only moaned, and shook his head and gaped at me, but at last, by dint of threats and even some coaxing, I got his story out of him.

"Early this morning old Blowfield sent me with a telegram addressed to a Dr. Just; it was written out on a piece of paper, and I had to copy it at the post-office. It was addressed to Dr. Just at a house in Highgate.

"Well, well, what did it say?" I asked impatiently.

"I'm coming to it as fast as I can," said Andrew Ferkoe resentfully.

"You forget I ain't used to this sort of thing. It simply said, 'Come at once; can give you news of the runaway,' and it was signed 'Z.

Blowfield,' with the address."

I strangled an oath in my throat; I vowed that Uncle Zabdiel should pay dearly for his treachery. "And what happened after that?" I demanded.

"About mid-day a tall, dark man drove up in a great hurry and asked for old Blowfield--at least, he asked for Mr. Blowfield," went on Ferkoe. "I was turned out of the room, but they talked together for a long time.

Then the bell was rung, and I was told to go and find the young lady, and tell her she was wanted. After she'd gone into the room I did what I'd never done before," he added with a chuckle. "I listened outside."

"Good lad!" I murmured.

He went on again, seemingly elated at my praise of him. "They kept on talking, all three of them, and I heard the young lady say over and over again, 'I won't! I won't!' and the dark man kept on threatening, and saying what he would do, and old Blowfield kept on telling her that it was for the best, and that she'd better go back, though I don't know in the least where he meant her to go. The door was open just the least little bit, and I saw and heard everything, because old Blowfield would never dream that I should dare to do a thing like that."

"You're very slow!" I cried impatiently. "Tell me what happened then; what did the young lady do? Did she refuse to leave the house?"

"Yes, she kept on saying she wouldn't. And I'm being as fast as I can, only there's such a lot to tell. I should get on faster if you weren't so impatient."

I subdued my wrath as best I could. I decided to let him go on in his own fas.h.i.+on.

"And then the funniest thing happened," he said, sitting upright in his chair in his excitement, and staring at me round-eyed. "The dark man--Dr. Just, I suppose--began to spread out his hands--like this"--he made a curious fluttering movement with his hands before my face, so grotesque a movement that I should have laughed under any other circ.u.mstances--"and began to talk in a very low, smooth voice to the young lady. At first she cried out to him to keep away from her, and covered up her face with her hands, but after a time she dropped the hands and stared at him. I saw her drop down into a chair and shut her eyes. He never left off talking; he seemed to be telling her something she was to do. He spoke so softly that I couldn't catch everything, but he said something about a carriage, and about four o'clock in the afternoon. Then suddenly he clapped his hands, and she jumped up, and looked at him as if she was frightened."

"You dolt!" I shouted, shaking him. "This devilish business happened at mid-day, and here's night, and you've only just arrived to tell the tale."

"It wasn't my fault," he whimpered. "You ought to know what that house is like; I'm watched every minute. I tried over and over again to slip out, and couldn't; I only managed it, as it was, after it got dark. I've done my best."

"I beg your pardon," I said penitently. "I'm quite sure you have. Now tell me what else happened."

"Dr. Just went away, and the young lady went off to her room. I went back to work, and old Blowfield kept on walking up and down the room, and muttering to himself. Once he stopped, in order to ask me about you.

He wanted to know if I'd seen you."

"Yes, I should think he would want to know that!" I muttered between my teeth.

"He said if you came near the house I wasn't to let you in; I was to go for the police, or do something else to keep you away. Above all, I was to give him warning, so that he could lock himself in somewhere."

I laughed grimly. I knew that I had already secured the allegiance of this poor warder, and could get at my man when I wanted to do so. I urged him to go on with his tale.

"Then, just as four o'clock was striking, and I was working, old Blowfield gave me an awful fright; he suddenly put his hand on my shoulder and whispered in my ear. 'Do you hear that?' he said; and I wondered what he meant. And then I heard someone coming downstairs, singing as they came."

I could scarcely contain myself, but I determined I would wait for the end. In his excitement Andrew Ferkoe had risen to his feet, and was staring at me in the wildest fas.h.i.+on.