The Rider of Waroona Part 13

She shook her head.

"It is not a matter I can sum up in a few brief sentences," she replied.

"If you cannot arrange things with Brennan and then come to me here, pray forget I mentioned anything about it."

He moved uneasily as she averted her face and sat back in her chair.

"I will see what I can do," he said shortly, and left the room.

When he returned to the office he found Brennan talking to Bessie, who had brought him some supper and a couple of blankets with which to make a bed on the floor. Brennan nodded towards them as Bessie disappeared.

"You know the idea of my being here at all, don't you?" he asked.

"To tell you the truth, I don't," Harding replied.

"The Sub-Inspector fancies someone may try to get back to learn what he can about our doings. You know who will most likely be asked, and so you see what it means when, as soon as I am here, and before I say a word about staying, these things are brought in. As if there is likely to be any sleep for me with the chance of the Sub-Inspector riding up any hour and catching me off duty. But it shows what's in the wind, doesn't it?"

"Mrs. Eustace has asked me to discuss something with her," Harding said quietly. "She knows you are here to-night."

"Oh, yes, Mr. Harding. She knows that, I've no doubt, but how did she or the girl know I was to be on duty here all the night? Don't you see?

Supposing the Sub-Inspector is right, and a certain person we know wants to hear all that had happened since he went away, is he likely to come while I am here? It is not difficult to put a lighted lamp in a window, or to leave a blind pulled up or drawn down, is it? Anything of the kind is enough to give him a warning that the coast is clear or that there is danger ahead."

"Oh, but we can easily stop that," Harding exclaimed. "We can easily prevent any signal being used."

"If you know what the signal is," Brennan said. "But if you don't know, what are you to do?"

"We shall have to watch."

"That's it, we shall have to watch and take care n.o.body knows it,"

Brennan replied in a low tone. "Have you a revolver?"

"No. The one we kept in the bank was stolen from the drawer with the money."

"Then slip this into your pocket," Brennan said, as he pa.s.sed a bright nickel-plated "bull-dog" to Harding. "It's loaded in all the chambers and has a snap trigger; but it's no good for a long shot, though it makes as much noise as a service carbine. Don't hesitate to use it if anything happens--the noise will let me know, and there's no danger of hitting anyone with it unless you are a better shot than I am."

"But where are you going?"

Brennan jerked his head towards the door.

"You see me off the premises and then tell the girl to fetch those blankets away again. After that, keep your eyes open and rest a.s.sured that as soon as you let off the barker I've given you, I shall not be far off. If there is any arrangement such as I have suggested, my going now will put them off their guard and our gentleman will get the signal to make his call as expected. Bringing in those blankets has given the game away--to me it shows just what is in the wind."

When he had seen Brennan off the premises, Harding told Bessie to remove the blankets from the office, and returned to the little room.

The door was ajar when he reached it, but there was no answer to his rap. He pushed it open and entered. Mrs. Eustace was not there.

He turned, and came face to face with her as he stood in the doorway, though he had not heard her approach.

"I did not hear you coming," he exclaimed.

"No, I am wearing light shoes," she answered. "But won't you sit down?

Have you made all your arrangements? I don't want to begin to say what I wish if you will have to go away before I have finished."

"There is nothing to call me away now. Brennan has gone," he said, as he took the chair she indicated.

"Before I begin, I must ask you to forgive me for mentioning the subject at all," she said slowly.

She sat facing him and, up to that moment, had kept her eyes fixed on him; but as she ceased speaking she glanced aside until her head was bowed as it had been previously. He took advantage of the opportunity to give one quick look round. The chair in which he sat was so placed that the profile of the person occupying it was thrown by the light of the lamp directly upon the window-blind. The window faced the bush at the back of the bank.

He moved his chair until his shadow fell on the wall, but then the lamp was between her and himself, and he could not watch her face.

"I will take this chair," he said shortly, as he stepped to the one where she had been sitting when he first came to the room. From it he commanded not only a complete view of her, but also out of the window, for the blind, pulled down to the full extent, was slightly askew, and left a s.p.a.ce between it and the window-pane. Through that s.p.a.ce he could see across the yard to the fence running round the allotment, and beyond it to the dark line of the bush, rendered the darker at the moment by the soft sheen of the rising moon showing above it.

A silence followed his movement, a silence during which she fidgeted uneasily and impatiently.

"You do not answer," she said presently. "Shall I go on?"

"I am waiting for you to do so," he replied.

"You will forgive me for mentioning this subject?"

"You have not mentioned any subject yet, Mrs. Eustace. I don't know what it is you wish to talk about."

"I am afraid it is very distasteful to you. I am not surprised if it is, but--if you knew everything in connection with it, you might think differently. That is why I want to tell you."

"Yes," he said indifferently, as she paused.

"You do not want to speak of it," she said again. "But I must explain--I ought to have done so directly you came up here. I want to explain my conduct to you when I returned your----"

"There is no need," he interrupted her. "That matter was at an end at once. There is no benefit to be gained by attempting to revive it."

"I do not seek to revive it," she retorted, colouring at his words.

"Surely if I wish to set straight what I know is not straight, I am not seeking to revive it? I wish to make one thing clear to you. You have not known Charlie as long as I have. Neither do you know him as well as I do. In the face of the accusations made by that police inspector anything may be said or suspected."

He did not reply, and she went on.

"You, hearing Charlie painted in the blackest colours, are not likely to raise any protest either to yourself or to anyone else. You will rather believe all ill of him and will most likely impute things to him he never did. One thing I do not want blamed on to him. Those letters and things which were sent back to you, I sent--I sent them entirely myself--Charlie did not send them--I sent them."

She looked up at him quickly and then away as though she feared to meet his eyes.

"Is that all you wished to tell me?" he asked.

"I wished to tell you--all about it. I do not want you to blame Charlie.

It was not his fault--nothing was his fault. I was a silly, flighty girl and fancied myself in love with everyone, whereas, really, I never cared at all, not until I met him. I don't want you to think he was to blame, because, if you do, you may want to be revenged on him, and now you have this opportunity you may take it. If you believe me and realise he had nothing whatever to do with my changing my mind, more than to come into my life, as he did, then you may sympathise with him in his present trouble and save him all you can."

She did not attempt to look at him again as she spoke. He leaned back in his chair and turned his glance away from her, away to the s.p.a.ce between the window and the blind. The first glint of the moon was stealing over the dark line of the bush and spreading over the open country between it and the line of fence. He could see, indistinctly, what seemed to be a heavy shadow moving slowly away from the trees.

"It is a subject on which I would rather say nothing, Mrs. Eustace," he said presently, without removing his eyes from the window. "If you wish to speak about it, and you think it will ease your mind in any way, I will listen to all you wish to say. But do not expect me to reply to you. Do not expect me to express any opinion. I do not wish to appear harsh, but I must tell you that so far as I am concerned, the curtain was rung down upon the last act of my romance when my letters were returned--was rung down to remain down for ever."

"I was afraid it would be a distasteful subject to you," she said; "but I must talk about it--I must. I have wanted to tell you for so long--I wanted to write to you and explain after the things were sent off, but--but it was so difficult. I felt how horrible it was of me, how horrible and how mean, never to say one word, but just throw everything in your face after--after all you had done for me. I deserve to suffer what I am going through now--I deserve everything. It was so contemptible of me to allow myself to be--to do what I did," she added quickly, and he felt rather than saw the way she glanced at him, for he was still staring out through the narrow opening between the window and the blind, away at the curious dark shadowy patch which was slowly moving further and further away from the line of thickly growing trees.