My Strangest Case Part 19

"Perhaps you will tell me what you suspect?"

"Will you forgive me, in my turn, if I am abrupt, or if I speak my mind a little too plainly?"

"You could not do that," she answered with a sigh. "I want to know your exact thoughts, and then I shall be able to form my own conclusions."

"Well," I said, "before I begin, may I put one or two questions to you?

You will, of course, remember that I had never seen or heard of your uncle and Mr. Codd until they stopped me on Ludgate Hill. They were and practically are strangers to me. I have heard their story of their treasure, but I have not heard what any one else has to say upon the subject."

"I think I understand. Now what are your questions?"

"In the first place, did your late father ever speak to you of his brother as being a missionary in China?"

She shook her head, and from the look upon her face I could see that I had touched upon something painful. This, at least, was one of the things that had struck her as suspicious.

"If he were a missionary, I am quite sure my father did not know it,"

she said. "In fact I always understood that he was somewhat of a scapegrace, and in consequence could never settle down to anything. That is your first, now what is your second question, Mr. Fairfax?"

I paused for a moment before I replied.

"My second partakes more of the nature of an a.s.sertion than a question,"

I answered. "As I read it, you are more afraid of what may happen should the two men meet than anything else."

"Yes, that is just what I _am_ afraid of," she replied. "My uncle's temper is so violent, and his desire for revenge so absorbing, that I dare not think what would happen if he came into actual contact with Hayle. Now that I have replied to your questions, will you give me the answer I want? That is to say will you tell me what you think of the whole affair?"

"If you wish it, I will," I said slowly. "You have promised to permit me to be candid, and I am going to take advantage of that permission. In my own mind I do not believe the story they tell. I do not believe that they were ever missionaries, though we have convincing proofs that they have been in the hands of the Chinese. That Hayle betrayed them I have not the least doubt, it seems consistent with his character, but where they obtained the jewels, that are practically the keystones to the whole affair, I have no more notion than you. They may have been honestly come by, or they may not. So far as the present case is concerned that fact is immaterial. There is still, however, one vital point we have to consider. If the gems in question belong equally to the three men, each is ent.i.tled to his proper share, either of the stones or of the amounts realized by the sale. That share, as you already know, would amount to a considerable sum of money. Your uncle, I take it, has not a penny-piece in the world, and his companion is in the same dest.i.tute condition. Now we will suppose that I find Hayle for them, and they meet. Does it not seem to you quite possible that your uncle's rage might lead him to do something desperate, in order to revenge himself upon the other? But if he could command himself he would probably get his money? If, on the other hand, they do not meet, then what is to be done? Forgive me, Miss Kit.w.a.ter, for prying into your private affairs, but in my opinion it is manifestly unfair that you should have to support these two men for the rest of their existences."

"You surely must see that I would rather do that than let my father's brother commit a crime," she returned, more earnestly than she had yet spoken.

The position was decidedly an awkward one. It was some proof of the girl's sterling qualities that she should be prepared to make such a sacrifice for the sake of a man whom it was certainly impossible to love, and for that reason even to respect. I looked at her with an admiration in my face that I did not attempt to conceal. I said nothing by way of praise, however. It would have been an insult to her to have even hinted at such a thing.

"Pardon me," I said at last, "but there is one thing that must be taken into consideration. Some day, Miss Kit.w.a.ter, you may marry, and in that case your husband might not care about the arrangement you have made.

Such things have happened before now."

She blushed a rosy red and hesitated before she replied.

"I do not consider it very likely that I shall ever marry," she answered. "And even if I did I should certainly not marry a man who would object to my doing what I consider to be my duty. And now that we have discussed all this, Mr. Fairfax, what do you think we had better do? I understood you to say to my uncle that you intend leaving for Paris to-morrow morning, in order to continue your search for the man Hayle. Supposing you find him, what will you do then?"

"In such a case," I said slowly, looking at her all the time, "I should endeavour to get your uncle's and Codd's share of the treasure from him.

If I am successful, then I shall let him go where he pleases."

"And supposing you are unsuccessful in obtaining the money or the gems?"

"Then I must endeavour to think of some other way," I replied, "but somehow I do not think I shall be unsuccessful."

"Nor do I," she answered, looking me full and fair in the face. "I fancy you know that I believe in you most implicitly, Mr. Fairfax."

"In that case, do you mind shaking hands upon it?" I said.

"I will do so with much pleasure," she answered. "You cannot imagine what a weight you have lifted off my mind. I have been so depressed about it lately that I have scarcely known what to do. I have lain awake at night, turning it over and over in my mind, and trying to convince myself as to what was best to be done. Then my uncle told me you were coming down here, and I resolved to put the case before you as I have done and to ask your opinion."

She gave me her little hand, and I took it and held it in my own. Then I released it and we strode back along the garden-path together without another word. The afternoon was well advanced by this time, and when we reached the summer-house, where Codd was still reading, we found that a little wicker tea-table had been brought out from the house and that chairs had been placed for us round it. To my thinking there is nothing that becomes a pretty woman more than the mere commonplace act of pouring out tea. It was certainly so in this case. When I looked at the white cloth upon the table, the heavy bra.s.s tray, and the silver jugs and teapot, and thought of my own cracked earthenware vessel, then reposing in a cupboard in my office, and in which I brewed my cup of tea every afternoon, I smiled to myself. I felt that I should never use it again without recalling this meal. After that I wondered whether it would ever be my good fortune to sit in this garden again, and to sip my Orange Pekoe from the same dainty service. The thought that I might not do so was, strangely enough, an unpleasant one, and I put it from me with all promptness. During the meal, Kit.w.a.ter scarcely uttered a word.

We had exhausted the probabilities of the case long since, and I soon found that he could think or talk of nothing else. At six o'clock I prepared to make my adieux. My train left Bishopstowe for London at the half-hour, and I should just have time to walk the distance comfortably.

To my delight my hostess decided to go to church, and said she would walk with me as far as the lych-gate. She accordingly left us and went into the house to make her toilet. As soon as she had gone Kit.w.a.ter fumbled his way across to where I was sitting, and having discovered a chair beside me, seated himself in it.

"Mr. Fairfax," said he, "I labour under the fear that you cannot understand my position. Can you realize what it is like to feel shut up in the dark, waiting and longing always for only one thing? Could you not let me come to Paris with you to-morrow?"

"Impossible," I said. "It is out of the question. It could not be thought of for a moment!"

"But why not? I can see no difficulty in it?"

"If for no other reason because it would destroy any chance of my even getting on the scent. I should be hampered at every turn."

He heaved a heavy sigh.

"Blind! blind!" he said with despair in his voice. "But I know that I shall meet him some day, and when I do----"

His ferocity was the more terrible by reason of his affliction.

"Only wait, Mr. Kit.w.a.ter," I replied. "Wait, and if I can help you, you shall have your treasure back again. Will you then be satisfied?"

"Yes, I'll be satisfied," he answered, but with what struck me as almost reluctance. "Yes, when I have my treasure back again I'll be satisfied, and so will Codd. In the meantime I'll wait here in the dark, the dark in which the days and nights are the same. Yes, I'll wait and wait and wait."

At that moment Miss Kit.w.a.ter made her reappearance in the garden, and I rose to bid my clients farewell.

"Good-bye, Mr. Kit.w.a.ter," I said. "I'll write immediately I reach Paris, and let you know how I am getting on."

"You are very kind," Kit.w.a.ter answered, and Codd nodded his head.

My hostess and I then set off down the drive to the righ road which we followed towards the village. It was a perfect evening, and the sun was setting in the west in a ma.s.s of crimson and gold. At first we talked of various commonplace subjects, but it was not very long before we came back, as I knew we should do, to the one absorbing topic.

"There is another thing I want to set right with you, Miss Kit.w.a.ter," I said, as we paused upon the bridge to which I have elsewhere referred.

"It is only a small matter. Somehow, however, I feel that I must settle it, before I can proceed further in the affair with any satisfaction to myself."

She looked at me in surprise.

"What is it?" she asked, "I thought we had settled everything."

"So far as I can see that is the only matter that remains," I answered.

"Yet it is sufficiently important to warrant my speaking to you about it. What I want to know is, who I am serving?"

"I don't think I understand," she said, drawing lines with her umbrella upon the stone coping of the bridge as she spoke.

"And yet my meaning is clear," I returned. "What I want to be certain of is, whether I am serving you or your uncle?"

"I don't think you are _serving_ either of us," she answered. "You are helping us to right a great wrong."

"Forgive me, but that is merely trifling with words. I am going to be candid once more. You are paying the money, I believe?"