The Woman's Way Part 40

His voice, for all its sternness, shook and his face was red and working; for this was the most important moment of Inspector Brown's life, and it was little wonder that he was agitated and strung up. While the great detective from Scotland Yard was doing nothing, here had he, the Inspector, actually discovered the criminal, caught him red-handed, so to speak!

"It is no use your offering any resistance," he said, brusquely. "Three or four constables are within call; you could not possibly escape. I've had my eye upon you for some time, my man, and have taken precautions."

This a.s.sertion was not strictly true, but the Inspector almost felt it was.

Derrick stared at the red face in a kind of stupefied amazement; at last he said:

"You mean that you are charging me with stealing this thing?"

"I do," replied the Inspector; "and you may as well hand it over to me without any fuss."

"I shall be delighted to do so," said Derrick, grimly.

He had not yet realized the full significance of the Inspector's first formal words; for the moment Derrick's mind was engrossed by the sardonic irony of Fate. Here it was again! There was something really monotonous in the way in which this peculiar phase of misfortune dogged him. Was he really going to be again charged with an offence he had not committed? He opened his lips to speak; to say where he had found the box; then he remembered the words "attempted murder," and instead of giving information--which the Inspector would certainly have received with incredulity--Derrick said quietly and with a sudden pallor,

"Did I understand you to charge me with attempted murder as well as robbery?"

"I did," responded the Inspector, sternly. "The attempted murder of the Marquess of Sutcombe."

Derrick did not start, made no exclamation, but the pallor of his face increased and he gave a little nod. If this box had been stolen, the man who had hidden it was, in all probability, the thief--and attempted murderer. Percy--the Marquess's own son! Confused and bewildered as he was, Derrick had sense enough left in him to feel that he must hold his tongue.

"All right," he said, very gravely. "I should like to say----"

"If you'll take my advice, you'll say nothing," broke in the Inspector, in an official manner. "You must know as well as I do that everything you say----"

"Quite so," said Derrick. "Where are you going to take me?"

"To the lock-up at Fleckfield," replied the Inspector, much relieved in his mind now that he saw his prisoner was not going to offer any resistance, give any trouble. "You're quite right to take it quietly. As I said, we're surrounded by my men. What's this?"

"This" was Celia, coming through the wood and hastening her steps at the sound of Derrick's voice. She stopped dead short, at sight of the two men, looking from one to the other in surprise, but no alarm; then she advanced to Derrick with, "Sydney!" on her lips.

"Why, it's you, Miss Grant!" said the Inspector. "I'm glad you've come up--though this is no place for you." He paused and looked at her in a puzzled way. "But you know this man, you called him 'Sydney'?"

"What does he mean?" asked Celia, in a bewildered fas.h.i.+on, of Derrick.

"Why does he speak like that?--Oh, what does it mean!"

"It means that the Inspector here is making a mistake, Celia," said Derrick gravely, but without any resentment. "It appears that there has been a robbery at the Hall----"

"You've heard nothing about it!" exclaimed Celia.

"No," said Derrick, quietly. "I left for London yesterday morning early; I returned this morning, saw no one, heard nothing of it."

"Oh, come now, you'd better keep silent," interrupted the Inspector.

"Miss Grant, I met this gentleman"--he hesitated on the word--"with this"--he tapped the box--"in his possession. I know, from the description, that it is the missing jewel-case, and I have arrested him on the charge of robbery and attempted murder. How you seem to know him--I don't understand----"

Celia stood as if turned to stone for a moment or two; her eyes wandering from the faces of the two men to the jewel-case; then she broke out,

"Sydney, why don't you explain?--It's a mistake, Inspector, a terrible mistake! I know this gentleman; I--I am engaged to him, I am going to be his wife. It's--absurd to suspect him!--Sydney, where did you find the thing?"

"Now, Miss Grant," said the Inspector soothingly, before Derrick could reply. "Let me advise you, as I have already advised the prisoner, not to say another word. I am sorry, truly sorry that a young lady of your--position should be so intimately acquainted, should be----Dear, dear, this is very sad, Miss Grant! I think you'd better go back to the Hall. But please don't say anything to Mr. Jacobs; I will come back to him directly I have seen the prisoner locked up."

Celia was calm now; her momentary terror had given place to grief and pity for the man she loved. Not for a second did any doubt of his innocence a.s.sail her. With that almost divine intuition of true love, she knew, not only that he was innocent, but that this crime was in some way or other connected with the former one, that of the forged cheque.

"Yes, I will go back to the Hall," she said; "but you will let me speak to Mr. Green before I go?"

"Of course, I can't prevent you," said the Inspector; "but you must say what you have to say in my hearing, and, of course, I shall take note of every word."

Celia went to Derrick, put her arm round his neck and kissed him.

"I can wait, dearest," she said. "You will not let this--this weigh upon you, trouble you?"

He was silent for a moment, his lips working; but the kiss she had impressed upon him strengthened and nerved him.

"G.o.d bless you, Celia!" he murmured, very quietly. "Go now! One moment--is the Marquess dying?"

"No," she said, with a dry little sob. "He is very bad, has been dreadfully injured, but he may recover."

"Thank G.o.d!" said Derrick. "That is all I will say. Go back, now, dearest. I will write to you--if they will let me."

The two men moved on; but she stood, her hand pressed against the tree, as if for support, as if she were unable to move, her eyes following the two figures; and as she watched them, in an agony, she saw a third figure coming through the gate. For a moment she did not recognize it, then she saw that it was Mr. Clendon. She saw him stop in front of the other two men and she ran forward, calling his name, and, in another instant, she was clinging to him. The old man murmured her name soothingly, and she tried to control herself; but her voice was broken by sobs, as she said:

"Oh, Mr. Clendon, I am in great trouble. They have arrested him--the man I am going to marry----" She could get no further.

Mr. Clendon looked steadily, piercingly at Derrick; and Derrick, as if answering the look, shook his head slightly and shrugged his shoulders.

"Who is this?" demanded the Inspector, impatiently; for, naturally, he was anxious to get his prisoner under lock and key.

"I am a friend of Miss Grant's and this gentleman," said Mr. Clendon.

"You need not explain, I have heard of the robbery. I am on my way to the Hall. The Marquess is--a friend of mine, an old friend. One moment,"

he added to the Inspector, "I want to tell this gentleman you have arrested--under a mistake, I am convinced--that I am a.s.sured of his innocence, and that I charge myself with his defence."

He held out his hand to Derrick as he spoke; the two men exchanged grips and looked into each other's eyes; and again Derrick was conscious of that peculiar thrill which he had felt when he first touched Mr.

Clendon's hand.

"Thank you, sir," he said, quietly. "Will you please take care of Miss Grant--Celia? I should like you to take her away now."

"Come, my dear," said Mr. Clendon; and looking over her shoulder till Derrick had disappeared, Celia went with Mr. Clendon, her hand in his.

"Do you think you can tell me all you know about this terrible business?" he said, when she had yielded to the relief of tears and was calmer and more composed.

Celia told him all she knew, and Mr. Clendon listened with attention and in silence.

"Of course, he is innocent," she wound up. "Oh, Mr. Clendon, I'm so glad you've come; it is as if--as if you had been sent to me. A moment or two ago I felt as--as I saw him taken away--that I was left alone in the world; but I feel now that I have a friend----"

"I trust that you have, my child," he said. "Don't cry any more. Tears cost so much; and I am convinced that you need not weep for fear of your lover's safety. He has been wrongfully accused; I do not doubt that for a moment."

"You don't; I know you don't! But why?" said Celia. "The jewel-case--I know it was the jewel-case, because the bank has telegraphed to say that poor Lord Sutcombe took it from the bank, and he must have brought it here--it was in the safe, was stolen from it. And the Inspector said that he had found it in Sydney's possession. That looks so black against him. And yet--you are as convinced of his innocence as I am!"