In spite of himself Cleek’s
nerves gave an absolute jump, but being an adept in
the art of dissimulation, he laughed lightly and gave
Hamer a quizzical look.
“The Lady in Pink, eh?”
he said cheerily. “You know more than your
prayers, I’m afraid, Hamer. Now what in
the world made you think he’d be calling on
her last night, eh?”
“Well, sir, I can’t exactly
say what, unless it was a sort of putting two and
two together, sir. I’d seen him with her
over Kingston way on my day off, only she wasn’t
dressed in pink then, of course. And last night,
a deal earlier in the evening, just about the time
Lady Katharine and Miss Lorne was starting for Clavering
Close it was, sir, I happens to go round back and
slip into Mulberry Lane for a pull at my pipe on the
sly master never letting any of the servants
smoke in the grounds, and housekeeper objecting to
pipes in the servants’ hall and just
as I comes out, there she was a-standing in the shadow
of the trees, and so close up to the wall that I nigh
barged into her, sir.”
“Who? The Lady in Pink?”
“Yes, sir. Took her by
surprise, coming out in that unexpected manner, and
she just had time to throw a pink scarf she was wearing
over her face and hurry away, sir, before I could
so much as apologize. But quick as she was it
didn’t prevent me a-seeing of her, sir, and recognizing
her as the lady I’d seen Mr. Harry with on my
day off, although, as I say, sir, she was dressed
quite different last night. Looked to me as she
was going to some sort of an evening affair: a
dance or the theatre or something of that sort; for
she didn’t have any hat on, and although she
was wearing a long black cloak that reached almost
to the ground, I could see when she made such a bolt
to get out of sight that it was lined with ermine,
and that, under it, she wore a rose-pink evening frock
that she was holding up to keep from touching the ground.”
Cleek did not so much as turn a hair,
although beneath his placid exterior something in
the nature of a tumult was raging. And why not?
For here, undoubtedly, was the pink gauze dress that
had left the fragment on the nail head at Gleer Cottage
last night; and here, too, was a garment which, being
turned inside out, would become in truth an ermine
cloak!
“Oho! Now I see how you
came by the idea that Mr. Harry had gone out to meet
her, Hamer,” he said with the utmost serenity.
“Quite natural, quite, in the circumstances;
only, as it turns out, you were mistaken. Mr.
Harry spent the evening with me, and as we had the
misfortune to miss the Pink Lady altogether, we didn’t
see her at all last night, worse luck. But, I
say, that’s letting you into something, isn’t
it? Well, here’s half a crown to pay you
to forget all about it and to keep your tongue behind
your teeth. Understand?”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.
Much obliged, sir. Won’t breathe a word
to a living soul.”
“Mind you don’t, or you’ll
spoil sport and wait! Stop a moment!
Got time to do something for me?”
“Oh, yes, indeed, sir.
Plenty of time; no end of it this evening. Master
says he’ll be up best part of the night reading,
sir, and won’t need me at all to-night; so if
it’s to go anywhere or to carry any message for
you, sir, I’ve got hours at my disposal.”
“Thanks, but I shan’t
require any more than a minute or two of your time.
I’ll just scrawl a line on the leaf of my notebook,
and ph, blow! Another fellow’s
evening clothes! And, besides, when I come to
think, it was in the pocket of the coat that confounded
thief carried off. Slip into the library and
get me a sheet of paper and a bit of pencil, will
you? Look sharp!”
“Couldn’t do that, sir couldn’t
get what you want from the library, I mean. Master’s
in there reading, sir, and he’s locked the door
and given orders that nobody’s to disturb him.
But if a bit of typewriting paper will do, sir ”
“Yes, certainly. The very
thing. Can you get me a sheet or two?”
“As much as you care to have,
sir. It’s all in the hall cupboard along
with the typewriter itself. Master had them taken
there when he’d finished his book and let the
typist go. I’ll get you some in an instant,
sir.”
He hurried away forthwith and was
back presently with half a dozen sheets of typewriting
paper, a bit of pencil and an envelope, which latter
he had included on the off-chance of its being needed.
Walking a few paces away, Cleek rested
the paper against the wall, scribbled a few hasty
words, sealed them up in the envelope, and then handed
it over to Hamer.
“Here, take this thing to Miss
Lorne. You’ll find her in the drawing-room,”
he said, as he threw the remaining sheets which he
had employed as a sort of writing pad upon one of
the hall chairs. “You can attend to that
litter afterward. Move sharp!”
He turned as he spoke, as if to go
upstairs again, but the very instant Hamer had disappeared
he went fleetly back to the chair, caught up one of
the sheets of paper, folded it carefully, slid it into
his pocket, and passing swiftly and soundlessly down
the hall, opened the door and went out again into
the night.
Hitherto all had been speculation,
theory, guesswork, not irrefutable facts; hitherto
all clues had been mere possibilities, never actual
certainties. Now
The curious smile travelled up his
cheek, slipped down again, and left his face as hard
and as colourless as a mask of stone. He turned
as he rounded the angle of the house and glanced back
to where the windows of the dining-room cut two luminous
rectangles in the fragrant, flower-scented darkness;
then his eye travelled farther on, and dwelt a moment
on the chinks of light that arrowed out from the curtained
bay of the library.
“Poor old chap! Poor, dear
old chap!” he said between shut teeth.
The tightly woven fabric of last night’s
mystery had started to unravel. In one little
corner a flaw had suddenly sprung into existence, and
to-night the first loosened thread was in this man’s
hands.
He set his back to the lighted windows
and forged on through the darkness until the swerving
path brought him to the little summerhouse where,
earlier, he had first met Ailsa, and stepping in, threw
himself into a rustic seat and bent forward with his
elbows upon his knees and his face between his hands:
a grim and silent figure in the loneliness and the
darkness.
Five minutes passed six,
seven and found him still sitting there,
still communing with his own thoughts, though it was
now nearing ten o’clock, and he had told Dollops
to be at the wall angle to meet him at nine.
But suddenly his attitude changed; his hands dropped,
his head jerked upward, as a sleeping cat’s
does when it hears a gnawing mouse, and he was on
his feet, alert, eager, all alive, in a twinkling.
Half a minute later Miss Lorne stepped from the grass
on to the gravel and found him waiting for her in
the arch of the summerhouse doorway.
“It is you at last, then, is
it?” he said, reaching out to her through the
darkness. “Take my hand and I will guide
you if you cannot see the way clearly. I can’t
risk striking a match.”
“It isn’t necessary; I
know the way quite well,” she answered; but she
took his hand all the same. “I hope I haven’t
kept you waiting; I came as quickly as I could.
Mrs. Raynor had fallen asleep over her novel while
we were waiting for you and her son to finish your
cigars and join us in the drawing-room, but Hamer
coming in with your note awoke her and I could not
get away so quickly as I desired.”
“Was Mrs. Raynor interested
in the note, then? Did she show any desire to
hear what it was about?” he questioned eagerly.
“Oh, no. She” colouring
under cover of the darkness “she merely
laughed, and said that it was no more than she should
have expected, but she kept me talking so long that
I nearly lost all patience, and your note did puzzle
me, Mr. Cleek. Why was it so important that you
should see me at once without Kathie knowing?
Have you discovered anything fresh?”
“Such strange things indeed
have happened, Miss Lorne, since this evening,”
he returned quietly, “that I think I shall need
your help in getting to the bottom of them. For
one thing, it is now absolutely certain that the murderer
of the Common keeper came into these grounds last
night after he had committed the crime, and that when
he gave Narkom and his men the slip the fellow came
directly to this place unseen.”
“Mr. Cleek!”
“Sh-h-h! Not so loud,
please. And don’t shake like that.
Steady yourself, for there is something yet more startling
to come. There is now positive proof, Miss Lorne,
that Lady Katharine Fordham did leave this house last
night and go to Gleer Cottage.”
“I won’t believe it!”
she flung out loyally. But she had scarcely more
than said it when his next words cut the ground from
beneath her.
“A witness has turned up,”
he said; “a witness who saw her there and spoke
to her.”
“A witness? Dear God! Who?”
“Geoffrey Clavering!”
“Geoffrey Clavering? Geoffrey?”
“Yes. He and Lady Katharine
had an interview in the ruin this evening, an interview
which I overheard without either being aware of my
presence. That is what sent Lady Katharine to
bed with a bad headache just before dinner. Geoffrey
Clavering accused her of murdering De Louvisan and
acknowledged that it was he himself who placed the
two lighted candles at the feet of the dead man’s
body.”
She made no cry this time, no single
sound. He knew that she was beyond doing so,
that she was struck to the very heart, and he made
haste to lessen her distress by telling her of Lady
Katharine’s denial and of the whole circumstance
as it happened. Then he told of his own discovery
of the buried clothing, his overhearing the interview,
the manner in which the lovers had parted, and, finally,
of his own act in apprehending young Clavering and
then accepting his parole and sending him off to London
for the night.
“Why did you do that?”
she questioned feebly, and was not satisfied even
when he explained his motive. “I will not
even take his word against Kathie’s, but I could
have told you that he speaks the truth when he says
that his stepmother’s interest in him is so great
it is very likely that she did go out on the Common
to look for him, and for the reason he gave.
If he were her own son she could not think more of
him. She absolutely idolizes him. He is
not dearer to his father than he is to her; and if
he does not return to Clavering Close to-night, be
sure she will have the Common searched from end to
end, and will go half out of her mind when she does
not find him.”
Cleek took his chin between his thumb
and forefinger and squeezed it hard. This was
somewhat of a facer, he was obliged to confess.
“You rather take the wind out
of my sails,” he said reflectively. “If
the boy spoke the truth, if the stepmother really does
care like that, why that eliminates her from the case
altogether, and it isn’t worth while asking
you to take the risk I alluded to in the note.”
“What risk?”
“A very considerable one for
a young lady in your position, should you be seen.
As I do not even know Lady Clavering by sight, I was
going to ask you if you would mind prowling about
the Common in company with me, that, if the lady put
in an appearance, you might be able to identify her
for me. But of course, if it is so very certain
that she will join in the search for the boy, there’s
no necessity for doing such a thing.”
“Pardon me, but I think, Mr.
Cleek, there is more reason than ever,” she
replied, “if only to ease her mind, you know.
You might do that by telling her that Geoff was unexpectedly
called to town and that you were on the way to the
Close to tell them so. I don’t in the least
mind taking the risk, as you call it, under those
circumstances; it would be a charity to do so, for
I know her ladyship, and Sir Philip will worry.
Of course they will not think of worrying yet a while;
it is much too early; and as Geoff came over here
to see Kathie they will think he is remaining for
the evening. But later, when it is past bedtime,
when it is getting on toward twelve o’clock,
they will be half out of their minds with anxiety.
Oh, yes; I’ll go with you willingly, this minute
if you like, in such a cause as that.”
“How loyal you are! What
a woman you are! What a friend!” said Cleek
admiringly. “Shall I tell you something?
I have hope that one of those friends will be wholly
cleared before another day comes; that something may
happen to-night which will make Geoff Clavering the
happiest of men and you and Lady Katharine almost
beside yourselves with joy. No, don’t ask
me what it is just yet a while. I have dreams
and fancies and odd notions like other men sometimes;
and I am a great believer in the theory of Loisette
that a likeness of events acting upon a weary brain
is apt to produce similar results in certain highly
strung natures. But will you walk with me as
far as the angle of the wall on the other side of
the shrubbery, Miss Lorne? Dollops is waiting
there for me. I have something of great importance
for him to do to-night, and I think you will be interested
in it. Will you come? Thank you! This
way then, please, as quietly as you can.”
Taking her hand and keeping always
on the grass and always in the dark, where the shadows
of the trees lay between them and the lighted windows
of the Grange, he led her on to something which even
he had not foreseen and never for a moment guessed.
At the angle of the wall he stopped
and began to whistle softly “Kathleen Mavourneen.”
As upon another occasion, before he had completed
the third bar, the wall door gaped open and flashed
shut again and Dollops was in the dark, tree-crowded
enclosure with him. It was a rather more excited
Dollops than he had expected to find, however, for
Cleek had no more than just begun to apologize for
his lateness when the boy was on him like a pouncing
cat and was cutting into his low-spoken words in a
panting sort of whisper:
“For Gawd’s sake, gov’ner.
Come quick, sir!” he said, as he laid a tense,
nervous grip on Cleek’s arm. “’Nother
door in the wall, sir. Higher up where them mulberry
trees is thickest. Woman prowlin’ round,
gov’ner. Been prowlin’ round this
ten minutes past and been to that door and tried it
three times a’ready. Woman in a pink dress,
sir, and a long dark cloak reachin’ almost to
the ground!”
“Margot!” said Cleek in
an exultant whisper. “Margot at last, by
George!”
Then, for the second time that night,
he received a shock.
“If you mean that French Aparsh
‘skirt’ we run up against in the time of
the Red Crawl, gov’ner,” interposed Dollops,
“you’re backin’ the wrong horse.
It aren’t her aren’t
a bit like her, sir; no fear!”