Elster's Folly, Mrs. Henry Wood [ebook reader with built in dictionary .txt] 📗

A Witness. As To The Death Having

Been Something Worse Than Accident,  Not A Soul In The Place Has Dreamt Of

Such A Thing Except Me."

 

"Except You! What Do You Mean?"

 

Pike Leaned More Over The Hurdles,  So As To Bring His Disreputable Face

Closer To Mr. Gum,  Who Slightly Recoiled As He Caught The Low Whisper.

 

"I Don't Think The Death Was Accidental. I Believe His Lordship Was Just

Put Out Of The Way Quietly."

 

"Heaven Forbid!" Exclaimed The Shocked Clerk. "By Whom? By You?" He

Added,  In His Bewilderment.

 

"No," Returned The Man. "If I'd Done It,  I Shouldn't Talk About It."

 

"What Do You Mean?" Cried Mr. Gum.

 

"I Mean That I Have My Suspicions; And Good Suspicions They Are. Many A

Man Has Been Hung On Less. I Am Not Going To Tell Them; Perhaps Not Ever.

I Shall Wait And Keep My Eyes Open,  And Bring Them,  If I Can,  To

Certainties. Time Enough To Talk Then,  Or Keep Silent,  As Circumstances

May Dictate."

 

"And You Tell Me You Were Not Near The Place At The Time Of The

Accident?"

 

"_I_ Wasn't," Replied Mr. Pike,  With Emphasis.

 

"Who Was?"

 

"That's My Secret. And As I've A Little Matter Of Business On Hand

To-Night,  I Don't Care To Be Further Delayed,  If It's All The Same To

You,  Neighbour. And Instead Of Your Accusing Me Of Prowling About The

Mill Again,  Perhaps You'll Just Give A Thought Occasionally To What I

Have Now Said,  Keeping It To Yourself. I'm Not Afraid Of Your Spreading

It In Calne; For It Might Bring A Hornets' Nest About Your Head,  And

About Some Other Heads That You Wouldn't Like To Injure."

 

With The Last Words Mr. Pike Crossed The Hurdles And Went Off In The

Direction Of Hartledon. It Was A Light Night,  And The Clerk Stood And

Stared After Him. To Say That Jabez Gum In His Astonishment Was Uncertain

Whether He Stood On His Head Or His Heels,  Would Be Saying Little; And

How Much Of These Assertions He Might Believe,  And What Mischief Mr. Pike

Might Be Going After To-Night,  He Knew Not. Drawing A Long Sigh,  Which

Did Not Sound Very Much Like A Sigh Of Relief,  He At Length Turned Off To

Dr. Ashton's,  And The Man Disappeared.

 

We Must Follow Pike. He Went Stealthily Up The Road Past Hartledon,

Keeping In The Shade Of The Hedge,  And Shrinking Into It When He Saw Any

One Coming. Striking Off When He Neared The Mill,  He Approached It

Cautiously,  And Halted Amidst Some Trees,  Whence He Had A View Of The

Mill-Door.

 

He Was Waiting For The Boy,  David Ripper. Fully Convinced By The Lad's

Manner At The Inquest That He Had Not Told All He Knew,  But Was Keeping

Something Back In Fear,  Mr. Pike,  For Reasons Of His Own,  Resolved To

Come At It If He Could. He Knew That The Boy Would Be At Work Later Than

Usual That Night,  Having Been Hindered In The Afternoon.

 

Imagine Yourself Standing With Your Back To The River,  Reader,  And Take A

View Of The Premises As They Face You. The Cottage Is A Square Building,

And Has Four Good Rooms On The Ground Floor. The Miller's Thrifty Wife

Generally Locked All These Rooms Up If She Went Out,  And Carried The Keys

Away In Her Pocket. The Parlour Window Was An Ordinary Sash-Window,  With

Outside Shutters; The Kitchen Window A Small Casement,  Protected By A

Fixed Net-Work Of Strong Wire. No One Could Get In Or Out,  Even When The

Casement Was Open,  Without Tearing This Wire Away,  Which Would Not Be A

Difficult Matter To Accomplish. On The Left Of The Cottage,  But To Your

Right As You Face It,  Stands The Mill,  To Which You Ascend By Steps. It

Communicates Inside With The Upper Floor Of The Cottage,  Which Is Used

As A Store-Room For Corn; And From This Store-Room A Flight Of Stairs

Descends To The Kitchen Below. Another Flight Of Stairs From This

Store-Room Communicated With The Open Passage Leading From The Back-Door

To The Stable. This Is All That Need Be Said: And You May Think It

Superfluous To Have Described It At All: But It Is Not So.

 

The Boy Ripper At Length Came Forth. With A Shuddering Avoidance Of The

Water He Came Tearing Along As One Running From A Ghost,  And Was Darting

Past The Trees,  When He Found Himself Detained By An Arm Of Great

Strength. Mr. Pike Clapped His Other Hand Upon The Boy's Mouth,  Stifling

A Howl Of Terror.

 

"Do You See This,  Rip?" Cried He.

 

Rip Did See It. It Was A Pistol Held Rather Inconveniently Close To The

Boy's Breast. Rip Dearly Loved His Life; But It Nearly Went Out Of Him

Then With Fear.

 

"Now," Said Pike,  "I've Come Up To Know About This Business Of Lord

Hartledon's,  And I Will Know It,  Or Leave You As Dead As He Is. And I'll

Have You Took Up For Murder,  Into The Bargain," He Rather Illogically

Continued,  "As An Accessory To The Fact."

 

David Ripper Was In A State Of Horror; All Idea Of Concealment Gone Out

Of Him. "I Couldn't Help It," He Gasped. "I Couldn't Get Out To Him; I

Was Locked Up In The Mill. Don't Shoot Me."

 

"I'll Spare You On One Condition," Decided Pike. "Disclose The Whole Of

This From First To Last,  And Then We May Part Friends. But Try To Palm

Off One Lie Upon Me,  And I'll Riddle You Through. To Begin With: What

Brought You Locked Up In The Mill?"

 

It Was A Wicked Tale Of A Wicked Young Jail-Bird,  As Mr. Pike (Probably

The Worse Jail-Bird By Far Of The Two) Phrased It. Master Ripper Had

Purposely Caused Himself To Be Locked In The Mill,  His Object Being To

Supply Himself With As Much Corn As He Could Carry About Him For The

Benefit Of His Rabbits And Pigeons And Other Live Stock At Home. He Had

Done It Twice Before,  He Avowed,  In Dread Of The Pistol,  And Had Got Away

Safe Through The Square Hole In The Passage At The Foot Of The Back

Staircase,  Whence He Had Dropped To The Ground. To His Consternation On

This Occasion,  However,  He Had Found The Door At The Foot Of The Stairs

Bolted,  As It Never Had Been Before,  And He Could Not Get To The Passage.

So He Was A Prisoner All The Afternoon,  And Had Exercised His Legs

Between The Store-Room And Kitchen,  Both Of Which Were Open To Him.

 

If Ever A Man Showed Virtuous Indignation At A Sinner's Confession,  Mr.

Pike Showed It Now. "That's How You Were About In The Stubble-Field

Setting Your Traps,  You Young Villain! I Saw The Coroner Look At You. And

Now About Lord Hartledon. What Did You See?"

 

Master Ripper Rubbed The Perspiration From His Face As He Went On With

His Tale. Pike Listened With All The Ears He Possessed And Said Not A

Word,  Beyond Sundry Rough Exclamations,  Until The Tale Was Done.

 

"You Awful Young Dog! You Saw All That From The Kitchen-Window,  And Never

Tried To Get Out Of It!"

 

"I _Couldn't_ Get Out Of It," Pleaded The Boy. "It's Got A Wire-Net

Before It,  And I Couldn't Break That."

 

"You Are Strong Enough To Break It Ten Times Over," Retorted Pike.

 

"But Then Master Would Ha' Known I'd Been In The Mill!" Cried The Boy,  A

Gleam Of Cunning In His Eyes.

 

"Ugh," Grunted Pike. "And You Saw Exactly What You've Told Me?"

 

"I Saw It And Heard The Cries."

 

"Did He See You?"

 

"No; I Was Afeard To Show Myself. When Master Come Home,  The First Thing

He Did Was T' Unlock That There Staircase Door,  And I Got Out Without His

Seeing Me--"

 

"Where Did You Hide The Grain You Were Loaded With?" Demanded Pike.

 

"I'd Emptied It Out Again In The Store-Room," Returned The Boy. "I Told

Master There Were A Loose Skiff Out There,  And He Come Out And Secured

It. Them Harvesters Come Up Next And Got Him Out Of The Water."

 

"Yes,  You Could See Fast Enough What You Were Looking For! Well,  Young

Rip," Continued Mr. Pike,  Consolingly,  "You Stand About As Rich A Chance

Of Being Hanged As Ever You'll Stand In All Your Born Days. If You'd

Jumped Through That Wire You'd Have Saved My Lord,  And He'd Have Made It

Right For You With Old Floyd. I'd Advise You To Keep A Silent Tongue In

Your Head,  If You Want To Save Your Neck."

 

"I Was Keeping It,  Till You Come And Made Me Tell With That There

Pistol," Howled The Boy. "You Won't Go And Split On Me?" He Asked,  With

Trembling Lips.

 

"I Won't Split On You About The Grain," Graciously Promised Pike. "It's

No Business Of Mine. As To The Other Matter--Well,  I'll Not Say Anything

About That; At Any Rate,  Yet Awhile. You Keep It A Secret; So Will I."

 

Without Another Word,  Pike Extended His Hand As A Signal That The Culprit

Was At Liberty To Depart; And He Did So As Fast As His Legs Would Carry

Him. Pike Then Returned The Pistol To His Pocket And Took His Way Back To

Calne In A Thoughtful And Particularly Ungenial Mood. There Was A Doubt

Within Him Whether The Boy Had Disclosed The Truth,  Even To Him.

 

Perhaps On No One--With The Exception Of Percival--Did The Death Of Lord

Hartledon Leave Its Effects As It Did On Lady Kirton And Her Daughter

Maude. To The One It Brought Embarrassment; To The Other,  What Seemed

Very Like A Broken Heart. The Countess-Dowager's Tactics Must Change As

By Magic. She Had To Transfer The Affection And Consideration Evinced For

Edward Lord Hartledon To His Brother; And To Do It Easily And Naturally.

She Had To Obliterate From The Mind Of The Latter Her Overbearing Dislike

To Him,  Cause Her Insults To Be Remembered No More. A Difficult Task,

Even For Her,  Wily Woman As She Was.

 

How Was It To Be Done? For Three Long Hours The Night After Lord

Hartledon's Death,  She Lay Awake,  Thinking Out Her Plans; Perhaps For The

First Time In Her Life,  For Obtuse Natures Do Not Lie Awake. The Death

Had Affected Her Only As Regarded Her Own Interests; She Could Feel For

None And Regret None In Her Utter Selfishness. One Was Fallen,  But

Another Had Risen Up. "Le Roi Est Mort: Vive Le Roi!"

 

On The Day Following The Death She Had Sought An Interview With Percival.

Never A Woman Evinced Better Tact Than She. There Was No Violent Change

In Her Manner,  No Apologies For The Past,  Or Display Of Sudden Affection.

She Spoke Quietly And Sensibly Of Passing Topics: The Death,  And What

Could Have Led To It; The Immediate Business On Hand,  Some Of The Changes

It Entailed In The Future. "I'll Stay With You Still,  Percival," She

Said,  "And Look After Things A Bit For You,  As I Have Been Doing For Your

Brother. It Is An Awful Shock,  And We Must All Have Time To Get Over It.

If I Had Only Foreseen This,  How I Might Have Spared My Temper And Poor

Maude's Feelings!"

 

She Looked Out Of The Corner Of Her Eye At The Young Man; But He Betrayed

No Curiosity To Hear More,  And She Went On Unasked.

 

"You Know,  Val,  For A Portionless Girl,  As Maude Is,  It Was A Great Blow

To Me When I Found Her Fixing Her Heart Upon A Younger Son. How Cross And

Unjust It Made Me I Couldn't Conceal: Mothers Are Mothers. I Wanted Her

To Take A Fancy To Hartledon,  Dear Fellow,  And I Suppose She Could Not,

And It Rendered Me Cross; And I Know I Worried Her And Worried My Own

Temper,  Till At Times I Was Not Conscious Of What I Said. Poor Maude! She

Did Not Rebel Openly,  But I Could See Her Struggles. Only A Week Ago,

When Hartledon Was Talking About His Marrying Sometime,  And Hinting That

She Might Care Fox Him If She Tried,  She Scored Her Beautiful Drawing All

Over With Ugly Marks; Ran The Pencil Through It--"

 

"But Why Do You Tell Me This Now?" Asked Val.

 

"Hartledon--Dear Me! I Wonder How Long I Shall Be Getting Accustomed To

Your Name?--There's Only You And Me And Maude Left Now Of The Family,"

Cried The Dowager; "And If I Speak Of Such Things,  It Is In Fulness Of

Heart. And Now About These Letters: Do You Care How They Are Worded?"

 

"I Don't Seem To Care About Anything," Listlessly Answered The Young Man.

"As To The Letters,  I Think I'd Rather Write Them Myself,  Lady Kirton."

 

"Indeed You Shall Not Have Any Trouble Of That Sort To-Day. _I'll_ Write

The Letters,  And You May Indulge Yourself In Doing Nothing."

 

He Yielded In His Unstable Nature. She Spoke Of Business Letters,  And It

Was Better That He Should Write Them; He Wished To