The Ashiel Mystery, Mrs. Charles Bryce [e novels to read online .txt] 📗

such a character, Mark would be there to protect

her. She could trust him to know how to deal with the Russian, whose true

nature must now be apparent to him.

 

But Mark, to her astonishment, had not drawn away from Julia with the

repugnance and disgust that were to be expected. Instead, he was looking

at her, strangely, indeed, but almost eagerly.

 

"It was you, then, who moved the body! To think that I never guessed!" he

murmured, half to himself. "If I had known, I might have spared myself

the trouble to--" Then more loudly he reproached his companion.

 

"And you have never said a word to me! Oh, Julia, you didn't trust me."

He shook his head at her mournfully.

 

"Trust you!" she retorted. "Did you trust me? But I would have trusted

you," she added, gazing fondly into his eyes, "if I had dared risk the

punishment that will surely be meted out to me if it is known I have done

You don't know how rigid the rules of our society are. But you

haven't told me yet if you have the list."

 

"Not I," he said. "I never heard of its existence. I suppose that

anonymous letter that came addressed to Uncle Douglas after his death had

something to do with that."

 

"Did a letter come from Paris? They sent them to him from time to time.

It prevented his suspecting me. But you will give me the list if you find

it, won't you? It means everything to me."

 

"Of course I will," he promised. "It is no earthly good to me, so far as

I know. But you, when you were looking for it, did you, among all the

papers you examined, ever come across such a thing as a will?"

 

"No, never," she replied. "Mrs. Clutsam told me it could not be found.

You may be sure, if I had discovered one which did not leave you

everything, I should have destroyed it."

 

"Dear little Julia!" Mark drew her to him and kissed her. "How sweet you

are. There is no one like you!"

 

"Really? Do you really love me, Mark?"

 

"Darling, of course I do."

 

"Will you always? Are you quite, quite sure that I am the one girl in all

the world for you, as you are the one man for me?"

 

"Darling, you are the only one in the world I have ever so much as

looked at."

 

"Would you never, never forget me, or marry anyone else, no matter what

happened?"

 

"Never," he assured her, "never."

 

She sighed contentedly.

 

"What should I do if you forgot me, Mark? I should die. But," she added

in a different tone, "I think I should kill you first!"

 

Mark laughed a little uneasily.

 

"Hush, hush," he said, "you mustn't talk so much about killing. A minute

ago you were talking of killing my poor old uncle. If I took you

seriously what should I think? It is lucky I love you as I do, otherwise

doesn't it occur to you that it might get you into trouble to talk in

this wild way?"

 

"You can take me as seriously as you like," she answered gravely. "I am

serious enough, God knows. But I shouldn't talk about it, even to you, if

I didn't _know_ it was safe. You see, I know you are like me."

 

"Like you? I'm dashed if I am! How do you mean? I am like you?"

 

She looked at him squarely, and nodded.

 

"Yes," she said, "you are like me. You would not hesitate to kill if you

thought it necessary. You think just the same as me on that subject. Only

you have gone farther than I have--yet."

 

"Julia," he cried, "what do you mean?"

 

"I mean that I know all about you, Mark," she replied gravely. "I know

what you think you have kept secret from me. I know it was you who killed

your uncle."

 

With a muffled cry Mark shook himself free, and sprang away from her.

 

"What are you saying?" he whispered hoarsely. "You are mad, girl! But I

won't have such lies uttered, I won't have it, I tell you."

 

With terrified amazement Juliet saw his face change, become ugly,

distorted. But Julia showed no sign of alarm.

 

"Why get so excited?" she asked calmly. "What does it matter? Do you

imagine I would betray you? I, who would sell my soul for you! I know you

did it. It is no use keeping up this pretence of innocence to me, who had

more right to kill him than you. Why shouldn't you kill who you wish? But

don't say you didn't do it. It is foolish. I saw you."

 

"It is a lie. You can't have seen me," Mark declared again, but with less

assurance. "You were in the drawing-room all the time. Lady Ruth and

Maisie Tarver both said so. The drawing-room doesn't even look out on the

garden. There is no room that does, except the library, and you weren't

there then, anyhow."

 

"I didn't see you fire the shot," said Julia, "but I saw you afterwards

when you went to put back your rifle in the gun-room. I told you that

after the first search in the grounds was over, and everyone had gone

up to bed, I slipped out of the house by the door near the gunroom, and

came round to the library to see if Lord Ashiel had carried the list on

him. When I came back, I let myself in quietly by the door which I had

left unbolted, and had just got half-way up the back stairs when I

heard footsteps in the passage below, and crouched down behind the

banisters. I saw you come along the passage, carrying an electric

lantern in one hand and your rifle in the other. I saw you look round

anxiously before opening the gun-room door and going in. When you had

vanished, I hurried on up to my room, for it was not the time or place

to tell you what I had seen, but I left a crack of my door open, and

after rather a long while saw you pass along the passage to your own

room; this time without your gun. I knew, of course, that you had been

cleaning it and putting it away."

 

She spoke with the indifference with which one may refer to a regrettable

but incontrovertible fact, and Mark seemed to feel it useless to deny

what she said.

 

"You had no right to spy on me," he exclaimed angrily when she had done.

 

"Oh, Mark," she cried, dismayed, "I wasn't spying. It was the merest

accident. And I think it's horrid of you to mind my knowing. Why didn't

you tell me all about it before. I might have helped you, I'm sure."

 

But he would have none of her endearments, and threw off the hand she

laid upon his arm with a rough gesture.

 

"Mark, oh, Mark," she wailed, "don't be angry with me! You know I can't

bear it. I can bear anything but that. Don't, don't be angry with me."

 

She had but one thought; it was for him, and he who ran might read it

shining in the depths of her great eyes. After a few minutes of sulking,

Mark relented.

 

"No one could be angry with you for long, Julia," he declared.

 

Instantly she was once more all smiles.

 

"Don't ever be angry with me again," she urged, her hands in his. "And

now that you have forgiven me, tell me all about it. What made you do

such a dreadful thing, Mark? You must have had some good reason, I know.

I never would doubt that."

 

"There's nothing much to tell," he said unwillingly. "I had a good

reason, yes. I must have money. It is for your sake, darling, that I must

get it. I can't marry you without it. I hadn't meant to kill him, if I

could get it without. He was ill, and had left his fortune to me. I

thought I should get it in time, by letting Nature take her course. It

was that or ruin, and I really had to do it for your sake, darling. I

didn't want to hurt the old boy. Why should I? It's not a pleasant thing

to have to do. But I had no choice--there was no other way of getting

enough money, and I simply had to get it. It was his life or mine. You

don't understand. I can't explain. It just had to be done, and there's an

end of it. Everything was going wrong. That girl, that Byrne girl, I

imagined he was going to marry her. You know we all did. That would have

spoilt everything. At first I thought she could be got out of the way,

but she seemed to bear a charmed life."

 

"What?" cried Julia, "did you try to kill her too?"

 

"Why, if anyone had to be got rid of," he admitted defiantly, "it seemed

better to go for a stranger, like her, than for my own uncle. Come, you

must see that, surely! She was nothing to me, and, anyhow, my hand was

forced. It's very hard that I should have been put in such a position.

I'm the last person to do harm to a fly, but one must think of oneself."

 

Since it was no use denying the murder, he seemed to find some sort of

satisfaction in telling Julia of his other crimes. And yet, though he

tried hard to speak with an affectation of indifference, it was plain

that he kept a watchful eye upon his listener, and was ready to fasten

resentfully upon the first sign of horror, or even disapproval. For all

his efforts, the tone of his disclosures was at once swaggering and

suspicious; but he need have had no anxiety as to the spirit in which

they would be received. It was clear that Julia brought to his judgment

no remembrance of ordinary human standards of conduct. To her he was

above such criticisms, as the Immortals might be supposed to be above

the rules that applied to dwellers upon earth. What he did was right in

her eyes, because he did it, and she admired his brutality, as she adored

the rest of him, whole-heartedly, without reservation.

 

"I had a shot at her," he went on, "one day on the moor when she was with

David; but I missed her. It was a rotten shot. I can't think how I came

to do it. Then when she fell into the river--I saw her standing by it as

I came home from stalking.... I had walked on ahead, and where the path

runs along above the waterfall pool I happened to go to the edge and look

over. There she was on a stone right at the edge, by the deepest part. It

looked as if she'd been put there on purpose, and I should have been a

fool to miss such a chance. It's no good going against fate. As a matter

of fact I thought I'd got her sitting this time. I caught up the nearest

piece of rock and dropped it down on her. That was a good shot, though I

say it, but it hit her on the shoulder instead of the head as luck would

have it, which was bad luck for me. However, in she went, and I thought

all was well and lost no time in getting away from the place. If it

hadn't been for that meddling fool Andy!... Well, then, at dinner, Uncle

Douglas came out with the news that she was his daughter, not his

intended, and everything looked worse than ever. Afterwards when she went

to talk to him in the library, and passed through the billiard-room where

I was knocking the balls about and feeling pretty savage, I can tell you,

I happened, by a fluke, to ask her if she knew where David was. She said

he'd gone into the garden.

 

"Then I saw my chance, and it seemed too good to miss. Why should I let

my inheritance be stolen from me? I ran off to the gun-room for a gun. I

meant to take David's rifle, but I found he hadn't cleaned it, so I left

it alone and took mine, as the thing was really too important to risk

using a strange gun unless it was absolutely necessary, and his is a

little shorter in the stock than I like. I nipped back and let myself out

of the passage door into the enclosed garden. It was a black night,

though I knew my way blindfolded about there. But the curtains of the

library were drawn, and I couldn't see between them without stepping on

the flower bed. I knew too much to leave my footmarks all over them, but

I had to get on to