CHAPTER VIII
In the previous chapter I described to you how Victor Fensden had fallenin a dead faint just at the moment when the gentlemen were about to goin search of the ladies, in order to reassure them after the terribleshock they had received. Immediately on hearing his friend fall, Godfreyhurried to his assistance, asking Sir Vivian meanwhile to go in searchof brandy. The latter had scarcely left the room, however, before Victoropened his eyes.
"My dear old fellow," said Godfrey, "I am indeed thankful to see thatyou are better. I knew very well that this terrible business had upsetyou more than you were willing to admit. Never mind, it will all be putright in the end. How do you feel now?"
"Much better," Victor replied. "I can not think what it was that causedme to make such an idiot of myself."
At this moment Sir Vivian returned with a glass of brandy and water.Victor sipped a little.
He had not been feeling well of late, he explained, and this shock,coming on the top of certain other worries, had unmanned him altogether.
"This has been a terrible day," said Godfrey, "and a poor welcome foryou to Detwich. Now, perhaps, you would rather rest a little beforejoining the others."
"I think I should prefer to do so," said Victor, and he accordinglyretired to his room, while Sir Vivian and Godfrey went on to explainmatters as best they could to the ladies, who were in the dining-room,awaiting their return with such patience as they could command.
"My dear boy," said Mrs. Henderson, hastening forward to greet Godfreyas he entered the room, "you must know how we all feel for you. This hasbeen a terrible experience. Have you been able to arrive at anyunderstanding of it?"
"I think I can," said Godfrey, who dreaded another explanation. "It willbe time enough, however, for me to explain later on. It is sufficient atpresent to say that a terrible murder has been committed in London, andthat the assassin, knowing that I had endeavoured to be a good friend tohis victim, has played a ghastly practical joke upon me. As you maysuppose, the circumstance has upset me terribly; and when I tell youthat you will make me happier if you will spare me further conversationupon the subject for the present, I am sure you will do so."
"I think it would be better," said Sir Vivian. "We have placed thematter in the hands of the police, and I am sure that Griffin will doall that lies in his power to prevent Godfrey from being unduly worriedby the affair."
Godfrey felt a small hand steal into his.
"I am so sorry for you," whispered Molly.
The touch of her soft warm hand was infinitely soothing to him. It didhim more good than any amount of verbal sympathy.
"But where is Mr. Fensden?" inquired Mrs. Henderson.
"The shock has proved too much for him," Sir Vivian explained. "Heinformed Godfrey that he would prefer to go to his room to rest for awhile. I have never met your friend before, Godfrey, but I should saythat he is not very strong."
"I am afraid he is not," the other replied, and the subject dropped.
A quarter of an hour later Sir Vivian announced his intention ofreturning home, and when his carriage had come round, took Godfrey onone side.
"Keep up a stout heart, my boy," he said. "The man who committed thecrime will certainly be captured before very long, and then the poorgirl will be avenged."
Then the kindly old gentleman drove away. When he had seen him depart,Godfrey went into the house and made his way upstairs to inquire afterFensden's welfare. Somewhat to his surprise, he found him apparentlyquite himself once more.
"I can not think what made me behave in that foolish fashion," saidVictor, as he rose from the sofa on which he had been lying. "I am notgiven to fainting fits. Forgive me, old fellow, won't you?"
"There is nothing to forgive," said Godfrey.
As he spoke the dressing gong sounded, and after having asked Fensdenwhether he would prefer to come down, or to have his meal sent to him,and having received an answer to the first in the affirmative, Godfreyleft him, and proceeded along the passage to his own room. When hereached it he passed to the further end and stood before the originalsketch of his famous picture, "A Woman of the People." It was only amere study, roughly worked out; but whatever else it may have been, itwas at least a good likeness of the hapless Teresina.
"And to think that that beautiful face is now cold in death," he said tohimself, "and that the brute who murdered her is still at large. Godgrant that it may be in my power to bring him to justice!"
Before he dressed, he sat down at his writing-table and composed aletter to the coroner, informing him of all he knew of the case, andpromising him that he would be present at the inquest in order to giveany evidence that might be in his power to supply. It was only when hehad finished the letter and sealed it that he felt that he had done asmall portion of his duty toward the dead. He also wrote to hissolicitor giving him an account of the affair, and telling him that hewould call upon him on Monday, prior to the inquest, in order to discussthe matter with him.
Then he rang for his valet and gave instructions that the letters shouldbe posted without fail that evening. Then he began to dress with a heartas heavy as lead. He remembered how much he had been looking forward tothis dinner ever since the idea had first occurred to him. In his ownmind he had endeavoured to picture the first meal that Victor and hisbetrothed should take together. He had imagined his friend doing hisbest to amuse Molly with his half-cynical, half-burlesque conversation,with Kitty chiming in at intervals with her sharp rejoinders, while heand his mother listened in quiet enjoyment of their raillery. Howdifferent the meal was likely to prove!
His dressing completed, he descended to the drawing-room, where he hadthe good fortune to find Molly alone. It was plain that she had beenthere long enough to read the evening paper, for there was a look ofhorror upon her face as she came forward to meet her lover.
"Godfrey, darling," she said, "I see by this paper that a terriblemurder has been committed in the neighbourhood of the Tottenham CourtRoad, and that the victim was once your model. I can now understand whyit has affected you so much. Those hands were hers, were they not? I seealso that it says that some one, a gentleman in evening dress, was seentalking to her about midnight on the pavement outside her house. Do youthink that that man had anything to do with the crime?"
"I am quite sure he had not," Godfrey answered. "For the simple reasonthat that man happened to be myself."
"Yourself? You, Godfrey?" she inquired, looking up at him with startledeyes. "But that was the night on which we were at the theatre together?"
"Yes, dear, the same night," he answered. "Perhaps it would be better ifI were to tell you the whole story."
"Tell me nothing more than you wish," she said. "I am content to trustyou in everything. If I did not, my love would scarcely be worth having,would it?"
And then he told her of his association with the unhappy woman; told herof Teresina's sorrow, and of his own desire to assist her. Molly's heartwas touched as she listened.
"You were right," she said, "to try and help her, poor girl! If I hadknown, I would have endeavoured to have done something for her for yoursake. Now, unhappily, it is too late. But you must not think too much ofit, Godfrey dear. Try to put it away from you, if only for a time."
At this moment Victor Fensden entered the room. It was plain that he hadrecovered his former spirits. He apologized in an easy fashion for hisweakness of the afternoon, and ascribed it to his recent travels, which,he said, had proved too much for his enfeebled constitution.
"I am not like Godfrey, Miss Devereux," he said. "He seems capable ofbearing any amount of fatigue, plays cricket and football, tennis andgolf, while on a summer's day I sometimes find it impossible even tolift my head."
It was a sad little party that sat down to dinner that evening. Godfreywas in the lowest spirits, and Molly was quiet in consequence. Fensdenwas accepted, on his own showing, for an invalid, Mrs. Henderson wasnaturally of a silent disposition, while Kitty, finding that her effortswere unappreciated, lapsed in
to silence after a time, and thus added tothe general gloom. After dinner there were music and polite conversationin the drawing-room until ten o'clock, followed by a retirement to thebilliard-room for a game at pool. It did not prove a success, however.No one had any heart for the game, and before the first three lives hadbeen lost it was voted failure, and the cues were accordingly replacedin the rack. The memory of two white hands, tightly clinched in despair,rose continually before every eye, and when, at half-past ten, Mrs.Henderson proposed that they should retire for the night, every oneaccepted the situation with a feeling that was very near akin to relief.
The next day was scarcely better. For the first time since he had beenmaster of the house Godfrey rose early on a Sunday morning, and, havingordered his dog-cart, drove into the village. It was scarcely seveno'clock when he reached the police-station to discover that the headconstable had not yet risen from his bed. He waited in the small officewhile the other dressed, finding what consolation he could in a caseabove the chimney-piece in which several sets of manacles weredisplayed. The constable in charge was plainly overwhelmed by thesquire's presence, and to cover his confusion poked the fire almostcontinuously. At last, after what seemed like an hour, Griffin put in anappearance, and with many apologies invited Godfrey to accompany him tohis own private sanctum where breakfast was being laid.
"It's the first time for many a long day that I have overslept myself,sir," he hastened to remark; "but I have been so thinking of this 'erecase that I did not get to sleep until this morning, and I am mortalsorry, sir, that I should have kept you waiting."
"You have communicated with Scotland Yard, of course?" said Godfrey,after the other had finished his apology.
"I telegraphed to them last night, sir, and forwarded my written reportat the same time. The post isn't in yet, sir, but I expect I shall getsome instructions when it comes."
He visibly swelled with importance as he made this remark. He felt thatin having the Squire of Detwich for his ally he could scarcely fail tobe noticed, particularly when the most valuable evidence in the casewould be given by the gentleman in question.
Finding that the man had no further news to give him, Godfrey drovesorrowfully home again, feeling that both his early rising and his visitto the village were alike of no avail. All through the service in thelittle church afterward, despite the fact that Molly worshipped besidehim for the first time, he was ill at ease. Victor had excused himselffrom attending the service on the plea of a bad headache, saying hewould go for a walk instead. When they emerged from the sacred edificeafterward Sir Vivian took his place by Godfrey's side.
"You have heard nothing more, I suppose?" he asked. "Griffin promised tocommunicate with you at once on receipt of any intelligence, did henot?"
"He did," said Godfrey. "But when I saw him at the station this morningthere was nothing to tell. In any case I go up to town to-morrowmorning, when I shall first call upon my own solicitor, to whom I havealready written, and afterward attend the inquest as I have promised.Fensden says he's coming up, too, in order that any evidence he may haveto give may be accepted."
"One moment, Godfrey," said the old gentleman, stopping him and allowingthe others to go on ahead. "I am going to put a question to you whichmay probably offend you. But whether it does or does not, it must beasked."
"Anything you ask me, sir, you may be sure will not offend me," saidGodfrey. "What is this particular question?"
"I want to know how long you have known your friend?" the old maninquired. "You see I am going to be perfectly candid with you. You maythink me absurd when I say so, but I have come to the conclusion thatMr. Fensden does not like you."
"In that case, sir, I am sure you are mistaken," said Godfrey. "Victorand I were at school together, and we have been companions ever since.He may be a little cynical in his humour, and inclined to be affected inhis dress and speech, but, believe me, in his inmost heart he is athoroughly good fellow."
Sir Vivian was silent for a moment.
"If that is so," he went on, "then I am wrong in my conclusions. I mustconfess, however, that I was not favourably impressed with Mr. Fensdenyesterday. I noticed that when he was looking at you and you were notwatching him, there was a curious expression upon his face that waseither one of malice or something very like it. If I were asked myopinion about this affair I should say that he knew more about it thanyou and I put together, and more than he either cares, or is going, totell."
"I can not help disagreeing with you, sir," said Godfrey, warming indefence of his friend. "I happen to know that Victor has not seenTeresina since the day we left England. It was he who induced me to getrid of her because he was afraid that she, being a pretty woman, mightpossibly induce me to fall in love with her. You see, I am quite candidwith you."
"I am glad that you are," the other rejoined. "Nevertheless obstinacy isproverbially an old man's failing, and I still adhere to my opinionconcerning the gentleman in question. Whether I am right or wrong timewill prove. In the meantime you say that you go up to town to-morrowmorning."
"Yes, to-morrow morning, first thing," said Godfrey. "We shall leaveDetwich by the 10.18."
"In that case I am going to ask a favour of you," said the other. "Willyou allow me to accompany you? Remember that, as you are going to marrymy daughter, your interests are, and must be, as my own."
"I shall be only too glad if you will come, sir," said Godfrey,gratefully. "It is a kindness I did not like to ask of you. I am sure itwill make Molly happier to know that you are with me, while it willprove to the world, if such a proof is needed, that you believe myinterest in this miserable affair to be only what I have stated it tobe."
"We all believe that, Godfrey, of course," Sir Vivian replied. "The manwho thinks otherwise would be insane. And now we turn off here. It isagreed, therefore, that we meet at the railway station to-morrow morningand go up to town together?"
"With all my heart, sir," Godfrey replied, and then the kindly oldgentleman turned off with his wife at the path that led across thefields to the court. When they were out of sight Godfrey informed Mollyof her father's decision.
"With father and Mr. Fensden beside you, the newspapers will not dare tohint at anything more."
Then for the first time in his life Godfrey felt a vague distrust ofVictor Fensden.
He put the suspicion from him, however, as being not only dishonourableto his friend, but also to himself.
"I have known Victor for a good many years," he muttered, "and I shouldsurely be familiar with his character by this time."
Yet, despite his resolve to think no ill of the man, he felt that theidea was gaining ground with him.
When they reached the house they found Fensden in the drawing-room,comfortably ensconced in a large chair before a roaring fire. He hadchanged his mind, he asserted, and had not gone for a walk after all. Hecertainly did not look well. His face was paler than usual, while he washollow-eyed, as if from want of sleep. As the party, radiant after theirwalk through the sharp air, entered the room, he looked up at them.
"How nice it must be to be so energetic," he said, languidly. "Godfreylooks disgustingly fit, and more like the ideal country squire thanever. You should paint your own portrait in that capacity."
This time there was no mistaking the sneer. It may have been thethoughts that had occupied his brain as he walked home, but even _he_could not help coming to the conclusion that the man he had known for solong, whom he had trusted so implicitly, and for whom he had done somuch, was no longer well disposed toward himself. He said nothing,however, for Victor was not only his guest, but he had troubles enoughof his own just then to look after, without adding to the number. Mollyhad noticed it also, and commented on it when she and her lover werealone together.
"Never mind, dear," said Godfrey. "It doesn't matter very much if hehas taken a dislike to me. I think the truth of the matter is he is notquite himself. Though he will not show it, I have an idea he is as muchcut up by this terrible business as I am myself.
He is very highlystrung, and the shock has doubtless proved too much for his nerves. Youwon't see very much more of him, for he will bring his visit to a closeto-morrow morning, as he has decided to go abroad again immediatelyafter the inquest."
"But I thought he was tired of travelling, and that he had stated hisdesire never to see a foreign hotel again?"
"I thought so too, but it appears we were mistaken. However, do not letus talk about him just now. Can you realize, dearest, that in ten days'time we are to be married?"
"I am beginning to realize it," she answered. "But this terrible affairhas thrown such a shadow over our happiness for the last twenty-fourhours that I have thought of little else."
"The shadow will soon pass," he answered. "Then we will go to the sunnySouth and try to forget all about it."
In his own heart he knew that this was likely to be easier said thandone. Ever since he had seen it on that memorable Thursday night,Teresina's piteous face had been before him, and now with therecollection of what had followed so close upon their interview todeepen the impression, it was more than likely that some time wouldelapse before he would be able to forget it.
That night, when he went to bed, he found it difficult to get to sleep.It was as if the events of the morrow were casting their shadows before,and when he did sleep he was assailed with the most villainous dreams.He saw himself in a garret room with Teresina kneeling before himholding up her hands in piteous entreaty; then he saw her lying deadupon the floor, her glassy eyes looking up at him as if in mutereproach. A moment later he was sitting up in bed staring at VictorFensden, who was standing beside him, holding a candle in his hand, andwith a look upon his face that showed he was almost beside himself withterror.
"Good Heavens, man, what is the matter?" cried Godfrey, for the other'sface frightened him. It was as white as paper, while in his eyes thereshone a light that was scarcely that of reason.
"Let me stay with you, let me stay with you!" he cried. "If I am leftalone I don't know what I shall do. I have had such dreams to-night thatI dare not even close my eyes. For God's sake give me brandy! I musthave something to bring back my courage. Look, look! Can't you see, man,how badly I need it?"
Needless to say, Godfrey saw this. Accordingly bidding him remain wherehe was, he went off to procure some. When he returned he found Victorseated on the settee at the foot of the bed. Apparently he had recoveredhis self-command.
"I am afraid you must think me an awful fool, Godfrey," he said. "But Ihave really had a deuce of a fright. You don't know what awful dreams Ihad. I could not have stayed alone in that room another minute."
It must indeed have been a fright, for Godfrey noticed that, though hepretended to have recovered, he was still trembling.
"Well, I am glad to see that you are feeling better," he said. "Drinksome of this, it will make a new man of you."
"If it could do that I'd drink a hogshead," he said bitterly. "Ifthere's one man in this world of whose society I am heartily sick, it isVictor Fensden. Now I'll go back to my own room. Forgive me fordisturbing you, won't you, but I could not help myself."
So saying, he took up his candle once more and returned to his own room,leaving Godfrey to put what construction he thought best upon theincident.
"I am beginning to think that poor Victor is not quite right in hishead," said the latter to himself as he blew out his candle and composedhimself for slumber once more.