CHAPTER LIII
A LITTLE LIGHT
Mrs. May, Princess Zara, the brilliant mystery who wielded so great aninfluence over the destiny of the house of Ravenspur, lay on her bedsmiling faintly in the face of Mrs. Gordon Ravenspur, who stoodregarding her with friendly solicitude. Mrs. Gordon had no suspicionswhatever; she would have trusted any one. All the lessons of all theyears had taught her no prudence in that direction. A kind word or anappeal for assistance always disarmed Mrs. Gordon.
"I hope you are comfortable?" she asked.
Mrs. May smiled faintly. She appeared a trifle embarrassed. She wasacting her part beautifully as usual. Her audacity and assurance hadcarried her through great difficulties and she had confidence in thefuture.
"In my body, perfectly," she said. "But I am so uneasy in my mind."
"And you will not have a doctor?"
"Not for worlds. There is nothing the matter with me. I have sufferedlike this before. I have a weak heart, you know, and excitement troublesme thus. But I don't want a doctor."
"Then why should you worry?" Mrs. Gordon asked.
"I am ashamed of myself," the woman confessed with a laugh. "I have beenwondering what you must think about me. This is the second time you havehad to detain me as an involuntary guest under your roof. The first timeI was the victim of idle curiosity; the second time I did try to do youa good turn. I hope you will remember that."
"It was kind and courageous of you," Mrs. Gordon said warmly. "How manypeople would have done as much for strangers! And please do not talkabout it any more or I shall be distressed."
Mrs. May was by no means sorry to change the conversation. A thousandquestions trembled on her lips, but she restrained them. She was burningto know certain things, but the mere mention of such matters might havearoused suspicions in a far simpler mind than that of Mrs. Gordon.
"So long as you are all well it doesn't matter," she said. "Thisafternoon I shall make an effort to get up. Meanwhile, I won't keep youfrom your household duties. Could I see one of those charming girls,Miss Vera or Marion? I have taken such a fancy to them."
"Vera shall come presently; she has gone to the village," Mrs. Gordonexplained. As to Marion she could say nothing.
"Marion has been an enigma to us lately," she explained. "I need nottell you of the dark shadows hanging over this unhappy house, or hownear we have been to the solution of the mystery on more than oneoccasion. And now Marion has an idea, queer child.
"She went out, presumably last night, leaving a note to say she hadreally got on the track at last, and that we were not to worry about hereven if she did not return to-day. So strange of Marion."
Mrs. May had turned her face away. She was fearful lest the other,prattling on in her innocent way, should see the rage and terror anddespair of her features.
"Queer!" she murmured hoarsely. "Did she write to you?"
"No, to my husband's father. Her note was given to me. Even now I don'tknow what to make of it. Would you like to see the letter? You are soclever that you may understand it better than I do."
"I should like to see the letter."
It was an effort almost beyond the speaker's powers to keep her voicesteady. Even then the words sounded in her ears as if they came fromsomebody else. From her pocket Mrs. Gordon produced the letter. Mrs. Mayappeared to regard it languidly.
"If I knew the girl better I could tell you," she said. "It soundssincere. But my head is beginning to ache again."
Mrs. Gordon was all solicitude. She drew down the blinds, and producedeau de Cologne, and fanned the brow of the sufferer after drenching itwith the spirit. Mrs. May smiled languidly but gratefully. At the sametime it was all she could do to keep her hands from clutching the otherby the throat and screaming out that unless she was left alone murderwould be done.
"Now I really can leave you," Mrs. Gordon said.
"It would be the greatest kindness," the invalid murmured gratefully.
The door softly closed; Mrs. May struggled to a sitting position. Hereyes were gleaming, yet a hard despair was on her face. She ought to beup and doing, but her lower limbs refused their office.
"A forgery," she said between her teeth. "Marion never wrote thatletter. If they were not blind they could see that for themselves.Marion has been decoyed away; and, if so, somebody has that key. If Ionly knew. Tchigorsky is dead and Ralph Ravenspur is an idiot. Who,then, is the prime mover in this business?"
The woman did not know, and for the life of her she could not guess.Tchigorsky was out of the way--dead and buried. Ralph Ravenspur andGeoffrey were antagonists not worthy of a second thought. But somebodywas moving and that somebody a skilled and vigorous foe.
For once the arch-conspirator was baffled. The foe had the enormousknowledge of knowing his quarry, while the quarry had not the leastnotion where or how to look for the hunter. And the fish was fast to theline. Unless it got away at once the landing net would be applied; thenthere would be an end of all things.
But she could not move; she could do nothing but lie there gasping inimpotent rage. There was only one person in the world who could help hernow, and that was Marion. And where was Marion? Only the man on theother side of the chess board knew that.
She wished she knew; oh! she wished she knew a score of things. Did thepeople of the castle suspect her? Hardly that, or Mrs. Gordon had notbeen so friendly.
What had become of the coat and glass mask she was wearing at the timethings went wrong in Geoffrey Ravenspur's room? Had her subordinatesheard her cry? Had they fled, or had they been taken? If they had fled,had they removed the instruments with them?
Mrs. May would have given five years of her life for enlightenment onthese vital questions. Even she could not read the past and solve theunseen.
Tears of impotent rage and fury rose to her eyes. While she was lyingthere wasting the diamond minutes the foe was at work. At any time thatfoe might come down with the most overwhelming proofs and crush her.Marion had been spirited away. Why? So that the key of the safe might bestolen and used to advantage.
Once more the woman tried to raise herself from the bed. It was useless.She slipped the bed-clothes into her mouth to stifle the cries that roseto her lips. She was huddled under them when the door opened and Verastepped in.
"Did you call out?" she asked. "I was passing your door and fancied Iheard a cry. Are you still suffering from a headache?"
Mrs. May's first impulse was to order the girl away. Then an idea cameto her.
"The headache is gone," she said sweetly. "It was just a twinge ofneuralgia. I wonder if you would do me a favor."
"Certainly."
"Then I wish you would get me some paper and envelopes. I have a note towrite. There is a child in the village I am fond of. She comes and sitsin the tangle at the bottom of the Jessops' garden and talks to me. I amafraid she thinks more of my chocolates than me, but that is a detail."
"You want to write the child a note. How sweet of you!"
"Oh, no," Mrs. May said. She was going to embark on a dangerous effortand was not quite certain as yet. But desperate diseases requiredesperate remedies. "It is nothing. And I don't want anybody to know."
"I am sure you can trust to me."
"Of course I can, my dear child. And I will. Please get me thematerials."
Vera brought the paper and essentials. With a smile on her face Mrs. Maywrote the letter. Inside the envelope she placed something she had takenfrom the bosom of her dress.
"A cake of chocolate," she explained smilingly. "See, I do not addressthe envelope, but place on it this funny sign that looks like anintoxicated problem in Euclid. The child will understand. And now I amgoing to ask you to do me a favor. Will you please take the letterwithout letting anybody know what you are doing, and put it at the footof the big elder in the tangle? I dare say it sounds very stupid of me,but I don't want the child to be disappointed."
Vera professed herself ready and also to be charmed with the idea. Shewould go at once, she sa
id, and Mrs. May raised no obstacle. At the endof the corridor Vera was confronted with her uncle Ralph. He held outhis hand.
"I was listening," he said. "I knew beyond all doubt that something ofthe kind would be attempted. I want that letter."
"But uncle, I promised----"
"It matters nothing what you promised. It is of vital importance thatthe inside of that letter should be seen. Chocolate for a child, indeed.Death to us all, rather. You are going to give me that letter and I amgoing to open it. Afterwards it shall be sealed again, and you shallconvey it to its destination. The letter!"
Dazed and bewildered, Vera handed it to him. It was not a nice thing todo, but, then, nice methods were not for Mrs. May. Ralph grasped theletter and made off towards his room.
"Wait here," he said. "I shall not be a few minutes. I am merely goingto steam that envelope open and master the contents. Don't go away."
Vera nodded. She was too astonished for words; not that she feltcompunction any longer. Presently Ralph returned.
"There you are, my child," he said. "If I seemed harsh to you, forgiveme. It is no time for courtesies. You can take the letter now anddeliver it. It has been a good and great discovery for us."