CHAPTER V
A MYSTERIOUS CRIME
"Murder!" The ominous word struck at Bella's heart, in spite of the factthat her dazed brain could scarcely grasp its significance. Withunseeing eyes she stared at her terrified aunt. Mrs. Coppersley, in herusual morning dress, simply made, for domestic purposes, fell back fromthe motionless girl, and gripped the table in the centre of the room.Her face was white, her figure limp; and almost crazy with alarm, shelooked twice her age. Nor did the sight of her niece's bewildered gazereassure her. With a quick indrawn breath of fear, she lurched forwardand again shook the girl.
"Bella! Bella! what's come to you? Don't you hear me? Don't youunderstand, Bella? Jabez is dead! your father has been murdered. He'slying a corpse in his study. And oh--oh--oh!"--Mrs. Coppersley reeledagainst the table again, and showed signs of violent hysteria.
This spectacle brought back Bella with a rush to the necessities of themoment. She sprang to her feet, with every sense alert and ready to beused. Seizing the ewer from the wash-stand, she dashed the water overthe sobbing, terrified woman, then braced herself to consider thesituation.
Bella's thoughts reverted to the events of the previous night.She remembered that Cyril had come to the house and, without asign of recognition had entered. She had not seen him depart,because--because--oh, yes, she had fallen unaccountably asleep. Slumberhad overtaken her at the very moment when she was preparing to descendfrom the window, in order to--to--to----. Bella uttered a wild cry, andthe ebbing blood left her face pearly white. The interview between herfather and Cyril had taken place; she had not been there, and now--andnow----. "What do you say?" she asked her aunt, in a hard, unemotionalvoice.
Mrs. Coppersley, quite unnerved, and drying her scared face with thetowel, gasped and stared. "Didn't you hear? What's come to you, Bella?Your father has been murdered. I got up this morning as usual, and wentinto the study. He's lying there, covered with blood. Oh, who can havekilled him?"
"How should I know?" cried Bella, harshly. "I was locked up in this roomby you, Aunt Rosamund. I fell asleep after--after----" she stopped,aware that she might say something dangerous.
"After what?" asked Mrs. Coppersley, curiously.
"After you left--after I drank the tea. Oh, how could I fall asleep,when--when--ah!" Bella made a bound for the table, and took up the emptycup. Some dregs of tea remained, which she tasted. They had a bitterflavour, and a thought flashed into her mind. "You drugged this tea!"she cried.
Mrs. Coppersley flapped her plump hands feebly, and gasped again. Nevera very strong-minded woman, she was now reduced to a markedly idioticcondition under the strain of the tragic circumstances. "I drug yourtea? Save us, Bella, what do you mean?"
"I drank this tea and fell asleep," said the girl sharply; "althoughbefore drinking it, I did not feel at all sleepy. Now I have adisagreeable taste in my mouth, and my head aches. There is a queerflavour about what is left in the cup. I am sure this tea was drugged.By you?"
"Good Lord!" cried Mrs. Coppersley indignantly. "Why should I drug yourtea, Bella? Your father poured it out himself in the study, when I wasgetting you toast in the kitchen. I told you so last night."
"Yes, yes. I remember." Bella passed her hand across her forehead. "Myfather evidently drugged the tea to keep me quiet. And so he has metwith his death by violence."
"Bella," Mrs. Coppersley screamed, and made for the door, "what do youmean?"
Again the girl felt that she was talking too freely. If Cyril wasimplicated in the crime reported by Mrs. Coppersley, she must saveCyril. Or at least, she must hold her peace until she heard from herlover what had taken place during that fatal interview. It was justpossible that Cyril had slain the captain in self-defence, and knowingher father's violent character, the girl could scarcely blame the youngman. She expected that this would happen, and so had been anxious tointervene as a peacemaker. But the drugged tea--she felt certain that ithad been drugged by her father--had prevented her doing what she wished.Now Huxham was dead, and Lister, whether in self-defence or not, was hismurderer. The thought was agony. Yet in the midst of the terrorengendered by her surmise, Bella found herself blaming her father. If hehad not drugged the tea in order to keep her in her room, this tragedywould not have happened. Captain Huxham had paved the way to his owndeath.
But, after all, there might be extenuating circumstances, and perhapsCyril would be able to explain. Meantime she would hold her tongue as tohaving seen him enter the house. But if anyone else had seen him? Sheturned to Mrs. Coppersley. "Where were you last night?" she demanded,suspiciously.
"I was with Henry Vand from seven until after ten," said the womanmeekly, and evidently unaware why the leading question had been put. "Ileft your father in his study, and when I returned I let myself in bythe back door and went to bed quietly. You know, Jabez always objectedto my seeing Henry, so I wished to avoid trouble. This morning, when Iwent into the--ugh! ugh! come and see for yourself!" and Mrs. Coppersleygripped Bella's wrist to draw her towards the door--"It's murder androbbery!"
Bella released her wrist with a sudden jerk, but followed the elderwoman down the stairs. "Robbery! What do you mean?"
"Come and see!" said Mrs. Coppersley hysterically. "We must send for thepolice, I suppose. Oh, my poor nerves! Never, never shall I get overthis shock, disagreeable as Jabez always was to me. And he wasn't readyfor heaven, either; though perhaps he did send for Mr. Pence to talkreligion to him."
"Did my father send for Mr. Pence?"
"Yes. He asked me to go to the village with a note for Mr. Pence. Icould not find Mr. Pence at home, so left the note for him. Then I metHenry, and returned, as I told you, after ten o'clock."
"Did Mr. Pence come to see my father?" asked Bella anxiously. She waswondering if the preacher had by any chance seen Cyril enter the house.
"I don't know--I can't say--oh, dear me, how dreadful it all is!"maundered Mrs. Coppersley, opening the door of the study. "Just look foryourself, Bella. Your father lies dead in his blood. Oh, how I hope thatthe villain who killed and robbed him will be hanged and drawn andquartered! That I do, the wretch, the viper, the beast! I must get somerum. I can't stay in this room without some rum. I shall faint, I know Ishall. What's the time? Seven o'clock. Oh, dear me, so late! I must sendTunks for the police. He has to be here to see your father, and oh, dearme, he can't see your father unless he goes to heaven, where I'm sure Ihope Jabez has gone. But one never knows, and he certainly was mostdisagreeable to me. Oh, how ill I am! oh, how very, very bad I feel!"and thus lamenting Mrs. Coppersley drifted out of the room, towards theback part of the premises, leaving Bella alone with the dead man.
And Captain Huxham was dead, stone dead. His body lay on the floorbetween the desk and the chair he had been sitting on. From the positionof the corpse, Bella judged that her father had suddenly risen to meetthe descending weapon, which had pierced his heart. But not being ableto defend himself, he had fallen dead at his murderer's feet. With acautious remembrance that she must not remove anything until the policecame, Bella knelt and examined the body carefully, but without laying afinger on the same. The clothes over the heart had been pierced by someextremely sharp instrument, which had penetrated even through the thickpea-jacket worn by the dead man. There was blood on the cloth and on thefloor, and although ignorant of medical knowledge, Bella judged thatdeath must have been almost instantaneous. Otherwise there would havebeen signs of a struggle, as Captain Huxham would not have submittedtamely to death. But the casement was fast closed, the furniture wasquite orderly. At least, Bella judged so when she first looked round,for no chairs were upset; but on a second glance she became aware thatthe drawers of the desk were open, that the flexible lid of the desk wasup, and that the pigeon-holes had been emptied of their papers.Also--and it was this which startled her most--the green-painted safewas unlocked, and through the door, which stood ajar, she could see thatthe papers therein were likewise in disorder. In fact, some of them werelying on the floor.
Strongly agit
ated, Bella constructed a theory of the murder, and saw, asin a vision--perhaps wrongfully--what had taken place. The captain hadcome to his desk for some purpose, but hearing a noise, or perhapssuspecting that there was danger, had unexpectedly turned, only to bestabbed. When he fell dead, the criminal took the keys of the safe fromthe dead man's pocket, and committed the robbery. Then he examined thepigeon-holes of the desk, and afterwards departed--probably by the frontdoor, since the casement was closed. Robbery, undoubtedly, was themotive for the commission of the crime.
The girl rose to her feet, drawing a long breath of relief. Cyrilcertainly could not have slain her father, since Cyril would not haverobbed. The young man assuredly had come to the house--she could swearto that herself--and if he had quarrelled with Huxham, he might havestruck him in a moment of anger. But there was no reason to believe thatCyril would rob the safe. Hence there must be another person, who hadcommitted both the murder and the robbery. Who was that person?
Mrs. Coppersley had stated plainly that Huxham had sent a message toPence, asking him to call. Perhaps he had obeyed the summons, afterCyril left, and then had murdered the captain. But there was no motivefor so timid and good-living a man as the preacher to slay and rob. Sofar as Bella knew, Pence did not want money, and--since he wished tomake her his wife--it was imperative that Huxham should live in order toforward his aims. And it was at this point that the girl recalled, witha shudder, the fact that Cyril had confessed his need for one thousandpounds. Could Lister be the culprit, after all?
"No," cried Bella aloud, and in an agony of shame; "the man I love couldnot be guilty of so vile an act." So she tried to comfort herself, butthe fact of Cyril's visit to the house still lingered in her mind.
Shortly Mrs. Coppersley returned with Tunks at her heels. The handy-manof Bleacres was a medium-sized individual, with a swarthy skin and beadyblack eyes peering from under tangled black hair. Lean and lithe, andquick in his movements, he betrayed his gypsy blood immediately, to themost unobservant, for there was something Oriental in his appearance.Just now he looked considerably scared, and came no further than thedoor of the room.
"There's your master," said Mrs. Coppersley, pointing to the dead, "sojust you go to the village and tell the policeman to come here. Bella,you have not touched anything, have you?"
Bella shook her head. "I have not even touched the body," she confessedwith a shudder. "Tunks, were you about the house last night?"
"No, miss," said the man, looking more scared than ever. "I went homenigh on seven o'clock, and was with my granny all the evening. I knownothing about this, miss."
"I don't suppose you do," rejoined the girl tartly, "but I thought youmight have seen my father later than Mrs. Coppersley here."
"I left the house last night at the same time as you, ma'am," saidTunks, addressing himself to the housekeeper. "You locked the back doorafter me."
"Yes," acknowledged Mrs. Coppersley promptly, "so you did. That would beat seven, as I came up and saw you, Bella, a few minutes before, withthe tea and toast. You didn't come back, Tunks?"
"No, I didn't," retorted the gypsy sullenly. "You went on to Marshely,and I got back home. I never came near this house again until thismorning. You can ask my granny if I wasn't in bed early last night."
"When did you see your master last?" questioned Bella.
Tunks removed his dingy cap to scratch his untidy locks. "It would beabout six, just before I had my tea. He wanted to reduce my wages, too,and I said I'd give him notice if he did. But I suppose," growled Tunks,with his eyes on the remains, "it's notice in any case now."
"Never you mind bothering about yourself," cried Mrs. Coppersleysharply. "Go to Marshely, and tell the policeman to come here. Bella,"she moved to the door, "let us leave the room and lock the door. Nothingmust be touched until the truth is known."
"Will the truth ever be known?" asked the girl drearily, as she wentinto the hall, and watched her aunt lock the door of the death-room.
"Of course," retorted the elder woman, "one person cannot murder anotherperson without being seen."
"I don't know so much about that, Aunt Rosamund. You and Tunks wereaway, and I was locked in my room, so anyone could enter, and----" sheglanced towards the study door and shuddered.
"Did _you_ see anyone?" asked Mrs. Coppersley quickly.
Bella started. "No," she replied, with unnecessary loudness; "how couldI see anyone when I was drugged?"
"Drugged, miss?" cried Tunks, pricking up his ears.
Mrs. Coppersley turned on the handy-man, and stamped. "How dare youlinger here?" she cried. "You should be half way to the village by thistime. Miss Bella was having wakeful nights, and her father gave her asleeping draught. Off with you," and she drove Tunks out of the frontdoor.
"Why did you tell such a lie?" asked Bella when the man was hurryingdown the path, eager, like all his tribe, to carry bad news.
"A lie! a lie!" Mrs. Coppersley placed her arms akimbo and lookeddefiant. "Why do you call it a lie? You _did_ complain of sleeplessnights, and you did say that the tea, poured out by Jabez, was drugged."
"That is true enough," admitted the girl quietly, "but I merely sleptbadly because of the hot weather, and never asked my father for asleeping----"
"Oh!" interrupted Mrs. Coppersley, tossing her head. "What does itmatter. I can't even say if the tea was drugged."
"I'll learn that soon," replied Bella drily, "for I have locked up thecup containing the dregs of tea. My father no doubt feared lest I shouldrun away with Cyril, and so drugged it."
"The least said the soonest mended, Bella. Say nothing of the druggingat the inquest, as there is no need to blacken your father's character."
"I don't see that anything I could say would blacken my father'scharacter, Aunt Rosamund. Of course, he had no business to drug me, butif I am asked at the inquest I shall tell the truth."
"And so your connection with that Lister person will come out."
Bella turned on her aunt in a fury. "What do I care?" she cried,stamping. "I have a right to marry him if I choose, and I don't care ifall the world knows how I love him. In fact, the whole world soon willknow."
"Well," said Mrs. Coppersley, with an air of washing her hands of theentire affair, "say what you like; but don't blame me if you findyourself in an unpleasant position."
Bella, who was ascending the stairs, turned to answer this last remarkpromptly. "Why should I find myself in an unpleasant position?" shedemanded. "Do you accuse me of murdering father?"
"God forbid! God forbid!" cried Mrs. Coppersley piously and with ashudder, "but you cannot deny that you were alone in the house."
"And locked in my bedroom, as you can testify."
"Oh, I'll say that willingly. But you'd better wash out that cup ofdregs, and say nothing more."
"I have already mentioned the matter in Tunks' hearing, so I mustexplain further if necessary. But I'll say why I believe my father actedso. Your story of sleepless nights will not do for me."
"You'll blacken the memory of the dead," groaned Mrs. Coppersleydismally. "Ah, you never loved your poor father."
"Did you?" asked Bella suddenly.
"In a way I did, and in a way I didn't," said her aunt evasively. "Jabeznever was the brother he should have been to me. But a daughter's nearerthan a sister, and you should have loved him to distraction."
"In spite of the way he behaved to me."
"He had to keep a firm hand over your high spirit."
"Aunt Rosamund," burst out Bella at white heat. "Why do you talk in thissilly way? You know that both to you and to me my father acted like acruel tyrant, and that while he was alive we could do nothing to pleasehim. I don't want to speak ill of the dead, but you know what I say istrue."
"We are none of us perfect," snuffled Mrs. Coppersley, wiping her eyes,"and I daresay Jabez was worse than many others. But I was a good sisterto him, in spite of his horrid ways. I'm sure my life's been spent inlooking after other people: first my mother, then my husband, anda
fterwards Jabez. Now I'll marry Henry Vand, and be happy."
"Don't talk of happiness with that"--Bella pointed downward to thestudy--"in the house. Go and make yourself tidy, aunt, and I'll do thesame. We have a very trying day before us."
"So like Jabez, so very like Jabez," wailed Mrs. Coppersley, while Bellafled up the stairs. "He always brought trouble on everyone. Even as alittle boy, he behaved like the pirate he was. Oh, dear me, how ill Ifeel. Bella! Bella! come down and see me faint. Bella! Bella!"
But the girl did not answer, as she knew that Mrs. Coppersley onlywished to gossip. Going to her own room, she again examined the cup withthe dregs, which she had not locked up, in spite of her saying so toMrs. Coppersley. Undoubtedly, the tea tasted bitter, and she resolved tohave it analysed so as to prove to herself the fact of the drugging. Sheknew perfectly well that her father had attended to the tea himself,evidently to render her helpless in case she meditated flight withCyril. And in dong so, he had indirectly brought about his own death,for had she been awake she could have descended from the window to bepresent at the interview which had ended so fatally. And at thispoint--while she was locking up the cup in a convenient cupboard--Bellabecame aware that she was thinking as though her lover were actuallyguilty of the deed.
Of course he could not be, she decided desperately, even though thingslooked black against him. Lister, honest and frank, would not murder anold man in so treacherous a manner, however he might be goaded intodoing so. And yet she had assuredly seen him enter the house. If shecould only have seen him depart; but the drug had prevented that welcomesight. Pence might have struck the blow, but Pence had no reason to doso, and in fact had every inducement to keep Huxham alive. Bella couldnot read the riddle of the murder. All she knew was that it would benecessary for her to hold her tongue about Lister's unexpected visit tothe Solitary Farm.
"But I shall never be able to marry him after this," she wailed.