CHAPTER XIV
THE CAUSE OF THE INTERRUPTION
What she saw, and what they saw, spoke eloquently of the engrossedattention with which they had watched the work of destruction beingcarried on. So absorbed had they been in Bruce Graham's proceedingsthat, actually without their knowledge, a burglarious entry had beenall but effected into the very room in which they were.
There was the proof before them.
The window had been raised, the blind and curtains pushed away, and aman's head and shoulders thrust inside.
When Ella's exclamation called their attention to the intruder'spresence, they stared at him, as well they might, for a moment or twowith stupefied amazement; the impudence of the act seemed almost tosurpass the bounds of credibility. He, on his part, met their gazewith a degree of fortitude, not to say assurance, which was more thana little surprising.
To the fellow's character his looks bore evidence. The buttoning ofhis coat up to his chin failed to conceal the fact that his neck wasbare, while the crushing of a dilapidated billycock down over hiseyes served to throw into clearer relief his unshaven cheeks andhungry-looking eyes.
For the space of perhaps thirty seconds they looked at him, and he atthem, in silence. Then Jack moved hastily forward.
"You're a cool hand!" he cried.
But Madge caught him by the arm.
"Don't!" she said. "This is the man who stared through the window."
Jack turned to her, bewildered.
"The man who stared through the window? What on earth do you mean?"
"Don't!" she repeated. "I think that Mr. Graham knows this man."
The man himself endorsed her supposition.
"Yes, I'm rather inclined to think that Mr. Graham does."
His voice was not a disagreeable one; not at all the sort of voicewhich one would have expected from a person of his appearance. Hespoke, too, like an educated man, with, however, a strenuous somethingin his tone which suggested, in some occult fashion, the bitterness ofa wild despair.
Seeing that he remained unanswered, he spoke again.
"What's more, if there is a cool hand it's Mr. Graham, it isn't me. Iam a poor, starving, police-ridden devil, being hounded to hell, fullpelt, by a hundred other devils--but, Bruce Graham, what are you?"
They turned to the man who was thus addressed.
At the moment of interruption he had been levering a strip of wainscotfrom its place with the aid of the inserted chisel. He still kept onehand upon the handle, holding the hammer with the other, while he drewhis body back against the wall as close as it would go, and, withpallid cheeks and startled eyes, he stared at the intruder as if hehad been some straggler from the spiritual world. From between hislips, which seemed to tremble, there came a single word--
"Ballingall!"
"Yes, Ballingall! That's my name. And what's yours--cur, hound, thief?By God! there have been people I've used badly enough in my time, butnone worse than you've used me."
"You are mistaken."
"Am I? It looks like it. What are you doing here?"
"You know what I'm doing."
"By God! I do--you're right there. And it's because you know I know,that, although you're twice my size, and have got all therespectability and law of England at your back, you stand thereshivering and shaking, afraid for your life at the sight of me."
"I am not afraid of you. I repeat that you are mistaken."
"And I say you lie--you are afraid of me, penniless, shoeless, hungrybeggar though I am. Your face betrays you; look at him! Isn't therecowardice writ large?"
The man stretched out his arm, pointing to Graham with a dramaticgesture, which certainly did not tend to increase that gentleman'sappearance of ease.
"Do you think I didn't see you the other day, knowing that the timewas due for me to come out of gaol, trying to screw your courage tothe striking point to play the traitor; how at the sight of me theblood turned to water in your veins? Deny it--lie if you can."
"I do not wish to deny it, nor do I propose to lie. I repeat, for thethird time, that in the conclusions you draw you are mistaken. MissBrodie, this is the person of whom I was telling you--CharlesBallingall."
"So you have told them of me, have you? And a pretty yarn you've spun,I bet my boots. Yes, madam, I am Charles Ballingall, lately out ofWandsworth Prison, sent there for committing burglary at this veryplace. My God, yes! this house of haunting memories of a thousandghosts! I only came out the day before yesterday, and that same nightI committed burglary again--here! And now I'm at it for the thirdtime, driven to it--by a ghost! And, my God! he's behind me now."
A sudden curious change took place in the expression of the fellow'scountenance. Partially withdrawing his head, he turned and lookedbehind him--as if constrained to the action against his will. Hisvoice shrank to a hoarse whisper.
"Is that you, Tom Ossington?"
None replied.
Madge moved forward, quite calm, and, in her own peculiar fashion,stately, though she was a little white about the lips, and there wasan odd something in her eyes.
"I think you had better come inside--and, if convenient, pleasemoderate your language."
At the sound of her voice the man turned again, and stared.
"I beg your pardon. Were you speaking to me?"
"I was, and am. Mr. Graham has spoken to me of you, and I am quitecertain that in doing so he has told us nothing but the exact andliteral truth. In the light of what he has said, I know that I amgiving expression to our common feeling in saying that we shall feelobliged to you if you will come in."
The man hesitated, fumbling with his hands, as if nonplussed.
"It's a good many years since I was spoken to like that."
"Possibly it's a good many years since you deserved to be spoken tolike that. As a rule, that sort of speech is addressed to us to whichwe are entitled."
"That's true. By God, it is!"
"I believe I asked you to moderate your language."
"I beg your pardon; but it's a habit--of some standing."
"Then if that is the case, probably the time is come that it shoulddie. Please let it die--if for this occasion only. Must I repeat myinvitation, and press you to enter, in face of the eagerness to effectan entrance which it seems that you have already shown?"
Mr. Ballingall continued to exhibit signs of indecision.
"This isn't a trap, or anything of that kind?"
"I am afraid I hardly understand you. What do you mean by a trap?"
"Well"--his lips were distorted by what was possibly meant for agrin--"it doesn't want much understanding, when you come to think ofit."
"We ask you to come in. If you accept our invitation you will ofcourse be at liberty to go again whenever you please. We certainlyshall make no effort to detain you, for any cause whatever."
"Well, if that's the case, it's a queer start, by----" He seemed aboutto utter his accustomed imprecation; then, catching her eyes,refrained, adding, in a different tone, "I think I will."
He did, passing first one leg over the sill, and then the other. Whenthe whole of his body was in the room he removed his hat, the actioneffecting a distinct improvement in his appearance. The departure ofthe disreputable billycock disclosed the fact that his head was not byany means ill-shaped. One perceived that this had once been anintelligent man, whose intelligence was very far from being altogethera thing of the past. More, it suggested the probability of his havingbeen good-looking. Nor did it need a keen observer to suspect that ifhe was shaven and shorn, combed and groomed, and his rags wereexchanged for decent raiment, that there was still enough of manlinessabout him to render him sufficiently presentable. He was not yet ofthe hopelessly submerged; although just then he could scarcely haveappeared to greater disadvantage. His clothes were the scourings ofthe ragman's bag--ill-fitting, torn, muddy. His boots were odd ones,whose gaping apertures revealed the sockless feet within. In his wholebearing there was that in
definable, furtive something which is thehall-mark of the wretch who hopes for nothing but an opportunity tosnatch the wherewithal to stay the cravings of his belly, and who seesan enemy even in the creature who flings to him a careless dole. Thisatmosphere which was about him, of the outcast and the pariah, washeightened by the obvious fact that, at that very moment, he washungry, hideously hungry. His eyes, now that they were more clearlyseen, were wolfish. In their haste to begin their treasure-huntingthey had not even waited to take away the tea-things. The man'sglances were fastened on the fragments of food which were on thetable, as if it was only by an effort of will that he was able to keephimself from pouncing on them like some famished animal.
Madge perceived the looks of longing.
"We are just going to have supper. You must join us. Then we can talkwhile we are eating. Ella, help me to get it ready. Sit down, Mr.Ballingall, I daresay you are tired--and perhaps you had better closethe window. Ella and I shall not be long."
They made a curious trio, the three men, while the two girls madeready. Ballingall closed the window, with an air half sheepish,half defiant. Then placed himself upon a seat, in bolt uprightfashion, as if doubtful of the chair's solidity. Jack took up aposition in the centre of the hearthrug, so evidently at a loss forsomething appropriate to say as to make his incapacity almostpathetic--apparently the unusual character of the situation had tiedhis tongue into a double knot. Graham's attitude was more complex. Theportion of the wainscot which he had undertaken to displace not havingbeen entirely removed, resuming his unfinished task, he continued towrench the boards from their fastenings as if intentionally obliviousof the new arrival's presence.
Nor was the meal which followed of a familiar type. The resources ofthe larder were not manifold, but all that it contained was placedupon the table. The _piece de resistance_ consisted of six boiledeggs.
"If you boil all those eggs," Ella declared, when Madge laid on them apredatory hand, "there'll be nothing left in the house for breakfast."
"The man is famished," retorted Madge with some inconsequence."What does breakfast matter to us if the man is starving." So the sixwere boiled. And he ate them all. Indeed he ate all there was toeat--devoured would have been the more appropriate word. For heattacked his food with a voracity which it was not nice to witness,bolting it with a complete disregard to rules which suggest theadvisability of preliminary mastication.
It was not until his wolf-like appetite was, at least, somewhatappeased by the consumption of nearly all the food that was on thetable, that Madge approached the subject which was uppermost in alltheir thoughts.
"As I was saying, Mr. Ballingall, Mr. Graham has told us of all thatpassed between you."
At the moment he had a piece of bread in one hand and some cheese inthe other--all the cheese that was left. The satisfaction of hisappetite seemed to have increased his ferocity. Cramming both morselsinto his mouth at once, he turned on her with a sort of half-chokedsnarl.
"Then what right had he to do that?"
"It seems to me that he had a good deal of right."
"How? Who's he? A lawyer out of a job, who comes and offers me hisservices. I'm his client. As his client I give him my confidence.Looking at it from the professional point of view only, what right hashe to pass my confidence on to any one?--any one! He's been guilty ofa dirty and disgraceful action, and he knows it. You know it, you do."He snarled across the board at Graham. "If I were to report him to theLaw Society they'd take him off the rolls."
"I question it."
Madge's tone was dry.
"You may question it--but I know what I'm talking about. What use doeshe make of the confidence which he worms out of me?"
"I wormed nothing out of you." The interruption was Graham's."Whatever you said to me was said spontaneously, without the slightestprompting on my part."
"What difference does that make?--Then what use does he make of what Isaid spontaneously? He knows that I am a poor driven devil, chargedwith a crime which I never committed. I explain to him how it happenedthat that crime comes to be laid against me, how I've been told thatthere's money waiting for me in a certain place, which is mine for thefetching, and how, when I went to fetch it, I was snapped forburglary. I'm found guilty of what I never did, and I get twelvemonths. In this country law and justice are two different things.What does my lawyer--my own lawyer, who pressed on me his services,mind!--do, while I'm in prison for what I never did? He takesadvantage of my confidence, and without a word to me, or a hint of anysort, he goes and looks for my money--my money, mind!--on his ownaccount--and for all I know he's got it in his pocket now."
"That he certainly has not."
This was Madge.
"Then it isn't his fault if he hasn't. Can you think of anythingdirtier? not to speak of more unprofessional? Why one thief wouldn'tbehave to another thief like that--not if he was a touch above thecarrion. Here have I, an innocent man, been rotting in gaol, think,think, thinking of what I'd do with the money when I did come out, andhere was the man who ought to have been above suspicion, and whom Ithought was above suspicion, plotting and planning all the time how hecould rob me of what he very well knew was the only thing which couldsave me from the outer darkness of hell and of despair."
Graham motioned Madge to silence.
"One moment, Miss Brodie. You must not suppose, Mr. Ballingall, thatbecause I suffer you to make your sweeping charges against me withoutinterruption, that I admit their truth, or the justice of the epithetswhich you permit yourself to apply to me. On the contrary, I assertthat your statements are for the most part wholly unjustifiable, andthat where they appear to have some measure of justification, they areeasily capable of complete explanation. Whatever you may continue tosay I shall decline to argue with you here. If you will come to myrooms I will give you every explanation you can possibly desire."
"Yes, I daresay,--and take the earliest opportunity of handing me overto the first convenient copper. Unless I'm mistaken, that's the kindof man you are."
Madge caught the speaker by the sleeve of his ragged coat, with aglance at Graham, whose countenance had grown ominously black.
"If you will take my advice, Mr. Ballingall, since it is plain thatyou know nothing of the mind of man Mr. Graham really is, instead ofcontinuing to talk in that extremely foolish fashion you will listento what I have to say. The night before last we were the victims of anattempted burglary----"
"I did it--you know I did it. I give myself away--if there's anygiving about it. You can whistle for a constable, and give me intocharge right off; I'm willing. Perhaps it'll turn out to be the samebobby I handled before, and then he'll be happier than ever."
"I am sorry to learn that you were the burglar--very sorry. My friend,Miss Duncan, and I were alone in the house, a fact of which you wereprobably aware." That Mr. Ballingall might still be possessed of someremnants of saving grace was suggested by the fact that, at thispoint, he winced. "Other considerations aside, it was hardly a heroicaction to break, at dead of night, into a lonely cottage, whose onlyinmates were a couple of unprotected girls."
"There was a revolver fired."
"As you say, there was a revolver fired--by me, at the ceiling. Doesthat tend to strengthen the evidence which goes to show that the deed,on your part, was a courageous one?"
"I never said that it was."
"You are perfectly conscious that we shall not whistle for apoliceman, and that we shall not give you into charge. Is it necessaryfor you to talk as if you thought we should?"
"Am I to be robbed----"
"I fancy that the robbing has not been all upon one side." Mr.Ballingall did not look happier. "The burglar left behind him a scrapof paper----"
"Oh, I did, did I? I wondered where it was."
"At present it is in the possession of the police."
"The devil!"
"You need not be alarmed." Mr. Ballingall had suddenly risen, as ifdisturbed by some reflection. "That was before we knew by whom we hadbeen favoured. Now
that we do know, the paper will not be used inevidence against you--nor the police either. Before handing over thatscrap of paper we took a copy of the writing which was on it. Thatwriting was a key to two secret hiding-places which are containedwithin this house."
"How do you know that?"
"By exercising a little of my elementary common sense. Observe, Mr.Ballingall." Rising from her seat, she crossed to the door. "On thatpaper which you were so good as to leave behind you it was written,'Right'--I stand on the right of the door. 'Straight across'--I walkstraight across the room. 'Three'--I measure three feet horizontally.'Four'--and four feet perpendicularly. 'Up'--I push the panel up; itopens, and I find that there is something within. That, Mr.Ballingall, is how I know the paper was a guide to two secrethiding-places--by discovering the first. What is the matter with theman? Has he gone mad?"
The question, which was asked with a sudden and striking change oftone, was induced by the singularity of Mr. Ballingall's demeanour. Hehad started when Madge took up her position at the door, eyeing herfollowing evolutions speechlessly, breathlessly, as if spellbound. Herslightest movement seemed to possess for him some curious fascination.As she proceeded, his agitation increased; every nerve seemed strainedso that he might not lose the smallest detail of all that happened,until when, with dramatic gestures, she imitated the action ofstriking the panel, raising it, and taking out something which wascontained within, he broke into cry after cry.
"My God!--my God!--my God!" he repeated, over and over again.
Covering his face with his hands, as if he strove to guard his eyesagainst some terrible vision, he crouched in a sort of heap on thefloor.
Tom Ossington's Ghost Page 14