A Secret Inheritance (Volume 3 of 3)

by B. L. Farjeon

  XXI.

  The papers lay before me, and I was still under the spell of the fatalrevelation when the clock struck two. The chiming of the hour awoke meas it were, and my mind became busy with thought of my own concerns.Reginald's doom was pronounced. Never must he and Gabriel Carew'sdaughter be allowed to wed. Death were preferable.

  The house was very still; for hours I had not heard a sound, even thechiming of the clock falling dead upon my ears, so engrossed had Ibeen in the papers I had perused. But now, surely, outside the room Iheard a sound of soft footsteps--very, very soft--as of some onecreeping cautiously along. I do not know why, when I opened the studydoor, I should do so quietly and stealthily, in imitation of thecaution displayed by the person in the passage; but I did so. Themoment, if not propitious, was well timed. As I opened the doorGabriel Carew reached it. He was completely dressed; his eyes wereopen; upon his face was an expression of watchfulness so earnest, sointent, so thorough, that it was clear to me that his mental powerswere on the alert, and were dictating and controlling his movements.In his hand he held a dagger.

  His eyes shone upon me, and had he been awake he could not have failedto recognise me, and would surely have spoken. But he made no sign. Hepaused for scarce an instant, and passed on, brushing my sleeve as hecrossed me. Here before me was the fatal proof of the working of hisunhappy inheritance.

  My first impulse was to follow him, for the dagger in his hand bodeddanger; and I should have done so had it not been for anotheroccurrence almost as startling.

  With a loose morning gown thrown over her, Mrs. Carew glided to myside, and put her hand upon my arm. Her feet were bare, there was adistressful look in her eyes, she was trembling like an aspen. Sopallid was her face and her lips were quivering so convulsively, thatI feared she was about to faint; but an inward strength sustained her.

  "You saw him?" she said.

  "Yes," I answered, and then said "Hush! Draw aside."

  He was returning. The open door of the study, and the lights within,had produced an impression upon him, and were evidently the cause ofhis return. He entered the study, and traversed it, examining everycorner to convince himself that the person upon whom his mind wasintent was not in the room. Satisfied with the result of his search,he left the room slowly and walked onward to the stairs which led tothe front door of the house.

  "I must follow him--I must follow him," murmured Mrs. Carew.

  I restrained her. "You are not in a fit state," I said. "Let me do soin your place."

  "Yes," she said, "it will be best, perhaps. You are a man, and have aman's strength. How can I thank you? Go--quickly, quickly!"

  "A moment," I said, my head inclined from her; I was listening to thesounds of Carew's movements; "he has not yet reached the lower door.There are bolts to draw aside, locks to unfasten, a chain to setloose. What do you fear?"

  "If he and Emilius meet there will be murder done!" She spoke rapidlyand feverishly; it was no time for evasion or disguise. "Since Mr.Carew left you in the study," she said, "he has been greatly excited.The gardener brought us news of Emilius. He has been seen prowlingabout the grounds and examining the doors and windows of the house todiscover a means of entering it when we were asleep."

  "That is not the conduct of an honest man," I said, shaken by theinformation in the opinion I had formed of Emilius.

  To my astonishment she cried, wringing her hands, "He is justified, heis justified! We have been denied to him, and he has come here with afixed purpose, which he is bent upon carrying out."

  "And you wish me to understand that he is justified in so doing?"

  "Yes, I have said it, and it is true. Were you he, you would do as heis doing. Unhappy woman that I am! Do not ask me to explain. There isno time now. Hark! I hear the bolts of the door being drawn aside. Godown quickly, if you are sincere in your wish to serve me. For mysake, for Mildred's, for Reginald's!"

  She was exhausted; she had not strength to utter another word. It maybe that I was not merciful in addressing her after this evidence ofexhaustion and prostration, but I was impelled to speak.

  "I shall be down in time to prevent what you dread. You ask me toserve you for the sake of Mildred and Reginald. My son is all in allto me; he is my life, my happiness, and knowing what I now know I seebefore him nothing but misery. It is this fatherly concern for hissake that urges me to extract a promise from you that you will explainat a more fitting moment the meaning of your words. You will do so?"

  She nodded, and I left her and went down the stairs. Carew had openedthe door, and was peering out. It was a clear night; there was nomoon, but the stars were shining. I was quite close to Carew, but hetook no notice of me; he was not conscious of my presence. Had he leftthe house and closed the front door behind him, he would have beenunable to re-enter it unobserved; the door could not be opened fromthe outside. With singular foresight he stooped and selected a stone,and fixed it at the bottom of the door so that it could not closeitself of its own volition. Having thus secured an entrance, he wentout into the open.

  I followed him at a distance of a few yards, neither adopting specialprecautions to keep concealed, nor taking steps to obtrude myself onhis notice. Had it not been that I was wound up to a pitch of intenseexcitement I might have risked a rude awakening of him, but I wasimpressed by a conviction that there was still something for me tolearn which, were he awake, might be hidden from me. Therefore, Icontented myself with watching his movements. It was a wonder to methat he made no mistakes in the paths he traversed, that he did notstumble or falter. He walked with absolute confidence and precision,avoiding low-hanging branches of trees which would have struck him inthe face had he been unaware of their immediate vicinity. Nothing ofthe kind occurred; there was not the slightest obstruction that he didnot intelligently avoid; he did not once have occasion to retrace hissteps. And yet he was asleep to all intents and purposes but one--thatupon which his mind was fixed. When I saw him two or three timespause, with a slight upraising of the dagger, which he clutched firmlyin his hand, I knew what that purpose was--I knew that, had he seenEmilius, he would have leapt upon him and stabbed him to the heart,and that then, unconscious of the crime, he would have returned to hisbed with an easy conscience. Strange indeed was the double life ofthis man--the life of sweetness, kindness, justice in his wakingmoments, of relentless, cruel purpose while he slept. In alliance withthe proceedings of which I was at that time a witness, came to my mindthe pronouncement of the skilled authorities whom Carew's father hadconsulted--that should the fatal inheritance transmitted to him takeits worst form, the key-note might be found in the affections. It wasdemonstrated now. Emilius, his enemy, had found his way to his home;the safety and happiness of his wife and child were threatened; andhe, prompted by his love for them, was on the watch to guard them,animated by a stern resolve to remove, by an unconscious crime, hisenemy from his path. I thought of the tragic occurrences which hadtaken place in Nerac while he was courting the pure, the innocentmaiden Lauretta, and I was weighed down by the reflection that justicehad erred, and that the innocent had suffered for the guilty. It was aterrible thought, and it was strange that it did not inspire me with ahorror of the man whose footsteps I was following. I felt for himnothing but compassion.

  For quite an hour did Carew remain in the grounds searching for hisfoe without success. To all outward appearance only Carew and I werepresent. He saw no stranger, nor did I. On three occasions, however,he paused close to a copse where the undergrowth, more than man high,was thick. On each occasion he stood in a listening attitude, passinghis left hand over his brow as though he were doubtful and perplexed,and on each occasion he moved away with lingering steps, not entirelyconvinced that he was not leaving danger behind him. The bright bladeof his dagger shone in the light as he stood on the watch; there wassomething of the tiger in his bearing. Short would have been theshrift of his enemy had he made his presence known on any one of theseoccasions. A fierce, sure leap, a thrust, anothe
r and another ifneeded, and all would have been over.

  At length the search was ended, at length Carew was satisfied of thesafety of his beloved ones. He returned slowly to the house.

  Had I been aware of his intention I should have slipped in before him,but I was not conscious of it until he stood by the door, and I adozen yards in his rear. It was too late then for me to attempt toprecede him. He stooped and removed the stone which he had fixed inthe door to keep it free, stood upon the threshold for the briefestspace, confronting me, and, with a sigh of relief, passed in andclosed the door behind him. I heard the key slowly and softly turned,heard the bolts as slowly and softly pushed into their sockets, heardthe chain put up. Then silence.

  What was I to do? There was, within my knowledge, no other way intothe house. To knock and arouse those within would have broughtexposure upon me. There was nothing for me to do but to wait fordaylight. Disconsolately I walked about the grounds, disturbed by thethought that I had left the study open, and the papers I had readloose upon the writing-table. I found myself by the copse at whichCarew had three times paused in doubt, and was startled by the suddenemergence of a man from the undergrowth. By an inspiration I leapt atthe truth.

  "You are Emilius," I said.

  "I am Emilius," was his reply.