The Heath Hover Mystery
Page 8
and they would hardly be able to get back to Clancehurst. TheInspector jumped to his feet.
"Heavens!" he ejaculated, going to the window. "Why, this'll cover upall and any footprints there may be to find beyond where we left off."
"Shouldn't wonder if it did. Well, it can't be helped," said Mervyncoolly. He had by now quite got behind the policeman's suspicions, andwas taking rather a half-hearted delight in teasing that worthy. "Haveanother whisky and soda, inspector?"
"Thanks, no. I'll go and take up the track where we left it."
"If you'll take my advice you won't," said Mervyn. "In fact you'll getback to Clancehurst as soon as possible, and come back here when all'sclear again. Why, you've seen how even a moderate snowdrift can pileup. If you get caught in the middle of this deluge of it, right out inthe thick of the woods, why I shouldn't wonder if you're as stiff as ourpoor friend there, before many hours are gone. What do you say,doctor?"
"What do I say? Why that I can't afford to get snowed up right away inthe country for days. What price my practice? So if it's all the sameto you, Mr Mervyn, I'll ask you to have my cart hitched up and startbefore it gets worse."
Nashby had not waited to hear this decision. He had gone outside to seeif it really was impracticable to pursue the search. But even before hehad reached the top of the path which led to the sluice, the rush of theblinding cold flakes into his eyes drove him back.
"No, it'd be quite useless," he said, by no means pleased. "Couldn't doanything in the teeth of this. But it won't be dead against us goingback, rather behind us, that's one thing."
So they started, the inspector very dissatisfied and very suspicious.He questioned the doctor all the way along the road, under difficultiescertainly, because of the blinding sheets of snow which drove in uponthem, rendering breathing--let alone conversation--difficult--as toMervyn, his circumstances and his antecedents--above all, hisantecedents. But on this point the doctor was able to give noinformation--only that he knew no more on the subject than did hisquestioner.
And Mervyn was left alone with the dead, in solitary, haunted HeathHover--yet not quite alone, for the police constable was left too; andperhaps he was not sorry for the man's companionship. For the snowwhirled down in masses for the best part of the night, blocking the roadin huge drifts, and the wind howled dirgefully round the gables of thehouse, where lay the living and the man who had come there to meet hisstrange, mysterious death.
CHAPTER SIX.
"THE KEY OF THE STREET."
"For the third and last time, I say--will you hand me that letter orwill you not?"
"No, I will not." And the speaker's lips tightened, and her blue eyesmet the angry red brown ones calm and full, and the coronal of goldenhair shone upon a very erect head indeed.
The parties to this dialogue were a girl and a woman, the lattermiddle-aged, not to say elderly. She had a hooked, commandeering noseand a hard mouth turning down at the corners. Now they were turningdown very much indeed. It may be hardly necessary to explain that thesetwo occupied the position of employer and employed.
"Now mark my words, Miss Seward," went on the first speaker, fastgetting into the tremulous stage of white anger. "I'll give you justone more chance, and only one. Hand me over that letter, or--out of myhouse you go. Without references mind--and this very day at that.Now--take your choice."
There was some excuse for the irritation displayed by the older woman,in that she had surprised the other in the act of reading a letter--afairly closely written one too, and that in the handwriting of her onlyson, a young subaltern not long gazetted, and only recently gone out toIndia. She had suspected something between them prior to his departure;and this girl was a mere paid teacher of French and music to her owntwo--then in the "flapper" stage. As a matter of fact there had been,but it was all on one side--on that of the boy.
"There's really nothing in it," was the answer, "I didn't want him towrite to me, and told him so more than once. But as he has, well Ican't show private correspondence to a third person, even though it bethe correspondent's mother."
In hard reality the speaker was more than half inclined to comply--moreto put an end to the whole bother than anything. But there were twoobstacles in the way of such a safe and easy course; first her ownpride, of which she had all her share--in spite of her dependentposition--not that she considered it a dependent one as long as she gave_quid pro quo_, and who shall say that she was altogether wrong? AndMrs Carstairs had put on a tone that was raspingly dictatorial andcommandeering. The second lay in the fact that the writer hadparticularly requested that all knowledge of her having received theletter should be withheld from his mother. Equally, as a matter offact, even as she had said--there was nothing in it. It was a veryharmless effusion. It contained vehement declarations of devotion, butsuch were merely unsophisticated and doglike. When at home the boy hadfallen violently in love with her, but though kind to him in a sisterlyway, she had not reciprocated, and while sorry for him had pointed outplainly to him more than once that this was so. She was older than himtoo, and could not look upon him from the point of view he wanted--andthis she also pointed out to him plainly.
In view of all this it seemed rather hard lines now that his mothershould swoop down upon her in this fashion as though she were a meredesigning intriguing adventuress, instead of being, as it happened, ofconsiderably older descent than this family of two generations of worthyand successful manufacturers, among whom perforce for the time being,she was earning her daily bread, and perhaps it was a little of thissense of contrast that raised that gold-crowned, well-poised,thoroughbred head somewhat higher in the air during the gathering stormof the interview. But here were two angry women, rapidly becoming moreangry still--the one steadfastly refusing what the other as equallysteadfastly imagined she had every right in the world to demand. Whatsort of outcome was this likely to yield?
The elder woman's normally rubicund cheeks had now gone nearly white.
"So that's your last word?" she panted.
"I'm afraid so."
"Then go. D'you hear. Go upstairs and pack, and leave this house atonce. That is the return I get for my kindness--my charity--in evertaking you into it at all."
Melian Mervyn Seward threw back her head, and straightened herself stillmore at the ugly word.
"Excuse me, Mrs Carstairs," she said, a small red circle coming intoeach of her likewise paled cheeks, "but I think you used the wrong word.You have had your full money value from me, fair work for fair wage.So I don't see where the word `charity' comes in at all."
The other could only sputter, she was simply speechless with wrath. Thegirl went on:
"Not only that, but I am entitled to some notice. I refuse to be thrownout in the street without any at all. Remember, I have to make my ownarrangements as to my next plans. So I will take your notice now if youlike."
You see there was the element of a capable business woman about thisthoroughbred, self possessed orphan girl, who had hardly a friend in theworld and that not capable of being of any use to her in a stress likethe present. She, calm, because with the power to control her whiteanger, held the other at a disadvantage, who had not.
"Oh, well," the latter managed to stutter. "I will pay you your month'swages, and--"
"Quarter's," corrected the girl quietly. "I am not a servant, let meremind you, but teacher of French and music to your children. ThereforeI am entitled to a quarter's notice."
"Why, this is blackmailing," blared the woman furiously. "Sheerblackmailing."
"Don't keep on using ugly words. You know it's nothing of the kind--only a sheer matter of business." And then somehow the mere mention ofthe word seemed to be effectual in calming the speaker's restrainedmath. "I have got to take care of myself, you know. There's no oneelse in this wide world to do it for me. So I must have my contractcarried out, or take steps to enforce it if necessary. There is noblackmailing in that."
"Oh, that's a threat, is it?"
"Not a bit. I am merely putting the situation before you from bothsides."
"You shall have your quarter, then," said the other, after a moment ofsilence. "But--leave this house by to-night."
"If I can, I will," answered the girl. "But I must first make sure thatI have somewhere to go to. So if you will kindly have a telegramdispatched for me, and the reply is satisfactory, I shall be prepared todo as you wish. _If_ it is not, I fear I shall have to burden you untilto-morrow morning."
The other gasped in speechless amazement. But she knew what was in