The Five Knots

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The Five Knots Page 33

by Fred M. White


  *CHAPTER XXXIII*

  *BY WHOSE HAND?*

  The appointed hour came and with it the huge, smooth-running motor whichShelton had sent to convey the patient to Maldon Grange. In the skilledhands of the nurse everything went off without a hitch, and in a fewmoments Samuel Flower lay in the car as comfortably as in his own bed.There was room for others besides Wilfrid and Beatrice, and Cotter, whohad begged a seat, was accommodated. Any seat would do for him, he saidin his simple way. All he asked was two or three minutes' grace tocollect certain papers which Samuel Flower would need when he was ableto attend to business again. Wilfrid smiled grimly as he listened. Heknew one of these papers. He knew that the little man screwed up in oneof the back seats would have no mercy upon him.

  It was a silent journey through the night, and the whole party wererelieved when Maldon Grange was reached and Samuel Flower was safelylaid in bed. During the whole run he had never moved once. He acceptedthe change of scene without the slightest knowledge that it had takenplace.

  "I think that is all," Wilfrid said at length. "You won't want me foranything else?"

  "Well, no, sir," the nurse said. "I have had full instructions from Dr.Shelton, so that I know what to do."

  It was good to be out of the house in the stillness of the night, andBeatrice breathed a sigh of relief as she walked by Wilfrid's sidetowards Oldborough. It was a fine night, very tranquil and restful tothe nerves. The little town was reached at length and Wilfrid turned inat the gate leading up to his own house. He had sent a telegram fromLondon so that his mother was prepared for him.

  Everything looked bright and cheerful, Beatrice thought, in such strangecontrast to the gilded misery through which she had been passing lately.She could understand now why Wilfrid was proud of his home and what awrench it would be to give it up. She understood the matter stillbetter when a delightful, grey-haired lady came into the drawing-roomand kissed her affectionately on the lips.

  "I am so pleased to see you," Mrs. Mercer said. "What a terrible timeyou must have been having to be sure! But you will be safe in my house,and I will do my best to make you comfortable. Now sit down and be athome."

  Beatrice's eyes were full of tears, and something seemed to rise up inher throat and choke her. She had many acquaintances, but she couldnever remember such a hearty welcome as this. Her eyes wandered roundthe tiny drawing-room. She noticed the various treasures and marked thegood taste with which everything was displayed.

  "I am afraid it isn't much of a place to you," Mrs. Mercer said. "But,at any rate, it will be perfectly quiet. You don't know what a changeit is to me after living in lodgings all the years Wilfrid was at sea."

  Mercer was out of the room so that his mother could speak freely toBeatrice.

  "Of course, it was a wrench to him," she went on. "He always loved anadventurous life, and it was for my sake that he settled down, and I amsure he will do well in time. It has been a struggle till now, butthings are gradually mending and I am becoming quite fond of my newhome. It would be dreadful to go back to those lodgings again. I don'tthink I could."

  Beatrice murmured something sympathetic. She was beginning to fall underthe charm of this kindly old lady, who seemed to have but one idea andthat to sacrifice herself to other people. A tinge of colour mantledBeatrice's cheeks as she thought how different this was to the life shehad been leading. The pathetic side of it, too, appealed to her nature.It seemed a terrible thing that within a few hours this dear old womanshould be deprived of everything that was the pride and joy of herdeclining years. And the thing was going to be done in cold blood.Surely, there must be some way to prevent it.

  Wilfrid's return put an end for the moment to Beatrice's troubledthoughts. He was going back to Maldon Grange, at once, he said, butwould return in the afternoon and take Beatrice to see her uncle. Hekissed his mother affectionately and a moment later he was gone.

  Quiet and peaceful as it was, yet Beatrice wished herself miles away.Indirectly her own hand seemed about to dash the cup of happiness fromthe lips of two worthy people. She was no longer blaming Wilfrid forthe terrible temptation which had assailed him earlier in the day; shewas thinking she herself would have fallen into it without the slightesthesitation. She was tired, too, a fact which did not escape Mrs.Mercer's attention.

  "How thoughtless of me to keep you up!" she said. "Come with me andI'll show you to your room. You must be quite worn out."

  It was pleasant and soothing. No shadow of tragedy hung over the house,and Beatrice slept as she had not slept for nights. She came down tobreakfast strengthened and refreshed, and yet anxious to be away fromthe house when the blow fell. She felt like a traitor in the camp. Sheracked her mind again and again for some way to save the situation. Shewas glad and yet sorry when the early afternoon came and Wilfrid put inan appearance.

  "Your uncle is no better and no worse," he explained. "He passed afairly good night, but he has been very restless all morning. Now andagain he recognizes people, but it is only for a moment. If you arequite ready we will go back to Maldon Grange and you can stay there tillbed-time. If you like to come back here----"

  Wilfrid paused and bit his lip. He had forgotten what the next twohours were likely to produce for him. The time was past for paying themoney, and Cotter, acting as Flower's agent, could step in at any momentand claim everything. There was a brief respite, Wilfrid knew, becauseCotter had gone into Castlebridge, no doubt to complete certain legalformalities, and would not be back much before six.

  "I am going to leave you at Maldon Grange," Wilfrid explained when oncethey had set out on their journey. "I must be at home when Cotterreturns from Castlebridge. I have had many unpleasant things to face inmy life, but nothing that I shrink from so much as telling my poor dearmother the truth. I dread to have to tell her."

  "But is it necessary?" Beatrice asked eagerly. "The amount is not alarge one. Put your pride in your pocket and let me help you. I havejewels and ornaments which I could easily turn into money. There arelots of things at Maldon Grange I could give to you directly we getthere, and you could be in Castlebridge and back on your bicycle beforeMr. Cotter returns. Please do not hesitate to accept this offer."

  Beatrice paused and laid her hand on her companion's shoulder. She wasintensely in earnest. Her eyes were fixed upon his. They were passingthrough the wood which led to Maldon Grange, so that they were alone andundisturbed. Very gently Wilfrid removed the girl's hand from hisshoulder and shook his head.

  "I have very few possessions left," he said, "but my self-respect is oneof them. Don't you see, Beatrice, how impossible it is that I can allowyou to do this thing? I cannot find sufficient words to thank you, butI must refuse. I should never forgive myself if I yielded to atemptation which is far worse than the temptation which was placed in myway yesterday. Besides, it is just possible that I am alarming myselfunduly, and I may yet find time and opportunity----"

  Wilfrid paused and threw up his head. From the back of the wood someone was shouting in terror; then there rose a wild cry for help, andthere was a crackling of broken twigs as some one bolted in thedistance. It was all over in a moment and the silence fell again, butWilfrid seemed dimly to make out the figure of Cotter as he dashedthrough the thickets towards the open fields.

  Without another word he hurried to the spot where there wereunmistakable signs of a struggle. A hat lay on the grass and by the sideof it a revolver charged in all six chambers. Here, too, were pieces oftorn blue paper tossed in a pile upon the dead leaves. Wilfrid pickedup the fragments and pieced a few of them together. He turned toBeatrice eagerly.

  "Amazing!" he exclaimed. "This is the acceptance itself--the verydocument that was to prove my undoing."

 

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