CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.
Kate Wilton looked at the woman in horror.
"Yes, ma'am," Sarah continued, "there it was, and when I opened the doorI could only get it a little way, for something was just inside, and asI stood there trembling, there came out a nasty wet smell of gunpowder,just as if water had been upset on the hob.
"I didn't want any telling, ma'am; I knew, and poor Becky knew, thatmaster had shot himself with something and was lying there.
"I waited for just about a minute, ma'am, for my senses seemed to bequite gone, and I was as bad as poor Becky; but I got to be a littlesensible soon, and began to feel that I must do something. I called toBecky to come and help me, but it was no use; she was just as if she wasstunned, and could only stare at me, shivering all the while. So I feltthat I must do what there was to do myself, and I went back to the door,and pushed and pushed till I could just squeeze myself through thenarrow slit I made; and then I dursen't look round, but stood with myback to it for ever so long before I could feel that he might be alive,and that I ought to go for the doctor.
"I looked round then, feeling as I turned that I should be obliged toshriek out, but I didn't. Poor master, he was lying on his side, withhis hand under his head, just quiet and calm, as if he had only gone tosleep. It made me wonder what I had been frightened at, and I went downon one knee and took the hand which was by his side, touching a pistol."
"Yes?" said Kate, breathlessly, for the woman paused.
"Yes, ma'am, it was quite cold. He must have shot himself early in thenight, and I knew it was no good to go to fetch a doctor then.Leastwise I think that's what I felt, for I didn't _go_, but crept outvery softly and shut the door; and then I took hold of poor Becky's armand led her down to the kitchen, where she went off into a dead faint,and came to, and fainted over again--fit after fit, so that I was busyfor hours and didn't know how time went, till all at once there was adouble knock at the door, which I knew was Mr Garstang come.
"I went up and let him in, and he looked at me so strange.
"`What is it?' he said; `your master?'
"`Yes, sir,' I says, `and I was to show you in as soon as you came.'
"He nodded, and went up at once, neither of us saying another word.Then he went in through the door gently, and came out again, lookinghorribly shocked.
"`When did you find him?' he says; and I told him. `Poor fellow!' hesays, `I am not surprised. Sarah Plant, you must go and tell thepolice;' and I did, and there was an inquest, and at last the poor oldmaster was to be buried, with only Mr Garstang to follow him, for hehad no relations or friends.
"I sat in my bit of noo black, and Becky just opposite me, waiting whilethey'd gone to the cemetery, for no one asked me to go, and I sat therelooking at Becky, who began crying as she heard them carrying the coffindownstairs and never stopped all that time. And I thought to myself,`We two will have to go out into the world, and nobody won't take uswith poor Becky like that;' and my heart was so full, miss--ma'am, thatI began to cry, too; but I'm afraid it was for myself, not for poormaster. Last of all, the carriage came back, and I let Mr Garstang in,looking terribly cut up.
"`Bring me a little tea, Sarah,' he says, and I went and got it, and hada cup, too, wanting it as I did badly, and by-and-by he rung for me tofetch the tray.
"I got to the door with it, when he calls me back.
"`Sarah,' he says, `your poor master has no relations left, and by thepapers I hold, everything comes to me.'
"`Yes, sir; so I s'posed,' I says to him, `and you want me and Becky togo at once.'
"He looked at me with that nice soft smile of his, and he says, `Whyshould you think that? No,' he says, `I want everything to stay just asit is; I won't have a thing moved, and I should be very glad if you andBecky would stay and keep the house for me.'
"I couldn't answer him, ma'am, for I was crying bitterly; but I knewhim, what a good man he was, and that me and Becky had found a friend.Seven years ago, ma'am, and never an unkind word from him when he came,which wasn't often. He only told me not to gossip about the place, andI said I wouldn't, and never did till I talked to you, ma'am, and as forpoor Becky, she never speaks to no one. Perhaps, ma'am, you'd like tocome upstairs, and see the marks."
"See the marks?" stammered Kate.
"Yes, ma'am, where old master lay. You've never been in the littlelib'ry, but if you like I'll show you now. There's only a little rug tomove, and there it is, quite plain."
"No, no, I do not wish to see," said Kate, shuddering. "So there hasbeen a terrible tragedy here?"
"Yes, ma'am, and that's what makes the place so dull and still. I oftenfancy I can see poor old master gliding about the staircase andpassages; but it's all fancy, of course."
"All fancy, of course," said Kate, softly. "But it is very terrible forsuch a thing to have happened here."
"Yes, ma'am, that's what I often think; and there's been times when I'mlow-spirited; and you know there are times when one does get like thatBecky's enough to make anyone dumpy, at the best of times, 'speciallytowards night, when she's sitting there with her face tied up and hereyes staring and looking toward the door, as if she fancied she wasgoing to see master come in; for she will believe in ghosts, and it's nouse to try to stop her. Ah, she's a great trial, ma'am."
"Poor girl!" said Kate.
"Thankye, ma'am. It's very good of you to say so," sighed the woman;"and it is nice to have a lady here to talk to. It's quite altered theplace. There have been times, and many of them, when I felt that I musttake poor Becky away and get another situation, but it would beungrateful to new master, who's a dear good man, and never an unkindword since with him I've been. It isn't everyone who'd keep a servantwith a girl like Becky about the house. But he never seems to mind,being a busy man, and I s'pose he must see that the only way in whichBecky's happy is in cleaning and polishing things. I believe if shewoke up in the middle of the night and remembered that she hadn't dustedsomething she'd want to get up and do it; and she would, too, if shedared. But go about the house in the middle of the night without me,ma'am? No; wild horses wouldn't drag her."
Sarah Plant ceased speaking, for she suddenly woke to the fact that Katewas gazing at the fire, with her thoughts evidently far away; and thewoman stole softly from the room. But as the door clicked faintly Katestarted and looked about her, half disposed to call her back, for thenarrative she had heard made her position seem terribly lonely.
She restrained herself, though, and sat trying to think and turn thecurrent of her thoughts, telling herself that she had no cause foranxiety save on Eliza's account. For Garstang could not have been morefatherly and considerate to her. His words, too, were wise and right.To let her uncle know where she was must result in scenes that would bestormy and violent; and she determined at last to let herself be guidedentirely by her self-constituted guardian.
"Yes, he is right. He is all that is kind and fatherly in his way, andI, too, should be ungrateful if I murmured against my position. It willnot be for long. In less than two years I shall be of age, and fully myown mistress."
She paused to think, for a doubt arose.
Would she be her own mistress? She had heard her father's will read,but it was at a time when she was distracted with grief, and save thatshe grasped that she was heiress to a large fortune, which was to remaininvested in her father's old bank, she knew comparatively nothing as tothe control her uncle possessed. Yes; she recalled that he was soleexecutor and guardian until she married.
"And I shall never marry," she sighed; but as the words were breathed,scenes at the old Manor came back; the pleasant little intimacy withJenny Leigh, her praise of her brother, and that brother's manly, kindlyattentions to his patient, his skill having achieved so much in bringingher back to health.
Yes, he had always been the attentive, courteous physician, and neitherword nor look had intimated that he was anything else; but these thingsare a mystery beyond human control, and as Kate Wilton sat and t
hought,it was with Pierce Leigh present with her in spirit, and she feltstartled; for the tell-tale blood was mantling her cheeks, and shehurriedly rose to do something to change the current of her thoughts.
"Poor Mr Garstang," she said, softly; "he shall not find me ungrateful.He, too, has suffered. If he had had a daughter like this!"
She recalled his words, evidently not intended for her ears. Wifeless--childless--wealthy, and yet solitary.
Her heart warmed towards him, and she was ready to call herself selfishfor intruding her wishes upon one whose sole thought seemed to be toprotect her and make her life peaceful.
"He shall not find me selfish," she said to herself, "and I will beguided by him and do what he thinks right."
She went out into the solemn-looking hall and began to ascend the greatstaircase, taking a fresh interest in the place, which seemed now as ifit would be her home perhaps for months. The pictures and statuesinterested her, and she paused before a cabinet of curious old china,partly to try and admire, partly to think of how ignorant she was of allthese matters, and a few minutes after, found herself close to the heavycurtain, beyond which was the door leading into the little library.
A strange thrill ran through her, and she turned to hurry into her ownroom, with her cheeks growing pale. But the blood flowed back, and witha feeling of self-contempt she walked straight to the curtain, drew itaside, passed through an archway, and turned the handle of a door. Thisopened upon a passage, whose walls were covered with venerable lookingbooks, a dim skylight above showing the faded leather and worn gildingupon their backs. There was another door at the end, and as the woman'snarrative forced itself back to her attention there was a fresh thrillwhich chilled her; but she went on firmly, opened the door, and passedthrough to find herself in the first of two rooms connected by a broadopening dimly lit by a stained-glass window, and completely covered withbooks, all old and evidently treasures of a collector.
Once more she shuddered, for she was standing upon one of several smallPersian rugs dotted about the dark polished floor, and from the woman'sdescription she knew that she must be where the former owner of thehouse had lain dead.
But the sensation of dread was momentary, and the warm flush of lifecame back to her cheeks as she said softly:
"What is there to fear?" and then found herself repeating:
"`There is no Death! What seems so is transition; This life of mortal breath Is but a suburb of the life elysian Whose portal we call Death.'
"Oh, father--father!" she moaned softly; "but I am so lonely withoutyou;" and she sank into a chair, to weep bitterly.
The tears brought relief and firmness, and drying her eyes, she wentslowly from room to room, thinking of him who had once trod thoseboards--a sad and solitary man.
Somehow her thoughts brought her back to Garstang, who seemed so nobleand chivalrous in his conduct to her, and how that he, too, was a sadand solitary man, for she had heard in the past that his marriage hadproved unhappy.
A few minutes later, when she let the curtain drop behind her, and stoodonce more on the staircase, a change had come over her, and in spite ofthe slight redness and moisture remaining in her eyes, she lookedbrighter and more at rest, till she caught a glimpse of a strangely wildpair of staring eyes gazing at her from one of the dark doorways inhorror and wonder, till their owner grasped the fact that she wasobserved, and fled.
"Poor Becky!" thought Kate, as she smiled sadly? "I must try and makefriends with her now."
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