came, and my children went to their beds innocent of theagony I suffered, for there was the temptation stronger than before. Iwent to my room, and looked out. The sea and sky were all diamonds; andI tore back the blind, and I said that I must have two or three of thewretched stones--that I would have them--borrow them for a time, and befree."
"Oh, father, father!" groaned Fred; and Denville went on excitedly.
"I said I would have them, and I waited till it would be safe to go. Iknew that the old woman would have taken her sleeping-draught, and thatit would be easy enough to go in and get her keys--I knew where she keptthem--take out the diamond cross, get the stones changed, and replace itbefore she would miss it the next afternoon."
Fred groaned, and the old man went on, clutching him now by the arm ashe spoke, gazing fiercely in his eyes the while.
"I waited till all were sleeping, and the time seemed to have come, andthen, like a thief, I stole out of my room and along the passage, till Iwas outside the door where the old woman--poor old wreck of a woman--lay. It was only to borrow those diamonds for a time, and I meant toreplace them, though I knew that I was little better than a thief--acold-blooded, treacherous thief--to deal thus with the woman who trustedto my honour for her safety. But I was so sorely pressed for money, Isaid to myself; and keeping my creditors quiet meant placing Morton andClaire both well in life, and then my troubles would cease. Do you hearme?"
"Yes--I hear," groaned Fred.
"I stood there on the mat outside her door thinking that, and that itwould be for Claire's sake; and as I thought that, I saw her sweet, pureface before me, as it were, her eyes looking into mine; and I said: `Howcan I ever look into those eyes openly again?' I felt that I was stilla gentleman, but that in a few minutes I should be a despicable thief.Then I raised my hand to open the door, always unfastened so that Clairemight go in and out, but it dropped to my side, and I sank upon my kneesand prayed for strength to resist temptation, and the strength I askedwas given."
The old man paused, for there was a step outside in the stone passage,and it seemed that the gaoler was coming there; but he passed on, andDenville gripped his son's arm more tightly.
"I don't know how long I knelt there, but I was rising with thetemptation crushed, and as I rose I was going back to my room."
"Hah!" ejaculated Fred excitedly, and he breathed more freely.
"Back to my room, boy, when I seemed to be roused from the stuporbrought on by my agony of mind, for there was a sound in the countess'schamber. I listened, and there it was again. It was a confused sound,as if she were moving in her bed, and I thought she must be ill, andwant Claire. I was about to go and rouse her, when there were othersounds; there was a loud crash, and I stood as if turned to ice."
"You heard sounds!" gasped Fred; and he looked horror-stricken andshrinking as his father seemed to grow in strength.
"Yes," whispered the old man fiercely, as he seemed to fix Fred Denvillewith his eye; "I heard sounds that froze me with horror, as I felt thatmy temptation had been in the shape of a warning of evil, and thatanother was at work in the poor old woman's room. For a few minutes Icould not stir. Then, mastering my horror and fear, and calling myselfcoward, I hurried into the room, to find myself face to face with himwho had entered before. I saw all at a glance, as a hoarse groan camefrom the bed--the curtain torn aside, and the murderer by thedressing-table, with the jewel-casket in his hand."
"You saw all this?" cried Fred, white as ashes now. "Father, you sawthis?"
"Everything, as I dashed--old weak man as I was--at the wretch who haddone this thing. It was only a momentary struggle, and I was throwndown, and saw him dart to the folding-doors and pass through. Istaggered after him in time to hear him overturn a pot or two in theverandah, as he swung himself over and slid down the pillar. Then I wasalone panting there in that chamber of death; for as I took the candlefrom the little stand, and drew aside the curtain, it was to gaze downupon the starting eyes of the strangled woman--dead in my house, underthe protection of my roof; and, with the horrible thought upon me thatonly a brief while back I was nearly entering that chamber to play thepart of thief, I gave no alarm, but shrank towards the door, and stoleout trembling, bathed with sweat, to get back to my room, and try tothink out what I should do."
Fred Denville groaned, and the old man's breath went and came with thesound of one who has been hunted till he stands at bay.
"I had not been there a minute before I heard steps; a light shonebeneath my door, and I sat trembling, utterly prostrated, for I knewthat it was Claire who had been alarmed. I wanted to go out and stopher, to set her on her guard; but I sat there as if suffering fromnightmare, unable to move, even when she came at last and summoned me;and, like one in a dream, I listened to what she had to say, andfollowed her to the murdered woman's room. I could not stay her; Icould do nothing. I dared not give the alarm; I dared not speak, butwent with her, and saw all again in a dazed, confused way, till Inoticed something on the floor, which I snatched up and hid from Claire;and then the confusion was gone--driven away by the agony I felt. MyGod, what agony, as I read in Claire's eyes that she believed I had donethat deed!"
"She believed this of you?"
"Yes; and believes it still," groaned the prisoner.
"But--but," cried Fred excitedly, "what was it you snatched from thefloor?"
"A knife; a knife I knew. One that I had seen before."
"But the murderer--you saw him?"
"Plainly as I see you."
"But you did not summon help."
"I could not."
"I knew you were innocent," cried Fred excitedly. "I swore you were."
"I am," said the old man coldly.
"Should you know the wretch again?" panted Fred.
"Yes; too well."
"But you did not say this at the inquest."
"My lips were closed."
"But, father, you do not--"
"Silence, hypocrite! Enough of this. I could not speak. I dare nottell the world the murderer was my own son."
Fred Denville drew himself erect. His father rose from the bed, and thetwo men stood gazing for some minutes in each other's eyes without aword.
It was the Master of the Ceremonies who broke the spell.
"Now," he said, "I have spoken. It is enough. Your secret is safe withme. Go. Repent, but do not ask me to forgive you. Ask that of Heaven.I am old and broken, and can die."
"But, father!" groaned Fred wildly, "it was not I."
"It was my eldest son. I saw him as he struggled with me--in hisuniform, and I picked up afterwards from the floor his knife--hispocket-knife that had been used to wrench open the casket of jewels.The knife with `RM' on the handle. It was given to my son by thefisherman, Miggles."
"Yes, Dick gave me that knife years ago," said Fred, speaking like onewho has received a tremendous blow. "I have not seen it since thatnight."
"No," said the old man bitterly; "it lies far out beyond the end of thepier, buried deep in sand by now."
Fred Denville stood holding his hands pressed to his head, staringstraight before him at the whitewashed wall, while neither spoke.
The silence was broken by the rattling of bolts and the turning of akey, when the gaoler threw open the door, and, without a word, thedragoon walked, or rather reeled, from the cell, as if he had takenstrong drink till his senses were nearly gone.
Volume Three, Chapter XVI.
BLOW FOR BLOW.
Fred Denville went straight to Barclay's, and was admitted, Clairelooking at him reproachfully as he threw himself into a chair.
"Oh, Fred!" she cried, "and at such a time!"
"Not been drinking," he said; "not been drinking. How's May?"
"Very ill, dear," said Claire sadly. "Here?"
"Yes, Mrs Barclay insisted upon her being brought, so that we could betogether."
"God bless her," said Fred softly. Then, after a pause--"I've seen theold man."
"And you are f
riends, Fred?"
He shook his head, and sat staring down at the carpet. "But you triedto be, dear?"
"Yes; tried hard. I've been. I've done my duty--for once," he saidwith a strange laugh.
He did not speak again for a few minutes, and Claire sat holding hishand, looking at him doubtingly, his manner was so strange.
"You think I've been drinking," he cried fiercely. "Give a dog a badname, and then hang him. I haven't touched a drop to-day."
He changed his manner to her directly, and his voice was low and tenderas he took her to his breast and kissed her.
"Poor little Clairy," he said; "you've had a rough time. Never mind;brighter days coming. The old man will be found innocent."
"Innocent, Fred?" she faltered.
"Yes, innocent," he cried. "Wait: you will see. Clairy, look here.Tell me this. Did I ever talk about Lady Teigne's jewels when I came tosee you?"
"I don't know, dear. Yes, I remember now, I think you did."
"Hah!" he ejaculated. "I must go now. Good-bye, little woman. Ialways loved my little sister, always. You know that, don't you,Clairy?"
"Yes, dear Fred, always."
"Bad as I was?"
"Oh, Fred, I never thought you bad," cried Claire piteously. "I onlythought it was a pity you did not try to raise yourself, and--"
"Leave the drink alone. Quite right, Clairy. It was the drink. Itmakes a man stupid and mad. He doesn't know what he's about when he hastaken too much. Remember that, my dear, it was the drink."
"Fred, how strangely you are talking."
"Strangely?" he said, clasping her to his breast, "strangely? Well, Imeant to be kind and tender to my poor, suffering little sister. I'vebeen a bad lot, but I always loved my little Claire."
She stood gazing wonderingly after him, he seemed so strange in his way,as, after straining her to his breast, he kissed her passionately againand again, and then turned and literally ran from the room, while, asshe placed her hand against her face, she found that it was wet.
"Poor Fred," she said, "if I could only win him from his ways."
She said no more, for her thoughts were only too ready to turn to theirusual theme--her father and his imprisonment, and she sat down to resther aching head upon her hand, wondering what had passed during theinterview within the prison walls.
Fred Denville found Mr and Mrs Barclay below, and in a quick, agitatedway he caught Mrs Barclay's hand.
"It's very kind of you to let me call upon my sister," he said, "seeingwhat I am. I thank you. I am not coming again."
"Not coming again? Oh, I'm sure you're welcome enough, Mr Fred, foryour sister's sake," said Mrs Barclay, "isn't he, Jo-si-ah?"
"Of course, of course."
"Thank you--both of you," cried Fred hastily. "You are very good, andthat's why I say be kind to my poor sisters, and try and comfort both ifanything happens."
"Oh, but we must not let anything happen," said Barclay. "The poor oldgentleman must be saved."
"Yes, of course," said Fred dreamily; "he must be saved. He's innocentenough, poor old fellow. I did not mean that. You'll take care of thepoor girls, won't you?"
"Why, of course we will, Mr Fred Denville; of course we will. There,don't you make yourself uneasy about them."
"I won't," said Fred, in his bluff, straightforward way. "I may bequite happy, then, about Claire?"
"To be sure you may."
"I shouldn't like her to suffer any more, and it would be terrible forthose wretched dandy scoundrels to get hold of her and break her heart."
"Don't you fidget yourself about that, young man," said Mrs Barclaywith quite a snort. "Your dear sister's too proud for any jack-a-dandyfellow to win her heart."
"You're a good woman," said Fred softly. "I'm not much account as aman, but I know a good woman when I meet one, and I wish I'd had such aone as you by me when I was a boy. If I had, I shouldn't have been acommon soldier now. Good-bye, ma'am; good-bye, sir. Heaven bless youboth."
He hurried out, afraid of showing his emotion, and Mrs Barclay turnedround wiping her eyes.
"There, Jo-si-ah, you see everybody don't think ill of us, bad as weare."
"Humph! no," said Barclay thoughtfully; "but I don't understand thatchap--he's so strange. Why, surely, old girl, he had no hand in thatmurder."
"Lor'! Jo-si-ah, don't! You give me the creeps all over. I do wishyou wouldn't think about murders and that sort of thing. You give mequite a turn. I wouldn't have my dear Claire hear you for the world."
"All right! I won't say anything before her; but this young chap hasset me thinking; he seemed so strange."
Other people thought Fred Denville strange, notably Major Rockley, who,in company with Sir Matthew Bray and Sir Harry Payne, was on the Parade,as, with brows knit and eyes bent down, the dragoon came along, walkingswiftly.
The three officers were in undress uniform, having just left parade, andeach carried his riding-whip.
Fred did not notice them, he was too deep in thought, and walkingstraight on he went right between them, unintentionally giving SirMatthew Bray a rough thrust with his shoulder, for of course an officercould not give way to a private.
It was Fred Denville's duty, in the character of James Bell, privatedragoon, to have saluted his officers and given them all the path, ifnecessary; but at that moment he could see nothing but the greywhite-faced old man in the cell at the gaol, in peril of his life andthreatened with a felon's death.
"I must have been drunk," he was muttering to himself. "Yes: Iremember, I was horribly drunk that night, and didn't know what I wasdoing. Poor old father! with all your faults you did not deserve this.Yes: I must have been drunk."
At this point he was brought from his musings to the present by astinging cut from a riding-whip across the back, his tight uniform beingso little protection that the sharp whalebone seemed to divide theflesh.
With a cry of rage he turned round, and flung out his fist, striking SirHarry Payne, who had given the blow with the whip, full on the nose, andsending him backwards.
"You insolent dog!"
"You scoundrel!"
The epithets were delivered in a breath by Major Rockley and Sir MatthewBray, just as Lord Carboro' approached, walking by Lady Drelincourt'sbath-chair.
It was an opportunity for showing how an insolent drunken private shouldbe treated; and as several loungers of society were coming up, the twoofficers accompanied their words with a couple of blows from theirwhips.
It is dangerous to play with edged tools, is proverbially said; and, inhis then frame of mind, Fred Denville felt no longer that he was JamesBell, the disciplined, kept-down servant and private. He felt as a mansmarting from the blows he had received. The service, the penalty forstriking an officer, were as nothing to him then; he saw only the big,pompous, insolent bully of his regiment, Sir Matthew Bray, and the manwho had insulted him a thousand times, which he could have forgiven, andhis sister again and again, which he could not forgive.
With one bound he was upon Sir Matthew Bray, whom he struck full in thechest, so that he staggered back, tripped his heels on the front wheelof Lady Drelincourt's bath-chair, and fell heavily into the road.
With another bound he was upon Rockley, who had followed and struck himagain a sharp, stinging cut.
There was a momentary struggle, and then the whip was twisted out ofRockley's hand, his wrist half dislocated, and for a couple of minutesthe thin scourge hissed and whistled through the air as, half mad withrage, Fred lashed the Major across shoulders, back, and legs, andfinally dashed him down with a parting cut across the face.
"That for you, you horsewhipped cur and scoundrel! You disgrace theuniform you wear!"
There was a little crowd gathering, but only one man dared to seize uponthe fierce-looking dragoon, and that one was Lord Carboro'.
"Loose my arm," roared Fred, turning upon him with uplifted whip; but,as he saw who held him, and that Bray and Payne were holding aloof, andhe
lping Rockley to rise, he lowered his whip. "Loose my arm, my lord;you're an old man, I can't strive with you."
"You rascal! You have struck your superior officers."
"Superior!" raged out Fred. "I have horsewhipped a vile _roue_ for theblow he struck me, and ten times as much for--Keep off!" he roared, asColonel Mellersh and Linnell joined the group.
"I shall hold you till a picket comes from the barracks, sir, to takeyou in arrest," cried Lord Carboro' sternly.
Fred Denville did not attempt to wrest his arm away, but smiled halfcontemptuously at the padded, made-up old nobleman, and gave the whip alash through the air as he stared hard at Rockley, who was white withrage, but talked to him who held his arm.
"Look here, my lord," he said, "is it amongst your set a social sin fora man to horsewhip the blackguard who insults his sister?"
"No," said Lord Carboro' stoutly; "but you have struck your superiorofficer."
"I have thrashed the scoundrel who would have dragged my sister in themire could he have had his way. It was my last act as a
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