by Fergus Hume
CHAPTER XVI
THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS
Giles left "The Merry Dancer" quite determined to deceive Olga if itwere possible. No faith should be kept with such a woman. She had power,and she was using it unscrupulously for selfish ends. Moreover, comewhat might, Giles could not bring himself to make her his wife. He lovedAnne too deeply for that. And then he began to ask himself if he werenot selfish also, seeing that he would not lose his own gratification tosave the woman he loved. Nevertheless, he could not contemplate givingup Anne with equanimity, and set his wits to work in order to circumventthe treacherous Olga.
In the first place he now felt certain that Anne was in theneighborhood, and, as he shrewdly suspected, in the Priory. Thediscovery of the coin and the presence of Olga in the village made himcertain on this point. In some way or another she had got to know ofAnne's whereabouts, and had come here to make capital of her knowledge.If he consented to surrender Anne and make Olga his wife, she wouldprobably assist Anne to escape, or else, as she asserted, clear her ofcomplicity in the crime.
On the other hand, should he refuse, she would then tell the policewhere the unfortunate governess was to be found. It might be that Annecould save herself. But seeing that she had fled immediately after themurder, it would be difficult for her to exonerate herself. Also, thereason she had then to take the guilt upon her own shoulders might againstand in the way of her now clearing her character. Nothing was left butto marry Olga and so free Anne, or seek Anne himself. Ware determined toadopt the latter course as the least repugnant to his feelings.
But Olga was no mean antagonist. She loved Giles so much that she knewperfectly well that he did not love her, and this knowledge taught herto mistrust him. As her passion was so great she was content to take himas a reluctant husband, in the belief that she, as his wife, would intime wean him from his earlier love. But she was well aware that, evento save Anne, he would not give in without a struggle.
This being the case, she considered what he would do. It struck her thathe would see if he could get into the Priory, for from some words he hadlet fall she was convinced that he thought Anne was concealed therein.Olga had her own opinion about that; but she had to do with his actionsat present and not with her own thoughts. For this reason she determinedto watch him--to be in his company throughout the time of probation.
Thus it happened that before Giles could arrange his plans the nextday--one of which entailed a neighborly visit to Franklin--Olga made herappearance at his house, and expressed a desire to see his picturegallery, of which she had heard much. Her mother, she said, was comingover that afternoon to look at the house, which, as she had been told,was a model of what an English country-house should be.
Giles growled at this speech, being clever enough to see through theartifices of Mademoiselle Olga.
"The house is as old as the Tudors," he expostulated; "your mothershould look at a more modern one."
"Oh, no," replied Olga sweetly. "I am sure she will be delighted withthis one; it is so picturesque."
"I am afraid that I promised to pay a visit this afternoon."
"Ah, you must put it off, Mr. Ware. When two ladies come to see you, youreally cannot leave them alone."
"If the next day will do----"
"I don't think it will. My mother and I leave the next day. She is duein town to a reception at the Austrian Embassy."
Ware made other excuses, but Olga would listen to none of them. Shestopped all the morning and looked at the pictures, but she neverreferred to their conversation of the previous night. There was a tacitunderstanding between them that it should remain in abeyance until thetime given for the reply of Giles was ended. Still, Ware could notforget that burning kiss, and was awkward in consequence.
Not so Olga. She was quite cool and self-possessed, and although alonewith him for close on two hours, did not show the least confusion.Giles, much disgusted, called her in his own mind "unmaidenly." But shewas not that, for she behaved very discreetly. She was simply a womandeeply in love who was bent on gaining her ends. Considering the depthof her passion, she restrained herself very creditably when with the manshe loved. Giles now saw how it was that she had defied her family andhad taken her own way in life.
"I won't stop to luncheon," she said, when he asked her; "but I and mymother will come over at three o'clock." It was now close on two. "I amsure we shall have a pleasant afternoon."
Giles tried to smile, and succeeded very well, considering what hisfeelings were at the moment. If he could only have behaved brutally, hewould have refused the honor of the proposed visit, but it is difficultto be rude to a charming woman bent upon having her own way. Ware kickedas a man will, but ended in accepting the inevitable.
Olga returned to the inn, and found the Princess seated on the sofafanning herself violently. Mrs. Morris was in the room, flutteringnervously as she laid the cloth for luncheon. Olga looked at her mother."Did you take your walk?" she asked.
The Princess nodded. "I am very warm," she said.
"What do you think now?" asked her daughter impatiently.
"I think that you are a very clever woman, Olga," replied the Princess;"but I am too hungry to talk just now. When I have eaten and am restedwe can speak."
"But just one word. Am I right?"
"Perfectly right."
This conversation was conducted in French, and Mrs. Morris could makenothing of it. Even if she had known the sense she would not haveunderstood what it meant. However, Olga and her mother reverted toEnglish for the benefit of the landlady, and chatted about theirproposed visit to Ware's mansion. After that came luncheon. Shortlyafter three mother and daughter were with Giles. He received them withcomposure, although he felt quite otherwise than composed. The Princesspronounced him a charming young man.
"And what a delightful place you have here!" she said, looking at thequaint Tudor house, with its grey walls and mullion windows. "It islike a fairy palace. The Castle"--she meant her husband's residence inStyria--"is cruel-looking and wild."
"It was built in the Middle Ages," said Olga. "I don't think any one wasparticularly amiable then."
"I would rather have stayed in Jamaica," sighed the Princess. "Why did Iever leave it?"
Olga, who always appeared annoyed when her mother reverted to her earlylife, touched the elder woman's elbow. The Princess sighed again, andheld her peace. She had a fine temper of her own, but always felt thatit was an effort to use it. She therefore usually gave in to Olga. "Itsaved trouble," she explained.
But her good temper did not last all the afternoon, and ended indisarranging Olga's plans. After a hearty afternoon tea on the lawn thePrincess said that she did not feel well, and wished to go home. Olgademurred, but Giles, seeing the chance of escape, agreed that thePrincess really was unwell, and proposed to send them back to the inn inhis carriage. Princess Karacsay jumped at the offer.
"It will save me walking," she declared fretfully, "and I have done somuch this morning."
"Where did you go?" asked Giles, wondering that so indolent a womanshould exert herself on such a hot day.
"To some woods round a place they call the Priory."
"To the Priory!" he exclaimed, astonished. "Do you know Mr. Franklin?"
"My mother said the woods round the Priory," explained Olga, with anannoyed glance at the elder lady. "She did not enter."
"No," said the Princess, "I did not enter; I do not know the man. Oh, mydear Olga, do come back. I don't feel at all well."
"I will order the carriage," said Giles, rising.
"And you will come back with us?"
"Really, you must excuse me, Mademoiselle Olga," he answered; "but evena country squire has his work to do."
And with that he hurried away. In half an hour he had the satisfactionof seeing the carriage roll down his avenue with a very disappointedyoung lady frowning at the broad back of the coachman. Then he set aboutseeing what he could do to circumvent her.
It was too late to call on Frankli
n, as it was nearly six o'clock.Still, Ware thought he would reconnoitre in the woods. It was strangethat the elder Princess should have been there this morning, and hewondered if she also knew of Anne's whereabouts. But this he decided wasimpossible. She had only been a few days in England, and she would notlikely know anything about the governess. Still, it was odd that sheshould have taken a walk in that particular direction, or that sheshould have walked at all. Here was another mystery added to the onewhich already perplexed him so greatly.
However, time was too precious to be wasted in soliloquizing, so he wentoff post-haste towards the woods round the Priory. Since he wished toavoid observation, he chose by-paths, and took a rather circuitousroute. It was nearly seven when he found himself in the forest. Thesummer evenings were then at their longest, and under the great treesthere was a soft, brooding twilight full of peace and pleasant woodlandsounds. Had he gone straight forward, he would have come on the greathouse itself, centred in that fairy forest. But this was the last thinghe wished to do. He was not yet prepared to see Franklin. He looked hereand there to see if any human being was about, but unsuccessfully. Thenhe took his way to the spot where he had found the coin of Edward VII.To his surprise he saw a girl stooping and searching. At once he decidedthat she was looking for the lost coin. But the girl was not Anne.
Looking up suddenly she surveyed him with a startled air, and he saw herface plainly in the quiet evening light. She had reddish hair, afreckled face, and was dressed--as Mrs. Parry had said--in all thecolors of the rainbow. Giles guessed at once who she was, and bowed.
"Good evening, Miss Franklin," he said, lifting his hat, "you seem to belooking for something. Can I assist you?"
The damsel looked at him sternly and scowled. "You're trespassing," shesaid in rather a gruff voice.
"I fear that I am," he answered, laughing; "but you'll forgive me if Iassist you in your search, won't you?"
"Who are you?" questioned Miss Franklin, quite unmoved by thispoliteness. "I never saw you before."
"I have just returned from London. My name is Ware."
"Ware!" echoed the girl eagerly. "Giles Ware?"
"Yes. Do you know my name?"
She took a good look at him, and seemed--he was vain enough to thinkso--rather to soften towards him. "I have heard Mrs. Morley speak ofyou," she declared bluntly.
"Ah! You have not heard a lady speak of me?"
Miss Franklin stared. "No, I never heard a lady talk of you," shereplied, with a giggle. "What lady?"
"The lady who is stopping in your house."
Her eyes became hard, and she assumed a stony expression. "There is nolady in the house but myself."
"Not a lady who lost what you are looking for?"
This time she was thrown off her guard, and became as red as her hair.She tried to carry off her confusion with rudeness. "I don't know whatyou're talking of," she said, with a stamp and a frown! "you can justclear away off our land, or I'll set the dogs on you."
"I see. You keep dogs, do you? Bloodhounds probably?"
"How do you know that?" asked Miss Franklin, staring. "Yes, we do keepbloodhounds, and they will tear you to pieces if you don't go."
"You seem to forget that this is a civilized country," said Gilesquietly. "If you set your dogs on me, I shall set the police on you."
"The police!" She seemed startled, but recovered herself. "I don't carefor the police," she declared defiantly.
"You might not, but Walter Franklin might."
"Who is he? Never heard of him."
"Never heard of your uncle?" said Giles, and then wondered how he couldlet her know that he had heard it without confessing to theeavesdropping. It suddenly occurred to him that Franklin had--hesupposed--on the previous day made a confidant of Morley. Thissupposition he took advantage of. "Mr. Morley told me that your fatherhad mentioned his brother."
The girl started and thought for a moment. "Oh, you mean Uncle Walter,"she said, after a pause. "Yes, but we never talk of him."
This little speech did not ring quite true. It seemed as though the girlwished to back up the saying of her father, whether she believed it ornot. "Is that why you pretended ignorance?" he asked.
"That was why," replied Miss Franklin, with brazen assurance.
She was lying. Giles felt certain of that, but he could not bring theuntruth home to her. He suddenly reverted to the main object of hisinterview, which had to do with the possibility of Anne being in thePriory.
"What about that coin you are looking for?"
"I am looking for no coin," she replied, quite prepared for him. "I losta brooch here. Have you found it?"
"Yes," replied Giles, his eyes watchfully on her face. "It is an EdwardVII. coin in the form of a brooch."
He thought Miss Franklin would contradict this, but she was perfectlyequal to the occasion. "You must have found it, since you know it sowell. Please give it to me."
"I have left it at home," he answered, although it was lying in hispocket-book, and that next his heart. "I will give it to you to-morrowif you tell me from whom you got it."
"I found it," she confessed, "in the churchyard."
"Ah!" A sudden light flashed into the darkness of Ware's mind. "By thegrave of that poor girl who was murdered?"
"I don't know of any murdered girl," retorted Miss Franklin, and lookeduneasy, as though she were conscious of making a mistake.
"Yes you do, and you know the lady who cleans the stone and attends tothe grave. Don't deny the truth."
Miss Franklin looked him up and down, and shrugged her clumsy shoulders."I don't know what you are talking about," she declared, and with thatturned on her heel. "Since you will not take yourself off like agentleman, I'll go myself"; and she went.
"Don't set the bloodhounds on me," called out Giles. But she neverturned her head; simply went on with a steady step until she was lost inthe gloom of the wood.
Giles waited for a time. He had an idea that she was watching. By-and-bythe feeling wore off, and knowing by this time that he was quite alone,he also departed.
He was beginning to doubt Franklin, for this girl had evidentlysomething to conceal. He was sure that Anne was being sheltered in thehouse, and that it was Anne who cleaned the gravestone. Perhaps GeorgeFranklin was giving her shelter since she had helped his rascal of abrother to escape. Thus thinking, he went through the wood with theintention of going home. A glance at his watch told him it was aftereight.
Suddenly it occurred to him that it would be a good time to pay a visitto the graveyard and see if anything new had been done to the grave. Allthe people were within doors at this hour, and the churchyard would bequiet. Having made up his mind, he walked in the direction of the churchand vaulted the low wall that divided that graveyard from the park. Hesaw Daisy's grave. Bending over it a woman. She looked up with astartled cry. It was Anne Denham.