CHAPTER VI
THE MYSTERIOUS MAID
"My lord."
Cyril shook himself reluctantly awake.
"Sorry to disturb you, but this 'as just come," said Peter, holding outa tray on which lay an opened telegram. His expression was so tragicthat Cyril started up and seized the message.
It was addressed to Peter Thompkins, Geralton Castle, Newhaven, andread: "Change for the better. Your presence necessary." Signed,"Stuart-Smith."
"Why, that is good news!" cried Cyril greatly relieved. "What are youpulling such a long face for?"
"You call it good news that you haven't got rid of that young womanyet?" exclaimed Peter. "This Stuart-Smith, whoever he may be, who iswiring you to come to 'er, thinks she's your wife, doesn't he? That wasbad enough when you were just Mr. Crichton, but now it's just hawful. ALady Wilmersley can't be hid as a Mrs. Crichton could, begging yourpardon. Oh, it'll all come out, so it will, and you'll be 'ad up forbigamy, like as not!" Peter almost groaned.
"Nonsense! As soon as the young lady recovers, she will join her friendsand no one will be any the wiser."
Peter shook his head incredulously.
"Well, my lord, let's 'ope so! But what answer am I to send to thistelegram? You can't leave the castle now."
"It would certainly be inconvenient," agreed his master.
"If you did, you'd be followed, my lord."
"What do you mean? The police can't be such fools as all that."
"'Tisn't the police, my lord. It's those men from the newspapers. Thecastle is full of them; they're nosing about heverywhere; there's notone of us as hasn't been pestered with the fellows. It's what you arelike, what are you doing, what 'ave you done, and a lot more foolishquestions hever since we set foot here yesterday afternoon. And 'we'llpay you well,' they say. Of course, I've not opened my mouth to them,but they're that persistent, they'll follow you to the end of the earthif you should leave the castle unexpectedly."
This was a complication that had not occurred to Cyril, and yet he felthe ought to have foreseen it. What was to be done? He couldn't abandonthe girl. Suddenly Stuart-Smith's stern face and uncompromising upperlip rose vividly before him. Even if he wished to do so, the doctorwould never allow him to ignore his supposed wife. If he did not answerhis summons in person, Smith would certainly put the worstinterpretation on his absence. He would argue that only a brute wouldneglect a wife who was lying seriously ill and the fact that the girlhad been flogged could also be remembered against him. Dr. Smith wascapable of taking drastic measures to force him into performing what heconsidered the latter's obvious duty.
Cyril did not know what to do. He had only a choice of evils. If hewent, he would surely be followed and the girl's existence andhiding-place discovered. That would be fatal not only to him but to her,for she had feared detection above all things--why, he could not evensurmise--he no longer even cared; but he had promised to protect her andmeant to do so.
On the other hand, if he did not go, he ran the risk of the doctor'spublishing the girl's whereabouts. Still, it was by no means certain hewould do so, and if he wrote Smith a diplomatic letter, he might succeedin persuading him that it was best for the girl if he stayed away a daylonger. Yes, that was the thing to do. Hastily throwing on adressing-gown, he sat down at the desk. It was a difficult letter towrite and he destroyed many sheets before he was finally satisfied. Thiswas the result of his efforts:
"DEAR DR. STUART-SMITH:
"I am infinitely relieved that your patient is better. As you addressed your wire here, I gather that you know of the tragic occurrence, which has kept me from her side. It is impossible for me to leave before the funeral without explaining my mission, and this I am very loath to do, as I am more than ever anxious to keep her malady a secret. Dr. Monet has always believed in the possibility of a cure, and as long as there is a chance of that, I am sure you will agree with me that I ought to make every sacrifice to protect her from gossip. If she did recover and her illness became known, it would greatly handicap her in her new life. Having to stay away from her would be even more distressing to me than it is if I could flatter myself that my presence would have a good effect upon her. I am sure, however, that such would not be the case.
"I shall return to London late to-morrow afternoon and will telephone you immediately on my arrival.
"I am sending this by a trustworthy servant, who will bring me your answer. I am most anxious to hear what you think of your patient's condition, mentally as well as physically. I am sure she could not be in better hands."
Then Cyril hesitated. What should he sign himself? Thompkins? No, hewished to inspire confidence; his own name would be better. So with afirm hand he wrote "Wilmersley."
It was the first time he had used his new signature and he heartilywished it had not been appended to such a document.
"Now, Peter," he said, "you must take the next train to London and carrythis to Dr. Stuart-Smith. If he is not at the nursing home, telephone tohis house and find out where he is. The letter must be delivered as soonas possible and you are to wait for a reply. If the doctor asks you anyquestions, answer as briefly as possible. In order to avoid comment youhad better let it be known that you are going up to town to do someshopping for me. Buy something--anything. I want you also to call at thelodgings and tell them we shall return to-morrow. If you are followed,which I can't believe you will be, this will allay suspicion. Take ataxi and get back as soon as possible. Don't drive directly to the Home.You may mention to the doctor that I am extremely anxious about Mrs.Thompkins."
"Very good, my lord."
"Throw the sheets I have scribbled on into the fire and the blottingpaper as well," ordered Cyril.
He felt rather proud of having thought of this detail, but withdetectives and pressmen prowling around he must run no risks. It waswith a very perturbed mind that Cyril finally went down to breakfast.
"Mrs. Eversley would like to speak to you, my lord, as soon asconvenient," said Douglas as his master rose from the table. Cyrilfancied he detected a gleam of suppressed excitement in the butler'seye.
"I'll see her at once," Cyril answered.
A stout, respectable-looking woman hesitated in the doorway.
"Come in, Mrs. Eversley," cried Cyril. "I'm glad to see you again. I'venever forgotten you or your doughnuts."
The troubled face broke into a pleased smile as the woman dropped acourtesy.
"It's very kind of you to remember them, my lord, very kind indeed, andglad I am to see you again." The smile vanished. "This is a terriblebusiness, my lord."
"Terrible," assented Cyril.
"His poor lordship! Mrs. Valdriguez has said for months and months thatsomething like this was sure to happen some day."
"Do you mean to say that she prophesied that her ladyship would kill hislordship?" exclaimed Cyril.
"Yes, my lord, indeed she did! It made me feel that queer when it really'appened."
"I should think so. It's most extraordinary."
"But begging your pardon, my lord, there is something special as made meask to speak to you--something I thought you ought to know immediately."
"What is it?" Cyril had felt that some new trouble was brewing.
"One of the servants has disappeared, my lord."
"Disappeared? How? When?"
"Perhaps I'm making too much of it, but this murder has that upset methat I'm afraid of my own shadow and I says to myself, says I: 'Don'twait; go and tell his lordship at once and he'll know whether it isimportant or not.'"
"You did perfectly right. But who has disappeared?"
"Priscilla Prentice and perhaps she hasn't disappeared at all. This ishow it is: The day before yesterday----"
"The day of the murder?" asked Cyril.
"Yes, my lord. Prentice came to me and asked if she could go to Newhavento see a cousin she has there. The cousin is ill--leastways so she toldme--and she wanted
as a great favour to be allowed to spend the nightwith her, and she promised to come back by the carrier early nextmorning. It seemed all right, so I gave her permission and off she goes.Then yesterday this dreadful thing happened and Prentice went clean outof my head. I never thought of her again till breakfast this morningwhen Mr. Douglas says to me: 'Why, wherever is Miss Prentice?' You could'ave knocked me down with a feather, I was that taken aback! So I says,'Whatever can 'ave happened to her?'"
"When she heard of the murder, she may have taken fright. She may bewaiting to return to the castle till the inquest and funeral are over,"suggested Cyril.
"Then she ought at least to have sent word. Besides she should have gotback before she could have heard of the murder."
"You had better send to the cousin's and find out if she is there. Shemay have been taken ill and had nobody to send a message by."
"We none of us know whereabouts this cousin lives, my lord."
"Newhaven is not a large place. It can't be difficult to find her."
"But we don't know her name, my lord."
"That certainly complicates matters. How long has this girl been at thecastle?"
"Six months, my lord."
"Who did you get her from?"
"I advertised for her, my lord. Mrs. Valdriguez's eyes are not what theywere and so she 'ad to have somebody to do the mending. I must sayforeigners sew beautifully, so it was some time before I could get anyone whose work suited Mrs. Valdriguez."
"What references did the girl give?"
"It was this way, my lord. She's very young, and this is her firstplace. But she was excellently recommended by Mr. Vaughan, vicar ofPlumtree, who wrote that she was a most respectable girl and that hecould vouch for her character. Those are his very words, my lord."
"That certainly sounded satisfactory."
"I'm glad you think so, my lord. So she came. Such a nice young womanshe seemed, so 'ard-working and conscientious; one who kept 'erself to'erself; never a word with the men--never, though she is so pretty."
"Oh, she is pretty, is she?" A faint but horrible suspicion flashedthrough Cyril's mind.
"Yes, my lord, as pretty as a picture."
"What does she look like?"
"She is tall and slight with dark hair and blue eyes," Mrs. Eversleyanswered. She was evidently taken aback at her master's interest in aservant's appearance and a certain reserve crept into her voice.
"Could she--would it be possible to mistake her for a lady?" stammeredCyril.
Mrs. Eversley started.
"Well, my lord, it's strange you should ask that, for Douglas, he alwayshas said, 'Mark my words, Miss Prentice isn't what she seems,' and Imust say she is very superior, very."
It wasn't, it couldn't be possible, thought Cyril; and yet----
"Did she see much of her ladyship?" he asked.
"Lately, Mrs. Valdriguez, seeing as what she was such a quiet girl, hasallowed her to put the things she has mended back into her ladyship'sroom, and I know her ladyship has spoken to her, but how often she hasdone so I couldn't really say. Prentice didn't talk much."
"Did she seem much interested in her ladyship?"
"At first very much so. If we were talking about her ladyship, she wouldalways stay and listen. Once, when one of the housemaids 'ad saidsomething about her being crazy, I think, Prentice got quite excited,and when Mrs. Valdriguez had left the room, she said to me, 'I don'tbelieve there is anything the matter with her ladyship; I think it justcruel the way she is kept locked up!' Begging your pardon, my lord,those were her very words. She made me promise not to repeat what shehad said--least of all to Mrs. Valdriguez, and I never have, not tillthis minute."
"Did she ever suggest that she would like to help her ladyship toescape?"
"Why, my lord!" exclaimed Mrs. Eversley, staring at her master inastonishment. "That's just what she did do, just once--oh, you don'tthink she did it! And yet that's what they're all saying----"
"Is anything missing from her room?" he asked.
"I can't say, my lord; her trunk is locked and she took a small bag withher. But there are things in the drawers and a skirt and a pair of shoesin the wardrobe."
"From the appearance of the room, therefore, you should judge that sheintended to return?"
"Ye-es, my lord--and yet I must say, I was surprised to see so fewthings about, and the skirt and shoes were very shabby."
"I suppose that by this time every one knows the girl is missing?" Cyrilasked.
"The upper servants do, and the detective was after me to tell him allabout her, but I wouldn't say a word till I had asked what yourlordship's wishes are."
"I thought Judson had left the castle?"
"So he has, my lord; this is the man from Scotland Yard. Griggs is hisname. He was 'ere before Judson, but he had left the castle before youarrived."
Impossible even to attempt, to keep her disappearance a secret, thoughtCyril. After all, perhaps she was not his _protegee_. He was alwaysjumping at erroneous conclusions, and a description is so misleading. Onthe other hand, the combination of black hair and blue eyes was a mostunusual one. Besides, it was already sufficiently remarkable that twoyoung and beautiful women had fled from Newhaven on the same day (beautybeing alas such a rarity!), but that three should have done so waswell-nigh incredible. But could even the most superior of upper servantspossess that air of breeding which was one of the girl's most noticeableattributes. It was, of course, within the bounds of possibility thatthis maid was well-born and simply forced by poverty into a menialposition. One thing was certain--if his _protegee_ was PriscillaPrentice, then this girl, in spite of her humble occupation, was a lady,and consequently more than ever in need of his protection and respect.
Well, assuming that it was Prentice he had rescued, what part had sheplayed in the tragedy? Why had she feared arrest? She must have beenpresent at the murder, but even in that case, why did she not realisethat Lady Wilmersley's unbalanced condition would prevent suspicion fromfalling on any one else? The police had never even thought of her! Andwhere had she hidden her mistress? It was all most mysterious.
Cyril sat weighing the _pros and cons_ of one theory after another,completely oblivious of his housekeeper's presence.
Douglas, entering, discreetly interrupted his cogitations:
"The inquest is about to begin, my lord."
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