The Middle of Things

by J. S. Fletcher

  CHAPTER XIV

  THE ELLINGHAM MOTTO

  Viner looked over Mr. Pawle's shoulder at the letters--there were numbersof them, all neatly folded and arranged; a faint scent of dried flowersrose from them as the old lawyer spread them out on the desk.

  "Which Countess of Ellingham, and which Lord Marketstoke?" asked Viner."There have been--must have been--several during the last century."

  "The Lord Marketstoke I mean is the one who disappeared," answered Mr.Pawle. "We've no concern with any other. Look at these dates! We knowthat if he were living, he would now be a man of sixty-one or so;therefore, he'd be at school about forty-five years ago. Now, look here,"he went on, rapidly turning the letters over. "Compare these dates--theyrun through two or three years; they were all of forty-three to forty-sixyears since. You see how they're signed--you see how they're addressed?There's no doubt about it, Viner--this is a collection of letters writtenby the seventh Countess of Ellingham to her elder son, Lord Marketstoke,when he was at Eton."

  "How came they into Ashton's possession, I wonder!" asked Viner.

  "It's all of a piece!" exclaimed Mr. Pawle. "All of a piece withAshton's visit to Marketstoke--all of a piece with the facts that Avicewas a favourite name with the Cave-Gray family, and that one of theholders of the title married a Wickham. Viner, there's no doubtwhatever--in my mind--that either Ashton was Lord Marketstoke or that heknew the man who was!"

  "You remember what Armitstead told us," remarked Viner. "That Ashton toldhim, in Paris, that he, Ashton, hailed from Lancashire?"

  "Then--he knew the missing man, and got these papers from him!" declaredthe old lawyer. "But why? Ah!--now I have an idea! It may be thatMarketstoke, dying out there in Australia, handed these things to Ashtonand asked him to give them to some members of the Cave-Grayfamily--perhaps an aunt, or a cousin, or so on--and that Ashton went downto Marketstoke to find out what relations were still in existence. Thatmay be it--that would solve the problem!"

  "No!" said Viner with sudden emphasis. He made sure that the door of thelittle room was closed, and then went up to the old lawyer's elbow. "Isthat really all you can think of?" he asked, with a keen glance. "As forme--why, I'm thinking of something that seems absolutely--obvious!"

  "What, then?" demanded Mr. Pawle. "Tell me!"

  Viner pointed towards the door.

  "Haven't we heard already, that a man named Wickham handed over hisdaughter Avice to Ashton's care and guardianship?" he asked. "Doesn'tthat seem to be an established fact?"

  "No doubt of it!" assented Mr. Pawle. "Well?"

  "In my opinion," said Viner, quietly, "Wickham was the missing Lord ofMarketstoke!"

  Mr. Pawle, who was still turning over the letters, examining their dates,let them slip out of his hands and gasped.

  "By George!" he exclaimed in a wondering voice. "It may be--possibly is!Then, in that case, that girl outside there--"

  "Well?" asked Viner, after a pause.

  Mr. Pawle made a puzzled gesture and shook his head, as if in amazement.

  "In that case, if Wickham was the missing Lord Marketstoke, and this girlis his daughter, she's--" He broke off, and became still more puzzled."Upon my honour," he exclaimed, "I don't know who she is!"

  "What do you mean?" asked Viner. "She's his daughter, ofcourse--Wickham's. Only, in that case--I mean, if he was really LordMarketstoke--her proper name, I suppose, is Cave-Gray."

  Mr. Pawle looked his young assistant over with an amused expression.

  "You haven't the old practitioner's _flair_, Viner, my boy!" he said."When one's got to my age, and seen a number of queer things andhappenings, one's quick to see possible cases. Look here!--if Wickhamwas really Lord Marketstoke, and that girl across the hall is hisdaughter, she's probably--I say probably, for I don't know if thesuccession in this case goes with the female line--Countess ofEllingham, in her own right!"

  Viner looked his surprise.

  "Is that really so--would it be so?" he asked.

  "It may be--I'm not sure," replied Mr. Pawle. "As I say, I don't knowhow the succession runs in this particular instance. There are, as youare aware, several peeresses in their own rights--twenty-four or five, atleast. Some are very ancient peerages. I know that three--Furnivale andFauconberg and Conyers--go right back to the thirteenth century; threeothers--Beaumont, Darcy da Knayth, and Zorch of Haryngworth--date fromthe fourteenth. I'm not sure of this Ellingham peerage--but I'll find outwhen I get back to my office. However, granting the premises, and if thepeerage does continue in the female line, it will be as I say--thisgirl's the rightful holder of the title!"

  Viner made no immediate answer and Mr. Pawle began to put up the lettersin their original wrappings.

  "Regular romance, isn't it--if it is so?" he exclaimed. "Extraordinary!"

  "Shall you tell her?" asked Viner.

  Mr. Pawle considered the direct question while he completed his task.

  "No," he said at last, "not at present. She evidently knows nothing, andshe'd better be left in complete ignorance for a while. You see, Viner,as I've pointed out to you several times, there isn't a paper or adocument of any description extant which refers to her. Nothing in myhands, nothing in the banker's hands, nothing here! And yet, supposingher father, Wickham, to have been Lord Marketstoke, and to have entrustedhis secret to Ashton at the same time that he gave him the guardianshipof his daughter, he must have given Ashton papers to prove his and heridentity--must! Where are they?"

  "Do you know what I think?" said Viner. "I think--if I'm to put it inplain language--that Ashton carried those papers on him, and that he wasmurdered for the possession of them!"

  Mr. Pawle nodded, and put the packet of letters in his pocket.

  "I shouldn't be surprised," he answered. "It's a very probable theory,my boy. But it presupposes one thing, and makes one horribly suspiciousof another."

  "Yes?" inquired Viner.

  "It presupposes that Ashton let somebody into the secret," replied Mr.Pawle, "and it makes one suspect that the person to whom he did reveal ithad such personal interest in suppressing it that he went to the lengthof murdering Ashton before Ashton could tell it to any one else. How doesthat strike you, Viner?"

  "It's this--and not the diamond!" declared Viner doggedly. "I've a sortof absolute intuition that I'm right."

  "I think so too," assented the old lawyer, dryly. "Thefifty-thousand-pound diamond is a side-mine. Very well, now we know alot, you and I. And, we're going to solve matters. And we're not going tosay a word to this young lady, at present--that's settled. But I want toask her some questions--come along."

  He led the way across the hall to the dining-room where a reminder ofAshton's death met his and Viner's view as soon as they had crossed thethreshold. The funeral was to take place next day, and Mrs. Killenhalland Miss Wickham were contemplating a massive wreath of flowers which hadevidently just arrived from the florist's and been deposited on thecentre-table.

  "All we can do for him, you know!" murmured Mrs. Killenhall, with aglance at the two men. "He--he had so few friends here, poor man!"

  "That remark, ma'am," observed Mr. Pawle, "is apropos of a subject that Iwant to ask Miss Wickham two or three questions about. Friends, now? MissWickham, you always understood that Mr. Ashton and your father were veryclose friends, I believe?"

  "I always understood so--yes, Mr. Pawle," replied Miss Wickham.

  "Did he ever tell you much about your father?"

  "No, very little indeed. He never told me more than that they knew eachother very well, in Australia, that my father died out there,comparatively young, and that he left me in his, Mr. Ashton's care."

  "Did he ever tell you whether your father left you any money?" demandedthe old lawyer.

  Miss Wickham looked surprised.

  "Oh, yes!" she answered. "I thought you'd know that. My father left me agood deal of money. Didn't Mr. Ashton tell you?"

  "Never a word!" said Mr. Pawle. "Now--where is it, then?"

  "In my bank," re
plied Miss Wickham promptly. "The London and Universal.When Mr. Ashton fetched me away from school and brought me here, he toldme that he had twelve thousand pounds of mine which my father had leftme, and he handed it over to me then and there, and took me to the Londonand Universal Bank, where I opened an account with it."

  "Spent any of it?" asked Mr. Pawle dryly.

  "Only a few pounds," answered Miss Wickham.

  The old solicitor glanced at Viner, who, while these private matters werebeing inquired into, was affecting to examine the pictures on the walls.

  "Most extraordinary!" he muttered. "All this convinces me that Ashtonmust have had papers and documents! These must have been--however, wedon't know where they are. But there would surely be, for instance, yourfather's will, Miss Wickham. I suppose you've never seen such adocument? No, to be sure! You left all to Ashton. Well, now, do youremember your father?"

  "Only just--and very faintly, Mr. Pawle," replied Miss Wickham. "You mustremember I was little more than five years old."

  "Can you remember what he was like?"

  "I think he was a big, tall man--but it's a mere impression."

  "Listen!" said Mr. Pawle. "Did you ever, at any time, hear Mr. Ashtonmake any reference--I'm talking now of the last few weeks--to theEllingham family, or to the Earl of Ellingham?"

  "Never!" replied Miss Wickham. "Never heard of them. He never--"

  Mrs. Killenhall was showing signs of a wish to speak, and Mr. Pawleturned to her.

  "Have you, ma'am?" he asked.

  "Yes," said Mrs. Killenhall, "I have! It was one night when Miss Wickhamwas out--you were at Mrs. Murray-Sinclair's, my dear--and Mr. Ashton andI dined alone. He asked me if I remembered the famous Ellingham case,some years ago--something about the succession to the title--he said he'dread it in the Colonial papers. Of course, I remembered it very well."

  "Well, ma'am," said Mr. Pawle, "and what then?"

  "I think that was all," answered Mrs. Killenhall. "He merely remarkedthat it was an odd case, and said no more."

  "What made him mention it?" asked Mr. Pawle.

  "Oh, we'd been talking about romances of the peerage," replied Mrs.Killenhall. "I had told him of several."

  "You're well up in the peerage, ma'am?" suggested the old lawyer.

  "I know my Burke and my Debrett pretty thoroughly," said Mrs. Killenhall."Very interesting, of course."

  Mr. Pawle, who was sitting close to Miss Wickham, suddenly pointed to agold locket which she wore.

  "Where did you get that, my dear?" he asked. "Unusual device, isn't it?"

  "Mr. Ashton gave it to me, a few weeks ago," answered Miss Wickham. "Hesaid it had belonged to my father."

  The old lawyer bent nearer, looked more closely at the locket, and gotup.

  "Elegant old thing!" he said. "Not made yesterday, that! Well, ladies,you will see me, for this very sad occasion"--he waved a hand at thewreath of flowers--"tomorrow. In the meantime, if there is anything youwant done, our young friend here is close at hand. Just now, however, Iwant him."

  "Viner," observed Pawle when they had left the house, "it's very odd howunobservant some people are! Now, there's that woman we've just left,Mrs. Killenhall, who says that she's well up in her Debrett, and herBurke,--and there, seen by her many a time, is that locket which MissWickham is wearing, and she's never noticed it! Never, I mean, noticedwhat's on it. Why, I saw it--and its significance--instantly, just now,which was the first time I'd seen it!"

  "What is it that's on it?" asked Viner.

  "After we came back from Marketstoke," replied Mr. Pawle, "I looked upthe Cave-Gray family and their peerage. That locket bears their deviceand motto. The device is a closed fist, grasping a handful of blades ofwheat; the motto is _Have and Hold_. Viner, as sure as fate, that girl'sfather was the missing Lord Marketstoke, and Ashton knew the secret! I'mconvinced of it--I'm positive of it. And now see the extraordinaryposition in which we're all placed. Ashton's dead, and there isn't onescrap of paper to show what it was that he really knew. Nothing--not onewritten line!"

  "Because, as I said before, he was murdered for his papers," affirmedViner. "I'm sure of that as you are of the rest."

  "I dare say you're right," agreed Mr. Pawle. "But, as _I've_ saidbefore, that presupposes that Ashton told somebody the secret.Now--who? Was it the man he was with in Paris? And if so, who is thatman? But it's useless speculating. I've made up my mind to a certaincourse, Viner. Tomorrow, after the funeral, I'm going to call on thepresent Lord Ellingham--his town house is in Hertford Street, and Iknow he's in town--and ask him if he has heard anything of a mysteriousnature relating to his long-missing uncle. We may hear something--youcome with me."

  Next day, toward the middle of the afternoon, Mr. Pawle and Viner got outof a taxicab in Park Lane and walked down Hertford Street, the old lawyerexplaining the course he was about to take.

  "This is a young man--not long come of age," he said. "He'll be quitewell acquainted, however, with the family history, and if anything'shappened lately, I dare say I can get him to talk. He--What is it?"

  Viner had suddenly gripped his companion's arm and pulled him to a halt.He was looking ahead--at the house at which they were about to call. Andthere, just being shown out by a footman, was the man whom he had seen atthe old-fashioned tavern in Notting Hill, and with him a tall,good-looking man whom he had never seen before.