The Sapphire Cross Part 19

He staggered again, as the blood flew to his head, in his vain endeavours to piece together the sc.r.a.ps of the puzzle, so as to make a defined whole. But once more, with an effort, he shook off the weakness, and, stooping down, he scooped up some water in the hollow of his hand, and bathed his face, for he was now alone, the servants who had accompanied him having borne the two insensible men to the house.

The next minute the boat returned, and her prow struck the bank.

"Well?" said Sir Murray, eagerly, for the men were alone.

"He's gone, sir," said the groom, solemnly. "The piles are very slippery, and the poor fellow, whoever he was, could hold on no longer.

We've been feeling about with the sculls, but we can't find him."

Again that rus.h.i.+ng of blood to the head and the choking sensation, and Sir Murray Gernon gasped for air, as he staggered about like a drunken man.

Could it be possible? Was it Norton, and was he removed from his path?--removed by his own act while engaged in some nefarious scheme?

For a few moments a strange sense of mingled exultation and horror oppressed the baronet, and he stood staring vacantly in the faces of his servants.

Would he like them to go and try again? though, as the water was so deep, there was not much chance of finding the poor fellow till morning.

Yes, he would like them to go; and he would come with them himself; and, entering the boat, Sir Murray made the weary men row on and on, backwards and forwards, through the two openings of the wooden bridge, as, armed himself with the weed-grapnel in the prow, he dragged it over the same ground again and again, expecting at each check it received that it was hooked in the body of the man whom he looked upon as the blight of his existence.

At length, the men being completely worn out, the search was given up till daylight, and Sir Murray returned to the Castle, to find McCray sitting up in bed with a blanket round him, sipping whisky and water, hot and strong.

"Gude sake, Sir Mooray!" he exclaimed, as his master entered. "We won the day. I ken a' aboot it--how ye shot one and took the ither; and Jock Gurdon's coming round--the villin!--and no more dead than I am.

But it had got verra close to the end, Sir Mooray."

"My brave fellow!" exclaimed his master--"you did n.o.bly."

"Hoot! just naething at a', Sir Mooray. But winna ye try the whuskee?"

"No, my good fellow. But I don't know how I am to reward you."

"Hoot! then, Sir Mooray, I'll just tell ye," said the Scot, whose eye was even now on the main chance. "Tam Wilkins is a gude servant, but he's auld, and past the gairden. Suppose ye mak' me head-gairdener, and give Jenny Barker a hint that she'd better marry me as soon as we've transported Jock Gurdon."

"My good fellow, I'll stand your friend, depend upon it," said the baronet, smiling in spite of himself. But the next moment he frowned heavily, as he said, in a low voice: "Do you know who it was that saved you?"

"No, Sir Mooray, unless it was one of the lads in the bit skiff. But this is rare whuskee, Sir Mooray!"

Sir Murray frowned more deeply before speaking again.

"Did you see any one with the villain you so n.o.bly captured? Though how you came to suspect the attack I don't know."

"Not a soul; only the two ye've taken, Sir Mooray," said Sandy, reddening, perhaps from the effect of the whisky. "And as to suspecting, I have no suspicion in me; but I jist like to see of a night that naebody's after the grapes or bit of wall-fruit, for Tam Wilkins is getting past minding it."

There was nothing more to be learned here, and, day breaking soon after, Sir Murray summoned two more of his men--a couple who had not been so hara.s.sed--and proceeded once more to drag the lake, more a.s.sistance and better implements being at the same time sent for.

But first he had himself rowed carefully over the water, peering down as he went, but the dragging had fouled the lake, so that this was soon given up as useless, and Sir Murray was about once more to lower the grapnel, when one of the men pointed out, with scared face, what appeared to be the body of a man floating at a short distance.

To reach the spot took but a few moments, and one of the men reached over to draw in a coat and vest, saturated, so that it was a wonder they could have floated.

"His clothes, Sir Murray," said the man, lifting up the coat, when, from the breast, a packet of letters fell out, the directions blurred with the action of the water; but on two of them plainly enough could still be read:

_Captain Norton_, _Merland Hall_.

Book 1, Chapter x.x.x.

GURDON'S LOT.

"Let the lake be dragged until the body is found," said Sir Murray Gernon, "and set me ash.o.r.e."

The men obeyed, and watched their master with wondering eyes as he strode off towards the house, his brow knit, and head bent, for he wanted to be alone and to think.

Here was, he told himself, an awful confirmation of his suspicions; and now, rid of one enemy to his peace, he wanted to consider what should be his next step.

All that day he kept himself shut in his own room, merely giving a few instructions to his servants respecting the course to be taken with the prisoners, who were soon handed over into the custody of the police.

But, as might have been expected, Sir Murray Gernon could not fit together the pieces of the puzzle: he could not in his heart conclude that Norton had been a.s.sociated with the burglarious party, and he was still brooding over the matter, when a note was placed in his hands--one which made him start as if stung by some venomous beast, and sit staring, with dilated eyes, till rage and disappointment got the better of surprise.

The note was very short, too, and merely to the effect that Captain Norton, while pa.s.sing the park palings on the previous night, had heard an appeal for help, and had taken the liberty of trespa.s.sing that he might render some aid; but in the darkness and haste to get home and change his wet things, he had lost a portion of his clothes, containing letters of importance. Would Sir Murray Gernon kindly give orders that, if found, they might be restored?

Sir Murray Gernon sat for some minutes staring blankly at the paper as he mastered its contents. Here, then, was proof in the man's own handwriting that he had trespa.s.sed upon the Castle grounds on the previous night--but for what?

Reason gave the answer at once, but suspicion refused the explanation.

There must have been some underhanded motive. Lady Gernon was dressed: she had not been to bed. Could it be that an evasion had been planned and interrupted by the fortuitous visit of the burglars? It must be so; and, feeling that he was now upon the right scent, Sir Murray determined to double his precautions, and acting on that determination, he stooped more and more to the meanness of acting the part of spy.

He would have challenged Norton to meet him again and again, but he told himself, with a grim smile, that he was a poltroon--as great a coward as ever breathed--and he felt more bitter than ever against him. It seemed to Sir Murray that he had been hoaxed--that he had been made the object of a trick that should for a few hours make him believe in Norton's death. He could not see that the acting of such a purposeless part would have been insensate to a degree, and that it was all due to the strength of his own imagination--an imagination now ever running riot in its wild theorising.

Norton might have smiled could he have read Sir Murray's heart, in spite of the anger and pain he would have felt. For his own part, he had, on reaching the footway of the bridge, stood thoughtful for a few moments, and then, hearing Sir Murray's voice, had come to the conclusion that the better plan would be to hurry away, and so avoid an encounter, feeling sure that his acts would be, in some way or other, misconstrued.

He trusted that it would be supposed he had made his way to a place of safety; but, at all events, he was determined not to meet the baronet, and therefore proceeded quickly homewards, little thinking of the conclusions that would be arrived at, till towards the evening of the day following, when he recalled the fact that his recognition was certain in consequence of the clothes he had lost, the result being that he sent the note above alluded to. The writing of this note involved a full account to Mrs Norton of the night's adventure, to her great discomfort, for beyond a bare outline given in explanation of the wet clothes, Mrs Norton had known little of the state of affairs. By degrees, though, that day the news of the attempted burglary had reached the Hall, and Norton comprehended the cause of the cry for help to which he had so opportunely responded. At the same time, though, he could not but regret that he had been the instrument called upon to save the men's lives, the uneasiness brought upon him by the incident being excessive-- an uneasiness fully shared, though in silence, by his wife.

Events in the life of Mr John Gurdon about this time began to succeed each other with great rapidity. An examination before the county magistrates resulted in his committal, and the a.s.sizes coming on within a month, the ex-butler stood his trial. The evidence was too strong against him; he had been, as it were, taken red-handed, and, with his companions, was condemned to cross the seas to a land where there should be fewer temptations for him. The judge, taking all things into consideration, seemed to think that Gurdon's crime was more heinous even than that of his companions, and visited it accordingly; for, while the other two men were sentenced to transportation for fourteen years, John Gurdon's sentence was almost equivalent to condemnation for life, inasmuch as he was to be exiled for twenty years.

"All right, gentlemen--all right," he said, coolly; "but I shall come back again. And as for you, Sir Murray Gernon, I'll bear you in mind till my return; for I've not done with you and yours."

"Remove him at once!" said the judge, and a couple of officers seized the prisoner, and hurried him from the dock.

"And now, don't be too hard on me, la.s.sie," said McCray, the day after the trial--for he had managed to encounter Jane in one of the pa.s.sages--"don't be hard upon me, la.s.sie, for I only did my duty."

"I know--I know," said Jane, sadly; "but please don't talk to me now."

"Weel, weel, I know that your puir heart's sair yet, la.s.sie, and I won't talk aboot sic things; but talk to ye I must, aboot something."

"You're as bad as a woman, Mr McCray," said Jane, pettishly.

"I only wish I was half as good as one woman I ken," said Sandy, gallantly. "But hoot, la.s.sie, I'm glad to see the Squire's coming round. He brought her leddys.h.i.+p with him into the garden yestreen, and told her he'd make me the head-gairdener, and the puir thing leuked as bright and happy as could be; and, dye ken, la.s.sie, I think we're going to hae bright times again at the Castle, and I'm aboot setting things reet, and I'll be as busy as busy, day after day; but ye'll see me a bit o' nichts?"

"Did Sir Murray speak kindly to her ladys.h.i.+p?" said Jane anxiously.

"Kind! ay," said Sandy; "and she turned to him directly, and laid her hand upon his arm, and they strolled off together behind the bushes, and he pa.s.sed his arm round her--so, Jenny--and stooped him down, and kissed her--just as I'm showing of ye--there, just on her bonnie cheek, like that; for they didna ken I could see."

As Sandy McCray gave his description with ill.u.s.trations, Jane started angrily away.