Daisy Ashford: Her Book Part 36

"Lord Beaufort?" repeated Helen, "I have heard the name before."

"Yes you have" said the nurse, "Miss Lincarrol is here you know, and her brother, and your old servant Mrs. Marshland, so you see no one has deserted you."

"Except Cyril" sighed Helen.

"You must not think of that now" replied the nurse soothingly, "all you have to do is rest and keep quiet; I expect Miss Lincarrol will be up soon, she has come twice already only you were asleep, now take your medicine and then lay quiet; you will hear all the story soon from other lips than mine."

Thus rea.s.sured Helen took her cooling draught and lay down, patiently awaiting any visitor who would enlighten her as to past events. Her thoughts naturally enough wandered back to the episode of Cyril's departure and she was getting extremely restless, much to the nurse's dismay, when the door softly opened and Gladys appeared in the room.

With a smile she instantly ran to the bedside and Helen tried to raise herself to greet her friend, but her head instantly swam round and she fell back on the pillow, white and gasping. The nurse gave her a dose of medicine and she quickly came to herself again.

"You must not try to exert yourself too much" said the nurse kindly, "it will do you no good, and will only hinder your recovery."

"Very well" said Helen faintly, "but how is it I get so queer?"

"Because your head is in a weak state" replied the nurse, "and it will probable injure you very much to rampage."

It would take too long to relate the history of Helen's illness as Helen heard it from Gladys's lips, with all the details and exagertions, so we will go back a little bit and see what happened after Helen swooned away.

CHAPTER 27

THE CONTENTS OF THE CHEST

As soon as Netherby (the clerk) saw what had happened he at once called for Marshland, who was sitting in the parlour in a state of utter collapse. On hearing that her precious Miss Helen had fainted, the good old woman ran at once to the office room.

Helen lay perfectly white and still upon the floor with Cyril's fatal letter clenched in her hand. Marshland instantly knelt down and placed her head at Helen's heart. "She is not dead" she cried triumphantly.

"What can we do?" asked Netherby in a shaky voice.

"I'll tell you" said Marshland getting up off the floor, you must take a cab and drive as fast as you can to Portman Square number 26, Miss Lincarrol is staying there with Lord Beaufort and I think her brother too; they are all staunch friends of Miss Helen's I know they will come at once, we can make no move, friendless as we are, without the help of Mr. Lincarrol or some one."

"Stop a bit" cried Netherby regaining his courage all of a sudden; something tells me the story Mr. Sheene speaks of in his letter is somewhere in the private chest, and as it is evidently meant for Miss Winston's private reading, I'll trouble you Mr. Wilson to let those papers alone and give me up the key."

"What right have you to the key any more than me?" asked Wilson sullenly.

"None I suppose" replied Netherby "but I know that you are subjecting yourself to the penalty of the law by ransacking that private chest, "I shall inform the police if you dont instantly deliver the key."

Netherby's altered manner rather cowed Wilson so very sulkily he gave up the key.

Then with a set determination Netherby collected all the papers etc: which Wilson had strewn over the desks tying them firmly together placed them back in the chest.

"Have you any more?" asked he before locking the chest.

"No" stoutly declared Mr. Wilson.

"I'm not so eager to belive you" replied Netherby.

"Why not?" enquired Wilson savagely.

"Because you're not extra fond of the truth" replied Netherby "and I'd rather satisfy myself that you have no more papers about you before I lock the chest."

"You'd better dare lay a finger on me" hissed Wilson.

"I dont want to" replied Netherby "but if you really have taken nothing, what is your objection to letting me see the contents of your pocket?"

"Oh I'll let you see the contents drawled Wilson and he proceeded to place a few articles on the desk.

Netherby was beginning to satisfy himself it was alright, when he noticed Wilson shuffling about with the inner pocket of his coat.

"Hurry up" exclaimed Netherby impatiently.

"Alright" cried Wilson nervously drawing out a rather dirty handkerchief; but fate was against him and with the handkerchief came a roll of bank notes.

Marshland gave a cry as she beheld the sight of the unhappy Wilson slink into a corner.

Netherby collected the notes placed them in the desk and without a word put on his hat and went out. In less that five minutes he returned accompanied by two policemen, who on a sign from Netherby advanced to Wilson and before the astonished man could say a word he found himself handcuffed and carefully guarded by the two officials.

Netherby and Marshland then gave an exact account of what had taken place and Netherby ended by saying "you see Wilson if you had shut the chest when I told you and concealed nothing I should have been the last to call the police, but when it came to robbing the chest in justice to Miss Winston I had to do my duty."

Wilson was too utterly dazed to say a word, and in a few moments Netherby, not liking to leave the house sent a messenger to portman Square.

In a couple of hours a cab drew up at the door, and out got Lawrence Lincarrol, Lord Beaufort, and a short thin man, who turned out to be Cyril Sheene's solicitor.

On hearing the story, Lord Beaufort said that Helen was to be taken at once to his house and that Marshland should accompany her. Accordingly the unconscious girl was lifted into the brougham and accompanied by the old servant drove off. "Your things shall be sent on" said Lord Beaufort to Marshland as he helped her into the cab "and a trained nurse shall be got for Miss Winston, meanwhile my servants quite understand what is to be done."

Then the cab drove off and Lord Beaufort entered the office.

Lawrence and Mr. Spriggs (the solicitor) were both busy interviewing Netherby, who now that he had done his duty and shown much good sence had relapsed into his old nervous state.

We had here better describe Lord Beaufort and Mr. Spriggs.

Lord Beaufort was a half Spaniard, his mother being of that nationality and his father (who was dead) an Englishman.

He took after his mother in looks. He was moderately tall and thin and might have been eight and thirty. He had straight black hair and beard and moustache, to match, the former being small and well cut, not the bushy kind. His handsome dark eyes were quite those of a foreigner and his teeth were beautifully white. He was particularly well dressed and even to his boots.

Very different indeed was Mr. Spriggs. A thin wiry little man about 5 feet 2 inches, with thin sandy coloured hair (a trifle bald), twinkly little blue eyes, a very pink face and carroty coloured moustache. He was attired in a rough tweed suit with knickaboccers, a turn down collar, very untidily put on, thick grey stockings, clumping boots, a green tie, and a dear stalker cap drawn well on to his head.

"Well the first thing to be done" said Mr. Spriggs in jerky tones "is to open the chest, and I being the solicitor will proceed to do it," and he stalked accross the room with a very high and mighty air and made a great commotion with the keys.

The chest being opened the contents were carefully examined. A blue envelope was first opened and contained the following information.

"This is to say that I, Cyril Sheene leave all my money, which is all in bank notes to my intended Helen Winston; it is not very much and does not exceed 150 but still I hope it will do as I can't afford any more.

Dated August 11th."