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"Yes. Don't get up, Noel, you are too weak." Agnes pressed him back into the seat. "Twenty thousand for himself and five thousand for Chaldea."
"Chaldea! Chaldea! What has she got to do with the matter?"
"She holds the letter," said Agnes with a side-glance. "And being jealous of me, she intends to make me suffer, unless I buy her silence and the letter. Otherwise, according to Mr. Silver, she will show it to the police. I have seven days, more or less, in which to make up my mind. Either I must be blackmailed, or I must face the accusation."
Lambert heard only one word that struck him in this speech. "Why is Chaldea jealous of you?" he demanded angrily.
"I think you can best answer that question, Noel."
"I certainly can, and answer it honestly, too. Who told you about Chaldea?"
"Mr. Silver, for one, as I have just confessed. Clara Greeby for another. She said that the girl was sitting to you for some picture."
"Esmeralda and Quasimodo," replied the artist quickly. "You will find what I have done of the picture in the next room. But this confounded girl chose to fall in love with me, and since then I have declined to see her. I need hardly tell you, Agnes, that I gave her no encouragement."
"No, dear. I never for one moment supposed that you would."
"All the same, and in spite of my very plain speaking, she continues to haunt me, Agnes. I have avoided her on every occasion, but she comes daily to see Mrs. Tribb, and ask questions about my illness."
"Then, if she comes this afternoon, you must get that letter from her,"
was the reply. "I wish to see it."
"Silver declares that you wrote it?"
"He does. Chaldea showed it to him."
"It is in your handwriting?"
"So Mr. Silver declares."
Lambert rubbed the bristles of his three days' beard, and wriggled uncomfortably in his seat. "I can't gather much from these hints," he said with the fretful impatience of an invalid. "Give me a detailed account of this scoundrel's interview with you, and report his exact words if you can remember them, Agnes."
"I remember them very well. A woman does not forget such insults easily."
"d.a.m.n the beast!" muttered Lambert savagely. "Go on, dear."
Agnes patted his hand to soothe him, and forthwith related all that had pa.s.sed between her and the ex-secretary. Lambert frowned once or twice during the recital, and bit his lip with anger. Weak as he was, he longed for Silver to be within kicking distance, and it would have fared badly with the foxy little man had he been in the room at the moment.
When Agnes ended, her lover reflected for a few minutes.
"It's a conspiracy," he declared.
"A conspiracy, Noel?"
"Yes. Chaldea hates you because the fool has chosen to fall in love with me. The discovery of this letter has placed a weapon in her hand to do you an injury, and for the sake of money Silver is a.s.sisting her. I will do Chaldea the justice to say that I don't believe she asks a single penny for the letter. To spite you she would go at once to the police.
But Silver, seeing that there is money in the business, has prevented her doing so. As to this letter--" He stopped and rubbed his chin again vexedly.
"It must be a forgery."
"Without doubt, but not of your handwriting, I fancy, in spite of what this daring blackguard says. He informed you that the letter stated how you intended to elope with me on that night, and would leave The Manor by the blue door. Also, on the face of it, it would appear that you had written the letter to your husband, since otherwise it would not have been in his possession. You would not have given him such a hint had an elopement really been arranged."
Agnes frowned. "There was no chance of an elopement being arranged," she observed rather coldly.
"Of course not. You and I know as much, but I am looking at the matter from the point of view of the person who wrote the letter. It can't be your forged handwriting, for Pine would never have believed that you would put him on the track as it were. No, Agnes. Depend upon it, the letter was a warning sent by some sympathetic friend, and is probably an anonymous one."
Agnes nodded meditatively. "You may be right, Noel. But who wrote to Hubert?"
"We must see the letter and find out."
"But if it is my forged handwriting?"
"I don't believe it is," said Lambert decisively. "No conspirator would be so foolish as to conduct his plot in such a way. However, Chaldea has the letter, according to Silver, and we must make her give it up. She is sure to be here soon, as she always comes bothering Mrs. Tribb in the afternoon about my health. Just ring that hand-bell, Agnes."
"Do you think Chaldea wrote the letter?" she asked, having obeyed him.
"No. She has not the education to forge, or even to write decently."
"Perhaps Mr. Silver--but no. I taxed him with setting the trap, and he declared that Hubert was more benefit to him alive than dead, which is perfectly true. Here is Mrs. Tribb, Noel."
Lambert turned his head. "Has that gypsy been here to-day?" he asked sharply.
"Not yet, Master Noel, but there's no saying when she may come, for she's always hanging round the house. I'd tar and feather her and slap and pinch her if I had my way, say what you like, my lady. I've no patience with gals of that free-and-easy, light-headed, b.u.t.ter-won't-melt-in-your-mouth kind."
"If she comes to-day, show her in here," said Lambert, paying little attention to Mrs. Tribb's somewhat German speech of mouth-filling words.
The housekeeper's black eyes twinkled, and she opened her lips, then she shut them again, and looking at Lady Agnes in a questioning way, trotted out of the room. It was plain that Mrs. Tribb knew of Chaldea's admiration for her master, and could not understand why he wished her to enter the house when Lady Agnes was present. She did not think it a wise thing to apply fire to gunpowder, which, in her opinion, was what Lambert was doing.
There ensued silence for a few moments. Then Agnes, staring into the fire, remarked in a musing manner, "I wonder who did shoot Hubert. Mr.
Silver would not have done so, as it was to his interest to keep him alive. Do you think that to hurt me, Noel, Chaldea might have--"
"No! No! No! It was to her interest also that Pine should live, since she knew that I could not marry you while he was alive."
Agnes nodded, understanding him so well that she did not need to ask for a detailed explanation. "It could not have been any of those staying at The Manor," she said doubtfully, "since every one was indoors and in bed. Garvington, of course, only broke poor Hubert's arm under a misapprehension. Who could have been the person in the shrubbery?"
"Silver hints that I am the individual," said Lambert grimly.
"Yes, he does," a.s.sented Lady Agnes quickly. "I declared that you were in London, but he said that you returned on that night to this place."
"I did, worse luck. I went to town, thinking it best to be away while Pine was in the neighborhood, and--"
"You knew that Hubert was a gypsy and at the camp?" interrupted Agnes in a nervous manner, for the information startled her.
"Yes! Chaldea told me so, when she was trying to make me fall in love with her. I did not tell you, as I thought that you might be vexed, although I dare say I should have done so later. However, I went to town in order to prevent trouble, and only returned for that single night. I went back to town next morning very early, and did not hear about the murder until I saw a paragraph in the evening papers. Afterwards I came down to the funeral because Garvington asked me to, and I thought that you would like it."
"Why did you come back on that particular night?"
"My dear Agnes, I had no idea that Hubert would be murdered on that especial night, so did not choose it particularly. I returned because I had left behind a parcel of your letters to me when we were engaged. I fancied that Chaldea might put Hubert up to searching the cottage while I was away, and if he had found those letters he would have been more jealous than ever, as you can easily understand."
"No, I can't understand," flashed out Agnes sharply. "Hubert knew that we loved one another, and that I broke the engagement to save the family. I told him that I could not give him the affection he desired, and he was content to marry me on those terms. The discovery of letters written before I became his wife would not have caused trouble, since I was always loyal to him. There was no need for you to return, and your presence here on that night lends color to Mr. Silver's accusation."