The Red Window Part 16

"I don't understand," stammered Conniston, while Durham, giving up Miss Plantagenet as impossible, sat shuffling his papers.

"You ought not to be dense. Don't you remember me boxing your ears?"

Conniston burst out laughing. "Oh! by Jove! It's Cousin Berengaria."

"Aunt Berengaria," reproved Miss Plantagenet, giving him her hand. "I don't like league-long names. Come and sit down and tell me all about yourself."

"Miss Plantagenet," said Durham, hastily. "Lord Conniston and I have met to talk of Bernard."

"Then I'll form a third," said the old lady, sitting. "d.i.c.k--I shall call you d.i.c.k," she interpolated--"you are Bernard's friend, as his letter to Alice was all about you. Are you going to desert him?"

"No," said Conniston, taking her entirely into his confidence. "I have chucked the service to see him through his trouble."

"Chucked what service?"

"The army. I was going to the front. But I'll stop till I prove the innocence of Bernard, Aunt Berengaria."

"You don't know that he is alive, Conniston," said the lawyer.

"Ah, but I do," replied d.i.c.k. "Here's a letter from Bernard. He is safe and sound hiding at Cove Castle."

CHAPTER VIII

BERNARD'S ENEMIES

The deceased baronet was buried in the family vault under St. Peter's Church, with all the pomp of wealth. Sir Simon had never been popular, and had been known widely as a hard, gripping man. Yet his tragic fate, and a certain pity therefore, had drawn together a large concourse of people. Distant relatives who hoped to be mentioned in the will were present clothed in deepest black, although they cared very little for the dead. Julius, who already regarded himself as in possession of Gore Hall, was there with a long face and a satisfied heart. He was glad that he had inherited the wealth after which he had long hungered, and gladder still that his rival, Bernard, was dead with a stain on his name. In fancied security he moved along, not knowing what retribution was in store for him. Even the pitying angels must have laughed at his complacency.

Durham, as the solicitor and executor of the dead man, was present and directed operations. Conniston had gone to Cove Castle to see Bernard and hear his story; and Durham smiled as his eyes rested on the smug face of the presumed heir. There was no love lost between the two men, and Julius privately determined that, when in possession of the property, he would place the legal business in the hands of another solicitor. The young lawyer guessed somewhat of this, and smiled ironically as he thought how this spite would be frustrated.

From far and near people were gathered, for the murder had made a great stir. Everyone united in condemning Bernard, and not one person in the throng thought him innocent. Lucy was weeping alone at the Hall, with Mrs. Gilroy offering her such cold comfort as she could think of. For the girl was truly sorry for her cousin, although she believed him to be guilty. But her theory was that Bernard had been goaded into committing the rash act by the bitter tongue of his grandfather. It was a matter of disagreement between her and Julius that she should so mourn the downfall and death of Bernard. He reprovingly advised her to keep her tears for Sir Simon, from whose death both were likely to derive benefit. But Lucy, in spite of Beryl's evil influence, which had rather warped her better nature, persisted in weeping for the miserable cousin who had so suddenly been cut off in the midst of his wickedness. At least that--in the face of circ.u.mstances--was the view she took of the matter.

And Alice remained at The Bower, talking over the death with Miss Plantagenet. Her joy, when the old lady returned with the good news that Bernard was yet alive, had been painful to witness. She wished to go at once to Cove Castle, but this Miss Berengaria, by Durham's advice, would not permit. Suspicion might be excited, so it was decided that Conniston himself should visit his own castle, as that would seem a natural thing for him to do. The merest suspicion that Bernard was alive and in hiding would set the bloodhounds of the law on the trail, and Beryl would be the first to loosen them. Therefore, Alice waited at home with Miss Berengaria until the funeral was over. Then they intended to go to the Hall to hear the will read. Miss Berengaria had some idea of the punishment that awaited Julius, and would not have been absent for half of her income. She detested the young man with all the virulence of her honest nature. And she insisted on Alice coming also, although the girl was unwilling. This again was by Durham's advice. He wanted both ladies to understand exactly how matters stood. It would save him the trouble of an explanation. And then, since he and the two ladies and Conniston were bent upon proving Bernard's innocence, Durham wanted all who could be spared--which did not include Conniston to be present, so as to daunt Bernard's enemies. Should Julius lose his temper over the will, it was probable that he might say something likely to afford a clue to the true a.s.sa.s.sin. And then Mrs. Gilroy was an enemy also, and she might be unguarded in her speech. Durham had a vague idea that both knew more than they admitted. As to Lucy, it was impossible to say whether she was friendly or hostile.

Sir Simon's body was duly interred, and he left all his wealth behind him to take up his abode in the dark vault. After the service several people lingered in the graveyard, but the majority, thinking the spectacle was at an end, made haste to go. Julius with Durham returned in the carriage, and the rest of the relatives followed, flocking like vultures to the feast. While in the carriage Durham thought he would see if Julius suspected that Bernard had escaped.

"You have not heard if Gore's body has been found?" he asked.

"No," said Beryl, raising his pale eyes and looking as sad as any owl.

"I fear he is dead in his sin."

"You can't be sure if he did sin, Mr. Beryl."

"The jury thought so."

"A jury is not always infallible!"

"I think the case had a fair hearing, Mr. Durham. So far as I am concerned I should have been pleased had the verdict been otherwise. It is not pleasant for me to have a relative accused of such a crime. But since he is dead let his evil rest with him. You will not hear me say a word against his memory," added the virtuous Julius.

"Perhaps it will be as well," replied Durham, dryly. "You never were a friend of Bernard's."

"All the more praise to me that I should not run him down."

"Tell me, Beryl, do you really believe he committed the crime?"

"I answered that indirectly before. Yes, I believe he was guilty."

"Then it is just as well he is dead."

"Just as well," a.s.serted Beryl, quickly.

"You don't think he can have escaped?"

Julius started. "What makes you think so?" he demanded uneasily.

"Well, you see, Bernard was a good swimmer, and--"

"The best swimmer in the world could do nothing against the current of the Thames on a foggy night. On a fine day I dare say he might have gained the opposite bank, but in the fog he must have circled round and round until he was exhausted."

"Yet, his clothes were discovered on the bank," persisted Durham. "I wonder if I offered a reward, would anything be discovered?"

"His corpse might," said Beryl, unpleasantly, "but no reward shall be offered. Better let sleeping dogs lie."

"But surely, Mr. Beryl, if you inherit the property, you will seek for the poor fellow's dead body?"

"No," replied Julius decisively. "I think it is best to leave things alone. Bernard committed a vile act, and if his body has been swept out to sea all the better for his memory and the position of the family. I shall offer no reward."

Durham, seeing the young man was absolutely certain of his inheritance, and that he was prepared to act in a most n.i.g.g.ardly spirit, looked out of the window to hide a smile. "Poor Sir Bernard," he said.

"Sir Bernard?" questioned the supposed heir, raising his eyebrows.

"Certainly. On the death of Sir Simon, Bernard took the t.i.tle!"

"He hasn't enjoyed it long," said Beryl, with so villainous a sneer that the lawyer longed to pitch him out of the carriage, "and seeing he is dead I suppose the t.i.tle becomes extinct."

"It does," a.s.sented Durham gravely. "Bernard was the only heir in the direct line."

Julius shrugged his shoulders. "Well, I'll be quite content with the money," said he.

"Here we are," said Durham, as the carriage stopped. "By the way, Miss Plantagenet and Miss Malleson have come to hear the will read. I hope you don't object."

"Yes, I do," retorted Beryl, angrily, as he alighted. "They would have shown better taste had they remained away."

"But remember Miss Malleson has lost Bernard."

"All the better for her. She would have had a miserable life with that fellow."