The Ashiel mystery: A Detective Story Read online

  CHAPTER III

  A gloomy little clerk climbed down from a high stool where he satwriting, and opened the door.

  "Oh yes, Miss Juliet Byrne," he said when Juliet had told him her name."Mr. Findlay is expecting you. Will you walk upstairs, Miss Byrne,please. I think you have an appointment for twelve o'clock? This way, ifyou please."

  He led the way up a steep and narrow flight of stairs, which rose out ofthe black shadows at the end of the passage.

  "Ladies find these stairs rather dark, I'm afraid," he remarkedpleasantly, as he held open a door and ushered Juliet and her maid intoan empty room. "Will you kindly wait here," he continued. "Mr. Findlay isengaged for the moment. You are a leetle before your time, I believe." Hepulled out his watch and examined it closely. "Not _quite_ the hour yet,"he repeated, and closed it with a snap. "But Mr. Findlay will see you assoon as he is disengaged."

  With a flourish of his handkerchief he withdrew, shutting the doorbehind him.

  Juliet sat down on a hard chair covered with green leather, and told hermaid to take another. Her spirits were damped. The sight of Mr. Nicol, asthe clerk was named, often had that effect upon persons who saw him forthe first time; indeed he was found to be a very useful check ontroublesome clients, who arrived full of determination to have their ownway, and were often so cowed by their preliminary interview with Nicol asto feel it a privilege and a relief subsequently to be bullied by Mr.Ince, or persuaded by Mr. Findlay into the belief that what they hadpreviously decided on was the last thing advisable to do.

  Mr. Findlay frequently remarked to Mr. Ince, when his partner's easilyroused temper was more highly tried than usual by some imbecile mistakeof the clerk's, that Nicol might have faults as a clerk and as a man, butthat, as a buffer, he was the nearest approach to perfection obtainablein this world of makeshifts.

  To which Mr. Ince would reply with point and fluency that fenders couldbe had by the dozen from any shipping warehouse, at a lower cost than oneweek's salary of Nicol's would represent, and would be far more efficientin the office. Still he did not suggest dismissing the man.

  Juliet, as she sat and looked round the musty little waiting-room, feltthat here was an end of her dreams of the resplendent family she was tofind pining to take her to its heart. She felt certain that she couldnever have any feelings in common with people who could employ a firm ofsolicitors which in its turn was served by the man who had received her.Romance and the clerk could never, she thought, meet under one roof. Andsuch a roof! The room in which she sat was so dark, so gloomy, so bareand cheerless, that Juliet began to wonder whether she would not havebeen wiser not to have come. This was not a place, surely, which fondparents would choose for a long-deferred meeting with their child, afteryears of separation. She walked to the window, but the only view was of ablank wall, and that so close that she could have touched it by leaningout. No wonder the room was dark, even at midday in August. The wallswere lined with bookshelves, where heavy volumes, all dealing with thesame subject, that of law, stood shoulder to shoulder in stout bindingsof brown leather.

  There was a fireplace of cracked and dirty marble with an engraving hungover it, representing the coronation of Queen Victoria. A gas stoveoccupied the grate, and a gas bracket stuck out from the wall on eitherside of the picture.

  On the small round mahogany table that stood in the middle of the roomlay a Bible, and a copy of the _St. James's Gazette_, which was dated aweek back. Juliet took it up and read an account of a cricket matchwithout much enthusiasm. Then she flung it down and wandered about theroom once more; but she had exhausted all its possibilities; and thoughshe took a volume entitled _Causes Celebres_ from the shelf, and turnedits pages hopefully, she put it back with a grimace at its dullness and asort of surprise at finding anything drier than the cricket.

  She had waited half an hour, when the door opened and the face of Nicolwas introduced round the corner of it.

  "Will you please come this way," he said.

  Telling her maid to stay where she was, Juliet followed him. He openedthe other door on the landing, and announced her in a loud voice as, witha quickened pulse, she passed him, and entered the room.

  There were two men standing by the hearth. One of them came forward toreceive her.

  "How do you do, Miss Byrne," he said; "I am glad you were able to come.I am Jeremy Findlay, at your service."

  Mr. Findlay was a man of moderate height, with a long pointed nose whichhe was in the habit of putting down to within an inch or two of his deskwhen he was looking for any particular paper, for he was very shortsighted. It rather conveyed the impression that he was poking about withit, and that he hunted for questionable clauses or illegalities in adocument, much as a pig might hunt for truffles in a wood. For the rest,he was middle-aged, with hair nearly white, and small grey whiskers. Hebeamed at Juliet through gold-rimmed eyeglasses.

  "Let me introduce my friend," he said, mumbling something.

  Juliet did not catch the name, but she supposed that this was Mr. Ince.

  The other man stepped forward and shook hands, but said nothing. He was athin, pallid creature, rather above the average height, and had thedrooping shoulders of a scholar. His face, which was long and narrow,looked pale and emaciated, and though his blue eyes had a kindly twinkleit seemed to Juliet that they burned with a feverish brightness. His nosewas long and slightly hooked, and beneath it the mouth was hidden by aheavy red moustache; while his hair, though not of so bright a colour,had a reddish tinge about it. He appeared to be about fifty years of age,but this was due to a look of tiredness habitual to his expression, and,in part, to actual bad health. In reality he was younger.

  "Pray take this chair, Miss Byrne," Mr. Findlay was saying. "We areanxious to have a little conversation with you. I am sure you quiteunderstand that we should not have asked you to come all the way fromBelgium unless your presence was of considerable importance. Howimportant it is I really hardly know myself, but I repeat that I wouldnot have urged you to take so long a journey if I had not had seriousreason to think that it was desirable for your own sake that you shoulddo so. I may say at once that the matter is a family one; but beforegoing further I must ask your permission to put one or two questions toyou, which I hope you will believe are not prompted by any feeling ofidle curiosity on my part."

  He paused, and Juliet murmured some words of acquiescence. Mr. Findlaytook off his eyeglasses, glared at them, replaced them, and ran his noseover the surface of the papers on his writing-table.

  "Ah, here it is!" he exclaimed triumphantly, pouncing on a folded sheetand lifting it to his eyes. "Just a few notes," he explained.

  "We wrote you care of Sir Arthur Byrne," he resumed; "are you a member ofhis family?"

  Here was a disturbing question for Juliet. She had imagined, until thisinstant, that she was on the point of being told who her family was, andnow this man was asking for information from her. Tears of disappointmentwould not be kept from her eyes.

  "I am a member of Sir Arthur's household," she stammered.

  "Are you not his daughter, then?" asked Mr. Findlay.

  "No, I am not really," Juliet replied.

  "Then may I ask what relation you are to him?" said the lawyer.

  "I am his adopted daughter," said Juliet. "I have always called him'Father.'"

  "Are you not any relation at all?" pursued Mr. Findlay.

  "I believe not."

  "Then, Miss Byrne, I hope you will not think it an impertinent questionif I ask, who are you?"

  "I don't know," acknowledged poor Juliet. "I was hoping you would tell methat. I thought, I imagined, that that was why you sent for me."

  "You astonish me," said Mr. Findlay. "Do you mean to say that your familyhas never made any attempt to communicate with you?"

  "No, never."

  "And that Sir Arthur Byrne has never told you anything as to your birth?Surely you must have questioned him about it?"

  "He has told me all he knows," said Juliet, "but that amoun
ts tonothing."

  "Indeed; that is very strange. He must have had dealings with the peopleyou were with before he adopted you. He must at least know their name?"

  "I don't know," said Juliet. "He doesn't know either, I am sure. Itwasn't Sir Arthur who adopted me. It was the lady he married. A Mrs.Meredith. She is dead."

  "But he must have heard about you from her," insisted Mr. Findlay. "Hewould not have taken a child into his household without knowing anythingat all about it."

  "His wife told him that I was the daughter of a friend of hers, andbegged him not to ask her any more about me. He was very devoted to her,and he did as she wished. He has been most kind to me; but I am sure hewould be as glad as I should be to discover my relations. I am dreadfullydisappointed that you don't know anything about them. We all thought Iwas going to find my family at last."

  Juliet's voice quavered a little. She had built too much on thisinterview.

  "I am really extremely sorry not to be able to give you any information,"Mr. Findlay said.

  He turned towards the other man with an interrogative glance, and was metby a nod of the head, at which he leant back in his chair, crossed hislegs and folded his hands upon them, with the expression of some one whohas played his part in the game, and now retires in favour of anothercompetitor. The pale man moved his chair a little forward and took up theconversation.

  "Are you really quite certain that Sir Arthur Byrne has told you allhe knows?" he said earnestly, fixing on Juliet a look at once graveand eager.

  "Yes," she answered. "I can see that he is as puzzled as I am. And hewould be glad enough to find a way to get rid of me," she added bitterly.

  "I thought you said you were attached to him," said the stranger insurprise, "and that he had been very kind to you?"

  "Yes," said Juliet, "he has, and I am as fond of him as possible. But hehas three stepdaughters now; he has married again, you know. And he isnot very well off. I am a great expense, besides being an extra girl. Idon't blame him for thinking I am one too many."

  There was a long pause, during which Juliet was conscious of beingclosely scrutinized.

  "I think I may be able to give you news of your family," said the paleman unexpectedly. "That is, if you are the person I think you arelikely to be."

  "Oh," exclaimed Juliet, "can you really?"

  "Well, it is possible," admitted the other. "I can't say forcertain yet."

  "Oh, do, do tell me!" cried the girl.

  "Out of the question, at present," he replied firmly. "I must firstsatisfy myself as to whose child you are, and on that point you appearable to give me no assistance. You must wait till I can find outsomething further about this matter of your adoption. And even then,"he added, "it is not certain if I can tell you. You must understandthat, though certain family secrets have been placed in my possession,it does not depend upon myself whether or not I shall ultimately revealthem to you."

  Juliet's face fell for a moment, but she refused to allow herself to bediscouraged.

  "There is a chance for me, anyhow!" she exclaimed. "How I hope youwill be allowed to tell me in the end! But why," she went on, turningto Mr. Findlay, "did you make me think you knew nothing at all aboutme. I suppose the family secrets your partner speaks of are thesecrets of my family?"

  "My dear young lady," said Mr. Findlay, "Lord Ashiel is not my partner.On the contrary, he is an old client of ours, and it was at his requestthat we wrote to you as we did. We know no more about your affairs thanyou have told us yourself."

  "Oh," murmured Juliet, confused at her mistake. "I thought you were Mr.Ince," she apologized; "I am so sorry."

  "Not very flattering to poor Ince I'm afraid," said Lord Ashiel, smilingat her. "He's ten years younger than I am, I'm sorry to say, and I wouldchange places with him very willingly. Now, if you had mistaken me forNicol, that undertaker clerk of Findlay's, who always looks as if he'sbeen burying his grandmother, I should have been decidedly hurt. What inthe world do you keep that fellow in the office for, Findlay? To frightenaway custom?"

  Mr. Findlay laughed.

  "He's a more useful person than you imagine," he said. "Though I must sayInce agrees with you, and is always at me about the poor man. Some day Ihope you will both see his sterling qualities."

  "I am afraid you must think I have given you a great deal of trouble forvery little reason," Lord Ashiel said to Juliet. "But perhaps there willbe more result than at present can seem clear to you. I may go so far asto say that I hope so most sincerely. But, if the secret of which I spokejust now is ever to be confided to you, it will be necessary for you andme to know each other a little better. I have a proposal to make to you,which I fear you may think our acquaintance rather too short andunconventional to justify."

  He paused with a trace of embarrassment, and Juliet wondered what couldbe coming.

  "It is not convenient for me to stay in London just now," he went onafter a minute, "and I am sure you must find it very disagreeable at thistime of the year; and yet it is very important that I should see more ofyou. It is, in fact, part of the conditions under which I may be able toreveal these family secrets of yours to you. That is to say, if theyshould turn out to be indeed yours. I came up from the Highlands lastnight. I have a place on the West Coast, where at this moment I have aparty of people staying with me for shooting. My sister is entertainingthem in my absence, but I must get back to my duties of host. What I wantto suggest is that you should pay us a visit at Inverashiel."

  "Thank you very much," said Juliet doubtfully. "I should love to, but--Idon't know whether my father would allow me."

  "Your father?" exclaimed Lord Ashiel and Mr. Findlay in one breath.

  "Sir Arthur Byrne, I mean," she corrected herself.

  "You might telegraph to him," urged Lord Ashiel. "And I, myself, willwrite. You might mention my sister to him. I think he used to know her.Mrs. John Haviland. But, indeed, it is very important that you shouldcome, more important than you think, perhaps."

  He seemed extraordinarily anxious, now, lest she should refuse.

  "Perhaps," suggested Mr. Findlay, "Miss Byrne would like to think overthe idea, and let you know later in the day."

  "A very good plan," said Lord Ashiel. "Yes, of course you would like tothink it over. Will you telephone to me at the Carlton after lunch?Thanks so much. Good-bye for the present."

  He seized his hat and stick and darted to the door. "You talk to her,Findlay!" he cried, and disappeared.

  Juliet and Mr. Findlay were left confronting one another.

  "That will be the best plan," the lawyer repeated. "Think it over, MissByrne. I am sure you would enjoy the visit to Scotland. Inverashiel is amost interesting old place, both historically and for the sake of itsbeautiful scenery. A week or two of Highland air could not fail to be ofbenefit to your health, even if nothing further came of it, so to speak."

  "I should love it," Juliet said again. "But, Mr. Findlay, I don't knowLord Ashiel, or hardly know him. How can I go off and stay with someone Inever met before to-day?"

  "The circumstances are unusual," said the lawyer. "I fancy Lord Ashiel isanxious to lose no time. He is in bad health, poor fellow. I am afraid hewill worry himself a good deal if you cannot make up your mind to go."

  "You see," said Juliet, troubled, "I know nothing about him. I don't knowwhat my father--I mean, Sir Arthur would say."

  "I am sure your father would have no objection whatever to your makingfriends with Lord Ashiel," Mr. Findlay assured her. "He is one of themost respectable, the most domesticated of peers. Not very cheerfulcompany, perhaps, but no one in the world can justly say a word againsthim in any way. He has had a sad time lately; his wife and only childdied within a month of each other, only two or three years ago. They hadbeen married quite a short time. Since then, his sister, Mrs. Haviland,keeps house for him; but he does not entertain much, I am told, exceptduring the autumn in Scotland. You need have no hesitation in acceptingthis invitation, Miss Byrne. I am a married man, and the father
of afamily, and I should only be too delighted if one of my daughters hadsuch an opportunity."

  "Well," said Juliet, "I think I will risk it, and go. I am old enough totake care of myself, in any case." This she said haughtily, with her nosein the air. And then, with a sudden drop to her usual manner, sheexclaimed in a tone of gaiety, "What fun it will be!"

  "I am sure you will not regret your decision," repeated Mr. Findlay, asshe got up to go. "You won't forget to let Lord Ashiel know, will you?"

  "No, I will telephone to him at once. But I will telegraph home too,of course."

  Excitement over this new plan had almost dispelled the earlierdisappointment, and if Juliet's spirits, as she drove back to JermynStreet, were not quite as overflowingly high as when she had startedout, they were good enough to make her smile to herself and to every oneshe met during the rest of the day, and to hum gay little tunes when noone was near, and altogether to feel very happy and pleased andpossessed by the conviction that something delightful was about tohappen. She sent off her telegram to Sir Arthur, spending some time overit, and spoiling a dozen telegraph forms, before she could findsatisfactory words in which to convey her plans with an appearance ofdeference to authority. Then she called up the Carlton Hotel on thetelephone, and was much put out when she heard that Lord Ashiel was notstaying there, or even expected.

  It was the hall porter of her hotel who came to the rescue, bysuggesting that she should try the Carlton Club, of which she had neverbefore heard.

  From the quickness with which Lord Ashiel answered her, he might havebeen sitting waiting at the end of the wire, and he expressed greatpleasure at her acceptance of his invitation. Indeed, she could hear fromthe tone of his voice that his gratification was no mere empty form. Itwas arranged that she should travel down on the following night, LordAshiel promising to engage a sleeping berth for her on the eight o'clocktrain. He himself was going North that same evening. He had just beenwriting a letter to Sir Arthur Byrne, he told her. He hoped she had somethick dresses with her; she would want them in Scotland.

  "I am afraid I haven't," she said. "I only expected to stay in London fora day or two, you know."

  "Well," said the voice at the end of the telephone, "perhaps you can geta waterproof or something, between this and to-morrow night. I am afraidI don't know the names of any ladies' tailors, but there are lots about,"he concluded vaguely.

  "I suppose I had better," said Juliet doubtfully. "I wonder if theshops here will trust me. The fact is, I haven't got very much extramoney. I think perhaps I'd better wait a day or two till I can havesome more sent me."

  "My dear child," came the answer in horrified tones, "you must on noaccount put off coming. Of course you are not prepared for all this extraexpense. You must allow me to be your banker. I insist upon it. Yourfamily, in whose confidence I happen to be, would never forgive me if Iallowed you to continue to be dependent on Sir Arthur Byrne."

  "It is very kind of you," Juliet began. "But suppose I turn out to besome one different. You know, you said--"

  "If you do, you shall repay me," he replied. "In the meantime I willsend you round a small sum to do your shopping with. Let me see, whereare you staying?"

  An hour later a bank messenger arrived with an envelope containing L100in notes. Juliet had never seen so much money in her life, and thought itfar too much. "I shall be sure to lose it," was her first thought. Hersecond was to deposit it with the proprietor of the hotel; after whichshe felt safer. Then, in huge delight, she sallied forth again with hermaid, the alluring memory of some of the shop windows into which she hadgazed that morning calling to her loudly; she had never thought to lookat those fascinating garments from the other side of the glass.Intoxicating hours followed, in which a couple of tweed dresses werepurchased that seemed as if they must have been made on purpose for her;nor were thick walking shoes, and country hats, and other accessoriesneglected. By evening her room was strewn with cardboard boxes, and onWednesday more were added, so that a trunk to pack them in had to bebought as well. The shops were very empty; Juliet had the entireattention of the shop people, and revelled in her purchases. Time flew,and she was quite sorry, as she drove to Euston on the following evening,to think that she was leaving this fascinating town of London.