The Ashiel mystery: A Detective Story Page 8

  CHAPTER VIII

  They had reached a place where a wide horseshoe of beach ran down to theloch. For more than a week there had been no rain to speak of. The seasonas a whole had been dry, and the water was very low; tufts of grassdotted the shore; brambles and young alders were springing up bravely,determined to make the most of their time. At the back stretched ameadow, part of which had been cut for hay; the rest of it was so full ofweeds and wild flowers, ragweed, burdock and the red stalks of sorrel,that it had been left untouched, and filled the foreground with colour.The grass had gone to seed and turned a rich reddish purple; beneath itgrew wild geraniums whose leaves were already scarlet. Bluebells andscabious made a haze of mauve, and everywhere the warm, sandy stalks ofthe dried grasses shone yellow through the patch.

  They sat down at the edge of the beach and leant back against theoverhanging turf. Opposite to them the little town of Crianan clung tothe steep rocks below Ben Ghusy, the houses looking as if they stoodpiled one on top of another in a rough pyramid; and the whole surmountedby the high walls and tower of the Roman Catholic monastery whichdominated the scene, and always seemed to Juliet to wear a look of sterndefiance, as if it were offering a challenge to that other fortress thatfrowned back at it. She could imagine the monks in the old days, standingon its parapet and daring the Lords of Inverashiel to do their worst. Faraway down the loch lay the hills, scarce more deeply grey than the water;beyond them more distant tops melted into the sky. The grey rippleslapped gently on jagged shingle, and a persistent housefly buzzed loudlyround their heads; at that hour there were as yet few midges, and it wasvery peaceful, very solitary, very desolate.

  "I don't know," said Juliet, going on with her story where she had leftoff, "which was more angry, Lord Ashiel or Sir David. After the first fewminutes, in which they both said things I am sure they regrettedafterwards, neither of them would speak to the other, and it was a veryuncomfortable evening for every one. The next day was better. ColonelSpicer and Sir George left by the morning train, both going on to shootin other parts of Scotland. Mrs. Clutsam went away too; she had some onecoming to stay with her at her own house near by. Both the young men wentstalking on different parts of the forest, and Lord Ashiel and I, withthe two other girls, spent the morning on the loch trolling for salmon;but we didn't get a rise.

  "In the afternoon I walked up the river with Julia Romaninov; we talkedabout our schooldays. She had been at school in Germany, and I inSwitzerland. After a while she got tired and went home, but I went on bymyself, for I had a lot of things to think of, and was glad to be alone.I came at last to a great pool among the rocks, where the river comesdown in a fall from far above in a cloud of spray and foam. I stood on astone at the water's edge and watched the trout rising in the pool. Theriver was low and the water very clear. Standing on the rocks above it,it seemed as if I could see every pebble at the bottom, except where theywere hidden in the ripples which spread away from beneath the fall. Thepool is like the bottom of a well; high rocks rear themselves round it toa great height; they are veiled in a greenness of fern and moss, and nearthe top many trees have found a roothold in the crevices and bend forwardtowards each other over the water, as divers poise themselves beforeleaping down. Through a narrow opening opposite the fall the river makesits way onward. As I stood there a stone must have come down from theheights above. I did not see it, and the noise of the waterfall deadenedany sound of its descent, but suddenly I felt a heavy blow between theshoulders, and I must have tumbled forward into the pool below.

  "The next thing I remember was looking up into the anxious friendly faceof Andrew Campbell, one of the ghillies at Inverashiel. It seemed to behanging above me in the sky, which was the only other thing I could see,and I wondered vaguely why I saw it upside down. My head was achingcruelly and I couldn't imagine what was the matter, though I was too weakand faint to care. To cut my adventure short, Andrew had come to a poollower down the river just as I floated into it on top of the current; hehad fished me out, and was now restoring me to life again. I was got backto the house, how I hardly know, put to bed, and actually wept over byLord Ashiel. By the evening I had so far recovered that I was able tocome down to dinner, though I should not have done so if it had not beenfor the anxiety of my host, as my head still felt as if it was going tosplit. I received many congratulations on my escape, and Lord Ashiel,when he spoke of it, was so much moved that every one was quiteembarrassed, and I myself was touched beyond expression at the affectionhe did not attempt to conceal. He was very silent after that, but inspite of him dinner that night was a merry meal. Every one was in thebest of spirits, or else assumed them for the time being. We all jokedand laughed over my adventure, and Mr. McConachan said I bore a charmedlife, since I had escaped being killed by his careless shot, and now theriver refused to drown me. It was not till the servants had left theroom, and we were preparing to do the same, that Lord Ashiel spoke again.

  "Lady Ruth had got up, and was moving towards the door, and the othergirls and I were following her, when he called her back. 'Will you wait aminute, Ruth,' he said. 'I have something to tell you and my youngfriends here.' He smiled round at all of us, including Sir David, to whomhe hadn't spoken since the affair of the dog. 'I have some good newswhich I want you to share with me.' He took me by the hand and drew meforward. 'I want,' said he, 'to introduce you all to a young lady whomyou do not know. This is Juliet McConachan, my dear and only daughter.'

  "I was not really so surprised as he expected. His behaviour to me hadmade me suspicious, and during the last few days especially I had allowedmyself to nourish a hope that we were related. But I was glad. I can'ttell you how glad and thankful. Every one else was tremendouslysurprised. They all clustered round us with questions and exclamations,but Lord Ashiel would say no more just then, and only smiled and beamed,and nodded mysteriously. 'I am not going to answer any questions till Ihave had a talk with Juliet,' he said. 'This is as much news to her as itis to any of you, and it is only fair that she should be the first tohear the story. For I won't deny that there is a story. Come to mepresently, my child,' he went on, addressing himself to me. 'Come to thelibrary in half an hour's time. You will find me there, and I will tellyou all about it.'

  "I went to the drawing-room, my aching head almost forgotten. I was, ofcourse, intensely excited; indeed I think I scarcely took in any of thekind things that Lady Ruth and the others said to me that evening; at allevents I have hardly any idea what they were, and none at all as to whatI answered. My one overmastering desire was to be alone; to have time tothink; to realize all that the news meant to me; and after a quarter ofan hour had passed I made some excuse, and left the room. The nearest wayto my bedroom was by a back stair, and to reach it I had to pass througha passage leading to the gun-room. The door of that room was ajar, and asI went by Sir David Southern came out.

  "'What have you been doing in there at this time of night?' I asked; andoh, Mr. Gimblet, I was so foolish as to repeat this to the Glasgowdetective when he questioned me. To think that my careless words have ledthem to believe Sir David capable of such a crime! But I had no idea ofthe meaning they would attach to it. You will understand presently how itwas. 'I went to clean my rifle,' he answered, shutting the door behindhim. 'I always see to that myself. And where are you off to so fast,Cousin Juliet? That is what you are to me, it appears.' And so wetalked: about me, and our newly discovered relationship. I need notrepeat all that, need I? And, besides, I do not remember everything wesaid," added Juliet, flushing.

  "After a little while, though, I told him how badly my head ached, and hewas very sympathetic about it. 'You ought not to have come down todinner,' he said, 'the dining-room gets so hot and stuffy; it is a lowroom, and Uncle Douglas never will have the window open, even on a lovelynight like this.' There is a door at the foot of the stairs, opposite thegun-room, and as he spoke he drew back the bolt. 'Come out into thegarden for a few minutes,' he said, holding the door open for me to pass,'a little fresh air will do you more good than
anything.'

  "The night was warm, I suppose, for Scotland, but cool enough to seemwonderfully fresh and invigorating after the enclosed air within thehouse. It was very dark, and the sky was overcast, though just above us astar or two was shining, very large and clear. Otherwise I could hardlydistinguish anything at all, except the line, about fifty yards away,where the lawn came to an end, and the ground dipped abruptly downtowards the loch, so that the level edge of the grass showed up againstthe less opaque darkness of the sky, like a black velvet border to apiece of black silk.

  "We stood there a little while, till I remembered I must go to thelibrary. My head was already much better when I turned back into thehouse; Sir David didn't follow me; he seemed to be staring through thegloom in front of him. 'I am going in,' I said. 'What are you lookingat?' 'I thought I saw something move over there on the skyline,' hereplied; 'do you see anything?' I looked, but could make out nothing.'Well,' he said, 'if you are going in, I think I'll just go over and seeif there's anyone about; you might leave the door open, will you?'

  "And so I left him, and made my way to the library. As I passed throughthe billiard-room, Mr. McConachan, who was knocking the balls about,asked me if I had seen his cousin, and I told him Sir David was outsideon the lawn by the gun-room door.

  "Lord Ashiel--my father--was waiting for me, and he came to meet me andkissed me tenderly. We were both very much agitated: I was still feelingthe effects of my escape from drowning, and he, poor dear, was weak andill. In short, neither of us was in a fit state to meet the situationcalmly; and, if my tears flowed, they were not the only ones that wereshed. For a few moments we cried like babies, in each other's arms, andthen I pulled myself together, for I knew how bad it was for his healthto get into this nervous state. Mr. Gimblet, I needn't tell you all theconversation that followed between us. He told me that you know the wholestory, that you are the one person in the world in whom he had confided;so it is unnecessary for me to repeat what he said of his marriage to mymother, of her death, and of his resolve never willingly to look upon me,the baby who had taken her from him. He told me also of the years thathad intervened between that day when he had shuffled off hisresponsibilities on to Mrs. Meredith, and the day, not long ago, when heat last decided to hunt out his daughter.

  "He told me of his fears that she should prove to be none other thanJulia Romaninov, and of how, in desperation, he had applied to you forhelp, and of how you had discovered my existence.

  "He said he had never really doubted from the moment he first set eyes onme that I was Juliana's child. But he dared not hint such a thing to metill he was certain, and anxious though he was to see a likeness betweenme and her, or himself, he had not been able to tell himself, truthfully,that he could really see one, until that day. It was when I was broughthome that afternoon, so white and faint, so changed by my pallor fromwhat he chose to describe as my usual gay brilliance, that theresemblance suddenly showed itself. He hardly knew that it was I; itmight have been Juliana that they were carrying. He said there could beno doubt that I was her daughter; that he for one, required no furtherproof; though we should probably get it now it was no longer wanted. SirArthur Byrne might be able to suggest some way of tracing things. Notthat it mattered, for he could not in any case leave me his title, and,on the other hand, he had full control of his money, which would be minebefore very long.

  "I cried out at that, that he must not say so; that it was not money Iwanted, but a father, affection, friendship. He repeated that all thesame I should have it in course of time. That it was all settled already.Even before he was certain that I was his own child, he liked me wellenough to make up his mind about that. He asked me if I remembered thathe had stayed at home the other day while the rest of us were on thehill? He said he had made his will that day, and I was the principallegatee, though he had not alluded to me in it by my own name. But heworded it carefully, so that that should make no difference; and thoughhe believed it was quite clear as it was, he would make it over again,as soon as he could obtain legal proof of my birth.

  "I supposed I murmured some sort of thanks for his care of my future, andhe went on again, saying that he only wished the title could come to metoo, when he died; but that it would go to Mark, since the little boy hissecond wife had given him was dead, and I was a girl.

  "He said he was afraid that Mark might be a little disappointed, for, ifhe hadn't found me, Mark and David would have shared his fortune betweenthem; but they would soon get over it, for they were good lads,especially Mark; and David would have plenty of money through this verysatisfactory marriage of his. I couldn't help interrupting that moneywasn't everything. I am telling you all these trivial things, Mr.Gimblet, because you said I was to try and remember everything, howeverunimportant."

  "Yes," said Gimblet, "that is what I want. Pray go on."

  "He only smiled when I said that," Juliet resumed, "and said thatdifferent opinions were held on that subject by different people. Then hewent on talking about my future life, and said again how glad he wouldalways be that he had consulted you, and how grateful he was for what youhad done for him, and that if any trouble cropped up, I was to be sureand send for you at once. He looked to you to protect my interests, and,if necessary, to avenge his death.

  "I couldn't think what he meant, and said so; but he only smiled againand said he hoped there would be no need for it. He said he had somepapers he must send to you to take care of, some papers that were ratherdangerous to their owner, he was afraid, though at the same time theywere a safeguard to him. But he shouldn't like me to have anything to dowith them, or the boys either, and he must get them away from Inverashielas soon as he could. In the meantime they were in a safe place where noone would find them, and he would write to you that night and tell youhow to look for them, just on the chance that something should happenbefore he could send them off. His will was with them, too, for thepresent, but he would send that up to Findlay & Ince. He wouldn't tell mewhere the papers were; he didn't want me to have anything to do withthese tiresome things.

  "He said all this with hesitation; with long pauses between thesentences. It seemed to me that he would have liked to tell me more, andI didn't know what to say. Indeed, he seemed to be talking rather tohimself than to me, and I am not sure if he heard me when I said that ifhe had any anxiety I should like to share it, if it were possible.Presently he seemed to take a sudden resolution. He said that there wasno reason, at all events, why he should not explain to me how to find thepapers. He had written directions in cipher once before and given you thekey, but you had lost it, and might do so again. It would be just as wellthat I should know about it too, in any case. He had had to think out anew method, and at present it was known to no one except himself, whichwas perhaps not very wise. However, he would send it to you that night,and would explain it to me at once. But first I must promise him, veryfaithfully, never to mention it to anyone, whatever happened, not to letanyone, except you, ever guess that there was such a thing in existence.

  "I promised solemnly; still he hardly seemed satisfied, and looked at mevery searchingly, while he said he wondered if I were old enough tounderstand the importance of this, and if I realized that I was promisingnot to tell my nearest or dearest; not my adopted father, Sir ArthurByrne, nor my lover, if I had one. That it was a matter of life anddeath, that his life was in danger then, and that I would inherit therisk unless I did as he said.

  "Rather indignant, though completely mystified, I promised again. Heseemed satisfied, and said he would write the whole thing down for me. Hemoved from the hearth, where we had been sitting, to the writing-table,which stands in the middle of the room, in front of the window. He satdown at it, and I stood a little behind him, looking on as he took asheet of notepaper and turned over the pens in the tray in search of apencil. The room was very hot; the tufts of peat smouldering in thegrate, and the two lamps, combined with the fumes of Lord Ashiel's cigarto render the atmosphere oppressive to a person with a violent headache.I glanced lo
ngingly towards the window. It was not entirely hidden by theheavy curtains which were drawn across it, for they did not quite meet inthe middle, and I could see perfectly well that the window was shut. Fora moment I hesitated, torn between the desire for fresh air and the fearthat my father might feel too cold. He was terribly chilly. I decided toask him, and turned to him again as he took up the pencil and examinedthe point critically.

  "'Would you mind,' I was beginning; but at that instant a loud reportsounded just outside the window. Lord Ashiel fell forward on to the tablewith a low cry, his hand clasped to his ribs. 'Oh, what is it?' I cried,bending over him; 'you are hurt; you are shot! Oh, what shall I do!' Hewas making a great effort to speak, I could see that plainly enough; butno words would come, and he seemed to be choking. At last he managed toget out a few words. 'Gimblet,' he gasped, 'the clock--eleven--steps--'and then with a groan his hand dropped from his side, his head rolledback upon the table, and a silence followed, more horrible to me thananything that had gone before.

  "I saw now that his shirt was already soaked with blood; and, as interror I called again upon his name, the dreadful truth was borne in uponme, and I knew that he was dead."

  Juliet's voice failed her; she spoke the last few words in a quaveringwhisper, and if Gimblet had looked at her at that moment he would havebeheld a countenance drawn and distorted by horror.

  But he was very much occupied, and did not look up. With a notebook openon his knee, he was busily writing down what she had said.

  "You are sure of the words?" he asked, as his pencil sped across thepage. "'Gimblet--the clock--eleven--step,' is that it?"

  His matter-of-fact voice soothed and reassured her. This littlegrey-haired man, sitting at her side, was somehow a very comfortablecompanion to one whose nerves were badly overwrought. Juliet pulledherself together.

  "Steps," she corrected, and her voice sounded almost natural again."Not step."

  "Do you suppose," asked the detective, "that he meant the English word,steps, or the Russian, steppes?"

  "I don't know," said Juliet, surprised. "I never thought of it. But, Mr.Gimblet, I have not told anyone but you that he spoke after he was hit. Ithought perhaps that he might have wished those last words of his to bekept private."

  "Quite right," said Gimblet approvingly. "He did right to trust yourdiscretion. And now, please, go on," he added, putting down his pencil;"what happened next?"

  And Juliet answered him in a tone as calm as his own:

  "I think I must have fainted."