A Woman's Burden: A Novel

"And did he?" asked the wily inspector, unable to resist laying a trap for her.

"Well, of course I don't know. I never saw the will. I only know he promised to, and I only tell you now to show you that it was presumably to my interest that the will should be forthcoming, not stolen."

"Most certainly. I have no hesitation in saying that from what you have told me, Miss Crane, there is not the slightest foundation for any sort of charge against you, and so I shall tell Mrs. Darrow if she comes to me."

"Then you won't require me to remain? I am quite willing to stay if you wish."

"Why, you're not leaving Lesser Thorpe?"

"Yes, that is exactly what I am doing, Mr. Prince. You can imagine it is not possible for me to remain with Mrs. Darrow after this. I am going to London to-night, to the Pitt Hotel in Craven Street, which will be my address for the present. Wherever I am, in fact, that will always find me."

"Well, so far as this matter is concerned, miss, there is no need for you to remain here. If I should want you I know where to find you."

"You may rely upon my doing anything that is in my power to help you, Mr. Prince, towards bringing to justice the murderer of my old friend. For Mr. Barton was the best of friends to me, and even if Jabez Tracey were to turn out to be guilty, which, mind you, I don't for one moment think likely, I should feel it my duty to do none the less on that account."

"Well, there's no denying it, miss, it is very strange that he should take himself off so very soon after he was heard to threaten Mr. Barton."

"But you forget; Mr. Barton was strangled – Jabez' threat was to 'knife' him!"

"Quite so. However, miss, these aren't the sort of things for you to meddle with. I may at some future time require your evidence, and in that case I'll let you know. Meanwhile, what you have told me, and your description of this young man, will be most useful. They shall have it in Liverpool within half an hour. Good-day to you, Miss Crane, good-day."

As Miriam turned the corner from the police station, she drew one long sigh of relief. For once it seemed as though Fortune were on her side. Inspector Prince might have been a very different kind of man, and then, well, Miriam had an uncomfortable conviction that her interview might have had a very different kind of ending. As it was she made her way to the station with a comparatively light heart, feeling that not only she herself but Jabez was perfectly safe. By means of the description she had provided, he would never be found in Liverpool or anywhere else.

There was the best part of an hour before her train left for London, so she went into the restaurant and ordered a chop.

When she came out the platform was already crowded, although there was still a quarter of an hour to wait. She was strung up and impatient, and the time seemed an eternity to her. At last the train was signalled and the bell rang. She stood beside the porter who was carrying her things. Suddenly she drew back with an exclamation of terror. There, on the platform before her, showing himself boldly to the world, was Jabez!

CHAPTER XVII.

A ROMAN FATHER

"Do you mean to tell me you are actually engaged to that penniless scamp," raged Dr. Marsh, bringing his fist down on the table.

"For Heaven's sake, George, take care of the china," implored his wife; "four cups already are broken, and it's so difficult to match this – "

"Answer me, Hilda!"

The young girl raised her head, in no wise daunted by the paternal wrath.

"If Gerald were not poor, he would not be so much of a scamp in your eyes, father," she said bitterly. "Engaged? – I am not so much engaged but that I can be quickly disengaged. I have only to tell Gerald you refuse your consent and the reason, play the part of a dutiful daughter generally, and the thing's settled, or rather unsettled."

"You should not have engaged yourself to the fellow without being certain of what you were doing," fumed Marsh.

"I couldn't be more certain," retorted Hilda. "When an old man goes the length of announcing a nephew as his heir, and actually makes a will in his favour, you naturally think that nephew will get the money. It isn't my fault that the will disappeared. I wasn't to know that."

"Of course not, dear," put in Mrs. Marsh; "but as it is now you must give up Gerald."

"And marry the Major, I suppose? What do you think I'm made of, I wonder, to turn like this from one man to another? I love Gerald as much as I could love any man. Why should I give him up now?"

"Because he can't keep you," retorted her father. "Marry Arkel without a penny; why, child, you must be mad!"

"I am sure Major Dundas is a very nice man, Hilda," put in her mother.

"Very nice," assented the girl with irony – "altogether too nice to buy me. I am for sale to the highest bidder, I know, but it doesn't say because I am for sale that Major Dundas is going to buy me. He's got his own little fish to fry. He's in love with Miriam Crane!"

"What! the governess?" scoffed the doctor, holding out his cup for another cup of tea. "You needn't trouble yourself about her. From what Mrs. Darrow hinted that young lady is no better than she should be. I couldn't quite get at the facts, but there's a good deal that's queer about her, and Dundas is not the man to marry a woman with a doubtful past."

"And he most certainly is not the man to marry a girl who jilts another man because he happens to be poor."

"There will be no jilting about the matter," replied Dr. Marsh irritably. "You engaged yourself to Gerald Arkel without my knowledge. Now that it has come to my knowledge I refuse to sanction it, that's all."

"And unless I obey you'll cut me off with a shilling, I suppose," sneered Miss Hilda.

"Don't be insolent, girl!" shouted the doctor, colouring with rage. "I won't have it. I've been more than a good father to you. Haven't I given you a first-class education, dressed you like a princess, and allowed you to do absolutely nothing, as if you had a thousand a year of your own?"

"Oh, you've done all in your power to make your Circassian a saleable article, I admit."

"Circassian! what does the girl mean?"

"Simply that I have been fed and dressed and pampered just like a Circassian for the Sultan's harem."

"Harem!" shrieked Mrs. Marsh. "Hilda, you positively shock me! Where do you learn such language?"

"I shock myself when I think of myself, mother. They sell Circassians in Turkey, and what do you and father intend to do with me – what have you always intended to do with me – but sell me to the highest bidder? Simply because it turns out now that Major Dundas has this money I am to be put on the market for his inspection. A little while ago I should not have minded – I did not mind; but now, oh!" – she was on her feet by this time and white with anger – "it is too degrading to be treated like a bale of goods. You think nothing of my heart – of my feelings. I believe you would throw me gladly into the arms of the Prince of Darkness himself if he was rich enough. I hate you both for it, and I hate myself, and – and I won't stand it! I won't!" And the wretched girl, unable to contain herself, ran out of the room. For she had discovered for the first time that she could feel, and her feelings had been touched, and all the training of past years was powerless to prevent a little outburst of nature.

The parents looked significantly at one another. This their first taste of Hilda, the matured woman, did not augur well. If rendered obstinate and driven into a corner, she was quite capable of destroying all their fine aerial edifices, and of marrying Gerald in spite of them. The doctor looked round at the untidy room, at the ill-appointed table, and thought of his many debts and small income, and incessant endeavours to make two refractory ends meet. And his brow grew dark at the thought, and he struck the table again.

"She shall not marry that pauper," he cried fiercely, "she shall marry Dundas. He'll turn to her right enough now that the Crane woman is out of the way. Cheer up, Amelia, we shall see Hilda at the Manor House yet."

But the wife of his bosom was not thus to be comforted.

"Any day the will might be found," she suggested, rather timidly.

"It won't be found. Search has been made in every hole and corner. There isn't a doubt but the blackguard who murdered the old man carried it off. And he daren't produce it again, you see, even as a means of blackmail, without risk of putting his head in a noose."

"Oh, George, you don't think the man is at large – you don't think he's about here, do you?"

"How the devil do I know where he is. There's not much doubt about his being at large I should say, seeing it's now three weeks since the funeral, and the police haven't progressed an inch. Prince told me they had a clue, and traced it to Liverpool, but there it ended. The man's got away safe enough."

"Perhaps it wasn't a man, George!"

"Of course it was. You don't suppose a woman would have had the strength to strangle Barton, do you? The thing was done deliberately, I tell you – by his friend, most likely."

Mrs. Marsh squeaked again.

"His friend, George?"

The doctor nodded.