A Coin of Edward VII Part 6

Outside the expected storm had come on, and snow was falling thickly from a black sky. The light at the lych-gate twinkled feebly, and Giles groped his way down the almost obliterated pathway quite alone, for every one else had departed. He reached the gate quite expecting to find his motor, but to his surprise it was not there. Not a soul was in sight, and the snow was falling like meal.

Giles fancied that his servant had dropped asleep in the inn or had forgotten the appointed hour. In his heart he could not blame the man, for the weather was arctic in its severity. However, he determined to wend his way to the inn and reprove him for his negligence. Stepping out of the gate he began to walk against the driving snow with bent head, when he ran into the arms of a man who was running hard. In the light of the lamp over the gate he recognized him as Trim, his servant.

"Beg pardon, sir, I could not get here any sooner. The car----" The man stopped and stared round in amazement. "Why, sir, where's the machine?"

he asked, with astonishment.

"In your charge, I suppose," replied Ware angrily. "Why were you not here at the time I appointed?"

"I was, begging your pardon, sir," said Trim hotly; "but the lady told me you had gone to see Miss Kent back to The Elms and that you wanted to see me. I left the car here in charge of the lady and ran all the way to The Elms; but they tell me there that Miss Daisy hasn't arrived and that nothing has been seen of you, sir."

Ware listened to this explanation with surprise. "I sent no such message," he said; "and this lady, who was she?"

"Why, Miss Denham, sir. She said she would look after the car till I came back, and knowing as she was a friend of yours, sir, I thought it was all right." Trim stared all round him. "She's taken the car away, I see, sir."

The matter puzzled Giles. He could not understand why Anne should have behaved in such a manner, and still less could he understand why the car should have disappeared. He knew well that she could drive a motor, for he had taught her himself; but that she should thus take possession of his property and get rid of his man in so sly a way perplexed and annoyed him. He and Trim stood amidst the falling snow, staring at one another, almost too surprised to speak.

Suddenly they heard a loud cry of fear, and a moment afterward an urchin--one of the choir lads--came tearing down the path as though pursued by a legion of fiends. Giles caught him by the collar as he ran panting and white-faced past him.

"What's the matter?" he asked harshly. "Why did you cry out like that?

Where are you going?"

"To mother. Oh, let me go!" wailed the lad. "I see her lying on the grave. I'm frightened. Mother! mother!"

"Saw who lying on the grave?"

"I don't know. A lady. Her face is down in the snow, and she is bleeding. I dropped the lantern mother gave me and scudded, sir. Do let me go! I never did it!"

"Did what?" Giles in his nervous agitation shook the boy.

"Killed her! I didn't! She's lying on Mr. Kent's grave, and I don't know who she is."

He gave another cry for his mother and tried to get away, but Giles, followed by Trim, led him up the path. "Take me to the grave," he said in a low voice.

"I won't!" yelped the lad, and tearing his jacket in his eagerness to escape, he scampered past Trim and out of the gate like a frightened hare. Giles stopped for a moment to wipe his perspiring forehead and pa.s.s his tongue over his dry lips, then he made a sign to Trim to follow, and walked rapidly in the direction of Mr. Kent's grave. He dreaded what he should find there, and his heart beat like a sledge-hammer.

The grave was at the back of the church, and the choir boy had evidently pa.s.sed it when trying to take a short cut to his mother's cottage over the hedge. The snow was falling so thickly and the night was so dark that Giles wondered how the lad could have seen any one on the grave.

Then he remembered that the lad had spoken of a lantern. During a lull in the wind he lighted a match, and by the blue glare he saw the lantern almost at his feet, where the boy had dropped it in his precipitate flight. Hastily picking this up, he lighted the candle with shaking fingers and closed the gla.s.s. A moment later, and he was striding towards the grave with the lantern casting a large circle of light before him.

In the ring of that pale illumination he saw the tall tombstone, and beneath it the figure of a woman lying face downward on the snow. Trim gave an exclamation of astonishment, but Giles set his mouth and suppressed all signs of emotion. He wondered if the figure was that of Anne or of Daisy, and whether the woman, whomsoever she was, was dead or alive. Suddenly he started back with horror. From a wound under the left shoulder-blade a crimson stream had welled forth, and the snow was stained with a brilliant red. The staring eyes of the groom looked over his shoulder as he turned the body face upwards. Then Giles uttered a cry. Here was Daisy Kent lying dead--murdered--on her father's grave!

CHAPTER V

AFTERWARDS

Never before had any event created such a sensation in the village of Rickwell. From the choir boy and his mother the news quickly spread.

Also Giles had to call in the aid of the rector to have the body of the unfortunate girl carried to The Elms. In a short time the churchyard was filled with wondering people, and quite a cortege escorted the corpse.

It was like the rehearsal of a funeral procession.

Mrs. Morley had gone to bed, thinking the two girls might be reconciled in church and come home together. Her husband, not so sanguine, had remained in the library till after midnight, ready to play the part of peace-maker should any fracas occur. He appeared in the hall when poor dead Daisy was carried through the door, and stared in surprise at the spectacle.

"Great heavens!" he cried, coming forward, his ruddy face pale with sudden emotion. "What is all this?"

Giles took upon himself the office of spokesman, which the rector, remembering that he had been engaged to the deceased, tacitly delegated to him.

"It's poor Daisy," he said hoa.r.s.ely. "She has been--"

"Murdered! No. Don't say murdered!"

"Yes, we found her lying on her father's grave, dead; a knife-thrust under the left shoulder-blade. She must have died almost instantaneously."

"Dead!" muttered Morley, ghastly white. And he approached to take the handkerchief from the dead face. "Dead!" he repeated, replacing it. Then he looked at the haggard face of Ware, at the silent group of men and the startled women standing in the doorway, where the rector was keeping them back.

"Where is her murderess?" he asked sharply.

"Murderess!" repeated Giles angrily. "What do you mean?"

"Mean? Why, that Miss Denham has done this, and----"

"You are mad to say such a thing."

"I'll tax her with it to her face. Where is she? Not at home, for I have been waiting to see her."

"She's run way on Mr. Ware's motor-car," volunteered Trim, only to be clutched violently by his master.

"Don't say that, you fool. You can't be sure of that, Mr. Morley," he added, turning to the scared man. "Make no remark about this until we can have a quiet talk about it."

"But I say----"

"You can say it to the police officer in the morning."

"She'll have escaped by that time," whispered Trim to his master.

Giles saw the danger of Anne--supposing her to be guilty, as the groom thought her--and made up his mind at once.

"Go home, Trim, and saddle a couple of horses. We'll follow the track of the car, and when we find it----"

"You'll never find it," put in Morley, who had been listening with all his ears. "The falling snow must have obliterated any wheel-marks by this time. When did this occur?"

"I don't know," replied Giles coldly. "And instead of chattering there, you had better have the--the--" he stammered, "the body taken into some room and attended to. Poor Daisy," he sighed, "what an end to your bright young life!"

Here Mr. Drake, the rector, thought it necessary to a.s.sert himself, and waved aside the throng.

"All you men and women, go to your homes," he said. "Nothing can be done to-night, and----"