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"Asleep? Do you call this sleep? Look at her poor staring eyes. Feel her hands.--No, no, keep back. You shan't touch her."
She turned upon him with so savage and cat-like a gesture that he stopped short with his brows rugged and his hands clenched.
There was a few moments' pause, but the woman did not wince; and Garstang felt more than ever that he must temporise again. He burst into a mocking laugh.
"Oh, you silly woman," he said. "All this nonsense about a girl's holding off for a time. You've often heard her say how she liked me.
You know she came here of her own free will. And I know you feel that I mean to marry her as soon as I can persuade her to come to the church.
What a storm you are making about nothing! She has taken something.
Well, you consented to its being given her; and you are going as frantic as if I had poisoned her."
"I know, I know," cried the woman, "and I was a vile wretch to consent to help you."
"Stuff and nonsense, Sarah, old friend. Now look here; suppose instead of its being a harmless sleeping draught, it had been the effect of her drinking an extra gla.s.s or two of champagne. Would you have gone on then like this?"
"It's of no use for you to talk; I know what a smooth winning tongue you've got, as would bring a bird down out of a tree; but I know you thoroughly now; and Becky was right; you're a base man, and you did worry and worry poor dear Mr Jenour till he shot himself. You robbed him till you'd got everything that was his, and now you've murdered this poor darling girl."
"That will do," cried Garstang, stung now to the quick. "If you will be a fool you must suffer for it. Now, listen to me, woman; this is my house, and this is my wife. She came to me, and she is mine. I have told you that I will take her to the church. Now, go up to your room--I am desperate now--and if you dare to make a sound or to leave it till to-morrow morning, I'll shoot you and your girl too."
The woman stared at him, her lips parted, and with dilated eyes.
"You know what this place is. Not a sound can reach the outside. You have not a soul who would come to inquire after you, and the world would never know what had become of you. Now go."
She stood up, trembling like a leaf, fascinated by his fierce eyes, and began to walk slowly round to the other side of the table, sidewise, so as to keep as far from him as she could.
"Hah!" he said, through his set teeth, "you understand me then at last.
Upstairs with you at once," and as he spoke he stepped quickly to Kate's side, dropped on one knee, and took hold of her icy hand. But he sprang to his feet, half stunned, the next moment, for with a wild cry, the woman threw open the door as if to escape from him, but tore out the key.
"Becky! Becky!" she shrieked.
"Yes, mother!" came from where the tied-up face was stretched over the bal.u.s.trade on the first floor.
"Lock yourself in master's room, open the window, and shriek murder until the police come."
"d.a.m.nation!" roared Garstang; and he rushed at and seized the woman, who clung to one of the bookshelves, bringing it down with a crash, and a shriek came from the upper floor.
"Stop her," roared Garstang. "There, I give in. Here, Becky, your mother will speak to you."
"Lock yourself in the room, but don't scream till I tell you, or he comes," cried the woman.
"That will do," said Garstang, savagely, and he loosed his hold, with the result that the woman ran back to the insensible girl, and once more clasped her in her arms.
Garstang began to pace up and down the room, but paused at the door, to reach out and see Becky's white face and eyes displaying the white rings round them, peering down from above.
At the sight of him she rushed to his bedroom, and stood half inside, ready to lock herself in if he attempted to ascend.
A wild cry from Sarah Plant took Garstang back to her side.
"I knew it--I knew it!" she cried, bursting into a pa.s.sionate fit of sobbing; "you've killed her. Look at her, sir, look. Oh, my poor dear, my poor dear! G.o.d forgive me! What shall I do?"
A chill of horror ran through Garstang, and he bent down over his victim, trembling violently now, as he raised one eyelid with his finger, then the other, bent lower so that his cheek was close to her lips, and then caught her hand, and tried to feel her pulse.
"No, no; she is only sleeping," he said, hoa.r.s.ely.
"Sleeping!" moaned the woman, hysterically; "do you call that sleep?"
Garstang drew a deep breath, and his horror increased.
"Help me to lay her on the couch," he said, huskily.
"No, no, I'm strong enough," groaned the woman. "Oh, my poor dear--my poor dear! he has murdered you."
She rose quickly, and in her nervous exaltation, pa.s.sed her arms round the helpless figure, and lifted it like a child, to bear it to the couch, and lay it helplessly down.
"Oh, help, help!" she groaned, in a piteous wail. "A doctor--fetch a doctor at once."
"No, no, go for brandy--for cold water to bathe her face."
"I don't leave her again," cried the woman, pa.s.sionately; "I'd sooner die."
Garstang gazed down at them wildly for a few moments, and then rushed across into the dining-room, obtained the brandy, a gla.s.s, and a carafe of water, and returned, to begin bathing Kate's temples and hands, but without the slightest result, save that her breathing became fainter, and the ghastly symptoms of collapse slowly increased.
"She's going--she's going!" moaned the shuddering woman, who knelt by the couch, holding Kate tightly as if to keep her there. "We've poisoned her! we've poisoned her!"
The panic which had seized upon Garstang increased, as he gazed wildly at his work. Strong man as he was, and accustomed to control himself, he began now to lose his head; and at last, thoroughly aghast, he caught the housekeeper by the shoulder and shook her.
"Don't leave her," he said, in a husky whisper. "I'm going out."
"What!" cried the woman, turning and catching his arm; "going to try and escape, and leave me here?"
"No, no," he whispered; "a doctor--to fetch a doctor."
"Yes, yes," moaned the woman; "a doctor--fetch a doctor; but it is too late--it is too late!"
Garstang hardly heard her words, as he bent down and took a hurried look at Kate's face. Then hurrying to the door, he caught sight of Becky still watching.
"Go down and help your mother," he cried, excitedly; and unfastening the door, he rushed out.
CHAPTER FORTY FOUR.
Pierce Leigh returned home after a long weary day of watching. From careful thought and balancing of the matter, he had long come to the conclusion that Claud Wilton's ideas were right, and that John Garstang knew where his cousin was. But suspicion was not certainty, and though he told himself that he had no right or reason in his conduct, he could not refrain from spending all the time he could spare from his professional work in town--work that was growing rapidly--in trying to get some news of the missing girl.
He was more amenable now, and ready to discuss the matter with his sister, who remained Kate's champion and declared that she was sure there was some foul play in the matter; but he would not give way, and laughed bitterly whenever Jenny aired her optimism, and said she was sure that all would end happily after all.
"Silly child!" he said bitterly. "If Miss Wilton was the victim of foul play--which I do not believe--she could have found some means of communicating with her friends."
"But she had no friends, Pierce," cried Jenny. "She told me so more than once."