Miss Arnott's Marriage Part 36

"Do you mean to say I was in my nightdress?"

"As to that I cannot be certain. You had on something white; but it struck me that it was some sort of a dressing-gown."

"I have no white dressing-gown."

"On that point I cannot speak positively. You understand that I only saw you for a few seconds, just long enough to make sure that it was you."

She put her hands up to her face, shuddering.

"This is dreadful! that I should walk in my sleep--in the woods--and everyone see me--and I know nothing! What shall I do?"

"There is one thing I should recommend. Have someone to sleep in your room--someone who is quickly roused."

"That is what Mrs Forrester advised. I will certainly have that done. A bed shall be put in my room, and Evans shall sleep in it to-night. Is it to make this communication that you have favoured me with the very unexpected honour of your presence here, Mr Morice?"

"No, Mrs--I beg your pardon, Miss Arnott--it is not." As she noticed the slip she flushed. "The errand which has brought me here is of a different nature, though not, I regret to say, of a more pleasant one."

"Nothing pleasant comes my way. Do not let unpleasantness deter you, Mr Morice. As you are aware I am used to it."

There was a bitterness in her tone which hurt him. He turned aside, searching for words to serve him as a coating of sugar, and failing to find them.

"Why," he presently asked, "did you instruct Ernest Gilbert to defend Jim Baker?"

She stared in amazement; evidently that was not what she expected.

"Why? Why shouldn't I?"

"For the simple but sufficient reason that he was the very last man whose interference you should have invited in a matter of this particular kind."

"Mr Stacey was of a different opinion. It was he who gave me his name.

He said he was the very man I wanted."

"Mr Stacey? Mr Stacey was not acquainted with all the circ.u.mstances of the case, Miss Arnott. Had you consulted me--"

"I should not have dreamt of consulting you."

"Possibly not. Still, I happen to know something of Mr Gilbert personally, and had you consulted me I should have warned you that, in all human probability, the result would be exactly what it has turned out to be."

"Result? Has anything resulted?"

"Something has--Mr Gilbert has withdrawn from the case."

"Withdrawn from the case! What do you mean?"

"Here is the 500 which you sent him. He has requested me to hand it back to you."

"A cheque for 500? Mr Morice, I don't understand! Why has Mr Gilbert returned me this?"

"I will tell you plainly. We are, both of us, in a position in which plainness is the only possible course."

"Well, tell me--don't stand choosing your words--tell me plainly! Why has Mr Gilbert sent me back my cheque through you?"

"Because Jim Baker conveyed the impression to his mind that he--Jim--saw you commit the crime with which he stands charged."

"I don't understand."

"I think you do. Gilbert's position is that he finds himself unable to retain your money when his duty to Baker may necessitate his putting you in the dock on the capital charge."

"Mr Morice! It's--it's not true!"

"Unfortunately, it is true. Lest, however, you should think the position worse than it actually is, part of my business here is to rea.s.sure your mind on at least one point."

"Rea.s.sure my mind! Nothing will ever do that--ever! ever! And rea.s.surance from you!--from you!"

"If matters reach a certain point--before they go too far--it is my intention to surrender myself--say, to Granger--our local representative of law and order--as having been guilty of killing that man in Cooper's Spinney."

"Mr Morice! Do you--do you mean it?"

"Certainly I mean it. Then you will have an opportunity of going into the witness-box and giving that testimony of which you have spoken.

That in itself ought to be sufficient to hang me."

"Mr Morice!"

"What we have princ.i.p.ally to do is to render it impossible that the case against me shall fail. A very trifling accident may bring the whole business to an end; especially if Ernest Gilbert puts ever such a distant finger in the pie. Against the possibility of such an accident we shall have to guard. For instance, by way of a beginning, where's that knife?"

"Knife?"

"The knife."

"I've lost the key."

"Lost the key? of what?"

"I put it in a wardrobe drawer with my--my things, and locked it, and, somehow, I lost the key."

"I don't quite follow. Do you mean that, having locked up my knife in a drawer with some other articles, you have mislaid the key of the lock?"

"Yes, that's what I mean."

"Then in that case, you had better break that lock open at the earliest possible moment."

"Why?"

"The answer's obvious, in order that you may hand me back my knife. If I'm to be the criminal it will never do for my knife to be found in your possession. It would involve all sorts of difficulties which we might neither of us find it easy to get over. Give me the knife. I will hide it somewhere on my own premises, where I'll take care that, at the proper moment, it is found. Properly managed, that knife ought to make my guilt as plain as the noonday sun; mismanaged, the affair might a.s.sume quite a different complexion."

For the first time a doubt entered the girl's mind.

"Mr Morice, do you wish me to understand that you propose to surrender merely to save me?"