The Ashiel mystery Part 29

"Of course. Not a word of truth in it. d.a.m.ned nonsense," he bl.u.s.tered.

But his eyes fell before Juliet's scornful gaze, and Julia was not deceived.

"It can't be true, oh, it can't," she moaned. "No man could be so vile."

"No other man could," Juliet amended. In spite of herself she was sorry for the girl, whose stricken face showed plainly the anguish she was undergoing. "Forget him, Julia; he is not worthy to tie your shoe-lace. He came to me after they had taken David away, and asked me first if I would take his inheritance even though I couldn't prove my birth, which he must have known perfectly that I should never dream of doing, and then proposed I should marry him, saying that he was very fond of me, and that in that way justice would be done as regards Lord Ashiel's money, however things turned out for me. I thought it honourable and generous at the time, and so did Lady Ruth when I told her-oh yes, she knows about it and can tell you it is true-but now I see that all he wanted was to be on the safe side, and, if I had accepted him and had turned out to have no claim upon his uncle's fortune, he would have broken the engagement on some easy pretext. Can you deny it?" she demanded of Mark.

But he could not face her, though he made an effort again to brazen it out.

Every word she had spoken seemed to strike Julia like a blow. She shrank quivering away, and threw herself down on to a chair, her face hidden in her hands. Juliet went to her and touched her gently on the shoulder.

"Don't think of him any more," she said. "Presently you will hate yourself for having cared for a murderer. Just now, I know, your love for him makes you gloss over his crimes, but when you are yourself you will see how odious they are. Poor Julia, I hate to hurt you so, but it is better, isn't it, that you should know? You will forget this madness. He is not worth your wasting another thought on. Think how shamefully he has deceived you. Think of all his lying words, of how he told you he had never looked at another woman."

Julia raised her head and showed a face, white as chalk, in which the great brown eyes seemed to burn like fires of hatred.

"Yes," she said in a hard, even voice. "I am thinking of it. I shall not forget him. No. Instead, I shall think of him day and night, be sure of that. I shall laugh as I think of him; laugh at the thought of him in his place in the dock, or in his prison cell. I shall laugh when I give my evidence against him, and most of all I shall laugh on the day when he is hanged. If his grave is to be found, I shall dance upon it. Oh, it will be a merry day for me, that day when the cord is tightened round his false neck!"

She went near to Mark, and hissed the last words into his face, leaning forward, with one hand on her own throat. But he seemed to shrink less before her vindictive pa.s.sion than he had under the colder scorn of Juliet's denunciations.

"Come, Juliet," said Julia, calming herself a little, although hate was still blazing in her eyes, "let us leave this place. We must send for the police."

"Julia," said Mark, stepping forward, and speaking with some of his former a.s.surance, "you condemn me unheard. Why should you believe this girl before me? It is not like you, Julia. It is not like the girl I love. For I do love you, darling, in spite of what you may think; and, till a few moments ago, I thought you loved me too. But I see now what your love is. One whiff of suspicion, one word of accusation, and without proof or evidence you condemn me, and your so-called affection disappears. Julia, I think you have broken my heart."

Juliet gave vent to a derisive sound which can only be called a snort; but it was plain that his words, and more especially the manner of sad yet tender reproach in which they were uttered, were not without their effect on the other girl. Her eyes wavered uneasily; she twisted and tore at her handkerchief.

"I have heard what you have to say," she murmured. "I saw that you could not deny what Juliet told me."

"I did deny it. But what is the use of talking to you when you are in such a state? You are determined beforehand to disbelieve me. And I have no wish to justify myself to Miss Byrne, though I am willing to swallow my pride and do so to you."

"Well," she said after a moment's hesitation, "justify yourself if you can. No one shall say I would not listen. G.o.d knows I shall be glad enough if you can clear yourself."

"To begin with," said Mark, "I admit that, superficially, there is truth in what you have heard. But only superficially, for the person I deceived was not yourself but this young lady. I certainly, as she suggests, never had the slightest intention of marrying her. For one thing I was absolutely certain she would refuse me, but it seemed a good precautionary move to make what might appear a generous proposal, and at the same time get a sort of mandate from the possible heiress herself to stick to my uncle's fortune. You may be sure I should never have given it up, in any case, but it is as well to keep up appearances. The business was only a move in the game I am playing, and no more affects the sincerity of my love for you than any of the social equivocations we all find necessary from time to time. I love you, Julia, and you alone. How can you doubt it? I love you so much that I am willing to overlook your want of confidence in me, and to forgive the cruel things you said just now. Darling, how can I tell you, before a third person, what I feel for you? You are everything to me; and, if you no longer love me, I don't care what happens. Give me up to the police if you like. The gallows is as good a place as another, without your love."

Long before he had finished, all traces of resentment had vanished. When he ceased speaking, she gave in completely, and threw herself upon his breast, sobbing pa.s.sionately, and begging his forgiveness for having doubted him for an instant, while he soothed and comforted her in a low tone. Juliet did not know what to do or which way to look. The two stood between her and the door, and she felt an absurd awkwardness about trying to pa.s.s them. Was it likely she would be allowed to go out free to denounce them? She was afraid of trying.

At last Julia was calm again, and there came a silence, during which the pair glanced at Juliet and then at each other.

"What's to be done?" Julia asked at length, and then suddenly, without waiting for an answer, "I have an idea, Mark, that will save you. If her mouth can be stopped for a time, will you be able to get clear away?"

"I shall have to try, I suppose," he replied, with a trace of his former sulkiness. "To think that everything should miscarry because of a slip of a girl!"

"You had better go to Glasgow and get on board some ship there which will take you to a place of safety. I shall have to stay behind till the matter of the list is settled one way or the other. But then, when I have reported to my superiors, I can join you, and we can begin life together in some far-off country. I shall be as happy in one place as in another with you, Mark; are you sure you will be, too, with only me?"

Mark hastened to rea.s.sure her on that point, but his tone as he said it did not carry conviction to Juliet. Julia, however, seemed satisfied.

"Miss Byrne can choose," she continued. "Either she swears not to say a word till we are both safe away, or else we can shut her in the dungeon of the castle. I know where it is, in the wall of this tower. She will never be found there, and I can take her food from time to time till I am ready to join you. Isn't that a good plan?"

Mark considered.

"I don't think we will give her the option of swearing not to tell," he said presently.

"As if I would ever promise such a thing!" Juliet interrupted, indignant.

"But," he went on, ignoring this outburst, "otherwise I think your idea is good. Where is this dungeon? We may be disturbed at any minute, and enough time has been wasted already."

"I will go first and show the way," said Julia. "I have an electric torch," and she stepped into the clock and lowered herself through the trap-door.

Mark motioned to Juliet to follow.

"Ladies first," he said with a sneer.

Juliet turned and made a dash for the door.

"I won't go! I won't! I won't!" she cried desperately, though in her heart she knew she could not resist if he chose to use force. Perhaps if she screamed, some one would hear. Oh, where was Gimblet? Why did he leave her to the mercy of these people? "Help! Help!" She lifted up her voice and shrieked as loud as she could.

With a vicious scowl Mark sprang upon her, and clapped a hand over her mouth. Then, as she still continued to produce m.u.f.fled sounds of distress, he stuffed his handkerchief in between her teeth and, lifting her bodily in his arms, thrust her before him into the clock, and pushed her roughly down the hidden stair. Half-way down she lost her footing, and fell to the bottom, where Julia was standing with her little lamp in her hand.

Mark was following close behind, and between them they picked her up and hurried her, limping and bruised, along the narrow pa.s.sage. She was allowed to take the handkerchief out of her mouth, for no cry could penetrate the immense thickness of these blocks of stone. At the point where there was a break to right and left in the walls of the pa.s.sage, Julia came to a standstill.

"Here it is," she said, turning her light on to the opening in the wall on the left-hand side. "The door is gone, so you will have to fetch something to block it up with."

It seemed to be a small, cell-like chamber, built into the side of the tower. It may have contained a dozen cubic yards of s.p.a.ce, and had neither door nor window.

"There are some slabs of stone at the end of the pa.s.sage," said Julia. "They are heavy, but you are strong, you will be able to bring them. We must leave a little s.p.a.ce at the top of the door to admit some air, and for me to pa.s.s food through to our prisoner." She laughed with a feverish merriment. "It will be like feeding the animals at the Zoo," she said.

Mark signified his approval by a nod.

"And is this the way?" he asked, turning round and starting off in the opposite direction.

"No, no!" Julie cried, laying a detaining hand upon his arm. "I don't know what there is down there. I think it is a well. See, you are on the very edge."

She cast the light on to a round dark opening in the ground some six feet in front of and below them. From where they stood the floor began to slant suddenly and steeply downward, so that if Mark had taken another step, it looked as if nothing could have prevented his sliding down into the gaping circle of blackness at the bottom.

Julia shuddered violently.

"Oh," she cried, "if you had gone over! Come away, do come away!"

"It's a funny sort of well," he said, "Looks to me like something else.

Did you ever hear of oubliettes, Julia?"

Juliet, as she heard him, grew white with terror.

"Julia, Julia," she cried, "you won't let him throw me down there?"

"No, no," said Julia. "He would not. There is no reason.... Mark," she urged, "come away from here."

But he only laughed shortly.

"Don't be so hysterical," he said, and continued to bend his gaze upon the hole at the bottom of the slope. It seemed to have a sort of fascination for him. Finally he picked a piece of loose mortar from the wall and threw it down into the gap. A second later there was a dull sound which might have been a splash. "Perhaps it is a well after all. Did you think it sounded as if it had fallen into water?"