The Chestermarke Instinct Part 14

"They're not my princ.i.p.als any longer," answered Neale. He laid down some books and an old jacket on the table. "That's my old working coat,"

he went on, with a laugh. "I've worn it for the last time--at Chestermarke's. They've dismissed me."

Lord Ellersdeane turned sharply from the window, and Betty indulged in a cry of indignation.

"Dismissed--you?" she exclaimed. "Dismissed!"

"With a quarter's salary in lieu of notice," laughed Neale, slapping his pocket. "I've got it here--in gold."

"But--why?" asked Betty.

Neale shook his head at her.

"Because you told Joseph that I didn't believe them when they said that some of their securities were missing," he answered. "You did it! As soon as you'd gone, they had me in, told me that it was contrary to their principles to retain servants who took sides with other people against them, handed me a cheque, and told me to cash it forthwith and depart. And--here I am!"

"You don't seem to mind this very much, Mr. Neale," observed the Earl, looking keenly at this victim of summary treatment. "Do you?"

"If your lordship really wants to know," answered Neale, "I don't! I'm truly thankful. It's only what would have happened--in another way. I meant to leave Chestermarke's. If it hadn't been for Mr. Horbury, I should have left ages ago. I hate banking! I hated the life. And--I dislike Chestermarke's! Immensely! Now, I'll go and have a free life somewhere in Canada or some equally s.p.a.cious clime--where I can breathe."

"Not at all!" said Betty decidedly. "You shall come and be my manager in London. The brewery wants one, badly. You shall have a handsome salary, Wallie--much more than you had at that beastly bank!"

"Very kind of you, I'm sure," laughed Neale. "But I think I'm inclined to put breweries in the same line with banks. Don't you be too rash, Betty--I'm not exactly cut out for commercialism. Not," he added reflectively, "not that I haven't been a very good servant to Chestermarke's. I have! But Chestermarkes are--what they are!"

The Earl, who had been watching the two young people with something of amused interest, suddenly came forward from the window.

"Mr. Neale!" he said.

"My lord!" responded Neale.

"What's your honest opinion about your late princ.i.p.als?" asked the Earl.

Neale shook his head slowly and significantly.

"I don't know," he answered.

"Do you know that they've--just now--refused Miss Fosd.y.k.e permission to examine her uncle's belongings?" continued the Earl. "That they wouldn't even let her enter the house?"

"No, I didn't know," replied Neale. "But I'm not surprised. Nothing that those two could do would ever surprise me."

"Feeling that, what do you advise in this case?" asked the Earl.

"Come!--you're no longer in their employ--you can speak freely now. What do you think?"

"Well," said Neale, after a pause, and speaking with unusual gravity, "I think the police ought to make a thorough examination of the bank-house--I'm surprised it hasn't been thought of before."

The Earl picked up his hat.

"I've been thinking of it all the morning!" he said. "Come--let us all go round to Polke."

CHAPTER XI

THE SEARCH-WARRANT

As they turned out of the Market-Place into the street leading to the police-station, Lord Ellersdeane and his companions became aware of a curious figure which was slowly preceding them--that of a very old man whose ma.s.sive head and long white hair, falling in thick shocks about his neck, was innocent of covering, whose tall, erect form was closely wrapped about in a great, many-caped horseman's cloak which looked as if it had descended to him from some early Georgian ancestor. In one hand he carried a long staff; the other clutched an ancient folio; altogether he was something very much out of the common, and Neale, catching sight of him, nudged Betty Fosd.y.k.e's elbow and pointed ahead.

"One of the sights of Scarnham!" he whispered. "Old Batterley, the antiquary. Never seen with a hat, and never without that cloak, his staff, and a book under his arm. You needn't be astonished if he suddenly stops and begins reading his book in the open street--it's a habit of his."

But the antiquary apparently had other business. He turned into the police-station, and when the three visitors followed him a moment later, he was already in Polke's private office, and Polke and Starmidge were gazing speculatively at him. Polke turned to the newcomers, as the old man, having fitted on a pair of large spectacles, recognized the Earl and executed a deep bow.

"Mr. Batterley's just called with a suggestion, my lord," observed Polke, good-humouredly. "He's heard of Mr. Horbury's disappearance, and of the loss of your lordship's jewels, and he says that an explanation of the whole thing may be got if we search the bank-house."

"Thoroughly!" said Batterley, with a warning shake of his big head.

"Thoroughly--thoroughly, Mr. Polke! No use just walking through the rooms, and seeing what any housemaid would see--the thing must be done properly. Your lordship," he continued, turning to the Earl, "knows that many houses in our Market-Place possess secret pa.s.sages, double-staircases, and the like--Horbury's house is certainly one of those that do. It has, of course, been modernized. My memory is not quite as good as it was, but I have a recollection that when I was a boy, well over seventy years ago--I am, as your lordship is aware, nearer ninety than eighty--there were hiding-places discovered in the bank-house at the time Matthew Chestermarke, grandfather of the present Gabriel, had it altered: in fact, I am quite sure I was taken by my father to see them. Now, of course, many of these places were bricked up, and so on, but I think--it is my impression--that a double staircase was left untouched, and some recesses in the panelling of the garden-room. That garden-room, Mr. Polke--if you know what I mean?"

"Mr. Batterley," remarked the Earl, "means the panelled room which looks out on the garden. Mr. Horbury has used it as a study."

"The garden-room," continued the old antiquary, "should be particularly examined. It is into that room that the double staircase opens--by a door concealed in the recess at the side of the fire-place. There were, I am sure, recesses behind the panelling in that room. Now, Horbury may have known of them--he had tastes of an antiquarian disposition--in an amateur way, you know. At any rate, Mr. Polke, you should examine the house--and especially that room, for Horbury may have hidden Lord Ellersdeane's property there. A deeply interesting room that!" added the old man musingly. "I haven't been in it for some sixty years or so, but I remember it quite well. It was in that room that Jasper Chestermarke murdered Sir Gervase Rudd."

Starmidge, who, like the rest of them, had been listening eagerly to Batterley's talk, turned sharply to him.

"Did you say murdered, sir?" he said.

"A well-known story!" answered the old man half-impatiently, as he rose from his chair. "An ancestor of these Chestermarkes--he killed a man in that very room. Well--that's what I suggest, Mr. Polke. And--for another reason. As Lord Ellersdeane there knows--being, as his lordship is, a member of our society--the bank-house is so old that underneath it there may be such matters as old wells, old drains. Now, supposing Horbury had discovered some way under the present house, some secret pa.s.sage or something, and that he went down into it on Sunday--eh? He may have fallen into one of these places--and be lying there dead or helpless.

It's possible, Mr. Polke, it's quite possible. I make the suggestion to you for what it's worth, you know."

The old man bowed himself out and went away, and Polke turned to Lord Ellersdeane and Betty.

"I'm glad your lordship's come in," he said. "Quite apart from what Mr.

Batterley suggests, we'll have to examine that bank-house. It's all nonsense--allowing the Chestermarkes to have their own way about everything! It's time we examined Horbury's effects."

Starmidge turned to Betty.

"Did you succeed in getting in there, Miss Fosd.y.k.e?" he asked.

"No!" replied Betty. "Mr. Joseph Chestermarke absolutely refused me admittance, and his uncle told me to go to a solicitor."

"Good advice, certainly," remarked Polke drily. "You'd better take it, miss. But what's Mr. Neale doing here?"

"Mr. Neale," said the Earl, "has just been summarily dismissed for--to put it plainly--taking sides with Miss Fosd.y.k.e and myself."

"Ho, ho!" exclaimed Polke. "Ah! Well, my lord, there's only one thing to be done, and as your lordship's in town, let us do it at once."

"What?" asked the Earl.

"You must come with me before the borough magistrates--they're sitting now," said Polke, "and make application for a search-warrant. Your lordship will have to swear that you have lost your jewels, and that you have good cause to believe that they may be on the premises occupied lately by Mr. Horbury, to whose care you entrusted them. It's a mere matter of form--we shall get the warrant at once. Then Starmidge and I will go and execute it. Miss Fosd.y.k.e--just do what I suggest, if you please. Mr. Neale will take you to Mr. Pellworthy, the solicitor--he was your uncle's solicitor, and a friend of his. Tell him all about your visit to the bank this morning. Say that you insist, as next-of-kin, on having access to your uncle's belongings. Get Mr. Pellworthy to go with you to the bank. Meet Detective-Sergeant Starmidge and me outside there, in, say, half an hour. Then--we'll see what happens. Now, my lord, if you'll come with me, we'll apply for that search-warrant."