The Firm of Girdlestone Part 55

"I shall insist upon a coroner's inquest," his father answered.

"An inquest! Are you mad?"

"When you have heard me I think that you will come to just the opposite conclusion. I think that I have hit upon a scheme which is really neat--neat in its simplicity." He rubbed his hands together, and showed his long yellow fangs in his enjoyment of his own astuteness.

Burt and Ezra leaned forward to listen, while the old man sank his voice to a whisper.

"They think that she is insane," he said.

"Yes."

"There's a small door in the boundary wall which leads out to the railway line."

"Well, what of that?"

"Suppose that door to be left open, would it be an impossible thing for a crazy woman to slip out through it, and to be run over by the ten o'clock express?"

"If she would only get in the way of it."

"You don't quite catch my idea yet. Suppose that the express ran over the dead body of a woman, would there be anything to prove afterwards that she _was_ dead, and not alive at the time of the accident? Do you think that it would ever occur to any one's mind that the express ran over a dead body?"

"I see your meaning," said his son thoughtfully. "You would settle her, and then put her there."

"Of course. What could be more delightfully simple. Friend Burt here does his work; we carry her through the garden gate, and lay her on the darkest part of the rails. Then we miss her at the house. There is an alarm and a search. The gate is found open. We naturally go through with lanterns, and find her on the line. I don't think we need fear the coroner, or any one else then?"

"He's a sharp 'un, is the guv'nor," cried Burt, slapping his thigh enthusiastically. "It's the downiest lay I have heard this many a day."

"I believe you are the devil incarnate," said Ezra, looking at his father with a mixture of horror and of admiration. "But how about Jorrocks and Stevens and Rebecca? Would you trust them?"

"Certainly not!" Girdlestone answered. "It is not necessary. Mr. Burt can do his part of the business out of doors. We can entice her out upon some excuse. There is no reason why any one should have a suspicion of the truth."

"But they know that she is not mad."

"They will think that she did it on purpose. The secret will be locked up in our three b.r.e.a.s.t.s. After one night's work our friend here goes to the colonies a prosperous man, and the firm of Girdlestone holds up its head once more, stainless and irreproachable."

"Speak low!" said Ezra, in a whisper. "I hear her coming downstairs."

They listened to her light springy footstep as it pa.s.sed the door.

"Come here, Burt," he said, after a pause. "She is at work on the lawn.

Come and have a look at her."

They all went over to the window, and looked out. It was then that Kate, glancing up, saw the three cruel faces surveying her.

"She's a rare well-built 'un," said Burt, as he stepped back from the window. "It is the ugliest job as ever I was on."

"But we can rely upon you?" Girdlestone asked, looking at him with puckered eyes.

"You bet--as long as you pay me," the navvy answered phlegmatically, and went back to his pipe and to Mrs. Jorrocks' bottle of Hollands.

CHAPTER XLIII.

THE BAIT ON THE HOOK.

The grey winter evening was beginning to steal in before the details had all been arranged by the conspirators. It had grown so chill that Kate had abandoned her attempt at gardening, and had gone back to her room.

Ezra left his father and Burt by the fire and came out to the open hall-door. The grim old trees looked gaunt and eerie as they waved their naked arms about in the cutting wind. A slight fog had come up from the sea and lay in light wreaths over the upper branches, like a thin veil of gauze. Ezra was shivering as he surveyed the dreary scene, when he felt a hand on his arm, and looking round saw that the maid Rebecca was standing beside him.

"Haven't you got one word for me?" she said sadly, looking up into his face. "It's but once a week, and then never a word of greeting."

"I didn't see you, my la.s.s," Ezra answered. "How does the Priory suit you?"

"One place is the same as another to me," she said drearily. "You asked me to come here, and I have come. You said once that you would let me know how I could serve you down here. When am I to know?"

"Why, there's no secret about that. You do serve me when you look after my father as you have done these weeks back. That old woman isn't fit to manage the whole place by herself."

"That wasn't what you meant, though," said the girl, looking at him with questioning eyes. "I remember your face now as you spoke the words.

You have something on your mind, and have now, only you keep it to yourself. Why won't you trust me with it?"

"Don't be a fool!" answered Ezra curtly. "I have a great deal to worry me in business matters. Much good it would do telling you about them!"

"It's more than that," said Rebecca doggedly. "Who is that man who has come down?"

"A business man from London. He has come to consult my father about money matters. Any more questions you would like to ask?"

"I should like to know how long we are to be kept down here, and what the meaning of it all may be."

"We are going back before the end of the winter, and the meaning of it is that Miss Harston was not well and needed a change of air. Now are you satisfied?" He was determined to allay as far as possible any suspicions that the girl might have previously formed.

"And what brings _you_ down here?" she asked, with the same searching look. "You don't come down into this hole without some good reason.

I did think at first that you might come down in order to see me, but you soon showed me that it wasn't that. There was a time when you was fond of me."

"So I am now, la.s.s."

"Ay, very fond! Not a word nor a look from you last time you came.

You must have some reason, though, that brings you here."

"There's nothing wonderful in a man coming to see his own father,"

"Much you cared for him in London," she cried, with a shrill laugh.

"If he was under the sod you would not be the sadder. It's my belief as you come down after that doll-faced missy upstairs."

"Dry up, now!" said Ezra roughly. "I've had enough of your confounded nonsense."

"You don't talk in that style to her," she said excitedly. "You scorn me, but I know this, that if I can't have your love no one else shall.

I've got a dash of the gipsy in me, as you know. Rather than that girl should have you, I would knife her and you, too!" She shook her clenched right hand as she spoke, and her face was so full of vindictive pa.s.sion that Ezra was astonished.

"I always knew that you were a spitfire," he said, "but you never came it quite so strong as this before."