The Opal Serpent Part 17

So the two parted. Hurd went away to have the bills printed, and Paul returned to Gwynne Street to arrange with Sylvia about their early marriage. Deborah was in the seventh heaven of delight that her young mistress would soon be in a safe haven and enjoy the protection of an honorable man. Knowing that she would soon be relieved from care, she told Bart Tawsey that they would be married at the same time as the young couple, and that the laundry would be started as soon as Mr. and Mrs. Beecot left for the Continent. Bart, of course, agreed--he always did agree with Deborah--and so everything was nicely arranged.

Meanwhile Pash worked to prove the will, pay the death-duties, and to place Sylvia in full possession of her property. He found in one of the safes the certificate of the girl's birth, and also the marriage certificate of Aaron Norman in the name of Lemuel Krill. The man evidently had his doubts of the marriage being a legal one if contracted under his _alias_. He had married Lillian Garner, who was described as a spinster. But who she was and where she came from, and what her position in life might be could not be discovered. Krill was married in a quiet city church, and Pash, having searched, found everything in order. Mrs.

Krill--or Norman as she was known--lived only a year or two after her marriage, and then died, leaving Sylvia to the care of her husband.

There were several nurses in succession, until Deborah grew old enough to attend alone on her young mistress. Then Norman dismissed the nurse, and Deborah had been Sylvia's slave and Aaron's servant until the tragic hour of his death. So, everything being in order, there was no difficulty in placing Sylvia in possession of her property.

Pash was engaged in this congenial work for several weeks, and during that time all went smoothly. Paul paid daily visits to the Gwynne Street house, which was to be vacated as soon as he made Sylvia his wife.

Deborah searched for her laundry and obtained the premises she wanted at a moderate rental. Sylvia basked in the sunshine of her future husband's love, and Hurd hunted for the a.s.sa.s.sin of the late Mr. Norman without success. The hand-bills with his portrait and real name, and a description of the circ.u.mstances of his death, were scattered broadcast over the country from Land's End to John-O'Groats, but hitherto no one had applied for the reward. The name of Krill seemed to be a rare one, and the dead man apparently had no relatives, for no one took the slightest interest in the bills beyond envying the lucky person who would gain the large reward offered for the conviction of the murderer.

Then, one day Deborah, while cleaning out the cellar, found a piece of paper which had slipped down behind one of the safes. These had not been removed for many years, and the paper, apparently placed carelessly on top, had accidentally dropped behind. Deborah, always thinking something might reveal the past to Sylvia and afford a clue to the a.s.sa.s.sin, brought the paper to her mistress. It proved to be a few lines of a letter, commenced but never finished. But the few lines were of deep interest.

"My dear daughter," these ran, "when I die you will find that I married your mother under the name of Lemuel Krill. That is my real name, but I wish you to continue to call yourself Norman for necessary reasons. If the name of Krill gets into the papers there will be great trouble. Keep it from the public. I can tell you where to find the reasons for this as I have written--" Here the letter ended abruptly without any signature.

Norman apparently was writing it when interrupted, and had placed it unfinished on the top of the safe, whence it had fallen behind to be discovered by Deborah. And now it had strangely come to light, but too late for the request to be carried out.

"Oh, Paul," said Sylvia, in dismay, when they read this together, "and the bills are already published with the real name of my father."

"It is unfortunate," admitted Paul, frowning. "But, after all, your father may have been troubled unnecessarily. For over the fortnight the bills have been out and no one seems to take an interest in the matter."

"But I think we ought to call the bills in," said Sylvia, uneasily.

"That's not such an easy matter. They are scattered broadcast, and it will be next to impossible to collect them. Besides, the mischief is done. Everyone knows by this time that Aaron Norman is Lemuel Krill, so the trouble whatever it may be, must come."

"What can it be?" asked the girl anxiously.

Paul shook his head. "Heaven only knows," said he, with a heavy heart.

"There is certainly something in your father's past life which he did not wish known and which led to his death. But since the blow has fallen and he is gone, I do not see how the matter can affect you, my darling.

I'll show this to Pash and see what he says. I expect he knows more about your father's past than he will admit."

"But if there should be trouble, Paul--"

"You will have me to take it off your shoulders," he replied, kissing her. "My dearest, do not look so pale. Whatever may happen you will always have me to stand by you. And Deborah also. She is worth a regiment in her fidelity."

So Sylvia was comforted, and Paul, putting the unfinished letter in his pocket, went round to see Pash in his Chancery Lane office. He was stopped in the outer room by a saucy urchin with an impudent face and a bold manner. "Mr. Pash is engaged," said this official, "so you'll 'ave to wait, Mr. Beecot."

Paul looked down at the brat, who was curly-headed and as sharp as a needle. "How do you know my name?" he asked. "I never saw you before."

"I'm the new office-boy," said the urchin, "wishin' to be respectable and leave street-'awking, which ain't what it was. M'name's Tray, an'

I've seen you afore, mister. I 'elped to pull you out from them wheels with the 'aughty gent as guv me a bob fur doin' it."

"Oh, so you helped," said Paul, smiling. "Well, here is another shilling. I am much obliged to you, Master Tray. But from what Deborah Junk says you were a guttersnipe. How did you get this post?"

"I talked m'self int' it," said Tray, importantly. "Newspapers ain't good enough, and you gets pains in wet weather. So I turns a good boy"--he grinned evilly--"and goes to a ragged kids' school to do the 'oly. The superintendent ses I'm a promising case, and he arsked Mr.

Pash, as is also Sunday inclined, to 'elp me. The orfice-boy 'ere went, and I come." Tray tossed the shilling and spat on it for luck as he slipped it into the pocket of quite a respectable pair of trousers. "So I'm on m'waiy to bein' Lord Mayor turn agin Wittington, as they ses in the panymine."

"Well," said Beecot, amused, "I hope you will prove yourself worthy."

Tray winked. "Ho! I'm straight es long es it's wuth m'while. I takes m'sal'ry 'ome to gran, and don't plaiy pitch an' torse n'more." He winked again, and looked as wicked a brat as ever walked.

Paul had his doubts as to what the outcome of Mr. Pash's charity would be, and, being amused, was about to pursue the conversation, when the inner door opened and Pash, looking troubled, appeared. When he saw Paul he started and came forward.

"I was just about to send Tray for you," said he, looking anxious.

"Something unpleasant has come to light in connection with Krill."

Beecot started and brought out the sc.r.a.p of paper. "Look at that," he said, "and you will see that the man warned Sylvia."

Pash glanced hurriedly over the paper. "Most unfortunate," he said, folding it up and puffing out his cheeks; "but it's too late. The name of Krill was in those printed bills--a portrait also, and now--"

"Well, what?" asked Paul, seeing the lawyer hesitated.

"Come inside and you'll see," said Pash, and conducted Beecot into the inner room.

Here sat two ladies. The elder was a woman of over fifty, but who looked younger, owing to her fresh complexion and plump figure. She had a firm face, with hard blue eyes and a rather full-lipped mouth. Her hair was white, and there was a great deal of it. Under a widow's cap it was dressed _a la_ Marie Antoinette, and she looked very handsome in a full-blown, flowery way. She had firm, white hands, rather large, and, as she had removed her black gloves, these, Paul saw, were covered with cheap rings. Altogether a respectable, well-dressed widow, but evidently not a lady.

Nor was the girl beside her, who revealed sufficient similarity of features to announce herself the daughter of the widow. There was the same fresh complexion, full red lips and hard blue eyes. But the hair was of a golden color, and fashionably dressed. The young woman--she likewise was not a lady--was also in black.

"This," said Pash, indicating the elder woman, who smiled, "is Mrs.

Lemuel Krill."

"The wife of the man who called himself Aaron Norman," went on the widow; "and this," she indicated her daughter, "is his heiress."

CHAPTER XI

A CUCKOO IN THE NEST

Paul looked from the fresh-colored woman who spoke so smoothly and so firmly to the apish lawyer hunched in his chair with a sphinx-like look on his wrinkled face. For the moment, so taken aback was he by this astounding announcement, that he could not speak. The younger woman stared at him with her hard blue eyes, and a smile played round her full lips. The mother also looked at him in an engaging way, as though she rather admired his youthful comeliness in spite of his well-brushed, shabby apparel.

"I don't know what you mean," said Beecot at length, "Mr. Pash?"

The lawyer aroused himself to make a concise statement of the case. "So far as I understand," he said in his nervous, irritable way, "these ladies claim to be the wife and daughter of Lemuel Krill, whom we knew as Aaron Norman."

"And I think by his real name also," said the elder woman in her deep, smooth contralto voice, and with the display of an admirable set of teeth. "The bills advertising the reward, and stating the fact of the murder, bore my late husband's real name."

"Norman was not your husband, madam," cried Paul, indignantly.

"I agree with you, sir. Lemuel Krill was my husband. I saw in the newspapers, which penetrate even into the quiet little Hants village I live in, that Aaron Norman had been murdered. I never thought he was the man who had left me more than twenty years ago with an only child to bring up. But the bills offering the reward a.s.sured me that Norman and Krill are one and the same man. Therefore," she drew herself up and looked piercingly at the young man, "I have come to see after the property. I understand from the papers that my daughter is an heiress to millions."

"Not millions," said Pash, hastily. "The newspapers have exaggerated the amount. Five thousand a year, madam, and it is left to Sylvia."

"Who is Sylvia?" asked Mrs. Krill, in the words of Shakespeare's song.

"She is the daughter of Mr. Norman," said Paul, quickly, "and is engaged to marry me."

Mrs. Krill's eyes travelled over his shabby suit from head to foot, and then back again from foot to head. She glanced sideways at her companion, and the girl laughed in a hard, contemptuous manner. "I fear you will be disappointed in losing a rich wife, sir," said the elder woman, sweetly.

"I have not lost the money yet," replied Paul, hotly. "Not that I care for the money."