The Solitary Farm Part 42

"The police!" yelled the terrified woman, and her face was pearly white in the brilliant search-light. "Row, Henry; don't stop!"

Lister whipped out a revolver, with which he had been careful to provide himself. "If you don't stop, Vand, I shall shoot," and he levelled it.

But the cripple was too desperate to obey. He bent again to the oars and brought the shallop sweeping right under Cyril's feet. Then, before the young man could conjecture what he intended to do, he stood up in the rocking boat and swung up an oar with the evident intention of striking the man with the revolver into the water. Lister dodged skilfully as the oar came crashing viciously past his ear, and fired at random.

Mrs. Vand shrieked, her husband cursed, as the shot rang out. There came an answering cry from the near distance, and into the glare of the search-light bounded Durgo, naked save for his loin-cloth, black as the pit and furious as the devil who lives therein. Showing his white teeth like those of a wild animal, he raced up to the boat, and without a moment's hesitation flung himself on the figure of Vand as he stood up.

The next moment the light craft was overturned, and Durgo, with the Vands, was struggling in the water. At the same moment the beam of the search-light suddenly vanished, leaving everyone in complete darkness.

And the rain, driven by the triumphant wind, deluged the fields.

CHAPTER XXII

MRS. VAND'S REPENTANCE

Afterwards, Cyril, when questioned, could never clearly recollect what took place. Vand's oar had missed his head, but had struck his right shoulder with considerable force, so that his revolver shot had gone wide of its intended mark. When Bella shut off the beam--and Cyril wondered at the time why she did so--everything was dark and confused.

What with the gloom, the rain and curses from Vand and Durgo, who were struggling in the water, and the shrieks of Mrs. Tunks, added to those of the half-drowned woman, Cyril felt his head whirl; also the blow from the oar had confused him, and he became sick and faint for the moment.

Granny Tunks with commendable forethought had brought out a bullseye lantern, which she must have stolen from some policeman. Flashing this on to the water-way, its light revealed Durgo and the cripple locked in a deadly embrace, and Mrs. Vand clinging to the bank with one hand while she clutched her shawl with the other. Cyril thereupon plunged down the incline and dragged the wretched woman out. Thinking she was about to be arrested she fought like a wild cat, and would have forced the half-dazed young man into the water again, but that Mrs. Tunks brought a chunk of wood with considerable force down on her head.

"What the devil did you do that for?" gasped Cyril furiously; "you've killed her, you old fool!"

"What do I care, deary?" cried Granny shrilly. "I'd kill them both if I could, for the master wants them killed, curse them both!" and she tottered down to the boundary channel, while Cyril carried the inanimate form of Mrs. Vand into the hut. Here he laid her on the floor, and hastily bidding the Romany girl attend her, hurried out again.

"They're dead, both of them! Oh, the master's dead!" yelled Granny Tunks.

With the lantern raised she stood on the bank peering into the water, but there was scarcely enough light to see what was taking place. All sounds had ceased, however, and only the drench of the rain could be heard. But even as Granny spoke, the Romany girl, anxious to see what was taking place, darted out of the cottage with a kind of torch, consisting of tow at the end of a stick steeped in kerosene. This flared redly and flung a crimson glare on the water-ways, and flung also its scarlet light on the bodies of Durgo and the Cripple. These lay half-in and half-out of the water, fast locked together in a death grip. There was no wound apparent on either body, so Cyril conjectured that in the struggle both had been drowned. Durgo's mighty arms were clasped tightly around the slender body of the cripple, but Vand's lean hands were clutching the negro's throat with fierce resolution. Both were quite dead, and even in death Cyril, although he tried, could not drag them apart. That so delicate a man as Vand could have contrived to drown the powerful negro seemed incredible to Cyril: but he soon saw that to kill Durgo the cripple had been willing to sacrifice himself. Probably he had dragged Durgo under water, and having a grip on the man's throat had squeezed the life out of him with a madman's despairing force. The weak had confounded the strong on this occasion in a most p.r.o.nounced manner.

Meanwhile, Granny Tunks was bewailing the loss of her master, and the sharp-featured Romany girl echoed her cries. The screams of both brought out Luke, who appeared at the fire-lighted door of the hut looking much better than Cyril expected him to be, seeing how severe had been his last illness. He had something in his hands, and in the flaring light of the torch Lister saw that it was a somewhat small black bag. In a moment the young man guessed that Luke Tunks had been robbing the unconscious Mrs. Vand, as he remembered that she had kept a close grip of something under her shawl even while she was struggling with him.

"The jewels!" cried Cyril, too excited to be cautious, and leaped for the gipsy. "Give me the jewels."

"They're mine, blast you!" growled Luke, trying to evade him. "Missus gave 'em to me. Leave me alone. Granny, help me!"

Mrs. Tunks ran to the rescue, for the mention of jewels stirred her avaricious blood like the call of a trumpet. But already Cyril had plucked the black bag from the still weak gipsy, and Luke was not strong enough yet to make a fight for it. Aided vigorously by the Romany girl, the old woman would have closed in, but that a shout from the opposite bank made all turn. A dozen bullseyes were flashing over the stream.

Cyril, gripping the bag, dashed the woman and the man aside and sprang to the verge of the channel.

"Is that you, Inspector Inglis?" he shouted.

"Yes; who are you?" came the sharp official tones.

"Cyril Lister. Come over yourself, or send some men. Vand and Durgo, the negro, are dead."

There was a confused muttering of surprise amongst the constables. Then came Inglis's clean-cut speech. "We heard a shot. Is----"

"No. Durgo struggled with Vand in the water-way, and they were both drowned. These gipsies here are making trouble, and Mrs. Vand is unconscious in the hut. Come across and take charge."

"How the devil can we get across here?" demanded Inglis. "It's twenty feet of water. Here you men, go round by the bridge."

"It's broken down," yelled Cyril.

"Who broke it?"

"Durgo. Let go, you old devil!" and Cyril swung Granny Tunks aside. The woman was still trying to clutch the jewels. "Inglis, you'll have to swim across. There's no other way."

No sooner had Lister suggested this expedient than Inglis obeyed it with the prompt.i.tude of an Englishman. Several heavy bodies were heard plunging into the water, and the bullseye lanterns were seen approaching like moving glow-worms as their swimming owners held them above their several heads. Had Granny Tunks been strong enough she would have attempted to prevent the landing of this hostile force; but Luke was useless and the Romany girl still more so. All she could do was to enter the fortress of her hut and bar the door, which she accordingly did, while Luke, mindful that he might be arrested for the murders as an accomplice after the fact, slunk hastily into the standing corn. Shortly Cyril was shaking hands with a dripping police inspector, and surrounded by six dripping constables. As the half dozen men and their officer were already wetted to the bone by incessant rain, the plunge into the channel did not trouble them in the least; indeed, they looked as though they rather enjoyed the adventure.

"But we may as well get under shelter to hear your story," suggested Inglis, and knocked loudly at the door of the hut. As Granny would not open, he simply turned to his men and gave a sharp order. "Break it down," said Inglis, and in less than a minute the constables were marching into the small apartment over the fallen door.

"I'll have the law on you for this!" screeched Mrs. Tunks, shaking her fist.

"You'll get a stomach-full of law, I have no doubt, before I have done with you," retorted Inglis. "Who is this?" and he stared at the inanimate form on the earthen floor amidst pools of water.

"Vand's wife, who was trying to escape with him," said Cyril. "She is insensible from a blow this old demon gave her."

"She'd have had you in the water else," hissed Mrs. Tunks scornfully.

"It wasn't unlikely, seeing how she fought. Have you any brandy?"

"A trifle for my spasms," admitted Granny sullenly.

"Then bring it out and revive Mrs. Vand," said Inglis impatiently. "It will be necessary for me to question her. Mr. Lister"--he brought his mouth very close to the young man's ear and spoke in a whisper--"is what that n.i.g.g.e.r told me quite true?"

"About Vand murdering Huxham? I believe it is, but I can't be sure. I got these, however, from Mrs. Vand. Don't let the old hag come near or she'll try and loot them."

"Loot what?" demanded Inglis, on seeing Cyril open the black bag, after he had motioned the constables to surround the table. "Oh, by Jupiter!"

His surprised e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns were echoed by his men, for Lister emptied on the table many glittering stones, cut and uncut. Chiefly they were diamonds, but also could be seen sapphires, rubies, pearls, and emeralds, all glowing with rainbow splendour in the fierce radiance of the bullseye lanterns. Mrs. Tunks whimpered like a beaten dog when she saw what she had missed, and tried to dart under a policeman's arm. "No you don't!" said the man gruffly, and gripped her lean wrist as her hand stretched greedily over the flaming heap of gems.

"Whose are these?" asked the inspector, quite awed by this wealth.

"Miss Huxham's," said Cyril, making a ready excuse until such time as the matter could be looked into, for he did not wish Inglis to take possession of Bella's fortune. "Her father left her these and the house to Mrs. Vand; but the woman withheld the jewels from her niece, and tried to-night to bolt with them. Then Luke Tunks attempted to steal them from her, while she lay unconscious here. Luckily I was enabled to rescue them, and now I can restore them to Miss Huxham."

"Where is Luke Tunks?" asked the inspector, while Cyril packed the gems in a chamois leather bag which he found in what Granny had called in her trance the portmanteau.

"Gone where you won't get him," grunted Mrs. Tunks, who was holding a gla.s.s of brandy to Mrs. Vand's white lips.

"You must get him, Inglis," said Cyril insistently. "He knows all about the murder of Huxham, and has been blackmailing the Vands."

"So that n.i.g.g.e.r said. By the way, we must see to the bodies." Inglis turned to the door, then looked back at Lister. "I wish I knew what this all meant, sir," he remarked, much puzzled.

"You shall know everything in due time, and a very queer story it is."

The inspector might have gone on asking questions, but at that moment Bella Huxham, breathless and wet, appeared in the doorway. In the semi-darkness she could scarcely see her lover, and called him. "Cyril!

Cyril! what has happened?" she panted. "I have run all the way, and--who are these?"