Who? Part 20

"I can't believe you are," interrupted Guy.

"I feel sure that that beggar I told you about was a detective."

"Why?"

"He was evidently waiting for me and I couldn't shake him off till he had had a good look at the jewels."

"It is much more likely that he was waiting for a penny than for you, and beggars are usually persistent. I see no possible reason why the police should be shadowing you. It is your guilty conscience that makes you so suspicious."

"You may be right; I certainly hope you are, but till I am sure of it, I don't dare to run the risk of being seen with Miss Prentice. As she is in no condition to go about alone, I have been worrying a good deal as to how to get her out of the Home; so I thought--it occurred to me--that--you are the person to do it."

"Thanks, awfully! So you leave me the pleasant task of running off with a servant-girl who is 'wanted' by the police! You are really too unselfish!"

"Miss Prentice is a lady," Cyril angrily a.s.serted.

"H'm," Campbell e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed skeptically. "That she is a beauty I do not doubt, and she has certainly played her cards very skilfully."

"Don't you dare to speak of her like that," cried Cyril, clenching his fists and half starting to his feet.

"By Jove, old man! You're smitten with her," exclaimed Campbell, staring aghast at his friend.

Cyril flushed darkly under his tan.

"Certainly not, but I have the greatest respect for this unfortunate young woman, and don't you forget it again."

Campbell smiled incredulously.

"Oh, very well! Believe what you like, but I didn't think you were the sort of man who never credits a fellow with disinterested motives, if he behaves half-way decently to a woman."

"Steady now, Cyril. Don't let's quarrel. You mustn't take offence so easily. I have never seen the young lady, remember. And you know I will help you even against my better judgment."

"You're a good chap, Guy."

"Thanks! Now let us first of all consider Miss Prentice's case dispa.s.sionately. I want to be sure of my facts; then I may be able to form some conjecture as to why Wilmersley was murdered and how the jewels came into Miss Prentice's possession. You tell me that it has been proved that she really left Geralton on the afternoon before the murder?"

"Yes; the carrier swears he drove her into Newhaven and put her down near the station. Further than that they have luckily not been able to trace her."

"Now your idea is that Miss Prentice, having in some way managed to secure a car, returned to Geralton that evening and got into the castle through the library window?"

"No, I doubt if she entered the castle. I can think of no reason why she should have done so," said Cyril.

"In that case, how do you account for her injuries? Who could have flogged her except your charming cousin?"

"I hadn't thought of that!" exclaimed Cyril.

"Granting that she is Priscilla Prentice, the only hypothesis I can think of which explains her predicament is this: Having planned to rescue her mistress, she was only waiting for a favourable opportunity to present itself. The doctor's visit determined her to act at once. I agree with you that to re-enter Geralton was not her original intention, but while waiting under the library window for Lady Wilmersley to join her, she hears Wilmersley ill-treating his wife, so she climbs in and rushes to the latter's a.s.sistance."

"Yes, yes," a.s.sented Cyril with shining eyes.

"But she is overpowered by Wilmersley," continued Campbell, warming to his theme, "who, insane with rage, flogs her unmercifully. Then Lady Wilmersley, fearing the girl will be killed, seizes the pistol, which is lying on the desk, and fires at her husband----"

"I am convinced that that is just what happened," cried Cyril.

"Don't be too sure of it; still, it seems to me that that theory hangs together pretty well," Campbell complacently agreed. "Of course, neither woman contemplated murder. Wilmersley's death completely unnerved them.

If the gardener's wife heard a cry coming from the car, it is possible that one or the other had an attack of hysterics. Now about the jewels--I believe Miss Prentice took charge of them, either because Lady Wilmersley was unfit to a.s.sume such a responsibility or because they agreed that she could the more easily dispose of them. I think that Miss Prentice's hurried trip to town was undertaken not in order to avoid arrest, but primarily to raise money, of which they must have had great need, and possibly also to rejoin her mistress, who, now that we know that she made her escape in a car, is probably hiding somewhere either in London itself or in its vicinity."

"Guy, you are a wonder. You have thought of everything," cried Cyril admiringly.

"Of course, I may be quite wrong. These are only suppositions, remember," Campbell modestly reminded him. "By the way, what have you done with the jewels? I can't believe that you are in any danger of arrest, but if there is the remotest chance of such a thing, it wouldn't look very well if they were found in your possession."

"I had thought of that. I was even afraid that my rooms might be searched in my absence, so I took them with me."

"They are here?"

"Yes, in my pocket. I have hidden the bag and to-night I mean to burn it."

"Your pocket is not a very safe repository."

"Exactly. That is why I want you to take charge of them," said Cyril.

"Oh, very well," sighed Campbell, with mock resignation. "In for a penny, in for a pound. I shall probably end by being arrested as a receiver of stolen property! But now we must consider what we had better do with Miss Prentice."

"I think I shall hire a cottage in the country for her."

"If you did that, the police would find her immediately. The only safe hiding-place is a crowd."

"You think so?" Cyril looked doubtful.

"I am sure of it. Now let me see: Where is she least likely to attract attention? It must be a place where you could manage to see her without being compromised, and, if possible, without being observed. I have it!

A hotel. The Hotel George is the very place. In a huge caravansary like that all sorts and conditions of people jostle each other without exciting comment. Besides, the police are less likely to look among the guests of such an expensive hotel for a poor maid servant or in such a public resort for a fugitive from justice."

"You are right!" cried Cyril enthusiastically.

"But in her present condition," continued Campbell, "I don't see how she could remain there alone."

"Certainly not. She must have some woman with her."

"Exactly. But what trustworthy woman could you get to undertake such a task? Perhaps one of the nurses----"

"No," Cyril hastily interrupted him. "When she leaves the nursing home, all trace of her must be lost. At any moment the police may discover that a woman whom I have represented to be my wife has been a patient there. That will naturally arouse their suspicions and they will do their utmost to discover who it is that I am protecting with my name.

No, a nurse would never do. For one thing, she would feel called upon to report to the doctor."

"You might bribe her not to do so," suggested Guy.

"I shouldn't dare to trust to an absolutely unknown quant.i.ty. Oh, if I only knew a respectable woman on whom I could rely! I would pay her a small fortune for her services."

"I know somebody who might do," said Campbell. "Her name is Miss Trevor and she used to be my sister's governess. She is too old to teach now and I fancy has a hard time to make both ends meet. The only trouble is that she is so conscientious that she would rather starve than be mixed up in anything she did not consider perfectly honourable and above board. If I told her that she was to chaperon a young lady whom the police were looking for, she would be so indignant that I doubt if she would ever speak to me again."