Witness to the Deed Part 64

Myra had entered in time enough to hear the terrible charge, and for her life seemed to be at an end.

Meanwhile Stratton had stood motionless, gazing down into the dark pit formed by the staircase, with the light of the lamp he held shining full on his haggard face, made more painful by the smile which contracted the lower parts of his countenance, till the last echo of his friend's steps died out, when he turned slowly and walked into his room, closing and fastening both doors.

Then his whole manner changed.

He rushed to the table, set down the lamp so that the gla.s.s shade rattled and nearly flew out of the holder; then, crossing quickly to a cabinet, he took out a decanter and gla.s.s, poured out a heavy draught of brandy, and gulped it down.

The gla.s.s almost dropped from his hand to the table, and he clasped his brow, to stand staring before him fighting to recall his thoughts.

Twice over he threw his head back, and shook it as if something compressed his brain and confused him. Then the stimulant he had taken began to act, and he went to a drawer and took out a new screw-driver, with which, after seeing that the blinds were down and the curtains drawn over the window, he crossed to the door on the left of the fireplace; but only to turn away again, and take up the lamp and place it on a stand, so that it should light him in the work he had in hand.

He was alert and eager now, as, with deft touches, he forced the screw-driver under a piece of moulding at the top and front edge of the door, wrenched them off, and bared some half dozen screw-heads. These he rapidly turned and withdrew, laying them down one by one till all were out, when, from an inner pocket, he took out a key, unlocked the door, threw it open, and went into the bathroom, lamp in hand.

Placing it on the polished lid, he rapidly toiled on till these screws were taken out in turn, when, lifting the lamp with his left hand, he threw up the lid with his right, and stood staring down into the bath with a shudder, which rapidly pa.s.sed away.

The lid fell with a heavy, dull sound, and, with a curious, wondering look, he turned and went slowly back to his table, set down the lamp, caught it up again, and walked into the bathroom, where he again set down the lamp, tore a fly-leaf from a letter in his pocket, folded it into a spill, and lit it at the lamp chimney.

"Will it burn slowly or explode at once?" he said, with a reckless laugh. "Let's see!" and once more he threw up the lid.

CHAPTER FORTY.

FOR HIS SAKE.

Edie rushed to her cousin where she lay p.r.o.ne on the carpet, her face turned toward the shaded lamp, which threw its soft light upon her face, and, even then, in her horror, the girl thought it had never looked so beautiful before; while, as Guest, full of remorse, joined her, he felt ready to bite out his tongue in impotent rage against himself for a boyish babbler in making known to two gentlewomen his fearful discovery at the chambers.

"Shall I ring?" he said excitedly; and he was half-way to the bell before Edie checked him.

"Ring? No; you absurd man!" she cried impatiently. "Lock the doors.

n.o.body must know of this but us. Here, quick, water."

Guest was hurrying to obey the businesslike little body's orders about the doors when she checked him again.

"No, no; it would make matters worse. n.o.body is likely to come till uncle leaves the library. Water. Throw those flowers out of that great gla.s.s bowl."

Guest obeyed, and bore the great iridescent vessel, from which he had tossed some orchids, to her side.

"That's right. Hold it closer. Poor darling! My dearest Myra, what have you done to have to suffer all this terrible pain?"

There were drops other than the cold ones to besprinkle the white face Edie had lifted into her lap, as she sat on the floor, bending down from time to time to kiss the marble forehead and contracted eyelids as she spoke.

"Percy, dear," she said, as he knelt by her, helpful, but, in spite of the trouble, full of mute worship for the clever little body before him.

His eyes met hers, and flashed their delight, as the second word seemed to clinch others which she had spoken that night.

"This is all a secret. Even uncle must not know yet till we have had a long talk with aunt. She can be quite like a lawyer in giving advice."

"But, Edie!"

"No, no; we can have no hesitation. What I say is right. I'm very fond of Malcolm Stratton; and, if he has done this dreadful thing, his punishment must not come through us."

"You're a little Queen of Sheba," he whispered pa.s.sionately.

"Hush! That's not behaving like Solomon. Be wise, please. O Myra, Myra! Stop; there are some salts on the chimney-piece in the front room. No, no; stay! She is coming to."

For Myra turned her head slightly on one side, and muttered a few incoherent words in a low, weary tone; and at last opened her eyes to let them rest on Guest's face as he knelt by her.

There was no recognition for a few moments, as she lay back, gazing dreamily at him. Then thought resumed its power in her brain, and her face was convulsed by a spasm.

Starting up, she caught his arm.

"Is it all true?" she cried, in a low, husky whisper.

Guest gave her a pitying, appealing look, but he did not speak.

"Yes, it must be true," she said, as she rose to her feet, and stood supporting herself by Guest's arm, while Edie held her hand. "You have not told anyone?" she said eagerly.

"No; I came here as soon as I knew."

"Where is Mr Stratton?"

"At his chambers."

"And you, his friend, have left him at such a time?"

"It was at his wish," said Guest gently; "his secret is safe with me."

"Yes. He trusts you. I trust you. Percy Guest, Edie, even if he is guilty, he must be saved. No, no, it could not be guilt. I must not be weak now. He may be innocent, and the law can be so cruel. Who knows what may be the cause!"

She pressed her hands to her temples for a few moments, and then the power to think grew clearer.

"Go to him--from me. Tell him I bid him leave England at once. Leave with him, if you can be of help. Stop. He is not rich. Edie, all the money you have. Mr Guest, take this, too, and I will get more. Now go, and remember that you are his friend. Write to me and Edie, and we will send; but, though all is over, let me know that his life is safe."

Guest caught the hand she extended with her purse and Edie's, kissed it reverently, and closed the fingers tightly round the purses, and gently thrust them from him.

"What!" Myra cried pa.s.sionately; "you refuse?"

"I want to help you both," he replied gravely.

"O Percy!" cried Edie, with the tears starting to her eyes, and her tone of reproach thrilled him.

"Don't speak to me like that," he said. "You mean well, but to do what you say is to condemn him at once in everybody's sight. It is all so foreign to my poor friend's nature that, even knowing what I do, I cling to the belief in his innocence."

"Yes; he must be innocent," cried Myra. "He could not be what you say."

"Then should I be right in taking money and your message, saying to him, though not in words--'Fly for your life, like a hunted criminal'? I could not do it. Myra, Edie--think, pray, what you are urging. It would be better advice to him to say--'Give yourself up, and let a jury of your fellow-countrymen decide.'"