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<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> <h3>A CONSULTATION</h3> A week later Bernard was seated in the sitting room on the first floor of the castle looking out at the landscape. It was picturesque but depressing. The sun had just set behind dark clouds, and the red glare behind them looked like a fire in a grate. The marshes were covered with white mist, and the arm of the sea that reached up to the castle walls resembled a stream of blood. And over all the veil of night was falling darker and darker. Even to a mind at ease the prospect would have been cheerless, but to Bernard in his present low spirits it was positively suicidal. He felt more miserable than he had ever done in his life. While watching and waiting, he knew not for what, the sound of voices was heard. As he started to his feet with that nervousness which had increased of late, the door opened slowly and Mark Durham entered smiling. Bernard with an ejaculation of surprise hastened towards him with outstretched hands. "My dear Mark, how unexpected and how jolly. I was just dying to see someone. When did you arrive?" "This very minute, and Mrs. Moon"—he turned to the door through which could be seen the gigantic form of the ogress—"showed me up at once. I have come for the night"—he raised his voice for the benefit of the housekeeper—"on business connected with Lord Conniston's estate." [pg 171] "Sir," said Mrs. Moon, peering in, "don't tell me as his lordship is going to fight." "No! no! Make yourself easy. He has left the army. Should he go to the front it will be in a way more befitting his rank." "And a relief it is to hear that," said Mrs. Moon, placing a large hand on her ample bosom. "When Jerry, who is my grandson, wrote me his lordship was a common soldier, I could have fainted, but what I thought Victoria would bring me to with hot water like the spiteful imp of darkness she is." "Did Jerry write?" asked Durham, making a sign to Gore to be silent. "Of course he did, and said as he had been turned out of his employment for a—recognizing of his lordship—a thing I should never have thought his lordship would have done, seeing he got my own flesh and blood, which Jerry is, the situation." "It was not for that reason, Mrs. Moon. Jerry told a lie if he wrote that to you." "Printed or speaking lies, he tells plenty," moaned the giantess. "Oh dear me, so like his poor dear father, though I thumped him rarely when I had the strength. But what's my Jerry, bad as he is and liar though he be, a-doing of now? He may be starving in that nasty London, and a rare child he was for tit-bits." "I can tell you where he is, Mrs. Moon," broke in Bernard. "I have just heard." He glanced towards the table wherein lay a letter. "He is a page in the house of Miss Plantagenet at Hurseton." "Deary me," said Mrs. Moon in mild surprise. "I do hope as he'll give satisfaction, and pleased I am. I must tell Victoria, she being taken up greatly with my Jerry, though both of them be but young." [pg 172] Durham detained her. "No! Don't say a word to Victoria." "And why not, sir?" "If you do Jerry will lose his post," explained Durham. "Miss Plantagenet has heard of Victoria, and she doesn't seem to be a good companion for Jerry. Only on condition that Victoria has nothing to do with Jerry will the boy be kept on. It is for this reason he has not been over to see you." "And him being so near and denying his own flesh and blood," wailed Mrs. Moon, raising her large hands; "but Jerry was always bad. Well, I don't want him to lose his place, so I'll hold my tongue, and right Miss Plantagenet is, Victoria being a bad and wicked critter as I'd take my Bible oath. If only another girl would stop here I'd give Victoria the walking-ticket. But, bless you, the castle's that dismal and the——" Here Durham interrupted impatiently. "Go and send up some tea, Mrs. Moon, and hold your tongue about Jerry's whereabouts. If Victoria learns, she may go over, and then Jerry would be dismissed." "To the gallows," said the housekeeper, closing the door, "to which he will assuredly go," she added, opening it again, "he taking after his forebears, who were hanged for many evils. Tea did you say. Ah, well, there's some comfort in tea," and muttering to herself the weak old creature left the two gentlemen to themselves. By this time Bernard had returned to the fire and was pushing forward a chair for Durham. "I am glad to see you, Mark," said he, cordially. "But why did you stop me speaking?" "I didn't stop you, worse luck," said Durham, running [pg 173] his hand through his curly hair. "I didn't want Mrs. Moon to know where Jerry was. I only hope she will hold her tongue; but if she does tell Victoria, and she is weak enough to babble a lot, Jerry will learn in a way I need not describe that you are here." Bernard saw that he had been foolish and bit his lip. "I should have been silent," he said. "But the fact is, Mark, I didn't think of Jerry being dangerous. Alice simply wrote saying that he had been engaged by Miss Berengaria as a page, and that she would give me the details when she came to-morrow." "So like a woman," grumbled Durham, sitting down. "It would have been better had she told you that Beryl had induced Miss Plantagenet to take the boy as a page." Bernard stared. "But she is on my side," he faltered. "Of course she is, and for that reason she has taken the boy. I told her to be civil to Beryl, so that I might learn what his game was. It is better that we should keep all these people in sight. I have my eye on Beryl, who haunts my office. Jane Riordan is in my employment. Miss Randolph keeps watch on Mrs. Gilroy, and Miss Plantagenet will see that Jerry—or Judas as Conniston calls him—does no mischief. If I can get all the threads into my hands, Bernard, I'll soon be able to find a clue likely to lead me to the central mystery of this labyrinth. And there's no denying," added Durham, wrinkling his brows, "that the case is a perplexing one." "I understand about you and Miss Berengaria," said Bernard, nursing his chin, "you are my friends; but Lucy. I have always had my doubts about Lucy, and offended Conniston by saying so. He admires Lucy." [pg 174] "Miss Randolph is entirely to be trusted," said the lawyer, decisively; "she is your friend, and has broken off her engagement with Beryl. I think he showed too plainly that he wanted to ruin you and——" "Does he know that I am alive?" interrupted Gore, much perturbed. "No! But I think he is suspicious. He has some rascally scheme in his head or he would not have placed Judas in Miss Berengaria's establishment; luckily, the old lady will watch the boy. However, as I was saying, the engagement between Miss Randolph and Beryl is ended. She told me that she had given him back the ring. She is quite on our side." "Conniston will be glad," said Gore, smiling in a haggard sort of way; "he admires Lucy." "So do I. She's a charming girl, especially now that she has been allowed to exert her individuality, which was crushed by Sir Simon. I often wondered you did not fall in love with her, Bernard." "Oh, we are like brother and sister," said Bernard, quietly, then he sighed and started to his feet. "See here, Mark, I can't stand this sort of thing any longer." "What sort of thing?" "This inaction. Here I am mouldering in this old castle, a prey to apprehension, and letting other people do my work. Why shouldn't I come to life and give myself up?" "You can do that later, when we know more about the case than we do at present. Don't be rash, Bernard." Gore walked up and down the room. "The life will drive me mad," he said impatiently. "Thank Heaven Alice comes to see me to-morrow." "Why didn't she come before?" [pg 175] "She would have done so had she thought it safe. Alice is as true as steel. But with Beryl about the place—and he has called several times on Miss Berengaria—she thought it best to postpone her visit. But Conniston asked them both over to-morrow, and they are coming openly." "So they told me," rejoined Durham, coolly, "and I particularly impressed on them that they were not to bring that imp over. If he learns you are here—" The lawyer paused. "What will he do?" "Sell you to the highest bidder. I think we can get the better of Beryl there, though. We have the money and Beryl hasn't. Judas is in the employment of Beryl so long as it pays him. But if I promise him a good sum he'll hold his tongue whatever he learns. It's just as well, seeing how rash you were telling his grandmother where he is to be found." "I was foolish," admitted Gore, gloomily, "but I am so worried that I do foolish things. Do you think there is any chance of getting at the truth, Mark?" "Here's the tea," said Durham, rising at the sound of a shuffle at the door. "Let me have a cup, and then I'll tell you what I have discovered." "Anything important?" asked Gore, as the door opened. "Very important. I have a clue." It was Victoria, sharp and dark and vixenish as ever, who brought in the tray. But Durham had spoken in low tones, so he did not think she had heard. Besides, he was not so alarmed about her and Judas as he had been. Both were venal, and at any cost their silence would have to be purchased. It would be better for [pg 176] Bernard to lose half his estate than remain a fugitive from justice. Victoria darted a suspicious glance at Bernard, as from the air of mystery surrounding his stay at the castle she thought he was, as she put it, "wanted for something." But she was too clever, and, truth to say, too impotent to move without the co-operation of Jerry Moon. Besides, beyond a mere suspicion, she had nothing to go upon. Queerly enough, she had heard nothing of the murder, but then Mrs. Moon kept her so close that Victoria rarely had an opportunity of indulging her gossipping instincts, of which she had her full share. When she withdrew, Durham poured out two cups of tea and ate some toast. Gore waited patiently enough, but there was a restless air about him which showed that his patience was tried severely. At length Durham satisfied his appetite, took the edge off it as it were, and then returned to his seat. "Bernard," he asked, poking the fire, "you never told me that Sir Simon gave you a check for one thousand pounds?" Gore started up with an exclamation. "What do you mean? I never received such a large check as that in all my life." "But your grandfather gave you one in September, payable to bearer." "No. He certainly did not. You forget that we had quarrelled. From the moment I left the Hall some months ago I never received a penny from him. I lived, as you know, on what little money I inherited from my father. You gave fifty pounds to me yourself." "I went to the bank," said Durham, with an air of [pg 177] satisfaction, "and asked if such a check had been presented, and by whom?" "But how did you learn about this check?" "Oh! I found it amongst Sir Simon's private papers when he died. It had been honored and returned cancelled with the bank-book. I need not have asked if it had been presented, as it had, and had also been paid. But I wanted to examine the whole thing from the beginning. The teller—who knows you—informed me that you presented the check about the beginning of October, and that he paid you the money." "It is utterly false!" cried Gore, violently. "Keep your temper, old boy," said Durham, soothingly. "I know that as well as you do. The man who presented the check was dressed as an Imperial Yeoman. He told the teller he had enlisted, and the teller, thinking he was you, wished him good luck." "But, Mark," said Bernard, much perplexed, "this double of mine must be extraordinarily like me, for the teller knows me well." "There is a reason for the likeness!" The young man hesitated, wondering if it would be right to tell his friend that Mrs. Gilroy claimed to be the first wife of Walter Gore. On rapid reflection, he decided to say nothing about the matter at present, knowing Bernard's violent temper. He therefore confined himself to bare detail. "Mrs. Gilroy called at my office," he said slowly, "to complain that the one hundred a year left to her by Sir Simon was not enough." "Oh, confound Mrs. Gilroy," said Gore, impatiently. "I want to know about this check. This double who presented it must be the fellow who masqueraded in the kitchen." [pg 178] "And perhaps—who knows?—may have murdered Sir Simon." "It's not unlikely. Mrs. Gilroy said she admitted someone like me—or, as she thought, me—about ten, and——" "We'll come to that presently. I examined Jane Riordan, who was courted by this fellow apparently to get into the house. She described you exactly, but when I showed her your likeness she noticed that the mole on your chin was absent from the man who met her." Bernard involuntarily put up his hand to touch the mole, which was rather conspicuous. "The man had not this mark?" he asked. "No. So the mole you used to curse at school, Bernard, may be the means of saving your life. Also I got a letter from the girl in which this fellow makes an appointment. Here it is." Gore examined the letter thrown to him by Durham. "It's like my writing, but it isn't," he said, staring. "In Heaven's name, Mark, what does it all mean?" "Conspiracy on the part of——" "Julius Beryl," said Gore, breathlessly. "I am not prepared to say that; but certainly on the part of Mrs. Gilroy. While I was wondering who this double who copied even your handwriting and called himself by your name could be, Mrs. Gilroy called on the errand I told you of." "Well? Well?" "Don't be impatient, old chap. Well, she demanded more money, and she gave it as her reason for claiming it that your father—" Durham hesitated, wondering how to explain. [pg 179] "Go on, please," said Gore. "I am on thorns." "Do you want the truth?" "Yes, I do. The whole truth." "Will you promise to keep your temper?" "Yes. I know I have a bad one, but——" "Very good. Don't excuse yourself, Bernard. Well, Mrs. Gilroy claimed to be the wife of your father, and——" Gore started to his feet in a paroxysm of rage. "The wife of my father," he repeated. "Why, my mother is dead." "She said your mother was not the wife of——" "Oh!" Bernard sprang to his feet with blazing eyes. "Mark!" The lawyer rose. "Keep your temper. I didn't intend to tell you, knowing how you would receive the news." "Does this woman dare to say that I am a—a——" "Bernard, sit down," said Durham, and literally forced the impetuous boy back into his chair. "Behave like a civilized being. Mrs. Gilroy claims to be your father's first wife." "But if she lives, and if what she says is true, my mother—I—oh—I could kill this woman." "Gore," said the lawyer, seriously, "don't talk like this; remember what trouble you are now in owing to your former rash words." "Yes! Yes!" Bernard struck his forehead hard. "I know—I am a fool. I didn't mean—Mark!"—he started up despite the other's efforts to keep him down—"do you believe this?" "No," said Durham, promptly, "I don't. If Mrs. Gilroy was the real wife, she would not have kept silent [pg 180] so long. But I think she was deceived by a pretended marriage, and that Sir Simon, knowing this, helped her. I always wondered what was the bond between them. Now I know. Your father deceived the woman." "But why do you think she had anything to do with my father at all, Mark? The whole story may be trumped up." "I am quite sure that her tale is true, save as to the marriage," was Durham's reply. "I don't say that she might not have been deceived with a pretended marriage, and that she thought all was right. But she is not the real wife. Your mother, born Tolomeo is, and you are legitimately Sir Bernard Gore." "But your reason for thinking she speaks truly?" "I will give one; a sufficient one. Mrs. Gilroy declared that her son, Michael Gore—so she termed him—was the heir. She explained that there could be no deception, as he is the image of his father." "Oh!" Bernard started to his feet, seeing light. "And I am the image of my father, as was always said. This man must be——" "He is. I am sure of that. Michael, your half-brother, is the man resembling you who masqueraded—probably at the instance of his mother. I daresay he saw Sir Simon on that night, and was admitted by his mother. Probably he insisted that he was the heir, and Sir Simon lost his temper. Then he killed the old man, and——" "And Mrs. Gilroy put the crime on to my shoulders. I see it all." "I don't," said Durham, dryly. "I wish I did. For instance, I don't see why you were brought to Crimea Square in the nick of time for Mrs. Gilroy to accuse [pg 181] you. I don't understand about the Red Window either!" Gore walked up and down the room much agitated. "Mark," he cried at last, "I must come out and face this. I can't sit still here, knowing that all this villainy is about." "You must," insisted Mark, firmly. "Remember I am your lawyer and I will look after your interests, to say nothing of Conniston, who has remained in England for your sake. Wait, Bernard. In good time I will bring you forward." "But what will you do?" "I shall see Mrs. Gilroy and question her again. She declared that her son was in America when I accused him to her of having killed Sir Simon. Now Michael undoubtedly presented this check at the beginning of October. The murder took place at the end of the month, so Michael was in England. When I place this fact before Mrs. Gilroy, she may give in and confess." "Confess what?" "That you are innocent. Whether she will acknowledge that Michael, her son, committed the crime I can't say. I'll see her to-morrow, and I left word with Miss Randolph to-day that I would. The solution of the mystery lies with Mrs. Gilroy." "Where can her son be found?" "That we must learn. I may be able to force her to speak. When we find Michael you can reappear, and then the matter will be threshed out. Jane will soon be able to distinguish between these Corsican Brothers. Meantime, remain quietly here." "I must! I must! And yet——" "And yet you won't think I am doing my best for you." [pg 182] "I do—you know I do, Mark. But, after all, my position is terrible." "Don't make it worse by acting impulsively. I shall keep you advised of all that goes on. When does Conniston return?" "To-morrow, with Alice and Miss Berengaria. He went over to-day." "I saw him there. I expect he will stop the night. Well, while he is here with Miss Malleson and her aunt, I shall see Mrs. Gilroy." "But if she refuses to speak," murmured Gore, anxiously. "I have means to make her speak," said Durham, significantly. [pg 183] <hr class="hr2" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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