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<h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2> <h3>PLOTS AND COUNTERPLOTS</h3> On hearing from Tolomeo that Beryl was the guilty person, Durham was not so surprised as he might have been. He had always suspected that Julius was in some way connected with the crime, although he had not thought him personally guilty. But the story of Guiseppe, and the production of the handkerchief marked with Beryl's name seemed to put the matter beyond doubt. Durham remembered how Conniston had always said that when the lost handkerchief was found the assassin would be identified. Apparently his prophecy had come true. Here was the handkerchief, so fortunately picked up by Tolomeo, and it belonged to Julius. Also Julius, according to the Italian, had entered the house in Crimea Square about the time the murder was supposed to have been committed. "And there's no doubt that Beryl sent Jerry for Bernard, so that he might be brought to the spot for accusation," thought the lawyer when Tolomeo had gone. "The whole thing was a plant. I expect he arranged to go to the Curtain Theatre so as to have an alibi. But the theatre is near Crimea Square and it would be easy for Beryl to slip round between the acts. Humph! Evidently he did kill the old man—this handkerchief is proof enough, to say nothing of Tolomeo's evidence. What's to be done next?" The question was answered next day while Durham [pg 246] was still puzzling over the matter. Julius himself made his appearance, as meek-looking and mild as ever. The lawyer received him coldly and was on his guard. It was difficult to know why Beryl should pay a visit to an avowed enemy. But Julius soon explained the reason for his call. "I have something extremely private to say to you, Mr. Durham," he remarked in a confidential way, and after assuring himself ostentatiously that the door was closed. "I am not your legal adviser," said Durham, quickly. "You are Bernard's." "I was Bernard's, you mean." "Does that intimate that you have quarrelled with Bernard?" "You forget," said the solicitor, looking at him sharply. "Bernard is supposed to be dead." "I don't think you ever believed that," said Beryl, smiling. "That has nothing to do with you." "Oh yes, it has. See here, Durham, I wrote to Miss Malleson some time ago, stating that I had seen Bernard in London." "So I understand," said Durham, calmly. "Why did you not stop him?" "I was not quick enough. He walked on the other side of the street, and before I could cross over, which was difficult on account of the traffic, Bernard disappeared. Then I was not quite sure if he really was alive. Now I am." "Indeed?" said Durham, with a qualm, for he fancied Julius might have learned of Gore's whereabouts. [pg 247] "Yes! That young Moon wrote a letter to me saying that Bernard had come to the Bower, starving and in rags." It was on the tip of Durham's tongue to say that no doubt Jerry had been placed as a spy at the Bower, but he suppressed this remark. He firmly believed that Julius was a murderer, but as yet he saw some difficulty in bringing the crime home to him. He thought it would be best to give the man rope enough to hang himself. In other words, to listen quietly to what he had to say and act accordingly. Durham did not like having anything to do with such a scoundrel, but in the interests of Gore he had to smother all feelings save strictly professional ones. He therefore confined himself to silence, and to looking inquiringly at Beryl. "You don't seem surprised," said Julius, annoyed. "Because I can hardy believe your statement. Jerry may be making a mistake." "Oh no. I went down on the receipt of his letter, and insisted on seeing my cousin. Miss Plantagenet—as I knew she would,—denied that he was there; but afterwards, when I threatened to bring the police on to the scene, she gave way and let me see Bernard." "You are sure, then, that Bernard committed the crime?" "Wait one moment, Mr. Durham," said Beryl, wagging his finger in a most irritating way. "Let us understand one another clearly. You know, and you have known for some time, that Bernard was at the Bower?" "I am not bound to answer that question," said the lawyer, stiffly. "Bernard answered it for you. He told me you had been to see him, and that in spite of the change in his looks you knew who he was." [pg 248] Durham drew figures on his blotting-paper. He wondered if Julius really believed the man at the Bower to be Bernard Gore, or if he was trying to learn what he—Durham—thought himself. After some reflection the lawyer resolved to accept Michael as the man in question. Julius could not possibly know that the real Bernard was alive, and therefore it would be as wise to keep the knowledge from him until such time as light would come to show Durham how to move. "Yes," he said at length, throwing down his pen and taking up a position on the hearth-rug. "I was informed by Miss Plantagenet that Bernard had sought refuge with her, and I went down to see him." "Why did you not tell me?" asked Julius, sharply. Durham shrugged his shoulders. "By your own showing, seeing you wished to call in the police, you are not a friend to Bernard," he said. "Why should I have summoned you? To assist you to arrest him?" "I do not wish him to be arrested," said Julius, mildly. "On the contrary, I wish the poor fellow to die in peace." "To die—what do you mean?" "What I say, Mr. Durham. Payne tells me that Bernard has been so exhausted by his wandering when in hiding, that he cannot recover. His death is only a question of days. Mind you"—Julius wagged his finger again—"I really believe he killed Sir Simon, but as he is dying, why, I shall do nothing. I am not a vindictive man. Besides," added Julius, looking sideways at the lawyer, "Bernard and I are friends now. I am also friendly with Miss Malleson." "Indeed! And how did you bring that about?" "By acting straightforward and honorably, as I [pg 249] always do," said the meek Julius. "Miss Malleson acknowledged to me that Bernard was sadly changed by the hardships he had undergone. All the same she recognized him. Unfortunately, the poor fellow is too feeble to tell her of the perils he underwent, so she has not had an opportunity of talking much to him." It struck Durham from this speech that Julius was doubtful of the identity of Bernard with the man at the Bower. Else why should he make this remark about Alice not having had time to question the sick man, seeing that Alice alone could prove if he were Bernard or not? Durham was perplexed, and wondered what Julius was driving at, and how much he knew. A clue came with the next words. "And being friends with Bernard," went on Beryl, "he is sorry that we quarrelled. Feeling that he is not long for this world he wants to make his will in my favor." Durham nearly uttered an exclamation, for all of a sudden the whole rascally business became clear. Julius knew that the man at the Bower was Michael, and he was prepared to extract from him a forged will, in the hope that the real Bernard was dead. Having made use of Michael to bring about the accusation of Gore, he now used him to the very last to get the money. However, Durham kept his temper under, and pretended to believe that Julius was speaking in all good faith. He simply bowed his head. Every word that Julius said was weaving a rope for his own neck. "Are you surprised then at my calling?" said Julius, anxiously. "No," said Durham, returning to his seat. "If Gore wishes to make a will, I suppose I am the man to draw it up. I must go down and receive his instructions." [pg 250] "I have them with me," said Julius, bringing out a sealed letter. Durham, inwardly boiling at this rascality, but outwardly calm, opened the letter, while Julius kept a sharp look-out on him. He found a long letter, written in the same style as Bernard Gore usually wrote, setting forth directions for the will. These included an income of five hundred a year to Alice Malleson, and the extra allowance of four hundred to Mrs. Gilroy, making her income five hundred in all. The rest of the estate, real and personal, went to Julius Beryl. Durham smiled inwardly as he read this document. It was exactly the kind of will Julius wanted. Michael was simply his instrument, and Durham shrewdly suspected that from some knowledge of the forged check Beryl had obtained this extraordinary influence. "Well, it seems clear enough," said the lawyer, laying down the letter, "but I think Miss Malleson, seeing what she loses, should have more." "I think she has quite enough," said Julius, tartly. "Then Mrs. Gilroy," said Durham, pretending ignorance. "Why should Bernard leave her this extra money?" "I can't say. Bernard will probably tell you himself. Will you please draw out the will, Mr. Durham, and bring it down to the Bower for Gore to sign?" For the sake of appearances Durham went on making objections. All these were met by Julius with infernal cleverness, until the lawyer—on the face of it—had not a leg to stand on, as the saying goes. Finally he consented to draw up the will as instructed by the letter, and agreed to meet Julius next day at Liverpool Street Station to go down with him to the Hall. Julius drew [pg 251] a long breath of relief when the lawyer so agreed, and apparently had no idea that he was being tricked all the time. "I am much obliged to you, Mr. Durham," said he, holding out his hand, "and when I come into possession of the estate you will find me a good client." Durham, for the sake of keeping up the deception, had to shake hands, although he loathed himself for doing so. When the door closed on the arch plotter the solicitor went at once to wash his hands. "What a complete scoundrel!" said Durham to himself. "And how confoundedly clever. Of course, if the real Bernard were dead this will might stand. At all events, even if Miss Malleson could prove that Michael is not her lover, the new will might lead to litigation. However, as Bernard is alive and well we can produce him at the eleventh hour to frighten Beryl. I am afraid that young man will be hanged after all, though I am unwilling, for the sake of the family, that things should come to that pass." However, Durham, true to his appointment, arrived at the station the next day and had the will in his pocket. Julius read it in the train going down and expressed his approval of it. It was now Durham's cue to behave politely to Julius, and as though he truly believed in him and in the false Bernard Gore. But on the previous night he had written a long letter to Miss Berengaria, which was to be read to Alice. In it Durham told the whole of Beryl's scheme to get possession of the property. But for obvious reasons he said nothing of Tolomeo's story or Beryl's real guilt. He thought, very truly, that even Miss Berengaria's nerves could not stand being brought into such close relationship [pg 252] with a proven murderer, let alone that Alice might reveal the truth out of sheer disgust. But the letter prepared the minds of both ladies for the execution of the will. On arriving at the Bower the two men were met by Jerry, looking more innocent and child-like than ever. "Please, missus says will you go into the drawing-room?" said the infant, casting down his eyes. Durham looked hard at the young scoundrel who was such a worthy instrument of Beryl's. He would have liked to examine him then and there touching his luring of Bernard to Crimea Square, but the present moment was not propitious, so he passed on. Julius, however, in a most benevolent way spoke to the boy—"I hope you are giving your good mistress satisfaction?" "Oh yes, sir. But she was angry at me writing and telling you about the poor sick gentleman." "By the way, Jerry, how did you find out about him?" asked Durham. "I saw him arrive," said Jerry, ingenuously. "I was in the garden when he came. I wouldn't have written, sir, if I had known that my dear missus wanted it kept dark. But Mr. Beryl was so anxious about Sir Bernard that I thought he would be glad to know he was alive." "How did you know this gentleman was Sir Bernard?" "I heard James the coachman describe him, and then I knew." "All the same, Jerry," said Julius, benevolently, "if Miss Berengaria wished the fact of Sir Bernard's being here kept quiet, you should not have disclosed it even to me." [pg 253] "But I wished to set your mind at rest," murmured Jerry, looking up with dove-like eyes. "I owe you so much, sir." Julius smiled and patting his head, walked on to the drawing-room. It was a very pretty comedy, but Durham was not to be taken in. He knew well enough that the boy was a mere tool and a dangerous one. As a matter of fact, he did not know until later how dangerous the lad really could be. Miss Berengaria and Alice were in the drawing-room, and both smiled a welcome when the two men entered. Alice darted a look of terror and repulsion at Beryl, but as he was shaking hands with the old lady he did not see it, else he might have suspected. Durham guessed this and touched her hand. She nodded, and when Julius shook hands with her she welcomed him again with a smile, although her very flesh crept when she touched him. As for Miss Berengaria, that indomitable old lady never turned a hair. She smiled and chatted, and was bland to Julius. He might have been her dearest friend from the amount of attention she bestowed on him. "So poor Bernard is going to make his will," she said briskly. "I hope he has left Alice something." "Five hundred a year, and the like amount to Mrs. Gilroy." "Indeed, Mr. Durham; and why to Mrs. Gilroy?" "Bernard looks upon her as a second mother," said Julius, hastily; "at least he told me so. Of course, I know nothing about her. I hope, however, she will reappear to claim her legacy." "There may be no chance for anyone to claim legacies for a long time," said Miss Berengaria, tartly. "I hope Bernard will not die." [pg 254] "I hope so also," said Alice, fervently; and she really meant it, even though she was thinking of the young scamp upstairs. Julius shook his head. "Dr. Payne assures me he cannot live. I am glad he has decided to make this will." "Yes, you would be," said Miss Berengaria ironically, and she might have been rash enough to say more, but that Durham intervened. "I hope none of the servants know that Bernard is here?" "They all know by this time," said Miss Berengaria, calmly. "We kept the matter from them as long as possible; and with Alice I waited on Bernard myself. But Jerry told the servants as well as Mr. Beryl." "Will the knowledge go any further?" said the lawyer, keeping up the comedy. "I don't want Bernard arrested." "My servants will not speak under pain of dismissal, if that is what you mean," said Miss Plantagenet, sharply. "As to Jerry——" "He is one of your servants also," said Beryl, softly; "but I have some influence over Jerry, and I will see that he holds his tongue." "You can take him away altogether," snapped Miss Berengaria. "I don't approve of having boys with long tongues in my house. Jerry had no right to be hanging round the garden when Bernard arrived, much less to write and tell you that he was here." "He thought I was anxious." "I daresay you are," said the old dame, "to see Bernard hanged." "Indeed, no," replied Julius, earnestly. "I wish him to die in peace." [pg 255] "Having got all you can out of him," muttered Miss Berengaria, rubbing her nose. "Well," she added sharply, "are we to go upstairs and witness this will?" "Yes! Mr. Beryl can't witness as he is the residuary legatee. Nor can Miss Alice, since she is mentioned in the will. But you, Miss Plantagenet, and——" "And yourself?" "No. I am the executor." "Then Maria can witness the will. She is my own maid and can be depended upon. Are you coming, Julius?" "Thank you, no," said Beryl, with a gentle smile. "I think as I have such a large interest in the will that it is better I should remain away. I shall stay here. And you, Miss Malleson?" "I shall stop also," said Alice in reply to a look from Durham. "You go up with Mr. Durham, aunt." "Come along then," said Miss Berengaria, hastening out of the room; "the sooner this is over the better. Ugh! I hate wills. They put me in mind of the family vault, and I can't last long now." The lawyer followed, and Miss Berengaria led him up a narrow stair which conducted to the turret-room in which the false Bernard was lying. At the foot of this stair she stopped. "Durham," she said abruptly, "do you mean to let this man execute this false will?" "Yes. I wish Julius Beryl to commit himself beyond recall." "What will you do then?" "I can't say. One thing at a time. When the will is executed we will watch Beryl's attitude. Something will happen," added Durham, thinking of the incriminating handkerchief in his possession. [pg 256] "Yes," said Miss Berengaria, climbing the stairs with a briskness surprising in a woman of her years, "something will happen. This poor foresworn wretch upstairs will die." "But I thought you said——" "I know I did. I could help him back to life with careful nursing, and I wish to do so, since I think there is good in the rascal. But Beryl, having had the will made, will—kill him. Yes," added she, nodding, "there will be a repetition of the crime. I believe Beryl himself killed Simon—the old—no, he is dead. Let us be just." "What makes you think Julius Beryl killed Sir Simon?" "Nothing," snapped Miss Berengaria; "he looks like a murderer." Durham smiled to himself as he went up the stairs and wondered at her acuteness in thus hitting the nail on the head. When the will was executed Julius certainly might attempt to get rid of the instrument he had used, as he had rid himself of Sir Simon, but in the house of Miss Berengaria this would be a more difficult matter. "And if he tries anything of that sort on," thought Durham, "I'll have him arrested at once for the first murder. Meantime, let us see how far he will proceed with the plot." The young man lying in bed was very weak. His face was thin and pale and his scrubby beard was now longer. He looked haggard and anxious, and started up when the door opened. "It is only Mr. Durham and I, Bernard," said Miss Berengaria in a soft voice. "We have come about the will." Michael raised himself on his elbow. "Have you got it?" he asked. [pg 257] "Yes," said Durham, producing the document. "Miss Plantagenet, will you please call up your maid to witness it?" While the old lady rang the bell and Michael read the will, the lawyer looked closely at the invalid. He was wonderfully like Bernard, and but that Durham knew that the real Gore was in another place he might have been deceived. Michael was clever enough to feign illness as an excuse for talking little, as he evidently dreaded to say much lest Alice or Durham should question his identity. The whole deception was cleverly carried out. Michael even attempted to account for any difference in his signature. "I feel so weak I can't write as firmly as I used to," he said, when the maid entered the room. "So you must not be surprised if my signature is unlike my usual one." "If it is as good as the writing in your letter, I shan't complain," said Durham, wheeling a small table near to the bed. Michael looked at him sharply, and seemed relieved by this remark. He evidently thought that all was well and safe, and heard Durham read the will with closed eyes. Then, raising himself on his elbow, he signed his name with apparent difficulty. It was wonderfully like the signature of Bernard. Miss Plantagenet and Maria appended their signatures as witnesses. Then Durham put the will into an envelope and prepared to go down. Michael stopped him. "Mark," he said, using the name Bernard usually called the lawyer by, "don't you think I am looking better?" "I think you are very ill," said Durham, gently. "But you don't think I'll die?" [pg 258] "I hope not. With nursing you may get better." Michael's face assumed an expression of terror. "I won't die," he moaned, sinking back. "I want to get well and enjoy myself." "Hush! hush!" said Miss Berengaria, folding the clothes round him, "no more of this unhealthy talk. You will get well." With Durham they left the room while Maria remained to attend on the patient. "Well," said Durham, in a low voice, "you see he expects to get well, now that he has signed the will. I daresay he will disappear. The body of Bernard will be found, and Michael will share the estate with Beryl." "I don't think so," said Miss Plantagenet, grimly. "Beryl will now murder this poor reptile, and take all the money to himself." "I fear his expectations will be disappointed," said the lawyer, dryly. [pg 259] <hr class="hr2" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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