No, sir. People tells me I bear my age wonderful well. But wont you come into the parlour, sir?
Declining, I told him to get me something to drink, and when he brought it questioned him as to the latest news in the village. Denman was an inveterate gossip, and in his constant drives in the rickety and antiquated vehicle known as the fly, to villages and towns in the vicinity, had a knack of picking up all the news and scandal, which he retailed at night for the delectation of customers at the Sussex Arms.
I dunno as anything very startling has happened lately in Warnham. The jumble sale came off at the schools last Tuesday fortnight, and theres a cricket match up at the Lodge next Saturday. Some gentlemen are coming down from London to play.
Anything else?
Denman removed his hat and scratched his head.
Oh, yes, he said suddenly. You knows Mr Macandrew whats steward for Mr Thornbury? Well, last Monday week an old gentleman called at his house up street and asked to see him. His wife asked him into the parlour, and Mr Macandrew went in. Are you Mr Macandrew? says the old gent. I am, says Mr Macandrew. Well, I shouldnt ave known you, says the old man. And it turned out afterwards that this old man was actually Mr Macandrews father, whos lived ever so many years in America, and hasnt seen Mr Macandrew since he wor a boy. I did laugh when I heard it.
Extraordinary. Have you had any visitors down from London? I inquired, for sometimes people took the houses of the better-class villagers, furnished for the season.
We had a lively young gent staying here in the inn for four days last week. He was a friend of somebody up at the Hall, I think, for he was there a good deal. He came from London. I wonder whether youd know him.
What was his name?
Funny name, Denman said, grinning. Ogle, Mr Ogle.
Ogle! I gasped. What was his Christian name?
Dudley, I fancy it was.
Dudley Ogle, I repeated, remembering that he had been absent from Shepperton for four days, and had told me he had been in Ipswich visiting some friends. And he has been here?
Yes, sir. We made him as comfortable as we could, and I think he enjoyed hisself.
But what did he do why was he down here? I inquired eagerly.
Do you know him, sir? Jolly gentleman, isnt he? Up to all manners o tricks, and always chaffing the girls.
Yes, I knew him, Denman, I answered gravely. Tell me, as far as you know, his object in coming to Warnham. Im very interested in his doings.
As far as I know, sir, he came to see somebody up at the Hall. I drove him about a good deal, over to Ockley, to Cowfold, and out to Handcross; and I took him into Horsham every day.
Do you know who was his friend at the Hall?
No, I dont, sir. He never spoke about it; but I did have my suspicions, he answered, smiling.
Oh! what were they? I asked.
I fancy he came to see Lucy Bryden, the housekeepers daughter. Shes a good-looking girl, you know, and the old man winked knowingly.
What made you think that, eh?
Well, from something I was told, he replied mysteriously. He was seen walking with a young lady across the park one night, and I eard as ow it was Mrs Brydens daughter. But next day I ad a surprise. A young lady called here for him, and she was dressed exactly as the young woman who had been in the park with him was. But it wasnt Mrs Brydens daughter.
Then who was it?
I heard him call her Ella. She came from London.
Ella? I gasped. What the deuce do you mean, Denman? What sort of a girl was she? A lady?
Yes, sir, quite a lady. She was dressed in brown, and one thing I noticed was that she had on a splendid diamond bracelet. It was a beauty.
A diamond bracelet! I echoed. There was no doubt that Ella had actually been to Warnham without my knowledge, for the bracelet that the old ostler, in reply to my eager questions, described accurately, was the one I had given her.
What time in the day did she call? Where did they go? I demanded, in surprise.
She came about mid-day, and they both went for a walk towards Broadbridge Heath. They were gone, I should reckon, about three hours, and when they returned, it was evident from her eyes that shed been crying.
Crying! Had Ogle been talking to her angrily, do you think?
No. I dont believe so. They remained here and had some tea together in the parlour, and then I drove em to Horsham, and they caught the 6:25 to London.
I was silent. There was some remarkable, unfathomable mystery in this.
Now, Denman, I said at last, I know youve got a sharp pair of ears when youre perched up on that box of yours. Did you overhear their conversation while driving them to Horsham?
Again the old man removed his battered hat and calmly scratched his head.
Well, sir, to tell you the truth, I did ear a few words, he answered. I eard the young lady say as ow she wor powerless. He seemed to be a-begging of her to do something which horrified her. I eard her ask him in a whisper whether he thought they would be discovered, and he laughed at her fear, and said, If you dont do it, you know the consequences will be fatal.
Do you think they went up to the Hall when they went out walking?
I dont know, sir. They could, of course, have got into the park that way. But you dont look very well, sir. I hope what Ive told you isnt isnt very unpleasant, the old ostler added, with a look of apprehension.
No. Get me some brandy, Denman, I gasped.
While he was absent I rose and walked unsteadily to the window that overlooked a comfortable-looking corner residence surrounded by a belt of firs, a wide road, and a beautiful stretch of valley and blue downs beyond. The landscape was peaceful and picturesque, and I sought solace in gazing upon it. But this latest revelation had unnerved me. Dudley and Ella had met in that quiet, rural place for some purpose which I could not conceive. Their meeting had evidently been pre-arranged, and their object, from the words the old man had overheard, was apparently of a secret and sinister character.
The strange, inquiring look I had detected in Ellas face whenever she had glanced surreptitiously at Dudley on the previous night was, I now felt assured, an index of guilty conscience; and Mrs Laings dread that Ella should know the truth of my friends tragic end appeared to prove, in a certain degree, the existence of some secret knowledge held by all three.
Yet I could not bring myself to believe that my well-beloved had wilfully deceived me. From what Denman had said, it appeared as if Ogle had held her under some mysterious thrall, and was trying to compel her to act against her better judgment. Her pure, womanly conscience had, perhaps, revolted against his suggestion, and she had shed the tears the old ostler had noticed; yet he had persisted and held over her a threat that had cowed her, and, perhaps, for aught I knew, compelled her to submit.
My thought that the man who was my friend should have thus treated the woman I adored filled me with fiercest anger and hatred. With bitterness I told myself that the man in whom I placed implicit confidence, and with whom I had allowed Ella to spend many idle hours punting or sculling while I was absent at my duties in London, was actually my enemy.
With sudden resolve I determined to travel back to Staines and, by possession of the knowledge of her mysterious visit to that village, worm from her its object. At that moment Denman entered, and I drank the brandy at one gulp, afterwards ordering the fly and driving back to Horsham station, whence I returned to London.
With sudden resolve I determined to travel back to Staines and, by possession of the knowledge of her mysterious visit to that village, worm from her its object. At that moment Denman entered, and I drank the brandy at one gulp, afterwards ordering the fly and driving back to Horsham station, whence I returned to London.
At my flat in Rossetti Mansions, Chelsea, I found a telegram from the Staines police summoning me to the inquest to be held next morning at eleven oclock, and also one from Ella asking me to return. The latter I felt inclined to disregard; the former I could not. Her words and actions were, indeed, beyond comprehension, but in the light of this knowledge I had by mere chance acquired, it seemed plain that her declaration of her unworthiness of my love was something more than the natural outcome of highly-strung nerves and a romantic disposition. Women of certain temperaments are prone to self-accusation, and I had brought myself to believe her words to be mere hysterical utterances; but now, alas! I saw there was some deep motive underlying them. I had been tricked. I had, it seemed, been unduly jealous of Beck, and unsuspecting of my real enemy, the man whose lips were closed in death.
I now regretted his end, not as a friend regrets, but merely because no effort would be availing to compel his lying tongue to speak the truth. Yet, if he were my rival for Ellas hand, might he not have lied when questioned regarding the events of that fateful afternoon when the secret defensive alliance had been so mysteriously exchanged for a dummy? Jealousy knows neither limit nor remorse.
Next morning, after spending the greater part of the night sitting alone smoking and endeavouring to penetrate the ever-increasing veil of mystery that had apparently enveloped her, I travelled down to Staines, arriving there just in time to take a cab to the Town Hall, where the inquest was to be held. The town was agog, for a crowd of those unable to enter because the room was already filled to overflowing, stood in the open space outside, eagerly discussing the tragic affair in all its various aspects, and hazarding the wildest and most impossible theories. Entering the hall, I elbowed my way forward, and as I did so I heard my name shouted loudly by a police constable. I was required as a witness, and succeeded in struggling through to the baize-covered table whereat the grave-faced Coroner sat.
He stretched forth his hand to give me the copy of Holy Writ whereon to take the oath, when suddenly my eyes fell upon a watch and a collection of miscellaneous articles lying upon the table, the contents of the dead mans pockets.
One small object alone riveted my attention. Heedless of the Coroners words I snatched it up and examined it closely.
Next second I stood breathless and aghast, dumbfounded by an amazing discovery that staggered belief.
Chapter Seven
Ellas Suspicions
The formula of the oath fell upon my ears in a dull monotone, as mechanically I raised the Bible to my lips, afterwards replying to the Coroners formal questions regarding my name, address and occupation. The discovery I had made filled me with fierce, bitter hatred against my dead companion, and, dazed by the startling suddenness of the revelation, I stood like a man in a dream.
Dr Diplock, the Coroner, noticed it, and his sharp injunction to answer his question brought me back to a knowledge of my surroundings. I was standing in full view of an assembly of some three hundred persons, so filled by curiosity, and eager to hear my story, that the silence was complete.
I beg your pardon, but I did not hear the question, I said, bracing myself with effort.
The deceased was your friend, I believe?
Yes, I answered. He shared a furnished cottage with me at Shepperton. I have known him for some time.
Were you with him at the day of his death?
I left him at Shepperton in the morning, when I went to town, and he called upon me at the Foreign Office about one oclock. We lunched together, and then, returning to Downing Street, parted. We met again at Shepperton later, and came here, to Staines, in response to an invitation to dinner at The Nook. I
A womans low, despairing cry broke the silence, and as I turned to the assembly I saw, straight before me, Ella, rigid, almost statuesque. Her terror-stricken gaze met mine; her eyes seemed riveted upon me.
Kindly proceed with your evidence, exclaimed the Coroner, impatiently.
We dined at The Nook, I went on, turning again to face him. Then we went for a row, and on our return Mr Ogle left us to walk back to Shepperton.
Alone?
Yes.
Why did you not accompany him?
Because I had, during the evening, received a telegram summoning me away.
Who was the message from?
The Earl of Warnham, I replied. Then obeying his request to continue, I explained how, on leaving The Nook about an hour later to catch my last train, I had stumbled upon the body of my friend.
Then, when I had concluded, the Coroner commenced his cross-examination. Many of his questions were purely formal in character, but presently, when he began to take me through the events which occurred at the Foreign Office, I experienced a very uncomfortable feeling, fearing lest I should divulge the suspicions that had during the last half-hour been aroused within me. It was, I recognised, absolutely necessary that I should keep my discovery a strict secret, for upon my ability to do so everything depended.
Was there any reason why he should call for you at the Foreign Office and ask you to lunch with him? Was he in the habit of doing this? inquired the Coroner.
No; there seemed no reason, beyond the fact that he was compelled to come to town, and merely wanted to pass an idle hour away, I said.
Why did he go to London?
I have no idea what business took him there.
He never told you that he had any enemy, I suppose? the official asked, with an air of mystery.
Never. He was, on the contrary, most popular.
And no incident other than what you have related occurred at the Foreign Office? You are quite certain of this?
For a moment I hesitated, half inclined to relate the whole story of the mysterious theft of the secret convention; but risking perjury rather than an exposure of facts that I saw must remain hidden, I answered as calmly as I could,
No other incident occurred.
Have you any reason to suspect that he was a victim of foul play? the Coroner continued, looking at me rather suspiciously, I thought.
At that moment I glanced at Ella, and was astounded to see how intensely excited she appeared, with her white face upturned, her mouth half open, her eyes staring, eagerly drinking in every word that fell from my lips. Her whole attitude was of one who dreaded that some terrible truth might be brought to light.
I have no reason to suspect he was murdered, I answered in a low tone, and as I surreptitiously watched the face of the woman I loved I saw an instant transformation. Her breast heaved with a heavy sigh of relief as across her countenance there passed a look of satisfaction she was unable to disguise. She was in deadly fear of something, the nature of which I could not conjecture.
You have no suspicion whatever that the deceased had an enemy? asked the foreman of the jury, who had the appearance of a local butcher.
None whatever, I answered.
I frequently saw Mr Ogle on the river of an afternoon with Miss Laing, the man observed. Was there, as far as you are aware, any affection between them?