Jonah's Luck. Fergus Hume
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pockets for the remains of his poor fortune.
The ten shillings had vanished. Yet Herries knew that he had counted them on the previous evening, immediately before he retired to bed, and he had placed them in the right-hand pocket of his trousers,--eight shillings and four sixpences. Alarmed at the loss, which meant everything to him, he felt in every pocket, looked under his pillow, examined the floor, but could find no trace of the money.
"How on earth can I get to Tarhaven?" he asked himself, and then it came upon him with a shock, that he was not a free man.
Shortly a soft tap at the door roused him. He told the person who knocked to enter, and a key turned in the lock. Elspeth, her face white and her eyes red, entered, carrying a tray laden with coarse food. This she set down, then impulsively she rushed forward and caught his hand.
"You never did it," she panted, eagerly, and staring at him with burning eyes. "You never, never did it."
"Of course not. I can prove my innocence. No," he made a gesture of despair, as the full terror of his situation rushed upon him, "I say that to comfort myself. I am in a perilous position."
"That a kind man such as you are, should do such a thing," the girl went on, almost to herself, "it's ridiculous. You helped me with that bucket; you would not murder a poor soul in his sleep."
"That I did not. I swear by all that I hold sacred," said Herries, grateful for this true sympathy. "But you see how I am placed; you know the strong evidence against me."
Elspeth nodded.
"Mr. and Mrs. Narby are talking of it," she whispered, with a significant glance at the door, behind which no doubt some one was watching. "The police will be here soon. They have sent to Tarhaven, for the Inspector and the Doctor."
"What is the time now?"
"It is close upon three o'clock," said Elspeth. "Armour, who is the village constable, is on his rounds at some other village, and although they have sent out to get him, he cannot be found. But Pope has gone by train to Tarhaven to bring the Inspector. I expect he'll return every minute. And I cannot stop long; they will miss me. But I want to be your friend," she added again catching his hand. "Tell me, is there anyone I can send for, who will help you?"
"There is my friend, Dr. James Browne of Tarhaven. I have not seen him for a couple of years, but I daresay he'll remember me. Write and ask him to come, or perhaps you could procure me writing material."
"No. They," she alluded to the Narby's, "will allow you nothing."
"Then send the letter yourself to Browne, you kind little soul. He may say a good word for me."
"Is there no one else?"
Herries' head drooped.
"There is one I should not like to hear of my disgrace," he said, faintly.
"Ah!" the girl's dark eyes lighted up with a jealous flame, "and her name, Mr. Herries?"
The young man looked surprised.
"How can you guess that I am thinking of a woman?"
"I guess, because--because--oh, you would not understand. What is her name? I'll see her if you like," her face grew red as she spoke, and had Herries been more experienced in the other sex, he might have seen that her feelings towards him, for his simple act of kindness, were such as to make her hate anyone doing things for him, save herself.
However, he saw nothing of this, and gave the information with all frankness.
"Maud Tedder, she is a cousin of mine, the daughter of Sir Simon Tedder, a famous manufacturer you may have heard of."
Elspeth nodded.
"I've seen his name on jam tins and such like," she said rapidly. "He has a great house at Tarhaven."
"I know. I have been there once, a couple of years ago. But he quarrelled with me, and turned me out."
"Because of Miss--Miss?" she could not say the name.
"Yes! I wanted to marry my cousin. Sir Simon would not let me."
"And she--she----?"
"She obeyed her father, as a daughter should," said Herries bitterly. "But I do not know why I talk of these very private affairs to you. But if you would----"
"Hush!" Elspeth placed a silencing finger on her lips, "the police."
Hardly had she left the room, when the Inspector--as he evidently was from his smart uniform--entered in an abrupt manner. He was a kindly, red-faced man, with a military moustache, and an official manner, which made him assume a severity which Herries guessed was foreign to his nature. Two policemen were visible in the narrow passage as the Inspector entered the room, after a word or two with the girl, to learn why she had been with the prisoner.
"Your name?" demanded the officer sharply, and taking in Herries' looks with a shrewd and observant eye.
"Angus Herries. I am innocent," said the accused man hurriedly, then, anxious to exculpate himself, he talked on vehemently, and thereby did the worst thing possible. "I do not know the dead man's name, or the man himself. I have never seen him. I was fast asleep all the time. I found the razor, and----"
"Stop," said the Inspector peremptorily, "anything you say now will be used in evidence against you. Hold your tongue, until I am ready to examine you, and follow me," and with that he turned his back to march out of the room.
Herries saw that it would be as well to be circumspect, and walked silently after the representative of the law. The official turned to the right and opened the door of the death room at which Narby was standing. This was the first time the Inspector had been inside, and he wanted Herries to be present to see what effect the sight of his supposed victim would have on his nerves. The young man was glad to enter. He wished to face the worst at once.
The room was similar to the other, bare, cold-looking, and sparingly furnished with the flotsam and jetsam of auction rooms. Everything seemed to be disordered, but the bedclothes were smoothed out, and thereon lay a stiff figure, covered with a sheet. The police officer turned down the sheet and beckoned Herries to approach. The very next moment the young man staggered back amazed.
"Great Heavens!" he gasped, thunderstruck, "it is Sir Simon Tedder!"
CHAPTER III
CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE
"Sir Simon Tedder!" Inspector Trent--as the red-faced official was called--relaxed his stiffness, so far as to display astonishment. "The millionaire, who made his fortune out of jam and pickles; who has a house at Tarhaven?"
"Yes!" faltered Herries weakly, and sinking into a chair near the door, he covered his shameful face. Trent, seeing tears trickling between the nerveless fingers, felt convinced, with the assurance of the shortsighted, that his experiment had proved successful. The guilty man's self-control had given way at the sight of his victim. So thought a jack-in-office, who was unable to see farther than his nose by reason of natural and official limitations. But the truth was--and a medical man would have surmised it--that Herries, with his long tramp, his weakened frame, his despairing outlook, and the surprising sight of his relative lying dead by violence, suddenly became as unstrung as an hysterical woman. The tears relieved him, and had they not broken forth, he would have become insane at the mere thought of this terrible disaster falling upon him, after years and years of cruel misfortune. He felt, and very naturally, like a tormented rat in a trap, and could see no means of escape.
"Sir Simon Tedder," repeated Trent, with a gratified glance at the still white face of the dead, "the millionaire," he rolled the agreeable word on his tongue. "This will be an important affair!" and throwing out his chest, he swelled with triumph at the thought of the fame and praise which so notorious a case would bring him. "Why did you kill him, young man?"
Herries, ashamed of the momentary weakness, dropped his hands