Читать книгу Ainslee's, Vol. 15, No. 6, July 1905 - Various - Страница 15

Lord Farquhart seemed to recover himself but slowly from the shock of Lady Barbara’s denunciation, from the surprise of her whispered words. At last he raised his eyes to Lord Grimsby, who was still looking at him curiously.

“I fear that I should also ask your pardon, my Lord Grimsby, for this confusion.” Lord Farquhart’s words came slowly. “My cousin, the Lady Barbara, must be strangely overwrought. With your permission, I will follow her and attend to her needs.”

He turned and for the first time looked definitely at the little knot of men that surrounded him. The women, young and old, had been withdrawn from his environment by their escorts. His eyes traveled slowly from one to another of the familiar faces.

“Surely, my Lord Grimsby,” clamored Ashley, “you will not let the fellow escape!”

“Surely my Lord Grimsby is going to place no reliance on a tale like this told by a whimsical girl!” retorted Lord Farquhart before Lord Grimsby’s slow words had fallen on his ears.

“We will most assuredly take all measures for safeholding my Lord Farquhart.”

“But, Lord Grimsby,” cried Farquhart, realizing for the first time that the situation might have a serious side, “you surely do not believe this tale!”

“I would like to see some reason for doubting the lady’s word,” answered the older man. “And you forget that her story is corroborated by Mr. Ashley. Neither must you overlook the fact that for some time the authorities have been convinced that this highwayman was no common rogue, that he is undoubtedly some one closely connected with our London life, if – if indeed – ” But this was no place for Lord Grimsby to assert his own opinion that the highwayman was indeed the devil incarnate.

“Why, the whole thing is the merest fabrication,” cried Lord Farquhart, impatiently. “It is all without reason, without sense, without possible excuse. The Lady Barbara’s imagination has been played upon in some way, for some reason that I cannot understand. You heard her declare that she’d seen me in the fellow’s disguise. That is an absolute impossibility. I’ve never seen the rogue, much less impersonated him.”

“You shall, of course, have the benefit of any doubt, Lord Farquhart.” Lord Grimsby’s voice had assumed its judicial tones and fell with sinister coldness on every ear. “But, innocent or guilty, you must admit that the safety of his majesty’s realm demands that the truth be proved.”

“Ay, it shall be proved, too,” cried Jack Grimsby, who had been so warmly befriended in time of direct need by the Black Highwayman. “And you shall have the benefit of every doubt there may be, Percy. Rest assured of that. And in the event that there is no doubt, if it is proved that you are our Black Devil, you’ll still go free. Your case will be in my father’s hands, and I here repeat my oath that if the Black Devil goes to the gallows, I go on the road, following as close as may be in his footsteps.”

Farquhart shuddered out from under the protecting hand young Grimsby had laid on his shoulder.

“You speak as though you half believed the tale,” he cried. His eyes traveled once again around the little circle. Then his face grew stern. “Let Mr. Ashley repeat his tale,” he said, slowly. “Let him tell the Lady Barbara’s story and his own corroboration as circumstantially as may be.”

“Yes, let Harry Ashley tell his story,” echoed Jack Grimsby, “and when he has finished let him say where and when he will measure swords with me, for if he lies he lies like a blackguard, and if he spoke the truth he speaks it like a liar.”

Ashley’s sword was half out of its sheath, but it was arrested by Lord Grimsby’s voice.

“I will consent that Mr. Ashley should tell his story here and now,” he said. “It’s unusual and irregular, but the circumstances are unusual and irregular. I request your appreciation of this courtesy, my Lord Farquhart, and as for you, my son, a gentleman’s house may serve strange purposes, but it’s no place for a tavern brawler. So take heed of your words and manners.”

Lord Farquhart had merely bowed his head in answer to Lord Grimsby’s words; Jack still stood near him, his hand on his shoulder, but Ashley looked in vain for a pair of friendly eyes to which he might direct his tale. And yet he knew that everyone was waiting avidly for his words.

“The story is short and proves itself,” he began. “A week ago the Lady Barbara Gordon was traveling toward London attended only by her father’s servants. My Lord Farquhart, with a party of his friends, among whom I was included at that time, awaited her at Marmaduke Bass’ tavern, The Jolly Grig. A short time before the Lady Barbara was to arrive, Lord Farquhart withdrew to his room, presumably to sleep, until – ”

“Ay, and sleep he did,” interrupted young Treadway, who spoke for the first time. “We both slept in my room on the ground floor of the tavern.”

“You slept, no doubt, Mr. Treadway,” answered Lord Grimsby. “But, if so, how can you vouch for the fact that Lord Farquhart slept?”

“I can vouch for it – I can vouch for it because I know he slept,” spluttered Treadway.

“I fear me much that your reasoning will not help to save your friend,” answered the councillor, a little scornfully. “Let me beg that Mr. Ashley be not again interrupted to so little purpose.”

“While, according to his own account, Mr. Treadway slept,” continued Ashley, “while he supposed Lord Farquhart was also sleeping, I heard Lord Farquhart singing in his room overhead. At the time I paid little heed to it. In fact, I did not think of it again that night, although, if I remember rightly, I commented on Lord Farquhart’s voice to Mr. Cecil Lindley, who sat with me in the tavern. It was full fifteen minutes after that when the Lady Barbara drove into the inn, crying that she had been waylaid by the Black Highwayman. Her rings had been stolen, her rings and a jeweled gauntlet and a rose. She was strangely confused and would not permit us to ride in pursuit of the villain, averring that she had promised him immunity in exchange for her own life.”

“A pretty tale,” Jack Grimsby again interrupted, in spite of his father’s commands. “It’s a lie on its own face. ’Tis well known that the Black Devil has never taken a life, has never even threatened bodily injury.”

“Be that as it may” – Ashley’s level voice ignored the tone of the interruption, although his nervous fingers were on his sword – “when the Lady Barbara’s companion, Mistress Benton, tried to say that the Lady Barbara had recognized her assailant, that the Lady Barbara had willingly descended from the coach with the highwayman, the Lady Barbara silenced her peremptorily and ordered that we hurry with all speed to London. ’Twas the following morning, my Lord Grimsby, that the truth was revealed to me, for Lord Farquhart’s own servant returned to the Lady Barbara, in my presence, the jewels that had been stolen the night before, the jewels and the rose the highwayman had taken from her.”

“You forget the jeweled gauntlet, Mr. Ashley.” Again it was Jack Grimsby’s sneering voice that interrupted Ashley’s tale. “Did my Lord Farquhart keep his lady’s glove when he returned the other baubles?”

Ashley’s face flushed, but he looked steadily at Lord Grimsby; he directed the conclusion of his story to Lord Grimsby’s ears.

“It was then that the Lady Barbara confessed, much against her will, I will admit, that it was indeed her cousin and her fiancé who had waylaid her, merely to confess to her his identity with this bandit whose life is, assuredly, forfeit to the crown.”

Lord Farquhart had listened in tense silence. Now he started forward, his hand on his sword, but his arms were caught by two of Lord Grimsby’s men. “You will admit, my Lord Farquhart, that the matter demands explanation,” said the councillor, dryly. “How came you by the jewels and rose? Can you tell us? And what of the missing gauntlet?”

“The rings and the rose my servant found in my coat,” answered Farquhart, his eyes so intent on his questioner’s face that he failed to see the smile that curved the lips of those who heard him. “The gauntlet I never saw, I never had it in my possession for a moment.”

“How did you account for the jewels in your coat if you did not put them there yourself?” demanded Lord Grimsby.

“At first I was at a loss to account for them at all.” Lord Farquhart’s voice showed plainly that he resented the change in his questioner’s manner. “I recalled my cousin’s confusion when she had told her tale of highway robbery, and all at once it seemed to me that the whole affair was an invention of her own, some madcap jest that she was playing on me, perchance to test my bravery, to see if I would ride forthwith after the villain. If so, I had failed her signally, for I had accepted her commands and gone with her straight to London. I supposed, in furtherance of this idea, that she had hired her own servant, or bribed mine, to hide the jewels in my coat. I never thought once of the gauntlet she had claimed to lose, never remembered it from that night until now. I sent the jewels to her, and later in the day I taxed her with the jest, and she agreed, it seemed to me, that it had been a jest and asked that the return of the rings might close the incident. I have not spoken of it since, nor has she, until to-night.”

There was a long silence, and then Lord Grimsby spoke.

“Your manner carries conviction, Lord Farquhart, but Mr. Ashley’s tale sounds true. Perchance some prank is at the bottom of all this, but you will pardon me if I but fulfill my duty to the crown. The case shall be conducted with all speed, but until your name is cleared, or until we find the perpetrator of the joke, if joke it be, I must hold you prisoner.”

There was a short scuffle, a sharp clash of arms. But these came from Lord Farquhart’s friends. Lord Farquhart himself stood as though stunned. He walked away as though he were in a dream, and not until he was safely housed under bolt and bar in the sheriff’s lodge could he even try to sift the matter to a logical conclusion.

For an instant only did he wonder if Barbara and Ashley had chosen this way to rid themselves of him. He remembered with a gleam of triumph Barbara’s disdainful manner toward Ashley when he had stepped to her side, vouching for the truth of her statement. He remembered, too, that Barbara had had short moments of kindness toward him in the last few days, that there had been moments when she had been exceeding sweet to him; when he had even hoped that he was, indeed, winning her love.

Then, like a flash, he remembered Sylvia’s presence under the trees that afternoon. Undoubtedly Barbara had seen her, and if Barbara had grown to care for him ever so little, she would have resented bitterly a thing like that. That might have been the insult to which she referred. But the crime! Of what crime had he been guilty? Assuredly she did not believe, herself, the tale she had told. She did not believe that he was this highwayman.

Here Lord Farquhart caught a gleam of light. Ashley might have convinced her that such a tale was true. Ashley might have arranged the highway robbery and might have placed the jewels in his coat to throw the guilt on him. Ashley was undoubtedly at the bottom of the whole thing. Then he remembered Ashley’s flush when the gauntlet had been referred to. Had Ashley kept the gauntlet, then?

Following fast upon this question was another flash of light even brighter than the first. To Farquhart the truth seemed to stand out clear and transparent. Ashley was the gentleman of the highways! Ashley was the Black Devil. Farquhart threw back his head and laughed long and loud. If only he had used his wits, he would have denounced the fellow where he stood.

And in this realization of Ashley’s guilt, and in the consciousness that Barbara must love him at least a little if she had been jealous of Sylvia, Lord Farquhart slept profoundly.