The Third Volume Read online

  CHAPTER XXIII.

  FACT AND FICTION.

  A SILENCE ensued between them; Tait waiting to mark the effect of hisrevelation, while Jenny tried to grasp the idea that fiction had changedunexpectedly to fact. To her the case had been more or less of aromance, far removed and impossible; as such she had told it to Linton;but now, brought face to face with the fact that the murdered man's sonwas in the neighborhood, she scarcely knew what to think, certainly shewas ignorant what to say. The shock would have unstrung a more nervouswoman, but Jenny Paynton was not wanting in pluck, and so braced herselfup to do what was required of her. Yet it took her a little time torecover, and seeing this, Tait afforded her the opportunity by talkingbroadly of the matter; later on he intended to enter into details.

  "I do not wonder you are startled, Miss Paynton," he said easily; "thisis a coincidence such as we rarely meet with in real life. My friend wasignorant of his father's fate, but one evening papers were put into hishands which recounted the tragedy; papers similar to those whence youobtained the story. He came to tell me all, but scarcely had he begunhis relation, when I became aware that I knew everything beforehand."

  "Had you also seen the papers, Mr. Tait?"

  "No; but I had read 'A Whim of Fate.' There I found the Larcher affairset forth in the guise of fiction. Astonished at this I sought outLinton, who, I learned, was the author hidden under the name of JohnParver, and asked him whence he obtained his material. He mentioned yourname, and so I have come to you."

  "Why?"

  "Can you ask? To find out all you know of the matter."

  "For what reason?"

  "I think you can guess my reason," replied Tait quietly. "My friendClaude Larcher wishes to find out who killed his father."

  "After five-and-twenty years? Impossible!"

  "So I said at first. Now I am of a different opinion. In a short spaceof time we have found out a great deal. With your help we will discovermore, and so in the end the matter may be cleared up."

  "You want my help?"

  "Decidedly! It is solely for that reason that Larcher and I have comehere."

  It was a pale-faced Jenny who sat considering a reply to this remark.She began to be aware that she had inadvertently set a ball rolling, theprogress of which she was powerless to stop. That chance discovery inthe garret had resuscitated an old scandal, and brought her into contactwith people of whose existence she had hitherto been ignorant. As amatter of fact Jenny was responsible for the revival of the Larcheraffair. Her narration of the plot had caused the writing of the novel,and that in its turn had freshened the memory of Mrs. Bezel, with theresult that Claude had been told the truth. Now he had come to thesource to learn more.

  "I don't see how I can help," said Jenny, fencing with the inevitable."If, as you say, Mr. Larcher saw the _Canterbury Observer_, he must knowas much as I do about the matter."

  "Very true," replied Tait promptly; "but there are many things in thenovel which are not mentioned in the report of the case."

  "Those things are fictitious. You must go to Frank for information aboutthem."

  "Was that scarfpin episode fictitious?"

  "No," replied Jenny, with some hesitation. "Kerry told me that."

  "Kerry!"

  "Our man-servant. He has been with my father ever since I can remember,and is quite the autocrat of the household. He found me with thosepapers one day after I told Frank the story, and took them away from me.You have no idea how angry he was that I had read them."

  "Yet he told you about the scarfpin?"

  "Oh! that was because I asked him who had committed the crime," saidJenny quickly. "At first he would not talk about it, but when I saidthat no doubt Jeringham was guilty, since he had fled, Kerry denied it,and asserted that the crime was committed by the man who owned thegarnet scarfpin."

  "Did he say who owned it?"

  "No. He went away before I could ask him, and will not let me speak ofthe matter. In the book Frank makes Michael Dene the owner of the pin."

  "Ah! and Michael Dene is Francis Hilliston in real life."

  "How do you know that?" asked the girl quickly, with a nervous start.

  "My dear young lady, I have read the report of the case and the novel.It is easy to see who your fictitious personages are. Do you know Mr.Hilliston?"

  "A little. He has visited my father once or twice, but we have not seenhim now for many years. In fact, I had almost forgotten his name till Isaw it in the case."

  "Humph! In the novel Michael Dene, the man meant for Hilliston, commitsthe crime. Was that your idea or Linton's?"

  "It was Frank's. Dene was the least likely person to be suspected, andit was necessary to keep up the mystery to the end. But I think he oughtto have made Markham commit the crime."

  "Markham is Jeringham, is he not?" said Tait thoughtfully. "With yourpermission, Miss Paynton, we will use the real names, not thefictitious. It will help us to understand the matter more clearly."

  Jenny stood up, and tucked the music book under her arm. Therecollection of Kerry's anger made her feel that she was unwise to talkso freely to a stranger about the matter. Hitherto, Tait had taken hisown way; now she was resolved to take hers.

  "I don't want to speak any more about it," she said resolutely. "I amvery sorry I told Frank the story, and meddled with those papers. Let mepass, Mr. Tait, and drop the subject."

  "No, don't do that," cried Tait, rising in his turn, and barring herway. "You must not fail me at the eleventh hour. My friend is bent onlearning the truth, and surely you will not grudge him help. Remember itis the murderer of his father whom he desires to bring to justice."

  "I can't say any more. I know no more, Mr. Tait. Do you know what I amabout to do?"

  "No," said Tait, looking at her grave face in some wonder.

  "I am going home to tell my father and Kerry what use I made of thosepapers. If I have acted wrongly, it is but right that they should know."

  "They will know shortly without your telling, Miss Jenny."

  "Ah, you intend to speak of the matter yourself?"

  "Perhaps! But in this case I allude to Hilliston."

  "Hilliston!" repeated Jenny, in surprise. "What has he to do with thematter?"

  "A great deal, I fancy. More than you or I suspect. He is now atEastbourne, and I am certain he will come over here to see youto-morrow."

  "To see me! Why?"

  "Because he wants you to hold your tongue about these matters."

  "Mr. Tait," she cried, with a sudden flush, "surely you are not biasedby Frank's book? You imply that Mr. Hilliston is afraid of the truth."

  "I think he is! In fact I am sure he is."

  "Do you believe he committed that cowardly crime of twenty-five yearsago?" asked Jenny, with scorn.

  "What is your own opinion?" was the counter question.

  "I believe that Jeringham was the murderer. Yes! Captain Larcher went indisguise to that ball, and learned the truth from the lips of his ownwife. I believe she loved Jeringham. I believe he followed her home onthat fatal night, urging her to fly. Then Captain Larcher appeared onthe scene, and in the struggle that ensued he was killed. Jeringhamfled, and Mrs. Larcher died. That, I am certain, is the true history ofthis crime."

  "You, then, think that Mrs. Larcher was privy to the murder?"

  "Oh, I don't say that!" said the girl, shrinking back; "it is impossibleto say. But I have no right to talk to you about these matters, Mr.Tait. I have told you all I know. Let me pass, please."

  Tait bowed, and stood aside hat in hand. She flitted down the aisle, aslim girlish figure, and had arrived at the door when his voice arrestedher.

  "One moment, Miss Paynton," he said, following her quickly.

  "What is it?"

  "Don't tell your father of this for twenty-four hours."

  "Why?"

  "Because I want to prove to you that what I say is true. Hilliston willinform your father himself, and ask you to b
e silent."

  "It is too late for that now--unfortunately."

  "Why unfortunately? You should be glad to have strengthened the hands ofjustice. However, we need not speak of that now. Will you promise towithhold your confession for the time I ask?"

  "I promise nothing, Mr. Tait. Good-evening!"

  "But, Miss Paynton," he said, following her again, "you surely will notbe so rash. You can have no idea how important these matters are to myfriend. Mr. Hilliston is certain to inform your father within the nexttwenty-four hours, so surely you can give us that time to do what wecan. I beg of you----"

  Jenny stopped irresolutely, and looked at Tait with a mixture of angerand doubt. The matter had now grown so intricate that she did not knowwhat to do, what to say. She had not known Tait long enough to be guidedby his advice, or to rely on his judgment; and her impulse was to tellher father and receive suggestions as to what was best to be done underthe circumstances. Yet, she also mistrusted Hilliston, as his connectionwith the Horriston case seemed to her to be by no means as simple as hadappeared at first sight. She was suspicious of him, and if he came overto Thurston especially to ask her to be silent, that would go a long waytoward confirming her doubts. And then, after all, no harm could be donewithin the twenty-four hours, as afterward she could tell her father;thus, at once satisfying her conscience and her curiosity, she made thecompromise.

  "Very well, Mr. Tait," she said gravely. "I promise to be silent fortwenty-four hours."