Chapter 21

A POSSIBLE SCANDAL.

After all, Lord Prelice did not return to Hythe on that night, much as he desired to. In view of this new complication, which threatened the domestic peace of Lady Sophia Haken, her nephew decided to remain in London, and give all his energies towards solving the problem. He could not think that Haken had anything to do with the murder of Agstone. In the first place, he had no reason to kill the man; in the second, he did not possess any leaves of the Sacred Herb with which to make Shepworth unconscious. Certainly it was Agstone who had kindled the leaves in the bronze cup, but he must have obtained them from Mr. Haken—presuming he was the disguised lady—-since he could have obtained them in no other way. Sir Oliver had possessed a portion of the plant, but had used it in the library when he was murdered, so the old sailor could not have procured the leaves in that direction. Prelice began to wonder if Haken had got the leaves from Madame Marie Eppingrave to execute his purpose.

But then, so far as Prelice knew, his uncle was not acquainted with the Bond Street fortune-teller. And again, he was well acquainted with Dr. Horace, who admitted to possession of the leaves, and, more than this, had actually burnt the Sacred Herb in the New Bailey. Lord Prelice decided first to call upon his uncle in the city, and lay the facts discovered before him, and then to interview Dr. Horace. In these two several ways he might get at the truth. Also, somewhat later, he decided to again speak with Madame Marie, and if possible see her in the presence of Captain Jadby. When that buccaneer learned that Mona was engaged to another man, and that she had inherited the property, he might bow to fate and leave things alone. Finally, Prelice knew that he had a powerful ally in the fortune-teller. From what he had seen of her strong-willed character he guessed that she would stick at nothing to secure as her husband the man with whom she was infatuated.

Bearing all these circumstances in mind, Prelice sent a wire to Mona stating that business detained him in London, and also went to his club to write his first love letter. In this he carefully refrained from mentioning the case, and merely poured out his heart in a passionate dithyramb in honour of his goddess. Mona, for the moment, felt some disappointment when she noted the absence of information regarding Madame Marie, but later confessed that her lover was right. It would never have done for the first letter which had passed between them to be soiled by the sordid tragedy in which she had been implicated. All the same, much as she appreciated Prelice's slightly turgid prose, her heart hungered to learn of his doings relative to the case. She felt that she would not know a happy moment until the truth were made manifest. Then she could become Lady Prelice with a light heart.

The next day Prelice went into the city to see his uncle, and learned that Mr. Haken had gone to Paris for a few days. He was expected back on the morrow, as he already had been absent for some time, so all that his eager nephew could do was to possess his soul in patience. Prelice returned to his club rather disappointed, and there found a telegram waiting for him. It had been sent to his Hythe hotel, and had been repeated on to his club, since it was marked "Urgent." It proved to be from Horace, and asked Prelice to come up at once. "Be at my house at three in the afternoon. Important," said the wire.

"I wonder what this means?" Prelice asked himself uneasily, and fretted over the matter until the time came for him to go to Rutland Square.

There was no getting over the fact that the mystery of this case was telling on Prelice's strong nerves.

Nor was his uneasiness diminished when he found that Dr. Horace was not alone. With him were Captain Jadby and Madame Marie Eppingrave, both of whom appeared to be on very good terms with their host. As usual, the room was untidy with its litter of curiosities, but Prelice managed to find a seat with his back to the light. This he did so as to keep his face well in the shade, as he had a premonition that there was about to be a duel of words. Indeed, the first whispered remark of Horace hinted at a storm about to break.

"You silly ass," grumbled the doctor in his beard as he went forward to welcome his guest, "why couldn't you leave things alone as I told you to? Now all the fat is on the fire with a vengeance."

Prelice shrugged his shoulders with a carelessness which he was far from feeling, and saluted Madame Marie with a bow. Of Captain Jadby, who stood fidgeting by the window, he took no notice. The buccaneer noticed the omission, and resented it. "English manners, I suppose," sneered the half-caste pointedly.

Prelice sat down calmly, and took up the challenge. "Considering our last meeting, when you treacherously fired on my friend, you can hardly expect me to behave courteously."

"I wish I had killed him," flashed out Jadby viciously.

"I quite believe that; but you did not harm him in the least," retorted Prelice, lying bravely to defend Ned, and to annoy the captain.

"I wounded him in the arm," snarled Jadby. "Didn't I, Marie?"

"I certainly saw that Mr. Shepworth was slightly hurt," replied the fortune-teller; "in a trance, of course."

"Ah!" replied Prelice negligently, "your trances are not always reliable, Madame."

"I think you have found that one is, at least," she replied in her turn, and very significantly.

"What does Captain Jadby think?" asked Prelice genially. He felt sure that the woman had not dared to risk the buccaneer's rage by explaining what she had said.

"Madame Marie told me that she went into a trance on your account," said Jadby, taking a chair, sullenly, "but, of course, she did not remember what she said, and could not explain to me."

"Since Madame is certain that this especial trance is reliable," was Prelice's retort, "she must remember something."

"Oh, the deuce take your chatter," shouted Horace ruffling his shaggy red hair, in a high state of irritation. "I didn't ask you here to waste my time in drivel."

"In that case, as my time is also valuable, I had better go."

"No, no, confound you," said Horace crossly, and seeing that Prelice knew well how to treat his humours. "Madame here, and Jadby, wish to speak to you seriously."

"I fail to see upon what subject."

"Upon the subject of Miss Chent," cried the buccaneer savagely.

"I decline to discuss an absent lady," said Prelice coolly.

"You are engaged to her."

"Am I indeed?"

"But you sha'n't marry her."

"Won't I! See here!" Prelice rose, very tall and very straight and very cool-headed, "if you persist in going like this, Captain Jadby, I shall be compelled to twist your neck."

"English manners," sneered the half-caste again.

"Not at all. Colonial manners, South Sea manners if you will, and very necessary manners for dealing with a ruffian such as you are."

"I'll kill you for this," muttered Jadby, sinking back into his chair.

"With your little gun?" taunted Prelice pleasantly. "I hope you'll shoot straighter. I never saw so rotten a shot."

"I can do more than shoot."

"Yes—you can bark."

"And bite too. See here, I asked you here to tell you, in the presence of Horace, that if you don't stop meddling with things which do not concern you, I'll disgrace your uncle."

Prelice never winced. He had a kind of idea that something of this sort was forthcoming, and merely laughed aggravatingly. "Which uncle?" said he, calmly. "I have two or three."

"Mr. Simon Haken."

"Oh indeed." Prelice turned to Horace. "Are you on my side, or on the side of these blackmailers?" he demanded.

Madame Marie arose furiously. "I am not a blackmailer," she cried, and her deep-toned voice became shrill with anger. "I did not want to say anything, and if Felix does not swear to give up this girl, I shall refuse to speak out."

"No," snapped Jadby, with a fierce glance; at which, strange to say, the courageous woman looked cowed. "You shall speak as I direct."

"Are you on my side or on theirs?" Prelice asked Horace again.

"On yours, hang you," snarled the ugly little man. "And if I were not, you would find yourself in Queer Street, I can tell you."

Prelice took no notice of this outburst, but turned to the woman. "Are you against me?" he demanded.

"I am neutral," she retorted uneasily.

"I see; and Jadby there is an open enemy. Well, now that I understand the situation, perhaps you will let me know how Mr. Haken can be disgraced by you two, or you three."

"We can accuse him of murder," said Jadby, choking with anger at the exasperating coolness of the young aristocrat.

"Good. Go on."

"Of two murders?" spat out the half-caste.

"Better and better. Ha! I understand then that you, Captain Jadby, and you, Madame Marie, accuse Mr. Haken of killing Sir Oliver Lanwin and Steve Agstone?"

"Yes," snapped the captain; and "Yes," breathed the woman, very pale.

Prelice looked quietly at them. "Prove these charges," he said.

"One moment," said Dr. Horace, getting out his German pipe. "Remember, Prelice, that this business is none of my bringing about. I warned you against meddling in the case, and you would not take my warning. You have only yourself to thank for what is coming."

"I am perfectly ready to take the responsibility of my actions," was the stiff retort of the young man; and he turned to Jadby. "Go on!"

The captain, bursting with venom, was only too pleased to relieve himself in a torrent of words. "Before my father, Sir Oliver, died, he frequently talked to me about the estate—sought my counsel, in fact. I thus learned that Mr. Haken, although supposed to be a wealthy man, was in difficulties owing to disastrous speculation. He asked Sir Oliver to lend him fifty thousand pounds to tide over a crisis, and this my father refused to do. Naturally Mr. Haken was very angry——"

"Probably!" put in Prelice coolly; "but what you say does not prove that Mr. Haken killed Sir Oliver."

"Let me speak now," said Horace rapidly. "I was the sole possessor of the Sacred Herb, which, if you remember, Prelice, I brought from Easter Island. I gave some to Haken, who desired to get the same for Sir Oliver. You see," pursued the traveller, "Haken knew that Lanwin was much interested in occult studies, so thought to tempt him to lend the necessary fifty thousand pounds by getting him this rare herb, which, as you know, produces a trance."

"I see." Prelice nodded. "Then Mr. Haken confessed to you that he desired the loan of this money?"

"He did, saying that his affairs were in a bad way. With the gift of the Sacred Herb he hoped to soften Sir Oliver's heart, which was somewhat hard where money matters were concerned."

"I never knew that Mr. Haken was aware of Lanwin's inclination to the occult," said Prelice quietly.

"He was in a way," said Madame Marie suddenly, and taking up the story; "but, of course, I told him more, being very friendly with Sir Oliver, as you know. Mr. Haken was superstitious himself—as the saying goes—and frequently consulted me about stocks and shares."

"What?" Prelice looked incredulous. "Do you mean to tell me that a hard-headed man like Mr. Haken consulted you?"

"He did; and I was enabled to serve him by my powers. I understood, Lord Prelice, that you believed in the Occult World."

"I do," rejoined the young man dryly, "because I have had considerable experience and possess imagination. But Mr. Haken——"

"He believed also," interrupted the fortune-teller quickly, "and came to me for advice. It was I who recommended him to apply to his old friend, Sir Oliver, for the fifty thousand pounds. When Sir Oliver refused, I told Mr. Haken that he should get some of the Sacred Herb from Dr. Horace, and give it to Sir Oliver, in the hope that the gift would make Sir Oliver hand over the money."

"How did you know that Dr. Horace had the herb?" asked Prelice sharply.

"Madame Marie and I were acquainted in Samoa," put in the traveller, "and when we met in London I told her that I had succeeded in getting the famous trance herb of Easter Island. She asked me for some leaves to use in her business, and I declined."

"Why, when you gave the same to Sir Oliver?" inquired Prelice.

"Because I wished to keep the herb to myself," said Horace, his rugged face growing dark; "but when Haken asked me for it to get money out of Lanwin I gave it readily. I hated Lanwin. He thwarted me in Tahiti—it matters not how—and he treated my brother Steve like a dog. I knew that Haken would lose the fifty thousand, and wished Lanwin to see the last of the cash. I would have ruined Lanwin if I could."

"This is quite a new light on your character, Horace," said Prelice, with uplifted eyebrows. "However, I understand that for your own purposes, which you have so kindly set forth, you gave the herb to Lanwin."

"Not personally," retorted the doctor, scowling; "I gave it to Haken, and he passed it to Madame Marie."

"And it was I who presented the herb to Sir Oliver, after retaining some leaves for my own use," said the woman coolly. "It was on the night of the murder that Mr. Haken came down to see Sir Oliver."

"Can you swear to that?" demanded Prelice, watching her.

"I can," she assured him emphatically. "Mr. Haken knew that I was to give the herb to Sir Oliver on that night, and came down so as to strike the iron while it was hot, by explaining how he had procured the herb from Dr. Horace. Mr. Haken came in quietly by the window when I was conversing with Sir Oliver in the library. That was about nine o'clock. Agstone entered to close the windows—they were not shuttered, remember—and also saw Mr. Haken. At five minutes after nine—if you recollect the evidence I gave in Court—I went to bed, leaving Mr. Haken alone with Sir Oliver——" She paused.

"And then?" questioned Prelice.

"There is nothing more to say," she replied coldly. "Mr. Haken was in the library with a man from whom he desired to get money. It was, I believe, refused; and then Mr. Haken murdered Sir Oliver, afterwards burning the Sacred Herb, about the time Miss Chent entered the room. Needless to say, before she entered, Mr. Haken had gone."

"A very pretty story," said Prelice, quite unmoved. "That is one crime no doubt; but the other?"

"I can explain," said Jadby, enraged at the young man's coolness. "From Madame Marie I learned that Mr. Haken was going to Mrs. Rover's ball to see his goddaughter and Shepworth, and——"

"How did you know that?" asked Prelice, turning to the woman.

"Mrs. Rover consulted me occultly about her marriage, and confessed amongst other things that Mr. Haken was her godfather. I saw that Mrs. Rover was in that reckless state which might lead to a scandal, and I told everything to Mr. Haken. He resolved to go to the masked ball and remonstrate with Mrs. Rover, and afterwards with Mr. Shepworth. I told Captain Jadby."

"And I went there," said the captain quickly, "because I knew that Haken had killed Sir Oliver, and wished to see him, in order to get some money."

"To blackmail him, in fact," said Prelice coolly. "So you were the Continental individual whom my uncle was to meet."

"Yes. But he was too clever for me. He came in an ordinary domino, and afterwards changed to a green one with a dress similar to that of Mrs. Rover's."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because I was hunting for Mr. Haken, and heard him chuckle. For the moment I fancied that he was Mrs. Rover owing to the dress, but when he chuckled I guessed it was Mr. Haken. He eluded me, however, but not before I had smelt the perfume of the tuberose, which the Sacred Herb gives out. When you discovered the crime, Lord Prelice, I guessed that Mr. Haken, disguised as Mrs. Rover, so as to implicate her with Shepworth, should there be trouble, had gone down and murdered Agstone."

"How did Agstone come there? How did Mr. Haken know he would be there?"

Jadby leaned back coolly. "I cannot answer either of those questions," he said calmly; "perhaps Mr. Haken can."

There was a few moments of silence, which Prelice broke. "Well," he asked, rising, "and what are your terms for silence?"

"You must give up Miss Chent to me," said the captain, with a glance of gratification, for he fancied that Prelice was yielding. "I shall marry her, and then we shall live at the Grange."

"Ah, but you see it will not be your property," said Prelice politely.

Jadby sprang to his feet. "Not my property?"

"No. I fear that Dr. Horace has not informed you that Agstone brought the will, leaving everything to Miss Chent, to him, and that he has restored it to the lady. You are a pauper, Captain Jadby. Miss Chent has the money, and shortly she will have me as her husband."

Jadby took scarcely any notice of Prelice, important as was the matter he talked about. "Horace," he cried, glaring viciously, "you have played me false."

"I never intended to play you true," said Horace contemptuously.

"Then I shall ruin Haken," cried Jadby, at his wits' end with sheer rage.

"Do so," said Prelice, walking to the door. "I decline to be blackmailed. Good-day." And he walked out.

After him came Madame Marie before he could descend the stairs. She gripped him by the arm earnestly, and looked into his face. Prelice could hear the captain and Horace quarrelling desperately in the room he had left, but waited patiently until the woman spoke.

"Swear to me," panted Madame Marie, "that Jadby will never, never marry that girl, and I will help you."

"In what way?"

"For one thing, I shall stop Felix from denouncing your uncle."

"Pooh! That's bluff!"

"Indeed, indeed it isn't," said the woman passionately. "What I have told you is perfectly true. Your uncle will be in great danger if Felix speaks. But swear to save him from that girl, and I shall stop all trouble about Mr. Haken."

"I swear," said Prelice quietly; "especially as it is the dearest wish of my life to make Miss Chent my wife."

"Beware—oh, be careful!" implored Madame Marie, clinging to Prelice. "I know that Felix is desperate; he is dangerous."

"I am not afraid of him. He cannot hurt me."

"But he may hurt her," cried Madame Marie. "If anything goes wrong, come to me. I can help you."

"I shall do so; but why do you work against the man you love?"

"Because I can secure him in no other way. I want him to leave England to marry me. While he stops here, and is infatuated with Miss Chent, there is no hope. Hark! Felix is calling. Remember, we are outwardly enemies, but inwardly friends. You promise." On this she produced a small golden crucifix.

Considering the exigencies of the case, Prelice was willing to promise anything, even to a doubtfully good woman, such as Madame Marie appeared to be. But the production of the crucifix took him aback.

"I give you my word," he said, stiffly.

"I want your oath," she retorted. "Swear on this, to aid me to marry Felix, or I do nothing."

There was no help for it, and Prelice had to make allowance for Madame Marie's flamboyant, foreign way of exaggeration. "I swear to help you," he said, and kissed the crucifix.