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The Dark House: A Knot Unravelled, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 14. A Clever Diplomatist |
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_ CHAPTER FOURTEEN. A CLEVER DIPLOMATIST "Doctor Heston, you surprise me. There was the inquest." "Yes, where my opinion, sir, was overruled by the coroner and my colleague, both elderly medical men, sir, while I am young and comparatively inexperienced. You are disposed to think that this is a case of professional jealousy." "I will be frank with you. I did think so." "Exactly, but pray disabuse your mind. I am not jealous. I am angry with myself for giving way in that case. It seemed all very straightforward, but it was not." "May I ask what you mean?" "I mean, sir, that I am certain that our poor old Indian friend did not die from the blow that he received from that life-preserver." "How then?" said Capel, huskily. "It seems to me that he must have been poisoned in some way or another, and I could not rest without coming to you." "Oh, impossible." "Perhaps so, sir, but I am telling you what I believe. Do you think he had any enemies here?" "Oh, no; the servants seemed to have been on friendly terms." "Well, it hardly seems like it." "That wretch must have yielded to a terrible temptation," said Capel, "and the other was defending his master's goods." "What goods?" said the doctor. Capel was silent. "I see, sir, there is more mystery about this than you care to explain. Was there some heavy sum of money in the late Colonel's room, and were these two men in league?" "I don't think they were in league." "Was any one else interested in the matter?" "Oh, no; impossible," said Capel, half aloud. "Dr Heston, I am afraid there is a good deal of imagination in what you say. Let me try and disabuse your mind." "I should be glad if you could." Capel paced the room for a few minutes. "This has taken me quite by surprise, Doctor Heston," he said. "Give me a little time to think it over. Will you keep perfectly private all that you have said to me?" "I don't like to suspect men unjustly, and yet I'm afraid I've done wrong, in giving him time," said the doctor, as he went down. "Well, a week is not an age." As soon as he had left, Paul Capel let his head go down upon his hands, for his brain seemed to be in a whirl--the death of Ramo--the disappearance of the fortune--the visit of the doctor. It only wanted this latter, with the hints he had thrown out, to fire a train of latent suspicion in the young man's mind. There was that open window that the policeman had declared had not been used. Was he wrong? Had others been in the conspiracy and turned afterwards on Ramo and Charles? They might have been in the plot. Or, again, they might have been defending their master's wealth against the wretch who had escaped with the treasure by the open window. Those three Italians! Had they anything to do with the matter? The old butler! He seemed so quiet and innocent! But often beneath an air of innocency, crime found a resting place. Then he found himself suspecting Mr Girtle, and on the face of the evidence Capel laid before himself, the case looked very black. He knew everything; he held the keys--he, the old friend and companion, had been left merely a signet ring. "Impossible!" cried Capel, half aloud; "I might as well suspect Artis, or Miss Lawrence, or Katrine herself." "May I come in," said a voice that sent a thrill through the thinker, and Katrine D'Enghien stood in the doorway. "Come in? Yes," cried Capel, advancing to meet her with open hands, and moved by an impulse that he could not withstand. "Is anything the matter," she said simply. "Yes--no--yes, a great deal is the matter," cried Capel. "There, I must speak to you." "Mr Capel!" she said, half in alarm. "Forgive me if I seem impetuous," he cried, "but I am greatly troubled in mind, and I feel as if I would give anything for the sympathy of one who would listen to my troubles, and help me with her counsel." "Surely you have all our sympathy, Mr Capel," said Katrine, innocently. "Yes, I hope so," he cried earnestly, "but I want more than that, Katrine. You must know that I love you." "Mr Capel!" "Pray do not be angry with me." "Is this a time or season to make such a declaration to me, Mr Capel?" said Katrine, softly. "For some things--no, for other things--yes. I am in such sore need of help and counsel, such as could be given me by the woman who returned my love. No, no; don't leave me. Hear me out. As soon as I heard that will read, it filled my heart with joy, for it told me that I was rich, and that these were riches which I could share with you. Then, when the discovery was made that the treasure had been stolen, it was not the wealth that I regretted, but I despaired because it seemed that you were farther from me. But listen to me. I am trying hard to discover how this large fortune has been swept away." Katrine's eyes glittered. "Help me in my endeavours, and tell me this--some day if I make the discovery, and am once more in a position to ask you to be my wife--you will listen to me?" She raised her beautiful eyes to his, and he caught her hand. It was withdrawn, and she said softly: "I am sorry you should think me so sordid." "Then you love me," he cried. "I made no such confession. The man to whom I give my hand will not be chosen for the sake of his money." "Then I may hope?" he cried. "Mr Capel, is it not your duty to find your fortune?" "Yes, but let me say, our fortune," he cried. "Mr Capel, do not speak to me again like this. I should feel that I was standing in your light if I listened now." "But at some future time?" She looked at him softly, and his breath went and came fast, as her speaking eyes rested on his, and he saw the damask-red deepen in her cheeks. "Wait till that future time comes," she whispered. "And you will help me?" he cried. "Yes," she said, at last, "I will help you--all I can." He would have caught her in his arms, but she raised her hand. "I thought we were to be friends." "Friends," he whispered. "I love you." "It must be then as a friend," she said, in her low voice; but there was that in her look which made Capel's heart throb, while, when she extended her hand, he kissed it, without being aware that Lydia had entered the room, and drawn back, with a weary look of misery in her face that she vainly sought to hide. _ |
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