The Moon Rock by Arthur J. Rees (e novels to read TXT) 📗

assurance and went on, with a winning smile.

“But you are in my brother’s confidence, doctor—you were present at our family gathering this afternoon. It is because of that I have come to see you again, at this late hour. My husband and I are returning to London in the morning, and there would be no other opportunity. I have been thinking over all my brother said this afternoon, and I am very much distressed about my niece.”

He gave a short comprehending nod which encouraged her to proceed.

“I am extremely desirous of preventing this scandal of my brother’s marriage coming to light after all these years,” she earnestly pursued. “It seems to me that Robert has decided to let the truth be known without first considering all the circumstances. He has forgotten that if he succeeds in restoring the title he will come prominently into the public eye. As the holder of a famous name his affairs will have a public interest, and details will be published in the newspapers and eagerly read. That is why this story about Sisily’s mother would be so terrible for all of us, and especially for Sisily.”

“I should think your brother had foreseen all this.” said Dr. Ravenshaw, after a short pause.

“I do not think Robert has realized it,” Mrs. Pendleton eagerly rejoined. “He is a most unworldly man, and lives in a world of his own. His whole life has been devoted to the idea of restoring the title. He has thought of nothing else since he was a boy. He is quite incapable of understanding what a sensation this story of an earlier marriage will cause if it is made public. Indeed, I did not realize it myself until afterwards. Then I decided to come and see you, and ask your help.”

“I quite agree with you that it would be better if the story could remain unknown, after all these years. But how can I help you?”

She had anticipated that question, and proceeded to unfold her plan.

“It might be kept quiet, I think,” she said meditatively. “It is Robert’s duty to keep it secret for Sisily’s sake. I am chiefly concerned about her. Girls are difficult, so different from boys! It wouldn’t be so bad if she were a boy. A boy could change his name and emigrate, go on a ranch and forget all about it. But it is different for a girl. Leaving the shock out of the question, this thing would spoil Sisily’s life and ruin her chances of a good marriage if it was allowed to come out. People will talk. It is inevitable that they should, in the circumstances. I fancy the matter could be arranged in a way to satisfy Robert—so as not to interfere with his plans about the title.”

“What do you suggest?”

“Sisily could be told that there is some obstacle which prevents her succeeding to the title. Robert has not brought her up as an heiress with expectations. He has never treated her fairly, poor girl. It was his dream to have a son to succeed him. Not that it would have made any difference if Sisily had been a son, after what’s come to light! Sisily would never question anything that was told her about this wretched title, for I’m quite sure that the idea of inheriting it has never entered her head. It certainly never entered mine. I thought titles descended in the male line. I don’t know, really, but that has always been my idea.”

“It depends on the terms of the original creation. The Turrald barony originally went into abeyance among several daughters. One daughter could have succeeded. There is nothing in the wording of the original writ to prevent it—no limitation to male heirs. It is now well established by precedent that a daughter can inherit a barony by writ. But for the unhappy obstacle revealed by your brother’s story, his daughter would undoubtedly have succeeded to the restored title on his death.”

“I’m sure it’s very good of you to explain it to me,” murmured Mrs. Pendleton, in some confusion of mind. “It sounds quite reasonable, too. A woman can inherit the throne of England, so why not a title? But it never occurred to me before. Sisily, of course, cannot succeed to my brother’s title because of her birth. But is there any need for this to be known? Could she not sign a paper renouncing her rights in return for a share of my brother’s fortune?”

“I doubt if the law would approve of the arrangement if it became known.”

“The law should realize that it was done from the best of motives to keep from an innocent girl a secret which would darken her life,” responded Mrs. Pendleton with decision.

“I wasn’t looking at it altogether in that light,” replied Dr. Ravenshaw with a slow shake of the head. “But it might have been tried—oh yes, it might have been tried.” He rose from his chair, and paced thoughtfully up and down the room.

“Is it too late to try it now?” she asked.

He looked at her thoughtfully.

“In what way?”

“By trying to persuade my brother to change his mind.”

“He is not likely to change his mind.”

“That,” responded Mrs. Pendleton, “remains to be put to the test. I intend to see him to-night, before it is too late. I beg you for Sisily’s sake to come with me and try and persuade him.”

“Such a request as you propose to make should come only from a member of the family,” replied Dr. Ravenshaw. “It is a matter in which I would rather not be involved. If you wish support, I would remind you that there are two other members of your own family—your other brother and his son—staying temporarily in this churchtown, not far from here. Why not go to them?”

With a charmingly feminine gesture Mrs. Pendleton washed her hands of the other members of the family. “I would not dream of going to Austin,” she said in decided tones. “He would not approve of my plan, nor, indeed, would Robert listen to him if he did. But he would listen to you, I feel sure. That is my reason for coming to you.” She rose from her seat, and sought to shepherd him into compliance by approaching him with a propitiatory smile. “Do come, doctor. I have trespassed too much on your kindness already, but oblige me further in this.”

“It’s rather late for a visit,” he replied.

“It’s only half-past nine,” she said, with a glance at her wrist watch. “My brother sits up till all hours over his papers and books. I will take all responsibility upon myself for the visit. I will tell Robert that I literally had to drag you with me, and he will understand that we simply had to see him to-night, as he knows we are going home to London first thing in the morning. Do come, Dr. Ravenshaw. The car is waiting.”

He consulted his own watch.

“Very well, Mrs. Pendleton,” he assented. “I will accompany you. Please excuse me while I get my coat.”

He rejoined them in a moment or two, and they proceeded outside to the waiting car.

Chapter IX

A few minutes later the car stopped in the gloom outside the old house on the cliffs. The storm had passed, but the sea still raged white beneath an inky sky. A faint gleam from a shuttered front window pointed a finger of light to the gravel path which led to the front door.

Mrs. Pendleton knocked, and an answer came quickly. The door was partly opened, and Thalassa’s voice from within parleyed: “Who’s there?”

“Mrs. Pendleton—your master’s sister,” was the reply. “Let us in, Thalassa.”

The door was at once opened wide, and Thalassa stood back for them to enter. By the light of the lamp he carried they saw that he was dressed and coated for a journey, with his hat on.

“I’m glad you’ve come,” he said to Dr. Ravenshaw. “It’s you I was just going out to fetch.”

There was something strange in his manner, and the doctor looked at him quickly. “What’s the matter with you, man? Is there anything wrong?”

“That’s what I don’t know. But I’m afeered, yes, by God, I’m afeered.”

His voice broke hoarsely, and he stood before them with his eyes averted from the three wondering faces regarding him. Mrs. Pendleton stepped quickly forward, and grasped his arm.

“What is it, Thalassa? Has anything happened to my brother?”

“There’s been a great noise in his room, like as if something heavy had crashed down, then silence like the grave. I went up and called—an’ tried to open the door, but I couldn’t.”

“Why didn’t you try to break in the door?” said Dr. Ravenshaw.

“Tweren’t my place,” was the dogged retort. “I know my place. I was just going to St. Fair for you and his brother.”

“How long is it since this happened—since you heard the crash, I mean.”

“Not many minutes agone. Just before you came to the door.”

“Light us upstairs at once, Thalassa,” said Mrs. Pendleton sharply.

“Mrs. Pendleton, will you wait downstairs while we investigate?” suggested Dr. Ravenshaw.

“No,” she resolutely answered. “I will come with you, doctor. Robert may need me. Do not let us waste any more time.”

She slipped past him to Thalassa, who was mounting the stairs. Dr. Ravenshaw hurried after her. Mr. Pendleton, with an obvious call on his courage, followed last. The lamp in Thalassa’s hand burnt unsteadily, first flaming angrily, then flickering to a glimmer which brought them to a pause, one above the other on the stairs, listening intently, and looking into the darkness above.

“His bedroom is open and empty,” said Thalassa when they had reached the end of the passage above. “See!” He pointed to the gaping door, and then turned to the closed one opposite. “He’s in here.” His voice sank to a whisper. “It was from here the noise came.”

He placed the lamp on the floor, and knocked hesitatingly on the dark panel of the closed door, then again more loudly, but there was no reply. Far beneath them they could hear the solemn roar of the sea dashing against the cliffs, but there was no sound in the closed chamber. Its stillness and hush seemed intensified by the clamour of the sea, as though calamity were brooding in the darkness within.

“Robert, Robert!” The high pitch of Mrs. Pendleton’s voice shattered the quietude like the startling clang of an unexpected bell. “Knock again, Thalassa, more loudly, very loudly,” she cried, in the shrill accents of tightened nerves.

Thalassa approached the door again, but recoiled swiftly. “God A’mighty!” he hoarsely exclaimed, pointing, “what’s that?”

They followed the direction of his finger to the floor, and saw a sluggish thin dark trickle making its way underneath the door. Mr. Pendleton stooped and examined it, but rose immediately.

“There’s been trouble in there,” he said, with a pale face.

“How could anybody get in?” said Thalassa sullenly. “The door is locked from the inside, and it’s two hundred feet from the windows to the bottom of the cliffs.”

“Oh, for pity’s sake stop talking and do something,” cried Mrs. Pendleton hysterically. “My poor brother may be dying.” She rattled the door-handle. “Robert, Robert, what is the matter? Let me in. It is I—Constance.”

“We must break in the door,” said Dr. Ravenshaw. “Stand away, Mrs. Pendleton, please. Now, Thalassa, both together.”

The doctor and the servant put their shoulders to the door. Mr. Pendleton watched them with a white face, but did not go to their assistance. At the fourth effort there was a sound of splintering wood, the lock gave, and the door swung back.

They peered in. At first they could see nothing. The light of the swinging-lamp had been lowered, and the interior of the room was veiled in shadow. Then their eyes detected a dark outline on the floor between the table and the window—the figure of a man, lying athwart the carpet with arms outstretched, face downwards, the spread finger-tips clutching at some heavy dark object between the head and the arms.

Thalassa stepped across the threshold, and with shaking hand turned up the lowered wick of the swinging lamp. The light revealed the stark form of Robert Turold. At this sight Mrs. Pendleton broke into a loud cry and essayed to cross the room to her brother’s side.

“Keep back, Mrs. Pendleton!” cried Dr. Ravenshaw, interposing himself in front of her. “I begged of you not to come upstairs. Mr. Pendleton, take your wife away at once.”

But Mr. Pendleton’s timorous and inferior mind was incapable of translating the command into action. He could only stare dumbly before him.

“No, no! Let me stay, I will be calm,” Mrs. Pendleton pleaded. “Is—is he dead, doctor?”

Dr. Ravenshaw crossed to the centre of the room and bent over the body, feeling the heart. Husband and wife watched him, huddled together, their white