CHAPTER IX. MRS. ST. LEGER IS DISCREET.

"Is that all?" asked Brenda, drawing a breath of relief. "Oh, you stupid boy, did you run away because you were afraid to tell me that?"

Captain Burton stared and drew a breath also--one of amazement. "Well, it's hard to understand a woman," he said, half smiling, half annoyed. "I made sure you'd cry your eyes out when you heard. Don't you understand, Brenda, what it means? If we are to marry at all, it must be on our five hundred a year?"

"And why not?" was her answer. "I am ready if you are, Harold. How could you give me all this anxiety for such a trifle? I want you, my dear, not the money. But I thought you must have had some other reason for going away."

"What other reason could I have had?" asked Burton, quickly, and waiting apprehensively for her reply.

"Never mind. I'll tell you later. Only the twenty thousand pounds! Well, after all, I'm not surprised to hear of the loss."

"I was very much astonished, and very wretched when I heard it. I can't take the loss of all that money as quietly as you seem to do, Brenda. And not only mine has gone, but Wilfred's too. Forty thousand pounds, and all his own fortune! Great Scot! the man must have played day and night to get rid of it. What folly for my father to leave it so completely in his power. If there had only been another trustee to pull him up. I don't want to speak evil of the dead," cried Harold, wrathfully, "but I could find it in my heart to curse Malet."

"No, don't, Harold. His terrible death was punishment enough. How was it that Mr. van Zwieten came to know of this?"

"I can't say. He refused to tell me. But he did know, and he tried to make me give you up on that account. Of course I told him--well, never mind what I said--it was strong and to the point. Brenda, we have a dangerous enemy in Van Zwieten."

"I always knew we had. And now that this crime has been committed he is more dangerous than ever."

"How do you know that?" Harold looked anxiously at her.

"He threatened me the other day."

"Threatened you!--the hound! What did he say?"

"He told me, if I did not give you up and marry him, he would get my father into trouble over Mr. Malet's murder."

"Does he suspect your father?"

"Yes, and no. He insists that father was cognizant of the murder, but I think he puts the actual deed down to the man with the crape scarf."

"That may be true. Remember what I found!"

"I remember. I also made a discovery," and Brenda told him how she had found the crape scarf burning in the grate of her father's study at Chippingholt, how her father had asserted that he was the man seen by Harold, and many other things. Indeed, she told him all she knew, including her conversations with Lady Jenny, with Wilfred, with Van Zwieten and with her father. Chin in hand, Harold listened attentively, putting in a word now and then. When she had finished, he looked utterly perplexed.

"It's all such a muddle I can't get at the rights of it," he said. "No one will speak out straight, and every one seems to have something to hide. Bad as Van Zwieten is, I don't believe he killed Malet. I don't see what motive he could have had."

"Unless, as Wilfred says, it were for political reasons."

"Oh, Wilfred's crazy about politics," replied Harold, testily. "He thinks of nothing else. It is a perfect mania with him. But Van Zwieten would not be such a fool as to risk his neck because Malet took up the cudgels against the Boers. No, Van Zwieten is innocent enough."

"What about Lady Jenny?"

Captain Burton changed color, and commenced to pace up and down the room. "She wouldn't have done it. She is half an Italian, I know, and fearfully passionate, but I think she'd stop short of that. Besides, although she is a jolly good shot, I doubt very much if she could hit a man in the dark like that so square as to kill him outright."

"But remember, Harold, the shot was fired at close quarters."

"I don't believe she'd have had the nerve for that. Of course it's quite possible she may be guilty, but there's not a scrap of evidence against her as far as I can see."

"What about the crape? Lady Jenny wore crape!"

"That doesn't prove that this scrap was torn from her dress. The crape trimmings on that would lie close to the dress; it wouldn't be so easy for a man to make a clutch at them and tear a piece off as at a scarf, with the ends floating freely. My belief is that the morsel of crape was torn from the scarf."

"Well, it was not worn by my father, in spite of what he says."

"No. I dare say that man who left Chippingholt by the late train is the man who fired the shot. But your father knows all about it, Brenda. Otherwise he would not insist that he had worn the scarf, nor would he have burnt it as he did. I think with you that this unknown man is a relative of your father's, and that your father is shielding him to avoid the disgrace of having a criminal in the family."

"Aunt Judy would know him if he is a relative."

"That is very probable; you had better ask her."

"Harold, do you think Van Zwieten knows the truth?"

Captain Burton hesitated. "It would seem so," said he, "but I don't think he is very sure of the truth, or else he would speak out."

"He threatens you, dear."

"I know he does. He threatened me at Chippingholt. Brenda, I don't deny that the man is dangerous, and that he knows more than I like him to know. It is in his power to harm me, and if I marry you he will do his best against me. But that sha'n't stop us, Brenda. We'll get married and defy him."

Miss Scarse signified her full approval of this course of action; but she saw that her lover was keeping something back.

"Harold, what else did Van Zwieten say to you at Chippingholt?"

"Oh, nothing of any consequence," replied her lover, uneasily.

"My dear!" Brenda slipped her arm round his neck and drew him down on the sofa beside her. "If you love me, you must trust me. If you think me a sensible woman, you must be honest with me. I know you had some other reason for leaving Chippingholt so suddenly--it was not altogether because you were afraid of telling me about the loss of your money. Van Zwieten told me he could get you into trouble, and now you say the same thing. Tell me what hold he has over you?"

"He has no hold over me," whispered Harold. But she saw that his forehead was beaded with perspiration.

"Tell me--tell me?" she repeated.

"Brenda--I cannot--I dare not."

"Then there is something?"

Captain Burton cast a glance round the room and nodded. "I am not a coward," he groaned; "I hope I am not a coward, but there are some things which make the bravest man afraid. Van Zwieten is a devil!"

"Does he accuse you of the murder?"

"No, he doesn't go so far as that, and yet--Brenda," he cried, taking her hand and holding it so tightly that she could have screamed, "don't ask me any more; it is not my own secret."

"Has it anything to do with my father?"

"Partly; but you need not be anxious about that. He is in no danger. Leave me to fight it out with Van Zwieten. I shall get the better of him yet. No, no, Brenda, don't ask me any more questions; you cannot help me; I must go through with this matter alone. Trust me if you love me."

"I ask you to do that with me," said Brenda, sadly, "and you refuse."

"I don't refuse. I cannot tell you now; I will tell you when you are my wife. Listen! we must get married quietly."

"Why quietly?"

"Because I am afraid of Van Zwieten. Yes, you may well look astonished. I, who have never known fear before, fear him. He knows too much, and if he plots against me I cannot counterplot him--at all events for the present. We must marry!"

"When and where you please, darling."

"You trust me?"

"Yes, on the understanding that when I am your wife you tell me everything--everything!"

Burton nodded again. "I will tell you before if I can, Brenda. It is good of you, and like your dear self, to trust me. We can be married at St. Chad's, at Brighton. I'll get a special license. Down there we shall be free from interference by Van Zwieten."

"He would not dare----"

"Oh, yes, he would--if he knew. He would take some means of preventing our marriage."

"And you would let him do that?"

"I--I might, and I might not." Captain Burton sighed wearily. "If it were only myself I would not mind, but--but there are others whom I must consider."

"Harold, you are shielding some one!"

"Yes--no. Brenda, dearest, for Heaven's sake don't question me."

She was perplexed by his indecision--annoyed by his reticence. But she had given her promise, and she would abide by it. "You will not let me help you?" she said plaintively.

"You cannot help me, dear; I must go through with this matter alone--unaided."

"But I can help you," she insisted. "Van Zwieten is our enemy. Well, then, Lady Jenny can help me to crush him."

He started nervously. "What are you saying? Lady Jenny can do nothing."

"Indeed she can, Harold. She told me that if Van Zwieten ever proved troublesome I was to see her, and that she would thwart him."

Harold made no reply, but looked more than ever puzzled and perplexed. Then a light broke in upon Brenda.

"Harold! it is Lady Jenny herself you are shielding?"

"I won't--I cannot tell you," he replied desperately. "Brenda, I'll see Lady Jenny myself at once. If she knows anything about Van Zwieten, I may be able to make use of her knowledge. Come, say good-bye."

"When shall I see you again?"

"In three or four days. Promise me, Brenda, you won't see Jenny until I do."

"I promise. But if you fail with her, then I must see her."

"Yes, if I fail, but I won't fail. You have put a weapon into my hand. After I have seen her, I will tell you the whole miserable business. We will get the better of Van Zwieten yet, my darling."

Captain Burton was picking up his spirits. He went away in a more cheerful frame of mind. Brenda felt certain that his refusal to speak was in the interest of Lady Jenny. Could she have fired the shot? But that seemed impossible. If she herself were guilty, how could she silence and thwart Van Zwieten, who appeared to know so much about the crime? What with her father's denials, Harold's silence, and Van Zwieten's threats, Brenda was quite bewildered. What would be the outcome of it all? she wondered.

Having promised Harold not to see Lady Jenny, Miss Scarse cast about in her mind as to who else could assist her in thwarting Van Zwieten. From her father no help could be obtained. He was wholly on the Dutchman's side, and, it would appear, under his thumb. Then she thought of Wilfred and his openly-expressed hatred of Van Zwieten. Could she not make use of that? In the present state of popular feeling a Boer spy would have a bad time if found in London. If Wilfred could discover that Van Zwieten really was on the Secret Service Staff of the Transvaal, he could force the Dutchman to leave England under threat of denouncing him to the authorities.

No sooner had she come to this conclusion than she acted upon it, and wrote a note to Wilfred's London address asking him to call. Having posted it, she returned to the drawing-room to make tea for Aunt Judy, who had just got back from her shopping. The colonel was still absent, so the two ladies settled themselves down to the discussion of chiffons. If there was one thing Mrs. St. Leger was fond of it was dress. As for Brenda, her mind was too much preoccupied with her own troubles to care much for fashions or bargains. But strive as she might to hide her indifference, it did not take her aunt long to see that her interest was assumed. But that she put down to her lover's visit.

"Why didn't he stay to tea?" she asked, putting away her purchases.

"Because he had to get back to Aldershot," replied Brenda, pouring out the tea. "They are very busy down there."

"Oh, Brenda, do you think there will be war? How glad I am that William has retired."

"That is not the speech of a true soldier's wife, Aunt Judy."

"My dear, it's all very well talking," replied Mrs. St. Leger, testily, "but you don't know what war is. I don't mean these little frontier skirmishes, but a real war--that is truly terrible. I remember the Crimea."

"I don't think this will be so bad, auntie. The Transvaal is not Russia."

"All the same I fancy they are better prepared than, we think. William says so. He has heard all kinds of rumors at the club. Well, if it's got to be it's got to be. You will have to lose your Harold for a time, dear."

"In a good hour be it spoken," cried Brenda, hastily, to avert the omen. "Don't say I'll lose him, aunt. Of course he will go to the front; but don't speak of losing him."

"Well, you never know, my dear. Oh, Brenda, I do wish your father were not going to speak at this mass meeting. There is sure to be trouble."

"I don't think he'll mind that," said the girl. "My father and those who think with him are doing all they can to bring about the war by confirming Kruger in his obstinacy."

"Stuart always was wrong-headed and obstinate," sighed Mrs. St. Leger. "I'm sure I tremble when he comes here. William and he do nothing but wrangle."

"Aunt Judy," said Brenda, thinking the present a good opportunity, "do you know I am deplorably ignorant about my family?"

"Ignorant, my dear? how do you mean? Your mother, I know, was a sweet woman, and died all too young. If she had only lived Stuart might have been very different."

"I was thinking more of my father, aunt. Is he your only brother?"

Mrs. St. Leger almost dropped her cup. She looked scared and her face blanched. "Why do you ask me that, Brenda?" she asked in a faltering voice.

"Because I have seen a man so like my father as to make me think he must be some relative--possibly a brother."

"Where did you see him?"

"At Chippingholt. Aunt Judy, tell me, who is he?"

Mrs. St. Leger recovered herself. "My dear Brenda, how should I know who the man is? You have been misled probably by a chance resemblance."

"The resemblance was too strongly marked to be mere chance. And my father--" Brenda checked herself. "Auntie, surely you can answer a simple question?"

"What is it you want to know?" asked the old lady, nervously.

"Have you two brothers?"

"No. Your father is my only brother," said Mrs. St. Leger, but by the way in which she said it Brenda knew that she spoke falsely.