CHAPTER XXV WATERLOO

Having finished her business in London, Beatrice returned to Hurstable with Durban. They went back to The Camp, as the girl did not wish to again take up her abode in Convent Grange until her relations with Vivian Paslow were more settled. What Major Ruck meant by his mysterious hints, she could not imagine, but deep in her heart she cherished a hope that everything would yet be made smooth, and that all these troubles which desolated her life would be finally ended by her marriage with the man she loved.

It may seem strange that she should dwell at The Camp along with one who had confessed himself guilty of a terrible crime. But Beatrice, as she had said in London, and repeated frequently afterwards, did not believe Durban to be guilty. In an excess of zeal, and in order to secure her happiness, he professed himself to be the criminal. Had Waterloo and Major Ruck not accused Vivian, the girl felt very certain that Durban would not have accused himself. The man still insisted that he was guilty, and Beatrice still refused to believe him. After much thought she determined to give Vivian a chance of clearing himself, and believed that could he prove his innocence, Durban would not proceed with his self-sacrifice. With this in her mind, she wrote a note to Paslow the day after she arrived at The Camp. Durban was not with her at the time, as he had gone to the station to get the newspapers. It was necessary to see if the Black Patch Gang's quarters had been raided, and if Major Ruck had been arrested; if so, the appointment which the Major had made for the next evening at seven need not be kept.

Paslow, looking anxious and eager, arrived about three in the afternoon, and with him came Dinah. Without giving her brother time to speak, the girl flew at Beatrice and kissed her several times.

"Oh, Beatrice, I have such heaps and heaps to tell you," she gasped, with a flushed face and very bright eyes. "Jerry and I are going to be married in three months."

"That is indeed good news," said Beatrice cordially, and did not seek to stop the flow of Miss Paslow's confidences. After the sordid scoundrels with whom she had been mixed up lately she was more than delighted to be in the company of this homely, honest maiden, and to hear her artless prattle. Vivian cast an inquiring look at Beatrice, as he was anxious to know how she had sped with Lady Watson, and could not understand why she had returned with Durban. But the girl merely smiled to reassure him, although she felt far from smiling, and demanded the news from Dinah. That damsel was only too glad to lead the conversation.

"It's this way," she declared, sitting down, and breathing hard: "Jerry has had his salary raised, and we'll have enough to rent a tweeny house at Fulham, or Bedford Park, or somewhere nice. Jerry is writing a novel, and I'm going to help him. And Mr. Snow has been made a Dean of some place in Wales."

"I am glad to hear that," said Beatrice quickly, for she thought that this preferment would remove Mrs. Snow from the neighbourhood--a thing devoutly to be wished for, since the woman disliked her.

"So am I, because Mr. Snow will get a large salary; and, in spite of Mrs. Snow (who is a cat!), Mr. Snow intends to allow Jerry and me one hundred a year. Vivian (who is a dear!) intends to allow me the same, so what with this and Jerry's salary we'll have about four or five hundred a year to begin life on. I really don't know if I am standing on my head or my heels," cried Dinah, clapping her hands, and with her freckled face aglow with lively joy.

"So you see, Beatrice," said Vivian, with a smile on his dark face, "her happiness and life are settled. She will marry Jerry, and help him to become the Shakespeare of his generation."

"Oh no. Shakespeare only wrote plays!" said Dinah contemptuously. "Or was it Bacon? Jerry is to write novels, like Thackeray or George Eliot--but she was a woman, wasn't she? We'll be so happy; and I intend to furnish the drawing-room in cherry-colour, which always----"

"My dear Dinah," said Vivian impatiently, "can't you leave these minor details to some future occasion?"

"Ah! wait till you and Beatrice consult about the refurnishing of the Grange," said Dinah reprovingly; "then you'll find how important all these things are. Mr. and Mrs. Snow go to Wales in a month, Beatrice, and I shan't be sorry. I want to be miles and miles away from my future mother-in-law. But I must go." Dinah rose in a hurry. "I am on my way to the station to meet Jerry. I only called in to tell you how delicious everything is. Good-bye, good-bye!" and Dinah, kissing Beatrice twice, took herself off rapidly, while Vivian shrugged his shoulders.

"What a whirlwind in petticoats!" said he good-humouredly.

"I am glad she is to be happy with her lover," said Beatrice in a pensive manner. "And I am also glad," she added, looking attentively at Paslow, "to know that Mrs. Snow is leaving the neighbourhood."

"So am I," said Paslow, with a sigh. "That woman hates you, Beatrice."

"She cannot do me any harm," replied the girl, and then looked again at Vivian. She noted with a pang how worn and thin he appeared: noted also that there were white hairs amongst his thick black locks. "My poor boy," she said tenderly, "you have suffered!"

Vivian looked at her in a startled way, and put out his hand as though to keep her off. "Don't," he said hoarsely, "or else I shall forget myself and take you in my arms."

"Vivian"--she touched his arm and he winced, with a flush of colour, at the tenderness--"we may come together after all."

"Beatrice!" he said breathlessly, then dropped the hand which he had seized. "You know who stands between us."

"She may not always stand between us, Vivian."

"What! Is she dead?"

"No. But Major Ruck---- Wait, Vivian; let us sit down and talk. I have much to tell you, dear."

"Yes, yes, Sit here!" Vivian hurriedly led her towards a garden seat near the battered sundial, and fixing his eyes on her tired face, waited impatiently for what she had to say. But Beatrice did not begin at once: she wanted to startle him into telling the truth.

"Major Ruck and Waterloo both accuse you of killing Alpenny," she said bluntly, and looking straightly at him.

Vivian jumped up with a suppressed oath. "What a lie!"

"Tell me," she said quickly--"tell me exactly what you did on that night."

"I have told you. I caught Waterloo and kicked him; then I looked for you, and not finding you, went home. Next morning I called to see how you were getting on, and gave the key of the smaller gate to Durban, who hung it up in the counting-house, as he told you."

"You were not near this place on that night?"

"No. I swear I was not."

Beatrice saw from his earnest, puzzled look that he really spoke the truth. Without wasting further time in skirting round the subject, she related what had taken place at the Black Patch Gang's den in Stepney. Vivian listened with growing surprise, and jumping up, began to walk backwards and forwards, much agitated. When she had finished, he stopped before her with an angry air.

"The whole story is a lie!" he declared decisively. "I certainly caught Waterloo, and kicked him: he certainly threatened me with a very ugly-looking knife; but he got away before I could take it off him. I wish I had found it before I tied his hands."

"You tied his hands?"

"Yes, with my handkerchief."

Beatrice rose suddenly, and caught her lover's arm with so much force that he winced. "What is it?" he asked, puzzled by her look.

"Did--did--Waterloo get away with the handkerchief?"

"Yes. I knocked him down and tied his hands. I was going away, when he got rid of the handkerchief, and ran at me with a knife. I dodged him, and then tried to seize him again; but he showed no more fight, and ran away. He held the handkerchief in one hand and the knife in another."

"Vivian," cried Beatrice, with a pale face, "Waterloo killed Mr. Alpenny!--yes, he killed him, I am certain."

"What do you mean? How can you explain?"

"Listen. I found your handkerchief soaking in the blood of Alpenny, and lying near the body in the counting-house yonder. I thought for the moment that you were guilty. I spoke to Durban, and he told me that you had given him the handkerchief--no, that wasn't it. He said that you had left the handkerchief behind when you quarrelled with Mr. Alpenny, when you last met him."

"I never did. And----"

"Wait, wait. Of course you didn't. To save my feelings Durban told a lie."

"Why didn't you speak to me?"

"I didn't think of doing so; you explained about the key. I forgot, I suppose, with all the troubles that we had. But you can see now: this man, Waterloo, had the knife, he had the handkerchief, and he was a member of the Black Patch Gang. Alpenny, because he betrayed the Gang, was condemned to death, and Waterloo is the man whom Major Ruck called the executioner. He left you to return to The Camp and kill Mr. Alpenny; then he escaped by the secret passage."

Vivian walked about in an excited manner. "By Jupiter! Beatrice, I do believe that you are right. We'll have the little beast arrested."

"I dare say, if the police have raided the Stepney den, that he has already been arrested. Oh, how I wish those papers would come!"

"What papers?"

"The daily newspapers. Durban went to the station to get them, as we expect to read about the raid. And I want to clear your character--so that Durban's life may be saved."

"What do you mean?" asked Vivian, utterly puzzled.

"He accuses himself of the crime to clear you. He knows that I love you, and, thinking your loss would break my heart, intended to answer for you."

"But I have not committed any crime."

"No. But the Major and Waterloo can build up an accusation against you; it will be difficult to disprove, and----"

"It will not be difficult," said Vivian determinedly; "the handkerchief will prove Waterloo's guilt. Does Durban believe that I am the guilty person?"

"I think so, or he would not take the guilt upon himself."

"Then I forgive his doubts of me, because he is so ready to take my supposed crime on his own shoulders. But do you believe me to----"

"Vivian"--she stretched out her hands--"I never have believed you to be guilty. You know that; and now we both know the truth--Waterloo is the criminal."

"And Waterloo will soon be in the hands of the police. Beatrice, I shall go and see the constable at Hurstable. He will send for the Inspector who had charge of the case. We'll tell him everything, and when Major Ruck comes here to-morrow at seven, he can be arrested."

"But he is not guilty?"

"He is an accomplice. Waterloo apparently killed Alpenny by his order--and, indeed, the Major probably was present at the time, since he admits himself to have been the man you saw leaving The Camp. I shall go at once. Wait here, Beatrice; I'll come back with the constable. And meantime, when Durban returns with the papers, you can see if the Gang's den has been raided."

"Yes, yes. Go at once!"

The face of Beatrice was aglow with joy, and she went with her lover to the great gates, which now usually stood wide open. And she had every cause for joy. They now knew that Waterloo was the assassin who had murdered old Alpenny. Vivian was guiltless, and so was Durban, who, to save the tears of his young mistress, had so nobly taken upon himself the burden of shame. When Vivian departed post-haste to see the village constable, and to put all things in train for the capture of Major Ruck and his accomplices, Beatrice walked to and fro much excited.

"Dear Durban, good Durban!" she murmured again and again. "What a friend he has been to me! But there will be no need for this sacrifice. Vivian's character can be cleared, and then----" She hesitated, and wondered again if Major Ruck could fulfil his promise and remove the obstacle to her marriage with Vivian. She could not think of how this could be done, save by the death of Maud Paslow; and yet she did not think that Ruck, villain as he was, would kill a woman. All the same, he had certainly killed Alpenny through the instrumentality of Waterloo. "I must give Major Ruck the necklace in any case," said Beatrice, quite forgetting that when Vivian told the police, Ruck would need no necklace and would be in the dock. She went to her bedroom-carriage and got out the necklace, which flashed bravely in the sun. It was certainly a magnificent ornament, and Beatrice was woman enough to regret parting with it, especially to such a scamp as the Major. However, as she recollected Vivian's errand, it might be that it would not need to be given up. "But then," she thought, "if Major Ruck is arrested, he will certainly not forward my marriage with Vivian, as out of revenge he will hold his tongue."

With the necklace in her hand, she went across to the counting-house carriage in order to make a packet of it and seal it up. The place was chill and dismal in its desolation. Beatrice closed the door and seated herself at the desk, looking about for a sufficiently thick sheet of paper in which to wrap the jewel. Hardly had she found one when she heard a grating noise, and turned her head to see the sheet of galvanised tin, upon which stood the stove, slip aside. The next moment, and she saw the red head of Waterloo protrude from the hole.

"You!" cried Beatrice, starting to her feet, and her blood ran cold when she thought of what the reptile had done.

"Yuss," said Waterloo, who looked haggard and white. "The Major is after me. I cut away from Stepney when the plaice was raided by the perlice. The Major cove got away too, and has been follering me. He come down by the saime train----"

"He is here?" cried Beatrice interrogatively, bending forward.

She had the necklace dangling from her hand, and in bending down it was brought within reach of Waterloo. He snatched at it at once and growled like a dog over a bone. "Yuss," he said hoarsely, while the girl remained paralysed by his sudden move; "he's after this, and me. He's goin' to kill me, becas I set the peelers on to the Gang. But he'll not come by this passage, and I'll slip away. Don't you give the alarm, miss, or I'll cut your throat."

"The same as you did Mr. Alpenny's?"

"Ho! you knows that, does you?" yelped Waterloo. "Yuss, I did; an' I'll kill you if----"

Beatrice ran to the door and opened it. "Help! help!" she cried, not thinking of the mad thing she was doing to provoke this murderer to wrath. There was no help near--The Camp was completely isolated, and unless Durban came back at once, or Vivian returned, she was at the mercy of this wild beast in the lonely place. Waterloo apparently guessed that he could do what he liked, for he made a spring to get out of the passage. As he did so he was pulled back, and gave a yell of alarm.

"Oh lor', who's got me? 'Elp! 'elp! Ah! ow--ow--it's the Major--it's----" Here he was pulled out of sight. Apparently the Major, on the track of the man who had betrayed him, had entered the secret passage also, and was pulling the traitor down into the depths. Beatrice stared at the gaping black hole, and heard sounds of snarling and worrying and swearing and fighting going on in the bowels of the earth. Suddenly she heard the shriek of a man in mortal agony. With an effort she opened wide the counting-house door, anxious only to escape from the horrible place; but as the sunshine streamed on her face, everything seemed to grow black round her, and she fell down in a dead faint.