Chapter 73
She stared at it in astonishment great as Herbert's, and threw off a volley of surprise in her foreign tongue. But she was a shrewd woman.
Ay, never was there a shrewder than Bianca Varsini. Mr. Sergeant Delves was not a bad hand at ferreting out conclusions; but she would have beaten the sergeant hollow.
"Tenez," cried she, putting up her forefinger in thought, as she gazed at the cloak. "Cyril did this."
"Cyril!"
She nodded her head. "You stood it out to me that you did not come in on Sat.u.r.day evening and go out again between ten and eleven----"
"I did not," interrupted Herbert. "I told you truth, but you would not believe me."
"But this cloak went out. And it was turned the plaid side outwards, and your cap was on, tied down at the ears. Naturally I thought it was you.
It must have been Cyril! Do you comprehend?"
"No, I don't," said Herbert. "How mysteriously you are speaking!"
"It must have been Cyril who robbed Mr. Ashley."
"Mademoiselle!" interrupted Herbert indignantly.
"Ecoutez, mon ami. He was blanched as white as a mouchoir, while your father spoke of it at dinner--did you see that he could not eat? 'You look guilty, Monsieur Cyril,' I said to myself, not really thinking him to be so. But be persuaded it was no other. He must have taken the paper-money--or what you call it--and come home here for your cloak and cap to wear, while he changed it for gold, thinking it would fall on that other one who wears the cloak; that William Hall----I cannot say the name; c'est trop dur pour les levres. It is Cyril, and no other. He has turned afraid now, and has torn the lining out."
Herbert could make no rejoinder at first, partly in dismay, partly in astonishment. "It cannot have been Cyril!" he reiterated.
"I say it is Cyril," persisted the young lady. "I saw him creep up the stairs after dinner, with a candle and your mother's great scissors in his hand. He did not see me. I was in the dark, looking out of my room.
Depend he was going to do it then."
"Then, of all blind idiots, Cyril's the worst!--if he did take the cheque," uttered Herbert. "Should it become known, he is done for; and that for life. And my father helping to fan the flame!"
The governess shrugged her shoulders. "I not like Cyril," she said. "I have never liked him since I came."
"But you will not tell against him!" cried Herbert, in fear.
"No, no, no. Tell against your brother! Why should I? It is no concern of mine. Unless people meddle with me, I not meddle with them. Cyril is safe, for me."
"What on earth am I to do for my cloak to-night?" debated Herbert. "I was going--going where I want it."
"Why you want
"Because it's cold," responded Herbert. "The cloak was warmer than my overcoat is."
"Last night you go out, to-night you go out, to-morrow you go out. It is always so now!"
"I have a lot of perplexing business upon me," answered Herbert. "I have no time to see about it in the day."
Some little time longer he remained talking with her, partially disputing. The Italian, from some cause or other, went into ill-humour and said some provoking things. Herbert, it must be confessed, received them with good temper, and she grew more affable. When he left her, she offered to pick the loose threads out of the cloak, and hem up the bottom.
"You'll lock the door while you do it?" he urged.
"I will take it to my chamber," she said. "No one will molest me there."
Herbert left it with her and went out. Cyril went out. Anthony had already gone out. Mr. Dare remained at home. He and his wife were conversing over the dining-room fire, in the course of the evening, when Joseph came in.
"You are wanted, please, sir," he said to his master.
"Who wants me?" asked Mr. Dare.
"It's Policeman Delves, sir."
"Oh, show him in here," said Mr. Dare. "I hope something will be done in this," he added to his wife. "It may turn out a good slice of luck for me."
Sergeant Delves came in. In point of fact, he had just returned from that interview with the butcher, where he had been accompanied by Mr.
Ashley and William.
"Well, Delves, did you get my note?" asked Mr. Dare.
"Yes, sir, I did," said the sergeant, taking the seat offered him. "It's what I have come up about."
"Do you intend to act upon my advice?"
"Why--no, I think not," replied the sergeant. "Not, at any rate, until I have had a talk with you."
"What will you take?"
"Well, sir, the night's cold. I don't mind a drop of brandy-and-water."
It was brought, and Mr. Dare joined his visitor in partaking of it. He agreed with him that the night was cold. But nothing could Mr. Dare make of him. As often as he turned the conversation on the subject in hand, so often did the sergeant turn it off again. Mrs. Dare grew tired of listening to nothing; and she departed, leaving them together.
Then the manner of Sergeant Delves changed. He drew his chair forward; and bent towards Mr. Dare.
"You have been urging me to go against young Halliburton," he began. "It won't do. Halliburton no more fingered that cheque, or had anything to do with it, than you or I had. Mr. Dare, don't you stir in this matter any further."
"My present intention is to stir it to the bottom," returned Mr. Dare.
"Look here," said the sergeant in an undertone; "I am not obliged to take notice of offences that don't come legally in my way. Many a thing has been done in this town--ay, and is being done now--that I am obliged to wink at; it don't lay right in my duty to take notice of it, so I keep my eyes shut. Now that's just it in this case. So long as the parties concerned, Mr. Ashley, or White, don't put it into my hands officially, I am not obliged to take so-and-so into custody, or to act upon my own suspicions. And I won't do it upon suspicions of my own: I promise it. If I am forced, that's another matter."
"Are you alluding to Halliburton?"
"No. You are on the wrong scent, I say."
"And you think you are on the right one?"
"I could put my finger out this night and lay it on the fox. But I tell you, sir, I don't want to, unless I am compelled. Don't _you_ compel me, Mr. Dare, of all people in the world."
Mr. Dare leaned back in his chair, his thumbs in his waistcoat armholes.
No suspicion of the truth had crossed him, and he could not understand either the sergeant or his manner. The latter rose to depart.
"The other cloak, similar to young Halliburton's, belongs to your son Herbert," he whispered, as he pa.s.sed Mr. Dare. "It was his brother, Cyril, who wore it on Sat.u.r.day night, and who changed the cheque: therefore we may give a guess as to who took the cheque out of Mr.
Ashley's desk. Now you be still over it, sir, for his sake, as I shall be. If I can, I'll call at your office to-morrow, Mr. Dare, and talk further. White must have the money refunded to him, or _he_ won't be still."