‘Yes; it could not possibly be anything that you gave the poor dog that did him harm, dearie,’ said Aunt Dora, kissing him and laying a soft handkerchief steeped in eau de Cologne on his brow. ‘They found a piece of strange-looking cake in his kennel which had evidently been put there by some strangers, and we expect there was poison in it. The police inspector is going to take it to a chemist and have it analysed. So don’t think about it any more, but lie still and try to have a little sleep, for I must go back to Isobel, and I hear your uncle calling for Mary downstairs.’
Mary gave a little gasp. She knew that the summons meant that she must go down and be questioned as to her movements yesterday, by the detective who had arrived just as she was carrying Vivian to his room. She had heard that in London the policemen and lawyers were so clever that they asked questions until they made people say the exact opposite to what they meant, and the prospect was very alarming to her simple country mind.
Her mistress saw her anxiety, and reassured her kindly.
‘Just tell the plain truth, Mary; tell him where you were, and what you did all yesterday; and remember no one here suspects you, but detectives always like to question every one in the house before they do anything else.’
Then they went outside, closing the door behind them, and Vivian was left to his own thoughts.
He saw the whole thing clearly now. The man with the green patch over his eye had evidently been prowling about, spying how the land lay, and seeing how he could best reach Monarch’s kennel and give the poor dog the poisonous cakes. When Vivian appeared he had hidden himself in the summer-house, in the hope of not being seen; and, while he was there, Vivian’s own foolishness in taking out the pistol and firing the fatal shot that shattered the windows had put him completely in his power; and the threats of exposure, and the cleverly contrived cock-and-bull story, which the little boy had believed implicitly, about the lame daughter at home and her fondness for puppies, had insured the cakes being given at the right moment.
He ground his teeth as he realised how completely he had been duped and made a fool of, and for a moment he almost wished that the detective downstairs would begin to question him, and draw out the whole story. But he knew that there was little chance of that. If the confession came, it must come from himself alone; and he turned his face on the pillow with a sob as he thought what a web of deceit, and lies, and wrongdoing he had woven round himself, for to confess to having seen the man, and to having slipped out in the darkness and given Monarch the cakes, would lead to awkward questions about the broken window, and to confess to having broken that would lead to the whole story of the pistol and its concealment.
No, he had not courage to face it all; he must go on living with the weight of these black sins on his conscience; and as he tossed restlessly up and down he wondered to himself if this was the way in which thieves and other wicked people began their lives of crime, and if he would go on getting worse and worse, until at last he became quite a wicked man who did not care what he did, and in due time would break his mother’s heart.
Presently Ronald came into the room, looking grave and anxious.