The three, two ladies and one gentleman, were seated in the drawing-room of "Moated Hall," enjoying a most interesting conversation. Until Herries fulfilled the conditions of the will, and came forward to claim his inheritance, Mr. Ritson, as the executor, permitted Miss Tedder to dwell in her old home. She had only lately returned from London, in company with Mrs. Mountford, and her jaded looks may be accounted for by the fact that it had been found impossible to upset the will of the late knight. Also there was another reason for Maud's drawn face and lack of colour, but this she did not impart to Mr. Michael Gowrie.
The old reprobate sat comfortably in the most comfortable chair which his eagle eye could have chosen when he entered the room, and he was here with the intention of carrying out the little plot entered into between himself and Kind and Herries. Ritson was also cognisant of the scheme to have Herries arrested after the marriage ceremony, as Kind and Gowrie had called to inform him that Herries was ready to give himself up.
At that interview with the lawyer, a long conversation had taken place, and Ritson had been made acquainted with all that had happened from the time that Angus had set foot in the "Marsh Inn." He could throw no light on the darkness of the case, even after hearing the facts, but approved of Herries surrendering himself to the law, as, until he stood his trial, or at least until he appeared before the magistrate, nothing, in Mr. Ritson's opinion, could be done. He had therefore supplied Gowrie with a trifle of money to procure some new clothes, and pay a proper visit to the disinherited heiress. In the meantime, Herries, still hiding in the caravan, had departed with Kind and Elspeth, chaperoned by Rachel, to a quiet midland town, whereto the details of the crime had not yet penetrated with sufficient publicity to make the name of Herries notorious. Thus all chance of immediate arrest was avoided.
And not only had Ritson, in the interests of his client, the accused man, financed Gowrie, but he had provided the money to procure a special license for the solemnisation of the marriage. It must be confessed that there was some difficulty over the procuring of this latter, or at all events, after it had been procured. The clerk had given the license readily enough, as he never thought that a hunted man would seek to marry. But afterwards it crossed his mind that Angus Herries was wanted by the police in connection with the "Marsh Inn" murder, and he had forthwith informed Scotland Yard. But a description of the man who had procured the license--it was Kind--led to nothing, and as the license was given, it was probable that the marriage would take place. The only thing to do was to keep a look-out throughout England for the church where the ceremony was likely to be performed. Inspector Trent was communicated with, and came up to London to make personal enquiries, but he could learn nothing likely to trace the man who had taken out the license. This was the more difficult, as Kind had disguised himself to procure the same, But the fact remained that Angus Herries, who stood in the shadow of the gallows, was so little impressed by his terrible position that he intended to marry. Trent, who was wanting in imagination, could not understand.
Gowrie had also interviewed Trent at Tarhaven, while Kind was getting the license, and told a very straightforward story. He had been asleep in the tap-room, he said, and had departed at seven in the morning according to his intention, as told to the landlady on the previous night. He had heard nothing, and had seen nothing, and would have come forward before only he had been travelling in the midlands for the last few weeks, and had not seen any paper likely to inform him that he was being asked for. Having told all he knew, that is, all he chose to appear to know, Mr. Gowrie left the Tarhaven police-office stating that he would hold himself at the disposition of the police, and would be found at any time at the "Marsh Inn," where he had again induced Mrs. Narby to take him in. In the face of this plausible story, Inspector Trent, whose intellect was none of the brightest, did not see how he could arrest Gowrie, and the old reprobate won clear of a rather difficult position.
So here he was, in the very citadel of the enemy, arrayed in a brand-new broad-cloth suit, with a new tall hat, and a pair of new black gloves, to say nothing of highly polished boots, looking as neat as a new pin, and enjoying himself immensely; and no wonder, since he was telling lies by the yard. Gowrie should certainly have been a novelist, as he had a most lavish imagination, and should have put into print what he uttered by tongue. At the present moment, in his endeavours to entrap Maud Tedder into parting with five hundred pounds, he was wasting marketable stuff in a most prodigal fashion. At the same time, he was keeping a look-out for Captain Kyles, but as yet that buccaneer had not appeared on the scene. The reason of this non-appearance, Gowrie learned later.
"Aye, young leddy, he'll hang as high as Haman, I doot not. And wit ye say, me'em," this to Mrs. Mountford, "is tae be fund in Deuteronomy or the Beuk o' Leviticus, I no mind the which."
"I am glad to see, sir, that you read your Bible."
"It's bread an' life to me," said the sage, lifting his eyes; that is, he lifted one in appeal to heaven and kept the other on Maud, who was pacing the long room in a state of high excitement. She already saw the fortune within her grasp, and was quite prepared to hang her cousin, so that she might secure her rightful inheritance.
"And then he'll come back,--he'll come back," she murmured aloud.