After that I cared very little if the mystery were solved or not.
[CHAPTER XIV.]
THE UNFORESEEN HAPPENS
So here I had reached the goal of my desires in a surprisingly short space of time. Truly the gods had been good to me, and in the most unexpected manner I had won the love of the sweetest woman in the world. And the mysterious murder of Anne Caldershaw--gruesome as it may seem--had been the main circumstance to bring about my triumph. But for the crime I should not have seen the portrait of my beloved, and but for her innocent connection with the same--whereby I was enabled to prove my honesty and good faith--I should never have gained her confidence. But to trust me she had to study my character closely, and having done so, had unconsciously fallen in love. When I offered to come forward as her champion my conquest was complete, and therefore Gertrude yielded. Truly an odd wooing.
For the next two or three days we were completely happy. Mr. Monk, having departed, could no longer interrupt us at inauspicious moments, so we had all the golden hours to ourselves. Also the weather unexpectedly changed from autumnal greyness to a springlike delicacy of sunshine in a blue sky. It was more like May than the end of September, and the singing of the birds was echoed by our joyful hearts. We scarcely said a word about the Mootley crime, as we had tacitly agreed to abandon any search for the criminal. And indeed there remained no clue to lead to the discovery of the assassin. At times I had doubts about the mysterious person whose name Gertrude had so steadily refused to tell me. I felt sure that she was shielding someone, and could not think of any reason strong enough to make her do so. But I put the doubt from me when she smiled into my eyes and surrendered myself entirely to the happiness of the magic hour.
Whether Miss Destiny guessed the truth I cannot say. She never came near The Lodge, as she only haunted it when Mr. Monk appeared on the scene, and then merely for the sake of getting what she could out of him. But as Lucinda was always shopping in the village, and the dwellers in Burwain were born gossips, Miss Destiny must have heard that her niece was receiving me at all hours and in all places. Knowing my infatuation, she would put two and two together, and the resultant four would prove to her suspicious mind that we had come to an understanding. But if she did arrive at this knowledge she made no sign. Perhaps she was content to wait events so long as her half of the fifty thousand pounds was safe. At all events she lay snug in the jungle which surrounded her tin hovel, like the malignant fairy she was.
But the golden days came to an end, as golden days will, since an everlasting Paradise is impossible on earth. I was forced to keep my promise to Cannington and seek London, else he would certainly have put in an inopportune appearance. Of course in spite of his title and looks, and the possible support of Mr. Walter Monk--always supposing the two met--he could do nothing now, as Gertrude had solemnly promised to be my wife. All the same I did not want Cannington to come stumbling into Love's garden. Later on, when the first ecstasy of delight had passed away, I promised myself that he should be formally presented to my newly-captured Diana. But at the moment a duet was better than a trio, so I explained matters to Gertrude and put the Rippler in order for a spin to London.
"But you won't remain long away, dear?" she asked me. "Promise me, promise me."
I did promise her, with many a kiss, on the bare road between Burwain and Tarhaven. So far I had taken her in my car, and now it was necessary that she should return. Only the birds and sheep, the sailing clouds and the all-beholding sun, saw our embrace, so we gave ourselves up fully to the delight. The parting indeed was "sweet sorrow," as Shakespeare says, and only at the golden moment did I fully understand the feelings of Romeo.
The day was balmy and sunny, the roads were dry, and the Rippler was on her best behavior, so the journey to London was extremely pleasant. I reached my West Kensington flat early in the afternoon. As I had telegraphed the probable time of my arrival to the caretaker's wife, who usually looked after my rooms, I found everything in good order. There was a brisk fire, a good meal, and a warm bath awaiting me, so I spent the next hour very pleasantly. Cannington had already been informed that I would call at Lady Denham's Grosvenor Square house about five o'clock, therefore I had ample time to get ready for the visit.