"I can tramp with the children to Leegarth and there a friend of mine can put me up for the night. I have this sovereign the young gentleman has given me, and to-morrow I take the train back to my mother."
"I think you are wise, Mrs. Geary," called back Gerald, and began his return journey to Silbury, leaving the negro and his wife to settle their private affairs as they best could. But he felt certain that Mrs. Geary meant what she said, and would leave the Devon Maid at once. She feared, now that she was more sober, and Gerald was gone, lest she should again succumb to the tyranny of the negro.
The next morning Gerald received a letter from Tod, saying that he was going with Arnold to Belldown, a village on the hither side of Leegarth, and some ten miles distant. Haskins wondered why his friend and the tutor should go to such a secluded place. Probably Tod had found some evidence which took him there, for examination of the same. But his letter was most unsatisfactory, as he gave no hint of what Arnold had explained. Gerald felt somewhat in the dark. However, it was useless to conjecture. When Macandrew had done what he wanted to do at Belldown--whatever that might be--he would come to Silbury with Mr. Arnold and explain himself. Meanwhile Gerald possessed his soul in patience, and wished that Rebb would come down to the Pixy's House.
When he descended to breakfast, and Mrs. Jennings entered with her budget of gossip, he learned that Major Rebb had driven through Silbury early that morning on his way to Leegarth. "He came down by the night train I hear, sir," said Mrs. Jennings.
Haskins was very well satisfied, as this arrival provided him with work for the day. Apparently Rebb had seen Mrs. Crosbie on the previous day, and had learned what took place from the widow, or her mother. And it was possible that he had come to the Frederick Street chambers to ask Haskins what he meant by meddling with the case. There he would learn that the marplot--as he regarded Haskins--had gone on to Devonshire, and so had come down post-haste by the next train he could catch. All this argued a guilty conscience, and Gerald took his way to Leegarth later in the morning to have it out with his enemy. It occurred to him that Rebb was guilty after all.
The day was not so hot as the previous one had been, so Haskins walked to Leegarth. He could have obtained a horse, or a bicycle, as on the two former occasions, but preferred to use his legs. The country was very beautiful, and the air most exhilarating, so he enjoyed the journey, and arrived at Leegarth without unduly hurrying himself. When he came in sight of the Pixy's House he felt in his hip pocket to make sure that his revolver was safe. Rebb was a desperate man, and might make an attack after the fashion of Geary; therefore it was as well to be on the safe side. Thus ready for any emergency, he rang the bell at the big gates, which were again closed and bolted. In less time than he expected the gates were thrown open by the mild-faced valet of Rebb whom Haskins had last seen in London.
"My master is expecting you, sir," said the valet, stepping back to permit the visitor to enter, "in fact, sir, he came down here immediately after you for an interview. I have been watching at the gates all the morning."
"How did Major Rebb know that I was in Devonshire?" asked Gerald, and received the expected reply--that Rebb had inquired at his Frederick Street rooms. While following the valet up the narrow path, which wound between saplings and jungly grasses, Gerald looked hard at him, wondering if this man, like Geary, knew of Rebb's affairs. But the mild face of the valet betrayed nothing. He looked like a sheep, and probably was one. Major Rebb did not care for over-clever servants. Probably he had learned a lesson when pensioning off Geary, who knew far too much.
The old place looked very beautiful in the warm golden light, and Gerald caught a glimpse of the lawn whereon Mavis had danced. He sighed to think of what had happened since that wonderful night. A gulf had opened between the girl and the world which could only be bridged by an open confession by Rebb as to the truth of the murder.
But Haskins had very little time to cogitate, for the valet led him swiftly through the archway, and into the house. He preceded the visitor up a shallow staircase, and along a spacious passage on the first floor. On knocking at a door, and being bidden to enter, he introduced Gerald into a large room, with no less than five windows looking out on to the tangled avenue and rough lawns and riotous shrubberies. This was Mavis' apartment--as Gerald had been told, when he came to see Inspector Morgan--and it was luxuriously furnished, so as to be a pleasant prison for the unfortunate girl. Bad as Rebb was, he had done his best to make Mavis' voluntary captivity endurable--that is, it could be called voluntary, since the Major had told her that all English girls were brought up in seclusion, and she had acquiesced.