But it was not the man who led the girl away. Bella saw the labourer's face, guessed, with a shudder, what he had said, and, catching Cyril's arm, dragged him away from that awful spot. The young fellow, with a blanched face and tottering limbs, stumbled blindly along as she pulled him forward. In all his expectations, he had never counted upon such a terrible dramatic discovery as this. His father, the missing man, the murdered man, who had been hunted for alive and dead for many weeks, had been used by Captain Huxham as a scarecrow to frighten the birds. No wonder they had kept away from those sinister fields.
"Oh, great God!" moaned Cyril, sick and faint, "let this be the end."
CHAPTER XXV
RUN TO EARTH
The quiet village of Marshely, in Essex, was getting to be as well-known through the length and breadth of England as Westminster Abbey. The murder of Captain Huxham had caused a sensation, the death of Durgo and Vand had created another one, but the discovery of the ghastly scarecrow which had warned the birds from the corn-fields of Bleacres, startled everyone greatly. The news flew like wild fire through the village, and in less than an hour the inhabitants were surveying the terrible object.
Shortly the constable of the village who had superseded Dutton—in disgrace for his share in the escape of Mrs. Vand—appeared, and, armed with the authority of the law and assisted by willing hands, removed the poor relic of humanity from the pole whereupon it had hung for so long. The explanation of its being there was easy. Undoubtedly Captain Huxham, after he had committed the crime, and while Tunks and Pence were away, the one through horror and the other through sheer worry, had carried out the dead body to fasten it to the pole. He undressed the straw-stuffed figure, with which everyone was familiar, and having destroyed it arrayed the corpse of Edwin Lister in its military clothes. Then he pulled the tattered grey felt cap well over the face so that it should not be suspected as being that of a human being, and bound the dead to the pole. Of course, no one, not even the Vands, suspected that the figure was other than what it had always been, and it said much for the cruel ingenuity of Captain Jabez Huxham that he had selected so clever a mode of disposing of the body. Had he thrown it into the boundary channel it might have been fished out; had he concealed it in the house, it would probably have been discovered; and had he buried it in the garden near the house, it might have been dug up. But no one ever dreamed that the scarlet-coated scarecrow was the man who was wanted. Huxham had been struck down almost immediately after he had put his scheme into execution, and it was doubtful if he had intended to leave the body there. Probably he did, as it was isolated by the corn, and when the field was reaped he doubtless intended to get rid of the corpse in some equally ingenious way. The removal of the scarecrow would have excited no comment when the fields were reaped, as its career of usefulness would then be at an end. The dead man's clothes still clothed his corpse under the scarecrow's ragged garments.
One result of the discovery was that everyone decided not to buy the corn which had flourished under so terrible a guardian. Far and wide the newspapers spread the report of the discovery, and Timson became aware that a prejudice existed against making bread of the wheat grown on the Bleacres ground. Not wishing to spend more money, since he would have to account for everything he did to Mrs. Vand, he withdrew the labourers. The Solitary Farm now became solitary indeed, for no one would go near it, especially after night-fall. The golden fields of wheat spread round it like a sea, and the ancient house stood up greyly and lonely like a thing accursed. And indeed it was looked upon as damned by the villagers.
An inquest was held, and, going by the evidence of Luke Tunks, it was decided that Edwin Lister came by his end at the hands of Jabez Huxham. Cyril was compelled to attend and give evidence, but said as little as he could, not wishing to make his father's shady career too public. He simply stated that his father was a trader in Nigeria, and being the friend of Durgo, the dispossessed chief of a friendly tribe in the far Hinterland, had come home to see Huxham and get from him certain jewels. Of course he could not suppress the fact that these jewels had been given by Kawal to Maxwell Faith, and had been stolen from the dead body of the man by his murderer, Captain Huxham: nor could he fail to state that Bella was the daughter of Maxwell Faith, since had he not done so the jewels might have been taken from her. But Cyril spoke as clearly and carefully as he could, quite aware of the delicate position he occupied. There was no doubt that Huxham, dreading lest the murder of Faith should be brought home to him, and anxious to retain the jewels which were the price of blood, had murdered Lister; afterwards he had disposed of the body in the ingenious manner explained. But Lister was dead; Huxham was dead; Vand and Durgo were dead, so the papers suggested that there should be an end to the succession of terrible events which made Marshely so notorious.
"And I think this is the last," said Cyril, when he returned to Miss Ankers' cottage from his father's funeral. "Bella, we can't stay here."