The Master of Greylands: A Novel

by Mrs. Henry Wood

"Van Stan has died now in his turn. Big and strong giant though he was to look at, he died in Holland not long after of nothing but a neglected cold. I ought to have told you," added Mr. Castlemaine, "that Teague went up nearly at once to lock the gate of the chapel ruins: and there he saw John Bent pacing about: which made us all the more cautions below to be as silent as might be. It was our custom to lock that gate when cargoes were being run, both to guard against surprise and against anyone coming into the ruins to look out to sea. We had three keys to the gate: Teague kept one; Harry another; Dance a third."

"I wonder you could get three keys made to it without suspicion," spoke George, amid his deeper thoughts.

"We got a fresh lock and its keys from over the water, and had it put on the gate without Greylands being the wiser. That was many a year ago."

"And--you were not present!" remarked George, his bewildered thoughts recurring to the one fatal act of the night, and speaking like a man in a dream.

"No. It was exactly as I have told you. My son was also away that night: he had gone to Newerton. Had he or I been there, I don't know that we could have hindered it: Van Stan gave no more warning of what he was about to do than does a flash of lightning. Poor Anthony's own imprudence was in fault. He no doubt supposed that he had suddenly come upon a nest of lawless wretches; and never thought to connect them in any way with the Castlemaines."

"Teague said that the shot that was heard by John Bent and others proceeded from his gun. That was not true?"

"It was not true. That he had been cleaning his gun that night, was so; for when I reached the Hutt, I found him occupied at it. It was also true that he was going out for a sail next day in his yacht----"

"And were you going with him as they said?"

"No, I was not. But if I am to tell you all, I must proceed in my own way. I went home that night, when the work was over, with Anthony's fate lying heavily upon me. After a perfectly sleepless night I was disturbed in the early morning by the news that my brother Peter was dead; and I started for Stilborough. In the afternoon, when I came back, I found Greylands in a commotion. Miles, my servant man, told me of the disappearance of Anthony, and he alluded indignantly to the rumours connecting me with it. I had to meet these rumours; prudence necessitated it; and I went to the Dolphin Inn, where the people had mostly assembled, taking the Hutt on my way. The Hutt was shut up; Teague was not in yet. On my way onwards I met him, just landed from his boat, and we stayed to exchange opinions. 'Don't let it be known that you were out at all last night, sir,' he said. 'Your man Miles sticks to it that you were not, and so must you.' I should have taken this advice but for one circumstance--in for one lie in for fifty, you know; and lies I was obliged to tell, to turn all scent from the illicit trade. I told Teague that in quitting the Hutt the previous night at half-past eleven, I had seen Tuff in the lane, and he might have recognised me. So my visit to Teague had to be acknowledged and accounted for; it was the safer plan; and in a word or two we settled what the plea should be--that I had gone down to arrange about going for a sail with him the next morning in his yacht. This I spoke of at the Dolphin; but other facts and rumours suggested against me I ignored. It was a terrible time," passionately added Mr. Castlemaine. "I never recall it without pain."

"It must have been," said George in his sympathy.