Dead Man's Love

by Tom Gallon

In sheer blind terror at what was in her own thoughts she clung to me, weeping hysterically, and for my own part I was more shaken than I dared to say. For that thought had been in my mind, too; and now instantly I recalled what I had heard behind the screen in the study the night before. But I would not let her see that I agreed with her; I did my best to laugh her out of that mood, and to get her into a more cheerful one.

In part, at least, I succeeded; I assured her over and over again that no harm should come to her while I was near. Yet even as I said it I realised my own helplessness, and how difficult a task I had to fight against those who were her enemies. For I was convinced that the woman Leach was, if anything, the greater enemy of the two, by reason of that mad jealousy to which she had already given expression.

In the strangest way it was Martha Leach who precipitated matters that night, as I shall endeavour to explain, in the order of the strange events as they happened. In the first place, you are to know that Harvey Scoffold, having doubtless been duly warned, put in an appearance that night, resplendent in evening dress, while the doctor did equal honour to the occasion. I had a tweed suit which the doctor had procured for me; and glad enough I had been, I can assure you, to discard the garments of the dead man. I thought but little of my dress, however, that night, so intent was I upon watching what was taking place at the table.

Harvey Scoffold took a great quantity of champagne, and the doctor appeared to do so also; in reality, however, I saw that he drank very little. He pressed wine upon Debora again and again, and Martha Leach, who stood behind his chair, was constantly at the girl's elbow with a freshly-opened bottle. Debora did no more than sip the wine, however, despite the doctor's entreaties. In a lull in the conversation, while the servants were out of the room and only Martha Leach was present behind the doctor's chair, I distinctly saw him noiselessly snap his fingers, and whisper something to her, and glance towards the girl. It was as though there was a secret understanding between the man and the woman.

Then it was that I came to my resolution; then it was that, to the astonishment of everyone, I began to get noisy. I had all my wits about me, for I had drunk but little, and my head was clear; but at my end of the table it was impossible for them to tell how much I had really taken. I made a pretence of staggering to my feet and proposing a toast, only to be pushed down into my seat again by Harvey Scoffold.

"Be careful," he whispered, with a laugh. "You're not used to this sort of drink; you've taken too much already."

I staggered to my feet again, demanding to know what he meant by it, and asserting my ability, drunkenly, to carry as much as any gentleman. I saw Debora, with a distressed face, rise from the table and go, and desperately enough I longed to be able to explain to her what I was doing.

I insisted, with threats, upon having more wine, until at last the doctor and Scoffold got up and made their way upstairs. There, in the study, Scoffold said that he had a walk before him, and must be going.

"Well, we'll have Debora in, and you shall wish her many happy returns of the day once more before you go," said the doctor, as he rang the bell. "John looks as if he were asleep."

I was not asleep by any means; but I was sunk all of a heap in an arm-chair, snoring, and with my eyes apparently shut. It did not escape me that, on the ringing of that bell, Martha Leach appeared at once, with a bottle and glasses on a tray; and once again I saw that meaning glance flash from her to the doctor, and back again.