‘To rid herself of him?’
‘’Od, an’ why not? So long as ye were here wi’ us, sir, what she’d set her mind to have was out of her reach. But, you safe gone, she’d na more stomach for my lord’s Italian butler, bless you—must fly at higher game than that.’
‘Lord Hartover?’
‘And who else? Eh! but she’s a canny one; none of your hot-heads, rushing into a thing afore they’ve fairly planned it. She’d her plan pat enough. Laid her train or ever she struck a match; waited till she kenned it was all over between t’ dear lad and Braithwaite’s lass. Had Marsigli muzzled, seeing that to tell on her was to tell on himself. And others, that should ha’ shown her up, durstn’t do it, lest she opened her mouth and set scandal yelping after them. So she’d a muzzle onto them too, and could afford to laugh t’ whole lot in the face—upstairs as well as down—and follow her own fancy.’
He ruminated, chewing viciously at the straw he carried in his mouth.
‘And, as the talk goes, she’s followed it to a finish,’ he added, ‘and fixed her devil she-kite’s claws in my young lord, poor dear lad, safe enough. Is the talk true, sir?’
I answered, sadly, I feared it was so; but that, as some method might still possibly be found of unfixing those same kite’s claws, I had come in search of any information he could give.
‘Then you mean to put up a fight, sir?’ he said, his jaw hard and his eyes bright. ‘For all your colleging and your black coat, you’re o’ the same kidney as when ye rode t’ little brown horse across the fells and saved t’ pack.’
And therewith he settled down to recount all he had puzzled out, all he believed and thought. Inferential rather than circumstantial, this, alas! for the most part; yet to me valuable, from the man’s caution, honesty, power of close observation, shrewd intelligence and mother-wit. In his opinion the theft had been carried out at Fédore’s instigation, and upon her undertaking to join Marsigli as soon as it was accomplished, and fly with him to his native city of Milan. Having thus involved the Italian—whose long-standing passion for, and jealousy of her, were matters of common knowledge among the servants, Warcop said—she evidently played him false, although covering his escape by putting the police on a wrong scent. Where was he now? In England, Warcop opined, probably hiding in London, still hoping to induce Fédore to redeem her promise. Were the two man and wife? Over that Warcop shook his head. Who could say, save the two themselves? Yet, if they were, there must needs be a record of the marriage, which would have taken place during the period of my tutorship at Hover, at some time when her ladyship was in Grosvenor Square.
Here, at last, I had a definite starting-point. For the church could be found, the clergyman who performed the ceremony could be found, always supposing any such ceremony had really taken place.