The Mystery of the Patrician Club

Chapter I

While Jasper Davenport and Mr. Vincent Greybridge were collecting the (to them) unnecessary proofs of Lord Brackelonde's guilt in London, and Richard Clynborough and Mr. Walter Greybridge were elaborating their plans at Stancoombe, Lady Mary and her step-mother had already settled their line of action. The former was acting on the assumption that nothing could avert the crash as foreshadowed by her uncle to her in the interview which had been prolonged to the small hours of that morning. Outwardly, however, there was not the slightest change in the even tenor of the domestic arrange- VOL. II. b ments at Brackelonde Dene, and the apparent calmness of the two women would have deceived the most acute observer, even if he (the observer) had had a suspicion of the fate overhanging the family. Nay, it would have surprised the most initiated, such as the Stancoombe banker and Richard Clynborough themselves.

The semblance of repose was altogether due to Lady Mary's masterly survey of the situation, her indomitable strength of mind, and her prompt decision as to dealing with the successive crises she knew to be impending ; for even before her uncle left her side she felt certain that he had exaggerated nothing ; that, to use Daven port's own words, only a miracle could save her father. In order to make this perfectly clear to her, the banker had been compelled to tell her that part of the story of her mother's life which was connected with James Drayton and the role her father had played. There was no help for it, and the revelation did not materially increase the daughter's contempt for her sire. It only had the effect of removing the broken reed she was still inclined to lean upon at the beginning of the interview, by showing her that her idea of bribing the detectives into procrastination and thus enabling her father to escape was im possible of realization.

" Not all the money you and I possess will buy Davenport's com plicity in such a scheme," the banker had said. " A miracle, and a miracle only, can save your father from a felon's death." The words had practically shut the door upon all further hope in any direction, for Lady Mary was too practical and too rational to expect a miracle in favour of anyone. Though absolutely indifferent to money, she had been heard to say more than once " that the only wonder-working power in our days was hard cash," and that power would be of no avail in this instance. She knew her uncle too well to suspect him for an instant of shrinking from any pecuniary sacrifice, however great, for her sake, if not for his own. Nevertheless, after sitting quite still for a little while, she virtually clutched at a last B straw.

" Uncle," she asked, " am I at all like what my mother was when she was my age ? " " Mentally and morally you are a good deal like her," said the banker, " but phy sically there is little or no likeness." Lady Mary looked disappointed. The banker at once guessed the cause of the disappointment. " The likeness, had it been there, Mary, would have availed nothing," he remarked, " for I suppose you intended to use it as a passport to James Drayton's heart. I doubt whether it would not have defeated its own purpose. Painful as it must be to hear such a thing, you must remember that Drayton had just cause for resentment against your dead mother. She believed, or, what was worse, pretended to believe, the accusation against him. You must dismiss all idea of personal appeal to James Drayton, who, take my word for it, is at this hour no longer the sole arbiter of the situation.

We are virtually handbound, and dare not venture on the least inquiry, or we should find that his visit to Stancoombe was not for the sole purpose of seeing his cousin and me. Depend upon it, your father is already being watched. Our attempt to obtain information on that point would almost amount to circumstantial evidence against him. We cannot stir without arousing suspicion." " I am afraid we cannot," assented the girl. " As it is, I do not know whom to trust and whom to mistrust in this house, and at this moment I am in terror lest Lady Bracke londe should suddenly wake or talk in her sleep. One thing is very certain — something will have to be done before or when the effect of the chloral has worn off, for unless we can give her the assurance that Captain Edmunds bury's life is not in danger she will become delirious, and, strong as I am, I should not be able to manage her by myself.

I feel as if the place were undermined, and that the slightest word from her will bring on the explosion. I am speaking figuratively ; I wish I were not. A literal denouement of the kind would be a welcome relief. Yes, you are right, uncle," she went on, in response to a look of reproach from the banker ; " it's no good making things worse by giving way, but the burden is somewhat heavy for my young shoulders." After that one cry of revolt, she calmly faced the situation. The first thing imposed upon her was to get Lady Brackelonde into a thoroughly calm frame of mind. The difficulty was not so great as Lady Mary had an ticipated. For more than half an hour after she awoke on that morning Lady Bracke londe lay quite still, apparently insensible to anything but the soothing effects of a good night's rest.

The maid had been sent away, and Lady Mary herself was attending to her step-mother's bodily comforts, watching the latter's face as she slowly and noiselessly moved about the room. Gradually she saw the last fumes of the narcotic disappear and the brain resume its functions. The horrible thoughts of the previous day were endeavour ing to reassert their sway. But before they could fairly effect an entrance Lady Mary executed a daring charge on their very centre. " Mama, dear," she said, arranging Lady Brackelonde's pillows while she handed her a cup of tea, " they have found the murderer of that waiter." The cup stopped midway to its destination, and was given back to Lady Mary for a second or so. But there was a sigh of relief, and a smile played on Lady Brackelonde's lips which boded well for the young girl's success.

She, however, felt that she would have to advance very cautiously. " Who is it ? " asked Lady Brackelonde. " The police refuse to publish his name until they have arrested him," said Lady Mary, almost at random ; for though she had laid her general plans, she had been unable to frame answers to questions the shape of which she could not foresee. But she noticed that she had gained one important point, inas much as the few sentences had had the effect of changing Lady Brackelonde's mental atti tude with regard to the drama ; from being an anguish-tossed actress in the same she had suddenly become a mere spectator — a spectator still keenly interested, but a spectator for all that. " I suppose it's in the papers?" "Yes," said Lady Mary, without a moment's hesitation. She felt perfectly safe in her answer, for, young as she was, she knew from experience that a sentence of that kind always finds its way into print whenever the police are utterly at sea with regard to the whereabouts or identity of a great criminal.

Suddenly Lady Brackelonde's countenance fell, a puzzled expression came over the face, and Lady Mary knew that the expression would shape itself into a question difficult to answer. But she stood waiting resolutely. " I cannot make out," said Lady Bracke londe, softly and to herself as it were, "why he should have accused Jack of that murder." Then she paused once more, evidently trying to collect her thoughts. Lady Mary did not move ; she was glad even of the short respite, which enabled her to prepare her answer. At last Lady Brackelonde went on : "I remember he said that lack had been cheating at cards, that Gustave Dubois was his con federate, and that he wanted him out of the way before the Club Committee holds its inquiry. Lady Mary felt desperate. Should she tell her step-mother everything, and risk the shock the terrible revelation would produce ?

For a moment she intently scanned the wan face lying back on the pillow. No, the risk was too great. Then she reverted to the plan she had conceived before the ghastly truth was known to her, to the plan that had presented itself to her on the previous after noon when her uncle had merely invited her to accompany him abroad, and to induce her step-mother to join them. " Mama, dear," she said, drawing near to the bed, and placing her hand on Lady Bracke londe's cheek, " Mama, dear, is it not better that we should put the masks aside we have been wearing for some time, the masks that have not prevented our seeing how unhappy we both are here ? This story of cheating at cards and murder is a mere invention of my father to make us still more wretched. He is cruel at heart, and I for one have made up my mind not only to leave the Dene, but England altogether.

I told my uncle of this a fortnight ago" — Lady Mary invented as she was proceeding — "and asked him to make arrangements to that effect. He says that he himself wants rest, recreation, and change of air, and proposes to winter on the Riviera. We start on Tuesday or Wednesday. That's what he came to tell me yesterday. He is anxious that you should join us. I mentioned his wish to my father before he left for London last night. He said neither yes nor no, but I feel certain he will make no difficulties. So we will go and be at peace. My uncle will be here to-night, and we will give him our answer." Lady Mary stopped to watch the effect of her words. She knew that eventually she would have to think and act for both ; nevertheless she wished to ascertain the impression produced by the proposal.

She was thoroughly aware of the difference in character between her step-mother. and herself. She foresaw that if left to her own devices, Lady Brackelonde would go on suffering sooner than venture upon the slightest step that might be construed by her world — a narrow one, indeed — into the faintest semblance of a scandal. Everyone for miles around knew that the wife of Lord Brackelonde was in many respects worse off than the convict at Portland or Chatham ; yet an attempt on her part to free herself from her bondage, even temporarily, by a journey abroad in the company of her step-daughter would be scouted by county society as a distinct offence against the laws of good breeding, while the husband could have departed for a two or three or four years' trip on his yacht or on a voyage to India without his conduct being so much as questioned.

Lady Brackelonde, charming, refined, educated as she might be, was not sufficiently strong to set at nought the articles of the social creed she had imbibed with the mother's milk, as it were. Lady Mary knew all this. That was the reason why she watched and waited. She had not long to wait ; the answer came as she had foreseen. For a moment a glimmer of contentment came into Lady Brackelonde's eyes, but it faded almost as quickly. " It would be very nice, Mary," she said ; "but I am afraid it's impossible. It would set people talking." Before Lady Mary could advance the argument she held in reserve her step-mother went on : " But, Mary, dear " " Yes, mama." " Isn't this an entire reversal of your own hopes, I will not say plans ? " " I don't understand, mama." Lady Brackelonde took the hand resting on her cheek in hers and drew the young girl's head closer to her breast.

"What becomes of Richard in all this, Mary, to say nothing of your own prospect of happiness ? " she asked. The girl's eyes filled with tears. " I know what becomes of my own," she said, with a weary sigh. " I do not know what becomes of Dick's ; or, rather," correcting herself, " I know but too well. I do not doubt Dick's affection for me, but his moral fear of my father outweighs it, and I cannot wonder at it, seeing that it seems a family complaint. The children shall suffer for the sins of the parents. I shall suffer in one way and per haps he in another, seeing that it is nothing less than a sin to hate a man as the Clyn boroughs hate my father." " Blood is thicker than water after all," thought Lady Mary, after having uttered the last words, for in her inmost heart she felt that the hatred of the Clynboroughs was justified, and still she re sented it.

" But assuredly Dick has never said or hinted as much," protested Lady Bracke londe. " That's true," assented Lady Mary, some what bitterly, in spite of herself, " but I know full well that it is the only thing that has prevented him asking me to be his wife. If I were a man I'd be afraid of no man," she added, drawing herself up proudly. " As it is I am afraid of no man." " Yes, you are very brave, Mary," said Lady Brackelonde, with a faint smile. And " — after a moment's hesitation — " if you are brave enough to face your father with the direct proposal of my accompanying you and Mr. Greybridge abroad, and get his consent, I'll be brave enough for once not to trouble about the comments of the world and go with you." Lady Brackelonde's resolution had the effect of calming her spirits, so that during the remainder of the day she was able to discuss with a degree of equanimity, and even with a certain show of interest, the pre parations for the contemplated journey.

The prospect of putting a long distance between herself and her husband, at any rate for several months, seemed to have lifted a weight from off her mind — a cheerful dis position of which Lady Mary was by no means slow to take advantage by suggesting that in order to avoid as much as possible the comments of surrounding society, Dr. Swanston should he made to declare that a prolonged stay abroad was absolutely necessary to the recovery of Lady Bracke londe's health. Lady Mary undertook to do the necessary spiriting with the physician, a by no means difficult task, as she was well aware. Outwardly as calm as Lady Bracke londe, she was inwardly a prey to intense anxiety. That the blow would inevitably fall she had not the shadow of a doubt. As has been shown already, her uncle's last words had been too categorical to leave her the faintest glimmer of hope in that respect.

The main question for the present was how long the catastrophe would be delayed — she did not even say could, knowing how powerless she was — and whether it would be delayed long enough to get Lady Brackelonde out of England. She kept repeating mentally that her presence could not alter the march of events by a hair's breadth, that whether she went or stayed the best legal talent obtainable would be placed at the disposal of the accused, but that all the legal talent in the world would fail to secure an acquittal, so absolutely certain did she feel that the evidence which was being gathered while she was sitting there would be too overwhelming to leave a loophole of escape. And yet she looked upon her intended departure as an act of the basest cowardice. Neither pity nor affection prompted the reluctance to go.

As she had told her uncle, she would scarcely have hesitated to kill her father ; and she would certainly have eagerly loaded the pistol and handed it to him to blow his brains out. Yet go she must unless she would run the risk of seeing an utterly innocent being turned into a raving lunatic. Mary fostered no illusions with regard to the feeling of Lady Brackelonde for her husband, but she also knew that if Esther's apprehension did not deprive her of her senses, the revelations at the subsequent trial, whether her father stood in the common dock at Newgate or at the bar of the House of Lords, would bring about that terrible result. The line of defence he would adopt was as plain to his daughter as if she had already heard it discussed by the lawyers entrusted with it. Her father would not be content to defend himself — of that she felt sure.

The conviction that he was doomed would not prevent him from attempt ing to blast the reputation of his wife, to besmirch the honourable career of Captain Edmundsbury, by having the whole of the story of the card scandal repeated in court. In a case where his life was at stake his counsel could not very well decline to obey his instructions to the letter, and if one set from motives of professional dignity should decline to lend themselves to such dastardly tactics, another set would be found to pocket that professional dignity together with the enormous fees. She already beheld Lady Brackelonde and Captain Edmundsbury standing in the witness-box with the eyes of so-called " smart society " gloating over them, and those of the whole of England eagerly vol. 11. c devouring the smallest scrap of evidence.

Whatever the outcome of the trial might be, the final issue of the whole, as far as Lady Brackelonde was concerned, admitted of no speculation on Lady Mary's part ; it meant the death of her step-mother or her confine ment in a mad-house. Lady Mary was perhaps unconsciously influenced in her estimate of her step-mother's powers of mental endurance by the self-same considera tions which, according to Miss Caroline Drayton, had prompted Lord Velstrode to oppose might and main a marriage between his eldest daughter and her cousin. If closely and scientifically questioned, the girl would not have been able to point to a single act or word that might be construed into a proof of that incipient insanity from which the Edmunds bury family, and especially the younger members, were suspected to suffer.

And yet she felt that the suspicion was not unfounded, and that the slightest shock, let alone the one she saw impending, would have a fatal and irre trievable result ; and this she was determined to prevent at any cost. There was only one way of doing this, and she was prepared to do it. She would accept her uncle's suggestion. The process of reasoning by which she had arrived at this decision occupied many hours, during which the two women were seated in Lady Brackelonde's boudoir, discussing the preparations for the journey and occupied with some trifling needlework. Mr. Walter Greybridge, on leaving that morning, had expressed his intention of returning towards evening. If anything important occurred meanwhile his niece was to send word immediately. Lady Mary sat anxiously awaiting his coming, though outwardly calm.

All at once Lady Brackelonde, who had been silent for some time, asked, — " Do you intend to write to Dick before you go, Mary ? " The question had struck the very train of thought Lady Mary was pursuing at that moment. ' Yes," she said, " it's better to have a c clear understanding about our respective future positions ; though there is a difficulty about it," she added, with an attempt at a smile. " You cannot very well tell a man who has never asked you to be his that you will not be his wife. It is the story of the milkmaid reversed, for Richard would have the right to say, ' Nobody asked you, miss.' Still, I'll write the letter all the same." "It may settle your respective positions for the future," remarked Lady Brackelonde, in an interested tone ; "but not in the way you expect, Mary.

I fancy that if Richard Clynborough never asked you to be his wife it was because he took it for granted that you understood the meaning of his attentions. Your letter, however carefully worded, will convince him that he was right, but lest there should still be a doubt on your part he will speak out." Lady Mary shook her head. " I do not think he will," she said. " I imagine that, much as he cares for me, he may consider himself well out of it, if not for his own sake, then for that of his family, for there is no denying that both Lord and Lady Clovelly, though they have always treated me with the greatest kindness, would prefer a different connection for their son than that of the daughter of Lord Brackelonde. And Richard, albeit that he is the best of fellows, is largely influenced by his parents, especially by his mother.

Take my word for it, mama, dear, that my father's accusation against Captain Edmundsbury, base, unfounded as it is, was not imparted to you only. And I need hardly tell you what such conduct with regard to his dear godson, whom he loves as his own children, would mean to Lord Clovelly, the soul and impersonation of honour." " There is a great deal of truth in what you say, Mary. But what if, in spite of it all, Richard were to ask you to be his wife ? " " Make your mind easy on that score, mama. The events of the last few days have altered his intention, if ever he had it Lady Mary stopped, noticing, but when too Patrician Club. 22 late, that she had said more than she intended. Lady Brackelonde rose from her chair, a look of apprehension, the look her step-daughter dreaded, coming into her face.

But before she could utter a word a maid opened the door. " Mr. Greybridge and Mr. Richard Clyn borough have just come, my lady," she said. " They wish to know how your ladyship is, and whether Lady Mary could see them at once." >)

Chapter II

Before the maid had ceased speaking Lady Mary stood bolt upright in the middle of the room. As a rule she was not given to show her emotion, but by this time the corners of her mouth twitched and the nostrils quivered visibly, for she instinctively guessed that the arrival of the two men foreboded not only a crisis affecting herself — at that moment she was profoundly indifferent to her own concerns — but a compulsory warning of the impending catastrophe to her step-mother which might be fraught with consequences she shuddered to contemplate. She guessed exactly what had happened. Her uncle, feeling himself powerless to shake her resolution to remain till the bitter end, had in his sore need appealed to Richard, and he, though full well knowing what such a step entailed under the present circumstances, had consented to the sacrifice and came to ask her to be his wife as the only means of hastening her departure.

Her pride abso lutely revolted at the idea. Intensely as she loved Richard, she felt almost inclined to resent his heroism, for in spite of her anger she could not help accounting it as such. She, like Richard, saw the isolation to which a marriage with her would condemn him ; and this magnificent specimen of womanhood, intelligent, tender, and devoted to a degree, shrank from the contemplation of it, not only for him, but, if the truth must be told, for herself. For the moment, though, the picture of the future which she conjured up for herself and Richard was thrown in the shadow by that which she beheld looming threateningly before her of her step-mother's fate in the event of untoward revelations of what was passing, and her apprehension was by no means de creased by the haunted look of Lady Bracke londe just before the maid's entrance.

WThat was she to do ? To meet her uncle and Richard by herself would only make matters worse. Lady Brackelonde's suspicions would become all the stronger. To see the two men in her step-mother's presence was a risk she dared not face. Lady Brackelonde her self came providentially to the rescue. The haunted look had subsided and a faint smile taken its place. " Richard is a noble creature," she said, " and my prophecy has even proved more true than I expected. He did not want your letter to bring him to your side, and probably for ever. I feel sure he has come to ask you to be his wife." Lady Mary eagerly caught the straw unconsciously held out to her. " Perhaps, mama, dear," she said, " though I doubt it. But at any rate I had better see him alone first, and I will send my uncle up to keep you company.

You can settle the further plans of our journey with him." And with out awaiting her step-mother's answer, Lady Mary left the room and went downstairs. Mr. Greybridge and Richard had been shown into the library, a usual thing for the servants to do when Lord Brackelonde was away from home. When the girl entered her visitors were seated opposite one another, silently, and one quick glance at them sufficed to show her that her surmises were correct — that Richard was there at the request of her uncle. The young fellow looked ghastly pale, and as he took her outstretched hand she felt the tremble in his. The girl felt in no mood for empty phrases. She expressed no surprise at his unforeseen call, but turned at once to the banker. " I suppose, uncle, you have brought Richard here to speak to me ?

" she said ; and without waiting for Mr. Greybridge's reply, she went on : " In that case, I'd better fight it out with Richard by myself, unless he is afraid of me ; and, honestly speaking, he looks as if he were." The latter words were spoken with an attempt at cheerfulness, which positively startled both men. But the elder was not his niece's dupe for longer than an instant. "You are a very brave girl, Mary," he said, " but even bravery may be untimely and out of place under such circumstances. The authorities on our English language define it as obduracy, and the coiners of slang as pigheadedness." "I am neither obdurate nor pigheaded, uncle," replied the girl ; " and the proof of it is that I am not only ready to start with you on Tuesday, but that I have prevailed upon Lady Brackelonde to join us.

I wish you would go upstairs to her, while I talk to Richard, and discuss the plans of our journey with her." She had not taken her eyes off Richard's face, and at the last words she watched it still more keenly. If she had dared, she would have taken his pulse in her hand while she spoke them. Her watch fulness had its reward, and a sorry reward it was, according to her, for Mary Stalforth, in spite of her great intelligence, strong will, and noble qualities, was, after all, but very human. She was for ever counselling people to be practical, not be led away by idealism - — " ideology," as the great Napoleon called it — and yet she was not only the first to dis regard utterly the dictates of common sense and to adopt some heroic mode of overcoming a difficulty, but she expected others to follow her example.

She had noticed that at the mention of the journey a faint flush had come into the pale cheeks of Richard Clyn borough and a glimmer of light into the hitherto sad eyes, and she construed the meaning of both in her own way. The construction only strengthened her resolution as to her course of action. "But, Mary, my child," gently protested the banker, " the journey may not be taken after all ; so what will be the use of talking it over with Lady Brackelonde ? " "Not be taken, uncle?" repeated Mary, playing the hypocrite for once, as she knew very well what her uncle meant to convey. " I thought the journey was decided on, subject to my consent. When I virtually give that consent I am told that the journey may after all not be taken. Do you know, uncle, how the authorities on our English language define that kind of thing and the word our slang coiners have for it ?

" " Yes, yes, my dear, I know all that," said Mr. Greybridge, half apologetically, half peevishly; "but many things may have occurred since this morning of which you are not aware as yet. Talk to Richard first, and then we'll see." " I'm willing to talk to Richard as long as he likes, but I fail to see what can have occurred to alter the decision with regard to the journey which was planned in view of the worst that could happen. Unless the worst can be averted we will go, uncle — that is, Lady Brackelonde and I will go. Nor can I see or say what possible alterations can result in our plans from a conversation with Richard ; so please let it be an understood thing that on Tuesday morning we go, with or without you. And now for our conversa tion, Dick," she said in an almost hostile tone, as her uncle rose to leave the room.