Miss Arnott's Marriage
- -
- 100%
- +
It was at that moment she was seen by Hugh Morice and Jim Baker, both of whom took her for Miss Arnott. Instantly realising what it was that she had done she fled panic-stricken into the woods with-presently-Hugh Morice dashing wildly after her. Miss Arnott saw Hugh Morice, and him only, and drew her own erroneous conclusions.
Mrs Plummer gained entrance to the house by climbing through a tall casement window, which chanced to have been left unfastened, and which opened into a passage near the foot of the service staircase. Afterwards, fast asleep, she frequently got in and out of the house through that same window. Unknown to her the discreet Mr Day saw her entry. She had still very far from regained full control of her sober senses. So soon as she was in, seized, apparently, by a sudden recollection, she exclaimed, turning again to the casement, "The knife! the knife! I've left the knife!"
Mr Day, who had no particular affection for the lady, heard the words, saw the condition she was in, and decided, there and then, that she had recently been involved in some extremely singular business. Until, shortly afterwards, he admitted her himself, he was inclined to fear that she had killed his young mistress.
The impression Mrs Plummer had made upon his mind never left him. Spying on her at moments when she little suspected espionage, his doubts gained force as time went on, until they amounted to conviction. When the body was found in the spinney, although he had little evidence to go upon, he had, personally, no doubt as to who was the guilty party. It was because he was divided between the knowledge that it was his duty to tell all he knew and his feelings that it would be derogatory to his dignity and repellent to his most cherished instincts to be mixed up with anything which had to do with the police, that he was desirous of quitting Miss Arnott's service ere he was dragged, willy-nilly, into an uncomfortably prominent position in a most unpleasant affair.
Nothing which afterwards transpired caused him at any time, to doubt, that, whenever he chose, he could lay his hand upon the criminal. He alone, of all the persons in the drama, had an inkling of the truth.
CHAPTER XXXVIII
MISS ARNOTT'S MARRIAGE
The charge against Jim Baker was withdrawn at the earliest possible moment. Hugh Morice was released that night from the confinement which he had himself invited. When Mr Nunn asked what had made him accuse himself of a crime of which he was altogether innocent he laughed.
"Since you yourself were about to charge one innocent person, you should be the last person in the world to object to my charging another."
The next day he went to Exham Park. There he saw its mistress. By degrees the whole tale was told. It took a long time in the telling. Part of it was told in the house, and then, as it still seemed unfinished, he went out with her upon her motor car. The rest of it was told upon the way.
"It seems," she pointed out, "that, as the wretch married that poor woman before he ever saw me, I never was his wife at all. I don't know if it's better that way or worse."
"Better."
"I'm not so sure."
"I am. Because, when you become my wife-"
She put the car on to the fourth speed. There was a long, straight, level road and not a soul in sight. They moved!
"You'll get into trouble if you don't look out."
"I'm not afraid."
"I was about to remark that when you become my wife-"
"I wish you wouldn't talk to me when we're going at this rate. You know it's dangerous."
"Get down on to the first speed at once." She did slow a trifle, which enabled him to speak without unduly imperilling their safety. "I was saying that when you become my wife I shall marry you as Miss Arnott-Violet Arnott, spinster. That will be your precise description. I prefer it that way, if you don't mind."
Whether she minded or not that was what he did. No one thereabouts had the dimmest notion what was her actual relation to the man who had met the fate which, after all, was not wholly undeserved. So that the great and glorious festival, which will not be forgotten in that countryside for many a day, is always spoken of by everyone who partook of the bride and bridegroom's splendid hospitality as "Miss Arnott's marriage."
It was indeed one of those marriages of which we may assuredly affirm, that those whom God hath joined no man shall put asunder.
THE END