CHAPTER XXVII

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THE EVIDENCE IN THE CASE.

Lady Gwendolen Brook, darkly handsome, exquisitely ready, even to her hat, to leave Levallion Castle the first possible instant, took the oath with a fastidious wonder as to where the little crowd of servants had kissed the book.

It was quite exciting to be a witness; she felt aggrieved that the jury were all “country frumps,” who might not appreciate the charming picture she was making as she answered a few innocuous questions. Presently she would give a dramatic recital of Levallion’s dreadful, staggering fall as he drank the liqueur his wife had brought him. But the gently spoken coroner suddenly put drama out of her head.

“Did you go to your room when you left the drawing-room last night after dinner?” he said mildly.

Terror caught Lady Gwendolen by the throat. Did the man dare to think it was she who had been to Levallion’s room to poison him?

“No!” she said sharply, angrily. “I went after Lady Levallion, to--to ask if anything was the matter.”

“Why did you think anything was the matter--and how far did you go after her?”

The second question made her ready to say anything to clear herself--from what was not in any one’s mind but her own.

“I went to the head of the stairs outside her room,” she said, “and she shut her door as I got there. I stood a minute in an open doorway, and she ran past me in a cloak and hat--as I thought she would,” flurriedly.

“Why did you think it? And did you come down then? Did any one see what you did, or where you went?”

Lady Gwendolen glanced wildly round the room as if for some one who might prompt her. Jimmy Scarsdale had told her to hold her tongue if she had to go on the stand, but Jimmy had not known this horrid coroner would suspect her. She caught Houghton’s hard blue eyes, and her last remnant of self-control left her.

“No, nobody!” she cried. “But if you think I went to Lord Levallion’s dressing-room, I can show you I didn’t. I went after Lady Levallion for fun, and to see if I could find out what her little game was. She dropped a card--a torn card--at breakfast-time, and I picked it up; and gave it for fun to Levallion. It had on it, ‘I’ll come back to-night. Meet me,’ and I knew there was some lark on, I had almost forgotten it, when Lady Levallion got a note in the drawing-room after dinner. She was standing beside me, and she crumpled it all up in a hurry. She said to herself, quite loud, ‘I’ll have to go,’ and she flew out of the room.”

“All this has nothing to do with your movements, has it?” queried the coroner politely.

“Everything!” She was what Lacy called “utterly rattled” and frightened. “I thought Lady Levallion was going to slip out and meet--a man--and I thought what a huge joke it would be on Levallion, who had suddenly grown so domestic. When Lady Levallion passed me in her outdoor things I ran to the turn of the stairs to see where she went. And I heard Levallion come out of the dining-room and stop her. They fought like cats and dogs, and I dared not go down till they moved. As soon as they did I ran back to the drawing-room. I can tell you every word they said if you like. I never heard him in such a temper. And he had been annoyed all day, ever since I gave him that card.”

Houghton’s head was buzzing like a sawmill. There had been trouble, then, of which he knew nothing. But he could not make it fit with that memory of Lady Levallion’s face as she clung to the dead man. The coroner’s voice steadied him to clear attention.

“Why did you give the card you found to Lord Levallion instead of his wife? And how did you know it was hers?”

“Because I saw her drop it!” she answered the second question first, as women do. “I gave it to Levallion for amusement, to see what he would do. He had grown so very married and dull, and stuck his wife on such a pedestal over us all, that I wanted to give him a jar. He told me with all the air in the world that there was no one like her, and I wanted to see if he meant it. I knew he must have heard every word she said one night in the greenhouse to Captain Gordon about marrying him if Levallion died. Colonel Scarsdale and I saw him----” She stopped. Jimmy would throw her over for this, bag and baggage, and she needed him just now. But the thing was beyond Jimmy’s jurisdiction already.

“Be good enough to say what you mean, clearly. You saw whom?”

“I saw Levallion moving away behind some orange-trees one night in the conservatory. Captain Gordon and Lady Levallion were talking and he was listening. They didn’t know he was there.”

“How do you know he was listening?”

“Because I heard some one behind me where I was sitting and I knew it was not Captain Gordon and Lady Levallion, who were just in front of us. I looked through the flowers and saw Levallion. He must have heard every word they said. We did!”

“Who do you mean by we?”

“Colonel Scarsdale,” crossly. “He heard, too. He can say what he likes, but he did!” for Jimmy would have to back her up now. This man meant to know just why she had taken enough interest in Lady Levallion’s doings to follow her. Otherwise she could not prove by any earthly means that it was not she who had been prowling round Levallion’s dressing-room.

“Colonel Scarsdale will answer for himself,” slowly. “For just a few moments more I must trouble you, Lady Gwendolen. Were you in the conservatory by accident, or a thirst for amusement?”

“Accident--I don’t know,” she stammered. “Lady Levallion and Captain Gordon had left the room where we were dancing, and they were gone for such ages that they kept us waiting for supper. I went partly to get cool, and partly to see if they were there.”

“And stayed to listen to their conversation?”

“I couldn’t get out,” angrily. “You don’t understand! They were on one side of me and Levallion was standing still on the other. I could hear his heart beat and his shirt-front creak. I couldn’t go past either him or his wife.”

“Did what you heard repay you for your forced stay?”

“It was just the tail end of a silly flirtation,” viciously, “if that is what you mean! Rubbish about her having to forget, and not being able to get rid of Levallion to please him. And something about sending Captain Gordon back a ring.”

“Yet you were sufficiently interested to listen.”

Lady Gwendolen shrugged her shoulders.

“It was interesting enough,” she said. “He said that in old times he would have----” She stopped, her very blood seemed to stop in her; her callous heart to turn over with horror. If she told what Gordon said, and it was true, she was putting a rope round his neck. The thought made even Gwendolen Brook sick.

“He would have what?”

“I won’t tell you!” she gasped.

“I am afraid you have no choice,” said the coroner quietly; and the jury whispered together.

“He said in old times”--it was like dragging out every reluctant word--“he would have poisoned Levallion, but now he could only go away. I know he didn’t mean it!” wretchedly; “it was just flirtation.”

“Flirtation is apparently an elastic word,” Doctor Aston said dryly. “Is that all?”

Lady Gwendolen had vices in plenty, but her blood and breeding went against lying. She thought of her oath, of the Bible she had kissed, of--and this went home--how useless it would be to perjure herself when Jimmy Scarsdale might certainly give her away.

“I forget,” she gasped. But the coroner had seen her stop another sentence on her tongue.

“I am very sorry, you naturally hesitate,” he said--and even Houghton was not sure whether he was earnest or sarcastic--“but I must have the whole, if you please.”

“Well, then, he said would she marry him if Levallion died!” defiantly. “It meant nothing. I know a woman who gave a man a note about the same thing. ‘I, so and so, promise that on the death of my husband I will marry you, so and so, within a year.’ But, of course, she won’t do it!”

The jury gasped. They were not smart, but estimable county magnates who were not accustomed to playing with the Ten Commandments.

Lady Gwendolen misunderstood the gasp, and rushed further into the mire.

“Of course I don’t wonder Captain Gordon was excited,” she cried valiantly. “He was Levallion’s heir till his marriage, and the nurse who looked after him while he was ill here told my maid that Lady Levallion had been engaged to Adrian Gordon when she married Levallion! The nurse heard them----”

“I think that is enough hearsay,” said Aston quickly. “You can step down.”

“Cannot I go? Must I stay here?” with a disconcerted glance at the roomful of servants.

“I must ask you to take a chair,” said the coroner absently.

“But you can’t want me any more!” wide-eyed. “You see, surely, that it was only because I wanted to see if Lady Levallion was going out to meet Captain Gordon that I went up-stairs after her.”

“Why did you think she had gone to meet him? He had gone to London.”

“Because the card said, ‘I’ll come back to-night’ and ‘meet me’; it was signed A. G. What else could I think? But it was all silly nonsense. You can’t think any of it had to do with----” But she did not finish the sentence. Vain, heartless, empty-headed woman that she was, Gwendolen Brook saw suddenly what her foolish evidence had done. She had made a fool of herself, had brought Jimmy Scarsdale and herself into a nice mess--and Jimmy would half-kill her. Of the anything but nice mess in which she had involved her hostess she would not think. She began to cry from terror and humiliation.

Monsieur Carrousel moved quietly forward from among the servants, and handed pretty, foolish Lady Gwendolen Brook a chair.

Colonel Scarsdale came in stolidly, and when he saw Gwendolen’s face hidden in her ring-laden hands was stolid no longer.

“She made an ass of herself!” he thought swiftly, and wondered what the devil he was to do.

He pulled at his mustache as the questions began; he had no wish to be mixed up in the thing, but, on the other hand, if Lady Levallion had poisoned her husband--as he honestly thought she had--she could clear herself. Downright lies, too, would be no use if Gwendolen had told all she thought; which was probable, since she would not look at him.

“Will you be good enough to tell us what you heard one evening in the conservatory?” said the coroner, blandly, and Scarsdale made up his mind.

“There were so many evenings in the conservatory,” he said slowly, “I don’t remember any particular one.”

Lady Gwendolen’s hands dropped from her face. Was Jimmy going to fail her?

“On this particular evening you had danced. You went into the conservatory to wait for supper. Did you hear any conversation, or know that any one was there?”

“I heard a couple of people talking. I didn’t listen.”

“How near were they?”

“I couldn’t tell you. It was not very light.”

“Did you, on your oath, recognize the voices?”

“I couldn’t swear to them. One man’s voice is very like another’s when he whispers.”

“Did you know the woman’s voice?”

“I thought at the time it was Lady Levallion, but I supposed she had a right to be in her own conservatory.”

“In fact, you recognized her voice?”

“I may have imagined it.”

“Did you hear what the man said to her?”

“I heard the usual conservatory love-making,” calmly. “I couldn’t repeat any of it.”

“Yet the lady with you heard distinctly!”

“Women have quicker ears,” hastily.

“Did you hear anything said about what might be done if Lord Levallion died?”

“Yes,” said Scarsdale slowly. “But a man in love is no more accountable than one in drink.”

“Did you hear Lady Levallion’s answer?”

“No! She whispered something, if it were she.”

“Was there any one else in the conservatory, to your knowledge?”

“There was some one behind us. I don’t know who it was.”

“Was it Lord Levallion?”

“I couldn’t say,” sensibly, “I certainly did not either see him or hear him speak. I knew there was some one, but it might have been two people for all I know. Levallion was in the picture-gallery with the others when I got back. They were just going down to supper.”

“Was Lady Levallion there?”

“No! She was standing just inside the dining-room door when we went down to supper. She was alone.”

“Is that all you can recall of the evening?”

“I think so. There was nothing to stamp it on my mind. Sir Thomas Annesley’s dog ate some soup and was sick,” insolently. “I saw that at supper.”

“Who gave him the soup?”

“Levallion. No one else took any,” slowly, struck for the first time with the thought that there might have been a reason for Mr. Jacobs’ indisposition.

“Did you, from that evening, see any cause to take an interest in the movements of Lady Levallion and Captain Gordon?”

“I suppose we all laughed a little at Levallion letting them flirt under his nose. But they scarcely spoke to each other in public afterward.”

“In that case, then, it was common talk that he overheard them in the greenhouse?”

“People talk of anything in the country.”

But his half-truths had done more harm than good, except to get him out of any further connection with the distasteful business. A juror whispered something to the coroner; and Sir Thomas Annesley was called.

The boy’s brown face was thin and haggard. He had no thought of where suspicion might go, but he had an honest misery in him because Levallion lay dead upstairs. There was a moment’s diversion as Mr. Jacobs, who came in with him, growled and bristled so fiercely that he had to be removed.

“It’s Carrousel! The dog hates him,” said Sir Thomas angrily, as some one said something about a “vicious brute.” “The dog is as kind as milk.”

“Why does he hate unoffending people, then?” inquired the coroner, who detested dogs.

“Oh! Carrousel was always hanging round where Levallion and my sister could see him, and I suppose Jacobs knew they didn’t like it. I don’t know any other reason.”

Monsieur Carrousel looked unjustly injured.

“Pardon, messieurs!” he cried, “but it never occurred to me until milord said so, that it was forbidden for me to take the air on his estate.”

“You kept on taking it, all the same,” said Tommy angrily. “I believe it was you poisoned my dog, too!”

The coroner hushed him sharply.

“What do you mean about your dog being poisoned?”

“I mean Levallion did not eat his soup one night at supper and gave it to Jacobs,” grimly. “The dog was sick, and I worked over him all night. The vet. said it was prussic acid, and I thought he might have eaten meat poisoned for poachers’ dogs, but I don’t think so now. I think it was the soup that Levallion didn’t taste.”

Carrousel turned livid with fury.

“It was not poisoned in my kitchen, then!” he shouted. “Ask who was in the dining-room before the other guests, first!”

“Another word and you leave the room,” said Aston quietly. “Sir Thomas, are you convinced that poisoned soup was meant for Lord Levallion?”

“Since he was poisoned last night, I am,” grimly. “It was a twenty-to-one chance against his giving it to my dog. Levallion had soup every night.”

“Who do you think poisoned it?” bluntly.

“I don’t know. But I do know that there was a strange woman hanging round outside the house that night, for Levallion and I both saw her. He was angry because she was spying in the greenhouse, and he went there to try and pounce on her. I think he knew who she was.”

“Do you mean she could have got in and put poison in Lord Levallion’s soup? It sounds impossible.”

“Not when you know that they were having a sort of masquerade in the house!” valiantly. “All the women were wearing black masks and had their heads tied up in black rags. Any one might have walked in, for the doors were all open, and all the plates of soup were standing ready on the dining-table because we kept supper waiting. Any one who’d looked in the window enough to know where Levallion sat could have easily doctored his soup.”

“But the servants would hardly have let them?” incredulously.

The butler asked permission to speak, a ray of hope in his face.

“If you please, your honor, Sir Thomas is right,” he said. “After placing the soup on the table I went to announce supper, and sent the other men off to attend to various things, so that, when I got back five minutes after, the room was empty. I didn’t wonder his lordship did not eat his soup, for it was cold and uninviting-looking. Her ladyship waited quite another five minutes for the party at the dining-room door.”

“Her ladyship--Lady Levallion--was in the dining-room when you got back?” evenly.

“No, sir! but outside the door,” respectfully.

But for one long instant Sir Thomas Annesley stood speechless with rage and surprised horror. Would they dare to think it was Ravenel who had done it?

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