There was a ring at the bell, and the "cook-general" entered with a card held between a floury thumb and a b.u.t.tery forefinger.
Miriam looked at the card.
"Mr. Maxwell." She did not know the name. She wondered who it could be.
Probably some friend of Gerald"s.
"Show Mr. Maxwell in, Jane."
A tall man in a frock-coat, with a flower in his b.u.t.ton-hole, and the most shiny of silk hats in his hand, stood in the door. She stepped forward to meet him, and recoiled, pale to the lips.
"Jabez!" she gasped. "You here!"
CHAPTER II.
JABEZ REDIVIVUS.
It was Jabez. The prodigal had returned, though by no means in the rags of his Biblical prototype. Rather was he like the rich man in the parable--clothed in purple and fine linen. In modern parlance there was about him the look of a man with a balance at his bank. A vastly different person from the scarecrow who had met Miriam under the wall of Lesser Thorpe church.
"Jabez," she repeated--her voice was hoa.r.s.e and low--"what are you doing here?"
"Not much yet; thought I just drop in and look you up, dear," replied the man, tossing his hat and gloves on to the sofa and making himself comfortable. "You don"t seem overjoyed to see me though."
"No, I am not. Can you expect me to be? I thought you had pa.s.sed out of my life for ever. How did you find me out here?"
"Shorty! There you have it. I looked in at the old shop where Mother M.
still hangs out, and sure enough there the rascal was."
"And how did Shorty know?"
"Ah, that"s more than I can tell you. You"d better ask him if you"re curious on the point. For some reason of his own--and you may bet your bottom dollar it"s a good one--he seems to have been keeping his wicked eye on you and your husband ever since you joined forces. It was Shorty told me you were married." He looked round the little room with a sneer which well became his Mephistophelian countenance. "But I say, Miriam, I should have thought you might have done a bit better than this! West Kensington, and cheap at that, isn"t it?"
"I must ask you if you have anything of importance to say, Jabez, to say it and go. My husband will be home directly. He must not find you here."
"And why not, pray? You can introduce me as your old friend, Harry Maxwell--that"s my name now. Thank the Lord Jabez is dead and buried for ever."
"You think so?" said Miriam, with a searching look and dropping her voice. "I should not advise you to be too sure about that. There is always the possibility of his being dug up, and then all the fine clothes in the world won"t disguise him."
The man drew his hand across his throat with a significant expression.
"Not much fear of that," he replied, "especially with this beard. I flatter myself it"s rather a neat growth." He stroked his chin complacently.
She pointed to his high bald forehead, on which was scarred a purple cicatrice--evidently the result of some terrible blow.
"That alone is always enough to betray you," she said in a whisper.
"Jabez, it was sheer madness for you to return to this country. Remember Mother Mandarin knows everything."
"Oh, the old girl"s right enough. I always take jolly good care to keep her in good tune. Besides, if it comes to that, I know enough about her to make it pretty hot for her. But you don"t ask me what I"ve been doing, Miriam--I should have thought you"d have taken a bit of interest in a chap, especially when he"s done as well as I have. The Cape"s treated me pretty well all round, and I"ve come home with a tidy sum, I can tell you."
"Honestly, Jabez?"
"Rather--led a dog"s life though to get it. I went shares in a claim with a pal. We struck gold, and struck it pretty rich, in no time--in fact, my luck changed as soon as ever I turned my back on this old country. I left my pal out there to look after our little patch; he"s a good sort, and I shall be off out again to join him in a couple of months. Perhaps it is a bit risky my knocking about in a free and easy way like this; but to tell you the truth, Miriam, I got such a twist on me for the old place, that I had to pack up my traps and come just for a mouch round. I"m not really afraid. That old affair of mine is pretty stale now--shouldn"t wonder even if they"d forgotten all about it by this time."
"_That_ business--perhaps, Jabez, though I don"t think so. But they are after you for another now!"
The man stopped twisting his red moustache, and stared at her in genuine consternation.
"What do you mean? What other? There"s no other that I know of! "Pon my soul, Miriam, I don"t know what you"re talking about."
"Mr. Barton was strangled in his house at Lesser Thorpe the night after I met you by the church and gave you twenty pounds!"
"Yes; I heard that. It was in the papers a few days after. But what has that to do with me?"
"Can"t you guess?" cried Miriam vehemently. "They suspect you of the murder!"
He jumped from the sofa, and looked round wildly.
"Is--is my--do they know my name?" he asked harshly.
"No; that is, they know your first name, not your other. They think it"s "Tracey"--Jabez Tracey. I told them so."
"Go on; what description have they?"
"Small and dark, in fact in every respect the opposite of what you are.
About to leave, I said, for New York, _via_ Liverpool. Oh, Jabez, you don"t know how hard it was to do it, but I did it to screen you--to keep you safe!"
"How on earth did you get at them?--how did they come to suspect me?"
"We were followed, and our conversation overheard that night in the churchyard. I knew it was dangerous, Jabez, I told you so. Mrs. Darrow hated me. It was she who did it. She listened to everything hidden away somewhere. She taxed me to my face with being implicated in the murder of Mr. Barton and the theft of his will. So I thought it best to go straight to Inspector Prince at Southampton, and put the whole thing before him. I told him how I had met you, and even what you had said--that you would kill Mr. Barton if he interfered with you. I knew _she_ would make capital out of that. But I made it quite clear to him that you had had no provocation from Mr. Barton, and of course from the description I gave of you I knew they were not very likely to find you."
"You don"t believe I killed him, Miriam?"
"No, dear, I never did. But that woman heard you say you would."
"Yes; if he had interfered with me I believe I would, but he didn"t. I never thought any more about him till I saw the account of the affair in the papers."
"You did go back to London, then?"
"Yes; you got the letter I wrote you from the Docks?"
"I did; but a day or two afterwards I saw you on the platform at Southampton Station. Don"t deny it, Jabez; I know it was you!"
"Why should I deny it? As a matter of fact, I missed the boat I intended working my way out in. She swung out on the early morning tide, after they had told me she wouldn"t be leaving till the evening. So I got back to Southampton as sharp as I could, and booked a steerage berth on one of the Union boats. But about the murder of that old man, Miriam, I swear to you I know absolutely nothing."
"I believe you, Jabez. Nevertheless, in the face of the evidence, and your--your past history, it might go badly with you for all that if they were to catch you. Oh dear, I am perfectly terrified when I think of it!