Miss Linton, after giving her testimony, is borne off to her room in hysterics, while Eleanor Lees is led away weeping.
Then succeeds inquiry as to how the death has been brought about; whether it be a case of suicide or a.s.sa.s.sination? If murder, the motive cannot have been robbery. The jewellery, of grand value, forbids the supposition of this, checking all conjecture. And if suicide, why? That Miss Wynn should have taken her own life--made away with herself--is equally impossible of belief.
Some time is occupied in the investigation of facts, and drawing deductions. Witnesses of all cla.s.ses and kinds thought worth the calling are called and questioned. Everything already known, or rumoured, is gone over again, till at length they arrive at the relations of Captain Ryecroft with the drowned lady. They are brought out in various ways, and by different witnesses; but only a.s.sume a sinister aspect in the eyes of the jury on their hearing the tale of the French _femme de chambre_--strengthened, almost confirmed, by the incident of that ring found on the floor of the summer-house. The finder is not there to tell how; but Miss Linton, Miss Lees, and Mr. Musgrave, vouch for the fact at second hand.
The one most wanted is Vivian Ryecroft himself, and next him the waterman Wingate. Neither has yet made appearance at Llangorren, nor has either been heard of. The policeman sent after the last has returned to report a bootless expedition. No word of the boatman at Chepstow, nor anywhere else down the river. And no wonder there is not, since young Powell and his friends have taken Jack"s boat beyond the river"s mouth--duck-shooting along the sh.o.r.es of the Severn sea--there camping out, and sleeping in places far from towns, or stations of the rural constabulary.
And the first is not yet expected--cannot be. From London, George Shenstone had telegraphed: "Captain Ryecroft gone to Paris, where he (Shenstone) would follow him." There has been no _telegram_ later to know whether the followed has been found. Even if he have, there has not been time for return from the French metropolis.
Just as this conclusion has been reached by the coroner, his jury, the justices, and other gentlemen interested in and a.s.sisting at the investigation inside the hall, to the surprise of those on the sweep without, George Shenstone presents himself in their midst; their excited movement with the murmur of voices proclaiming his advent. Still greater their astonishment when, shortly after--within a few seconds--Captain Ryecroft steps upon the same ground, as though the two had come thither in companionship! And so might it have been believed, but for two hotel hackneys seen drawn up on the drive outside the skirts of the crowd, where they delivered their respective fares, after having brought them separately from the railway station.
Fellow-travellers they have been, but whether friends or not, the people are surprised at the manner of their arrival; or rather, at seeing Captain Ryecroft so present himself. For in the days just past he has been the subject of a horrid suspicion, with the usual guesses and conjectures relating to it and him. Not only has he been freely calumniated, but doubts thrown out that Ryecroft is his real name, and denial of his being an officer of the army, or ever having been; with bold, positive a.s.severation that he is a swindler and adventurer! All that while Gwen Wynn was but missing. Now that her body is found, since its discovery, still harsher have been the terms applied to him; at length to culminate in calling him a murderer!
Instead of voluntarily presenting himself at Llangorren alone, arms and limbs free, they expected to see him--if seen at all--with a policeman by his side, and manacles on his wrists!
Astonished, also, are those within the hall, though in a milder degree, and from different causes. They did not look for the man to be brought before them handcuffed; but no more did they antic.i.p.ate seeing him enter almost simultaneously, and side by side, with George Shenstone; they, not having the hackney carriages in sight, taking it for granted that the two have been travelling together.
However strange or incongruous the companionship, those noting have no time to reflect about it; their attention being called to a scene that, for a while, fixes and engrosses it.
Going wider apart as they approach the table on which lies the body, Shenstone and Ryecroft take opposite sides--coming to a stand, each in his own att.i.tude. From information already imparted to them, they have been prepared to see a corpse, but not such as that! Where is the beautiful woman, by both beloved, fondly, pa.s.sionately? Can it be possible that what they are looking upon is she who once was Gwendoline Wynn!
Whatever their reflections, or whether alike, neither makes them known in words. Instead, both stand speechless, stunned--withered-like, as two strong trees simultaneously scathed by lightning--the bolt which has blasted them lying between!
CHAPTER XLV.
A PLENTIFUL CORRESPONDENCE.
If Captain Ryecroft"s sudden departure from Herefordshire brought suspicion upon him, his reappearance goes far to remove it. For that this is voluntary soon becomes known. The returned policeman has communicated the fact to his fellow-professionals, it is by them further disseminated among the people a.s.sembled outside.
From the same source other information is obtained in favour of the man they have been so rashly and gravely accusing. The time of his starting off, the mode of making his journey, without any attempt to conceal his route of travel or cover his tracks--instead, leaving them so marked that any messenger, even the simplest, might have followed and found him. Only a fool fleeing from justice would have so fled, or one seeking to escape punishment for some trivial offence; but not a man guilty of murder.
Besides, is he not back there--come of his own accord--to confront his accusers, if any there still be? So runs the reasoning throughout the crowd on the carriage sweep.
With the gentlemen inside the house, equally complete is the revolution of sentiment in his favour. For, after the first violent outburst of grief, young Shenstone, in a few whispered words, makes known to them the particulars of his expedition to Boulogne, with that interview in the house of Major Mahon. Himself convinced of his rival"s innocence, he urges his conviction on the others.
But before their eyes is a sight almost confirmatory of it. That look of concentrated anguish in Captain Ryecroft"s eyes cannot be counterfeit. A soldier who sheds tears could not be an a.s.sa.s.sin; and as he stands in bent att.i.tude leaning over the table on which lies the corpse, tears are seen stealing down his cheeks, while his bosom rises and falls in quick, convulsive heaving.
Shenstone is himself very similarly affected, and the bystanders beholding them are convinced that, in whatever way Gwendoline Wynn may have come by her death, the one is innocent of it as the other.
For all, justice requires that the accusations already made, or menaced, against Captain Ryecroft be cleared up. Indeed, he himself demands this, for he is aware of the rumours that have been abroad about him. On this account he is called upon by the coroner to state what he knows concerning the melancholy subject of their inquiry.
But first George Shenstone is examined--as it were by way of skirmish, and to approach, in a manner delicate as possible, the man mainly, though doubtingly accused.
The baronet"s son, beginning with the night of the ball--the fatal night--tells how he danced repeatedly with Miss Wynn; between two sets walked out with her over the lawn, stopped, and stood for some time under a certain tree, where in conversation she made known to him the fact of her being betrothed by showing him the engagement ring. She did not say who gave it, but he surmised it to be Captain Ryecroft--was sure of its being he--even without the evidence of the engraved initials afterwards observed by him inside it.
As it has already been identified by others, he is only asked to state the circ.u.mstances under which he found it. Which he does, telling how he picked it up from the floor of the summer-house; but without alluding to his own motives for being there, or acting as he has throughout.
As he is not questioned about these, why should he? But there are many hearing who guess them--not a few quite comprehending all. George Shenstone"s mad love for Miss Wynn has been no secret, neither his pursuit of her for many long months, however hopeless it might have seemed to the initiated. His melancholy bearing now, which does not escape observation, would of itself tell the tale.
His testimony makes ready the ground for him who is looked upon less in the light of a witness than as one accused, by some once more, and more than ever so. For there are those present who not only were at the ball, but noticed that triangular byplay upon which Shenstone"s tale, without his intending it, has thrown a sinister light. Alongside the story of Clarisse, there seems to have been motive, almost enough for murder. An engagement angrily broken off--an actual quarrel--Gwendoline Wynn never afterwards seen alive! That quarrel, too, by the water"s edge, on a cliff at whose base her body has been found! Strange--altogether improbable--that she should have drowned herself. Far easier to believe that he, her _fiance_, in a moment of mad, headlong pa.s.sion, prompted by fell jealousy, had hurled her over the high bank.
Against this returned current of adverse sentiment, Captain Ryecroft is called upon to give his account, and state all he knows. What he will say is weighted with heavy consequences to himself. It may leave him at liberty to depart from the spot voluntarily, as he came, or be taken from it in custody. But he is yet free, and so left to tell his tale, no one interrupting.
And without circ.u.mlocution he tells it, concealing nought that may be needed for its comprehension--not even his delicate relations to the unfortunate lady. He confesses his love--his proposal of marriage--its acceptance--the bestowal of the ring--his jealousy and its cause--the ebullition of angry words between him and his betrothed--the so-called quarrel--her returning the ring, with the way, and why he did not take it back--because at that painful crisis he neither thought of nor cared for such a trifle. Then parting with, and leaving her within the pavilion, he hastened away to his boat, and was rowed off. But, while pa.s.sing up stream, he again caught sight of her, still standing in the summer-house, apparently leaning upon, and looking over, its bal.u.s.ter rail. His boat moving on, and trees coming between, he no more saw her; but soon after heard a cry--his waterman as well--startling both.
It is a new statement in evidence, which startles those listening to him. He could not comprehend, and cannot explain it; though now knowing it must have been the voice of Gwendoline Wynn--perhaps her last utterance in life.
He had commanded his boatman to hold way, and they dropped back down stream again to get within sight of the summer-house, but then to see it dark, and to all appearance deserted.
Afterwards he proceeded home to his hotel, there to sit up for the remainder of the night, packing and otherwise preparing for his journey--of itself a consequence of the angry parting with his betrothed, and the pledge so slightingly returned.
In the morning he wrote to her, directing the letter to be dropped into the post office; which he knew to have been done before his leaving the hotel for the railway station.
"Has any letter reached Llangorren Court?" inquires the coroner, turning from the witness, and putting the question in a general way. "I mean for Miss Wynn, since the night of that ball?"
The butler present, stepping forward, answers in the affirmative, saying,--
"There are a good many for Miss Gwen since--some almost coming in every post."
Although there is, or was, but one Miss Gwen Wynn at Llangorren, the head servant, as the others, from habit calls her "Miss Gwen," speaking of her as if she were still alive.
"It is your place to look after the letters, I believe?"
"Yes, I attend to that."
"What have you done with those addressed to Miss Wynn?"
"I gave them to Gibbons, Miss Gwen"s lady"s-maid."
"Let Gibbons be called again!" directs the coroner.
The girl is brought in the second time, having been already examined at some length, and, as before, confessing her neglect of duty.
"Mr. Williams," proceeds the examiner, "gave you some letters for your late mistress. What have you done with them?"
"I took them upstairs to Miss Gwen"s room."
"Are they there still?"
"Yes; on the dressing table, where she always had the letters left for her."
"Be good enough to bring them down here. Bring all."
Another pause in the proceedings while Gibbons is off after the now posthumous correspondence of the deceased lady, during which whisperings are interchanged between the coroner and the jurymen, asking questions of one another. They relate to a circ.u.mstance seeming strange; that nothing has been said about these letters before--at least, to those engaged in the investigation.