The Wooden Hand

Saltars took it with a long breath. "Just like the dowager," said he, "just as nippy. I'd like to see you have a turn up with old Lady Ipsen."

"Well, then," said Eva, "now we are friends and you promise not to talk nonsense to me, tell me what you mean by my father making a fortune for me."

"For both of us, by Jove," said his lordship; "you were to be Lady Saltars, and then we were to have forty thousand pounds."

"But my father didn't leave me a penny," said Eva.

"That's what I wish to see you about," said Saltars earnestly. "I heard from Mrs. Palmer's friends that you were without money, and were her companion, so I wrote asking to come to-night. I want to be your friend and help you. You ought to have forty thousand pounds."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I saw your father twice before he was killed: within the last six weeks. He told me that he had brought home forty thousand pounds. Twice he told me that; but he did not say how it was invested. I expect his lawyer, Mask, can tell you. He's my lawyer too."

"Mr. Mask told me that I inherited no money."

"Yet your father saw him," said the perplexed Saltars.

"I know he did; but he said nothing about forty thousand pounds. I know that he told Mr. Mask he would place some money in his keeping, without mentioning the amount, but he never did so."

"Didn't you find the money in his portmanteau or box, or-?"

"We found nothing; nor did we find any papers mentioning that such a sum of money was in existence."

"Then he must have been robbed of it, when dead."

Eva shook her head. "Nothing was taken out of his pockets. His money, his jewellery, his watch-nothing was taken."

"Queer," said Saltars. "Did you find in his pockets a large blue pocket-book with his crest on it, stamped in gold?"

"No. When did you see that?"

"When he was talking to me. I was hard up. I don't mind saying," said Saltars frankly, "that I'm always hard up. As your father looked upon me as his intended son-in-law, he gave me a pony, and took the notes out of the blue pocket-book. He carried his money there."

"He would scarcely carry forty thousand pounds there."

"No; but he might have carried a letter of credit for that amount. Or at least he would have some memorandum of such a large sum. If any notes were stolen with the pocket-book, you can trace those by the numbers when the murderer presents them, and then the beast will be caught. But the forty thousand-"

"Stop-stop," said Eva, my head is in a whirl. "Are you sure?"

"Perfectly; I was to marry you, and then we were to get the money. And I may tell you that your father said, more would come to us when he died. Depend upon it, Eva, the murder was committed for the sake of that money."

"I wonder if my father meant diamonds?" said Eva.

Saltars started. "By Jove, I shouldn't wonder," he said eagerly, "he would bring diamonds from South Africa as the easiest way to carry such a large sum. Perhaps he had the diamonds in his pocket and they were stolen."

"I must tell Allen this."

"Who is Allen? – oh, young Hill! Don't deny it. I can see it in your face, it's the lucky man. And by Jove he is. I don't see why I should surrender you. Your father wished us to marry-"

"You go too fast, Lord Saltars. Remember Miss Lorry."

Saltars would have said something more but that the door opened and Mrs. Palmer, fastening her glove, sailed in. "Not a word of the diamonds to any one," said Eva hurriedly.

"Not a word," said Saltars in a low voice, then raised it gaily-"How are you, Mrs. Palmer? My cousin and I have been talking" – he looked at Eva inquiringly, his invention failing him-"About-about-"

"Chinese metaphysics," said the feminine intellect.

CHAPTER XIII

THE OTHER WOMAN

Lord Saltars spent a very enjoyable evening in the company of two pretty women. Eva had no chance of further conversation, as Mrs. Palmer made the most of her noble guest. She sang to him, she chattered to him, she did all that a lively woman could do to amuse him. In fact, it seemed to Eva as though the widow was trying to fascinate his lordship. Saltars, no fool, saw this also.

"But it won't do," chuckled the guest, as he drove back to Shanton in a smart dog-cart. "She's a pretty, saucy little woman that widow, and has money, too, though not enough for me to marry her on. Then Eva's worth a dozen of her, for looks and breeding. But then she's got no money, and I can't afford to marry poverty. Of course that forty thousand pounds might turn up, but on the other hand it might not. Finally, there's Bell Lorry! Ugh!" his lordship shivered. "I'm not so gone on her as I was; yet there's something infernally taking about Bell. She's a fine woman-with a temper. But she's got no money, and no birth, and precious little character, I should say. I'm not going to marry her, though she thinks so. But it will be the deuce's own job to get rid of her."

Saltars argued this way until he arrived at Shanton. Then he delivered the reins to his groom at the door of the Queen's Hotel, where he was stopping, and rang the bell. It was after twelve o'clock, and a fine starry night. But the chill in the air made Saltars pull up the collar of his overcoat and grumble. He was anxious for his bed and a glass of steaming grog. He got the last, but he was prevented from getting to the first by reason of a visitor. On ascending to his sitting-room he was met by a sleepy waiter.

"Your lordship," said this individual, "there's a lady waiting to see your lordship in your lordship's room."

"What, at this hour! It's not respectable."

"So the landlady told her, your lordship, but she said that she would do what she liked, and threatened to make a scene. Mrs. Cowper then thought it would be best to let her stay. She's waiting upstairs-the lady, I mean, your lordship-and is in a fine rage."

"It sounds like Bell," thought Saltars, and dismissed the old waiter, who went back to tell the night-porter he was going to bed. But the night-porter persuaded him to remain up for a time.

"There's going to be a row with that wench," said the night-porter; "she's a circus-rider-Miss Lorry by name, and has a temper of her own. I think she'll give it to his lordship hot. I wonder Mrs. Cowper don't object to such goings on."

So the two men, waiter and night-porter, remained below while Saltars, fully aware from the description that his visitor was Miss Lorry, entered the room prepared for a storm. The lady was seated in a chair near the table, and was drinking champagne which she had ordered at his expense. She was a fine-looking woman of mature age, and was expensively dressed in blue silk. Her arms and neck were bare, and she wore many jewels. As she was of the Junoesque order of woman, she looked remarkably well. Her cheeks were flushed, but whether from the champagne or from rage it was impossible to say. Probably a mixture of both gave her the high colour she wore, when she looked up to see Saltars enter.

In spite of this description and of the lateness of the hour, and of the lady's loud manner, it must not be thought that Miss Lorry was anything but a thoroughly decent woman-if somewhat of a Bohemian. She was known as an accomplished rider throughout the length and breadth of the three kingdoms, and no one had a word to say against her character. She was certainly fond of wine, but kept her liking for that within due bounds, as a rule. She was also kind-hearted, charitable, and generous. Many a man and woman connected with the circus, and with the sawdust profession as a whole, had cause to remember Miss Lorry's kind heart. Bohemian as she was, the woman was really good and true and had many noble instincts. Saltars might have done worse than marry her, in spite of her birth, and profession, and years-for she certainly was older than he was. But Saltars, with his shallow instincts, looked on the outward beauty of Bell Lorry somewhat coarsened by age and her hard life. He had not the penetration to see the real, true, kindly, noble soul she possessed. And then it must be confessed that Miss Lorry masked her many good qualities by indulging on the least provocation in royal rages. When blind with passion, she was capable of anything.

"Oh," said she, tossing her head, "so you're back!"

"Just so," replied Saltars, taking off his overcoat and tossing it on to the sofa. "I didn't expect to find you here-it's after twelve-really you should not, you know, for your own sake. People will talk, and the landlady here is no angel."

Miss Lorry snapped her fingers and drank some wine. "That for the landlady," she said coolly, "so long as my conscience is clear, I'm not afraid of what people say. And I couldn't go to bed without seeing you. The circus leaves for Chelmsford tomorrow."

"But you needn't go with it," said Saltars, lighting a cigarette. "I daresay we can have a talk tomorrow before you go?"

"We must have a talk to-night and an understanding too," snapped the woman, her eyes blazing. "Look here, Lord Saltars, what do you mean by going after that girl?"

"What girl?" asked his lordship, taking a seat.

"You know well enough. You've been over to Wargrove to dine with that Mrs. Palmer, and Miss Strode is with her as a companion."

"You seem to know all about it, Bell."

"Don't call me Bell. I've never given you permission to call me by my christian name. I always call you Lord Saltars and not Herbert. You can't say a word against me."

"I don't want to, but-"

"I shan't listen to your remarks," said Miss Lorry in a rage; "you think because I'm a circus-rider that I've got no pride and no decency. But I'd have your lordship know that I'm a respectable woman, and there's no mud can be thrown at me. You asked me to marry you, and I said I would. Is that so?"

"Yes, but-"

"Hold your tongue. If that is so, what right have you to go after that girl? She's a nice girl and a decent girl, and a lady, which I am not. All the same, you shan't spoil her life."

Saltars raised his eyebrows. "I have no intention of spoiling her life. She's my cousin, if you remember-"

"Oh, I know. But you're just the sort of man to make love to her, and break her heart. And as you're engaged to marry me, I shan't have it. So you look out, Mr. Herbert Delham, or Lord Saltars, or whatever you call yourself."

"I wouldn't get in a rage over nothing, if I were you," said Saltars coolly, "and I shouldn't drink more of that wine either. It only excites you. Try this," he tossed her a cigarette, "it may calm your nerves."

"My nerves are my own to do what I like with. And if you had my nerves you might talk. It isn't a nervous woman who can ride and control a savage stallion like White Robin."

"That horse will kill you some day," said Saltars; "he's got the temper of a fiend."

"So have I when roused, so don't you make me angry."

"You're not very good-tempered now. Try the cigarette."

"I'll smoke if you hand me one properly and light it for me. I do not take things thrown to me as if I were a dog."

Lord Saltars rose and produced another cigarette-the one he threw was lying on the table. He offered this to Miss Lorry with a bow, and then gravely lighted a match. In another minute the smoke was curling from her full lips, and she calmed down. Saltars returned to his seat and lighted a new roll of tobacco with the stump of his old cigarette. "How did you know I went to Shanton to-night?"

"Cain told me. Yes, and he told me about Miss Strode being Mrs. Palmer's companion. He went to-day to see his mother, with whom Miss Strode lived. She-the mother, I mean-knew that you were going to Mrs. Palmer's to-night, as Mrs. Palmer told her."

"I wonder Mrs. Palmer took the trouble," said Saltars coolly. "My movements seem to interest her, and this Mrs. Merry and Cain. I'll break that young man's head if he spies on me."

"You'll have to reckon with Signor Antonio if you do, and, as he's the Strong Man of our show, you'll get the worst of it."

"Great strength doesn't usually mean science. And I think I can put up my flippers with any man."

"You're a brute," said Miss Lorry, with an admiring glance at Saltars' sullen strength, which was what attracted her; "no one would take you to be a nobleman."

"As to Signor Antonio," went on Saltars, taking no notice of the compliment, "he's not an Italian in spite of his dark looks and broken English. He's a half-bred gipsy mumper, and a blackguard at that. You seem to know him pretty well, Miss Lorry. I can't say I admire your choice of acquaintances."

"I know you," she retorted, "so you're the last person to talk. As to Antonio, he's been with the show for years, and I'm always friendly with fellow artistes. He's a brute, as you are: but he daren't show his teeth to me."

"He shows them to Cain often enough."

"He's fond of the boy all the same, and he's the-" here Miss Lorry checked herself; "well it doesn't matter. I didn't come here to talk about Antonio. It's getting late, and I want to go to my room. I'm lodging in the next house."

"You should have left a message asking me to call."

"I dare say, and you'd have come, wouldn't you?"

"But here at this hour your reputation-"

"Leave my reputation alone," cried Miss Lorry in a rage, "it's better than yours. I'd like to see any one say a word again me. I'd have the law of him or her-if you're thinking of that white-faced cat the landlady. But see here, about Miss Strode-"

"Don't say anything about Miss Strode. I called, as her cousin. There's no chance of my marrying her."

"Mr. Strode said otherwise."

"You didn't know Strode," said Saltars, starting and looking puzzled.

"Oh, didn't I though?" jeered Miss Lorry; "well, I just did. Six years ago I knew him. He came to the circus, behind the scenes, I mean, to see Signor Antonio. He spotted Antonio performing in the ring and recognised an old friend. So he called after the performance and was introduced to me. I knew him again when he came to the circus when we were near London. He came to see you then."

"I know he did. Strode called at my digs and found from my man that I'd gone to the circus. As he wished to see me before he went to Wargrove, he followed me to the show. But I didn't know you spoke to him, or even knew him."

"He came to see me on his own," said Miss Lorry, frowning, "when you were talking to Stag. We had a conversation, and he said you were going to marry Miss Strode-"

"Well, I wasn't engaged to you then."

"You're not engaged now unless I choose to," said the woman coolly, "but you were making love to me, and I told Mr. Strode that I had a claim on you. He lost his temper and said you had promised to marry his daughter."

"If I had, I would hardly have proposed to you," said Saltars diplomatically.

"Oh, I don't know. You do exactly what suits you. And if Mr. Strode had lived he might have induced you to throw me over and marry Miss Strode. But he's dead, whosoever killed him, poor man, and you're engaged to me. Do you intend to marry me or not?"

"Well I want to, but there's no money."

"How do you know there's no money? I've got my savings. Yes, you may look; but I'm no spendthrift. I have enough invested to bring me in five hundred a year, and many a year I've worked to get the money together. We can live on that and with what your father will allow you."

"My father won't allow me a penny if I marry you."

Miss Lorry rose calmly. "Very good. If you're going to take that line, let us part. I shan't see you again after to-night."

But Saltars was not going to let her go so easily. He really loved this woman, while his liking for Eva was only a passing fancy begotten of her dead father's schemes. Often, when away from Miss Lorry did he curse himself for a fool, and decide to break his chains, but when in her presence the magnetism of the woman asserted itself. Her bold, free, fiery spirit appealed to Saltars greatly: also she was a splendid horsewoman and could talk wisely about the stables. Saltars loved horses more than anything in life save this woman, and her conversation was always within his comprehension. Moreover, during all the time of their courting she had never allowed him to even kiss her, always asserting that she was a respectable woman. Consequently as the fruit was dangling just out of Saltars' reach and only to be obtained by marriage, he was the more anxious to pluck it. Finally, Bell was really a magnificent-looking woman in a bold way, and this also appealed to the susceptible nature of Saltars.

"Don't go, Bell," he said, catching her dress as she moved to the door. Whereat she turned on him.

"Leave me alone, Lord Saltars, and call me Miss Lorry. I won't have you take liberties. Either you love me and will marry me openly in a decent church, or we part. I'm not going to have mud thrown on my good name for you or any one."

"You know that I love you-"

"I know nothing of the sort. If you did, you'd not go after your cousin; not that I've a word to say against her, though she did treat me like dirt when we spoke at Wargrove."

"I only went to see my cousin about the money left by her father."

Miss Lorry turned and leaned against the wall near the door. "There was no money left," she said sharply. "Mrs. Merry told Cain, and he told me. The poor girl has to go out as a companion."

"I know. But there is money. Strode told me that he would give her and me forty thousand pounds if we married."

"Very well, then," said Miss Lorry, her eyes flashing; "why don't you go and marry her? I won't stop you."

"Because, in the first place, I love you; in the second, she has not got the money and don't know where it is; and in the third, she is engaged to a fellow called Hill."

"Allen Hill?" said Miss Lorry; "yes, I remember him. He told me he was engaged when we spoke at the gate of the cottage. A nice young fellow and quite the man. I love a man," said Miss Lorry admiringly, "and that chap has a man's eye in his head, I can tell you."

"What about me?"

"Oh, you're a man right enough, or I shouldn't have taken up with you. But I say, if Miss Strode's engaged to Hill why doesn't she marry him now that the father's dead and there's no obstacle?"

"I don't know why the marriage doesn't take place," said Saltars pondering, "but I think it is because there's no money."

"There's the forty thousand pounds."

"That can't be found, and there's no memorandum amongst the papers of Strode likely to say where it is. I expect he brought the money home from Africa in the form of diamonds, and hid them somewhere."

Miss Lorry changed colour. "Oh," she said thoughtfully, and then went on rapidly, "If this forty thousand pounds comes to Miss Strode, I suppose she'd marry Hill."

"Rather. She seems very fond of him."

"He's worth being fond of! he's a man I tell you, Saltars. Humph! I wonder if the money can be found?"

"There doesn't seem to be much chance."

"Do you think the money is locked up in diamonds?"

"It might be. As no money was found, Strode might have brought home his fortune in that form."

"I read the papers about the inquest," said Miss Lorry, staring at the ground; "what about that lawyer?"

"Mask? Oh, he knows nothing. He said so at the inquest."

"I wonder if the wooden hand has anything to do with the matter?"

"Well," said Saltars, rising and yawning, "it was certainly stolen, so it would seem it had a value. Of course if the hand was sent to Mask it was to be a sign that he had to give up any money he might have. It might have been stolen for that purpose."

"Yes, and the man might have been murdered to obtain possession of it."

"I don't think so. If Strode had been murdered on that account, the hand would have been stolen when the body was lying in the Red Deeps."

"It was stolen when it lay in the cottage," said Miss Lorry, "I remember. And Mask said that he had no money of Strode's, so there's not much use of the hand being sent to him. It's all very queer."

"Do you intend to try and unravel the mystery of the death?"

"Why not? I'd like that girl married to Hill and out of my way. I don't intend to let her marry you. So good-night," and Miss Lorry marched off without a word more.

CHAPTER XIV

SIGNOR ANTONIO

Cain Merry was a particular pet of Miss Lorry's, and the lad felt grateful to her for the attention. He admired her exceedingly, and at one time had fancied himself in love with her. But Miss Lorry, experienced in admirers, laughed at him the moment she descried the early symptoms, and told him she was old enough to be his mother. It was creditable to Cain that he took the hint thus given, and devoted himself to Jane Wasp, with whom he had been in love ever since they attended the same board school. And after his passing fancy for Miss Lorry, the lad's love for the policeman's daughter became even more marked, much to the joy of Jane, who adored the dark-eyed scamp, and lost no opportunity of meeting him.

But Cain was such a Bohemian, that this was no easy matter. Owing to the nagging of his mother, he stayed away from Misery Castle as much as he could, and got jobs in the surrounding country and in London. Also there was some influence at work on Cain's character, which Jane could not understand: something that made him moody and inclined him to despair. In her simple way Jane tried to learn what it was, that she might comfort him, but Cain always baffled her.

On the morning after Miss Lorry's interview with Saltars, the lad was more dismal than usual, and was rather listless in his work. As the circus was packing up to move on to Chelmsford, there was little time to be lost, and Cain came in for many a hard word. At length the manager became exasperated at his indolence, and sent him off with a message to Miss Lorry, who had rooms near the Queen's Hotel. Nothing loath to be relieved from moving heavy beams, and taking down the large tent, Cain set off in better spirits.

On passing through the market place about ten o'clock he saw Jane, perched on a light market cart, and ran towards her with a bright face. The girl received him with a joyful cry, and explained that she had been looking for him for the past hour.

"Mrs. Whiffles drove me over," she explained, getting down to speak more freely; "she keeps the Wargrove inn, you know-"

"Of course I know," said Cain quickly; "I'm Wargrove as well as you, Jane. But how did your father let you go. I thought he was keeping you in, to help your mother."

"Ah, he does that," said Jane with a sigh; "father's a hard one, Cain, and hates you like poison. You see he's all for the law, and you-"

"And I'm a vagabond, as my mother says. Well, Jane, don't you fret, I'm getting a higher law than that your father serves. I'll tell you about it some day. How did you come over?"

"I told you. I came with Mrs. Whiffles. Mother wanted some things here, and as Mrs. Whiffles was going, she thought I might come too. I shan't tell father anything, nor will mother. He's out till two, and we must be back before then. But mother wouldn't have let me come had she known the circus was here, Cain. She says I'm not to think of you at all. I'm to go out to service."

"We may marry before you do that," said Cain quickly; "how did you know the circus was here?"

"Mr. Hill's groom Jacobs told me."

"Oh!" Cain frowned. "You're too thick with that Harry Jacobs."

"I've known him all my life, Cain."

"So have I, and I don't like him. He thinks he's every one, because he wears a smart livery. I wear just as smart a one in the circus."

"Yes, but the circus ain't decent, Cain. I could never marry you if you kept on there. I couldn't go about as you do, and if you're to be my husband I'd like to be near you."

"You shall be near me, and we'll marry to take service in something better than a circus," said Cain, his face lighting up.

"What's that?"

Cain drew near and was about to speak, when his ear was suddenly seized by a large dark man, who frowned. "Why aren't you seeing Miss Lorry, you young scamp?" said the stranger. "I've got to do your business. Mr. Stag asked you particularly to give that note. Hand it over."

"I'll take it now," said Cain, getting free; "leave my ear alone."

"You give the note to me, Cain. Who is this?" and he looked at Jane.

"She's a friend of mine from Wargrove," said Cain sulkily; "get back into the cart, Jane."