The Monk of Hambleton Part 47

"The most important thing, according to her strict notions, was that the stolen property should be returned to its rightful owners. In wondering how best to do that, she evolved the crazy scheme of appearing in the monk's costume some time when I was with you. She could leave the notebook for you to find and at the same time provide me with a perfect and impervious alibi in case suspicion was ever directed my way!

"You know how it worked out. It's a miracle she didn't kill poor Mr.

Krech! He looked very cunning in his bandage this evening!

"Of course, Janet gave herself away to me! When she came home late that night I had it out with her--and sent her away! I admired her loyalty and spirit, but she was entirely too dangerous to have around!

I think Scotch consciences jump at odd angles like cats and detectives!

"That brings the story to date, Mr. Creighton. You know everything else, and the next move is yours." She leaned back and regarded him quietly, her little mocking smile on her lips. "What is the usual procedure? Do you make the arrest yourself? Or do you call the police? What a triumph you will enjoy over Norvallis!"

He did not reply in words. The answer lay on the floor beside his foot, where he had dropped the note to Jason Bolt which he had brought with him in his hurried dash to her side. He picked it up and gave it to her.

When she had read it, she let it drop in her lap. There was no mockery in her expression at that moment, though she could not forego a whimsical little taunt.

"That isn't practicing what you preach, Mr. Creighton!"

"I--I could not find the strength," he muttered hoa.r.s.ely.

She made no verbal response to that, but her eyes blessed him. After a moment she forced one uncertain question from trembling lips.

"Will you tell me wh-why?"

"Yes. I've a confession to make, too, Miss Ocky." He nerved himself to this ordeal. "I--I searched your room last evening while you were at the Bolts. Looking for proof against Janet. Will you forgive me?"

He waited for her quick nod. "I found nothing, but I did see your diary on that desk--and glanced at it."

"Ah!" said Miss Ocky, her cheeks stained a deep crimson.

"I found something there that interested me--made me--happy! A line wis.h.i.+ng we had met twenty years ago. Will you tell me what you meant by that? I'm afraid to trust my own interpretation." He paused, but she remained silent. "Anyway, I echo the wis.h.!.+ But twenty years is not a lifetime. If you tell me what I want to hear, we can still have many years--to forget Simon and think only of our own happiness--"

"Oh, stop! Stop!" She flung out a hand imploringly and drew back from him, her face ashen. "Oh, what a fool I've been--what a wicked little fool! I saw this coming--I never should have let it happen--oh, I should have hit you over the head--k-killed you, too!--anything but let this go on! But I d-didn't have the s-trength either! I wanted my bit of happiness--I wanted to be cared for like--like that by some one--by--by _you_ above all! And now--and now--!" She broke off on a sob.

"But, Ocky! What is it, dear? We have the future--"

"That's just what we haven't got!" she gasped. "Oh, don't you understand? Haven't you guessed why I have done all these things, why I was able to play Destiny without fear of the consequences to myself, why I called you in to-night to hear my confession?" She drew a sobbing breath, "I told you I was very ill. Peter, I--I'm _dying_!"

Softly though it was spoken, the word crashed upon his ears like a thunderclap. He sprang to his feet, shaken and bewildered.

"Ocky! What are you saying? Are you telling me the truth? What is the matter with you?"

"Yes. It's the truth. Sit down--please! Don't get silly ideas into your head about a doctor. Give me credit for some sense!" She managed to smile, and gallantly pitched her voice to a note of lightness. "As for what's the matter--well, we needn't wander off into pathology, need we? I think we'll dispense with an ante-post-mortem, if there is such an animal! I contrived to tie some of my little innards into bowknots once when I was h-hunting hippopotamusses in the Himalayas, I guess.

"Months afterwards, I came down with a pain--a pain such as I could not have believed a human being could experience and survive, I went to a doctor in Paris, and he told me there was no hope. A few months later I had a second attack. When I was able to travel, I went to a new man in Rome. He said the next attack would be the--last.

"Then I came home. I wanted to see Lucy again, and if this stupid business of dying had to be gone through I wanted to do it here in this old house. I wanted a few weeks or months of peace and quiet and h-happiness." Her voice broke, then steadied again. "Golly--what a fizzle!" She s.h.i.+vered. "This afternoon I got my--notice! How I wished you were here! I came up to my room, burned that diary--you snooped just in time, Peter!--and wrote two letters. I didn't dare leave the house to mail them. I might have dropped in the--_ah_!"

Swift as a flash of lightning it had come. Beyond that one moan she fought silently, lips tight, one hand clutching at her side, through seconds that seemed eternities to the man watching helplessly. At last the spasm pa.s.sed and speech returned to her.

"That's--just a preliminary twinge!" she whispered between her teeth.

"Peter--there's something beyond the stars! You believe that, don't you?"

"My dear--my dear!"

"That's all right, then." She looked at him long. "I wonder if you'll ever forgive me for hurting you like this. Try, won't you, Peter?"

Her eyes were luminous with unshed tears. "Will you get me a gla.s.s of--water. On the table by my bed." She waited as he eagerly fetched it, grateful that he could do even this much. "Thanks. Now, a handkerchief--over there on the bureau." Again she waited, this time until he was across the room by her dressing-table. Then she raised the gla.s.s and spoke softly. "I'm glad I took this from _your_ hands--Peter!"

She had not thought him capable of such quickness. Not a drop had pa.s.sed her lips before he was upon her with the leap of a frightened deer. A vicious sweep of his hand sent the gla.s.s from her fingers out the window and through the moonlit night, to fall harmless on the lawn.

"Ocky--what were you doing?" he demanded almost furiously.

"Peter--what have you _done_?" she retorted. "That was all I had--all I had! Oh, that was a cruel of you! Why do you want me to suffer?

Could you not let me die in peace?"

"You aren't going to die!" he cried. "Listen--how long will it be before another of those attacks comes on?"

"I--don't know. Several hours, p-perhaps." She stared at him open-eyed. "Wh-what are you going to do?"

"Local doctor, for temporary relief. To-morrow, the best diagnosticians--and surgeons if necessary--in New York." He was alert, now, coolly capable, free of the stupor of grief and despair. His face was grimly defiant as he added, "We'll see how much those gentlemen in Rome and Paris really know!"

"Oh--it's useless, Peter. And--and I _can't_ live! They'll h-hang me!

Peter, there's something I haven't told you. I hadn't stopped to think until lately that an unsolved crime leaves so much ugly suspicion in its wake! Innocent people--suspected all their lives! I couldn't die with that on my soul so--so this afternoon I wrote a full confession and mailed it to Norvallis--"

"Oh--_that_!" he said contemptuously. He reached into his pocket, plucked forth two letters and dropped them in her lap. "There!"

"Peter!" She stared at them. "Where on earth--? I couldn't go to town s-so I gave them to young Merrill to post. And he--he--"

"Is one of my men, introduced by Judge Taylor at my request! I'm glad you picked him, Ocky! He placed them on my desk, as in duty bound."

He hesitated, eyeing her dubiously. "I'm going for that doctor--Joliffe, the chap your sister has had. I liked his looks.

First, though, I suppose I'll have to rouse Bates to mount guard over you!"

"No-no--not that! Whatever happens, let that be our secret!"

"You must promise me not to do anything foolish while I'm gone." He took one of her hands and clasped it tightly in both of his. "Ocky, keep your nerve, dear! I'm going to get you out of this--get you out _somehow_! Leave it to me, dear, and stop worrying. Now, promise me!"

"There's another thing, Peter; I ought to tell you while we have this opportunity to talk. Mr. Krech knows I--I did it!"

"Krech! _Krech_! How in thunder--"

"I don't know, but he does. It would have been funny last n-night if it hadn't been so tragic! He got me alone for a few minutes and began to drop hints; said you were practically certain of the criminal and that if he were the murderer he would do almost anything desperate to prevent himself from being caught, only he admitted he couldn't think of anything!"

"Will wonders never cease! However, we needn't bother our heads about Krech--I'd trust him with my life. Can't waste any more time on him now. Promise me, Ocky!"

"It's--no--use--"

"_Promise me!_"

"I--I promise, Peter!"

He bent and kissed her almost fiercely--and was gone.