“You’ve never been near me for two hours!” she said. “Your dinner time was over long since! I might have been wanting all sorts of things for aught you cared!”
“I’ve had something else to do—for you!” retorted Esther, coming close to her mistress. “Listen, now!—I’ve got it!”
Mrs. Mallathorpe’s attitude and manner suddenly changed. She caught sight of the packet of papers in the woman’s hand, and at once sprang to her feet, white and trembling. Instinctively she held out her own hands and moved a little nearer to the maid. And Esther quickly put the table between them, and shook her head.
“No—no!” she exclaimed. “No handling of anything—yet! You keep your hands off! You were ready enough to bargain with Pratt—now you’ll have to bargain with me. But I’m not such a fool as he was—I’ll take cash down, and be done with it.”
Mrs. Mallathorpe rested her trembling hands on the table and bent forward across it.
“Is it—is it—really—the will?” she whispered hoarsely.
Instead of replying in words, Esther, taking care to keep at a safe distance behind the table, and with the door only a yard or two in her rear, drew out the documents one by one and held them up.
“The will!” she said. “Your letter to Pratt. The power of attorney. Two papers that he brought for you to sign. That’s the lot! And now, as I said, we’ll bargain.”
“Where is—he?” asked Mrs. Mallathorpe. “How—how did you get them? Does he know—did he give them up?”
“If you want to know, he’s safe and sound asleep in one of the rooms in the old part of the house,” answered Esther. “I drugged him. There’s something afoot—something gone wrong with his schemes—at Barford, and he came here on his way—elsewhere. And so—I took the chance. Now then—what are you going to give me?”
Mrs. Mallathorpe, whose nervous agitation was becoming more and more marked, wrung her hands.
“I’ve nothing to give!” she cried. “You know very well he’s had the management of everything—I don’t know how things are—”
“Stuff!” exclaimed Esther. “I know better than that. You’ve a lot of ready money in that desk there—you know you drew a lot out of the bank some time ago, and it’s there now. You kept it for a contingency—the contingency’s here. And—you’ve your rings—the diamond and ruby rings—I know what they’re worth! Come on, now—I mean to have the whole lot, so it’s no use hesitating.”
Mrs. Mallathorpe looked at the maid’s bold and resolute eyes—and then at the papers. And she glanced from eyes and papers to a bright fire which burned in the grate close by.
“You’ll give everything up?” she asked nervously.
“Put those banknotes that you’ve got in your desk, and those rings that are in your jewel-case, on the table between us,” answered Esther, “and I’ll hand over these papers on the instant! I’m not going to be such a fool as to keep them—not I! Come on, now!—isn’t this the chance you’ve wanted?”
Mrs. Mallathorpe drew a small bunch of keys from her gown, and went over to the desk which Esther had pointed to. Within a minute she was back again at the table, a roll of bank notes in one hand, half a dozen magnificent rings in the other. She put both hands halfway across and unclasped them. And Esther Mawson, with a light laugh, threw the papers over the table, and hastily swept their price into her handbag.
Mrs. Mallathorpe’s nerves suddenly became steady. With a deep sigh she caught up the various documents and looked them quickly and thoroughly over. Then she tore them into fragments and flung the fragments in the fire—and as they blazed up, she turned and looked at Esther Mawson in a way which made Esther shrink a little. But she was already at the door—and she opened it and walked out and down the stair.
She was halfway across the hall beneath, where the butler and one of the footmen were idly talking, when a sharp cry from above made her then look up. Mrs. Mallathorpe, suddenly restored to life and energy, was leaning over the balustrade.
“Stop that woman, you men!” she said. “Seize her! Fasten her up!—lock the door wherever you put her! She’s stolen my rings, and a lot of money out of my desk! And telephone instantly to Barford, and tell them to send the police here—at once!”
XXVIII
The Woman in Black
Nesta Mallathorpe, who had just arrived in Barford when Eldrick caught sight of her, was seriously startled as he and Collingwood came running up to her carriage. The solicitor entered it without ceremony or explanation, and turning to the coachman bade him drive back to Normandale as fast as he could make his horses go. Meanwhile Collingwood turned to Nesta. “Don’t be alarmed!” he said. “Something is happening at the Grange—your mother has just telephoned to the police here to go there at once—there they are—in front of us, in that car!”
“Did my mother say if she was in danger?” demanded Nesta.
“She can’t be!” exclaimed Eldrick, turning from the coachman, as the horses were whipped round and the carriage moved off. “She evidently gave orders for the message. No—Pratt’s there! And—but of course, you don’t know—the police want Pratt. They’ve been searching for him since noon. He’s wanted for murder!”
“Don’t frighten Miss Mallathorpe,” said Collingwood. “The murder has nothing to do with present events,” he went on reassuringly. “It’s something that happened some time ago. Don’t be afraid about your mother—there are plenty of people round her, you know.”
“I can’t help feeling anxious if Pratt is there,” she answered. “How did he come to be there? It’s not an hour since I left home. This is all some of Esther Mawson’s work! And we shall have to wait nearly an hour before we know what is going on!—it’s all uphill work to Normandale, and the horses can’t do it in the time.”
“Eldrick!” said Collingwood, as the carriage came
