Part 48 (1/2)
”They told their whole story to the good wife. A packet has been lost, and Miss Betty lies at death's door because o' the grief o' that loss.
The little uns--bless 'em!--thought that the wife could find the packet.
That ain't in her line; it's mothering and coddling and loving as is in her line. So she put the job on me; and, to be plain, ma'am, I never were more flabbergasted in the whole o' my life. For to catch a poacher is one thing, and to catch a lost packet--n.o.body knowing where it be nor how it were lost--is another.”
”Well, why have you come to me?” said Mrs. Haddo.
”Because, ma'am, I've got a clue, and a big one; and this young lady's the clue.”
”You, Sibyl Ray--you?”
”Yes,” said Sibyl.
”Speak out now, missie; don't be frightened. There are miles worse things than poverty; there's disgrace and heart-burnings. Speak you out bold, missie, and don't lose your courage.”
”I was miserable,” said Sibyl. ”I didn't want to go to town, and when I got to the station I slipped away; and I got into the lane outside Stoke Farm and a dog came out and frightened me, and--and--then this man came--this kind man----”
”Well, go on, Sibyl,” said Mrs. Haddo; ”moments are precious just now.”
”I--took the packet,” said Sibyl.
”_You_--took--the packet?”
”Yes. I don't want to speak against another. It was my fault--or mostly my fault. I did love Betty, and it didn't matter at all to me that she was expelled from the Specialities; I should love her just as much if she were expelled from fifty Specialities. But f.a.n.n.y--she--she--put me against her.”
”f.a.n.n.y! What f.a.n.n.y do you mean?”
”f.a.n.n.y Crawford.”
Mrs. Haddo rose at once and rang her bell. When the servant appeared she said, ”Send Miss Crawford here immediately, and don't mention that any one is in my study. Now, Sibyl, keep the rest of your story until f.a.n.n.y Crawford is present.”
In about five minutes' time f.a.n.n.y appeared. She was very white, and looked rather worn and miserable. ”Oh, dear!” she said as she entered, ”I am so glad you have sent for me, Mrs. Haddo; and I do trust I shall have a room to myself to-night, for I didn't sleep at all last night, and----Why, whatever is the matter? Sibyl, what are you doing here? And who--who is that man?”
”Sit down, f.a.n.n.y--or stand, just as you please,” said Mrs. Haddo; ”only have the goodness not to speak until Sibyl has finished her story. Now, Sibyl, go on. You had come to that part where you explained that f.a.n.n.y put you against Betty Vivian. No, f.a.n.n.y, you do not go towards the door.
Stay quietly where you are.”
f.a.n.n.y, seeing that all chance of exit was cut off, stood perfectly still, her eyes fixed on the ground.
”Now, Sibyl, go on.”
”f.a.n.n.y was very anxious about the packet, and she wanted me to watch,”
continued Sibyl, ”so that I might discover where Betty had hidden it. I did watch, and I found that Betty had put it under one of the plants of wild-heather in the 'forest primeval.' I saw her take it out and look at it and put it back again, and when she was gone I went to the place and took the packet out myself and brought it to f.a.n.n.y. I don't know where the packet is now.”
”f.a.n.n.y, where is the packet?” said Mrs. Haddo.
”Sibyl is talking the wildest nonsense,” said f.a.n.n.y. ”How can you possibly believe her? I know nothing about Betty Vivian or her concerns.”
”Perhaps, miss,” said the farmer, coming forward at that moment, ”that pointed thing sticking out o' your pocket might have something to do with it. You will permit me, miss, seeing that the young lady's life is trembling in the balance.”
Before either Mrs. Haddo or f.a.n.n.y could utter a word Farmer Miles had strode across the room, thrust his big, rough hand into f.a.n.n.y's neat little pocket, and taken out the brown paper-packet.