A CROOKED FINGER
The quarrel had left Stracey too out of humour, and Nan too
unhappy for either to speak, and they mounted the conveyance in
silence.
After having proceeded a mile, however, George raised the hand
that held the whip, and pointed with the butt end over Nan at a
house of red sandstone that had been quarried out of Nesscliffe, standing in a pleasant domain, well-timbered, and said:
"There, that's the mansion where she lived who poisoned her
husband."
Neither of the girls made any observation. He continued:
"She was a jeweller's daughter, an orphan under the charge of
an uncle, and he was a pig-headed old guardian. He would not
suffer her to marry the young man to whom she was attached—it
had been a liking begun in childhood, and he was in the army in
the Netherlands. He was taken prisoner at Turcoing, and he did
not get exchanged for some years. Her uncle suppressed his
letters, and persuaded his niece that her lover had fallen. Then, whilst she was in despair, he so wrought upon her as to induce her to marry the owner of that house I have pointed out to you. He was a man of some family, and she of none; he was old enough to be her father. She had inherited some money—how much, I know not. After she was married the lover returned to England, and then only did she discover that she had been deceived. He was a soldier, and reckless, and persuaded her to run away with him; and she poisoned the old man. I do not think that the lover had any part in that; indeed, some say that she did not purpose doing more than giving the old fellow a draught to make him ill and keep his chamber, or to sleep, but she made the dose too strong. He slept never to wake again. That is a pretty seat for a gentleman, and not such as a fellow would care to leave, especially if he had a young, fresh, and pretty wife.
"Whether she was handsome or not, I cannot tell; we could not
get near enough to the stake to see. And with the fear of
death—and such a death—it was not likely that then she would
look her best, eh, Nan? There, do you mark yonder park palings? That is the limit of the domain. They assured me at the tavern yonder that she had been a sweet and well-disposed lady, and that none hereabouts gave credence that she had purposed to kill her husband. Who will come into the estate now is doubtful. The old man had no near relatives, and as to what was hers there also is a doubt. The property of one who dies for petty treason is confiscated to the State; but hers, doubtless, had been joined to and disposed of by her husband, so the Crown could not lay hands on it. It is well there were no children, for this sentence carries with it corruption of blood. They tell me she had jewels which were given her by her father, or left to her, but what became of them, and who would claim them, none knew. If I knew where they were, and could reach them—eh, Nan?"
"See now," exclaimed Nan, whose good humour had returned, "we
have quitted Nesscliffe, and have not been that Stewponey Bla was
able to do that for which we brought her hither. What was it, Bladys? Shall we turn back?"
"On no account. I have accomplished my errand."
"It was an errand. To whom?"
"It was a commission."
"But when? How? I did not see you—"
"Do not concern yourself about me," said Bladys hastily. She
was embarrassed how to answer.
Then, as George Stracey drew up, and again raised his hand, she said hastily:
"I ought to have spoken before—but yet I could not. Indeed, I
did not know—not till this minute—not till the Captain pointed
to the house did I observe it—my brain has been too heated and
disturbed to see things. Never before have I noticed that Captain
Stracey has a crooked forefinger."
"He has had that for some years," said Nan. "He received a cut
across the joint, and it healed badly. What of that?"
"A vast deal," answered Bladys. "When Luke Hangman and I were
stopped by the highwaymen on the heath beyond Stourton, then, if
you remember, Nan, the leader of them made us foot it on the
turf, and he danced as well."
"Right, so I recollect," answered the girl, and she touched
her male companion, who had drawn the reins and brought the horse
to a standstill.
"What then?" inquired Stracey.
"There was moonlight mingled with daylight, for the sun had
not long set," continued Bladys, "and Luke Onion was able to
observe attentively not only what went forward, but those who
partook in the affair."