The Vanishing of Tera. Fergus Hume

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ think it is a dire sin to owe money."

      "No doubt; and he will probably be asked to resign the pastorate of our Bethgamul. But----"

      "Now don't you say a word against him," interrupted Rachel, with crimson cheeks, "or I shall go away."

      "Rachel, you are not in love with him, I hope?"

      "No, Mr. Mayne, I am not. How dare you say such a thing to me! I am in love with no one at present."

      "Not with anyone?" whispered Mayne, looking directly at her.

      "I refuse to answer questions which you have not the right to ask."

      By her reply, Rachel hinted very plainly that Herbert could easily become possessed of that right by the simple procedure of a proposal. She quite expected him to do so, seeing that she had thus met him half-way; but to her surprise and secret anger he appeared in no way anxious to avail himself of the opportunity. Making no reply, he walked on gloomily beside her, silent and ill pleased. This behaviour both piqued and frightened her. So, determined not to say the first word in reconciliation of their tiff, she, too, held her tongue. And so they walked on.

      By this time they had arrived nearly at the cornfield where the harvesting was going on, under the personal supervision of Farmer Carwell. The sturdy old man was no convert to the use of steam, and his corn was reaped with sickle and scythe in the style of his forefathers. A long line of men, whose bodies rose and fell in rhythmic movement, swept the glittering blades through the thick standing grain. At their heels scrambled a crowd of women and boys, binding the swathes into sheaves. After them came the gleaners, picking up what was left. The sun flamed hotly in a cloudless sky of soft blue, and the yellow plain glowed like a furnace, Carwell, with his coat off, was directing operations, and only desisted from shouting and working when he saw his daughter approach with the silent Herbert at her heels.

      "Hey, lass! you are just in time to give us a hand," said he, wiping the perspiration from off his brow. "And you too, Mayne; but maybe you are too much taken up with your own crops to lend a hand with mine?"

      "Oh, I'll help," said Herbert, slipping off his coat. "I just came up with Rachel here, although by rights I should be back at the farm."

      "I'm sorry you troubled to come with me, Mr. Mayne," replied Rachel, not well pleased at this ungallant speech. "But we won't detain you here. Please go back to your own land."

      "Nay, nay," cried her father; "let the lad have a glass of beer and give us a hand if he will. We need all the help we can get, for I shouldn't be surprised if we have a deal of rain before the end of the week."

      "The weather looks set enough now," said Herbert, picking up a scythe. "Phew! it's as hot as the tropics. Well, I'll mow. Rachel, will you be my Ruth, and glean after me?"

      Rachel tossed her head. "Indeed I will not, Mr. Mayne."

      "It was 'Herbert' a few minutes ago," hinted the young man, dropping his voice.

      "Ah, you were good then. Just now I am not pleased with you."

      It was on Herbert's lips to ask her the reason, when a commotion was seen to take place amongst the harvesters. Excited voices were raised; two or three men stepped into the standing corn, and all threw down their hooks.

      "Hullo, hullo!" cried the farmer, striding towards them. "What's all this?"

      The answer he received startled him. A woman shrieked, and then several of them came tearing past, wild-eyed and white-faced. Rachel looked at Mayne. "What--what is it?" she gasped. But without reply Herbert rushed on towards the disordered group.

      "What is the matter?" roared Carwell, parting the crowd right and left. "What are ye----?"

      Then his eye caught sight of a dark object lying in the middle of the corn, and he recoiled. "A body!" he exclaimed, in horrified tone. "God help us--the body of a lass!"

      It was, indeed, the body of a woman. The harvesters examined it, but they could not recognize the face. It had evidently lain there several weeks among the standing corn. Recognition of its identity was impossible; indeed rain and sun and wind had combined to blot out well-nigh all semblance to humanity. But the dress showed these were the remains of a woman. There was something very pitiful in this poor clay lying there in the sunshine.

      "Strangled!" muttered Carwell, bending over it; "there is a cord round the throat. Send the women away," he shouted; "this is no sight for them. Poor lass! Dead--and in my field. I wonder who she was. Keep back, Rachel," he added, as his daughter, attracted by the news, came swiftly up.

      But Rachel did not pause. She had caught sight of the dead woman's dress, and brushed past her father.

      "Bithiah!" she cried. "It is Bithiah--Tera--Mr. Johnson's ward!"

       CHAPTER V

      A NINE DAYS' WONDER

      In a surprisingly short space of time the news was in every mouth. It drew the idlers of Grimleigh hot-footed to the half-reaped meadow where the corpse still lay amongst the standing corn. But the police, having received early notice, were quickly on the spot, and drew a cordon round the poor remains, that they might in no way be molested. Beyond this, the crowd of fishers and labourers broke into excited groups, arguing and theorizing.

      "I smelt 'um," said a grey-headed reaper; "eh, I smelt 'um. 'Tis a very bad smell, sure."

      "'Tis wonder mun was not found afore, William Lee."

      "You be a fule, George Evans. The poor lass was bedded out in the middle of the field wi' the corn thick about her. Nor smell nor sight could come to sich as passed on the road."

      "But the maiden must ha' bin dragged o'er the wheat-ears, and so they'd bin beat down. Now, if one saw sich----"

      "They would think 'twas the rain or God Almighty's wind, George Evans. Eh, and who would look for mun in a cornfield? He who killed yon maiden was cliver for sure."

      "And who did that, William Lee?"

      No one was sufficiently speculative or daring to answer this question. Eyes looked into eyes, heads were shaken at heads, but the labourers could guess neither by whom, nor for what reason, the girl had been killed. Mayne alone made an attempt to solve the mystery as he escorted Rachel to her home.

      "I wonder what Mr. Johnson knows of this?" said he, suddenly.

      Rachel looked at him in surprise. "I don't see what he can know of it, Herbert; the poor girl left his house while he was out."

      "Quite so; but he followed her!"

      "How do you know?"

      "I was coming up from Grimleigh on the night Bithiah disappeared. As I climbed that path which goes to the field, I met our pastor coming from it. He looked wild-like, and tore past me like a storm-wind. I did not know then what he was after; now I make sure he was in search of Bithiah."

      "Not to kill her, Herbert," cried Rachel, shuddering; "not to kill her!"

      "No; I don't say that, Rachel."

      "He СКАЧАТЬ