Rupert shook his head. "If Miss Pewsey had that scheme in her head, she would be more friendly with Olivia," he said, "and she can set her mind at rest: Burgh will not marry Olivia."
"He's a dangerous rival Ainsleigh."
"Pooh. I can manage that young man and half a dozen like him. You don't think I'd give up the girl I love, to anyone, Tidman."
"No," said the Major, looking at the frank brave face of his host, "but Burgh is unscrupulous, and will make mischief. However, perhaps Forge will deal with him for this fan business. When Forge learns that Miss Pewsey has stolen his fan, he won't marry her. I'll have the satisfaction of spoiling her plans at all events."
"She seems to have a great many plans according to you," yawned Ainsleigh, "but frankly I think you have found a mare's nest. I don't believe anything will come of the matter. It's moonshine."
Tidman marched to the door. "We'll see," said he determinedly. "I believe trouble is coming to you through young Burgh," and he departed.
Rupert left alone lighted his pipe and thought of Mrs. Petley's fancy concerning the ghost. "If this is the trouble," said he to himself. "I don't mind. Burgh won't get Olivia unless over my dead body. As to this fan – pah!"
But he little knew what disasters the fan would bring to him. Abbot Raoul's ghost was not walking for nothing.
CHAPTER VI
Burgh's Story
Next morning Major Tidman was seated in his well-furnished room in the Bristol Hotel. From the window he commanded a fine view of the mouth of the Thames, of the pier, and of the picturesque lower town. But the view did not gain the attention of the Major, worthy as it was of his notice. He seated himself at the table which was spread for breakfast, and proceeded to make a good meal. Perhaps he did not eat so well as usual for the Major was worried, as was evident from the cross expression of his face. On the previous night he had gone to see Forge, and had told him how Miss Wharf became possessed of the fan. The doctor had listened to him quietly, but had refrained from making any observation, even when Tidman reminded him of his remark, as to his life being at stake. The interview had on the whole been unsatisfactory, and Tidman was not at all pleased. He wished to learn the truth about the fan.
"There's some secret connected with it," muttered the Major, while he devoured buttered eggs rapidly, "and that secret means a lot of money. Five thousand pounds is worth having. I could buy that plot of waste land near the church and build an hotel there. I believe it would pay. Then there's Forge's life, which, as he says, hangs on the fan, though in what way I can't find out. If I got the fan, I might be able to get something out of him. I would make Forge and Tung-yu bid against one another, and perhaps I'd get even more than is offered. Ainsleigh can't say anything against me now, as I am acting quite square and above board. He's got no enterprise," thought the little man with some scorn, "or he'd get Olivia to take the fan from her aunt and make the money out of it. But if he won't, I will, so I'll see Miss Wharf to-day and try what I can do. I daresay I'd get it from her for a five pound note – that is if she hasn't seen the advertisement. She's keen after money, too – as keen as I am. Humph," added Tidman, filling himself a second cup of coffee. "I wonder why Tung-yu was such a fool as to tell Ainsleigh he was willing to give five thousand. Anyone, not knowing the value of the fan, would get it cheap. There's a mystery about it, and the mystery means money. I must get to the bottom of the affair. Forge is no good, as he is holding his tongue: even when I told him that Miss Pewsey stole it, he did not seem to mind. But he'll never marry her after this, so I've spoilt her chance of marriage, the cat. Though why Forge should marry an old fiend who is eighty, if she's an hour, I can't make out. But Forge was always secretive," ended the Major in disgust, and reached for the paté-de-foi-gras.
His meal was interrupted by a smart young waiter, who intimated that a lady and gentleman wished to see the Major. Tidman was rather surprised at a call being paid at ten o'clock in the morning: but he was still more surprised, when at the heels of the waiter appeared Miss Pewsey and Dr. Forge. The latter looked much his usual self, hungry, dismal, and like a bird of prey: but Miss Pewsey had a colour in her cheeks and a fire in her black eyes, which made her look younger. It seemed that her errand was not a peaceful one.
"To what am I indebted – ?" began the courtly Major, when the little old maid cut him short with vinegary politeness.
"Indebted," she said, standing very straight and stiff, and quite ignoring the chair placed for her. "Oh, indeed, – how very polite we are. Judas!" she snapped out the word with flaming eyes. "Oh, Judas!"
"Really, Miss Pewsey – "
"You'd like to see me in the dock would you?" cried Miss Pewsey tossing her head and trembling with wrath, "I'm a thief am I – oh you military fat Judas."
"Did you come here to insult me?" asked Tidman growing purple.
"If you put it in that way I did," sniffed the lady, "and also to ask plainly, what you meant by stating to my promised husband here, that I stole a fan from his cabinet?"
Tidman changed from purple to scarlet. He had not reckoned on the doctor speaking to Miss Pewsey, and he turned a look of reproach on his friend. The doctor immediately took up the challenge, "I see you think I have been too free with my tongue," said he deliberately, "it is not my custom as you know. But I told you Major that I was engaged to Miss Pewsey, and I thought it only right that she should know the aspersions you have cast on her character."
"A character," cried the lady, "which has stood the test of years and which stands deservedly high. I am a Pewsey of Essex," she added as though the whole county belonged to her, "and never before have I been accused of thieving – Judas," she shot out the name again, and the Major quailed. He saw that he was in the wrong, owing to Forge's betrayal, and had to make the best of it.
"I am extremely sorry," he said apologetically, "quite a mistake."
"Oh, indeed. A jury will give their opinion on that," sniffed the maiden.
"No! No I beg of you – "
"The damages will be laid at five thousand pounds."
"The price of the fan," said Tidman starting.
"What do you mean by that?" asked Miss Pewsey, her eyes glittering.
"I mean, just nothing."
"Oh yes, you do. Make a clean breast of it Benjamin Tidman. Oh, to think that the son of a farmer, who was almost a labourer, should dare to speak evil of a Pewsey of Essex. But the law – the law," said the irate lady shaking a thin finger, "and five thousand pounds."
"Get it out of the fan."
"Is it worth that?" asked Forge coldly.
"You heard what young Ainsleigh said," answered Tidman as coldly.
"Yes I remember; but we have not come about the price, but about your libel on this lady."
"I apologise," said Tidman, seeing nothing else was to be done.
"Apology isn't money," snapped Miss Pewsey.
"Oh, if you want money, again I refer you to the fan."
The Major was getting angry. He didn't very much care if Miss Pewsey did bring an action at the moment, though with saner thoughts he would have been horrified at the idea. "I apologise," said he again, "but I was misled by Dr. Forge."
"How were you misled by me?" demanded Forge impassively.
"You
