some talent as a poet and a writer, and I was prepared to battle with the world like other people. But Mrs. Marsh made me stop with her. I am twenty-six years of age now, and I have done nothing. I write poetry and send it to the American magazines, also a few prose articles. These keep me supplied with pocket-money. It was Bess who put me on to the New York papers. There, the editors are more open to new talent."
"And the Colonel refused to help you?"
"Always. But I never asked him. I hated that man," said Marsh between his teeth. "I never went near his house. At times my mother called to see him. She always fought viciously with him, and I think he liked her for that. Most people were afraid of him, and he admired her for standing up to him. Colonel Carr thought me a fool and a weakling because I stayed with Mrs. Marsh instead of going out into the world. But I ask you Herrick, what else could I have done? Mrs. Marsh had always been good to me; she sacrificed much so that I might be well educated, so the least I could do was to stop with her. Again and again I wanted her to come with me to London; but she always refused."
"I understand," said Jim, filling his pipe, "she wished to keep an eye on the Colonel."
"I think so. Carr always said that I was to be his heir. He has no relative but me, and he was reported to be wealthy."
"I should think so Marsh. That house is filled with treasure! Did he inherit his money?"
Stephen looked up alertly. "Ah, now you are touching on the secret of Carr's life," he said with some excitement. "His father died ruined, and left him nothing but 'The Pines' with a few acres of farm, and corn-land. Do you know how old Colonel Carr was, doctor?"
"No! I saw him only after his death. Not very old I should say."
"Just sixty," replied Stephen, "and into his life he crammed enough wickedness to fill a century. He was twenty when his father died, and in the army. By gambling and speculating he supported himself, and left his sister, my mother, in that old ruined house. Afterwards he left the army--cashiered for cheating at cards, and led a hand to mouth existence. But he would never sell 'The Pines,' however hard up he was. He stopped there on occasions, and played the devil all round. I can't tell you how bad he was. It is the common-talk of the countryside. He was called Mad Carr, and Wicked Carr."
"Colonel Carr?" put in Herrick.
"No! he was only a captain when he left the army at the age of thirty. I believe he called himself Colonel when he returned ten years ago."
"From what quarter of the world?"
Marsh shook his head. "I cannot tell you," said he slowly, "for twenty years Carr vanished from England. My mother was left behind in the old house, and afterwards married my father. She should have made a better match, but she had little money, and the reputation of her brother did her no good. However she married my father, and afterwards died when I was born. That was the end of her. The Colonel left his lawyers to look after the property, and remained away. I always heard that it was in South America he picked up his money. At all events he returned here ten years ago with plenty of cash. The first thing he did was to put the house in order, and fill it with splendid furniture. He engaged a staff of servants, and wanted to entertain. At first the people were disposed to be friendly, but he went on worse than ever, and everybody cut him. In a rage he sent away all the servants and only kept Frisco."
"Did Frisco come back with him from South America?"
"Yes! But whether it was South America or North I cannot say. Frisco could hold his tongue when he chose. However Carr turned his back on the country people, and went on worse than ever. He was said to be mad but I think it was mere devilment myself. One queer thing he did--no! Two queer things."
"The building of the tower was one," said Herrick shrewdly.
Marsh nodded. "And the other mad act was the throwing down of the walls and fences round the Pines."
Dr. Jim looked puzzled. "Humph," said he, "I noticed that the house had no fences round it. One came upon it suddenly, as if it had been dropped from the skies. Carr threw down the walls, to show that he was not afraid. On the other hand he must have built that tower to show that he was."
"I do not understand what you mean?"
"Why? It is not difficult if you remember what you said to me when we met that girl. You hinted that Carr was afraid of something in which Frisco was concerned. Well then; evidently his first attitude was one of defiance towards this fear. Afterwards he thought better of it and built the tower. A man would not leave that splendid house to sleep in a bare room at the top of a tower unless he was afraid."
"I think you are right," said Stephen musingly, "but I don't know what he was afraid of. It was the third year after he returned that he built the tower, and he was in such a hurry to get it done, that he had the men working at it by night. You know he has a magnificent system of electricity round about 'The Pines.' Well, the lights were on night after night until the tower was finished, and relays of workmen replaced one another. The whole county wondered at the way Carr went on."
"He gave no explanation?"
"No! He saw no one, but shut himself up like a hermit. Frisco attended to the house, and cooked the Colonel's meals. But I think Carr often cooked for himself. He was fond of cooking. For eight years he never went outside that house."
"Humph! That accounts for the gymnasium, the bowling alley, and the shooting gallery. What about his business?"
"He did it all my means of letter. Frith and Frith sent down a clerk occasionally. Carr was a clever man of business, and invested his money in good securities. So my mother said. She used to beard him in his den."
"And the clergyman, Corn?"
"Yes! He called also to try and reform the Colonel, but he did not succeed. A good fellow Corn, but weak. Can hold his tongue though."
"On the contrary he talked a good deal to me."
"So you said," muttered Stephen. "I wonder what he meant by that?"
"Did he know the secret of Carr's life?"
"Not that I know of. Corn always kept his mouth shut as I said. Why he should have talked openly to you I can't say?"
"It seems to me that there are mysteries on all sides," said Herrick with a shrug. "Miss Bess used to visit Carr you say?"
"She did once or twice; but I shall leave her to tell you of her visits and her opinion of her host."
"Marsh!" said Dr. Jim after a pause. "Have you any idea who murdered Carr?"
"No! Not the remotest. Unless it was Frisco."
"On the face of it, one would think so. Why did Frisco run away?"
Stephen rubbed his chin. "I think we must ask Bess," said he thoughtfully, "if anyone knows what is at the back of all this it is Bess Endicotte."
CHAPTER V
THE THEORY OF MRS. MARSH
For the next week or so, Herrick had his hands full. Mrs. Marsh grew rapidly worse, and several times nearly slipped through his fingers. But the doctor's skill, Petronella's nursing, and above all the indomitable determination of Mrs. Marsh not to die, enabled her to turn the corner. She became much better, but still suffered from racking pains. At times Herrick gave her morphia, but did so sparingly. From Petronella he learned that she had taken chloral for years past, and feared that if she gained a taste for morphia she might take to it instead of the weaker drug. For Stephen's sake, Jim could not let that happen.
Never had Herrick had so unruly a patient. He did not wonder that she had quarrelled with all the Beorminster doctors. The wonder was that she had a friend left. Her temper was ungovernable, and she fought Herrick on every point that did not chime in with her inclinations. In spite of the fact that he was attending her out of sheer kindness, and had intimated to Stephen that he expected no fee, Mrs. Marsh abused him virulently whenever she felt