But Geoffrey saw nothing of this, or he might have compelled her to stay, and not tempt the danger of a walk along the cliff path on such a night. He was, however, playing no watcher's part, and there was no one to see the hurried figure that almost ran out of the cottage at Gwennas Cove, with a long cloak huddled round it, so as to cover the sleeping babe as well.

The night had grown darker, but the pathway was perfectly familiar to her, as it had been from childhood; and, thinking more of her mission than of the child she held so carefully wrapped, she hurried on, gazing straight before her, so as to avoid slip or fall over some awkward ma.s.s of rock.

So deeply intent was the girl upon her mission that she did not see the figure of a man standing against the cliff face, just by the opening by the ruined mine; and, as she reached the spot, she was so taken by surprise that the cry that rose to her lips was checked on the instant by a fold of her own cloak.

It was a matter of moments. There was a feeble struggle, a hoa.r.s.e, smothered cry, a violent thrust, and in the darkness the cloaked figure was seen to stagger back--totter--and then her a.s.sailant seemed to throw himself upon his knees, and rest there, panting and listening, till from far below there came up a hollow, reverberating plash as of some heavy body falling into the depths of the deserted mine. Then twice over there was a hoa.r.s.e cry, and then a curious sound of splashing which rose in a horribly distinct fashion upon the black night air.

Then all was still.

CHAPTER FIFTY FOUR.

JOHN TREGENNA'S TRIUMPH.

The man rose softly then from his hands and knees, rubbing the former to get rid of the dirt that might be clinging there, and then taking out a white handkerchief to brush his knees--a needless operation, for the turf was short and dry, and left no marks.

Then, panting heavily, though his exertions had been slight, he stood listening again, not daring to go nearer to the edge of the shaft.

All was perfectly quiet, and, with a sigh of relief, he crept back to the pathway and listened.

All was still here too, but he could not flee yet without going back and searching about to see if there was any thing dropped--handkerchief, cloak, or the like.

But no; all was apparently as it should be, and he could find no trace; so once more going cautiously to the footpath, he listened, and, all being still, he walked swiftly in the direction of Carnac, till, reaching the path down to the sh.o.r.e, he turned down it quickly, and came in contact with Geoffrey Trethick.

"Hallo!" exclaimed the latter, sharply, "do you want to knock a man off the cliff? Oh, it's you, Mr Tregenna!"

Tregenna did not answer, but, trembling in every limb, pressed on to reach the sh.o.r.e; but before he had gone many yards a malicious spirit seemed to tempt Geoffrey, and he called after the retreating figure,--

"If you are going to see Miss Mullion, Mr Tregenna, you will find the upper path the better."

"d.a.m.n!" muttered Tregenna, as he almost staggered now down the cliff; "what cursed fate sent him here to-night?"

He was so completely unnerved by the encounter, that he paused for a few minutes to try and recover himself.

"If I could--if I could," he muttered; "but he is too strong. My G.o.d!

what shall I do?"

The horror of discovery was so great that for a time he could not proceed, and in imagination he saw the body of his victim brought to the surface, and Geoffrey Trethick bearing witness of having seen him near the spot.

By degrees, though, he grew calmer, as he felt there was very little chance of poor Madge's body ever being found, the old shaft being many hundred feet deep. Besides, there was nothing to make people think she had been thrown down there. Even if she were found, was it not far more probable that she had committed suicide, especially as she had attempted it once before?

"I'll not go," he muttered. "Better to face it out. Bah! there is nothing to face."

He stopped and lit a cigar, the necessity for concealment having gone.

Geoffrey had spoiled that portion of his plan, namely, to reach the other side of the town unseen. On the contrary, he felt now disposed to court observation, and walked on smoking along the rugged sh.o.r.e to the slope by the harbour, up which he pa.s.sed, exchanging greetings with Tom Jennen and one or two men who were leaning over the rail that protected the edge of the cliff.

"It's gashly dark night, sir. Bad walking down there, bain't it?"

"Well, yes, it is rough," said Tregenna, "but it does for a change."

"Hah!" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, taking a long breath, as he walked slowly up towards An Morlock; "it is hard work, but I dare say I can manage to keep cool."

But he could not, for once more a sensation as of panic seized upon him, and something seemed to urge him to fly for his life before it was too late. For he recalled Madge's visit to him, and Chynoweth's knowledge of that visit, and what she had said.

On all sides black threatening shadows of impending danger seemed to rise about him, and it was only by a savage wrench that he tore himself from the spot, and went on to his own house, where he washed, and carefully brushed his clothes, after taking a goodly gla.s.s of brandy.

This last gave him the nerve he had lost, and, feeling calmer, he went out once more into the cool night air.

Here he lit a fresh cigar, and at last, perfectly calm and unruffled, he went up the drive to the great house, gazing about him with a satisfied air, as if he claimed the place now as his own, and, nodding to the servant who admitted him, he took off hat and gloves, crossed the handsome hall, and stepped into the well-lit drawing-room.

Rhoda was speaking angrily as the door closed behind him, and she did not hear his entry. It was evidently her final remark after much that had gone before, and John Tregenna stood there paralysed, as the words fell from her lips.

"I'll not believe it," she cried. "Mr Trethick must have sent you here. What proof have you that Mr Tregenna is the wicked man you say?"

"His own looks," said Madge, as she stood there with flashing eyes and ashy face, seeming to the wretched man like some avenging spirit pointing at him with white and quivering hand. "Ask him, if you will, though you can read the truth there. Now, Miss Penwynn, can you marry such a man as this?"

Rhoda made no answer, for John Tregenna's brain had reeled. He had made two or three attempts to master, his craven dread, but in vain. Not an hour ago he had cast, as he believed, Madge Mullion down that hideous chasm in the earth, had heard her dying shrieks; and then, gloating over his release from one who would have blasted all his plans, he had come straight on to An Morlock, to find her standing pointing at him with denouncing finger, and telling Rhoda Penwynn of his guilt.

He had striven, fought like a drowning man, but in vain; and, after clutching at a table to save himself, he fell with a heavy crash upon the floor.

CHAPTER FIFTY FIVE.

SISTERS IN THE FLESH.

Madge kissed her child pa.s.sionately again and again before replacing it in the cradle. Then she rose to steal to the door, but she could not go without running back to her helpless infant, which seemed somehow that night to draw her to its side.

It was as if she felt a presentiment that she was bidding it good-by forever, and, taking it to her breast once more, she rocked herself to and fro, sobbing over it silently, as she listened to the voices in the next room.

"He told Bessie not to let me go out again, I'm sure," she thought to herself; and, feeling that if she meant to go she must go at once, she unwillingly laid down the child after a pa.s.sionate embrace, and went softly out into the dark night.

She was very weak, and panted with the exertion as she reached the top of the ascent, but here she felt the sea-breeze, and, glancing round for a few moments as she tried to regain her breath, she noted one or two things that pointed to the coming of a storm before many hours had pa.s.sed. The lights on the point across the bay loomed up so that they were plainly to be seen, and her sea-side life made her read tokens of the tempest in the direction and sound of the wind.

She set off with the intention of going straight along the cliff path to the town, and then up to An Morlock, where she would see and tell Rhoda Penwynn all; but she had not gone far before a horrible feeling of dread began to oppress her. She recalled Tregenna's looks when he had heard her threat, and she felt now as certain as if she saw him before her that he would try and stop her.

"And if he does meet me?"

She stopped, shivering. Her blood seemed to run cold, and a nameless horror crept over her as she thought of what might be the consequences.

The chill of horror increased, for she dreaded that he would kill her, and now she felt that she would like to live.

Geoffrey Trethick had told her that she should live for the sake of her little one, and for its sake she would forget the world and its bitter ways. She had something indeed to live for now, and she blessed Geoffrey in her heart for awakening her to that fact.

Inspired by this idea, then, she went on cautiously, and with a step as light as that of some bird; but she saw nothing to cause her fear, and began to think that the darkness would befriend her, and hide her from the sight of any watcher who would stop her on her way.

She had already pa.s.sed the rough path down to the sh.o.r.e, the one up which Geoffrey Trethick had carried her on that terrible night, at the recollection of which she shuddered, and still there was no sign of danger; when suddenly she stopped short, for ahead of her in the darkness there came, plainly heard, the impatient hiss that one might make by a hasty drawing-in of the breath.