The Ghost Girl Read online

  CHAPTER VII

  The grand inquisition began that evening after dinner--Phyl did not appearat dinner, alleging a headache--and Rafferty, summoned to the library, hadto stand whilst Pinckney, seated at the table with a pen in his hand and asheet of paper before him, went into the business of accounts.

  Mark how the unexpected occurs in life. Rafferty, who had been pilferingfor years, selling garden produce and keeping the profits, robbing cornfrom the corn bin in the stable, poaching and selling birds and groundgame to a dealer in Arranakilty, receiving illicit commissions and soforth, had on the death of his master shaken off all restraint andprepared for a campaign of open plunder. The very last thing he could haveimagined was the sudden appearance of an American business man on thescene, armed with absolute power and possessing the eye of a hawk.

  "Your master asked me just before he died to look after this estate,"began Pinckney; "in fact, he has appointed me to act as guardian to MissBerknowles, so I just want to see how things stand. Now, to begin with thehorses. I want to know everything about the stables during the last--shallwe say--six months. Who supplies the corn and the hay and the straw?"

  "I've been gettin' some from Faulkner of Arranakilty, sor, and some fromDoyle of Bally-brack."

  "Don't you grow any horse food on the estate?"

  "We don't grow no corn, sor."

  "Well, hay and straw?"

  "You can't get straw, sor, widout you grow corn."

  "I know that--but how about hay--surely you grow lots of grass?"

  "We graze the grass, sor."

  "Do you let the grazing?"

  "Well, sor, it's this way; the masther was never very shtrict about thegrazin'; we puts some of the horses out to grass, ourselves, and we letspoor folk have a bit of grazin' now and then for their cattle, thoughmaster was never after makin' money from the estate--"

  "Just so. Have you the receipted bills for the fodder during the last sixmonths?"

  "Yes, sor. The master always sent me wid the money to pay the bills."

  "You have got the receipts?"

  "The which, sor?"

  "The bills receipted."

  "Bills, sure, what's the good of keepin' bills, sor, when the money'spaid. I b'lave they're somewhere in an ould crock in the stable, at lastethat's where I saw thim last."

  "Well," said Pinckney, "you can fetch them for me to-morrow morning, andnow let's talk about the garden."

  Rafferty, not knowing what Pinckney might discover and so being unable tolie with confidence, had a very bad quarter of an hour over the garden.

  Pinckney was not a man to press another unduly, nor was he a man to haggleabout halfpence or worry servants over small peccadillos. He knew quitewell that grooms are grooms, and will be so as long as men are men. Hewould never have bothered about little details had Rafferty been anordinary servant. He recognised in Rafferty, not a servant to be dismissedor corrected, but an antagonist to be fought. It was the case of the dogand badger. Rafferty was Graft and all it implies, Pinckney was StraightDealing. And Straight Dealing knew quite well that the only way to getGraft by the throat is to ferret out details, no matter how small.

  So Rafferty was taken over details. He had to admit that he had "givenaway" some of the stuff from the garden and sold "a bit," sending it up toDublin for that purpose; but he was not to be caught.

  "And the profits," said Pinckney. "I suppose you handed them over to Mr.Berknowles?"

  "No, sor; the master always tould me to keep any bit of money I might draafrom anything I planted extra for me perkisites, that was theunderstandin' I had with him."

  "And over the farmyard, I suppose anything you could make by selling anyextra animals you planted was your perquisite?"

  "Yes, sor."

  "Very well, Rafferty, that will do for to-night; get me those receiptedbills to-morrow morning. Come here at ten o'clock and we will have anothertalk."

  Rafferty went off, feeling more comfortable in his mind.

  The word Perquisites might be made to cover a multitude of sins, but hewould not have been so easy if he had known that Mrs. Driscoll had beencalled up immediately after his departure. Mrs. Driscoll was one of thoseterrible people who say nothing yet see everything; for the last year anda half she had been watching Rafferty; knowing it to be quite useless toreport what she knew to her easy-going master, she had, none the less,kept on watching. As a result, she was now able to bring up a hard fact, asmall hard fact more valuable than worlds of ductile evidence. Raffertyhad "nicked"--it was the lady's expression--a brand-new lawn mower.

  "I declare to God, sir, I don't know what he _has_ took, for me eyes can'tbe everywhere, but I do know he's took the mower."

  "Why did you not tell Miss Phyl?"

  "I did, sir, and she only said, 'Oh, there must be a mistake--what wouldhe be doin' with it,' says she. 'Sellin' it,' says I. 'Nonsense,' saysshe. You see, sir, Rafferty and she has always been hand in glove, whatwith the fishin' and shootin', and the horses and such like, and she won'thear a word against him."

  Mrs. Driscoll had called Rafferty a sly devil--he was.

  At eleven o'clock next morning, Phyl, crossing the stable yard with somesugar for the horses, met Rafferty. He was crying.

  "Why, what on earth's the matter, Rafferty?" asked the girl.

  "I've got the shove, miss," replied Rafferty, "after all me years ofservice, I'm put out to end me days in a ditch."

  "You mean you're discharged!" she cried. "Was it Mr. Pinckney?"

  "That's him," replied Rafferty. "Says he's the masther of us all. 'Out youget,' says he, 'or it's I that'll be callin' a p'leeceman to put you,'says he. Flung it in me face that I'd stolen a laan mower. Me that's benon the estate man and boy for forty year. A laan mower! Sure, Miss Phyl,what would I be doin' with a laan mower?"

  Phyl turned from him and ran to the house. Pinckney and Hennessey wereseated in the library when the door burst open and in came Phyl. Her eyeswere bright and her lips were pale.

  "You told me you would keep all the servants," said she. "Rafferty tellsme you have dismissed him."

  "I should think I had," said Pinckney lightly, and not gauging the maddisturbance of the other, "and it's lucky for him I haven't put him inprison."

  The word prison was all that was wanted to fire the mine. Pinckney stoodfor a moment aghast at the change in the girl.

  "I _hate_ you," she cried, coming a step closer to him. "I loatheyou--master of us all, are you? Dare to touch any one here and I'll burnthe house down with my own hands--you--you--"

  She paused for want of breath, her chest heaving and her hands clenched.

  Then Pinckney exploded.

  The good old fiery Pinckney blood was up. Oh, without any manner of doubtour ancestors are still able to speak, and it was old RoderickPinckney--"Pepper Pinckney" was his nickname--that blazed out now. It wasalso the fire of youth answering the fire of youth.

  "Damn it!" he cried. "I've come here to do my best--I don't care--keep whoyou want--be robbed if you like it--I'm off--" He caught up all the sheetsof paper he had been covering with figures and tore them across.

  "Beast!" cried Phyl.

  She rushed from the room and upstairs like a mad creature. The bang of herbedroom door closed the incident.

  "Now don't be taking on so," said Hennessey. "You've both of you lost yourtemper."

  "Lost my temper--maybe. I'm going all the same. Right back to the States.I'm off to Dublin by the next train and you'd better come and finish thebusiness there. You'd better have her to stay with you in Dublin. I don'twant to see her again. Anyhow, we'll settle all that later."

  "Maybe that's the best," said Hennessey. "My wife will look after her tillshe's ready to go to the States--if she wants to."

  "Please God she doesn't," replied the other.

  Phyl did not see Pinckney again. He went off to Dublin by the two-tentrain with Hennessey, the latter promising to be back on the morrow toarrange things.