handsome,with an air of self-conceit, and a slightly cockney accent in her voice,which told me that she was not quite so well bred as one might haveexpected the mistress of Whitton to have been.
Bullen apologised for being compelled to intrude upon her privacy, butexplained that it was necessary to make searching inquiries into thepainful affair, and he would therefore esteem it a favour if she wouldanswer one or two questions.
To this she assented willingly, and, asking us to be seated, sank intoan armchair.
The detective had not introduced me, therefore she no doubt believed meto be an emissary of Scotland Yard.
"Have you any idea of the hour at which the Colonel left the house?"asked Bullen.
"No. I think, however, it must have been about half-past ten," sheresponded in a hard voice.
I was watching her carefully, and saw by the nervous twitching of herhands that she was striving to calm the conflicting emotions within her.She kept her eyes--beautiful eyes of almost a violet tint--fixed uponher examiner.
"But if he went out as early as that, you would surely wonder why he didnot return?" observed the detective.
"Ah, no," she said quickly. "I was in ignorance of his absence until--until my maid awoke me at a quarter-past five this morning, and told meof the awful discovery."
She pursed her lips very slightly. That almost imperceptible movementaroused my suspicions. I had been told that she was on bad terms withthe dead man, and probably that had prejudiced me against her.
"Then he went out without your knowledge? Will you kindly tell me howyou spent the evening?!"
"How I spent the evening?" she asked with a slight start.
"I mean how you all spent the evening," he said, correcting himself."You had guests here, I understand."
"Yes; we had quite a number of people. And after dinner, as usual, themen played billiards and smoked, while we women remained in thedrawing-room. About half-past nine the men joined us, a couple ofdances were played, some songs were sung, and the evening passed withoutfurther event, as far as I am aware."
"But your husband?"
"Well, about half-past ten he came to me and said that he was notfeeling very well, therefore he should go to his room."
"And you never again saw him alive?"
"No," she faltered. "When I saw him again he was down in the hall.Some men were carrying him in--dead! Oh, it's awful! I--I can'trealise it!" And she burst into a torrent of tears.
"It certainly is a most painful affair," said Bullen, sympathetically;"but we are striving our utmost to solve the mystery. Therefore, Itrust you will forgive me for seeking this interview. Whateverinformation you can give us will assist us very materially in ourinquiries."
"I don't think I can tell you anything more," declared the distressedwoman.
"But what is your theory? Do you believe that the announcement that hewas not feeling well was a mere excuse for absence?"
"Ah, that I cannot tell," she responded. "The house was locked up atmidnight, and it was evident that he was out then, for this morning allthe doors were bolted, and the windows were found fastened, just as theservants had left them."
"Well," he said, "that shows that he went out before the house waslocked up. Were any of the other guests out in the park?"
"Not to my knowledge," she replied, after a second's hesitation. "Ofcourse the men went out upon the drive in front of the house, and walkedup and down to smoke after dinner."
"From your statement it would almost appear as though your husband wentout to keep some secret appointment. Have you any suspicion that he hadarranged to meet any one?"
"None whatever."
"And he had never mentioned to you any single person with whom he was atenmity?"
"Never."
"I presume that most of the guests who were here last night have sinceleft?"
"All have left. I am practically alone."
"I shall be glad if, as soon as you can do so, you will kindly make meout a list of your guests, together with their addresses. We may notrequire it, but in this matter we must not overlook a single point."
"But surely you don't suspect any of them?" she exclaimed quickly.
"We suspect no one, at present," he responded. "But in order toprosecute our inquiries satisfactorily, it is necessary to know exactlywho was in the house at the time of the tragedy."
"Oh, of course--of course," she said. "I will make out the list and letyou have it in the course of an hour--if that will do?"
"Excellent," the detective said.
Bullen glanced across to a half-open door, which appeared to giveentrance to the library, saying--
"If you will permit us, we will examine the Colonel's papers; they maygive us some clue. It is just possible that he received a letter makingthe appointment in the park."
"You are quite at liberty to act just as you think best," she answeredwith perfect frankness.
He thanked her, and then tactfully turned the conversation back to theevents of the previous night. It might have been owing to the prejudicewhich I entertained towards her, but somehow she seemed anxious to avoidany remark regarding the period immediately preceding the tragedy.Naturally a wife whose husband has been foully assassinated in a mannerso mysterious, would look back in horror upon past events; but in somestrange, indefinite way she seemed to hold our presence in dread.
Bullen, not slow to notice this, continued to ply her with questions inorder to obtain further details of how the hours after dinner had beenspent.
"Who saw your husband last?" he inquired.
"I don't know for certain. I believe it was one of the guests--a MrDurrant, with whom he had played billiards."
"After he had complained to you of not feeling well?"
"No; he played billiards before," she answered. Then readily added, "Onleaving me he returned to the billiard-room to fetch his cigar-case. Itwas then he wished Mr Durrant good-night."
"Did he tell him, also, that he was unwell?"
"Yes, I believe so. But Mr Durrant sent a card of sympathy to my roomand left without seeing me. I therefore only know this by hearsay fromthe servants."
"You have a stepson--Lieutenant Chetwode. Where was he?"
"With me in the drawing-room. Ah! here he comes." And at that moment athin, dark-haired, well-set-up young man entered, eyeing us with aninquiring glance.
This, then, was my wife's lover.
Briefly the widow explained who we were, and, in reply to Bullen'squestions, the dead man's son described how his father had managed toslip out unobserved, and how his absence had passed unnoticed until theawful discovery had been made in the morning.
"You have no suspicion that he had any enemy, I suppose?" the detectiveasked.
"None whatever. The terrible affair is a most profound mystery."
"Yes," said Bullen reflectively, his grey eyes fixed upon those of thewidow; "it's a mystery we must try to solve."
"I hope you will," the young man exclaimed. "My father has fallenbeneath the hands of some cowardly assassin concealed in those bushesdown by the lake--he was the victim of the revenge of some personunknown."
"What makes you think the motive was revenge?" inquired the detective,quick to scent any clue.
The widow and her stepson exchanged rapid glances. I was watching, andit occurred to me that some secret understanding existed between them.My friend of the _Red Lion_ had declared that they were enemies, but tome it certainly appeared as though they were acting in complete accord.
"Oh," responded Cyril Chetwode, rather lamely, "I merely suppose that."
"Revenge for what?"
"Ah! if we only knew the reason it would not be difficult to find themurderer," answered the man who loved my wife. "It may be that someperson sought revenge for an imaginary grievance."
"But why was the Colonel walking at that lonely spot at that hour? Hemust have had an object. It looks suspiciously as though he went tokeep a secret appointment. The excuse that he was
ill seems to havebeen made with a view to securing his room from intruders who mightdisturb him."
"He may have kept an appointment," his son replied. "But only hehimself could tell us the truth."
The detective acquiesced, and after some further conversation, in whichI joined, he rose, and passing through into the library, commenced anexamination of the papers lying on the writing-table. With my rival inthe affections of the woman who was my wife, I assisted him, while thewidow stood behind us watching, her face pale and anxious and hernervous hands trembling.
She was in fear. Of that I felt absolutely
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