The House of Strange Secrets: A Detective Story
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CHAPTER XIV
THE FIGURE IN THE MOONLIGHT
At last he was free from the horrors of that strange house--DurleyDene--and Laurence Carrington felt that for the moment he could breatheagain. Then he remembered the cause of his hasty departure from DoctorMeadows' handsome sitting-room.
Running like mad down the dark drive and up the avenue that led to hishome, he at length reached the front door of the Manse, opened it withhis latch-key, and passed through at the height of his speed.
No one was about. The passages were deserted. But from upstairs came thesound of loud weeping. He leaped up the staircase, never stopping untilhe reached the Squire's bedroom, the door of which was open.
On the floor just inside the room sat Mrs. Knox crying loudly. A femaleservant stood by her in an equally hysterical state.
Laurence brushed past them, entered the room, and approached theold-fashioned bed, round which stood the butler, the housekeeper, andLena.
On the bed, fully dressed, lay the body of his father, the Squire,stretched out in death. The face was a ghastly colour--a slaty shade ofblue. The veins in it stood out like strips of whalebone. The chestprotruded in an unnatural manner. The eyes were yet half opened. Thefingers clutched tightly at the bedclothes. There was no sign that anybreath remained in the old gentleman's body.
"Have you sent for Bathurst?" Laurence asked hoarsely, addressing thebutler.
"Yes, sir, I sent Head for the doctor and expect him every moment, butI'm afeard it's all up with the master. He was dead when I found him."
"Silence! He is not dead--he cannot be dead." And Laurence threw himselfon his knees beside the bed, and laid his hand gently over his father'sheart. But there was no perceptible movement.
The doctor, a big, powerful-looking man in a tweed suit, entered theroom a moment later.
"This is indeed terrible," he said to Laurence as he made his way to thebedside. Then he leant down and ripped open the Squire's shirt at theneck, and in his turn felt for any movement of the heart. He shook hishead ominously as he drew his hand away, and searching in his pocketproduced a small mirror, which he held for a moment before the prostrateman's mouth.
"No, he's not dead," he said quietly, after a short pause, "but in avery bad way indeed." Next he commenced giving his orders in animperative tone to the servants who were waiting in the doorway. One ofthe first was that Mrs. Knox and the hysterical housemaid should be atonce removed. Laurence whispered to Lena to take her aunt away, for thepoor woman was incapable of understanding what was said to her.
The girl seized his hand and pressed it as she went to do as he hadasked her. "Thank God," she murmured, "that you are safe," and the youngman knew that this was something of an answer to the question he had puta few brief hours before.
Dr. Bathurst was an able physician. He had all his wits about him anddid not lose them at the critical moment. Silently the butler andhousekeeper, as well as Laurence, carried out his instructions. In a fewmoments the Squire's evening clothes had been removed and he had beenplaced between the sheets. Then the struggle between death and medicalskill began, and so bravely did the doctor fight for the life of hispatient that after two long hours of watching and unceasing attendancehe was able to turn to Laurence, who had stood by his side throughoutthe vigil, and say, "He will live."
Then, at Bathurst's request, young Carrington left the sick-room toinform those who were waiting outside that the crisis was past.
"What had happened?" Laurence had asked himself time after time as hestood by the bedside. It must surely be that the second attempt on thehelpless old man's life had been made by his terrible foe--the attemptthat he had been dreading since that night on the moor.
Lena met him in the passage. She had prevailed upon her aunt to go tobed, and now was returning for news.
"Oh, isn't it awful to think of the fiend who has done this!" she cried,after learning that the Squire might yet live. "To think that yourfather is encompassed by a fearful, lurking danger, more horrible thanthat of the battle-field. What has he done? What does it all mean?"
But Laurence could not answer the question any better than she was ableto. Had he not been striving ever since the attack on the carriage todiscover what his father's secret was and why he stood in such mortaldanger? But he had failed. He was no nearer the solution of the mysteryafter his visit to Durley Dene than he had been before.
"How did it happen? Do you know?" he asked. They had moved along theunlighted corridor until an open landing window, looking upon the lawnat the rear of the house, was reached.
"I know practically nothing at all about the sad event. The Squire wentup to bed about an hour after you left, complaining of a headache. Hehad not been gone long when Kingsford appeared in a great state ofalarm, excitedly exclaiming that he had entered Mr. Carrington's bedroomto assist him in undressing and had found what he believed to be yourfather's murdered corpse lying on the floor."
"On the floor! Then we might have known he was not dead, for he wasclutching the sheets of the bed."
"Yes, he was laid on the bed directly I could get the butler to help me.Then I scribbled that note to you and sent Kingsford with it, much tohis surprise on learning where you were. The rest you know. But you--youescaped, then?"
"Yes, indeed, but I know no more than I did before I started."
"And Major Farnell?"
"Is a gentleman--a man of mystery. His real name is Meadows, or at leasthe says it is. He has a villain of a servant, who tried to frighten me,and, lastly, he has a secret. But whether he is the real enemy of mypoor father I do not know. His certainly was not the hand that wasraised against the Squire to-day, for I was with him when this secondattack must have been made."
"And the servant, was he in the room the whole time?" asked Lena,breathlessly.
"Great goodness, no! Why, who knows but that he is the man who wagessuch warfare against my father? And Meadows' secret is his knowledge ofhis man's mysterious connection with poor old dad! You're right; it mustbe so, Miss Scott. But," he lowered his voice to a whisper, "I havereturned from Durley Dene, and once again I ask you the question towhich you postponed your answer this morning."
"Hush!" replied the girl. "I cannot answer now, when death has come sonear to the house, and this dreadful mystery is yet unsolved. But----"
His hand stole softly to hers, which lay upon the window-sill.
"But the fact that you have not said 'no' shows me that my chance is notquite hopeless, is that it?" he asked tenderly.
"Yes," she replied in so low a whisper that had he been any farther fromher he would not have caught the welcome sound.
For a few moments neither spoke, then the girl withdrew her hand gentlyand whispered, "You must go back now and see how the dear old man is."
Suddenly she stopped short as she gazed out of the window upon theshadowy little panorama below. Laurence felt her fingers clutch his armas she exclaimed, under her breath--
"Look! there's a man creeping along the side of the yard. There, beyondthe lawn, just a few feet from the wall."
Laurence stared out into the semi-darkness in the direction towardswhich his companion was pointing.
She was right. There was somebody moving along towards the palisade onthe boundary between the Manse and Durley Dene. It was a man, gropingand crouching in the shadows, evidently fearing lest he should be seenfrom the house. At first it was too dark for the young man to recognisewho the midnight prowler was. But after a time, either when his eyesbecame accustomed to the dark or because the moon peeped out for amoment from behind her curtain of black clouds, he was able to see moreplainly, and as the doubled-up figure paused before disappearing throughthe bushes into the grounds of Durley Dene, Laurence had been able tocatch a glimpse of the features of the nocturnal visitor.
To his amazement he saw that the trespasser was none other than DoctorMeadows, alias Major Jones-Farnell!