by J. J. Bell
CHAPTER XII
Alan Craig, as he afterwards stated, had entered Grey House at a quarterbefore midnight; the clock had attracted his attention as soon as he litthe candles. The candles, he had noticed, had been used not longpreviously, for the wicks were softish, and he had been aware of an odourof tobacco, not stale, in the atmosphere of the study. These two littlediscoveries had been sufficient to end the incipient idea induced by thestillness and chilliness that the house might be temporarily uninhabited.
Less than half an hour prior to Alan's arrival, the man Marvel left byunbolting the outer door. He had entered by cutting through a lightlybarred window at the back, and would have retired by the same way but forthe fact that he had wounded one of his hands rather severely, and couldnot risk disturbing his rough and hasty bandage.
But though injured and drenched to the skin, and facing a long tramp inthe vilest of weather, he turned from the gates of Grey House in a fairlycheerful temper. He had done the job and done it easily. The Green Boxreposed in his suit case, and would fetch four hundred pounds ondelivery. Only four hundred pounds? Well, Mr. Bullard had named that sum,but perhaps--and Mr. Marvel grinned against the gale--Mr. Bullard was notgoing to get off quite so cheaply. To Marvel's sort, possession is notjust a miserable nine points of the law: it is all the law and as much ofthe profits as trickery can extract.
No, no!--he stumbled in the almost pitch darkness, and cursedbriefly--Mr. Bullard was not going to handle his Green Box for much lessthan a thousand pounds! If only the key had been available, reflectedthis choice specimen of humanity, he would have had a look at thecontents. Papers, Mr. Bullard had said--more incriminating documents, nodoubt! Mr. Bullard was a very nice man, he was, but he could not alwayshave it his own way. Mr. Bullard ...
A sound in, but not of, the storm, muttered in Marvel's ears. Peeringahead, he descried a small light. He was passing a wood at the time, andthe windy tumult as well as the roaring from the loch made confusion forhis hearing; but presently he recognised the intruding sound as thethrobbing of a motor. "Some silly fool got a breakdown," he was thinkingsympathetically, when a terrific gust caught and fairly staggered him.Ere he fully recovered balance and breath something cold and clammy fellupon his face, was dragged down over his shoulders and arms, blinding,pinioning him. The suit case was rudely wrenched from his hand; he wasviolently pushed and tripped; and with a stifled yell he fell heavily onthe footpath and rolled into the brimming gutter.... By the time heregained footing, the use of eyes and ears, there was no light visible,no sound save that of wrathful nature.
* * * * *
In the doctor's study it was the host who undertook the duty of breakingto Alan the news of his uncle's death; it was Caw who informed him of theold man's thought for him during the last year of life, on the very lastday of it.
"You must understand, sir," the servant added, "that from the day afteryou went away my master was living not in his own house, but in yours. Itpleased him to think of it that way, sir. 'I am not leaving my nephewanything,' he used to say to me; 'I have given him what I had to give.'He always believed in your safe return, though to others it seemed soimpossible. There are many things to be told--you have already witnessedsomething that must have puzzled you, sir--but with your permission Iwill say no more till tomorrow, when I have got my wits together again,as it were."
"I think I can keep my curiosity under till then, Caw," said the youngman, "and, to tell the truth, I don't feel equal to talking about myUncle Christopher's affairs just yet. But if Dr. Handyside isn't tootired, I'd like to explain without delay why I made a secret of myexistence, also why I came home--well, like a thief in the night." Heglanced a little quizzingly at Marjorie, who blushed and retortedgood-humouredly--
"Don't you think you owe me--us--the explanation, Mr. Craig?"
"Mr. Craig owes us nothing," Handyside said; "and I ought to remind himthat while we were his uncle's friends--his most intimate friends, Imight say, these five years--we are now, in a sense, intruders who haveno claim whatever on Mr. Craig's confidence. Further"--the doctor's tonebecame rueful--"I fear I am greatly to blame--"
Alan interposed, "I want you to accept my confidence. I came homeexpecting to find myself as poor as when I went to the Arctic, and now Ifind my good uncle has altered all that, and in my new circumstances Imay decide to change certain plans I had made. But I must first putmyself right with my uncle's friends as well as his trusted servant. I'llmake a short story of it--just the bare facts."
"As you will," said the doctor. "Caw, take a chair."
"If I may say so, sir, I prefer to stand."
"Caw," said Miss Handyside, "take a chair."
"Very good, miss," said Caw, and seated himself near the door.
"As I learned by consulting old newspapers on the other side," said Alan,"the expedition returned home safely at the time appointed; but I wasreported lost--lost while out hunting. I'll start from that huntingepisode, though trifling incidents had happened before then, which ought,perhaps, to have put me on the alert. One of the best shots, if not thebest, in the expedition was a man named Flitch. Like myself, he joined inplace of another man, almost at the last moment. He was a roughcharacter, and his position was merely that of an odd-job man, but I mustsay he did most things well, especially in the mechanical line. He and Ihad frequently made hunting excursions together, but always with one ortwo other members of the party. And now, for the first time, we went outfrom the camp alone."
"Oh!" murmured Marjorie.
"We tramped an unusually long way from the camp--at Flitch's instigation,as I recognised afterwards; but in the end we were rewarded by coming ona fine bear. 'You take first shot,' said Flitch, in his curt, sullenfashion. I did, and was lucky. But the gun was not down from my shoulderwhen Flitch deliberately shot me in the back--not with his gun, but witha revolver he had never shown before--"
"The dirty hound!" growled Caw.
"I fell, feeling horribly sick, and as I lay I saw him toss the revolverinto a seal hole. Then, as he stood staring at me, I must have fainted."
"The beast!" cried Marjorie.
"When I came to myself--how long I remained unconscious, I never learnedexactly--I was on a sort of bed, and an aged Eskimo was bending over me.I had been picked up by a couple of his party out after seals. I musthave lain there for weeks under the care of that queer old medicine manwho, somehow, contrived to doctor or bewitch me back from the grave, forthe wound was rather a bad one. The Eskimos treated me very decently, andit was not till I was convalescent that I realised I was their prisoner.I rather think they must have fled with me from the search partymentioned in the newspapers. The tribe, as far as I could gather, had agrudge against white men in general, though not against any person inparticular. Well, I practically became one of them for the winter thatfollowed. In time I grew fit and ready for anything, but they had annexedmy gun and other belongings, which left me pretty helpless. However, Ihad the luck to save one of the young men during a tussle with a bear,and he was absurdly grateful. Eventually he planned a way of escape andguided me, after a good many mishaps, to an American whaler that had beencompelled to winter in the ice. I told the skipper most of my story, butbegged him to keep it quiet from the others, and between us we invented aplausible enough tale for the crew. The ship came out of the ice allright, but was wrecked, by running ashore, on the homeward trip. Some ofus got to land and found our way into British Columbia. I had enoughmoney to take me across Canada, but when I got to Montreal I waspenniless. I took any jobs that offered until I had scraped togetherenough for a steerage ticket home--"
"But my master would have sent anything you had asked for!"exclaimed Caw.
"I did not doubt it. Only, you see, I was desperately afraid of myexistence getting known, and--"
"But why?"--from the impulsive Marjorie.
"An obsession, if you like," said Alan with a grave smile. "During allthe time of my convalescence, and in all the periods of leisure t
hatfollowed, I kept wondering what on earth had made Flitch want to kill me.We had never had anything like a quarrel, and what had he to gain by mydeath? He had robbed me of nothing. It's a great big 'Why,' and I've gotto find the answer to it. But I'm keeping you from bed."
"Go ahead," said Handyside. "Have you no suspicions?"
"I have; but they seem a bit far-fetched, especially now that I'm home.At any rate, I dare not mention them yet.... I arrived in Glasgow thisafternoon, and got made as civilised-looking as was possible in a coupleof hours. I had intended coming on here by rail and steamer, but anout-of-date time-table deceived me, and too late I found that the winterservice just started gave no train after five. At the hotel theysuggested motoring, and after a meal I started on what seemed a firstrate car. But we had a breakdown lasting an hour, a dozen miles out ofGlasgow, and then, running down Garelochside in the face of the storm, wesmashed into the ditch. After making sure that the car was hopeless, Ileft the man at a wayside cottage and tramped the rest of the way. Hencemy late arrival, and you know the rest."
"May I ask," said Caw, "if you met anybody on the road--near home, Imean?"
"I passed a person who seemed to be intoxicated, if judged by his violentlanguage, but in the darkness and the rain we must have been practicallyinvisible to each other."
"If he was using bad language, sir," said Caw, rising, "he was certainlynot the party I am thinking of. May I retire, gentlemen?" he inquired,glancing towards Miss Handyside.
"Yes, Caw. You will have much to tell Mr. Craig to-morrow," said thedoctor. "I leave it to you to explain why you were absent to-night. Idoubt I shall never get over it."
Caw made a stiff little inclination, saying, "My fault alone, sir,"and went out.
"There goes a good and faithful servant," remarked Handyside; "and a goodchauffeur, too," he added with a heavy sigh.
"Mr. Craig," said Marjorie, breaking a silence, "do you wish us toregard you as non-existent--I mean to say, do you wish your return to bekept a secret?"
"I'm going to sleep on that question, Miss Handyside," he replied.
"I can keep a secret rather well, and I believe father can, too," shesaid. "Won't you tell us whom you sus--"
"Marjorie," the doctor interposed, "the lateness of the hour is tellingon your discretion."
"I'm afraid it is." She got up, went to her bureau, scribbled somethingon a half sheet of paper, folded it neatly, and presented it to Alan."Don't look at it till you are in your room," she said softly. "Goodnight, and sleep well."
Ten minutes later, in the guest's bedroom, Alan opened the paper and readthe words--
"Mr. Bullard?"