The House of Whispers

by William Le Queux

  CHAPTER XXXV

  DISCLOSES A SECRET

  The grey mists were still hanging upon the hills of Glencardine,although it was already midday, for it had rained all night, andeverywhere was damp and chilly.

  Gabrielle, in her short tweed skirt, golf-cape, and motor-cap, hadstrolled, with Walter Murie at her side, from the house along thewinding path to the old castle. From the contented expression upon herpale, refined countenance, it was plain that happiness, to a greatextent, had been restored to her.

  When he had gone to Woodnewton it was to fetch her back to Glencardine.He had asked for an explanation, it was true; but when she had refusedone he had not pressed it. That he was puzzled, sorely puzzled, wasapparent.

  At first, Sir Henry had point-blank refused to receive his daughter. Buton hearing her appealing voice he had to some extent relented; and,though strained relations still existed between them, yet happiness hadcome to her in the knowledge that Walter's affection was still as strongas ever.

  Young Murie had, of course, heard from his mother the story told by LadyHeyburn concerning the offence of her stepdaughter. But he would notbelieve a single word against her.

  They had been strolling slowly, and she had been speaking expressing herheartfelt thanks for his action in taking her from that life of awfulmonotony at Woodnewton. Then he, on his part, had pressed her soft handand repeated his promise of lifelong love.

  They had entered the old grass-grown courtyard of the castle, whensuddenly she exclaimed, "How I wish, Walter, that we might elucidate thesecret of the Whispers!"

  "It certainly would be intensely interesting if we could," he said, "Themost curious thing is that my old friend Edgar Hamilton, who issecretary to the well-known Baron Conrad de Hetzendorf, tells me that asimilar legend is current in connection with the old chateau in Hungary.He had heard the Whispers himself."

  "Most remarkable!" she exclaimed, gazing blankly around at the ponderouswalls about her.

  "My idea always has been that beneath where we are standing there mustbe a chamber, for most mediaeval castles had a subterranean dungeonbeneath the courtyard."

  "Ah, if we could only find entrance to it!" cried the girlenthusiastically. "Shall we try?"

  "Have you not often tried, and failed?" he asked laughingly.

  "Yes, but let's search again," she urged. "My strong belief is thatentrance is not to be obtained from this side, but from the glen downbelow."

  "Yes, no doubt in the ages long ago the hill was much steeper than itnow is, and there were no trees or undergrowth. On that side it wasimpregnable. The river, however, in receding, silted up much earth andboulders at the bend, and has made the ascent possible."

  Together they went to a breach in the ponderous walls and peered downinto the ancient river-bed, now but a rippling burn.

  "Very well," replied Murie, "let us descend and explore."

  So they retraced their steps until, when about half-way to the house,they left the path and went down to the bottom of the beautiful glenuntil they were immediately beneath the old castle.

  The spot was remote and seldom visited. Few ever came there, for it wasapproached by no path on that side of the burn, so that the keepersalways passed along the opposite bank. They had no necessity topenetrate there. Besides, it was too near the house.

  Through the bracken and undergrowth, passing by big trees that in theages had sprung up from seedlings dropped by the birds or sown by thewinds, they slowly ascended to the frowning walls far above--the wallsthat had withstood so many sieges and the ravages of so many centuries.

  Half a dozen times the girl's skirt became entangled in the briars, andonce she tore her cape upon some thorns. But, enjoying the adventure,she went on, Walter going first and clearing a way for her as best hecould.

  "Nobody has ever been up here before, I'm quite certain," Gabriellecried, halting, breathless, for a moment. "Old Stewart, who says heknows every inch of the estate, has never climbed here, I'm sure."

  "I don't expect he has," declared her lover.

  At last they found themselves beneath the foundations of one of theflanking-towers of the castle walls, whereupon he suggested that if theyfollowed the wall right along and examined it closely they mightdiscover some entrance.

  "I somehow fear there will not be any door on the exposed side," headded.

  The base of the walls was all along hidden by thick undergrowth,therefore the examination proved extremely difficult. Nevertheless,keenly interested in their exploration, the pair kept on struggling andclimbing until the perspiration rolled off both their faces.

  Suddenly, Walter uttered a cry of surprise. "Why, look here! This seemslike a track. People _have_ been up here after all!"

  And his companion saw that from the burn below, up through the bushes,ran a narrow winding path, which showed little sign of frequent use.

  Walter went on before her, quickly following the path until it turned atright-angles and ended before a low door of rough wood which filled asmall breach in the wall--a breach made, in all probability, at the lastsiege in the early seventeenth century.

  "This must lead somewhere!" cried Walter excitedly; and, lifting theroughly constructed wooden latch, he pushed the door open, disclosing acavernous darkness.

  A dank, earthy smell greeted their nostrils. It was certainly an uncannyplace.

  "By Jove!" cried Walter, "I wonder where this leads to?" And, taking outhis vestas, he struck one, and, holding it before him, went forward,passing through the breach in the broken wall into a stone passage whichled to the left for a few yards and gave entrance to exactly whatGabrielle had expected--a small, windowless stone chamber probably usedin olden days as a dungeon.

  Here they found, to their surprise, several old chairs, a rough tableformed of two deal planks upon trestles, and a couple of half-burnedcandles in candlesticks which Gabrielle recognised as belonging to thehouse. These were lit, and by their aid the place was thoroughlyexamined.

  Upon the floor was a heap of black tinder where some papers had beenburnt weeks or perhaps months ago. There were cigar-ends lying about,showing that whoever had been there had taken his ease.

  In a niche was a small tin box containing matches and fresh candles,while in a corner lay an old newspaper, limp and damp, bearing a datesix months before. On the floor, too, were a number of pieces ofpaper--a letter torn to fragments.

  They tried to piece it together, laying it upon the table carefully, butwere unsuccessful in discovering its import, save that it was inRussian, from somebody in Odessa, and addressed to Sir Henry.

  Carrying the candles in their hands, they went into the narrow passageto explore the subterranean regions of the old place. But neither waycould they proceed far, for the passage had fallen in at both ends andwas blocked by rubbish. The only exit or entrance was by that narrowbreach in the walls so cunningly concealed by the undergrowth and closedby the rudely made door of planks nailed together. Above, in the stoneroof of the chamber, there was a wide crack running obliquely, andthrough which any sound could be heard in the courtyard above.

  They remained in the narrow, low-roofed little cell for a fullhalf-hour, making careful examination of everything, and discussing theprobability of the Whispers heard in the courtyard above emanating fromthat hidden chamber.

  For what purpose was the place used, and by whom? In all probability itwas the very chamber in which Cardinal Setoun had been treacherouslydone to death.

  Though they made a most minute investigation they discovered nothingfurther. Up to a certain point their explorations had been crowned bysuccess, yet the discovery rather tended to increase the mystery thandiminish it.

  That the Whispers were supernatural Gabrielle had all along refused tobelieve. The question was, to what use that secret chamber was put?

  At last, more puzzled than ever, the pair, having extinguished thecandles, emerged again into the light of day, closing and latching thelittle door after them.

  Then, following the narrow secret
path, they found that it wound throughthe bushes, and emerged by a circuitous way some distance along theglen, its entrance being carefully concealed by a big lichen-coveredboulder which hid it from any one straying there by accident. So nearwas it to the house, and so well concealed, that no keeper had everdiscovered it.

  "Well," declared Gabrielle, "we've certainly made a most interestingdiscovery this morning. But I wonder if it really does solve the mysteryof the Whispers?"

  "Scarcely," Walter admitted. "We have yet to discover to whom the secretof the existence of that chamber is known. No doubt the Whispers areheard above through the crack in the roof. Therefore, at present, we hadbetter keep our knowledge strictly to ourselves."

  And to this the girl, of course, agreed.

  They found Sir Henry seated alone in the sunshine in one of the bigbay-windows of the drawing-room, a pathetic figure, with his blank,bespectacled countenance turned towards the light, and his fingersbusily knitting to employ the time which, alas! hung so heavily upon hishands.

  Truth to tell, with Flockart's influence upon him, he was not quiteconvinced of the sincerity of either Gabrielle or Walter Murie.Therefore, when they entered, and his daughter spoke to him; hisgreeting was not altogether cordial.

  "Why, dear dad, how is it you're sitting here all alone? I would havegone for a walk with you had I known."

  "I'm expecting Goslin," was the old man's snappy reply. "He left Parisyesterday, and should certainly have been here by this time. I can'tmake out why he hasn't sent me a 'wire' explaining the delay."

  "He may have lost his connection in London," Murie suggested.

  "Perhaps so," remarked the Baronet with a sigh, his fingers movingmechanically.

  Murie could see that he was unnerved and unlike himself. He, of course,was unaware of the great interests depending upon the theft of thosepapers from his safe. But the old man was anxious to hear from Goslinwhat had occurred at the urgent meeting of the secret syndicate inParis.

  Gabrielle was chatting gaily with her father in an endeavour to cheerhim up, when suddenly the door opened, and Flockart, still in histravelling ulster, entered, exclaiming, "Good-morning, Sir Henry."

  "Why, my dear Flockart, this is really quite unexpected. I--I thoughtyou were abroad," cried the Baronet, his face brightening as hestretched out his hand for his visitor to grasp.

  "So I have been. I only got back to town yesterday morning, and leftEuston last night."

  "Well," said Sir Henry, "I'm very glad you are here again. I've missedyou very much--very much indeed. I hope you'll make another long staywith us at Glencardine."

  The man addressed raised his eyes to Gabrielle's.

  She looked him straight in the face, defiant and unflinching. The day ofher self-sacrifice to protect her helpless father's honour and welfarehad come. She had suffered much in silence--suffered as no other girlwould suffer; but she had tried to conceal the bitter truth. Her spirithad been broken. She was obsessed by one fear, one idea.

  For a moment the girl held her breath. Walter saw the sudden change inher countenance, and wondered.

  Then, with a calmness that was surprising, she turned to her father, andin a clear, distinct voice said, "Dad, now that Mr. Flockart hasreturned, I wish to tell you the truth concerning him--to warn you thathe is not your friend, but your very worst enemy!"

  "What is that you say?" cried the man accused, glaring at her. "Repeatthose words, and I will tell the whole truth about yourself--here,before your lover!"

  The blind man frowned. He hated scenes. "Come, come," he urged, "pleasedo not quarrel. Gabrielle, I think, dear, your words are scarcely fairto our friend."

  "Father," she said firmly, her face pale as death, "I repeat them. Thatman standing there is as much your enemy as he is mine!"

  Flockart laughed satirically. "Then I will tell my story, and let yourfather judge whether you are a worthy daughter," he said.