The Riddle of the Spinning Wheel

by Thomas W. Hanshew and Mary E. Hanshew

  CHAPTER XIX

  DOLLOPS MAKES A DISCOVERY

  The rest of the day passed comparatively uneventfully for all thoseconcerned in the drama of a night's doings, and save for a searchingscrutiny of the library by Cleek, carried out under the noses of thevillage policeman, with Inspector Campbell very much to the fore asbeing in command of the local constabulary and anxious to make a goodimpression upon the Yard's Superintendent (with an eye to futurepromotion), and the discovery of one or two minor details which hadpassed even his searching eye before, Cleek's time hung fairly heavilyupon his hands.

  Dollops, keen as mustard upon any task which involved the imagination ofhis beloved master, spent the rest of the afternoon and a goodly part ofthe long twilight in scampering over the countryside in pursuit ofvarious "facts," by the aid of a borrowed bicycle, which Mr. Fairnishhad charged him seven-and-sixpence for in advance, being obviouslydoubtful as to whether the young man would return it or not, forDollop's Cockney countenance was not one to breed immediate trust onsight.

  His efforts in this direction proved fairly fruitful, for after havingscraped acquaintance with one of the grooms at Captain Macdonald'sstables--the worthy Captain meanwhile champing furiously at the "bit"which kept him tethered to his present quarters for another night, whenthere were other affairs at his own place that wanted looking into--andin his own inimitable fashion managing to wangle an old letter writtenby his master to himself from the groom, Dollops, whistlingvociferously, came spinning back again to Aygon Castle to present hisfind to Cleek, and receive the reward in Cleek's instantly spokenpleasure.

  But to see Cleek was a different matter altogether. He had been told to"lie low" where Lady Paula was concerned, and not poke his nose inanything within reach of her ladyship's sharp eye. And as he did notpossess Cleek's marvellous birthright by which he was able to alter hiscountenance in the space of a second, and become to all intents andpurposes another man, Dollops was certainly "floored."

  "Better try rahnd the servants' quarters, an' see what I kin see there,"he decided after a brief survey of the land from an adjacent laurel bushwhich immediately faced the Castle. "The Gov'nor'll be ready ter splitmy nob open if I ups and goes inter the plyce by the front door, bless'is 'eart! And it's shorely the back door for the likes o' _you_,Dollops me lad! So here goes!"

  So to the servants' quarters went Dollops forthwith, and scrapedacquaintance with Jarvis, the butler, by offering him an impossiblecigar, and asking off-handedly for Mr. Deland in the meanwhile.

  "Dunno where 'e is at the moment," replied Jarvis, with a wink and asmile. "Seen 'im talkin' to the lydies only a few moments back, in thedrorin' room. But since then.... Lunnon chap, ain't yer?"

  "Yus!" Dollops's voice rang with pride of birthplace. He threw back hisnarrow chest and stuck his fingers in his waistcoat and surveyed hisinterlocutor with upthrown chin.

  "Well, so'm I. Come dahn with the family last January from their Lunnon'ouse. Park Mansion, it's called. Big plyce in Eton Square. Know thoseparts, I'll lay."

  "Every inch of 'em," vociferated Dollops with emphasis. "Luvly plyce,ain't it? They tells me yer got a ghost in this 'ouse, and blimey! I'mthat frightened ter meet 'er, me backbone's almost come rahnd ter mefront. 'Ugs the gentlemen at night, don't she?"

  Jarvis threw back his head and let his hearty laugh ring out over therafters of the servants' hall.

  "Wouldn't 'ug _you_, young 'un, not for nothing--if it were light enoughter see yer face by," he retorted with heavy wit. "But it's truth. Andthe wimmenfolk is that nervous at night there's no managing with 'emnohow. Some sprightly feller in a by-gone century went and man-'andled agirl from these parts an' carried 'er 'ere by force. Then 'e got 'erinto trouble, so the story goes, an' she up and stabbed 'erself with thespindle of her spinning wheel--that there contraption wot stands in thelibrary terd'y and makes a rare job er dustin' fer Minnie the under'ousemaid. She don't 'arf kick at it, I kin tell yer! Anyway, that was'ers! And we 'ad a footman 'ere last May wot fancied 'imself verypartickler as a braive bloke. Well, he says, says 'e, 'I'll sit upternight and go dahn by the dungeon door, where she's supposed ter comefrom, and see wot I kin see.' 'Course we laughed at him, and there was abit of friendly gamblin' done--_you_ know--an' I backed the blighter fora pound-note."

  "An' what 'appened?"

  "Ah, that's the scrub of it, as Shakespeare says, me lad. Young fool satup there, and then abaht three o'clock in the mornin' we 'eard 'im comea-screamin' ter 'is quarters, lookin' as pale as death. 'E said 'e'd'eard the Peasant Girl rustlin' abaht in her room, and the chink o'chains, and then the iron grille door began to open, and an unearthlyvoice called out,'Avaunt ye, varlet, or I'll break yer bones!' andthen.... 'E was off like a pea from a catapult, and that was the lastwe ever 'eard of 'is bravery. 'E gave notice next day, and forfeited amonth's money ter get away from the plyce. And I lost me money, ofcourse! That's wot comes of backin' a bad starter--mostly orlus losesyer money I find."

  During this enlightening recital Jarvis had been polishing the tablesilver, pausing between his task to relate the story, while Dollops'spale face went the colour of ivory, and the hair at the back of his neckbegan to prickle with fright.

  "Gawd's troof!" he ejaculated, stung to some show of feeling by thisgruesome tale. "Ain't that orful! 'Oo'd 'ave thought it? I wouldn'tspend a night down there fer a mint of money--would you, Guv'nor?"

  "Not if I knows it. But no one never does go dahn very often, only terthe wine-cellar. See that door there? Open that and you'll find a set o'stairs leadin' right down inter the cellar, and the rest of the pleasantlittle dungeon-places where they used ter put bad men like you an' me,my boy. Orl right in daytime, er course, an' nothin' much ter see. Andperfectly safe. 'Ave a squint, won' yer?--while I send a maid ter findyer gentleman. Quite a nifty little 'idin'-place 'twould be fer any one,but as safe as 'ouses in the daylight. _Go_ on. Ain't scared, are yer?"

  Now, if there is one thing in the world which is likely to upset anervous man more than anything, it is to be designated "scared" in thatprecise tone of voice. It is from such efforts that heroes are made.Dollops, whose heart had turned to water within him, found it instantlyhardening at the butler's joking tone, and the bantering look upon theman's rosy face settled the matter. He squared his shoulders and threwback his head, though his jaw was chattering like a chimpanzee's.

  "Course I ain't--stoopid!" he said stammeringly. "Show us the way, andI'm orf at once. Any other entrance but this one?"

  "Yes. Through the courtyard and down the stone steps. But it ain't neverused. Your gentleman went dahn yesterday mornin' with Miss Maud, justfor a bit of fun like. I'm needin' a couple er bottles er best port up,if you've a mind ter fetch 'em fer me, an' when yer gets back I'll giveyer a swallow er Burgundy ter warm yer. 'Ere's the keys. Bottom of thesteps and first door ter yer right. You'll see a lot of others, but Iwouldn't meddle with them if I was you. Them's _'er_ preserves. Ibelieve you're scared stiff--even at this time of day?"

  Dollops favoured him with a withering look, being perfectly unable tofind his voice, and then proceeded to the door with steady step, flungit open, and straightway began to descend the staircase to the cellar,his rubber-soled shoes making no sound upon the wooden stairs withtheir carpeting of thick felt and with his heart literally in his gapingmouth. Down, down, down the stairs led him, and then he heard a laughfrom the top of them, turning suddenly to see Jarvis's smiling faceabove, framed in the open doorway, heard the door slam loudly, and thekey grate in the lock, and realized that he had been the victim of apleasant little practical joke.

  The palms of his hands went wet. He felt a mad impulse to bound up thestairs again and hammer upon the door until he gained admittance, buthis pride held him back.

  "No, I'll see 'im in 'ell first, the blinkin' practical joker!" heapostrophized the absent butler in tones of blackest rage, and then,curiosity getting the better of him, seeing that there was no otheralternative but to go down and then return by the _other_ way, "whichwas scarcel
y ever used," proceeded on his journey into blackness, whichgrew each second more black, until he was stepping carefully, with onehand pressed against the stone of the wall and his eyes goggling throughthe darkness from sheer fright.

  He reached the bottom of the stairs at last, and paused to take breath.He was as winded as a spent runner, and as white as a sheet, andtrembling in every limb. The place was as black as a pocket, save forwhere, through a grille-door on the left-hand side of him (which wasactually supposed to be her door, if he had but known it, and ledthrough to the torture-chamber which Cleek himself had traversed), asingle candle shone with a pale, sickly light, sending a tiny shaft inhis direction, though, with peering through at it, he could only justsee its vague outline in some room beyond.

  "Gawdamassy!" he ejaculated, his eyes fairly popping out of his head atthis sight. "Someun's 'ere, that's a fact! And from what I knows erghosts, they shine wiv a more unearthly light than wot comes from acandle in a bottle. Now, 'oo the dickens----"

  But his searchings after light on this subject were cut off short by thesound of softly speaking voices creeping to him through that grilleddoor, and coming from some long distance away within it. He darted backagainst the wall and, groping with his hands, found a cupboard doorajar, slipped into it, and drew himself up taut against the inner wall,and waited for that which might come to pass, every nerve a-tremble, hiseyes fixed upon the crack of the door, which at present showed black asa pocket.

  The soft voices continued--men's voices, too, and one with the changinginflections of the foreigner.

  "Blinkin' German!" thought Dollops excitedly. "Or a Chink! Don't knowthe difference between their parley-vous meself, but it's orl alike wiv_foreigners_. But the other 'un--'e's English orl right. Never 'eard'is voice before, that's certain! Gawd! they're comin' out now, an' Iprays 'eaven they ain't a jossin' ter fetch nuffin' from this 'erecupboard, or little Dollops's number'll be up with a vengeance! I don'tfancy bein' done in by a blinkin' pigtail, neither! Nah!--then! Keepstill, Dollops, me boy, and stop yer tremblin'. You'll 'ave the 'ousea-shakin' in a minit, an' they'll fink it's a earfquake instead of aboy-quake--strite they will!"

  Having wrestled himself into some sort of quiet of heart and brain,Dollops continued to lie in wait until the strangers had come outthrough the grilled door, and stood a moment with the candle betweenthem, talking in low tones, and glancing occasionally up the flight ofstairs by which he had only just descended. One of them had his back tohim, but the other's face was in full view. It was a dark,swarthy-skinned face, with black eyes and crisp black moustache curlingupon the upper lip, the slim nose and aquiline features revealing to thewatching lad the very evident fact that here was a genuine Italian.

  And the other? He'd seen that tweed coat before, surely--but where?Where? He racked his brains to think. Somewhere that tweed coat hadcrossed his vision once before during that day, and in someunaccountable manner it was associated in his mind with Sir Ross Dugganhimself....

  The men moved quietly, blew out the candle, and then opened the dooropposite and began to climb up the stone stairway into the fresh air,creeping about like mice.

  Meanwhile Dollops, afraid no longer, and all his being afire to get tohis master with news of this new development--and so make up for hisslowness this afternoon, when the lady had so successfully given him theslip right here within his reach--stood stock-still, raking every cornerof that fertile young brain of his for the clue which eluded him.

  And then--quite suddenly--he _knew_.