The Crimson Blind

by Fred M. White

  CHAPTER LVI

  WHITE FANGS

  Henson took his weary way in the direction of Brighton. He had but a fewpounds he could call his own, and not nearly enough to get away from thecountry, and at any moment he might be arrested. He was afraid to go backto his lodgings for fear of Merritt. That Merritt would kill him if hegot the chance he felt certain. And Merritt was one of those dogged,patient types who can wait any time for the gratification of theirvengeance.

  Merritt was pretty certain to be hanging about for his opportunity. Onthe whole the best thing would be to walk straight to the CentralBrighton Station and take the first train in the morning to town. Therehe could see Gates--who as yet knew nothing--and from him it would bepossible to borrow a hundred or two, and then get away. And there wereothers besides Gates.

  Henson trudged away for a mile or so over the downs. Then he came downfrom the summit of the castle he was building with a rude shock to earthagain. A shadow seemed to rise from the ground, a heavy clutch was on hisshoulder, and a hoarse voice was in his ear.

  "Got you!" the voice said. "I knew they'd kick you out yonder, and Iguessed you'd sneak home across the downs. And I've fairly copped you!"

  Henson's knees knocked together. Physically he was a far stronger andbigger man than Merritt, but he was taken unawares, and his nerves hadbeen sadly shaken of late.

  Merritt forced him backwards until he lay on the turf with his antagonistkneeling on his chest. He dared not struggle, he dared not exert himself.Presently he might get a chance, and if he did it would go hard withJames Merritt.

  "What are you going to do?" he gasped.

  Merritt drew a big, jagged stone towards him with one foot.

  "I'm going to bash your brains out with this," he said, hoarsely. Hiseyes were gleaming, and in the dim light his mouth was set like a steeltrap. "I'm going to have a little chat with you first, and then down thiscomes on the top of your skull, and it'll smash you like a bloomin'eggshell. Your time's come, Henson. Say your prayers."

  "I can't," Henson whined. "And what have I done?"

  Merritt rocked heavily on the other's breastbone, almost stifling him."Wot?" he said, scoffingly. The pleasing mixture of gin and fog in histhroat rendered him more hideously hoarse than usual. "Not make up aprayer! And you a regular dab at all that game! Why, I've seen the womensnivellin' like babies when you've been ladlin' it out. Heavens, what achap you would be on the patter! How you would kid the chaplain!"

  "Merritt, you're crushing the life out of me."

  Merritt ceased his rocking for a moment, and the laughter died out of hisgleaming eyes.

  "I don't want to be prematoor," he said. "Yes, you'd make a lovelychaplain's pet, but I can't spare you. I'm going to smash that 'ere wilybrain of yours, so as it won't be useful any more. I'll teach you to putthe narks on to a poor chap like myself."

  "Merritt, I swear to you that I never--"

  "You can swear till you're black in the face, and you can keep onswearing till you're lily-white again, and then it won't be any good. Yougave me away to Taylor because you were afraid I should do you harm atLittimer Castle. That Daisy Bell of a girl there told me so."

  Henson groaned. It was not the least part of his humiliation that a meregirl got the better of him in this way. And what on earth had she knownof Reuben Taylor? But the fact remained that she had known, and that shehad warned Merritt of his danger. It was the one unpardonable crime inHenson's decalogue, the one thing Merritt could not forgive.

  Henson's time was come. He did not need anyone to tell him that. Unlesssomething in the nature of a miracle happened, he was a dead man in a fewmoments; and life had never seemed quite so sweet as it tasted at thepresent time.

  "You gave me away for no reason at all," Merritt went on. "I'm a prettybad lot, but I never rounded on a pal yet, and never shall. More than oneof them have served me bad, but I always let them go their own way, andI've been a good and faithful servant to you--"

  "It was not you," Henson gurgled, "that I wrote that letter about, but--"

  "Chuck it," Merritt said, furiously. "Tell me any more of your lies andI'll smash your jaw in for you. It _was_ me. I spotted Scotter in MoretonWells within a day or two. And Mr. Scotter had come for me. And I gotpast Bronson in Brighton by the skin of my teeth. I turned into yourlodgings under his very eyes almost. Before this time to-morrow I shallbe arrested. But I'm going to have my vengeance first."

  The last words came with intense deliberation. There was no mistakingtheir significance. Henson deemed it wise to try another tack.

  "I was wrong," he said, humbly. "I am very, very sorry; I lost my nerveand got frightened, Merritt. But there is time yet. You always make moremoney with me than with anybody else. And I'm going abroad presently."

  "Oh, you're going abroad, are you?" Merritt said, slowly. "Going totravel in a Pullman car and put up at all the Courts of Europe. And I'mcoming as chief secretary to the Grand Panjandrum himself. Sound analluring kind of programme."

  "I'll give you a hundred pounds to get away with if you will--"

  "Got a hundred pounds of my own in my pocket at the present moment," wasthe unexpected reply. "As you gave me away, consequently I gave you awayto his lordship, and he planked down a hundred canaries like the swellthat he is. So I don't want your company or your money. And I'm going tofinish you right away."

  The big stone was poised over Henson's head. He could see the jaggedpart, and in imagination feel it go smashing into his brain. The time foraction had come. He snatched at Merritt's right arm and drew the knottedfingers down. The next instant and he had bitten Merritt's thumb to thebone. With a cry of rage and pain the stone was dropped. Henson snatchedit up and fairly lifted Merritt off his chest with a blow under the chin.

  Merritt rolled over on the grass, and Henson was on his feet in aninstant. The great stone went down perilously near to Merritt's head.Still snarling and frothing from the pain Merritt stumbled to his feetand dashed a blow blindly at the other.

  In point of size and strength there was only one in it. Had Henson stoodup to his opponent on equal terms there could only have been one issue.But his nerves were shattered, he was nothing like the man he had beentwo months ago. At the first onslaught he turned and fled towards thetown, leaving Merritt standing there in blank amazement.

  "Frightened of me," he muttered. "But this ain't the way it's goingto finish."

  He darted off in hot pursuit; he raced across a rising shoulder of thehill and cut off Henson's retreat. The latter turned and scurried back inthe direction of Long-dean Grange, with Merritt hot on his heels. Hecould not shake the latter off.

  Merritt was plodding doggedly on, pretty sure of his game. He was hard asnails, whereas good living and a deal of drinking, quite in a gentlemanlyway, had told heavily on Henson. Unless help came unexpectedly Henson wasstill in dire peril. There was just a chance that a villager might beabout; but Longdean was more or less a primitive place, and most of thehouses there had been in darkness for hours.

  His foot slipped, he stumbled, and Merritt, with a whoop of triumph, wasnearly upon him. But it was only a stagger, and he was soon going again.Still, Merritt was close behind him; Henson could almost feel his hotbreath on his neck. And he was breathing heavily and distressfullyhimself, whilst he could hear how steadily Merritt's lungs were working.He could see the lights of Longdean Grange below him; but they seemed along way off, whilst that steady pursuit behind had something relentlessand nerve-destroying about it.

  They were pounding through the village now. Henson gave vent to one cryof distress, but nothing came of it but the mocking echo of his own voicefrom a distant belt of trees. Merritt shot out a short, sneering laugh.He had not expected flagrant cowardice like this. He made a sudden spurtforward and caught Henson by the tail of his coat.

  With a howl of fear the latter tore himself away, and Merritt reeledbackwards. He came down heavily over a big stone, and at the same momentHenson trod on a hedge-stake. He grabbed it up and half turned u
pon hisfoe. But the sight of Merritt's grim face was too much for him, and heturned and resumed his flight once more.

  He yelled again as he reached the lodge-gates, but the only response wasthe barking and howling of the dogs in the thick underwood beyond. Therewas no help for it. Doubtless the deaf old lodge-keeper had been in bedhours ago. Even the dogs were preferable to Merritt. Henson scrambledheadlong over the wall and crashed through the thickets beyond.

  Merritt pulled up, panting with his exertion.

  "Gone to cover," he muttered. "I don't fancy I'll follow. The dogs theremight have a weakness for tearing my throat out and Henson will keep,I'll just hang about here till daylight and wait for my gentleman. AndI'll follow him to the end of the earth."

  Meanwhile Henson blundered on blindly, fully under the impression thatMerritt was still upon his trail. One of the hounds, a puppy three partsgrown, rose and playfully pulled at his coat. It was sheer play, but atthe same time it was a terrible handicap, and in his fear Henson lost allhis horror of the dogs.

  "Loose, you brute," he panted. "Let go, I say. Very well, take that!"

  He paused and brought the heavy stake down full on the dog's muzzle.There was a snarling scream of pain, and the big pup sprang for hisassailant. An old, grey hound came up and seemed to take in the situationat a glance. With a deep growl he bounded at Henson and caught him by thethroat. Before the ponderous impact of that fine free spring Henson wentdown heavily to the ground.

  "Help!" he gurgled. "Help! help! help!"

  The worrying teeth had been firmly fixed, the ponderous weight pressedall the breath from Henson's distressed lungs. He gurgled once again,gave a little shuddering sigh, and the world dwindled to a thick sheet ofblinding darkness.