by G. A. Henty
“Possibly so, Mr. Henderson; but in that case, why did he not keep among the trees both coming and going, instead of exposing himself, as he must have done running here; for the hedge is thin, and any one walking along, much less driving, could have seen him.”
Mr. Henderson looked at Frank with a closer scrutiny than he had before given him.
“You are an acute observer, Mr. Wyatt. The point is an important one. A man wishing to avoid observation would certainly have kept among the trees. Now, let us follow these footprints along; we may learn something further.”
Presently they came to the point where Julian had come out from the wood.
“You see he was in the wood, Mr. Wyatt,” the constable said.
“I quite see that,” Frank said. “If these are the marks of Julian’s boots—and I think they are—we have now found out that he came out of the wood at this point, ran for some purpose or other, and without an attempt at concealment, as far as the hedge; then turned and ran back again, past the point where he had left the wood. Now let us see what he did afterwards—it may give us a clue to the whole matter.”
Fifty yards further they came on the spot where Julian had turned off on the poacher’s track.
“There it is, Mr. Henderson!” Frank exclaimed triumphantly. “Another man came out of the wood here—a man with roughly-made boots with hob-nails. That man came out first; that is quite evident. The tracks are all in a line, and Julian’s are in many places on the top of the other’s. They were both running fast. But if you look you will see that Julian’s strides are the longest, and, therefore, he was probably running the fastest.”
“It is as you say, Mr. Wyatt. The lighter footprints obliterate those of the heavier boots in several places. What can be the meaning of this, and what can the second man have been doing in the wood?”
“The whole thing is perfectly plain to me,” Frank said excitedly. “Julian was in the road, he heard the report of the gun close by in the wood, and perhaps heard a cry; he jumped over the hedge and made for the spot, and possibly, as Mr. Faulkner said, ran into the drive and stooped over him; then he started in pursuit of the murderer, of whom he may possibly have obtained a sight. There was not enough snow under the trees for him to follow the footprints, he therefore ran to the edge of the wood, and then to the road, in search of the man’s track. Then he turned and ran back again till he came upon them leaving the wood, and then set off in pursuit.”
“By Jove! Mr. Wyatt,” the officer said, “I do think that your explanation is the right one. Give me your hand, lad; I had no more doubt five minutes ago that your brother had, in a fit of passion, shot Mr. Faulkner than I have that I am standing here now. But I declare I think now that he acted as you say. How you have struck upon it beats me altogether.”
“I have been thinking of nothing else all the night, Mr. Henderson. I put myself in Julian’s position, and it seemed to me that, hearing a gun fired so close at hand, even if he did not hear a cry, Julian knowing how often the man had been threatened, might at once have run to the spot, and might have behaved just as Faulkner says he did. All that seemed to me simple enough; Julian’s absence was the only difficulty, and the only way I could possibly account for it, was that he had followed the murderer.”
“It was very imprudent,” Mr. Henderson said gravely.
“Very; but it was just the sort of thing Julian would have done.”
“But, however far he went, he ought to be back before this.”
“That is what I am anxious about, Mr. Henderson. Of course he ought to be back. I am terribly afraid that something has happened to him. This man, whoever he was, must have been a desperate character, and having taken one life from revenge, he would not hesitate to take another to secure his own safety. He had a great advantage over Julian, for, as we know, his gun carried bullets, while Julian had nothing but small shot. Which way shall we go next, Mr. Henderson—shall we follow the track or go into the wood?”
“We will go into the wood; that will take us a comparatively short time, and there is no saying how far the other may lead us. But, before we do so, I will call up my two men, take them over the ground, and show them the discoveries we have made. It is as well to have as many witnesses as possible.”
The two constables were called up and taken along the line of track, and the chief constable pointed out to them that the man with well-made boots was evidently running after the other. Then they entered the wood. Carefully searching, they found here and there prints of both the boots. They went out into the drive, and, starting from the spot where Mr. Faulkner had been found, made for a large tree some thirty yards to the left.
“Just as I thought,” Mr. Henderson said. “Someone has been standing here, and, I should think, for some little time. You can see that the ground is kicked up a bit, and, though it was too hard to show the marks of the boots plainly, there are many scratches and grooves, such as would be made by hob-nails. Now, lads, search about closely; if we can find the wad it will be a material point.”
After five minutes’ search one of the men picked up a piece of half-burned paper. Frank uttered an exclamation of satisfaction as he held it up.
“Julian always used wads. This never came from his gun. Now let us go back to the tree, Mr. Henderson, and see which way the man went after firing the shot.”
After careful search they found the heavy footprints at several spots where the snow lay, and near them also found traces of the lighter boots. The trees then grew thicker, but following the line indicated by the footprints, they came to the spot where he had left the wood.
“You see, Mr. Henderson,” Frank said, “Julian lost the footprints just where we did, and bore a little more to the left, striking the edge of the wood between where the man had left it and the road. Now, sir, we have only to find the spot where Julian first left the road, and try to trace his footsteps from there to the spot where Mr. Faulkner was lying. We know that the shot was fired from behind that tree—and if my brother’s footsteps miss this spot altogether, I think the case will be absolutely proved.”
They went back into the road, and found where Julian had crossed the untrodden snow between it and the hedge, and had pushed his way through the latter. It was only here and there that footprints could be found; but, fortunately, some ten yards to the right of the tree there was an open space, and across this he had evidently run.
“You have proved your case, Mr. Wyatt,” the chief constable said, shaking Frank cordially by the hand. “I am indeed glad. Whoever the man was who shot Mr. Faulkner, it was certainly not your brother. Now let us start at once on the tracks.”
Frank’s face became more serious than it had been during the previous search, as soon as they took up the double track across the fields. Before, he had felt absolutely confident that whatever they might find it could only tend to clear Julian from this terrible accusation; now, upon the contrary, he feared that any discovery they might make would confirm his suspicions that evil had befallen him. Scarcely a word was spoken as they passed along the fields.
“The man with the hob-nailed boots is taking to the hills,” the chief constable remarked.
“I am afraid so, Mr. Henderson; and as they are bare of snow there will be no chance of our following him.”
When they came to the point where the snow ended they stopped.
“There is an end of our search, Mr. Wyatt. We must return to the town. The magistrates will meet at eleven o’clock, and I and the constables must be there. But I will send off two men directly we get back, to go along the cliffs and question all the men who were on duty yesterday afternoon as to whether they saw two men with guns crossing the hills, one being probably some distance behind the other. I think, perhaps, you had better come to the court. I don’t say that it will be absolutely necessary, but I think it would be better that you should do so; and you see it would be useless for you to be hunting over those hills alone. As soon as the court is over I will take four men and will myself
start to search for him. There is no saying whether we may not find some sign or other. I shall be glad if you will go with me; you have shown yourself a born detective this morning, for had you been trained to it all your life you could not have followed the scent up more unerringly.”
“I will certainly go with you, Mr. Henderson, and I will be at the court-house. I would start at once for the hills, but I have had nothing to eat this morning, and, what is much more important, I want to ease my aunt’s mind. Of course, she was as certain as I was that Julian had nothing whatever to do with this, but naturally it will be an immense relief to her to know that the suspicion of so dreadful a crime no longer rests on him.”
When Frank returned home he found that Mrs. Troutbeck was so prostrated with the shock that she was still in bed, where the doctor had ordered her to remain. As soon, however, as she heard that Frank was back, she sent down for him to come up. Her delight was extreme when he told her of the discoveries he had made, and that the constables had no doubt the warrant for Julian’s arrest would be withdrawn. She became anxious again when she found that Frank could give no satisfactory explanation of his long absence.
“I would not trouble about it, Aunt,” he said, soothingly; “no doubt we shall hear of him before long. Let us be content that he has come well out of this terrible accusation, just as he did from the former charge, and let us hope that the explanation of his absence will be just as satisfactory when we hear it. Even if I thought that Julian had got into any trouble, it would be infinitely easier to bear than a knowledge that he was suspected of murder, for it would have been murder, Aunt. I heard just now that Faulkner died last night.”
The meeting of magistrates was an informal one, as they agreed, directly they heard that Julian was not in custody, that they could proceed no further in the matter. Mr. Henderson, after answering their first question, followed them into their private room.
“So you did not lay hands on him last night,” Colonel Chambers said. “We shall have to alter the warrant, for I find that Mr. Faulkner is dead.”
“I think, gentlemen,” the chief constable said quietly, “that after you have heard what I have to tell, you will have to withdraw the warrant altogether.”
“Eh! what? Do you mean to say, Henderson, that you think the young fellow did not fire the shot after all? I would give a hundred pounds if I could think so, but, with Faulkner’s deposition before us, I don’t see how there can be any possible doubt in the matter. Besides, I was present when he gave it, and though it may have been coloured a good deal by his feeling against young Wyatt, I am convinced that he believed, at any rate, that he was speaking the truth.”
“I have no doubt he did, sir, and I had no more doubt than you have as to Mr. Wyatt’s guilt; indeed, until his brother pointed out one very important fact, nothing would have persuaded me that he did not fire the shot. I don’t say that it was at all conclusive, but it sufficed to show that the matter was by no means so certain as it seemed to be. I found him at the house when I went there to arrest his brother. Of course, the young fellow was greatly shocked when I told him the nature of the charge, and declared it to be absolutely impossible. So certain was he, that even when I told him the nature of Mr. Faulkner’s depositions, he was more puzzled than alarmed. The first question he asked was whether Mr. Faulkner had been killed by shot or by a ball. When I said by a ball his face cleared up altogether. His brother, he said, and as we know, had been rabbit-shooting at Mr. Merryweather’s. He would have had small shot with him, but young Wyatt said that he did not think his brother had ever fired a bullet in his life. He knew there was not such a thing as a bullet in the house. Mr. Wyatt could not possibly have known that he was likely to meet Mr. Faulkner on his way back from shooting, and therefore, unless upon the rather improbable theory that he went about with the intention of shooting Mr. Faulkner whenever he met him, and that he had bought a bullet in the town and carried it always about with him for the purpose, it was clear that he could not have fired that shot.”
“There is something in that, Mr. Henderson. A good deal in it, I am ready to admit, but nothing that would really counteract the effect of Faulkner’s direct testimony, given when he knew that he was dying.”
“No, sir; still it is a point that I own I had entirely overlooked; however, that is not now so important. I will now tell you what has taken place this morning.”
And he then related the story of the discovery of the tracks, that proved that Julian had not gone near the tree behind which the murderer had for some time been standing, and how, after running in and finding Mr. Faulkner’s body, he had set out in pursuit of the scoundrel.
“I have the two constables outside who were with me, Colonel, and if you like to question them, they will, I am sure, confirm my statement in all respects.”
“I am glad indeed to hear your story, Mr. Henderson,” Colonel Chambers said warmly. “The lad’s father was an old friend of mine, and it was terrible to think that his son could have committed such a dastardly crime. What you say seems to me quite conclusive of his innocence, and, at the same time, is not in any way in contradiction with the deposition. I give you very great credit for the manner in which you have unravelled this mystery.”
“The credit, sir, is entirely due to Mr. Wyatt’s brother. He had formed the theory that, as in his opinion his brother was certainly innocent of the crime, the only possible way in which he could account for his absence from home that night was that, upon hearing the gun fired so close at hand, Mr. Wyatt had at once run to the spot, found the body of Mr. Faulkner, and had then immediately started in pursuit of the murderer. Setting out with me on the search with this theory strongly fixed in his mind, young Wyatt seized at once every point that confirmed it, and pointed out to me that the man with heavy boots had crossed the fields at a run, and that the other had followed as soon as he came upon the footprints, after searching for them up and down by the edge of the wood. Once we had got this clue to follow up, the matter was then plain enough. The search through the wood showed us the whole circumstances of the case, as I have related them to you, just as plainly as if we had witnessed the affair. But if I had not been set upon the right trail, I say honestly that I doubt whether I should have unravelled it, especially as the snow is rapidly going, and by this afternoon the footprints will have disappeared.”
“Well, as a matter of form, we will take down your statement, Mr. Henderson, and then take those of the constables.”
“Young Mr. Wyatt is outside, if you would like to hear him, sir.”
“Certainly we will,” the Colonel said. “He must be a wonderfully shrewd young fellow, and I think we ought to take his statement, if only to record the part he played in proving his brother’s innocence. But where is the brother, Mr. Henderson; hasn’t he come back yet?”
“No, sir; and I own that I regard his absence as alarming. You see the murderer, whoever he is, was armed with a rifle, or at any rate with a gun that carried bullets, while Mr. Wyatt had only a shot gun. Such a fellow would certainly not suffer himself to be arrested without a struggle, and when he found that he was being followed across the hills, would be likely enough to shoot down his pursuer without letting him get close enough to use his fowling-piece. I have sent two constables up to inquire of the coast-guard men along the cliffs whether they observed any man with a gun crossing the hills yesterday afternoon, and whether they heard a gun fired. As soon as you have before you the statements of the constables who were with me this morning, I intend to take them and two others and start myself for a search over the hills, and I am very much afraid that we shall come upon Mr. Wyatt’s body.”
“I sincerely hope not,” Colonel Chambers said; “but I own that I can see no other way for accounting for his absence. Well, if you will call the clerk in, he will take down your statement at once. What do you think, Harrington? It seems to me that when we have got the four statements we shall be fully justified in withdrawing the warrant against young Wyatt.”
> “I quite think so, Colonel. You see, the facts will all come out at the coroner’s inquest, and, when they do so, I think there will be a good deal of strong feeling in the place if it is found that young Wyatt has been killed while bravely trying to capture Faulkner’s murderer, while at the same time our warrant for his apprehension for the murder was still in force.”
“Yes, there is a good deal in that, Harrington. If Faulkner had not died I think that it would have been best merely to hold the warrant over in order that when Wyatt comes back, if he ever does come back, all these facts might be proved publicly; now that will all be done before the coroner.”
The statements of Mr. Henderson and the two constables were taken down. Frank was then called in.
“I congratulate you most heartily upon the innocence of your brother having been, to our minds, so conclusively proved, and, as Mr. Henderson tells us, chiefly owing to your shrewdness in the matter. Before you begin, you can repeat your opinion about the bullet that you pointed out to the chief constable last night, in order that the point may be included in your statement. After that you can tell us the story of your search in the wood.”
When Frank had finished, Colonel Chambers said: “This is a very awkward thing about your brother’s disappearance. While giving him the fullest credit for his courage in following a desperate man armed with a rifle, it was certainly a rash undertaking, and I fear that he may have come to harm.”
“I don’t suppose when he started, that it was so much the idea of capturing the man, Julian had in his mind, as of seeing who he was. Had my brother come back with only the statement that some man unknown had shot Mr. Faulkner, his story might not have been credited. Certainly, in the teeth of Mr. Faulkner’s depositions, it would not have been believed when there was no evidence to support it. Still, I don’t suppose it had even entered Julian’s mind that any suspicion could possibly fall upon him. I am greatly afraid that he has been killed or badly hurt; if not, I can see but one possible way of accounting for his absence. Mr. Faulkner was extremely active in the pursuit of smugglers, and had, we know, received many threatening letters. If the man was a smuggler, as seems to me likely, he may have gone to some place where he had comrades awaiting him, and, Julian pursuing him, may have been seized and made prisoner. You see, sir, he knew many of them, and, after the affair the other day, was probably regarded as a friend, and they may hold him in their keeping only until the man who fired the shot can get safely out of reach.”