He walked to the door, treading softly so as not to disturb the child. At the door he turned again.
“Remember,” he said in a loud whisper. “You will hear a cough just before I come out of the french-window. I will leave this door ajar. So you may hear the cough either through the door, that is through the inside of the house, or through the window, that is from the outside. Try to discriminate between these two ways.”
He descended the stairs to the ground floor. The only illumination of the hall came from the study which remained empty. He listened and heard voices in the gun-room behind the writing-room. He knocked on the door of this room and was invited by Duchlan’s shrill voice to enter.
Duchlan, still in his dressing-gown, was seated in an arm-chair, the only chair in the room. His son stood beside him and the old man had his hand on Eoghan’s arm. There was a look of such happiness on Duchlan’s face as caused the doctor to regret that he had intruded. But the old man showed no resentment at his coming.
“Forgive me,” Dr. Hailey said, “but at last there is a gleam of light. I am anxious to act quickly in case it should be extinguished and I need help.”
Both men stiffened to hear him; he saw anxiety in both their faces.
“A gleam of light.” Duchlan repeated in the tones of a prisoner who has abandoned hope and now hears that hope remains.
“That, or an illusion, perhaps. I won’t raise false hopes by entering into any details, and besides, time is short.” He glanced at the window as he spoke. The deep, transparent blue of the night sky was unchanged in colour but the outlines of the clouds had become sharper. He turned to Eoghan. “Will you come with me?”
“Of course.”
“What about me?” Duchlan asked.
“We will report to you at the earliest moment.”
They left the old man with his happiness and crossed the hall to the study. Dr. Hailey shut the door.
“I am about to keep an appointment,” he stated. “May I ask that, if you agree to accompany me, you will obey implicitly any directions I may give you, and not ask any questions?”
“With whom is the appointment?”
The doctor hesitated. Then a slight frown gathered on his brow.
“With murder,” he declared in laconic tones.
Chapter XXXVII
The Swimmer Returns
“I want you to obtain a reel of black cotton and some pins.” Dr. Hailey spoke sharply. “You must find them downstairs, possibly in the servants’ quarters. On no account are you to set foot on the stairs.”
Eoghan did not try to hide his surprise, but his Army training instantly discounted it.
“Very well.”
He left the room. The doctor followed him and went to the little apartment opening off the hall, where hats and coats were hung. He took his own hat from its peg and carried it into the study. He glanced out anxiously at the night and then looked at his watch. The outlines of the trees below the window were dimly visible. After about five minutes Eoghan returned with the thread and pins. He handed them to his companion without comment.
“Wait here,” Dr. Hailey told him. He left the room, closing the door gently behind him. When he returned he was wearing an overcoat and carried a second overcoat over his arm.
“Put this on, please,” he ordered Eoghan, “and turn up the collar, then follow me.”
He extinguished the lamp and climbed out of the window on to the bed of earth on which McDonald’s footprint had been discovered. He glanced up as he did so at the window of Miss Gregor’s room, shut now, and lighted by the moon. The gravel crunched under his feet and he stood still, in sudden hesitation. When Eoghan joined him he urged that the utmost care was necessary to avoid noise.
“The slightest sound may betray us. Ears are strained at this moment to catch the slightest sound.”
They crossed the gravel path, passing the front door. When they reached the grass bank the doctor told his companion to lie down and remain without moving. He threw himself on the grass as he spoke and crept forward towards the window of the writing-room. Eoghan lost sight of him among the shadows and then fancied that he could see him again near the window; but a moment later he gave up this idea. The air was still heavy with heat and felt oppressive and damp. He thought that it was true that the darkest hour comes before the dawn, perhaps the eeriest hour also, since the clear lines of night are blurred by mists and shadows. What had happened to the doctor and what was he doing?
A cough, short and dry, came from the darkness. Then Dr. Hailey’s voice rang out in accents that vibrated with fear and distress:
“Don’t come out!”
There was a gleam, as of steel, Eoghan thought he heard a thudding sound. Then something that went heavily came galloping down the bank towards the place where he lay. He wiped his brow with his hand as it passed. There was a splash in the water below. He turned and looked down at the water.
A black object, like a seal, was swimming quickly out to sea. He felt sure that it was a seal.
The moonlight touched it. It gleamed.
Eoghan wiped his brow again. He could hear his heart thumping against his ribs.
A groan, low and piteous, came to him from the direction of the french-windows. He heard his name pronounced in feeble tones.
Chapter XXXVIII
The Face in the Water
Eoghan rose and ran to the window. As he approached it he saw the large form of Dr. Hailey bending over someone who lay on the ground on the spot where Inspector Barley had fallen. The doctor lit an electric lamp and illuminated the face of the man. A cry broke from Eoghan’s lips. It was his father.
The old man spoke his name again. He threw himself on his knees beside him.
“Here I am, father—Eoghan.”
The long withered eyelids opened wide. A smile of wonderful contentment appeared on the thin lips.
“Give me your hand…”
Eoghan took his father’s hands in his own. He bent and kissed the old man on the brow.
“I’m killed, boy…” A fresh groan broke from Duchlan’s lips and his features became convulsed. But the spasm of pain passed. “He struck me on the head…as he struck the policeman.” He broke off, gasping for breath. Dr. Hailey bent forward.
“Please don’t try to talk, sir, it’s only wasting your strength.”
Duchlan shook his head. His grip of his son’s hands tightened.
“It was my fault,” he whispered, “from the beginning. But you’ve forgiven me. Tell me again, Eoghan, boy, that you’ve forgiven me?”
“Yes, father.”
He smiled again. His face, Dr. Hailey thought, looked younger. But suddenly they saw the light in his eyes grow dim. A cold rigidity spread over his features, fixing them in an expressionless stare. He moved convulsively, like a man who tries to break strong bonds; he managed to raise himself on his elbow.
“This must be death…”
Suddenly his voice rang out clear and full of passion. He pronounced the name “Kathleen”. A moment later he was dead in Eoghan’s arms. Dr. Hailey opened his dressing-gown and put his ear to his chest.
“He’s dead.”
“What happened, doctor? What is this frightful thing?”
Eoghan’s voice was hoarse with emotion.
“Your father came out through the window. I wasn’t able to warn him in time. He came on in spite of my shout.”
The young man’s breath had become laboured. He bent his head.
“It passed close to me going down to the burn. If I hadn’t promised you to obey orders I could have prevented It. I saw It swimming away.”
His voice faded in horror.
“We must carry him into the house,” the doctor said. “Unhappily there’s something that remains to do. You must prepare your courage.”
“What do you mean?”
“Come—”
As he spoke Dr. Hailey passed his hands under the old man’s body and after a moment of hesitation Eoghan followed his example. They lifted the body and began to walk slowly towards the french-window.
“We had better take him to the study.”
They moved very slowly in the darkness and several minutes elapsed before they found the couch. As they laid Duchlan on this bed, on which his wife had been laid, a sob broke from Eoghan’s lips. Dr. Hailey struck a match to light the lamp. He saw the young man kneeling beside the couch, with his arms outstretched over his father’s body.
The sound of a thud, dull, sickening, came to them through the open door.
Eoghan jumped to his feet.
“What was that?”
He strode out into the hall and stood listening. Dr. Hailey joined him. The sound of heavy breathing came to them through the open window of the writing-room. The doctor lit his torch. Suddenly a shrill cry rang out. It was followed by a splash. Eoghan gripped his companion’s arm so that the beam of the torch was turned on to his face. His face was bloodless and his brow shone with sweat.
“There it is again.”
They rushed to the french-window. The first breathing of dawn showed them the mouth of the burn, black as old pewter. The surface of the water was troubled though no wind blew.
They ran down the bank to the water’s edge. The troubling had ceased and the surface of the little estuary lay, mirror-like, under the lightening sky. Dr. Hailey plunged into the water, which reached above his waist, and then bent down. Eoghan saw a white object, which he recognized suddenly as a human face, emerge from the water.
Chapter XXXIX
Dr. Hailey Explains
An hour later Dr. McDonald came limping into the study where Oonagh, Eoghan, and Dr. Hailey awaited him. He sat down and arranged his wooden leg.
“Well?” Dr. Hailey asked.
“I agree with you. Duchlan was murdered exactly as Dundas and Barley were murdered. Christina died from drowning but her arm had been broken. There are herring scales on Duchlan’s wound and on one of Christina’s hands.” McDonald’s face expressed a lively horror. He added: “And still we remain without an explanation.”
“I don’t think so. I know the explanation.” Dr. Hailey put his eyeglass in his eye as he spoke. He turned to Eoghan: “The first gleam of light,” he said, “came when your father told me that during the epidemic of diphtheria here your mother nursed Christina’s son through his last illness and so gave her life for the boy. I know the Highland character. Gratitude is one of its strongest elements.”
He rose and stood in front of the fire.
“Christina from that hour, I feel sure, gave you all the mother-love which had belonged to her son and, in addition, all the kindness which your mother’s sacrifice had awakened in her warm heart.”
“She did,” Eoghan exclaimed. “She was my real mother.”
There were tears in his eyes. He brushed them hastily aside.
“For which reason her feelings towards your aunt cannot have been other than bitterly hostile. In fact she admitted to me that they were hostile. She knew to what distresses your aunt had subjected your father’s bride, she knew that your mother’s happiness had been ruined by a process of exhaustion against which no happiness could be proof and she knew that, in a sense, at any rate, Miss Gregor was directly responsible for your mother’s death.” The doctor leaned forward. “But she was a Highland woman, a member of this household, in whose faithful eyes duty to your father, her master and chief, overshadowed every other duty. Since your aunt was Duchlan’s sister, she must continue to serve her.
“That attitude endured right through your childhood, till your marriage. Christina’s behaviour towards your aunt was respectful and solicitous until the illness of your little son began. But Hamish’s illness effected a great change…”
The doctor broke off. He readjusted his eyeglass.
“That illness was undoubtedly most alarming both to nurse and mother. To a superstitious mind, and Christina shared the mental outlook of her race, fits, even the mildest and least serious fits, always seem to partake of the supernatural. It is for that reason that epileptic children are called ‘fey’ in so many country villages all the world over. Christina undoubtedly felt that some evil influence was at work. She did not need to look far in order to discover it. Your aunt was already behaving towards your wife as she had behaved towards your mother. The tragedy of your father’s marriage was being re-enacted before the eyes of the woman who loved you as only a mother can love. To the strong emotions of motherhood was added, therefore, that fear which haunts superstitious minds and, sooner or later, compels them to action. Your aunt, in Christina’s eyes, was become the deadly enemy of the Duchlan family in that she was secretly, by evil influences, destroying the health of its youngest heir, possibly even threatening his life. Thus the reason which had existed for serving your aunt faithfully was changed into a reason for opposing her by every means. Motherhood and loyalty to this family were joined against the enemy of both.”
Dr. Hailey allowed his eyeglass to drop. It touched one of the buttons of his waistcoat and the sound struck sharply on the silence which filled the room.
‘‘Christina told me,” Oonagh said, “that she was sure some evil influence was at work against Hamish’s health. She said the child would not recover until that influence was destroyed.”
“Exactly.”
“She repeated it again and again.”
Dr. Hailey readjusted his eyeglass.
“Bearing this in mind, let us come to the night of Miss Gregor’s death. That event had been preceded by two important happenings, namely, your flight from this house, Mrs. Gregor, and the discovery of your meetings with Dr. McDonald on the shore. In the first instance Christina was sent as an ambassador to bring you home and from what you, McDonald, told me I conclude that, though Christina exonerated her young mistress from all blame, she was less ready to pardon you. You told me that she quoted the words: ‘Whom God hath joined together…’”
“She did, yes, as she was leaving the house.”
“Note how jealous she was of the Duchlan honour. That jealousy was certainly re-awakened when she learned about the meetings on the shore. Hers was not a mind, I think, able to understand the need of asking advice in a difficulty. Her own feelings compelled her so powerfully that she could not imagine the state of mind in which such compulsion is absent.” He turned to Eoghan. “Consequently she foresaw the immediate disruption of your marriage if news of what was afoot reached you. Here again the danger was your aunt.” Oonagh had flushed hotly. She put her hand on her husband’s hand.
“Christina told me,” she stated, “that she was very much afraid of Eoghan’s return, because his aunt was going to poison his mind.”
“Did she urge you to see as little as possible of Dr. McDonald?”
“Yes. I told her Eoghan was incapable of misunderstanding.”
“Which she did not believe?”
“Which she did not believe.”
Dr. Hailey nodded. “Very well, now we come down to the night of the murder. The important fact to grasp is that, on that night, you, Mrs. Gregor, had gone early to bed after a severe quarrel with your aunt. But you were roused because Hamish was ill again. You put on a blue dressing-gown to go to the nursery. Incidentally you received a letter from your husband in which he told you of his financial loss and begged you to keep on good terms with Miss Gregor. This letter was the cause of your going downstairs, while Dr. McDonald was busy with Hamish, to report to Miss Gregor on the boy’s condition. Christina was coming out of Miss Gregor’s bedroom candle in hand. As soon as she saw you your aunt showed the liveliest terror and drove you from the room, locking the door behind you.”
He glanced at Oonagh for confirmation. She nodded.
“Yes.”
“Why should Miss Gregor have reacted in that extraordinary way? I believe the answer is that, standing in the dim candlelight, in your blue gown, you looked exactly like Eoghan’s mother. So, years before, Eoghan’s mother had come into that room, knife in hand, and with the light of a feverish insanity in her eyes.”
Dr. Hailey’s voice fell to a whisper.
“That insanity, the result of a fatal attack of diphtheria, had momentarily deprived its victim of her self-control, Miss Gregor was stabbed over the heart and severely wounded. The memory of that hour remained, quick and terrible, in her spirit. Panic seized her. In her panic she locked herself in, closing the windows as well as the door.” He turned to McDonald: “You heard the windows being shut?”
“I did.”
“She was therefore shut up in her bedroom. There is no question that the door was locked. Now consider the case of Inspector Dundas. That poor man made one important discovery, namely, that you, Captain Gregor, had just suffered a heavy loss at cards and must, if possible, obtain money from your aunt. I take it that you told your wife that Dundas had learned of this necessity?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Where did you tell her?”
Eoghan looked surprised. He frowned and then his brow cleared.
“I remember. I told her one night while we were sitting in the nursery.”
“Was Christina present in the room?”
“Yes, she was. I remember it all quite distinctly now. Christina said she didn’t trust Dundas who, she was sure, would give us great trouble. She had suffered cross-examination at his hands, and in addition he had dared to order her about like a servant.”
“I see. Dundas threatened your safety. There could be no greater crime in Christina’s eyes. Barley’s case resembled that of Dundas except that the threat in this instance was to your wife.” Dr. Hailey turned to Oonagh. “Was Christina in the nursery when you heard the splashes and saw the black, shining object swimming down the burn?”
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