The Riddle of the Night
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE CLOUDBURST
The delay, trifling though it was, occasioned by the smashing of thetobacco jar and the discovery of the photograph, served to interferewith the smooth progress of events, as it fell out that Cleek did not,after all, rejoin the party below in time to witness the first meetingbetween Geoffrey Clavering and Lady Katharine Fordham, for the carriagehad arrived at the entrance to the house before he put in an appearance,and the General and Mrs. Raynor, Ailsa and Lady Katharine, were out onthe veranda talking excitedly with young Clavering when Harry and Cleekcame upon the scene.
There is a subtle magic in love that dispels all other emotions, anddespite the gravity of the situation, a look of happiness radiated fromLady Katharine's face, reflected, though in a far lesser degree, uponGeoffrey Clavering's; indeed it did not need an over-keen eye to detectthat the young man was seriously ill at ease, and general conversationlanguished.
Cleek's entry, therefore, with young Raynor's announcement of his suddenattack of faintness, not only drew all attention, but, as he hadforeseen, he became an object of extreme solicitude upon the part ofthe ladies.
"Crocked up, poor beggar, and came within an ace of bowling over,"explained young Raynor as he led him to a seat in a big wicker chair."Sharp attack of indigestion, if I know the symptoms. Bet you a hat,mater, it was that beastly cheese souffle we had for lunch. Enough tokill a dog, that stuff. But you will give that silly ass of a cook hishead, and let him serve up anything he likes. How are you, Clavering?Things look like going all right for you after all--eh, what? 'Tisn'tevery man who can have his rival's wind shut off to order."
The remark could not be said to be a happy one, despite the fact thatthe maker of it laughed as though he had just perpetrated a witticism;for even his doting mother could not but deplore it.
"Harry, darling, how can you?" she said reproachfully, as youngClavering coloured and the two girls looked distressed and indignant."Darling, you ought to think before you speak."
"Huh!" grunted the disgusted General. "If he did, he probably wouldn'tspeak at all. It seems to me, Harry, that you must lie awake at nightsplanning how you can arrange to say just the wrong thing upon alloccasions--you do it so constantly."
"Oh, that's it--just lay everything on me!" responded his dutifuloffspring sulkily. "I'm always doing the wrong thing--if you believewhat other people say. Seems to me that the best thing I can do is totake myself off, and then everybody will be happy. I say, Barch, whenyou feel like yourself again you'll find me either at the stables or inthe pater's blessed ruin taking lessons in etiquette from the familyghost--if the pater has been able to rake up one and coax him to residethere."
And with this ill-natured dig at his father's pet weakness this engagingyoung gentleman lurched down the steps of the veranda and walked surlilyaway round the angle of the house.
The place which he had spoken of as "the pater's ruin" was a little fadof the General's, whose love of antiquities and the like had tempted himto transform a bare and unattractive part of the Grange grounds intosomething at least picturesque if not in the very highest good taste.Ancient ruins had always been a passion with him, but as you can't haveancient ruins in modern Wimbledon, the General had had a ruin built forhimself, modelling it after the crumbling remains of an old Scottishcastle which had appealed to his artistic eye, planting it with fernsand enwrapping ivy and vines of Virginia creeper, and even supplying itwith owls and bats to keep up the illusion. It was his one harmlessweakness, his one foible--that ruin; and nobody but his son ever mockedhim for it, though many laughed in their sleeves and secretly made gameof his foolish whim.
Cleek had heard of the "ruin" at Wuthering Grange before he had ever setfoot inside the gates of the place; and hearing of it again--now, likethis--he felt that he would like to kick the young cub who couldpublicly mock his father's folly in this fashion. He saw the General'skindly old face flush with anger and mortification, and was not at allsurprised when he presently made an excuse to get away and retiredindoors.
Meantime, Cleek's plan of pretending illness had panned out precisely ashe had imagined, and was productive of the results he desired.Essentially feminine and of a highly sympathetic nature, Lady Katharinehovered near him, doing all in her power to ease the sufferings of onewhom she shrewdly suspected of being very near to the heart of herdearest friend, and this naturally brought Geoffrey to the little groupsurrounding him, and enabled him to study his attitude at closequarters.
The more he saw of Sir Philip Clavering's son and heir, the better heliked him; but although the young man occasionally turned an adoringlook upon Lady Katharine, and appeared to be doing his best to share herevident high spirits, it was apparent to Cleek, after a moment's study,that his attitude was for the most part assumed. He made no attempt toget away from the others and have the lady of his heart all to himself,and whenever he and she were for a moment separated from Mrs. Raynor andAilsa Lorne, he was nervous, distressed, and acted with an air ofrestraint that was as puzzling as it was pronounced.
A chance remark regarding the state of Lord St. Ulmer's health broughtfrom Lord St. Ulmer's daughter the happy, excited remark:
"Oh, Geoff, dear, he's improving every hour, and he has been sowonderfully kind and tender to me this afternoon that I could kiss him.Just think, he says that things can go on now just as they did beforeCount de Louvisan came; that there is nothing now to come between us,Geoff; nothing to keep us apart for another moment!"
"Really? That's ripping!" said young Clavering, and in his effort toappear delighted smiled the ghastliest parody of a smile possible toconceive. It was so pronounced that even Lady Katharine herself noticedit and looked puzzled and distressed.
"You don't seem very glad," she said, a note of pain in her voice, alook of pain in her reproachful eyes. "_Aren't_ you glad, Geoff? And isthat why you did not come over to see me before?"
"Don't be silly, Kathie. I couldn't come any earlier because--well,because I couldn't, that's all."
"A very lucid explanation, I must say. What is the matter with you,Geoff? You're not a bit like yourself to-day--is he, Ailsa?"
But Ailsa made no reply. There was none really needed. Geoffrey hadtaken hardly any notice, but as if struck with a sudden thought, whippedout a notebook and began shuffling the pages nervously through hisfingers.
"I'd nearly forgotten, Kathie," he said apologetically; "my mother askedif you would lend her these books." He handed her the torn leaf withsomething scribbled upon it. "Any time will do, but she said you wouldhave them."
Lady Katharine looked down at the writing, and a wave of colour surgedover her face.
"But----" she commenced.
"I don't want them now; in fact, I can't stop even now, only I justwanted to know that you were all right."
There was no mistaking the look of adoration on the young man's face,but she looked at him reproachfully.
"Going back again, so soon!" she said softly, averting her head, whileher lips trembled and her hand clutched painfully on the leaf of thenotebook.
"I'm afraid I must, dear," responded Geoff. Then he turned swiftly toCleek, who had been watching the little scene, the peculiar one-sidedsmile looping up the corners of his mouth.
"Good-bye, Mr. Barch; pleased to have met you," he said without,however, coming forward and offering his hand.
"Thanks! same to you; good-bye," replied Cleek, and that same smile wasstill on his face when a minute or two later, young Clavering havingtaken his departure, Cleek was rejoined by Ailsa Lorne.
"What do you think about it?" she asked abruptly. "What is it that iswrong? Oh, Mr. Cleek, do you think----"
"I'll be beyond 'thinking' before the morning. I shall know," heinterposed. "Now, show me the way to that ruin, please. I want a word ortwo with Mr. Harry Raynor if he is there. Down that path, is it? Thanksvery much." And swinging down from the veranda, he moved away in thedirection indicated.
A brisk two minutes' walk brought him to the pictur
esque ruin with itsivy-wrapped walls, its gaping Gothic windows, and its fern-beddedbattlements, so artfully copied that the stones actually seemed to becrumbling and the plants to have been set there by Nature rather than byman. Even the appearance of a dried-up moat and a ruined drawbridge wasnot wanting to complete the picture and to give an air of genuineantiquity; and he had just stepped on the latter to make his way acrossto the wide arch of the entrance when he was hailed, not from within,but from behind.
He faced round suddenly to see young Raynor moving quickly toward him.He was walking rapidly, and appeared to be in a state of greatexcitement.
"I say, Barch, hold on a moment, will you?" he sang out. Cleek gave himtime to get to the drawbridge and then the reason for his excitementbecame known. "Look here, old chap, I'm afraid we shall have to give upour little 'lark' for this evening, after all. Rotten bad luck, but I'vejust got a message that will call me to--well, somewhere else; and I'vegot to go at once. Don't expect I shall be able to get back this side ofmidnight; but if you don't mind prolonging your stay and making it twonights instead of one----"
"Not in the least. Delighted, old chap."
"Oh, well, then, that's all right. Have our night out to-morrowinstead--eh, what? Look here, Barch, blest if I don't like youimmensely. Let you into the secret. It'll be with 'Pink Gauze.'"
"Pink Gauze? Don't mean the little Frenchy, do you--the little beauty ofthe photograph?"
"The very identical. Be a good boy, Barchie, and I'll take you to seeher to-morrow night. What do you think--eh, what?"
Cleek didn't say what he thought; it would have surprised the young manif he had.
"Well, ta-ta until midnight or thereabouts, old chap. So long!" And witha wave of the hand he was gone.
Cleek stood and looked after him for a moment, a curl on his lip, anexpression of utter contempt in his eyes; then he gave his head a jerkindicative of a disgust beyond words, and, facing about, walked on intothe ruins.
The General had done the thing well, at all events. The atmosphere ofantiquity was very cleverly reproduced: walls, roof, floor--all had theappearance of not having been disturbed by the hand of any one for ages.Half-defaced armorial bearings, iron-studded doors, winding staircases,even a donjon keep.
This he came to realize when the sight of a rusted iron ring in thefloor tempted him to pull up and lay back a slab of stone that appearedcenturies old, and to expose in doing so a twisting flight of stonesteps leading downward into the very depths of the earth.
Really, you know, the old chap had done it well. Cells down there, nodoubt--cells and chains and all that sort of thing. Well, he had time tospare; he'd go down and have a look at those cells. And, leaving thestone trap-slab open, he went down the black stairway into the blackerdepths below, flicking the light of his torch about and going from cellto cell. One might swear that the place was centuries old. Rusty oldbarred doors, rustier old chains hanging from rings in the walls.Nothing modern, nothing that looked as if it had known use or beendisturbed for these hundreds of years; nothing that---- Hello! There wasa break in the illusion, at all events: a garden spade, with fresh earthclinging to the blade of it, leaning against the wall. Fancy a man socareful of preserving an atmosphere of antiquity letting one of thegardeners leave---- No, b'gad! it hadn't been left merely by chance. Ithad been brought here for use, and was probably left for _further_ use.There was a place over in that corner that most decidedly had beenrecently dug up.
He walked over to the place in question and directed the glow of thetorch so that the circle of light fell full upon it. Somebody had beendigging in the earthen floor of the cell, and had made an attempt tohide the fact by sprinkling bits of stone and plaster scraped from thewalls over it. In the ordinary course of things, and with a light lesspowerful than this of the electric torch, the thing would have passedmuster very well, and would, in all probability, have escapedobservation. Now, asked Cleek of himself, what the dickens should anyone wish to dig in this place for? And, having dug, why try to disguisethe fact? Hum-m-m!
He switched round suddenly, walked to the place where the spade stood,in the angle of the wall opposite, took it up, and, returning, began todig where the digging had been done before.
This he had to do in the darkness, for the moment his thumb was removedfrom the button of the torch the light went out. But, having oncelocated the place, this was not difficult, for the earth, having oncebefore been disturbed, yielded easily to the spade.
For five--possibly six--minutes he worked on, shovelling out the looseearth and tossing it aside unseen; then, of a sudden, the spadeencountered something which, though soft and yielding, would not allowthe blade to penetrate it at all, press his foot down as hard as hemight. If Cleek knew anything at all, he knew that that betokened afabric of some sort, and knew, too, that he had got to the bottom of theoriginal excavation.
He laid aside the spade, and the electric torch spat its light into thehole.
Clothing at the bottom of it--buried clothing!
He stooped and pulled it to the surface, letting the articles thusunearthed drop one by one from his fingers. A cap, a pair of trousers, acoat with a badge on it, a stick with a loop of leather by which tocarry it, a belt, and a number on that belt.
He looked at the number; it was a brass "4." He looked at the badge, andthen rose upright, clamping his jaws hard and understanding.
What he had unearthed was the clothing of the Common keeper who had beendone to death last night--the clothing which the assassin had stolen andworn.
And he had found that clothing here, hidden in the grounds of WutheringGrange! Why, then, in that case, the murderer---- He stopped; and thethought went no farther--stopped, and releasing the button of the torch,let utter darkness swing in and surround him.
Some one had entered the ruin--some one was moving about overhead.