CHAPTER XII
THE MAJOR REVEALS HIS SECRET
"My dear sir," Laurence resumed, after a short pause, "you are wellaware that your remarks are idle ones. I have no cause for complaint onany such grounds as those you mention. As a neighbour you are the mostdesirable that man could have, except----"
"Except what?"
"Except in one particular--the cause, as you very well know, of mypresence here to-night."
"I am quite at a loss to understand what you mean, Mr.----." Hehesitated for the other to supply the name.
"Carrington, as you are also well aware."
"Carrington! Oh, indeed! No relation, I suppose, to Major HaroldCarrington, who was formerly stationed at Madras?"
"No; I have not heard of any relative who was an Indian officer.Curiously enough, though, my father is Harold Carrington. But pray letus put an end to all this twaddle. I was forgetting that you know aswell as I do all about my unfortunate father."
"Really, Mr. Carrington, you amaze me. I can't imagine what you meanwhen you speak as you do. I was formerly intimately acquainted with aMajor Carrington (who, as I have already stated, was an Indian officerof repute) when I was living at Madras, but since you say that yourfather is not that Harold Carrington, I regret that I have not thepleasure of his acquaintance, though you so persistently declare that Ihave."
Laurence did not reply for a moment. He was more than astonished at theconvincing manner in which the Major spoke. Was he a marvellous actor,or was it possible that he had no connection with the Squire's would-beassassin? The latter idea was impossible. Had not he proved--and Lena,too--that there could be no doubt of the Major's close connection withthe person whose headquarters seemed to be the Manse barn?
No, the man must be acting a part, as he might naturally be expected todo. And he was acting it so cleverly that Laurence was almost inclinedto believe him to be ignorant of the terrible plot that was thickeninground the unhappy Squire.
The man had already confessed--or had practically done so--that his namewas not Major Jones-Farnell. He had been visibly concerned at themention of the dog-whip. What did it mean? The first discovery clearlyproved that the man was playing a part. The second surely pointed to thefact that he was not speaking sincerely.
"Well, Major," said Carrington, after a pause, which he had occupied indeliberating thus, "let us then, for the moment, drop the question ofhow much or how little you know about my father, and revert to the causeof your invitation so strangely delivered to me this morning."
"Ah, now we are talking sense," replied Laurence's companion; "you meanyou wish to know why I requested you not to go to the police? But first,pray tell me on what grounds you intend--or shall we sayintended?--applying for a warrant to search this house. A retiringdisposition is no crime--at least, so my knowledge of legal subjectsleads me to believe."
"Of course not," responded Laurence angrily; "kindly do not prevaricate.But, by the way, how did you send me that message this morning?"
"As to that, my servant is the best person for you to apply to for ananswer. I presume, though, that he delivered the note by means of hiscatapult, a weapon and instrument in the use of which he is extremelyproficient. You must excuse the mode of delivery. I am short-handed--myestablishment consists of myself and my man."
"Indeed! and I am under the impression that the 'man' affects clothingthat one does not usually see upon men!"
"For various reasons, I confess, my servant walks abroad in a harmlessdisguise."
"And attacks pedestrians in the high road!" muttered Laurence.
"Certainly not, unless they threaten him with pains and penalties thathe does not deserve!" was the reply.
"Again let me impress upon you that the cause of my visit has not yet somuch as been explained by you," exclaimed Carrington, enraged at theMajor's repeated parrying of the question.
"I think you promised that you would first explain your reason forsuspecting us, as you seem to, of crimes the nature of which you insiston refraining from mentioning."
"You know very well that I have good cause for suspicion. Tell me, whatis the meaning of this darkened house; this secrecy; the necessity fordisguise; and lastly, what is your connection with the person who stolemy bicycle for a terrible purpose?"
Once again, as he made this last remark, did the visitor perceivenoticeable tokens of concern on the face of his host. There was a lookof dread--dread of exposure--in his eyes. He puffed rapidly at hiscigar--a sure sign of discomfort--and shifted two or three times in hisseat before replying.
"You are pressing me very hard, Mr. Carrington," he said at length, "andI see no reason why I should answer your questions, which, you willpardon me for saying so, incline towards impertinence."
"I am entirely in the right when I request you to explain thesemysteries to me. My father's position will enable me to obtain asearch-warrant without much difficulty, and----"
"Very well, very well, I will tell you all," cried the Major, flinginghis cigar stump into the empty fireplace, "though I must ask you toconsider all I tell you as strictly private and confidential. Is thatnot so?"
"It depends entirely upon the nature of your confession," respondedLaurence drily.
"Confession! You use hard-sounding words, Mr. Carrington. But here goes!First, my name is not Jones-Farnell. And, need I say, I am not aninvalid."
"I knew that," Laurence interjected.
"In reality, I am one Orlando Meadows. Second, I am not of a militarycalling, my profession being that of medicine. Third, I am an authorityon diseases of the brain, and particularly lunacy and its treatment;and, finally, I have in my charge downstairs a very savage lunatic."
Laurence gasped with amazement. If this were the case--that is, if amaniac were really imprisoned in the house--was it not more thanpossible that he it was who had made the savage attack on the Squire,and who had been hiding since the night of the attack in the Manse barn?
"Tell me, what is he like?" he asked eagerly.
The "Major," or rather, Doctor Meadows, as he really was, looked at himwith a puzzled expression on his well-formed features.
"He is gigantic," was his answer, after a moment's pause; "terriblypowerful and repulsively ugly, but pray have no fear on that account. Ihave him under the strongest lock and key that London can supply."
But Laurence's hopes had been dashed to the ground. The description ofMeadows' patient was as dissimilar to that of the person in the barn asit was possible for it to be, and the lunatic was safely locked updownstairs!
The confidence with which the visitor had accepted the doctor'sconfession was destroyed. Meadows was lying to him, that was quitecertain, and yet his story had a complexion of probability about it thatdeserved attention.
"Doctor!" cried Laurence sternly, "will you take your oath that you aretelling me the truth?"
"This is an unpardonable insult," exclaimed Meadows in reply, rising tohis feet and clenching his fists in the air. "How dare you insinuatethat I am telling lies?"
"Keep calm, if you please, Doctor Meadows," said Carrington. "Prove yourassertion by showing me this gigantic patient of yours."
Instantly there was a change in the doctor's behaviour. He collapsedinto his seat with a groan of despair.
"That is impossible," he muttered.
"Why so?"
"It would be unsafe; in fact, positively dangerous to both you andmyself," he stammered.
"As a doctor you should be able to tackle your patient," said Laurence."As a fairly strong and athletic man I can assist you. If necessary,there is also your servant. That is, we are three to one. No, Doctor, Ican't take such excuses. You must prove your words by at least giving mecertain evidence that you have a maniac in your charge downstairs."
"I cannot and I will not," replied the other.
"Then I shall go down and explore the place myself."
"For Heaven's sake, don't," shrieked Meadows, starting up again; "itwill be all the worse for you if you do. I forbid you to l
eave the roomuntil I give you permission, and then my servant will accompany you tothe door."
Laurence was puzzled beyond description by the doctor's behaviour. Whywas he so anxious that his guest should not explore the house? Was itthat he really feared his patient might break loose and attack him? Forthe matter of that, had he a maniac patient at all? Might not the storybe entirely fictitious? Could it be that the black creature (if he orshe were really black) who was waging such active warfare against theSquire was in lurking in Durley Dene?
This would account for Meadows' consternation when the idea of Laurencevisiting the other rooms in the house was suggested to him. At any rate,the probability of such being the case was worthy of consideration.
"You have someone hiding downstairs--don't deny it!" cried Laurencesuddenly.
Meadows' face became deadly pale.
"Yes," he replied hesitatingly. "I told you I had a lunatic--a fiercemaniac--whom I am taking charge of downstairs, when I know that byrights he should be in the padded cell of an asylum."
Again did the young man perceive that his companion was lying. Hismanner was that of a man who is telling a falsehood on which muchdepends.
"I tell you----" he began, but at that moment an interruption occurred.
The door was thrown open roughly, and a man entered. Laurence recognisedhim as the person who had played the double part of janitor andmarket-woman. He was a man of an unprepossessing, not to say criminal,type, and spoke in a surly tone.
"This bit o' paper were 'anded in by an old man a few minutes ago. To begiven to Mr. Laurence at once," the man said.
"Then give it to this gentleman," the doctor replied, and the servantdid so.
Laurence seized the roughly twisted note with a trembling hand. What wasthe meaning of a letter coming to him at the Dene? No one but Lena knewwhere he was. A glance told him that the words hastily scrawled inpencil on a half-sheet of paper were in Miss Scott's usually distincthandwriting.
And this was the terrible message the note contained:--
"Come at once. The Squire has been murdered!"