The House of Strange Secrets: A Detective Story
CHAPTER VIII
THE SILENT HOUSE AND THE FOLKS THAT DWELT THERE
A sleepless night was Laurence's portion when, tired out, he flunghimself upon his bed.
The mystery was deepening in an alarming fashion, and its intricacieswere such as did not conduce to quiet sleep. That he had at lastactually encountered his father's enemy he was quite convinced, but hewas no nearer being able to account for the strange creature's enmity oreven to recognise its identity than before he had met with this lastadventure.
A few facts about the unknown creature were very apparent. Firstly, itwas strangely agile and cunning; secondly, its voice was as remarkableas its agility, which was hardly human; thirdly, it was in possession ofa bicycle, and yet was unable to obtain food and clothing without havingrecourse to theft; fourthly, it was of peculiarly small stature for aman; and lastly, it was able to use firearms, but with the loss of thepistol it had probably been deprived of its only offensive weapon,since it had not ventured to attack its assailant in the barn.
Laurence used the word "it" because he was in no way decided in his ownmind as to whether the thing was a man, a woman, or, the idea occurredto him, neither of these two. Not that he believed it to be somethingthat was not human, but because the marvellous manner in which it hadscaled the barn walls was so suggestive of the monkey race. The ideathat the creature in the barn was a species of monkey he at oncedecided, of course, to be absurd. A monkey might have stolen the missingcoat and dinner, have thrown the hay down in order to cover its retreat,and have uttered that piercing shriek on being hurt, but it was hardlylikely to be able either to ride a bicycle or use a pistol.
That it was a woman was more possible, and the young investigator'sfoundation for the idea was the remark of Miss Scott that her friend haddeclared the person lurking in the Marquis's garden to be a black woman"with coloured skirts." This remark, it will be remembered, was veryprobably the cause of the Squire's sudden illness at luncheon, shortlyafter the arrival of Mrs. Knox and her niece.
A woman might have performed all the feats that the unknown person had.She might have set light to the Marquis's house, believing the Squire tobe yet in the building; she might have followed the carriage on abicycle on discovering that the man she was dogging had left (though howshe came to have a bicycle was a mystery in itself); she might have"held up" the carriage and attempted to murder the old gentleman; and itwas just as possible (or impossible) for her to clamber up the barn wallas for a man to do so. To be sure, she must be a very remarkable woman.Since she was "black," she might be a negress or certainly someforeigner. Uncivilised and fierce she certainly was. But how came itthat a negress (if such were the case) had so bitter an enmity againstthe harmless old Squire that it was the cause of all Mr. Carrington'scareful precautions, and of the spirited attack on the high road? Themystery seemed hopelessly incapable of solution.
Morning came at last, and found Laurence no further advanced with hisinvestigations. At one time he had decided to summon a detective, butrecollecting how the Squire would take such an intrusion he consideredit advisable to work alone.
What the relations of the woman (suppose it to be a woman) in the barnand the disguised man who had purchased the dog whip were, he had notyet ventured to guess, but one thing was quite plain: they were in someway connected.
A fruitless effort had been made to attempt the solution of the problemthrough the "woman" servant in the Dene. Equally impossible would it beto obtain any information from the Squire. The idea of conversing in anyway with the woman (?) in the barn (even if she were yet hiding there)was more than ridiculous. Consequently, the original scheme was the onlyone left which seemed in any way possible.
Laurence felt that the sole remaining course open to him was tointerview "Major Jones-Farnell"!
During breakfast (at which meal the Squire did not appear) he cast allmeditation and worry aside for the time being, and set himself to thetask of entertaining the two ladies. Mrs. Knox, however, wanted littleentertainment. A good breakfast was quite sufficient for her!
With Lena it was different. Two of her greatest charms were her vivacityand the brilliancy of her conversation, and both these characteristicswere brought into play during the breakfast-table talk that ensued--talkthat naturally enough, in Mrs. Knox's presence, contained no allusion tothe subject uppermost in Laurence's mind, if not in that of both.Consequently, the morning meal was prolonged to a somewhat unusuallength. The young man could not help thinking that (in his own words)but for the mystery which he had set himself to solve, he would be"making a fool of himself and falling in love."
He was certainly given plenty of opportunities to do so, for Mrs. Knoxmade a point of retiring, as was her custom, at the conclusion ofbreakfast, after charging Lena to write a line to the Marchioness ofMoorlands asking if she could be of any assistance to that lady or herhusband in their present uncomfortable position.
"I'll get the letter written first of all," said Miss Scott to Laurence,after her aunt's departure, "and then you must show me some more of yourlovely country. As a letter takes me about three-quarters of an hour tocompose, I should recommend you to devote that short period ofrecreation to having a quiet smoke by yourself! Then, after your play,you can prepare yourself for some good hard work, for I want to be shownthe woods, the church, and everything else there is worth seeing in theneighbourhood." And with a smile she bustled away upstairs.
Here was Laurence's opportunity. If he waited until Lena's return shewould probably insist upon accompanying him on his visit to DurleyDene. This he did not mean to allow. If, as he deemed very possible,the visit might not be without a dangerous element, Miss Scott mustcertainly not share that danger. So, without any hesitation, Carringtontook his cap, and, leaving the house, made his way by a short cut to theentrance of the Dene. The gate was not locked, so he passed through,walked with a bold step up the dark avenue of swaying firs, and,entering the ruined old porch, pulled the rusty handle of the bell withenergy.
A distant clang disturbed the weird silence of the seemingly desertedmansion, but the bell was not answered, though Laurence waited for manyminutes, deliberating in his mind the course of action he should takewhen admitted.
Once again he gripped the bell-pull, and dragged it out of its socket asfar as it would go. Once again, too, did the harsh sound re-echo fromwithin. This time the clang had hardly died away before a noise ofshuffling footsteps was distinctly audible to Laurence's alert ear. Thefootsteps approached, the sound betraying the fact that the stone floorof the lobby was uncarpeted. Then there followed the metallic click of abolt being drawn back, and the door swung open until slightly ajar.Laurence saw that the porter, whoever he was, had carefully fastened itwith a chain that allowed an aperture of a few feet only.Simultaneously he saw part of a face that was glaring out at him. Thoughthe interior of the house seemed uncommonly dark, he was able torecognise the features of the person in the doorway as those of thedisguised man whom he had encountered on the highroad the previousnight!
"Well, what do you want?" was the gruff greeting that proceeded fromwithin.
"I wish to see Major Jones-Farnell," replied Laurence coldly.
"Oh, then he can't see you," came the reply, and the door was about toclose again.
"Wait," cried Carrington, placing his foot against it; "I'm yourneighbour, the Squire's son, and I am desirous of making the Major'sacquaintance."
"I tell you, you can't see him. He's engaged. Take your foot away."
"All in good time, my friend. Do I understand that you refuse to take mymessage to Major Jones-Farnell?"
"That's about it. And, d'yer hear, take your foot out of the doorway, orI'll put it out for you."
"Be very careful, my good man," exclaimed Laurence. "I know who you are.You're the man who struck me last night when disguised as a woman. Iknow you. There's something mysterious going on in this house, and Ishall not stop until I've solved it. Admit me at once to your master, orwhoever the owner of this house is, or I go
at once to the police andobtain an order to search the place on suspicion. My father is amagistrate----"
"So you think there's a mystery about this house, do you? Well, you'refinely mistaken this time, my beauty. Even if there was a mystery itwould take more than the likes of you to get to the bottom of it."
So saying, by sheer force the man thrust Laurence's foot back, bangedthe door, and shut down the bolt, leaving young Carrington in the sameatmosphere of mystery as before.
And after the shuffling footsteps had died away down the corridor,unbroken silence once more fell upon Durley Dene.