Devil's Dice
I knew I was in the presence ofthe ghastly dead.
With trembling hands I drew forth the candle and lit it, afterwardscreeping silently forward toward the room in the doorway of which I haddiscovered the body of the man whose association with my dead love wasso mysterious. By death his lips were sealed.
A loose board creaked ominously, and as I passed down the small narrowhall a long grandfather's clock vibrated and startled me. In thosemoments of terror every sound became magnified, and I could hear therapid thumping of my own heart.
Dreading to gaze upon the corpse, I held my breath and at last peeredround the corner to the study door, but judge my amazement when Irealised that the body was no longer there!
The crime had been discovered!
I dashed forward into the little book-lined den. It presented the sameappearance as when I had left it. Nothing had been disturbed. Only thebody had been removed, and all trace of the tragedy obliterated.
I bent to examine more closely the spot where the victim had fallen,when suddenly the sound of someone moving appalled me. There was astealthy footstep in the hall.
Instantly I blew out the candle. But too late! I had been discovered.
In the impenetrable darkness the footsteps approached with softstealthiness. Drawing myself up I placed my back resolutely against thewall, prepared to defend myself. The body of young Gilbert Sternroydhad been secretly removed, but I had been detected in the act ofexamining the spot, and had therefore betrayed knowledge of the crime.The murderer might commit a second crime to hide the first. Thesuggestion held me motionless.
Unarmed, I stood helpless against the unseen assassin, with only myclenched fist uplifted to ward off a blow.
"Who are you?" cried a voice. "Speak! or by Heaven, I'll fire!" Thevoice was that of my friend Bethune.
"Jack!" I gasped. "Don't you know my voice--Stuart?"
"You--old chap!" he exclaimed laughing. "What on earth do you mean byfrightening a fellow out of his senses at this hour? I thought you wereone of--" and he hesitated. "I thought you were a burglar," he addedquickly.
Then in a few moments we entered the study, and I saw how pale andhaggard he looked. His coat was off, and his sleeves were rolled up asif he had been at work. There were dark rings about his bright feveredeyes, and his complexion seemed a yellow clay-colour. In his tremblinghand gleamed a deadly weapon--the revolver that had caused the death ofMabel's mysterious friend.
Startled by this sudden discovery I stood staring at him, unable toutter a word. He laid the revolver upon the table, and gazed at me witheyes in which was an expression of abject terror. In those briefmoments it flashed through my mind that some violent exertion had causedthe beads of perspiration that stood upon his cold, pale brow; that thebody might be still lying in the flat, and that I had entered just at atime when he was in the act of concealing it Guilt was betrayed upon hisface; he appeared suspicious and utterly unnerved.
Yet he was my friend, and although I could scarce believe he had stainedhis hands with blood, I nevertheless resolved to ascertain the truth atall hazards. For a single instant I felt inclined to turn and leave himabruptly, but I quickly realised the necessity of not betrayingsuspicion if I desired to penetrate the mystery.
We had discovered each other in compromising attitudes. Neither of usdared to speak.
"Well," I said at last, after a desperate effort to remain calm, "how isit that you bring out a revolver to welcome your visitors--eh?"
"Visitors!" he echoed bitterly. "At this hour? You let yourself inwith your own key? Ah! I had never thought of that," he gasped, as ifthe sudden recollection that my key fitted his door terrified him.
"Yes. I have been out late to-night, and not having seen or heardanything of you for a couple of days, I dropped in just to see if youwere alive."
"Why shouldn't I be alive?" he snapped. "I've been down to barracks.Thatcher got leave on account of his father's illness, and I had to doduty for him. I wrote to Dora."
"I had no line from you. That's why I looked you up," I said, ascarelessly as I could.
"Then all I've got to say, Stuart, is that you might have waited untilmorning, and not creep in and frighten a fellow just as he's going toroost."
"I had no intention of frightening you. In fact, I did not know youwere at home."
"Then why did you come in?" he asked, with emphasis. I at once saw Ihad inadvertently made a declaration that might arouse his suspicions,and sought to modify it. "Well," I said, "I came in order to leave anote for you. In the passage I heard something fall, and was lookingfor it. I am leaving town early in the morning."
"You are?" he cried eagerly. "Where are you going?"
"To Wadenhoe, for some hunting. My object in leaving the note was toask you to run down and stay with us for a week or so. My people willbe awfully glad to see you, and as Dora and her mother are going toentertain a house-party at Blatherwycke, you won't be lonely."
"Well, thanks, old fellow, it's exceedingly good of you," he answered,evidently reassured. "I should be charmed to have a few runs with theFitzwilliam, for I've most pleasant recollections of three weeks lastseason in your country. When shall I come?"
"Next Saturday."
"Very well. Give my compliments to your mother, and thank her for herkind invitation. I'll be down on Saturday."
"But why were you so scared when you discovered me?" I asked, leaningon the edge of the table and regarding him with feigned amusement.
"I don't think I was very scared, was I?" he asked, with a hollow laugh."There's a bit of a scandal in the regiment that has upset me, and Idon't feel quite myself just now. A night's rest, you know, will set meright. Besides, I've been writing a good deal lately and it alwaystakes the nerve out of me."
He drew forth the spirit stand and poured out some whisky. At first Icould not bear the thought of drinking with a murderer, but again it wasimpressed upon my mind that, to successfully solve the mystery of themurder of Gilbert Sternroyd, I must act with discretion and arouse nosuspicion that I had actually discovered the body. Therefore we dranktogether, while Jack's demeanour quickly became calmer. It was apparentthat he had no idea of my previous visit, and it was also equallymanifest that the light-hearted gaiety succeeding his intensenervousness was forced and quite unnatural. He was striving to hidefrom me his terrible secret!
He flung himself into a chair while I stood upon the hearthrug, and ourconversation drifted mainly upon our proposed runs with the hounds. Ihad not expected to find him at home nor to meet him with a revolver inhis hand, but now I had made the discovery I understood all itsimportance. Yet his demeanour had in a few minutes so entirely changed;he seemed so calm and reassured that I relapsed into discouraginguncertainty.
Nevertheless, if he came to Wadenhoe I should have better opportunity ofobserving him, and of ascertaining whether the murdered man was anacquaintance. I could then test him by making observations and watchinghis face; I could worm from him his secret. I had trusted this man asmy best friend, but now that I was half convinced he was an assassin Iwas filled with a feeling of revulsion, and was determined that Dora'slife should never be wrecked by an alliance with one whose hands werestained with blood.
Lying back in the American rocking-chair, with his hands clasped behindhis head, he was laughing tightly as he told me an amusing story he hadheard at mess that night, entirely forgetting the strange circumstancesof our meeting, and having apparently overlooked the extreme lameness ofmy excuses. His appearance had been so unexpected that I had been quiteunprepared to answer his questions and my invitation had been givenentirely without previous contemplation. But I knew I had acted wisely,and that I had entirely allayed any suspicions I had aroused.
Then I thought of my missing match-box. He had no doubt not yetdiscovered it, and if he found it subsequently he would believe I hadlost it during my present visit. Good! I was in the position of adetective holding an important clue, upon which I might work, and eit
herclear or convict him.
Presently, when I announced my intention to depart, he rose, exclaimingwith a laugh:
"When you call next time, old chap, you might ring, and not enter withyour key. It was a narrow squeak that I didn't wing you."
"Are you so fond of shooting at people?" I asked meaningly.
"Shooting! What do you mean?" he asked with a sickly smile. "As asoldier I have to practice with the revolver, of course."
"But not upon your visitors, I hope," I said laughing as we were passingalong the narrow hall.
We were outside the door of the dining-room, which, being ajar, showedthere was no light inside, when suddenly there came from the room adistinct sound.
"Halloa!" I cried gayly. "Who have you got in there? Let's have alook."
I placed my hand upon the door to push it open, but with an agilemovement he sprang towards me and stood resolutely with his back to thedoor, deathly pale in alarm.
"No, Stuart," he gasped. "You must not enter."
"Why? Who's your friend? You arouse my curiosity," I said.
"I forbid you to enter," he replied firmly, standing with his armsakimbo and brows knit in determination.
"What's the meaning of this confounded secrecy?" I asked seriously.
"It means--well, it means that I have a visitor who has called to see meprivately."
"Male or female?"
"I refuse to answer any such question regarding my personal affairs," hereplied brusquely.
"Come, don't humbug. Let me go in and ascertain who it is," I said,trying to push him aside and enter. But within a second he shut thedoor, locked it, and removed the key, saying:
"I absolutely decline to allow you to enter that room, Stuart. Indeed,your actions this evening are so strange and extraordinary that I'malmost inclined to think you are not accountable for them."
"Then you refuse absolutely to tell me who your mysterious visitor is?"
"I do. It is neither my desire nor intention to compromise any personwho endeavours to do me a service, even to gratify this idle curiosityof my best friend."
Such caustic words, uttered in a tone of bitter resentment, showedplainly that he was resolved to preserve the secret of his visitor'sidentity.
Was it some person who was assisting him to get rid of the hideousevidence of the crime?
His hands trembled perceptibly as he stood before the locked door, andthere had returned to his ashen face that wild, haggard expression ofintense fear so noticeable when he had first discovered me.
"You speak of the person being compromised if discovered by me," I said."Then I presume your visitor is a woman?"
"You are at liberty to entertain whatever conviction you please. Ishall, however, tell you nothing."
"You refuse?"
"Yes, I refuse."
"Even though I should tell Dora that I found, in the middle of thenight, a mysterious woman in your rooms?"
"Even then I shall refuse to compromise my visitor," he answered, withfirmness that completely astounded me.
"Very well," I said abruptly. "Good-night. Remember your appointment,and come down to Wadenhoe next Saturday."
"Good-night. Next time we meet I hope you will not be quite soinquisitive," he replied, as he closed the door after me and I descendedthe stairs.
CHAPTER TWELVE.
IN STRICT CONFIDENCE.
My first impulse was to remain outside and watch for any person whomight emerge, but I knew that his front windows commanded a wide view ofthe street and he would soon detect me; and again, if anyone did comeout, I should not know whether they came from one of the other flats inthe same building. Slowly I walked round to my chambers, contemplatingthe best course to pursue, and at length came to the conclusion that amidnight vigil would be useless, for it might possibly further arouse myfriend's suspicions and so thwart my own efforts.
His refusal to disclose the identity of his guest and his firmdetermination to keep the visit a secret, convinced me more than everthat by his hand Gilbert Sternroyd had fallen, and that he wasendeavouring to get rid of the evidence of his crime. That night Islept but little, and in the morning, remembering Dora's appointment, Iresolved to run round and see him before she called. It was myintention to make pretence that I had a conviction that his visitor wasa woman, and wished to give him a chance of explaining to me. If heagain refused, then I would impart my suspicions to the woman who lovedhim. I had no desire to cause her pain, but felt it best that sheshould know the truth. Sooner or later the blow must fall, and I knewalas! that it would crush her.
Just before ten I stood again outside Bethune's door and rang. Mysummons was answered by Mrs Horton, who in reply to my question whetherCaptain Bethune was in, answered:
"No, sir. The Captain hasn't been home these three days, sir. He's atbarracks, I believe."
"For three days!" I echoed. It was evident that he had returned andagain left unknown to this woman. Then I asked whether she had beenthere every day.
"No sir. I've been down in Hampshire, sir, to bury my poor niece. TheCaptain said he would be away, so my daughter went with me."
In answer to further questions she told me that she had returned to workat eight that morning, and that the Captain was still absent. It wasevident, too, that she had no suspicion of the tragedy, every trace ofwhich had now been carefully removed.
Making an excuse that I wanted to obtain a paper from the rack in thedining-room, I entered and looked around. Nothing had apparently beendisturbed, but on the mantel-shelf I saw a plain gold signet ring thathad evidently been overlooked. Taking it up, I examined it, and foundengraved on the inside the initials "G.S." It was evidently a ring fromthe dead man's finger.
I put it down, scrutinised the room carefully, looked in the grate, butsaw nothing, then taking up a paper, went out, wishing Mrs Horton"good-day."
Punctually at the hour appointed, Saunders ushered Dora into my room.She was elegantly dressed in a smart tailor-made gown of dove-grey clothwith a large black hat with feathers, and wore a flimsy veil that ratherenhanced than concealed her beauty.
"I feel I'm becoming awfully reckless in making this visit," shecommenced with a laugh when she had seated herself in my chair, "butwhen I got home last night I received such a strange letter from Jackthat I felt compelled to seek your advice."
"If I can be of any service I shall be delighted," I said.
She seemed nervously agitated, and her eyes were, I thought, undulyheavy, as if she were unusually anxious.
"Thanks, you are always kind," she said. "Both Mabel and myself alwayslook upon you as our big brother. We often wonder why you never marry.We shall hear of it, however, some day."
"Never, I hope," I answered with a forced smile, remembering the grimtragedy of my marriage, and recollecting that her lover had once madethe very same remark to me.
"Why never? If you had a wife you would be far happier. At present youhave only your man to look after your personal comforts, and surely yourdinners at your club can never be so pleasant as if you dined at home incompany with a pretty wife."
"Upon my word," I cried, laughing, "I shall believe that you actuallyintend to propose to me next, Dora. I think if it were not--well, if itwere not for an obstacle whose name is Jack Bethune, I should beinclined to offer you marriage."
"Oh! Don't talk like that," she protested with a demure look. "Youquite misconstrue my words. Once you and I were lovers, when we were inour teens, but all that is past. We have both seen the world now, andhave met others whom we could love better."
"I don't know that I have," I said reflectively. She was one of themost charming girls of the season, and I believe were it not for thefact that I had already loved and lost, and that my feelings toward theopposite sex had become sadly embittered by what I felt was unnecessarypain that had been heaped upon me, I should have asked her to renounceher lover and let me take his place.
But only during a few moments did I entertain such
foolish thoughts, forI quickly saw that she adored the soldier-novelist, and that I had noright to be disloyal to a friend, even though that friend might be amurderer.
"I'm afraid our conversation is drifting towards a rather dangeroustopic," she said. "But you are such a confirmed bachelor that I alwaysfeel I can talk to you without fear that you will go down on your kneesor perform some other equally absurd antic."
"I'm sure I'm greatly gratified to know that I'm held in such highesteem," I observed laughing. "But under the eyes of a pretty womanlike yourself, men are sometimes fascinated, you know."
"Yes, but fascination is not love. When a man is fascinated by a woman,either the latter is an adventuress, or the former a fool." And shethrew back her handsome head and laughed at my discomfiture.
I had been fascinated by Sybil. Had she been an adventuress, Iwondered; or had I been a fool?
"True," I answered, earnestly. "But woman's beauty exercises a mostpowerful influence over man." Then I added--"I confess that if I wasnot aware of your love for Jack I should think of you tenderly, and verypossibly I should perform one of those gymnastic antics you denounce asabsurd."
"Then I'm very pleased you know of our attachment," she answered with acoquettish laugh. "I mean to marry Jack, as you are aware, therefore Ican never be any more to you than