The Mystery of the Green Ray

  CHAPTER XIV.

  A FURTHER MYSTERY.

  "Well," said Hilderman, as we caught them up, "what about lunch? Afterhis journey I daresay Mr. Burnham has an appetite, not to mention hisexcursion into the realm of detective fiction."

  "We lunched at Mallaig," I explained, "with Mr. Garnesk before we sawhim off."

  "Oh, did you?" he asked, with evident surprise. "I didn't see you atthe hotel."

  "We went to the Marine," I replied, "to save ourselves a climb up thehill."

  "We had a snack at Mallaig too," the American continued, "intending tolunch here. Are you sure you couldn't manage something?"

  "It would have to be a very slight something," Dennis put in. "But Idaresay we could manage that."

  "Good!" said Hilderman. "Come along, then, and let's see what we cando."

  We strolled into the drawing-room through the inevitable verandah,and though Hilderman was the tenant of the furnished house he hadcontrived to impart a suggestion of his own personality to the room.The furniture was arranged in a delightfully lazy manner that almostmade you yawn. The walls were hung with photographic enlargements ofsome of the most beautiful spots in the neighbourhood. I rememberedwhat Myra had told me as to his being an enthusiastic photographer, soI asked him about them.

  "Did you take these, Mr. Hilderman?"

  "Yes," he answered. "These are just a few of the best. I have manyothers which I should like you to see some time. I always leave theenlarging to keep me alive during the winter months. These are a fewodd ones I enlarged for decorative purposes."

  "They are beautiful," I said enthusiastically, for they were realbeauties, more like drawings in monochrome than photographs. "Andyou certainly seem to have got about the neighbourhood since yourarrival."

  "Yes," he laughed, "I don't miss much when I get out with my camera.Most of these were taken during the first month of my stay here."

  "These snow scenes from the Cuchulins are simply gorgeous, and surelythis is the Kingie Pool on the Garry?"

  "Right first time," he admitted, evidently pleased to see his workadmired. I thought of Garnesk's suspicion that our American friend wasengaged on detective work of some kind, and it struck me that with hiscamera and his obvious talent he had an excellent excuse for goingalmost anywhere, supposing he were called upon at any time to explainhis presence in some outlandish spot.

  "You must have kept yourself exceedingly busy," I remarked inconclusion.

  After the meal we adjourned to the hut above the falls. Hildermancertainly had some right to be proud of his view. It was magnificent.We stood outside the door and gazed out to sea, north, south and west,for some minutes.

  "You have the same uninterrupted view from inside," said Hilderman, aswe mounted the three steps to the door. He held the door open, and Istepped in first, followed by Dennis and Fuller. The window extendedthe whole length of the room, and folded inwards and upwards, in thesame way as some greenhouse windows do. Suddenly I laughed aloud.

  "What's the joke?" asked Hilderman.

  "This," I said, pointing to a large carbon transparency of a mountainunder snow, which hung in the window on the north side. "You've noidea how this has been annoying us over at Invermalluch."

  "How?" asked Dennis.

  "It swings about in the breeze," I replied, "and it reflects the lightand catches everybody's eye. It's a very beautiful photograph, Mr.Hilderman, but, like many human beings, it's exceedingly unpopularowing to the position it holds."

  "A thousand apologies, Mr. Ewart," said the American. "It shall beremoved at once."

  "Oh, not at all!" I protested. "Surely you are entitled to hang apositive of a photograph in your window without receiving a protestfrom neighbours who live nearly three miles away."

  "That's Invermalluch Lodge, then, across the water," Dennis asked.

  "Yes," I replied, and we forgot about the transparency, which remainedin undisputed possession of a pitch to which it was certainlyentitled. We sat and smoked, and looked out at the mountains of Skyeand the wonderful panorama of sea and loch, with an occasional glanceat the gurgling waterfall at our feet, and presently I picked up acopy of an illustrated paper which was lying at my hand. I turned thepages idly, and threw a cursory glance at the photographs of theweek's brides, and the latest efforts of the theatrical press agents,and I noticed, without thinking anything of the fact, that one pagehad been roughly torn out. I was about to remark that probably themost interesting or amusing picture in the whole paper had beenaccidentally destroyed, when Fuller leaned across Dennis, and took thepaper out of my hands.

  "Don't insult Mr. Hilderman's precious view by reading the paper inhis smoking-room, Mr Ewart," he said, with a loud laugh. "As aHighlander you should have more tact than that."

  Hilderman turned round, and looked from one to other of us.

  "What paper is he reading? I didn't know there was one here."

  I explained what paper it was, adding, "I quite admit that it was awaste of time when I ought to be admiring your unrivalled view, Mr.Hilderman. I offer you my sincere apologies."

  Hilderman threw a quick glance at Mr. Fuller.

  "Better give it him back, Fuller," he said. "There is nothing moreannoying than to have a paper snatched away from you when you'rehalf-way through it."

  Shortly after that Fuller declared that he must be leaving, and askedHilderman rather pointedly whether he felt like a trip to Loch Duich.I determined to step in with an idea of my own.

  "I was going to make a suggestion myself, Mr. Hilderman," I began,"but it doesn't matter if you are engaged."

  "Well, I don't know that I'm particularly keen to come with you thisafternoon, Fuller," he remarked. "What was your suggestion, Mr.Ewart?"

  "I was wondering whether you would come over to Invermalluch withBurnham and me and--er--have a look round with us?"

  "Well, if Fuller doesn't think it exceedingly rude of me, I shouldlike to," the American replied, "especially as Mr. Burnham will beleaving you to-morrow, or the day after at latest."

  "Incidentally, I don't know how we shall get back without you," Ipointed out. "You see, we sent the motor-boat on."

  "By Jove, so you did!" Hilderman exclaimed. "Well, that settles it,Fuller."

  "I could take them on the _Fiona_ and put them ashore," his companionpersisted. Hilderman gave Fuller a look which seemed to clinch thematter, however, for the little man beamed at me through hisspectacles, and explained that if he took us in his yacht it would bekilling two birds with one stone.

  "Still, of course, my dear fellow," he concluded, "you must pleaseyourselves entirely."

  So we saw him safely on board the _Fiona_, and then started forInvermalluch in Hilderman's magnificent Wolseley launch.

  "Fuller knows me," he explained, by way of apology. "I go up with himsometimes as often as three times a week, but I gathered that youasked me with a view to discussing the mystery of the green flash, orwhatever you call it."

  "You're quite right; I did," I replied. "I simply want you to come andhave a look at the river, and see what you can make of it."

  "Anything I can do, you know, Mr. Ewart," he assured me, "I shall bedelighted to do. If you think it will be of any assistance to you if Iexplore the river with you--well, I'm ready now."

  From that we proceeded to give him, at his request, minute details ofGarnesk's conclusions on the matter, and I am afraid I departed fromthe truth with a ready abandon and a certain relish of which I oughtto have been most heartily ashamed.

  When we stepped ashore at Invermalluch Hilderman looked back acrossthe water.

  "If I'd waited for Fuller," he laughed, "I should have been stuckthere yet. He's let the water go off the boil or something."

  We went up to the house and had tea on the verandah, for the Generalhad taken Myra up Loch Hourn in the motor-boat. After tea we got tobusiness.

  "Now that I've had a very refreshing cup of tea," the Americanremarked, "I feel rather like the mouse who said '_Now_ bring out yourcat' when he h
ad consumed half a teaspoonful of beer! Now show me theriver."

  "I don't want to sound at all panicky," I said, "but I think I oughtto warn you that our experiences at the particular spot we are goingto have--well, shall we say they have provided a striking contrastfrom the routine of our daily life?"

  "I'm not at all afraid of the river, Mr. Ewart," he replied lightly."I should be the last person to doubt the statements of yourself andMiss McLeod and the General, but I am inclined to think the river hasno active part in the proceedings."

  "You hold the view that it was the merest coincidence that Miss McLeodand the General both had terrible and strange experiences at the samespot?" asked Dennis.

  "It seems to be the only sensible view to hold," Hilderman declaredemphatically. "I must say I think Miss McLeod's blindness might havehappened in her own room or anywhere else, and the General's strangeexperience seems to me to be the delusion of overwrought nerves. Iconfess there is only one thing I don't understand, and that is thedisappearance of the dog. That's got me beaten, unless it was thatcrofter."

  "We intend to go to the Saddle to-morrow and make a fewinvestigations. I was going by myself," I added cautiously, "but Ithink I can persuade Burnham to stay and go with me."

  "I certainly should stay for that, Mr. Burnham," Hilderman advised."One more day can't make much difference."

  "I'll think it over," said Dennis, careful not to commit himselfrashly.

  We came to the Dead Man's Pool, and crossed over the river, and beganto walk up the other side.

  "This is about the right time for a manifestation of the mystery," Iremarked lightly, though I was far from laughing about the wholething.

  "Well," said Hilderman, "if we are to see the green flash in operationI hope it will be in a gentle mood, and not pull our teeth out one byone or anything of that sort." Evidently he had little sympathy withour fear of the green ray and the awe with which we approached theneighbourhood of the river.

  "Are we going to the right place?" Dennis asked. "I mean the identicalspot?"

  "That lozenge-shaped thing up there is the Chemist's Rock," I replied,"and the other important place is Dead Man's Pool, which we have justleft."

  "Miss McLeod went blind on the Chemist's Rock, didn't she?" Dennisinquired.

  "Yes," I replied, with a shudder. "She was fishing from it."

  "Then suppose we go back to the pool," he suggested. We agreed readilyenough, for I had no desire to hang about the fateful rock, andHilderman for his part seemed to have no faith in the idea at all. Ifancy he thought it would make no difference to us in what part of theriver we might be, only provided we didn't fall in. So Dennis led theway back, and he was the first to pick his way to the middle of thestream. Hilderman and I were some distance behind. Suddenly we stoppedstock-still, and looked at him. He had begun to cough and splutter,and he seemed rooted to the small stone he was standing on in themiddle of the stream. In a flash I understood, and with a cry Ibounded after him, Hilderman following at my heels.

  "It's all right, Ewart," cried Hilderman behind me. "He's only choked,or something of that sort. He'll be all right in a minute."

  Dennis had crossed to the centre of the stream by a way of his own,and we ran down to the stepping-stones by which we had come, in orderto save the time which we should have been compelled to waste infeeling for a foothold as we went. Every second was of importance, andI fully expected to see Dennis topple unconscious into the pool belowbefore I should be able to save him. I knew what it was exactly; hewas going through my own horrible experience of "drowning on dryland," to quote Garnesk's vigorous phrase. Imagine my astonishment,therefore, when I reached Dennis's side with only a slight difficultyin breathing. There was no sign, or at least very little, of the airwhich was "heavier than water." Hilderman plunged along behind me,and we reached the stone on which my friend was standing almostsimultaneously. Dennis held an arm pointing up the river, his facetransfixed with an expression of horrified amazement. SuddenlyHilderman gave a hoarse, shrill shout, breaking almost into a scream.

  "Shut your eyes!" he yelled. "Shut your eyes! Oh, for heaven's sake,shut your eyes!"

  But I never thought of following his advice. Dennis's immovable arm,pointing like an inanimate signpost up the river, fascinated me.Slowly I raised my eyes in that direction. Then I stepped back with astartled cry, lost my footing, slipped, and fell on my face among therocks.

  _The river had disappeared!_