to investigate the place, and, noticing that thelodge-keeper's house was shut, while one of the smaller of the greatornamental iron gates stood open, I strolled in, continuing up theavenue for a quarter of a mile or so, when suddenly the drive sweptround past a pretty lake, and I came in full view of the house.
It was a splendid old Elizabethan mansion. Before it was a pretty,old-world garden with an ancient sundial in the centre, while to theright was a well-kept modern tennis-court where people were playing,while afternoon tea was being served to the remainder of thehouse-party.
There were fully a dozen people there, the men in flannels and the womenin cool muslins with bright sunshades. Risks of detection, however,prevented me from approaching close enough to clearly distinguish thefaces of the hostess and her guests; therefore I stood hidden by thebushes, watching the game, and trying in vain to catch a glimpse of thecountenances of the chattering circle of tea-drinkers.
Suddenly a figure in pale yellow rose and crossed to the side of afoppishly-dressed young man who, sitting somewhat apart, was smoking andintently watching the game. The smartness of the figure, the narrowwaist, wide hips, and swinging gait were familiar.
Although I could not distinguish her features, I knew that it was mywife--the woman who was ignorant of her marriage, and whom I loved withsuch a fond, mad passion.
The man rose, pulled a chair forward for her, and then both sat downtogether to chat. He fetched her some tea, and then sat hugging hisknees, apparently engrossed in conversation. She seemed to hold himbeneath the spell of her marvellous beauty, just as she held me.
Could it be that that man, whose face I could not see clearly, was CyrilChetwode, her lover?
I was standing there, my eyes riveted upon the pair, when the sound of afootstep on the gravel caused me to turn quickly. Some one wasapproaching. I at once drew back behind the trunk of a great elm nearwhich I was standing, for my discovery there as an intruder might upsetall my plans.
The figure came forward slowly, for I could hear that they weredeliberate footsteps, as though of a person waiting and pacing up anddown. I peeped out to ascertain who it was, and as I did so the figureof a man in a soft felt hat and a suit of grey tweed came cautiouslyinto view.
My heart leapt up in quick surprise.
It was the man who, by giving me that cigarette, had made the dastardlyattempt upon my life that had been so nearly successful--the man of whomI had been in active search--Major Tattersett.
His single eyeglass was still in his eye, and his hat was set upon hishead as jauntily as on the day when we had first met, but, for theeagerness of his countenance as he gazed forward to where my wife sat, Isaw that he was not one of the house-party, and felt confident that hispresence there was with secret and evil intent.
CHAPTER ELEVEN.
VOICES OF THE NIGHT.
From my place of concealment I was able to watch the Major closelywithout risk of detection.
His presence there boded no good. He had crept slowly up the avenueuntil within sight of the house, and was intently scanning the gay partyassembled on the lawn. Was it possible that he had walked behind me andwatched me enter there?
He was scarcely as smart in appearance as on the day when he led mybride up the aisle of the church, and had afterwards handed me thecigarette; but, nevertheless, he retained the distinctly foppish air ofthe man-about-town. For a few moments only he remained there eagerlyscanning the distant group, and then, as though reassured, he turned onhis heel and retraced his steps towards the lodge.
Determined to watch his movements, I followed him until he gainedHounslow Station, and there I saw him turn into a low-built,old-fashioned inn, where I afterwards discovered he had been staying fora couple of days.
That some conspiracy was being formed, I could not doubt, therefore Iset myself to keep strict watch upon him--no easy matter, for from hourto hour I feared that he might recognise me. It was he who hadpetitioned the Archbishop for the special licence for our marriage; hewho had, with some mysterious motive, posed as the father of the woman Inow loved. Surely she must have known that he was not her father, and,if so, she herself had taken a part in a plot which had so nearly costher her life.
But was she not dead when I found her lying there? The puzzle wasbewildering.
The Major's movements might possibly give me some clue. It wasfortunate that we had met.
At a cheap clothier's I had purchased a rough secondhand suit and abowler hat, much the worse for wear, and these I had assumed in order toalter my appearance as much as possible. About nine o'clock that samenight, while I stood idling about the station with my eye ever upon theinn opposite, my vigilance was suddenly rewarded, for the Major emergedleisurely, carefully lit a cigar, and then strolled across the railwaybridge and down the road towards Whitton. Darkness had not quite setin, therefore I hesitated to follow him; but, fortunately, I hadexplored the neighbourhood thoroughly during the past few hours, andknew that by crossing to the opposite platform of the station, I couldgain a footpath which led through fields and market-gardens, emerginginto the high-road almost opposite the gates of the park.
This byway I took, and, hurrying down it, arrived at the point near thelodge fully five minutes before he appeared along the road. The gateswere, however, closed.
Would he ring and demand admittance? I wondered.
When about two hundred yards from the gates he suddenly halted, glancedup and down the road as though to make certain that no one was watching,and then, bending down, squeezed himself through a hole in the woodenfencing and disappeared. He evidently knew that the gates were locked,and had already discovered that mode of entry, if indeed he had notbroken away the palings himself earlier in the day.
Without hesitation I hurried forward over the grass by the roadside, sothat he might not hear my footsteps, and, discovering the hole in thepaling, entered after him. I found myself in the midst of hawthornbushes and thick undergrowth, but, pausing and listening intently, Isoon detected which direction he had taken by the noise of breakingtwigs. For some ten minutes I remained there, fearing to move lest thenoise might alarm him; but when at last he was out of hearing I creptforward, breaking my way through in the direction of the avenue. Thenight was hot and so still that each sound seemed to awaken the echoes.
With the greatest caution I crept on, walking noiselessly over the grassin the direction of the house.
As soon as the old mansion came into view I saw that lights burned inmany of the windows, and from the drawing-rooms, where the open doorsled on to the lawn, came the living strains of dance music.
From where I stood I could see the high lamps with their shades ofyellow silk, and now and then bright dresses flashed past the longwindows. A couple of figures were strolling up and down before thehouse. I could see their white shirt-fronts in the darkness, and knewthat they were men smoking and enjoying the night air.
The two men at last tossed away their cigar ends and entered the house:thus I became encouraged to approach closer, cross the lawn, and peepthrough one of the side windows of the drawing-room. Fully a dozenpeople were there, but as I gazed around I was disappointed not to seemy love. I had risked discovery and detection to obtain sight of her,but she was not present, neither was her cousin Nora. Most of theguests seemed smart people, judging from the women's toilettes, and allwere lolling about with the air of laziness which overcomes one after agood dinner. Dancing had ended, and, as I watched, a young dark-hairedgirl approached the piano and commenced to sing a song by which I knewthat she was French.
I peered in through those windows eager for a glimpse of Beryl. Surelyshe was not like those others? No, I recollected her calm dignity andsweet grace when I had spoken to her. She, at least, was high-mindedand womanly. I was glad she was not there to hear that song.
The singer sat down, having finished, amid roars of applause, and thenthe conversation was resumed; but at that instant I became conscious ofsome one passing near me, and had only just time to
draw back into theshadow and thus escape observation. It was one of the guests, a man wholounged slowly along, the glowing end of his cigar shining in thedarkness, alone; he was apparently full of recollections, for he passedslowly and mechanically onward without noticing me. Unable to see hisface, I could only detect that he was rather above the average height,and, by his silhouette, I saw that he stooped slightly.
The encounter, however, caused me to recede from the house, for I had nodesire to be detected there and compelled to give an account of myself.I was in shabby clothes, and if found in the vicinity might be suspectedof an intention to commit a theft.
Where was the Major? He had certainly entered there, but had escaped myvigilance by passing through the thicket. I had been there nearly halfan hour, yet had not been able to re-discover him. The lawn on one sidewas bounded by a light iron fencing, beyond which was a thick wood, andupon this fencing I mounted, and sat to rest in full view of the houseand the long window of the drawing-room. In the deep shadow of thetrees I waited there, safe from