Part 3 (2/2)

”You have given it as your opinion that they were once lovers,” I continued. ”Therefore, if he had come there to blackmail her, what more natural than that he should carry with him something by which to impress her with his power over her? At all costs, therefore, we must try and satisfy ourselves that there is nothing to incriminate her.”

”Ah! my dear Wilfrid,” he sighed. ”It is really terrible--too terrible.”

”This is not the moment to discuss the affair. We must act,” I urged, and together we got over a gate and turned into a gra.s.s field which was a shorter cut to the wood.

”This way,” my friend directed. ”The spot is up at that corner,”

pointing away up the hill, where the wood loomed darkly against the sky.

Truth to tell, I shared Eric's fear that Harris or one of his sons might be lurking in the neighbourhood, yet I said nothing. My only thought was for the woman who had been my friend, my playmate, the dainty love of my early youth. She might be all that her enemies said of her, yet for her mother's sake, for Jack's sake, I meant--if possible--to save her.

Keeping in the shadow of the hedgerows and walls, I allowed my companion to direct my footsteps. With his long practice in those boundless forests of eternal night in Equatorial Africa, he had learnt how to creep along with scarce a sound. He motioned to me to be silent, and presently we crossed the big turnip field and entered the thicket at the point where he had entered it that afternoon.

”This will destroy my track,” he whispered. ”Tread always on your toes.”

His example I followed, malting my way through the brambles and undergrowth until, of a sudden, we came out into a small open s.p.a.ce beneath some big trees on the edge of the wood itself, and there upon the ground I saw something lying. In the darkness I could not distinguish what it was, but Eric advanced slowly, and bending, turned to me, saying in a low whisper,--

”Here it is. But how can we search him without a light? If we strike a match it can be seen by anyone coming up the hill.”

I knelt at his side and ran my hands over the cold corpse. Ah! it was a gruesome moment. My eager fingers unb.u.t.toned his jacket that was wet and clammy with blood, and quickly I put my fingers in his inner pocket.

Yes! there were papers there. Quick as thought I thrust them into my own pocket, and then in the darkness searched his clothes thoroughly.

In his hip-pocket I felt a small leather wallet or card-case, and in his left-hand trousers pocket was a pen-knife, both of which I secured; while Eric, making another search of his waistcoat, discovered an inner pocket which contained some paper or other, which he handed to me.

To search a dead man in the darkness is not the easiest thing, and even though we had gone through his pockets, yet I was not satisfied.

My friend urged me to creep away and go back to meet Booth, but I hesitated. I wanted a light in order to satisfy myself thoroughly that I had overlooked nothing, and I told him so.

In a moment he threw off his jacket, and covering the prostrate figure with it, said, ”Strike a match underneath. This will hide the light.”

I did so, and the fickle flame from the wax vesta fell upon the hard white face, a face that in death bore a wild, desperate look that was truly horrifying.

The pockets were, however, my chief concern, and, striking match after match, I made a methodical examination, finding a screwed-up piece of paper, the receipt for a registered letter. In feeling within his vest my hand touched something hard beneath his s.h.i.+rt.

I felt again. Yes, there was something next his skin. Therefore I carefully opened his saturated s.h.i.+rt, and placing my hand within, drew out something about the size of a penny, a kind of medallion that he wore suspended around his neck by a fine gold chain.

A quick twist broke the latter, and I secured both medallion and chain.

”Make haste!” cried my companion in quick alarm. ”Lights are coming up the hill! It's Richards's dog-cart with Booth. Let's fly. We must get back to the road, or they may suspect.”

”A moment!” I cried. ”Let me adjust his clothes,” and with eager, nervous fingers I re-b.u.t.toned the dead man's clothing, and carefully rearranged the body as we had found it.

Those moments were exciting ones, for already the trap was coming on at a brisk pace, the lights s.h.i.+ning clear along the road, and we yet had two large fields to cross before reaching the point where it was necessary to meet the doctor and constable.

Eric slipped on his coat, and we scrambled through the undergrowth by the way we had come, and then under the shadow of the wall, tore on as quickly as our legs would carry us.

Just, however, as we got out of the turnip field, my companion turned to me, and gasped,--

”Look there--to the left! There's someone over in that clump of bushes there. By Heaven! old fellow, we've been seen!”

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