Part 5 (1/2)

I admired my friend for his clever sally, for if anyone actually did see him crossing the turnips there would be no suspicion aroused that he had been witness of any meeting.

The police superintendent made a cursory examination of the surroundings by aid of the lantern, but saw nothing that led him to believe that a struggle had taken place; then eager to return and examine those papers I had in my pocket, we both bade the doctor and policeman good-night, and returned across the fields and along the drift skirting the park, scaling the wall, and so reaching the house by a much shorter route than by re-pa.s.sing the village.

”I wonder who was in that thicket,” I said, as we walked down the hill, after leaving the scene of the tragedy.

”I saw something white, but whether it was a man's s.h.i.+rt-front or a woman's blouse I don't know,” Eric replied. ”Whoever it was may tell the police of our visit there, and we may find ourselves in a most awkward position. It wouldn't be nice to be charged with trying to defeat the ends of justice, would it?”

”No,” I said, thinking deeply, and recognising the seriousness of the situation. ”But how could we have acted otherwise? If we are to save Tibbie we must accept the risk.”

”It's terrible--terrible,” he murmured. ”I wonder who the fellow is?”

”Let's get back. Come up to my room, and we'll have a look through what we've found,” I said, and then we went on in silence until we managed to reopen the smoking-room window and creep in without attracting the attention of either the dogs or the night-watchman.

Eric mixed two stiff gla.s.ses of whisky, and we drank them. I confess that my hand trembled with excitement, while before me as I had walked through the night I saw that staring terror-stricken face--the face of the man who had looked into the Unknown and had been appalled.

Together we crept up to my room, first taking off our boots, as in order to reach the wing in which I was placed we had to pa.s.s Jack's room, and also that of old Lady Scarcliff, who was, I knew, always nervous of burglars. Besides, we had no desire that it should be known that we had been out at that hour--otherwise Sybil might suspect.

Up the Long Gallery we went, past the grim row of armed knights so ghostly in the darkness, past the loudly-ticking old clock, past the deep window-seat wherein Sybil had so nearly betrayed her secret in the sunset hour, and on into my room.

Once within we locked the door, drew the _portiere_ to shut out the sound of our voices, and I took from my various pockets all that we had secured from the dead man.

It was a strange collection of papers, letters and various odds and ends, rendered gruesome by the stains of a man's life-blood upon them.

They lay upon the table in the window and I scarce dared to touch them; stolen as they had been from that silent, staring corpse.

I switched on the table-lamp, and we drew chairs eagerly forward, so excited that neither of us spoke.

The first thing I took in my hand was the small circular medallion of gold with the thin chain which I had taken from the dead man's neck.

About the size of a penny it was, smooth and polished on either side. I turned it over in wonder, and as I did so noticed that although so thin it was really a locket, one of those which is sometimes worn by ladies upon a long chain.

With trembling fingers I inserted my thumb nail into the slit and prised it open.

Upon one side a small ivory miniature of the Honourable Sybil smiled mockingly at us, and on the other was engraved an inscription.

I put it down and took up a letter folded in half without an envelope, the paper of which was crumpled and blood-stained.

I quickly scanned over what was written there, Eric looking over my shoulder meanwhile.

What I learnt staggered me. It told us the awful truth.

We turned and faced each other, looking into each other's eyes without uttering a word.

The problem was, we saw, far more intricate and amazing than we had ever dreamed.

Yes, there, spread before us, was the dead man's secret!

CHAPTER FIVE.

WHICH PUZZLES BOTH OF US.

Holding our breath in our eagerness, we turned over the letters and hastily scanned them through, save where the writing was obliterated by those dark stains.