Part 19 (2/2)

”But surely we ought to examine this spot and ascertain whether the remains of any one is concealed here!” exclaimed my old friend.

Yet I still hesitated, hesitated because I feared that any exposure must implicate that sweet little girl who, though my friend, had so ingeniously escaped me.

At the same moment, however, our ears both caught a slight movement among the tangled shrubs under the wall at the extreme end of the garden. Instantly we shut off our lamps, and stood motionless, listening.

At first I believed it to be only the scrambling of a cat. But next second Jack nudged my arm, and straining my eyes I saw a dark figure moving stealthily along, half crouching so as to be less conspicuous, but moving slowly towards that side of the house which was the only exit.

Fearing discovery there, our examination being so thorough, the intruder was slowly creeping off, endeavouring to escape observation.

For an instant I remained motionless, watching the dark, crouching figure. Then, drawing my revolver, I made a dash straight in its direction.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

WHAT THE POLICE KNEW

As I pushed my way through the tangle of weeds and undergrowth, Jack followed closely at my heels.

The dark figure leapt away in an instant, and dashed round the corner by the ruined conservatory, but I was too quick for him. I caught him up when he gained the front of the house, and there, in the light of the street-lamp, my eyes fell upon a strange-looking object.

He proved to be a ragged, hunchbacked youth, so deformed as to be extremely ugly, both in face and figure. His hair, long and lank, hung about his shoulders, while his dark eyes stood out in terror when I ordered him to halt, and covered him with my s.h.i.+ning weapon.

His was the most weird figure that I had seen for many a day. I judged him to be about eighteen or nineteen, though he looked older. His legs were short, his head seemed far too big for his crooked body, while his arms were long and ape-like, and his fingers thin, like talons.

”Now then, what are you doing here?” I demanded in a firm, commanding voice.

But he only quivered, and crouched against the wall like a whipped dog.

”Speak!” I said. ”Who are you?”

He gave vent to a loud, harsh laugh, almost a screech, and then grinned horribly in my face.

”Who are you?” I repeated. ”Where do you live?”

But though his mouth moved, as though he replied, no sound escaped him.

I spoke again, but he only laughed wildly, his thin fingers twitching.

”Ho! ho! ho!” he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, pointing back to the neglected garden.

”I wonder what he means!” exclaimed Jack.

”Why, I believe he's an idiot!” I remarked.

”He has every appearance of one,” declared my companion, who then addressed him, with the same negative result.

Again the weird, repulsive youth pointed back to the garden, and, laughing hideously, uttered some words in gibberish which were quite unintelligible.

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