Part 14 (1/2)

”He, no doubt, believed that he had killed the Squire,” suggested Lena, who had been following the conversation with undisguised interest.

Meadows shook his head.

”Or he was interrupted by hearing the butler's footsteps in the pa.s.sage,” hazarded Laurence.

”In the latter case,” said the doctor, ”I should say 'no,' because, from what I can gather, there is no suitable hiding-place in the room in which he could have concealed himself when the butler came in. There is always the bed, of course, but I am inclined to think that he was interrupted in some other way. The question is, how? It might be answered if we learned that anything had been found in the room--anything unusual, that is to say. However, we will not trouble about that now. What should be done is to have the barn thoroughly overhauled. Once we discover the hiding-place of this creature, we shall be well on in our investigation.”

Laurence was about to reply when an interruption occurred. As on the occasion of the last visit to Durley Dene, the doctor's strange servant appeared in the doorway. This time his dusky face was pale, and he appeared to be in a great state of alarm.

”Here, quick, I want you! Come down at once, will you?” he whispered in the doctor's ear, but not so low that the visitors could not catch the words.

The man looked significantly at his master, who rose in haste.

”I regret that I shall have to close this very pleasant interview,” he said, in a quivering voice. ”Unexpected business causes my retirement.

But, come, we must meet again before long. I will show you to the door.

Lead the way, if you please, Horncastle.”

As Meadows uttered this last word the servant turned to him and frowned angrily, not aware that both the visitors were watching him.

”Lead the way, Smith, I mean. I always confound your name with that of my last valet,” Dr. Meadows added, as though prompted by the servant's expression of annoyance.

The shutter of a landing window had been drawn back, so that the light from outside feebly pierced the darkness within. Thus was the journey downstairs made easier. The doctor walked in front with the servant.

Laurence made way at the top of the staircase for Lena to go before him.

This she would not do, however, but, fumbling in the semi-darkness, she found her lover's hand, caught it, and did not release her hold until the two were safely outside in the dazzling heat of the day.

The door closed behind them.

”How glad I am to get into the outside world once again!” cried Lena, joyfully, when they had reached the gate of Durley Dene. ”Doctor Meadows is very kind and nice, and a perfect gentleman, yet there is such a distinct air of mystery about the house, one is given such an impression that the place is peopled by ghosts, that I must confess I should have been frightened had I been alone there to-day. But, Laurence, the mystery is no more solved than ever. It seems to get deeper every time we make a fresh discovery. We know now that the doctor has nothing to do with the Squire--I mean that he is not connected with the a.s.saults--and yet he informs us that he not only knew your father and his secret, but could explain the whole mystery, if allowed to do so.”

”That's what he says,” answered Laurence. ”Is it the truth? And what is the urgent business on which he was called away?”

By this time the porch of the Manse was reached, but the door being closed, and Laurence having mislaid his key, it was necessary to wait for a servant to answer the bell.

”Did you hear,” asked Lena, ”that he called the servant Horncastle, and then corrected himself?”

”Indeed I did; and in spite of all he said about truth being the best policy, I feel sure he was lying again when he explained that a former servant was called Horncastle. By the way, Horncastle is no common name, is it? Somehow I believe I've heard it before. Do you know anyone called Horncastle? I certainly have some reason for recollecting the name.”

At that moment Kingsford appeared at the door.

”Do you happen to know the name 'Horncastle'?” casually asked Laurence of the butler, as he followed Lena into the house.

”Horncastle, sir?” repeated Kingsford, who, as an old retainer, was never treated quite as one of the domestic servants. ”No, I can't say I know anyone o' that name, Mister Laurence, leastways excepting 'the'

Horncastle.”

”And who is 'the' Horncastle?” asked Laurence, pausing to hear the old man's answer.