Part 20 (1/2)
The three then drove slowly back to the top of the bluff, and on the way Bertrand explained to the Elder all that had transpired. ”It seemed best to Mary and me that you should look the ground over yourself, before any action be taken. We hoped appearances might be deceptive, and that you would have information that would set our fears at rest before news of a mystery should reach the town.”
”Where are the boys who found these things?”
Mr. Walters spoke, ”My son was one of them, and he is now at home.
They are forbidden to speak to any one until we know more about it.”
Arrived at the top of the bluff the three men went carefully over the ground, even descending the steep path to the margin of the river.
”There,” said Bertrand, ”the notebook was picked up on that flat rock which juts out from that narrow ledge. John Walters crawled along the ledge to get it. The handkerchief was caught on that thorn shrub, halfway up, see? And the pencil was picked up down here, somewhere.”
The Elder looked up to the top of the bluff and down at the rus.h.i.+ng river beneath, and as he looked he seemed visibly to shrink and become in the instant an old man--older by twenty years. As they climbed back again, his shoulders drooped and his breath came hard. As they neared the top, Bertrand turned and gave him his aid to gain a firm footing above.
”Don't forget that we can't always trust to appearances,” he urged.
”Some heavy body--heavier than a clod of earth, has gone down there,”
said the Elder, and his voice sounded weak and thin.
”Yes, yes. But even so, a stone may have been dislodged. You can't be sure.”
”Ay, the lads might have been wrestling in play--or the like--and sent a rock over; it's like lads, that,” hazarded Mr. Walters.
”Wrestling on the Sabbath evening! They are men, not lads.”
Mr. Walters looked down in embarra.s.sment, and the old man continued.
”Would a stone leave a handkerchief clinging to a thorn? Would it leave a notebook thrown down on yonder rock?” The Elder lifted his head and looked to the sky: holding one hand above his head he shook it toward heaven. ”Would a stone leave a hat marked with a b.l.o.o.d.y hand--my son's hat? There has been foul play here. May the curse of G.o.d fall on him who has robbed me of my son, be he stranger or my own kin.”
His voice broke and he reeled backward and would have fallen over the brink but for Bertrand's quickness. Then, trembling and bowed, his two friends led him back to the carryall and no further word was spoken until they reached the village, when the Elder said:--
”Will you kindly drive me to the bank, Mr. Ballard?”
They did so. No one was there, and the Elder quietly unlocked the door and carried the articles found on the bluff into the room beyond and locked them away. Bertrand followed him, loath to leave him thus, and anxious to make a suggestion. The Elder opened the door of a cupboard recessed into the wall and laid the hat on a high shelf. Then he took the stick and looked at it with a sudden awakening in his eyes as if he saw it for the first time.
”This stick--this blackthorn stick--accursed! How came it here? I thought it had been burned. It was left years ago in my front hall by--Richard's father. I condemned it to be burned.”
”Peter Junior was using that in place of his crutch, no doubt because of its strength. He had it at my house, and I recognize it now as one Larry brought over with him--”
”Peter was using it! My G.o.d! My G.o.d! The blow was struck with this. It is my son who is the murderer, and I have called down the curse of G.o.d on him? It falls--it falls on me!” He sank in his chair--the same in which he had sat when he talked with Peter Junior--and bowed his head in his arms. ”It is enough, Mr. Ballard. Will you leave me?”
”I can't leave you, sir: there is more to be said. We must not be hasty in forming conclusions. If any one was thrown over the bluff, it must have been your son, for he was lame and could not have saved himself. If he struck any one, he could not have killed him; for evidently he got away, unless he also went over the brink. If he got away, he must be found. There is something for you to do, Elder Craigmile.”
The old man lifted his head and looked in Bertrand's face, pitifully seeking there for help. ”You are a good man, Mr. Ballard. I need your counsel and help.”
”First, we will go below the rapids and search; the sooner the better, for in the strong current there is no telling how far--”
”Yes, we will search.” The Elder lifted himself to his full height, inspired by the thought of action. ”We'll go now.” He looked down on his shorter friend, and Bertrand looked up to him, his genial face saddened with sympathy, yet glowing with kindliness.
”Wait a little, Elder; let us consider further. Mr. Walters--sit down, Elder Craigmile, for a moment--Mr. Walters is capable, and he can organize the search; for if you keep this from your wife, you must be discreet. Here is something I haven't shown you before. It is the charm from Richard's watch. It was almost covered with earth where they had been struggling, and Mary found it. You see there is a mystery--and let us hope whatever happened was an accident. The evidences are so--so--mingled, that no one may know whom to blame.”