Part 16 (2/2)
Say it right out if you have. We don't lynch here. At least,” he corrected himself as he recalled the telegraph posts, ”it hasn't been done yet.”
”I _can't_ suspect any one!” she said earnestly. ”I never met any one in my life that I could possibly imagine doing such a thing!”
”No,” he said. ”I guess our experiences have been pretty different. I've met lots, but then there are none of those boys here. Who is there in this place?”
He paused and stared into s.p.a.ce.
”It must have been a tramp--some one who doesn't belong here!”
”I was trying to think whether there are any lunatics about,” he said in a moment. ”But there aren't any.”
There was silence for some minutes. He was thinking; she never moved.
Then he heard a sound, and looking down saw that she had her handkerchief in her hand. He had nearly bent over her before he remembered Sir Malcolm, and at the recollection he said abruptly:
”Well, I've disturbed you too long. If I can do anything--anything whatever, you'll let me know, won't you?”
”You are very, very kind,” she murmured, and a note in her voice nearly made him forget the new baronet. In fact, he had to retire rather quickly to be sure of himself.
The efficiency of James Bisset was manifest at every conjuncture.
Businesslike and brisk he appeared from somewhere as Cromarty reached the hall, and led him from the front regions to the butler's sitting room.
”I will bring your lunch in a moment, sir,” he murmured, and vanished briskly.
The room looked out on a courtyard at the back, and through the window Ned could see against the opposite buildings the rain driving in clouds.
In the court the wind was eddying, and beneath some door he could hear it drone insistently. Though the toughest of men, he s.h.i.+vered a little and drew up a wicker chair close in front of the fire.
”It's incredible!” he murmured, and as he stared at the flames this thought seemed to haunt him all the time.
Bisset laid the table and another hour pa.s.sed. Ned ate a little lunch and then smoked and stared at the fire while the wind droned and bl.u.s.tered without ceasing, and occasionally a cross gust sent the rain drops softly pattering on the panes.
”I'm d.a.m.ned if I see a thing!” he suddenly exclaimed half aloud, and jumped to his feet.
Before he had time to start for the door, Bisset's mysterious efficiency was made manifest again. Precisely as he was wanted, he appeared, and this time it was clear that his own efforts had not been altogether fruitless. He had in fact an air of even greater complacency than usual.
”I have arrived at certain conclusions, sir,” he announced.
XIII
THE DEDUCTIVE PROCESS
Bisset laid on the table a sheet of note paper.
”Here,” said he, ”is a kin' of bit sketch plan of the library. Observing this plan attentively, you will notice two crosses, marked A and B. A is where yon wee table was standing--no the place against the wall where it was standing this morning, but where it was standing before it was knocked over last night. B is where the corp was found. You follow that, sir?”
Ned nodded.
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