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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/20494-8.txt b/20494-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8cf7187 --- /dev/null +++ b/20494-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11029 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Shrieking Pit, by Arthur J. Rees + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Shrieking Pit + +Author: Arthur J. Rees + +Release Date: February 2, 2007 [EBook #20494] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SHRIEKING PIT *** + + + + +Produced by Marcia, Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + +THE +SHRIEKING PIT + +BY + +ARTHUR J. REES + +CO-AUTHOR OF +THE MYSTERY OF THE DOWNS, +THE HAMPSTEAD MYSTERY. + +NEW YORK +GROSSET & DUNLAP +PUBLISHERS + +Made in the United States of America + + +COPYRIGHT, 1918, +BY STREET & SMITH CORPORATION + +COPYRIGHT, 1919, +BY JOHN LANE COMPANY + + ++--------------------------------------------------------------------+ +|Transcriber's Notes: Obvious printer errors have been corrected, all| +|other inconsistencies are as in the original. | ++--------------------------------------------------------------------+ + + + + +TO + +MY SISTERS IN AUSTRALIA + +ANNIE AND FRANCES + + + _The sea beats in at Blakeney-- + Beats wild and waste at Blakeney; + O'er ruined quay and cobbled street, + O'er broken masts of fisher fleet, + Which go no more to sea._ + + _The bitter pools at ebb-tide lie, + In barren sands at Blakeney; + Green, grey and green the marshes creep, + To where the grey north waters leap + By dead and silent Blakeney._ + + _And Time is dead at Blakeney-- + In old, forgotten Blakeney; + What care they for Time's Scythe or Glass; + Who do not feel the hours pass, + Who sleep in sea-worn Blakeney?_ + + _By the old grey church in Blakeney, + By quenched turret light in Blakeney, + They slumber deep, they do not know, + If Life's told tale is Death and Woe; + Through all eternity._ + + _But Love still lives at Blakeney, + 'Tis graven deep at Blakeney; + Of Love which seeks beyond the grave, + Of Love's sad faith which fain would save-- + The headstones tell the story._ + + _Grave-grasses grow at Blakeney + Sea pansies, sedge, and rosemary; + Frail fronds thrust forth in dim dank air, + A message from those lying there: + Wan leaves of memory._ + + _I send you this from Blakeney-- + From distant, dreaming Blakeney; + Love and Remembrance: These are sure; + Though Death is strong they shall endure, + Till all things cease to be._ + +_A. J. R._ + +_Blakeney, +Norfolk._ + + + + +PREFACE + + +As the scenes of this story are laid in a part of Norfolk which will be +readily identified by many Norfolk people, it is perhaps well to state +that all the personages are fictitious, and that the Norfolk police +officials who appear in the book have no existence outside these pages. +They and the other characters are drawn entirely from imagination. + +To East Anglian readers I offer my apologies for any faults there may be +in reproducing the Norfolk dialect. My excuse is the fascination the +language produced on myself, and that it is as essential to the scene of +the story as the marshes and the sea. Though I have found it impossible +to transliterate the pronunciation into the ordinary English alphabet, I +hope I have been able to convey enough of the characteristic speech of +the native to enable those familiar with it to put it for themselves +into the accents of their own people. To those who are not familiar with +the dialect, I can only say, "Go and study this relic of old English in +that remote part of the country where the story is laid, where the +ghosts of a ruined past mingle with the primitive survivors of to-day, +who walk very near the unseen." + + +A. J. R. +LONDON + + + + +THE SHRIEKING PIT + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +Colwyn had never seen anything quite so eccentric in a public room as +the behaviour of the young man breakfasting alone at the alcove table in +the bay embrasure, and he became so absorbed in watching him that he +permitted his own meal to grow cold, impatiently waving away the waiter +who sought with obtrusive obsequiousness to recall his wandering +attention by thrusting the menu card before him. + +To outward seeming the occupant of the alcove table was a good-looking +young man, whose clear blue eyes, tanned skin and well-knit frame +indicated the truly national product of common sense, cold water, and +out-of-door pursuits; of a wholesomely English if not markedly +intellectual type, pleasant to look at, and unmistakably of good birth +and breeding. When a young man of this description, your fellow guest at +a fashionable seaside hotel, who had been in the habit of giving you a +courteous nod on his morning journey across the archipelago of +snowy-topped tables under the convoy of the head waiter to his own +table, comes in to breakfast with shaking hands, flushed face, and +passes your table with unseeing eyes, you would probably conclude that +he was under the influence of liquor, and in your English way you would +severely blame him, not so much for the moral turpitude involved in his +excess as for the bad taste, which prompted him to show himself in public +in such a condition. If, on reaching his place, the young man's conduct +took the additional extravagant form of picking up a table-knife and +sticking it into the table in front of him, you would probably enlarge +your previous conclusion by admitting the hypotheses of drugs or +dementia to account for such remarkable behaviour. + +All these things were done by the young man at the alcove table in the +breakfast room of the Grand Hotel, Durrington, on an October morning in +the year 1916; but Colwyn, who was only half an Englishman, and, +moreover, had an original mind, did not attribute them to drink, +morphia, or madness. Colwyn flattered himself that he knew the outward +signs of these diseases too well to be deceived into thinking that the +splendid specimen of young physical manhood at the far table was the +victim of any of them. His own impression was that it was a case of +shell-shock. It was true that, apart from the doubtful evidence of a +bronzed skin and upright frame, there was nothing about him to suggest +that he had been a soldier: no service lapel or regimental badge in his +grey Norfolk jacket. But an Englishman of his class would be hardly +likely to wear either once he had left the Army. It was almost certain +that he must have seen service in the war, and by no means improbable +that he had been bowled over by shell-shock, like many thousands more of +equally splendid specimens of young manhood. Any other conclusion to +account for the strange condition of a young man like him seemed +unworthy and repellent. + +"It _must_ be shell-shock, and a very bad case--probably supposed to be +cured, and sent up here to recuperate," thought Colwyn. "I'll keep an +eye on him." + +As Colwyn resumed his breakfast it occurred to him that some of the +other guests might have been alarmed by the young man's behaviour, and +he cast his eyes round the room to see if anybody else had noticed him. + +There were about thirty guests in the big breakfast apartment, which had +been built to accommodate five times the number--a charming, luxuriously +furnished place, with massive white pillars supporting a frescoed +ceiling, and lighted by numerous bay windows opening on to the North +Sea, which was sparkling brightly in a brilliant October sunshine. The +thirty people comprised the whole of the hotel visitors, for in the year +1916 holiday seekers preferred some safer resort than a part of the +Norfolk coast which lay in the track of enemy airships seeking a way to +London. + +Two nights before a Zeppelin had dropped a couple of bombs on the +Durrington front, and the majority of hotel visitors had departed by the +next morning's train, disregarding the proprietor's assurance that the +affair was a pure accident, a German oversight which was not likely to +happen again. Off the nervous ones went, and left the big hotel, the +long curved seafront, the miles of yellow sand, the high green +headlands, the best golf-links in the East of England, and all the other +attractions mentioned in the hotel advertisements, to a handful of +people, who were too nerve-proof, lazy, fatalistic, or indifferent to +bother about Zeppelins. + +These thirty guests, scattered far and wide over the spacious isolation +of the breakfast-room, in twos and threes, and little groups, seemed, +with one exception, too engrossed in the solemn British rite of +beginning the day well with a good breakfast to bother their heads about +the conduct of the young man at the alcove table. They were, for the +most part, characteristic war-time holiday-makers: the men, obviously +above military age, in Norfolk tweeds or golf suits; two young officers +at a table by the window, and--as indifference to Zeppelins is not +confined to the sterner sex--a sprinkling of ladies, plump and matronly, +or of the masculine walking type, with two charmingly pretty girls and a +gay young war widow to leaven the mass. + +The exception was a tall and portly gentleman with a slightly bald head, +glossy brown beard, gold-rimmed eye-glasses perilously balanced on a +prominent nose, and an important manner. He was breakfasting alone at a +table not far from Colwyn's, and Colwyn noticed that he kept glancing at +the alcove table where the young man sat. As Colwyn looked in his +direction their eyes met, and the portly gentleman nodded portentously +in the direction of the alcove table, as an indication that he also had +been watching the curious behaviour of the occupant. A moment afterwards +he got up and walked across to the pillar against which Colwyn's table +was placed. + +"Will you permit me to take a seat at your table?" he remarked urbanely. +"I am afraid we are going to have trouble over there directly," he +added, sinking his voice as he nodded in the direction of the distant +alcove table. "We may have to act promptly. Nobody else seems to have +noticed anything. We can watch him from behind this pillar without his +seeing us." + +Colwyn nodded in return with a quick comprehension of all the other's +speech implied, and pushed a chair towards his visitor, who sat down and +resumed his watch of the young man at the alcove table. Colwyn bestowed +a swift glance on his companion which took in everything. The tall man +in glasses looked too human for a lawyer, too intelligent for a +schoolmaster, and too well-dressed for an ordinary medical man. Colwyn, +versed in judging men swiftly from externals, noting the urbane, +somewhat pompous face, the authoritative, professional pose, the +well-shaped, plump white hands, and the general air of well-being and +prosperity which exuded from the whole man, placed him as a successful +practitioner in the more lucrative path of medicine--probably a +fashionable Harley Street specialist. + +Colwyn returned to his scrutiny of the young man at the alcove table, +and he and his companion studied him intently for some time in silence. +But the young man, for the moment, was comparatively quiet, gazing +moodily through the open window over the waters of the North Sea, an +untasted sole in front of him, and an impassive waiter pouring out his +coffee as though the spectacle of a young man sticking a knife into the +table-cloth was a commonplace occurrence at the Grand Hotel, and all in +the day's doings. When the waiter had finished pouring out the coffee +and noiselessly departed, the young man tasted it with an indifferent +air, pushed it from him, and resumed his former occupation of staring +out of the window. + +"He seems quiet enough now," observed Colwyn, turning to his companion. +"What do you think is the matter with him--shell-shock?" + +"I would not care to hazard a definite opinion on so cursory an +observation," returned the other, in a dry, reticent, ultra-professional +manner. "But I will go so far as to say that I do not think it is a case +of shell-shock. If it is what I suspect, that first attack was the +precursor of another, possibly a worse attack. Ha! it is commencing. +Look at his thumb--that is the danger signal!" + +Colwyn looked across the room again. The young man was still sitting in +the same posture, with his gaze bent on the open sea. His left hand was +extended rigidly on the table in front of him, with the thumb, extended +at right angles, oscillating rapidly in a peculiar manner. + +"This attack may pass away like the other, but if he looks round at +anybody, and makes the slightest move, we must secure him immediately," +said Colwyn's companion, speaking in a whisper. + +He had barely finished speaking when the young man turned his head from +the open window and fixed his blue eyes vacantly on the table nearest +him, where an elderly clergyman, a golfing friend, and their wives, were +breakfasting together. With a swift movement the young man got up, and +started to walk towards this table. + +Colwyn, who was watching every movement of the young man closely, could +not determine, then or afterwards, whether he meditated an attack on the +occupants of the next table, or merely intended to leave the breakfast +room. The clergyman's table was directly in front of the alcove and in a +line with the pair of swinging glass doors which were the only exit from +the breakfast-room. But Colwyn's companion did not wait for the matter +to be put to the test. At the first movement of the young man he sprang +to his feet and, without waiting to see whether Colwyn was following +him, raced across the room and caught the young man by the arm while he +was yet some feet away from the clergyman's table. The young man +struggled desperately in his grasp for some moments, then suddenly +collapsed and fell inert in the other's arms. Colwyn walked over to the +spot in time to see his portly companion lay the young man down on the +carpet and bend over to loosen his collar. + +The young man lay apparently unconscious on the floor, breathing +stertorously, with convulsed features and closed eyes. After the lapse +of some minutes he opened his eyes, glanced listlessly at the circle of +frightened people who had gathered around him, and feebly endeavoured +to sit up. Colwyn's companion, who was bending over him feeling his +heart, helped him to a sitting posture, and then, glancing at the faces +crowded around, exclaimed in a sharp voice: + +"He wants air. Please move back there a little." + +"Certainly, Sir Henry." It was a stout man in a check golfing suit who +spoke. "But the ladies are very anxious to know if it is anything +serious." + +"No, no. He will be quite all right directly. Just fall back, and give +him more air. Here, you!"--this to one of the gaping waiters--"just slip +across to the office and find out the number of this gentleman's room." + +The waiter hurried away and speedily returned with the proprietor of the +hotel, a little man in check trousers and a frock coat, with a bald head +and an anxious, yet resigned eye which was obviously prepared for the +worst. His demeanour was that of a man who, already overloaded by +misfortune, was bracing his sinews to bear the last straw. As he +approached the group near the alcove table he smoothed his harassed +features into an expression of solicitude, and, addressing himself to +the man who was supporting the young man on the floor, said, in a voice +intended to be sympathetic, + +"I thought I had better come myself, Sir Henry. I could not understand +from Antoine what you wanted or what had happened. Antoine said +something about somebody dying in the breakfast-room----" + +"Nothing of the sort!" snapped the gentleman addressed as Sir Henry, +shifting his posture a little so as to enable the young man to lean +against his shoulder. "Haven't you eyes in your head, Willsden? Cannot +you see for yourself that this gentleman has merely had a fainting +fit?" + +"I'm delighted to hear it, Sir Henry," replied the hotel proprietor. But +his face expressed no visible gratification. To a man who had had his +hotel emptied by a Zeppelin raid the difference between a single guest +fainting instead of dying was merely infinitesimal. + +"Who is this gentleman, and what's the number of his room?" continued +Sir Henry. "He will be better lying quietly on his bed." + +"His name is Ronald, and his room is No. 32--on the first floor, Sir +Henry." + +"Very good. I'll take him up there at once." + +"Shall I help you, Sir Henry? Perhaps he could be carried up. One of the +waiters could take his feet, or perhaps it would be better to have two." + +"There's not the slightest necessity. He'll be able to walk in a +minute--with a little assistance. Ah, that's better!" The abrupt manner +in which Sir Henry addressed the hotel proprietor insensibly softened +itself into the best bedside manner when he spoke to the patient on the +carpet, who, from a sitting posture, was now endeavouring to struggle to +his feet. "You think you can get up, eh? Well, it won't do you any harm. +That's the way!" Sir Henry assisted the young man to rise, and supported +him with his arm. "Now, the next thing is to get him to his room. No, +no, not you, Willsden--you're too small. Where's that gentleman I was +sitting with a few minutes ago? Ah, thank you"--as Colwyn stepped +forward and took the other arm--"now, let us take him gently upstairs." + +The young man allowed himself to be led away without resistance. He +walked, or rather stumbled, along between his guides like a man in a +dream. Colwyn noticed that his eyes were half-closed, and that his head +sagged slightly from side to side as he was led along. A waiter held +open the glass doors which led into the lounge, and a palpitating +chambermaid, hastily summoned from the upper regions, tripped ahead up +the broad carpeted stairs and along the passage to show the way to the +young man's bedroom. + + + +CHAPTER II + + +Sir Henry dismissed the chambermaid at the door, and Colwyn and he +lifted the young man on to the bed. He lay like a man in a stupor, +breathing heavily, his face flushed, his eyes nearly closed. Sir Henry +drew up the blind, and by the additional light examined him thoroughly, +listening closely to the action of his heart, and examining the pupils +of his eyes by rolling back the upper lid with some small instrument he +took from his pocket. + +"He'll do now," he said, after loosening the patient's clothes for his +greater comfort. "He'll come to in about five minutes, and may be all +right again shortly afterwards. But there are certain peculiar features +about this case which are new in my experience, and rather alarm me. +Certainly the young man ought not to be left to himself. His friends +should be sent for. Do you know anything about him? Is he staying at the +hotel alone? I only arrived here last night." + +"I believe he is staying at the hotel alone. He has been here for a +fortnight or more, and I have never seen him speak to anybody, though I +have exchanged nods with him every morning. His principal recreation +seems to lie in taking long solitary walks along the coast. He has been +in the habit of going out every day, and not returning until dinner is +half over. Perhaps the hotel proprietor knows who his friends are." + +"Would you be so kind as to step downstairs and inquire? I do not wish +to leave him, but his friends should be telegraphed to at once and asked +to come and take charge of him." + +"Certainly. And I'll send the telegram while I am down there." + +But Colwyn returned in a few moments to say that the hotel proprietor +knew nothing of his guest. He had never stayed in the house before, and +he had booked his room by a trunk call from London. On arrival he had +filled in the registration paper in the name of James Ronald, but had +left blank the spaces for his private and business addresses. He looked +such a gentleman that the proprietor had not ventured to draw his +attention to the omissions. + +"Another instance of how hotels neglect to comply with the requirements +of the Defence of the Realm Act!" exclaimed Sir Henry. "Really, it is +very awkward. I hardly know, in the circumstances, how to act. Speaking +as a medical man, I say that he should not be left alone, but if he +orders us out of his room when he recovers his senses what are we to do? +Can you suggest anything?" He shot a keen glance at his companion. + +"I should be in a better position to answer you if I knew what you +consider him to be really suffering from. I was under the impression it +was a bad case of shell-shock, but your remarks suggest that it is +something worse. May I ask, as you are a medical man, what you consider +the nature of his illness?" + +Sir Henry bestowed another searching glance on the speaker. He noted, +for the first time, the keen alertness and intellectuality of the +other's face. It was a fine strong face, with a pair of luminous grey +eyes, a likeable long nose, and clean-shaven, humorous mouth--a man to +trust and depend upon. + +"I hardly know what to do," said Sir Henry, after a lengthy pause, which +he had evidently devoted to considering the wisdom of acceding to his +companion's request. "This gentleman has not consulted me +professionally, and I hardly feel justified in confiding my hurried and +imperfect diagnosis of his case, without his knowledge, to a perfect +stranger. On the other hand, there are reasons why somebody should know, +if we are to help him in his weak state. Perhaps, sir, if you told me +your name----" + +"Certainly: my name is Colwyn--Grant Colwyn." + +"You are the famous American detective of that name?" + +"You are good enough to say so." + +"Why not? Who has not heard of you, and your skill in the unravelling of +crime? There are many people on both sides of the Atlantic who regard +you as a public benefactor. But I am surprised. You do not at all +resemble my idea of Colwyn." + +"Why not?" + +"You do not talk like an American, for one thing." + +"You forget I have been over here long enough to learn the language. +Besides, I am half English." + +Sir Henry laughed good-humouredly. + +"That's a fair answer, Mr. Colwyn. Of course, your being Colwyn alters +the question. I have no hesitation in confiding in you. I am Sir Henry +Durwood--no doubt you have heard of me. Naturally, I have to be +careful." + +Colwyn looked at his companion with renewed interest. Who had not heard +of Sir Henry Durwood, the nerve specialist whose skill had made his name +a household word amongst the most exclusive women in England, and, +incidentally, won him a knighthood? There were professional detractors +who hinted that Sir Henry had climbed into the heaven of Harley Street +and fat fees by the ladder of social influence which a wealthy, +well-born wife had provided, with no qualifications of his own except +"the best bedside manner in England" and a thorough knowledge of the +weaknesses of the feminine temperament. But his admirers--and they were +legion--declared that Sir Henry Durwood was the only man in London who +really understood how to treat the complex nervous system of the present +generation. These thoughts ran through Colwyn's mind as he murmured that +the opinion of such an eminent specialist as Sir Henry Durwood on the +case before them must naturally outweigh his own. + +"You are very good to say so." Sir Henry spoke as though the tribute +were no more than his due. "In my opinion, the symptoms of this young +man point to epilepsy, and his behaviour downstairs was due to a seizure +from which he is slowly recovering." + +"Epilepsy! Haut or petit mal?" + +"The lesser form--petit mal, in my opinion." + +"But are his symptoms consistent with the form of epilepsy known as +petit mal, Sir Henry? I thought in that lesser form of the disease the +victim merely suffered from slight seizures of transient +unconsciousness, without convulsions, regaining control of himself after +losing himself, to speak broadly, for a few seconds or so." + +"Ah, I see you know something of the disease. That simplifies matters. +The layman's mind is usually at sea when it comes to discussing a +complicated affection of the nervous system like epilepsy. You are more +or less right in your definition of petit mal. But that is the simple +form, without complications. In this case there are complications, in my +opinion. I should say that this young man's attack was combined with the +form of epilepsy known as _furor epilepticus_." + +"I am afraid you are getting beyond my depth, Sir Henry. What is _furor +epilepticus_?" + +"It is a term applied to the violence sometimes displayed by the +patient during an attack of petit mal. The manifestation is extreme +violence--usually much greater than in violent anger, as a rule." + +"I believe there are cases on record of epileptics having committed the +most violent outrages against those nearest and dearest to them. Is that +what you mean by _furor epilepticus_?" + +"Yes; but that attacks are generally directed towards strangers--rarely +towards loved ones, though there have been such cases." + +"I begin to understand. When we were at the breakfast table your +professional eye diagnosed this young man's symptoms--his nervous +tremors, his excitability, and the extravagant action with the knife--as +premonitory symptoms of an attack of _furor epilepticus_, in which the +sufferer would be liable to a dangerous outburst of violence?" + +"Exactly. The minor symptoms suggested petit mal, but the act of +sticking the knife into the table pointed strongly to the complication +of _furor epilepticus_. That was why I went over to your table to have +your assistance in case of trouble." + +"You feared he would attack one of the guests?" + +"Yes, epileptics are extremely dangerous in that condition, and will +commit murder if they are in possession of a weapon. There have been +cases in which they have succeeded in killing the victims of their +fury." + +"Without being conscious of it?" + +"Without being conscious of it then or afterwards. After the patient +recovers from one of these attacks his mind is generally a complete +blank, but occasionally he will have a troubled or confused sense of +something having happened to him--like a man awakened from a bad dream, +which he cannot recall. This young man may come to his senses without +remembering anything which occurred downstairs, or he may be vaguely +alarmed, and ask a number of questions. In either case, it will be some +time--from half an hour to several hours--before his mind begins to work +normally again." + +"Do you think it was his intention, when he got up from his table, to +attack the group at the table nearest him--that elderly clergyman and +his party?" + +"I think it highly probable that he would have attacked the first person +within his reach--that is why I wanted to prevent him." + +"But he didn't carry the knife with him from his table." + +"My dear sir"--Sir Henry's voice conveyed the proper amount of +professional superiority--"you speak as though you thought a victim of +_furor epilepticus_ was a rational being. He is nothing of the kind. +While the attack lasts he is an uncontrollable maniac, not responsible +for his actions in the slightest degree." + +"But, if he is capable of conceiving the idea of attacking his fellow +creatures, surely he is capable of picking up a knife for the purpose, +particularly when he has just previously had one in his hand?" urged +Colwyn. "I have no intention of setting up my opinion against yours, Sir +Henry, but there are certain aspects of this young man's illness which +are not altogether consistent with my own experience of epileptics. As a +criminologist, I have given some study to the effect of epilepsy and +other nervous diseases on the criminal temperament. For instance, this +young man did not give the usual cry of an epileptic when he sprang up +from the table. And if it is merely an attack of petit mal, why is he so +long in recovering consciousness?" + +"The so-called epileptic cry is not invariably present, and petit mal +is sometimes the half-way house to haut mal," responded Sir Henry. "I +have said that this case presents several unusual features, but, in my +opinion, there is nothing absolutely inconsistent with epilepsy, +combined with _furor epilepticus_. And here is one symptom rarely found +in any fit except an epileptic seizure." The specialist pointed to a +faint fleck of foam which showed beneath the young man's brown +moustache. + +Colwyn bent over him and wiped his lips with his handkerchief. As he did +so the young man's eyes unclosed. He regarded Colwyn languidly for a +moment or two, and then sat upright on the bed. + +"Who are you?" he exclaimed. + +"It's quite all right, Mr. Ronald," said the specialist, in his most +soothing bedside manner. "Just take things easily. You have been ill, +but you are almost yourself again. Let me feel your pulse--ha, very good +indeed! We will have you on your legs in no time." + +The young man verified the truth of the latter prediction by springing +off his bed and regarding his visitors keenly. There was now, at all +events, no lack of sanity and intelligence in his gaze. + +"What has happened? How did I get here?" + +"You fainted, and we brought you up to your room," interposed Colwyn +tactfully, before Sir Henry could speak. + +"Awfully kind of you. I remember now. I felt a bit seedy as I went +downstairs, but I thought it would pass off. I don't remember much more +about it. I hope I didn't make too much of an ass of myself before the +others, going off like a girl in that way. You must have had no end of a +bother in dragging me upstairs--very good of you to take the trouble." +He smiled faintly, and produced a cigarette case. + +"How do you feel now?" asked Sir Henry Durwood solemnly, disregarding +the proffered case. + +"A bit as though I'd been kicked on the top of the head by a horse, but +it'll soon pass off. Fact is, I got a touch of sun when I was out +there"--he waved his hand vaguely towards the East--"and it gives me a +bit of trouble at times. But I'll be all right directly. I'm sorry to +have given you so much trouble." + +He proffered this explanation with an easy courtesy, accompanied by a +slight deprecating smile which admirably conveyed the regret of a +well-bred man for having given trouble to strangers. It was difficult to +reconcile his self-control with his previous extravagance downstairs. +But to Colwyn it was apparent that his composure was simulated, the +effort of a sensitive man who had betrayed a weakness to strangers, for +the fingers which held a cigarette trembled slightly, and there were +troubled shadows in the depths of the dark blue eyes. Colwyn admired the +young man's pluck--he would wish to behave the same way himself in +similar circumstances, he felt--and he realised that the best service he +and Sir Henry Durwood could render their fellow guest was to leave him +alone. + +But Sir Henry was far from regarding the matter in the same light. As a +doctor he was more at home in other people's bedrooms than his own, for +rumour whispered that Lady Durwood was so jealous of her husband's +professional privileges as a fashionable ladies' physician that she was +in the habit of administering strong doses of matrimonial truths to him +every night at home. Sir Henry settled himself in his chair, adjusted +his eye-glasses more firmly on his nose and regarded the young man +standing by the mantelpiece with a bland professional smile, slightly +dashed by the recollection that he was not receiving a fee for his +visit. + +"You have made a good recovery, but you'll need care," he said. +"Speaking as a professional man--I am Sir Henry Durwood--I think it +would be better for you if you had somebody with you who understood your +case. With your--er--complaint, it is very desirable that you should not +be left to the mercy of strangers. I would advise, strongly advise you, +to communicate with your friends. I shall be only too happy to do so on +your behalf if you will give me their address. In the meantime--until +they arrive--my advice to you is to rest." + +A look of annoyance flashed through the young man's eyes. He evidently +resented the specialist's advice; indeed, his glance plainly revealed +that he regarded it as a piece of gratuitous impertinence. He answered +coldly: + +"Many thanks, Sir Henry, but I think I shall be able to look after +myself." + +"That is not an uncommon feature of your complaint," said the +specialist. An oracular shake of the head conveyed more than the words. + +"What do you imagine my complaint, as you term it, to be?" asked the +young man curtly. + +Colwyn wondered whether even a fashionable physician, used to the +freedom with which fashionable ladies discussed their ailments, would +have the courage to tell a stranger that he regarded him as an +epileptic. The matter was not put to the test--perhaps fortunately--for +at that moment there was a sharp tap at the door, which opened to admit +a chambermaid who seemed the last word in frills and smartness. + +"If you please, Sir Henry," said the girl, with a sidelong glance at the +tall handsome young man by the mantelpiece, "Lady Durwood would be +obliged if you would go to her room at once." + +It speaks well for Sir Henry Durwood that the physician was instantly +merged in the husband. "Tell Lady Durwood I will come at once," he said. +"You'll excuse me," he added, with a courtly bow to his patient. +"Perhaps--if you wish--you might care to see me later." + +"Many thanks, Sir Henry, but there will be no need." He bowed gravely to +the specialist, but smiled cordially and held out his hand to Colwyn, as +the latter prepared to follow Sir Henry out of the room. "I hope to see +you later," he said. + +But when Colwyn, after a day spent on the golf-links, went into the +dining-room for dinner that evening, the young man's place was vacant. +After the meal Colwyn went to the office to inquire if Mr. Ronald was +still unwell, and learnt, to his surprise, that he had departed from the +hotel an hour or so after his illness. + + + +CHAPTER III + + +Lunch was over the following day, and the majority of the hotel guests +were assembled in the lounge, some sitting round a log fire which roared +and crackled in the old-fashioned fireplace, others wandering backwards +and forwards to the hotel entrance to cast a weather eye on the black +and threatening sky. + +During the night there had been one of those violent changes in the +weather with which the denizens of the British Isles are not altogether +unfamiliar; a heavy storm had come shrieking down the North Sea, and +though the rain had ceased about eleven o'clock the wind had blown hard +all through the night, bringing with it from the Arctic a driving sleet +and the first touch of bitter, icy, winter cold. + +The ladies of the hotel, who the previous day had paraded the front in +light summer frocks, sat shivering round the fire in furs; and the men +walked up and down in little groups discussing the weather and the war. +The golfers stood apart debating, after their wont, the possibility of +trying a round in spite of the weather. The elderly clergyman was +prepared to risk it if he could find a partner, and, with the aid of an +umbrella held upside down, was demonstrating to an attentive circle the +possibility of going round the most open course in England in the teeth +of the fiercest gale that ever blew, provided that a brassy was used +instead of a driver. + +"I don't see how you could drive a ball with either to-day," said one +of the doubtful ones. "You'd be driving right against the wind for the +first four holes, and when you have the wind behind you at the bend in +the cliff by the fifth, the force of the gale would probably carry your +ball half a mile out to sea. These links here are supposed to be the +most exposed in England." + +"My dear sir, you surely do not call this a gale," retorted the +clergyman. "I have played some of my best games in a stronger wind than +this. And as for this being the most exposed course in England--well, +let me ask you one question: have you ever played over the Worthing +course with a strong northeast gale--a gale, mind you, not a +wind--sweeping over the Downs?" + +"Can't say I have," grunted the previous speaker, a tall cadaverous man, +wrapped from head to foot in a great grey ulster, and wearing woollen +gloves. "In fact, I've never been on the Worthing course." + +"I thought not." The clergyman's face showed a golfer's satisfaction at +having tripped a fellow player. "The Worthing course is the most +difficult course in England, all up hill and down dale, and full of +pitfalls for those who don't know its peculiarities. I had a very +remarkable experience there, last year, with the crack local player--his +handicap was plus two. We played a round in a gale with the wind +whistling over the high downs at the rate of seventy or eighty miles an +hour. My partner didn't want to play at first because of the weather, +but I persuaded him to go round, and I beat him by two up and four to +play solely by relying on the brassy and midiron. He stuck to the +driver, and lost in consequence. I'll just show you how the game went. +Suppose the first hole to be just beyond the hall door there, and you +drive off from here. Now, imagine that umbrella stand--would you mind +moving away a little from it, sir? Thank you--to be a group of fir trees +fully a hundred yards to the right of the fairway. Well, I got a shot +160 yards up the fairway with a low straight ball which never lifted +more than a yard from the green, but my opponent, instead of sticking to +the brassy, as I did, preferred to use his big driver, and what do you +think happened to him? The wind took his ball clean over the fir trees." + +The story was interrupted by the sudden entrance from outside of a young +officer who had been taking a turn on the front. He strode hurriedly +into the lounge, with a look of excitement on his good-humoured boyish +face, and accosted the golfers, who happened to be nearest the door. + +"I say, you fellows, what do you think has happened? You remember that +chap who fainted yesterday morning? Well, he's wanted for committing a +murder!" + +The piece of news created the sensation that its imparter had counted +upon. "A murder!" was echoed from different parts of the lounge in +varying degrees of horror, amazement and dread, and the majority of the +guests came eagerly crowding round to hear the details. + +"Yes, a murder!" repeated the young officer, with relish. "And, what's +more, he committed it after he left here yesterday. He walked across to +some inn a few miles from here along the coast, put up there for the +night, and in the middle of the night stabbed some old chap who was +staying there." + +There was a lengthy pause while the hotel guests digested this startling +information, and endeavoured to register anew their previous faint +impressions of the young man of the alcove table in the new light of his +personality as an alleged murderer. The pause was followed by an excited +hum of conversation and eager questions, the ladies all talking at once. + +"What a providential escape we have all had!" exclaimed the clergyman's +wife, her fresh comely face turning pale. + +"That's just what I said myself, madam, when I heard the news," replied +the young officer. + +"I presume this murderous young ruffian has been secured?" asked the +clergyman, who had turned even paler than his wife. "The police, I hope, +have him under arrest." + +The young officer shook his head. + +"He's shown them a clean pair of heels. He may be heading back this way, +for all I know. There will be a hue and cry over the whole of Norfolk +for him by to-night, but murderers are usually very crafty, and +difficult to catch. I bet they won't catch him before he murders +somebody else." + +The men looked at one another gravely, and some of the ladies gave vent +to cries of alarm, and clung to their husband's arms. The clergyman +turned angrily on the man who had brought the news. + +"What do you mean, sir, by blurting out a piece of news like this before +a number of ladies?" he said sternly. "It was imprudent and foolish in +the last degree. You have alarmed them exceedingly." + +"Oh, that's all tosh!" replied the other rudely. "They were bound to +hear of it sooner or later; why, everybody on the front is talking about +it. I thought you'd be awfully bucked to hear the news, seeing that you +were sitting at the next table to him yesterday morning." + +"Who gave you this information?" asked Colwyn, who had just come down +stairs wearing a motor coat and cap, and paused on his way to the door +on hearing the loud voices of the excited group round the young officer. + +"One of the fishermen on the front. The police constable at the place +where the murder was committed--a little village with some outlandish +name--came over here to report the news. This is the nearest police +station to the spot, it seems." + +"But is he quite certain that the man who is supposed to have committed +the murder is the young man who fainted yesterday morning?" asked Sir +Henry Durwood, who had joined the group. "Has he been positively +identified?" + +"The fisherman tells me that there's no doubt it's him--the +description's identical. He cleared out before the murder was +discovered. There's a rare hue and cry all along the coast. They are +organizing search parties. There's one going out from here this +afternoon. I'm going with it." + +Colwyn left the group of hotel guests, and went to the front door. Sir +Henry Durwood, after a moment's hesitation, followed him. The detective +was standing in the hotel porch, thoughtfully smoking a cigar, and +looking out over the raging sea. He nodded cordially to the specialist. + +"What do you think of this story?" asked Sir Henry. + +"I was just about to walk down to the police station to make some +inquiries," responded Colwyn. "It is impossible to tell from that man's +story how much is truth and how much mere gossip." + +"I'm afraid it's true enough," replied Sir Henry Durwood. "You'll +remember I warned him yesterday to send for his friends. A man in his +condition of health should not have been permitted to wander about the +country unattended. He has probably had another attack of _furor +epilepticus_, and killed somebody while under its influence. Dear, dear, +what a dreadful thing! It may be said that I should have taken a firmer +hand with him yesterday, but what more could I have done? It's a very +awkward situation--very. I hope you'll remember, Mr. Colwyn, that I did +all that was humanly possibly for a professional man to do--in fact, I +went beyond the bounds of professional decorum, in tendering advice to a +perfect stranger. And you will also remember that what I told you about +his condition was in the strictest confidence. I should like very much +to accompany you to the police station, if you have no objection--I feel +strongly interested in the case." + +"I shall be glad if you will come," replied the detective. + +Colwyn turned down the short street to the front, where a footpath +protected by a hand rail had been made along the edge of the cliff for +the benefit of jaded London visitors who wanted to get the best value +for their money in the bracing Norfolk air. At the present moment that +air, shrieking across the North Sea with almost hurricane force, was too +bracing for weak nerves on the exposed path, and it was real hard work +to force a way, even with the help of the handrail, against the wind, to +say nothing of the spray which was flung up in clouds from the +thundering masses of yellow waves dashing at the foot of the cliffs +below. Sir Henry Durwood, at any rate, was very glad when his companion +turned away from the cliffs into one of the narrow tortuous streets +running off the front into High Street. + +Colwyn paused in front of a stone building, half way up the street, +which displayed the words, "County Police," on a board outside. Knots of +people were standing about in the road--fishermen in jerseys and +sea boots, some women, and a sprinkling of children--brought together by +the news of murder, but kept from encroaching on the sacred domain of +law and order by a massive red-faced country policeman, who stood at +the gate in an awkward pose of official dignity, staring straight in +front of him, ignoring the eager questions which were showered on him by +the crowd. The group of people nearest the gate fell back a little as +they approached, and the policeman on duty looked at them inquiringly. + +Colwyn asked him the name of the officer in charge of the district, and +received the reply that it was Superintendent Galloway. The policeman +looked somewhat doubtful when Colwyn asked him to take in his card with +the request for an interview. He compromised between his determination +to do the right thing and his desire not to offend two well-dressed +gentlemen by taking Colwyn into his confidence. + +"Well, you see, sir, it's like this," he said, sinking his voice so that +his remarks should not be heard by the surrounding rabble. "I don't like +to interrupt Superintendent Galloway unless it's very important. The +chief constable is with him." + +"Do you mean Mr. Cromering, from Norwich?" asked Colwyn. + +The policeman nodded. + +"He came over here by the morning train," he explained. + +"Very good. I know Mr. Cromering well. Will you please take this card to +the chief constable and say that I should be glad of the favour of a +short interview? This is a piece of luck," he added to Sir Henry, as the +constable took the card and disappeared into the building. "We shall now +be able to find out all we want to know." + +The police constable came hastening back, and with a very respectful air +informed them that Mr. Cromering would be only too happy to see Mr. +Colwyn. He led them forthwith into the building, down a passage, knocked +at a door, and without waiting for a response, ushered them into a +large room and quietly withdrew. + +There were two officials in the room. One, in uniform, a heavily built +stout man with sandy hair and a red freckled face, sat at a large +roll-top desk writing at the dictation of the other, who wore civilian +clothes. The second official was small and elderly, of dry and meagre +appearance, with a thin pale face, and sunken blue eyes beneath +gold-rimmed spectacles. This gentleman left off dictating as Colwyn and +Sir Henry Durwood entered, and advanced to greet the detective with a +look which might have been mistaken for gratitude in a less important +personage. + +Mr. Cromering's gratitude to Colwyn was not due to any assistance he had +received from the detective in the elucidation of baffling crime +mysteries. It arose from an entirely different cause. Wolfe is supposed +to have said that he would sooner have been remembered as the author of +Gray's "Elegy in a Country Churchyard" than as the conqueror of Quebec. +Mr. Cromering would sooner have been the editor of the _English Review_ +than the chief constable of Norfolk. His tastes were bookish; Nature had +intended him for the librarian of a circulating library: the safe pilot +of middle class ladies through the ocean of new fiction which overwhelms +the British Isles twice a year. His particular hobby was paleontology. +He was the author of _The Jurassic Deposits of Norfolk, with Some +Remarks on the Kimeridge Clay_--an exhaustive study of the geological +formation of the county and the remains of prehistoric reptiles, fishes, +mollusca and crustacea which had been discovered therein. This work, +which had taken six years to prepare, had almost been lost to the world +through the carelessness of the Postal Department, which had allowed +the manuscript to go astray while in transit from Norfolk to the London +publishers. + +The distracted author had stirred up the postal authorities at London +and Norwich, and had ultimately received a courteous communication from +the Postmaster General to the effect that all efforts to trace the +missing packet had failed. A friend of Mr. Cromering's suggested that he +should invoke the aid of the famous detective Colwyn, who had a name for +solving mysteries which baffled the police. Mr. Cromering took the +advice and wrote to Colwyn, offering to mention his name in a preface to +_The Jurassic Deposits_ if he succeeded in recovering the missing +manuscript. Colwyn, by dint of bringing to bear a little more +intelligence and energy than the postal officials had displayed, ran the +manuscript to earth in three days, and forwarded it to the owner with a +courteous note declining the honour of the offered preface as too great +a reward for such a small service. + +"Very happy to meet you, Mr. Colwyn," said the chief constable, as he +came forward with extended hand. "I've long wanted to thank you +personally for your kindness--your great kindness to me last year. +Although I feel I can never repay it, I'm glad to have the opportunity +of expressing it." + +"I'm afraid you are over-estimating a very small service," said Colwyn, +with a smile. + +"Very small?" The chief constable's emphasis of the words suggested that +his pride as an author had been hurt. "If you had not recovered the +manuscript, a work of considerable interest to students of British +paleontology would have been lost. I must show you a letter I have just +received from Sir Thomas Potter, of the British Museum, agreeing with my +conclusions about the fossil remains of Ichthyosaurus, Plesiosaurus, and +Mosasaurs, discovered last year at Roslyn Hole. It is very gratifying +to me; very gratifying. But what can I do for you, Mr. Colwyn?" + +"First let me introduce to you Sir Henry Durwood," said Colwyn. + +"Durwood? Did you say Durwood?" said the little man, eagerly advancing +upon the specialist with outstretched hand. "I'm delighted to meet one +of our topmost men of science. Your illuminating work on Elephas +Meridionalis is a classic." + +"I'm afraid you're confusing Sir Henry with a different Durwood," said +the detective, coming to the rescue. "Sir Henry Durwood is the +distinguished specialist of Harley Street, and not the paleontologist of +that name. We have called to make some inquiries about the murder which +was committed somewhere near here last night." + +"The ruling passion, Mr. Colwyn, the ruling passion! Personally I should +be only too glad of your assistance in the case in question, but I'm +afraid there's no deep mystery to unravel--it's not worth your while. It +would be like cracking a nut with a steam hammer for you to devote your +brains to this case. All the indications point strongly to one man." + +"A young man who was staying at the _Grand_ till yesterday?" inquired +the detective. + +The chief constable nodded. + +"We're looking for a young man who's been staying at the _Grand_ for +some weeks past under the name of Ronald. He's a stranger to the +district, and nobody seems to know anything about him. Perhaps you +gentlemen can tell me something about him." + +"Very little, I'm afraid," replied Colwyn. "I've seen him at meal +times, and nodded to him, but never spoken to him till yesterday, when +he had a fainting fit at breakfast. Sir Henry Durwood and I helped him +to his bedroom, and exchanged a few remarks with him on his recovery." + +"Yes, I've been told of that illness," said Mr. Cromering, meditating. +"Did he do or say anything while you were with him that would throw any +light on the subsequent tragic events of the night, for which he is now +under suspicion?" + +Colwyn related what had happened at breakfast and afterwards. Mr. +Cromering listened attentively, and turning to Sir Henry Durwood asked +him if he had seen Ronald before the previous day. + +"I saw him yesterday for the first time at the breakfast table," replied +Sir Henry Durwood. "I arrived only the previous night. He was taken ill +at breakfast. Mr. Colwyn and I assisted him to his room and left him +there. I know nothing whatever about him." + +"What was the nature of his illness?" inquired the chief constable. + +"It had some of the symptoms of a seizure," replied Sir Henry guardedly. +"I begged him, when he recovered, not to leave his room. I even offered +to communicate with his friends, by telephone, if he would give me their +address, but he refused." + +"It is a pity he did not take your advice," responded the chief +constable. "He appears to have left the hotel shortly after his illness, +and walked along the coast to a little hamlet called Flegne, about ten +miles from here. He reached there in the evening, and put up at the +village inn, the _Golden Anchor_, for the night. He left early in the +morning, before anybody was up. Shortly afterwards the body of Mr. Roger +Glenthorpe, an elderly archæologist, who had been staying at the inn +for some time past making researches into the fossil remains common to +that part of Norfolk, was found in a pit near the house. The tracks of +boot-prints from near the inn to the mouth of the pit, and back again, +indicate that Mr. Glenthorpe was murdered in his bedroom at the inn, and +his body afterwards carried by the murderer to the pit in which it was +found." + +"In order to conceal the crime?" said Colwyn. + +"Precisely. Two men employed by Mr. Glenthorpe saw the footprints +earlier in the morning, and when it was discovered that Mr. Glenthorpe +was missing, one of them was lowered into the pit by a rope and found +the body at the bottom. The pit forms a portion of a number of so-called +hut circles, or prehistoric shelters of the early Briton, which are not +uncommon in this part of Norfolk." + +"And you have strong grounds for believing that this young man Ronald, +who was staying at the _Grand_ till yesterday, is the murderer?" + +"The very strongest. He slept in the room next to the murdered man's, +and disappeared hurriedly in the early morning from the inn some time +before the body was discovered. It is his boot-tracks which led to and +from the pit where the body was found. A considerable sum of money has +been stolen from the deceased, and we have ascertained that Ronald was +in desperate straits for money. Another point against Ronald is that Mr. +Glenthorpe was stabbed, and a knife which was used by Ronald at the +dinner table that night is missing. It is believed that the murder was +committed with this knife. But if you feel interested in the case, Mr. +Colwyn, you had better hear the report of Police Constable Queensmead." + +The chief constable touched a bell, and directed the policeman who +answered it to bring in Constable Queensmead. + +The policeman who appeared in answer to this summons was a thickset +sturdy Norfolk man, with an intelligent face and shrewd dark eyes. On +the chief constable informing him that he was to give the gentlemen the +details of the _Golden Anchor_ murder, he produced a notebook from his +tunic, and commenced the story with official precision. + +Ronald had arrived at the inn before dark on the previous evening, and +had asked for a bed for the night. A little later Mr. Glenthorpe, the +murdered man, who had been staying at the inn for some time past, had +come in for his dinner, and was so pleased to meet a gentleman in that +rough and lonely place that he had asked Ronald to dine with him. The +dinner was served in an upstairs sitting-room, and during the course of +the meal Mr. Glenthorpe talked freely of his scientific researches in +the district, and informed his guest that he had that day been to +Heathfield to draw £300 to purchase a piece of land containing some +valuable fossil remains which he intended to excavate. The two gentlemen +sat talking after dinner till between ten and eleven, and then retired +to rest in adjoining rooms, in a wing of the inn occupied by nobody +else. In the morning Ronald departed before anybody, except the servant, +was up, refusing to wait for his boots to be cleaned. The servant, who +had had the boots in her hands, had noticed that one of the boots had a +circular rubber heel on it, but not the other. Ronald gave her a pound +to pay for his bed, and the note was one of the first Treasury issue, +as were the notes which Mr. Glenthorpe had drawn from the bank at +Heathfield the day before. The men who had seen the footprints to the +pit earlier in the morning, informed Queensmead of their discovery on +learning that Mr. Glenthorpe had disappeared. Queensmead examined the +footprints, and, with the assistance of the men, recovered the body. +Queensmead telephoned a description of Ronald to the police stations +along the coast, then mounted his bicycle and caught the train at +Leyland in order to report the matter to the district headquarters at +Durrington. + +"I suppose there is no doubt that the young man who stayed at the inn is +identical with Ronald," said the detective, when the constable had +finished his story. "Do the descriptions tally in every respect?" + +"Read the particulars you have prepared for the hand-bills, +Queensmead," said the chief constable. + +The constable produced a paper from his pocket and read: "Description of +wanted man: About 28 years of age, five feet nine or ten inches high, +fair complexion rather sunburnt, blue eyes, straight nose, fair hair, +tooth-brush moustache, clean-cut features, well-shaped hands and feet, +white, even teeth. Was attired in grey Norfolk or sporting lounge +jacket, knickerbockers and stockings to match, with soft grey hat of +same material. Wore a gold signet-ring on little finger of left hand. +Distinguishing marks, a small star-shaped scar on left cheek, slightly +drags left foot in walking. Manner superior, evidently a gentleman." + +"That is conclusive enough," said Colwyn. "It tallies in every respect. +The scar is an unmistakable mark. I noticed it the first time I saw +Ronald." + +"I noticed it also," said Sir Henry Durwood. + +"It seems a clear case to me," said the chief constable. "I have signed +a warrant for Ronald's arrest, and Superintendent Galloway has notified +all the local stations along the coast to have the district searched. We +think it very possible that Ronald is in hiding somewhere in the +marshes. We have also notified the district railway stations to be on +the lookout for anybody answering his description, in case he tries to +escape by rail." + +"It seems a strange case," remarked the detective thoughtfully. "Why +should a young man of Ronald's type leave his hotel and go across to +this remote inn, and commit this brutal murder?" + +"He was very short of money. We have ascertained that he had been +requested to leave the hotel here because he could not pay his bill. He +has paid nothing since he has been here, and owed more than £30. The +proprietor told him yesterday morning, as he was going in to breakfast, +that he must leave the hotel at once if he could not pay his bill. He +went away shortly after the scene in the breakfast room which was +witnessed by you gentlemen, and left his luggage behind him. I suspect +the proprietor would not allow him to take his luggage until he had +discharged his bill." + +"It strikes me as a remarkable case, nevertheless," said Colwyn. "I +should like to look into it a little further, with your permission." + +"Certainly," replied the chief constable courteously. "Superintendent +Galloway will be in charge of the case. I suggested that he should ask +for a man to be sent down from Scotland Yard, but he does not think it +necessary. I feel sure that he will be delighted to have the assistance +of such a celebrated detective as yourself. When are you starting for +Flegne, Galloway?" + +"In half an hour," replied the superintendent. "I shall have to walk +from Leyland--five miles or more. The train does not go beyond there." + +"Then I will drive you over in my car," said the detective. + +"In that case perhaps you'll permit me to accompany you," said the chief +constable. "I should very much like to observe your methods." + +"And I too," said Sir Henry Durwood. + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +The road to Flegne skirted the settled and prosperous cliff uplands, +thence ran through the sea marshes which stretched along that part of +the Norfolk coast as far as the eye could reach until they were merged +and lost to view in the cold northern mists. + +The road, after leaving the uplands, descended in a sinuous curve +towards the sea, but the party in the motor car were stopped on their +way down by a young mounted officer, who, on learning of their +destination, told them they would have to make an inland detour for some +miles, as the military authorities had closed that part of the coast to +ordinary traffic. + +As they turned away from the coast, the chief constable informed Colwyn +that the prohibited area was full of troops guarding a little bay called +Leyland Hoop, where the water was so deep that hostile transports might +anchor close inshore, and where, according to ancient local tradition, + + + "He who would Old England win, + Must at the Leyland Hoop begin." + + +After traversing a mile or so of open country, and passing through one +or two scattered villages, they turned back to the coast again on the +other side of a high green headland which marked the end of the +prohibited area, and, crossing the bridge of a shallow muddy river, +found themselves in the area of the marshes. + +It was a region of swamps and stagnant dykes, of tussock land and wet +flats, with scarcely a stir of life in any part of it, and nothing to +take the eye except a stone cottage here and there. + +The marshes stretched from the road to the sea, nearly a mile away. Man +had almost given up the task of attempting to wrest a living from this +inhospitable region. The boat channels which threaded the ooze were +choked with weed and covered with green slime from long disuse, the +little stone quays were thick with moss, the rotting planks of a broken +fishing boat were foul with the encrustations of long years, the stone +cottages by the roadside seemed deserted. Here and there the marshes had +encroached upon the far side of the road, creeping half a mile or more +farther inland, destroying the wholesome earth like rust corroding +steel, and stretching slimy tentacles towards the farmlands on the rise. + +Humanity had retreated from the inroads of the sea only after a stubborn +fight. The ruins of an Augustinian priory, a crumbling fragment of a +Norman tower, the mouldering remnant of a castellated hall, showed how +prolonged had been the struggle with the elements of Nature before Man +had acknowledged his defeat and retreated, leaving hostages behind him. +And--significant indication of the bitterness of the fight--it was to be +noted that, while the builders of a bygone generation had built to face +the sea, the handful of their successors who still kept up the losing +fight had built their beach-stone cottages with sturdy stone backs to the +road, for the greater protection of the inmates from the fierce winter +gales which swept across the marshes from the North Sea. + +The car had travelled some miles through this desolate region when the +chief constable directed Colwyn's attention to a spire rising from the +flats a mile or so away, and said it was the church of Flegne-next-sea. +Colwyn increased his speed a little, and in a few minutes the car had +reached the outskirts of the little hamlet, which consisted of a +straggling row of beach-stone cottages, a few gaunt farm-houses on the +rise, and a cruciform church standing back from the village on a little +hill, with high turret or beacon lights which had warned the North Sea +mariners of a former generation of the dangers of that treacherous +coast. + +In times past Flegne-next-sea--pronounced "Fly" by the natives, "Fleen" +by etymologists, and "Flegney" by the rare intrusive Cockney--had +doubtless been a prosperous little port, but the encroaching sea had +long since killed its trade, scattered its inhabitants, and reduced it +to a spectre of human habitation compelled to keep the scene of its +former activities after life had departed. Half the stone cottages were +untenanted, with broken windows, flapping doors, and gardens overgrown +with rank marsh weeds. The road through the village had fallen into +disrepair, and oozed beneath the weight of the car, a few boards thrown +higgledy-piggledy across in places representing the local effort to +preserve the roadway from the invading marshes. The little canal quay--a +wooden one--was a tangle of rotting boards and loose piles, and the +stagnant green water of the shallow canal was abandoned to a few grey +geese, which honked angrily at the passing car. There was no sign of +life in the village street, and no sound except the autumn wind moaning +across the marshes and the boom of the distant sea against the +breakwater. + +"There's the inn--straight in front," said Police-Constable Queensmead, +pointing to it. + +The _Golden Anchor_ inn must have been built in the days of Sir +Cloudesley Shovel, for nothing remained of the maritime prosperity +which had originally bestowed the name upon the building. It was of +rough stone, coloured a dirty white, with two queer circular windows +high up in the wall on one side, the other side resting on a little, +round-shouldered hill. It was built facing away from the sea like the +beach-stone cottages, from which it was separated by a patch of common. +From the rear of the inn the marshes stretched in unbroken monotony to +the line of leaping white sea dashing sullenly against the breakwater +wall, and ran for miles north and south in a desolate uniformity, still +and grey as the sky above, devoid of life except for a few migrant birds +feeding in the salt creeks or winging their way seaward in strong, +silent flight. The rays of the afternoon sun, momentarily piercing the +thick clouds, fell on the white wall and round glazed windows of the +inn, giving it a sinister resemblance to a dead face. + +Colwyn brought his car to a standstill on the edge of the saturated +strip of common. + +"We shall have to walk across," he said. + +"Nobody will run off with the car," said Galloway, scrambling down from +his seat. + +"The murderer brought the body from the back of the house across this +green, and carried it up that rise in front of the inn," said +Queensmead. "You cannot see the pit from here, but it is close to that +little wood on the summit. The footprints do not show in the grass, but +they are very plain in the clay a little farther on, and lead straight +to the pit." + +"How deep is the pit?" asked Colwyn. + +"About thirty feet. It was not an easy matter to bring up the body." + +"We will examine the pit and the footprints later," said Mr. Cromering. +"Let us go inside first." + +Picking their way across the common to the front of the inn, they +encountered a little group of men conversing underneath the rusty old +anchor signboard which dangled from a stout stanchion above the front +door of the inn. Some men, wearing sea-boots and jerseys, others in +labouring garb, splashed with clay and mud, were standing about. They +ceased their conversation as the party from the motor-car appeared +around the corner, and, moving a respectful distance away, watched them +covertly. + +The front door of the inn was closed. Superintendent Galloway tapped at +it sharply, and after the lapse of a moment or two the door was opened, +and a man appeared on the threshold. Seeing the police uniforms he +stepped outside as if to make more room for the party to enter the +narrow passage from which he had emerged. Colwyn noticed that he was so +tall that he had to stoop in the old-fashioned doorway as he came out. + +Seen at close quarters, this man was a strange specimen of humanity. He +was well over six feet in height, and so cadaverous, thin and gaunt that +he might well have been mistaken for the presiding genius of the marshes +who had stricken that part of the Norfolk coast with aridity and +barrenness. But there was no lack of strength in his frame as he +advanced briskly towards his visitors. His face was not the least +remarkable part of him. It was ridiculously small and narrow for so big +a frame, with a great curved beak of a nose, and small bright eyes set +close together. Those eyes were at the present moment glancing with +bird-like swiftness from one to the other of his visitors. + +"You are the innkeeper--the landlord of this place?" asked Mr. +Cromering. + +"At your service, sir. Won't you go inside?" His voice was the best +part of him; soft and gentle, with a cultivated accent which suggested +that the speaker had known a different environment at some time or +other. + +"Show us into a private room," said Mr. Cromering. + +The innkeeper escorted the party along the passage, and took them into a +room with a low ceiling and sanded floor, smelling of tobacco, +explaining, as he placed chairs, that it was the bar parlour, but they +would be quiet and free from interruption in it, because he had closed +the inn that day in anticipation of the police visit. + +"Quite right--very proper," said the chief constable. + +"Will you and the other gentlemen take any refreshment, after your +journey?" suggested the innkeeper. "I'm afraid the resources of the inn +are small, but there is some excellent old brandy." + +He stretched out an arm towards the bell rope behind him. Colwyn noticed +that his hand was long and thin and yellow--a skeleton claw covered with +parchment. + +"Never mind the brandy just now," said Mr. Cromering, taking on himself +to refuse on behalf of his companions the proffered refreshment. "We +have much to do and it will be time enough for refreshments afterwards. +We will view the body first, and make inquiries after. Where is the +body, Benson?" + +"Upstairs, sir." + +"Take us to the room." + +The innkeeper led the way upstairs along a dark and narrow passage. When +he reached a door near the end, he opened it and stood aside for them to +enter. + +"This is the room," he said, in a low voice. It was Colwyn's keen eye +that noted the key in the door. "What is that key doing in the door, on +the outside?" he asked. "How long has it been there?" + +"The maid found it there this morning, sir, when she went up with Mr. +Glenthorpe's hot water. That made her suspect something must be wrong, +because Mr. Glenthorpe was in the habit of locking his door of a night +and placing the key under his pillow. So, after knocking and getting no +answer, she opened the door, and found the room empty." + +"The door was not locked, though the key was in the door?" + +"No, sir, and everything in the room was just as usual. Nothing had been +disturbed." + +"And was that bedroom window open when you found the room empty?" asked +Superintendent Galloway, pointing to it through the open doorway. + +"Yes, sir--just as you see it now. I gave orders that nothing was to be +touched." + +"Ronald slept in this room," said Queensmead, indicating the door of the +adjoining bedroom. + +"We will look at that later," said Galloway. + +The interior of the room they entered was surprisingly light and +cheerful and spacious, having nothing in common with those low gloomy +vaults, crammed with clumsy furniture and moth-eaten stuffed animals, +which generally pass muster as bedrooms in English country inns. Instead +of the small circular windows of the south side, there was a large +modern two-paned window in a line with the door, opening on to the other +side of the house. The bottom pane was up, and the window opened as wide +as possible. A very modern touch, unusual in a remote country inn, was a +rose coloured gas globe suspended from the ceiling, in the middle of the +room. The furniture belonged to a past period, but it was handsome and +well-kept--a Spanish mahogany wardrobe, chest of drawers and washstand +with chairs to match. Modern articles, such as a small writing-desk near +the window, some library books, a fountain pen, a reading-lamp by the +bedside, and an attaché case, suggested the personal possessions and +modern tastes of the last occupant. A comfortable carpet covered the +floor, and some faded oil-paintings adorned the walls. + +The bed--a large wooden one, but not a fourposter--stood on the +left-hand side of the room from the entrance, with the head against the +wall nearest the outside passage, and the foot partly in line with the +open window, which was about eight feet away from it. The door when +pushed back swung just clear of a small bedroom table beside the bed, on +which the reading lamp stood, with a book beside it. The other side of +the bed was close to the wall which divided the room from the next +bedroom, so that there was a large clear space on the outside, between +the bed and the door. The gas fitting, which was suspended from the +ceiling in this open space, hung rather low, the bottom of the globe +being not more than six feet from the floor. The globe was cracked, and +the incandescent burner was broken. + +The murdered man had been laid in the middle of the bed, and covered +with a sheet. Superintendent Galloway quietly drew the sheet away, +revealing the massive white head and clear-cut death mask of a man of +sixty or sixty-five; a fine powerful face, benign in expression, with a +chin and mouth of marked character and individuality. But the distorted +contour of the half-open mouth, and the almost piteous expression of the +unclosed sightless eyes, seemed to beseech the assistance of those who +now bent over him, revealing only too clearly that death had come +suddenly and unexpectedly. + +"He was a great archæologist--one of the greatest in England," said Mr. +Cromering gently, with something of a tremor in his voice, as he gazed +down at the dead man's face. "To think that such a man should have been +struck down by an assassin's blow. What a loss!" + +"Let us see how he was murdered," said the more practical Galloway, who +was standing beside his superior officer. He drew off the covering sheet +as he spoke, and dropped it lightly on the floor. + +The body thus revealed was that of a slightly built man of medium +height. It was clad in a flannel sleeping suit, spattered with mud and +clay, and oozing with water. The arms were inclining outwards from the +body, and the legs were doubled up. There were a few spots of blood on +the left breast, and immediately beneath, almost on the left side, just +visible in the stripe of the pyjama jacket, was the blow which had +caused death--a small orifice like a knife cut, just over the heart. + +"It is a very small wound to have killed so strong a man," said Mr. +Cromering. "There is hardly any blood." + +Sir Henry examined the wound closely. "The blow was struck with great +force, and penetrated the heart. The weapon used--a small, thin, steel +instrument--and internal bleeding, account for the small external flow." + +"What do you mean by a thin, steel instrument?" asked Superintendent +Galloway. "Would an ordinary table-knife answer that description?" + +"Certainly. In fact, the nature of the wound strongly suggests that it +was made by a round-headed, flat-bladed weapon, such as an ordinary +table or dinner knife. The thrust was made horizontally,--that is, +across the ribs and between them, instead of perpendicularly, which is +the usual method of stabbing. Apparently the murderer realised that his +knife was too broad for the purpose, and turned it the other way, so as +to make sure of penetrating the ribs and reaching the heart." + +"Does not that suggest a rather unusual knowledge of human anatomy on +the murderer's part?" asked Mr. Cromering. + +"I do not think so. Anybody can tell how far apart the human ribs are by +feeling them." + +"It is easy to see, Sir Henry, that the wound was made by a thin-bladed +knife, but why do you think it was also round-headed?" asked +Superintendent Galloway. "Might it not have been a sharp-pointed one?" + +"Or even a dagger?" suggested Mr. Cromering. + +"Certainly not a dagger. The ordinary dagger would have made a wider +perforation with a corresponding increase in the blood-flow. My theory of +a round-headed knife is based on the circumstance of a portion of the +deceased's pyjama jacket having been carried into the wound. A +sharp-pointed knife would have made a clean cut through the jacket." + +"I see," said Superintendent Galloway, with a sharp nod. + +"Therefore, we may assume, in the case before us,"--Sir Henry Durwood +waved a fat white hand in the direction of the corpse as though he were +delivering an anatomical lecture before a class of medical +students--"that the victim was killed with a flat, round knife with a +round edge, held sideways. Furthermore, the position of the wound +reveals that the blow was too much on the left side to pierce the centre +of the heart directly, but was a slanting blow, delivered with such +force that it has probably pierced the heart on the _right_ side, +causing instant death." + +"The weapon, then, entered the body in a lateral direction, that is, +from left to right?" asked Colwyn, who had been closely following the +specialist's remarks. + +"That is what I meant to convey," responded Sir Henry, in his most +professional manner. "The blade entered on the left side, and travelled +towards the centre of the body." + +"From the nature of the wound would you say that the knife entered +almost parallel with the ribs, though slanting slightly downwards, in +order to pierce the heart on the right side?" + +"That would be the general direction, though it is impossible to +ascertain, without a postmortem examination, the exact spot where the +heart was pierced." + +"But the wound slants in such a way as to prove that the blow was struck +from left to right?" persisted Colwyn. + +"Undoubtedly," responded Sir Henry. + + + +CHAPTER V + + +During the latter part of the conversation Superintendent Galloway +walked to the open window, and looked out. He turned round swiftly, with +a look of unusual animation on his heavy features, and exclaimed: + +"The murderer entered through the window." + +The others went over to the window. The inn on that side had been built +into a small hill of beehive shape, which had been partly levelled to +make way for the foundations. Seen from outside, the inn, with its back +to the sea and a corner of its front entering the hillside, bore a +remote resemblance to some nakedly ugly animal with its nose burrowed +into the earth. Part of the bar was actually underground, and the +windows of the rooms immediately above looked out on the hillside. The +window of Mr. Glenthorpe's room, which was above the bar parlour, was +not more than four or five feet away from the round-shouldered side of +the hill. From that point the hill fell away rapidly, and the +first-story windows at the back, where the house rose from the flat edge +of the marsh, were about fifteen feet from the ground. The space between +the inn wall and the beehive curve of the hill, which was very narrow +under Mr. Glenthorpe's window, but widened as the hill fell away, was +covered with a russet-coloured clay, which contrasted vividly with the +sombre grey and drab tints of the marshes. + +"It was an easy matter to get in this window," said Superintendent +Galloway. "And here's the proof that the murderer came in this way." He +stooped and picked up something from the floor, close to the window, +and held it out in the palm of his hand for the inspection of his +companions. It was a small piece of red clay, like the russet-coloured +clay outside the window. + +"Here is another clue," said Colwyn, pointing to a fragment of black +material adhering to a nail near the bottom of the window. + +"Ronald ripped something he was wearing while getting through the +window," said Galloway, detaching the fragment, which he and Colwyn +examined closely. + +"Have you noticed that?" said Colwyn, pointing to a pool of water which +had collected near the open window, between the edge of the carpet and +the skirting board. + +"Yes," replied Galloway. "It was raining heavily last night." + +With eyes sharpened by his discoveries, Galloway made a careful search +of the carpet, and found several more crumbs of red clay between the +window and the bed. Near the bed he detected some splashes of +candle-grease, which he detached from the carpet with his pocket-knife. +He also picked up the stump of a burnt wooden match, and the broken +unlighted rink head of another. After showing these things to his +companions he placed them carefully in an empty match-box, which he put +in his pocket. + +"Somebody has bumped against this gas globe pretty hard," said Colwyn. +"The glass is broken and the incandescent burner smashed." + +He bent down to examine the white fragments of the burner which were +scattered about the carpet, and as he did so he noticed another broken +wooden match, and two more splashes of candle-grease directly beneath +the gas-jet. He removed the candle-grease carefully, and showed it to +Galloway. + +"More candle-grease!" the latter said. "Well, that's not likely to prove +anything except that Ronald was careless with his light. I suppose the +wind caused the candle to gutter. I would willingly exchange the +candle-grease for some finger-prints. There's not a sign of +finger-prints anywhere. Ronald must have worn gloves. Now, let us have a +look at Ronald's room. I want to see if he could get out of his own +window on to the hillside. His window is higher from the ground than +this window. The hill falls away very sharply." + +The bedroom Ronald had occupied was small and narrow, and its meagre +furniture was in striking contrast with the comfortable appointments of +the room they had just left. It contained a single bed, a chest of +drawers, a washstand, and a wardrobe. The latter, a cumbrous article of +furniture, stood between the bed and the wall, against the side nearest +to Mr. Glenthorpe's room. + +Galloway strode across to the window, which was open, and looked out. +The hillside fell away so rapidly that the bottom of the window was +quite eight feet from the ground outside. + +"Not much of a drop for an athletic young fellow like Ronald," said +Galloway to Colwyn, who had joined him. + +"The window is very much smaller than the one in Mr. Glenthorpe's +bedroom," said Colwyn. + +"But large enough for a man to get through. Look here! I can get my head +and shoulders through, and where the head and shoulders go the rest of +the body will follow. Ronald got through it last night and into the next +room by the other window. There can be no doubt that that was how the +murder was committed." + +Galloway left the window, and examined the bedroom carefully. He turned +down the bed-clothes, and scrutinised the sheets and pillows. + +"I thought he might have left some blood-stains on the linen, after +carrying the body downstairs," he explained. "But he hasn't." + +"Sir Henry says the bleeding was largely internal," remarked Mr. +Cromering. "That would account for the absence of any tell-tale marks on +the bed-clothes." + +"He was too clever to wash his hands when he came back," grumbled +Galloway, turning to the washstand and examining the towels. "He's a +cool customer." + +"I notice that the candle in the candlestick is a wax one," said Colwyn. + +"And burnt more than half-way down," commented Galloway, glancing at it. + +"You attach no significance to the fact that the candle is a wax one?" +questioned the detective. + +"No, do you?" replied Galloway, with a puzzled glance. + +Colwyn did not reply to the question. He was looking attentively at the +large wardrobe by the side of the bed. + +"That's a strange place to put a wardrobe," he said. "It would be +difficult to get out of bed without barking one's shins against it." + +"It was probably put there to hide the falling wall-paper,--the place is +going to rack and ruin," said Galloway, pointing to the top of the +wardrobe, where the faded wall-paper, mildewed and wet with damp, was +hanging in festoons. "Now, Queensmead, lead the way outside. I've seen +all I want to see in this room." + +"Would you like to see the room where Ronald and Mr. Glenthorpe dined?" +suggested the constable. "It's on this floor, on the other side of Mr. +Glenthorpe's bedroom." + +"We can see that later. I want to examine outside before it gets dark." + +They left the room. The innkeeper was waiting patiently in the passage, +standing motionless at the head of the staircase, with his head +inclining forward, like a marsh heron fishing in a dyke. He hastened +towards them. + +"I noticed a reading-lamp by Mr. Glenthorpe's bedside, Mr. Benson," said +Colwyn. "Did he use that as well as the gas?" + +"He rarely used the gas, sir, though it was put into the room at his +request. He found the reading-lamp suited his sight better." + +"Did he use candles? I saw no candlestick in the room." + +"He never used candles, sir--only the reading-lamp." + +"When was the gas-globe smashed? Last night?" + +"It must have been, sir. Ann says it was quite all right yesterday." + +"I've got my own idea how that was done," said Galloway, who had been an +attentive listener to the innkeeper's replies to Colwyn's questions. +"Show the way downstairs to the back door, Mr. Benson." + +The innkeeper preceded them down the stairs and along the passage to +another one, which terminated in a latched door, which he opened. + +"How was this door fastened last night?" asked Galloway. + +"By this bolt at the top," said the innkeeper, pointing to it. "There is +no key--only this catch." + +"Is this the only back outlet from the inn?" asked Colwyn. + +"Yes, sir." + +At Galloway's suggestion they first went to the side of the inn, in +order to examine the ground beneath the windows. The fence enclosing the +yard had fallen into disrepair, and had many gaps in it. There were no +footprints visible in the red clay of the natural passage-way between +the inn wall and the hill, either beneath the window of Ronald's room or +Mr. Glenthorpe's window. + +"The absence of footprints means nothing," said Galloway. "Ronald may +have climbed from one room to the other in his stocking feet, and then +put on his boots to remove the body. Even if he wore his boots he might +have left no marks, if he walked lightly." + +"I am not so sure of that," said Colwyn. "But what do you make of this?" + +He pointed to an impression in the red earth underneath Mr. Glenthorpe's +window--a line so faint as to be barely noticeable, running outward from +the wall for about eighteen inches, with another line about the same +length running at right angles from it. Superintendent Galloway examined +these two lines closely and then shook his head as though to intimate he +could make nothing of them. + +"What do you think they are?" said Mr. Cromering, turning to Colwyn. + +"I think they may have been made by a box," was the reply. + +"You are not suggesting that the murderer threw a box out of the +window?" exclaimed Superintendent Galloway, staring at the detective. +"Look how straight the line from the wall is! A box would have fallen +crookedly." + +"I do not suggest anything of the kind. If it was a box, it is more +likely it was placed outside the window." + +"For what purpose?" + +"To help the murderer climb into the room." + +"He didn't need it," replied Galloway. "It's an easy matter to get +through this window from the ground. I can do it myself." He placed his +hands on the sill, sprang on to the window ledge, and dropped back +again. "I attach no importance to these lines. They are so faint that +they might have been made months ago. There is nothing to be seen here, +so we may as well go and look at the footprints. Show us where the marks +of the footsteps commence, Queensmead." + +The constable led the way to the other side of the house and across the +green. The grass terminated a little distance from the inn in a clay +bank bordering a wide tract of bare and sterile land, which extended +almost to the summit of the rise. Clearly defined in the clay and the +black soft earth were two sets of footprints, one going towards the +rise, and the other returning. The outgoing footsteps were deeply and +distinctly outlined from heel to toe. The right foot plainly showed the +circular mark of a rubber heel, which was missing in the other, though a +sharp indentation showed the mark of the spike to which the rubber had +been fastened. + +"The footprints lead straight to the mouth of the pit where the body was +thrown," said Queensmead. + +"What a clue!" exclaimed Superintendent Galloway, his eyes sparkling +with excitement. "You are quite certain the inn servant can swear that +these marks were made by Ronald's boots, Queensmead?" + +"There's no doubt on that point, sir," replied the constable. "She had +the boots in her hands this morning, just before Ronald put them on, and +she distinctly noticed that there was a rubber heel on the right boot, +but not on the other." + +"It seems a strange thing for a young man of Ronald's position to have +rubber heels affixed to his boots," remarked Mr. Cromering. "I was under +the impression that they were an economical device of the working +classes. But perhaps he found them useful to save his feet from +jarring." + +"We shall find them useful to hang him," responded Galloway curtly. "Let +us proceed to the pit, gentlemen. May I ask you to keep clear of the +footprints? I do not want them obliterated before I can take plaster +casts." + +They followed the footsteps up the rise. Near the summit they +disappeared in a growth of nettles, but reappeared on the other side, +skirting a number of bowl-shaped depressions clustered in groups along +the brow of the rise. These were the hut circles--the pit dwellings of +the early Britons, shallow excavations from six to eight feet deep, all +running into one another, and choked with a rank growth of weeds. +Between them and a little wood which covered the rest of the summit was +an open space, with a hole gaping nakedly in the bare earth. + +"That's the pit where the body was thrown," said Queensmead, walking to +the brink. + +The pit descended straight as a mining shaft until the sides disappeared +in the interior gloom. It was impossible to guess at its depth because +of the tangled creepers which lined its sides and obscured the view, but +Mr. Cromering, speaking from his extensive knowledge of Norfolk geology, +said it was fully thirty feet deep. He added that there was considerable +difference of opinion among antiquaries to account for its greater +depth. Some believed the pit was simply a larger specimen of the +adjoining hut circles, running into a natural underground passage which +had previously existed. But the more generally accepted theory was that +the hut circles marked the site of a prehistoric village, and the deeper +pit had been the quarry from which the Neolithic men had obtained the +flints of which they made their implements. These flints were imbedded +in the chalk a long way from the surface, and to obtain them the cave +men burrowed deeply into the clay, and then excavated horizontal +galleries into the chalk. Several of the red-deer antler picks which +they used for the purpose had been discovered when the pit was first +explored twenty-five years ago. + +"Mr. Glenthorpe was very much interested in the prehistoric and late +Stone Age remains which are to be found in abundance along the Norfolk +coast," he added. "He has enriched the national museums with a valuable +collection of prehistoric man's implements and utensils, which he +recovered in various parts of Norfolk. For some time past he had been +carrying out explorations in this district in order to add to the +collection. It is sad to think that he met his death while thus +employed, and that his murdered body was thrown in the very pit which +was, as it were, the centre of his explorations and the object of his +keenest scientific curiosity." + +"Did you ever see clearer footprints?" exclaimed the more +practical-minded Galloway. "Look how deep they are near the edge of the +pit, where the murderer braced himself to throw the body off his back +into the hole. See! there is a spot of blood on the edge." + +It was as he had said. The footprints were clear and distinct to the +brink of the pit, but fainter as they turned away, showing that the man +who had carried the body had stepped more lightly and easily after +relieving himself of his terrible burden. + +"I must take plaster casts of those prints before it rains," said +Galloway. "They are far too valuable a piece of evidence to be lost. +They form the final link in the case against Ronald." + +"You regard the case as conclusive, then?" said Colwyn. + +"Of course I do. It is now a simple matter to reconstruct the crime from +beginning to end. Ronald got through Mr. Glenthorpe's window last night +in the dark. As the catch has not been forced, he either found it +unlocked or opened it with a knife. After getting into the room he +walked towards the foot of the bed. He listened to make sure that Mr. +Glenthorpe was asleep, and then struck the match I picked up near the +foot of the bed, lit the candle he was carrying, put it on the table +beside the bed, and stabbed the sleeping man. Having secured the money, +he unlocked the door, carried the corpse out on his shoulder, closed the +door behind him but did not lock it, then took the body downstairs, let +himself out of the back door, carried it up here and cast it into the +pit. That's how the murder was committed." + +"I agree with you that the murderer entered through the window," said +Colwyn. "But why did he do so? It strikes me as important to clear that +up. If Ronald is the murderer, why did he take the trouble to enter the +room from the outside when he slept in the next room?" + +"Surely you have not forgotten that the door was locked from inside? +Benson says Mr. Glenthorpe was in the habit of locking his door and +sleeping with the key under the pillow. Ronald no doubt first tried to +enter the room by the door, but, finding it locked, climbed out of his +window, and got into the room through the other window. He dared not +break open the door for fear of disturbing the inmate or alarming the +house." + +"Then how do you account for the key being found in the outside of Mr. +Glenthorpe's door this morning?" + +"Quite easily. During the struggle or in the victim's death convulsions +the bed-clothes were disarranged, and Ronald saw the key beneath the +pillow. Or he may have searched for it, as he knew he would need it +before he could open the door and remove the body. It was easy for him +to climb through the window to commit the murder, but he couldn't remove +the body that way. After finding the key he unlocked the door, and put +the key in the outside, intending to lock the door and remove the key as +he left the room, so as to defer the discovery that Mr. Glenthorpe was +missing until as long after his own departure in the morning as +possible. He may have found it a difficult matter to stoop and lock the +door and withdraw the key while he was encumbered with the corpse, so +left it in the door till he returned from the pit. When he returned he +was so exhausted with carrying the body several hundred yards, mostly +uphill, that he forgot all about the key. That is my theory to account +for the key being in the outside of the door." + +"It's an ingenious one, at all events," commented Colwyn. "But would +such a careful deliberate murderer overlook the key when he returned?" + +"Nothing more likely," said the confident superintendent. "It's in +trifles like this that murderers give themselves away. The notorious +Deeming, who murdered several wives, and disposed of their bodies by +burying them under hearthstones and covering them with cement, would +probably never have been caught if he had not taken away with him a +canary which belonged to the last woman he murdered. It was a clue that +couldn't be missed--like the silk skein in Fair Rosamond's Bower." + +"Here's another point: why did not Ronald, having disposed of the body, +disappear at once, instead of waiting for the morning?" + +"Because if his room had been found empty in the morning, as well as +that of Mr. Glenthorpe's, the double disappearance would have aroused +instant suspicion and search. Ronald gauged the moment of his departure +very cleverly, in my opinion. On the one hand, he wanted to get away +before the discovery of Mr. Glenthorpe's empty bedroom; and, on the +other hand, he wished to stay at the inn long enough to suggest that he +had no reason for flight, but was merely compelled to make an early +departure. The trouble and risk he took to conceal the body outside +prove conclusively that he thought the pit a sufficiently safe +hiding-place to retard discovery of the crime for a considerable time, +and he probably thought that even when it was discovered that Mr. +Glenthorpe was missing his absence would not, at first, arouse +suspicions that he had met with foul play. + +"It was not as though Mr. Glenthorpe was living at home with relatives +who would have immediately raised a hue and cry. He was a lonely old man +living in an inn amongst strangers, who were not likely to be interested +in his goings and comings. That suggests another alternative theory to +account for the key in the door: Ronald may have left it in the door to +convey the impression that Mr. Glenthorpe had gone out for an early +walk. That belief would at least gain Ronald a few hours to make good +his escape from this part of the country and get away by train before +any suspicions were aroused. The fact that none of Mr. Glenthorpe's +clothes were missing was not likely to be discovered in an inn until +suspicion was aroused. Ronald laid his plans well, but how was he to +know that in his path to the pit he walked over soil as plastic and +impressionable as wax?" + +"But in spite of that you assume he knew exactly where this pit was +situated?" + +"Nothing more likely. It is well-known to archæologists. Ronald may well +have heard of it while staying at Durrington, or he may have known of +it personally through some previous visit to this part of the world. And +there is also evidence that Mr. Glenthorpe told him of the hut circles +and the pit during dinner last night." + +"Just one more doubt, Superintendent. How do you account for the cracked +gas globe and the broken incandescent mantle?" + +"Ronald probably knocked his head against it as he approached the bed," +said Galloway promptly. + +"Hardly. Ronald's height, according to the description, is five feet ten +inches. That happens to be also my height, and I can pass under the gas +globe without touching it." + +"Then it was broken when Ronald was carrying the corpse downstairs," +replied Galloway, after a moment's reflection. "He carried the corpse on +his shoulders and part of the body would be above his head." + +"Superintendent Galloway has an answer for everything," said Colwyn with +a smile, to Mr. Cromering. "He is persuasive if not always convincing." + +"The case seems clear enough to me," said the chief constable +thoughtfully. "Come, gentlemen, let us return to the inn. We have a +number of things to do, and not much time to do them in." + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +The inn, seen in the grey evening of a grey day, had a stark and +sinister aspect, an atmosphere of mystery and secretiveness, an air of +solitary aloofness in the dreary marshes, standing half shrouded in the +night mists which were sluggishly crawling across the oozing flats from +the sea. It was not a place where people could be happy--this battered +abode of a past age on the edge of the North Sea, with the bitter waters +of the marshes lapping its foundations, and the cold winds for ever +wailing round its gaunt white walls. + +The portion buried in the hillside, with only the tops of the windows +peering above, suggested the hidden holes and burrowing byways of a dead +and gone generation of smugglers who had used the inn in the heyday of +Norfolk's sea prosperity. It may have been a thought of the +possibilities of the inn as a hiding place which prompted Mr. Cromering +to exclaim, after gazing at it attentively for some seconds: + +"We had better go through this place from the bottom." + +As they approached the inn a stout short man, who was looking out from +the low and narrow doorway, retreated into the interior, and immediately +afterwards the long figure of the innkeeper emerged as though he had +been awaiting the return of the party, and had posted somebody to watch +for them. + +The innkeeper showed no surprise on receiving Mr. Cromering's +instruction to show them over the inn. Walking before them he led them +along a side passage opposite the bar, opening doors as he went, and +drawing aside for them to enter and look at the rooms thus revealed. + +It was a strange rambling old place inside, full of nooks and crannies, +and unexpected odd corners and apertures, short galleries and stone +passages winding everywhere and leading nowhere; the downstairs rooms on +different levels, with stone steps into them, and queer slits of windows +pierced high up in the thick walls. On the ground floor a central +passage divided the inn into two portions. On the one side were several +rooms, some empty and destitute of furniture, others barely furnished +and empty, and a big gloomy kitchen in which a stout countrywoman, who +shook and bobbed at the sight of the visitors, was washing greens at a +dirty deal table. Off the kitchen were two small rooms, poorly furnished +as servants' bedrooms, and the windows of these looked out on the +marshes at the back of the house. On the other side of the centre +passage was the bar, which was subterranean at the far end, with the +cellar adjoining tunnelled into the hillside. In the recesses of the +cellar the short stout man they had seen at the doorway was, by the +light of a tallow candle, affixing a spigot to one of the barrels which +stood against the earthen wall. Behind the bar was a small bar parlour, +and behind that two more rooms, the house on that side finishing in a +low and narrow gallery running parallel with the outside wall. + +The staircase upstairs opened into a stone passage, running from the +front of the inn to the back. On the left-hand side of the passage, +going from the head of the stairs to the back of the house, were four +rooms. The first was a small, comfortably furnished sitting room, where +Mr. Glenthorpe and his guest had dined the previous night. The bed +chamber of the murdered man adjoined this room. Next came the room in +which Ronald had slept, and then an empty lumber room. There were four +bedrooms on the other side, all unfurnished, except one at the far end +of the passage, the lumber-room. The innkeeper explained that the +murdered man had been the sole occupant of that wing of the house until +the previous night, when Mr. Ronald had occupied the room next to him. +At this end of the passage another and narrower passage ran at right +angles from it along the back of the house, with several rooms opening +off it on one side only. The first of these rooms was empty; the next +room contained a small iron bedstead, a chair, and a table, and the +innkeeper said that it was his bedroom. At the next door he paused, and +turning to Mr. Cromering hesitatingly remarked: + +"This is my mother's room, sir. She is an invalid." + +"We will not disturb your mother, we will merely glance into the room," +said the kindly chief constable. + +"It is not that, sir. She is----" He broke off abruptly, and knocked at +the door. + +After a few moments' pause there was the sound of somebody within +turning a key in the lock, then the door was opened by a young girl, +who, at the sight of the visitors, walked hurriedly across to a bedstead +at the far end of the room, on which something grey was moving, and +stood in front of it as though she would guard the occupant of the bed +from the intruding eyes of strangers. + +"It's all right, Peggy," said the innkeeper. "We shall not be here long. +My daughter is afraid you will disturb her grandmother," he said turning +to the gentlemen. "My mother is----" A motion of his finger towards his +forehead completed the sentence more significantly than words. + +The figure on the bed in the corner was in the shadow, but they could +make it out to be that of an old and shrivelled woman in a grey flannel +nightdress, who was sitting up in bed, swinging backward and forward, +holding some object in her arms, clasped tightly to her breast, while +her small dark eyes, deepset under furrowed brows, gazed at the visitors +with the unmeaning stare of an animal. + +But Colwyn's eyes were drawn to the girl at the bedside. She was +beautiful, of a type sufficiently rare to attract attention anywhere. +Her delicate profile and dainty grace shone in the shadow of the sordid +room like an exquisite picture. He was aware of a skin of transparent +whiteness, a wistful sensitive mouth, a pair of wonderful eyes with the +green-grey colour of the sea in their depths, and a crown of red-gold +hair. She was poorly, almost shabbily, dressed, but the crude cheap +garbing of a country dressmaker was unable to mar the graceful outlines +of her slim young figure. But it was the impassivity of the face and +detachment of attitude which chained Colwyn's attention and stimulated +his intellectual curiosity. The human face is usually an index to the +owner's character, but this girl's face was a mask which revealed +nothing. The features might have been marble for anything they +displayed, as she stood by the bedside regarding with grave inscrutable +eyes the group of men in the doorway. There was something pathetic in +the contrast between her grace and beauty and stillness and the uncouth +gestures and meaningless stare of the old woman in the bed behind her. + +The old woman, moving from side to side with the unhappy restlessness +which characterises the insane, dropped over the side of the bed the +object she had been nursing in her arms, and looked at the girl with the +dumb entreaty of an animal. The girl stooped down by the side of the +bed, picked up the fallen article, and restored it to the mad woman. It +was a doll. + +Mr. Cromering, who saw the action and the article, flushed like a man +who had seen something which should be kept secret, and turned to leave +the room. The others followed, and immediately afterwards they heard the +door closed after them, and the key turned in the lock. + +Superintendent Galloway, who had more of the inquiring turn of mind of +the police official than the chief constable, asked the innkeeper +several questions about his mother and her condition. The innkeeper said +her insanity was the outcome of an accident which had happened two years +before. She was sitting dozing by the kitchen fire when a large boiler +of water overturned, scalding her terribly, and the shock and pain had +sent her mad. She had never left the bedroom since, and had gradually +become reduced to a condition of imbecility, alternated by occasional +outbursts of violence. + +"Is she ever allowed out of the room?" asked Superintendent Galloway +quickly, as though a sudden thought had struck him. + +"Never, sir; she never tries to get out of bed except when she's +violent. She will sit there for hours, playing with a doll, but when she +has her paroxysms she runs round and round the room, crying out as you +heard her just now, and throwing the things about. Did you notice, sir, +that there was no glassware in the room? She has tried to injure herself +with glass and crockery in her violent fits." + +"How often does she have paroxysms of violent madness?" asked the chief +constable. + +"Not often, sir; usually about the turn of the moon, or when there is a +gale at sea." + +"There was a gale at sea last night," said Colwyn. "Did your mother have +an attack then?" + +"Peggy said when she came downstairs last night she thought there were +signs of an attack coming on, but when I looked in on Mother as I was +going to bed, shortly before eleven, she seemed quiet enough, so I +locked her door and went to bed." + +"Do you mean to say that you leave this poor mad woman in her bedroom +all night alone?" asked the chief constable. + +"It's the best thing to be done, sir," replied the innkeeper, with an +apologetic air. "We tried having somebody to sleep with her, but it only +made her worse, and the doctor who saw her last year said it wasn't +necessary. Peggy is with her a lot in the daytime, and often until she +goes to bed. So she's really not left alone very much, because Ann goes +into her room as soon as she gets up in the morning--about six o'clock." + +"And is your mother always secured in her room--is the door always +locked?" asked Superintendent Galloway. + +"Yes, sir: the door is always locked inside or outside, and when I go to +bed at night I take the key into my room and hang it on a nail. Ann +comes in and gets it in the morning." + +"You did that last night, as usual?" + +"Yes, sir. Mother was quiet--just as you saw her now. She is quiet most +of the time." + +"God help her, poor soul!" exclaimed the chief constable. "Where does +this passage lead to, Benson?" he asked, as if to change the +conversation, pointing to a gloomy gallery running off the passage in +which they were standing. + +"It leads to two rooms looking out over the end of the inn, sir," +replied the innkeeper. "They are the only two rooms you haven't seen." + +"Who occupies this room?" asked Superintendent Galloway, opening the +door of the first, and disclosing a small, plainly furnished bedroom. + +"My daughter, sir." + +"The next one is empty and unfurnished, like many of the others," +observed the chief constable. "This place seems too big for you, Benson. +Were all these rooms destitute of furniture when you took over the inn?" + +"Not all, sir, but the inn being too big for me I sold the furniture for +what it would fetch. It was no use to me." + +"Why don't you take a smaller place?" asked Superintendent Galloway, +abruptly. "You'll never do any good on this part of the coast--it's +played out, and there's no population." + +"I'm well aware of that, sir, but it's difficult for a man like me to +make a shift once he gets into a place. There's Mother for one thing." + +"She ought to be placed in a lunatic asylum," said the superintendent, +looking sternly at the innkeeper. + +"It's a hard thing, sir, to put your own mother away. Besides, begging +your pardon, she's hardly bad enough for a lunatic asylum." + +"Let us go downstairs, Galloway, if we have seen the whole of the inn," +said the chief constable, breaking into this colloquy. "Time is really +getting on." + +They went downstairs again to the small room they had been shown into +when they first entered the inn, Mr. Cromering after despatching the +innkeeper for refreshments for the party glanced once more at his watch, +and remarked to Colwyn that he was afraid he would have to ask him to +drive him in his car back to Durrington without delay. + +"Galloway will stay here for the inquest to-morrow," he added. "But I +must get back to Norwich to-night." + +"It is not necessary to go back to Durrington, to get to Norwich," said +Colwyn; "there's a train passes through Heathfield on the branch line, +at 5.40." He consulted his own watch as he spoke. "It's now just four +o'clock. Heathfield cannot be more than six miles away across country. I +can run you over there in twenty minutes. That would give you an hour or +so more here. I am speaking for myself as well as you," he added, with a +smile. "I should like to know a little more about this case." + +"But I shall be taking you out of your way, and delaying the return of +you and Sir Henry to Durrington." + +"I should like to return here and stay until after the inquest. Perhaps +Sir Henry would not mind returning to Durrington from Heathfield. He +will be able to catch the Durrington train at Cottenden, and get back to +his hotel in time for dinner. Would you mind, Sir Henry?" + +"Not in the least," replied Sir Henry politely. + +"Then I think I might stay a little longer," said the chief constable. +"What's the road like to Heathfield, Galloway? You know something about +this part of the country." + +"Very bad," replied the superintendent uncompromisingly, who had his own +reasons for wanting to get rid of his superior officer and the +detective. + +"It will be all right in daylight, and I'll risk it coming back," said +the detective cheerfully. + +He spoke with the resolute air of one used to making prompt decisions, +and Mr. Cromering yielded with the feeble smile of a man who was rather +glad to be released of the task of making up his own mind. The entrance +of the innkeeper with refreshments put an end to the discussion. He +thrust upon the police officials present the responsibility of breaking +the licensed hours in which liquor might be drunk in war time by serving +them with sherry, old brandy, and biscuits. + +The chief constable made himself a party to this breach of the law by +helping himself to a glass of sherry. The wine was excellent and dry, +and he poured himself out another. The result of this stimulant was +directly apparent in the firm tones with which he announced his +intention of examining those inmates of the inn who could throw any +light on the murder of the previous night. He directed Superintendent +Galloway to sit beside him and take notes of the information thus +elicited for the use of the coroner the following day. + +"I think it would be as well to begin with the story of the innkeeper," +he added. "Please pull that bell-rope, Galloway." + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +The innkeeper answered the bell in person, and was ordered by the chief +constable to take a seat and tell everything he knew about the previous +night's events, without equivocation or reserve. He took a chair at the +table, his bright bird's glance wandering from one to the other of the +faces opposite him as he smoothed with one claw-like hand the thatch of +iron-grey hair which hung down over his forehead almost to his eyes. + +"Where shall I begin?" he asked. + +"You had better start by telling us how this young man Ronald came to +your house yesterday afternoon, and then give us an account of the +subsequent events, so far as you know them," said the chief constable. + +"I was down near the breakwater yesterday evening, setting some +eel-lines in the canal, when he arrived," commenced the innkeeper. "When +I came in, Charles--that's the waiter--told me there was a young +gentleman in the bar parlour waiting to see me. I went into the parlour, +and saw the young man sitting near the door. He looked very tired and +weary, and said he wished to stay at the inn for the night." + +"How was he dressed?" asked Superintendent Galloway, looking up from his +note-book. + +"In a grey Norfolk suit, with knickerbockers, and a soft felt hat." + +"Had you ever seen him before?" + +"No, sir. He was a complete stranger to me. I could see he was a +gentleman. I told him I could not take him in, as the inn was only a +poor rough place, with no accommodation for gentlefolk at the best of +times, let alone war-time. The young gentleman said he was very tired +and would sleep anywhere, and was not particular about food. He told me +he had lost his way on the marshes, and a fisherman had directed him to +the inn." + +"Did he say where he had come from?" asked the chief constable. + +"No, sir, and I didn't think to ask him. I might have done so, but Mr. +Glenthorpe walked into the parlour just then, carrying some partridges +in his hand. He didn't see the young gentleman at first--he was sitting +in the corner behind the door--but told me to have one of the partridges +cooked for his dinner. They had just been given to him, he said, by the +farmer whose land he was going to excavate next week. As he turned to go +out he saw the young gentleman sitting in the corner, and he said, in +his hearty way: 'Good evening, sir; it is not often that we have any +society in these parts.' The young gentleman told him what he had told +me--how he had wandered away from Durrington and got lost, and had come +to the inn in the hopes of getting a bed for the night. 'Glad to see a +civilised human being in these parts,' said Mr. Glenthorpe. 'I hope +you'll give me the pleasure of your company at dinner. Benson, tell Ann +to cook another partridge.' 'I don't know whether the innkeeper will +allow me that pleasure,' replied the young gentleman. 'He says he cannot +put me up for the night.' 'Of course he'll put you up,' said Mr. +Glenthorpe. 'Not even a Norfolk innkeeper would turn you out on to the +North Sea marshes at this time of year.' That settled the question, +because I couldn't afford to offend Mr. Glenthorpe, and besides, his +providing the dinner helped me out of a difficulty. So I went out to +give orders about the dinner, leaving Mr. Glenthorpe and him sitting +together talking." + +"Did you get him to fill in a registration form?" asked Superintendent +Galloway. + +"I forgot to ask him, sir," replied the innkeeper. + +"That is gross and inexcusable carelessness on your part, Benson," said +Galloway sternly. "I shall have to report it." + +"I do not understand much about these things, sir," replied the +innkeeper apologetically. "It is so rarely that we have a visitor to the +place." + +"The authorities will hold you responsible. You are supposed to know the +law, and help to carry it out. What's the use of devising regulations +for the security of the country if they are not carried out? You +innkeepers and hotel-keepers are really very careless. Go on with your +story, Benson." + +"He and Mr. Glenthorpe had dinner together in the little upstairs +sitting room which Mr. Glenthorpe kept for his own private use. He did +his writing in it, and the flints and fossils he discovered in his +excavations were stored in the cupboards. His meals were always taken up +there, and last night he ordered the dinner to be taken up there as +usual, and the table to be laid for two. Charles waited at table, but I +was up there twice--first time with some sherry, and the second time was +about an hour afterwards, when the gentlemen had finished dinner. I took +up a bottle of some old brandy that the inn used to be famous for--it's +the same that you gentlemen have been drinking. When I knocked at the +door with the brandy it was Mr. Glenthorpe who called 'Come in!' He was +standing in front of the fire, with a fossil in his hand, and he was +telling the young man about how he came to discover it. I put the +brandy on the table and left the room. + +"That was the last time I saw him alive. Charles came down with the +dinner things about half-past nine, and said he was not wanted upstairs +any more. Charles went to bed shortly afterwards--he sleeps in one of +the two rooms off the kitchen. I went to my own bedroom before ten, +after first telling Ann, the servant, who was doing some ironing in the +kitchen, to turn off the gas at the meter if the gentlemen retired +before she finished, but not to bother if they were still sitting up. It +had been decided that the young gentleman should occupy the bedroom next +to Mr. Glenthorpe, and Ann was a bit late with her ordinary work because +it had taken her some time to get his room ready. The room had not been +occupied for some time, and she'd had to air the bed-clothes and make +the bed afresh. + +"The next morning I was a bit late getting down--there's nothing to open +the inn for in the mornings--and Ann told me as soon as I got down that +the young gentleman had left nearly an hour before. She had taken him up +an early cup of tea at seven o'clock, and he opened the door to her +knock, and took it from her. He was fully dressed, except for his boots, +which he had in his hand, and he asked her to clean them, as he wanted +to leave at once. She was walking away with the boots, when he called +her back and took them from her, saying that it didn't matter about +cleaning them, as he was in a hurry. When she gave him the boots he put +a note into her hand, and said that was to pay for his bill. + +"It was the key in the outside of Mr. Glenthorpe's room which led to us +finding out that he was not in the room. As I told you upstairs, sir, he +used to always lock his door when he went to bed and put the key under +the pillow. Ann noticed the key in the outside of the door when she +went up with his breakfast tray--he never took early morning tea but he +always breakfasted in his room. That would be about eight o'clock. She +thought it strange to see the key in the door, and as she could get no +answer to her knock she tried the door, found it unlocked and the room +empty. She came downstairs and told me. I thought at first that Mr. +Glenthorpe might have got up early to go and look at his excavations, +but I went up to his room and saw the signs of a struggle and +blood-stains on the bed-clothes, and I knew that something must have +happened to him. I went into the village and told Constable Queensmead. +He came to the inn, and made a search inside and outside and found the +footprints leading to the pit on the rise. One of Mr. Glenthorpe's men +who had been down the pit for flints was lowered by a rope, and brought +up the body." + +The innkeeper took a leather wallet from his pocket and produced from it +a Treasury £1 note. "This is the note the young gentleman left behind +with Ann to pay his bill," he explained, pushing it across the table to +the chief constable. + +"I would draw your attention, sir, to the fact that this Treasury note +is one of the first issue--printed in black on white paper," remarked +Superintendent Galloway to his superior officer. "Constable Queensmead +has ascertained that the £300 which Mr. Glenthorpe drew out of the bank +yesterday was all in £1 notes of the first issue. That money is missing +from the dead man's effects." + +The chief constable looked thoughtfully at the note through his glasses, +and then passed it to Colwyn, who examined it closely, and took a note +of the number, and held it up to the light to see the watermark. + +"Did you or the servant find any weapon in Mr. Glenthorpe's room?" asked +the chief constable. + +"No, sir." + +"You have missed a knife though, have you not?" asked Superintendent +Galloway. + +"Yes, sir." + +"What sort of a knife?" + +"A table-knife." + +"Was it one of the knives sent up to the sitting-room last night?" + +"Yes, sir. At least Charles says so. He has charge of the cutlery." + +"Then Charles had better tell us about it," interposed the chief +constable. "You say you went to bed before ten o'clock, Benson. Did you +hear anything in the night?" + +"No, sir, I fell asleep almost immediately. My room is a good distance +from Mr. Glenthorpe's room." + +"I do not think we have any more questions to ask you, Benson." + +"Pardon the curiosity of a medical man, Mr. Cromering," remarked Sir +Henry, "but would it be possible to ask the innkeeper whether he noticed +anything peculiar about Mr. Ronald's demeanour, when he arrived at the +inn, or when he saw him at dinner subsequently?" + +"You hear that question, Benson?" said the chief constable. "Did you +notice anything strange about Mr. Ronald's conduct when first he came to +the inn or at any time?" + +"I cannot say I did, sir. I thought he looked very tired when he first +came into the inn, and his eyes were heavy as though with want of +sleep." + +"He seemed quite sane and rational?" + +"Quite, sir." + +"Did you notice any symptoms of mental disturbance or irritability about +him at any time?" struck in Sir Henry Durwood. + +"No, sir. He was a little bit angry at first when I said I couldn't take +him in, but he struck me as quite cool and collected." + +Sir Henry looked a little disappointed at this reply. He asked no more +questions, but entered a note in a small note-book which he took from +his waistcoat pocket. Mr. Cromering intimated to the innkeeper that he +had finished questioning him, and would like to examine the waiter, +Charles. + +"If you wouldn't mind pulling the bell-rope behind you, sir," hinted the +innkeeper. + +In response to a pull at the old-fashioned bell-rope, the stout country +servant, who had been washing greens in the kitchen, entered the room. + +"Where is Charles, Ann?" asked the innkeeper. + +"He's in the kitchen," replied the woman nervously. + +"Then tell him he is wanted here immediately." + +"You run your inn in a queer sort of way, Benson," remarked +Superintendent Galloway, in his loud voice, as the woman went away on +her errand. "Why couldn't Charles have answered the bell himself, if he +is in the kitchen? What does he wait on, if not the bar parlour?" + +"Charles is stone deaf, sir," replied the innkeeper. + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +The man who entered the room was of sufficiently remarkable appearance +to have attracted attention anywhere. He was short, but so fat that he +looked less than his actual height, which was barely five feet. His +ponderous head, which was covered with short stiff black hair, like a +brush, seemed to merge into his body without any neck, and two black +eyes glittered like diamond points in the white expanse of his hairless +face. As he advanced towards the table these eyes roved quickly from one +to the other of the faces on the other side of the table. He was in +every way a remarkable contrast to his employer, and a painter in search +of a subject might have been tempted to take the pair as models for a +picture of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza. + +"Take that chair and answer my questions," said Mr. Cromering, +addressing the waiter in a very loud voice. "Oh, I forgot," he added, to +the innkeeper. "How do you manage to communicate with him if he is stone +deaf?" + +"Quite easily, sir. Charles understands the lip language--he reads your +lips while you speak. It is not even necessary to raise your voice, so +long as you pronounce each word distinctly." + +"Sit down, Charles--do you understand me?" said the chief constable +doubtfully. By way of helping the waiter to comprehend he pointed to the +chair the innkeeper had vacated. + +The waiter crossed the room and took the chair. Like so many fat men, +his movements were quick, agile, and noiseless, but as he came forward +it was noticeable that his right arm was deformed, and much shorter than +the other. + +The chief constable eyed the strange figure before him in some +perplexity, and the fat white-faced deaf man confronted him stolidly, +with his black twinkling eyes fixed on his face. His gaze, which was +directed to the mouth and did not reach the eyes, was so disconcerting +to Mr. Cromering that he cleared his throat with several nervous "hems" +before commencing his examination: + +"Your name is----?" + +"Charles Lynn, sir." + +The reply was delivered in a whispered voice, the not infrequent result +of prolonged deafness, complete isolation from the rest of humanity +causing the gradual loss of sound values in the afflicted person; but +the whisper, coming from such a mountain of flesh, conveyed the +impression that the speaker's voice was half-strangled in layers of fat, +and with difficulty gasped a way to the air. Mr. Cromering looked hard +at the waiter as though suspecting him of some trick, but Charles' eyes +were fixed on the mouth of his interrogator, awaiting his next question. + +"I understand that you waited on the two gentlemen in the upstairs +sitting-room last night"--Mr. Cromering still spoke in such an +unnecessarily loud voice that he grew red in the face with the +exertion--"the gentleman who was murdered, and the young man Ronald, who +came to the inn last night. Do you understand me?" + +"Yes, sir. I waited on the gentlemen, sir." + +"Very well. I want you to tell us all that took place between these +gentlemen while you were in the room. You were there all through the +dinner, I suppose?" + +"Yes, sir, but I didn't follow all of the conversation because of my +infirmity." He touched his ears as he spoke. "I gathered some remarks of +Mr. Glenthorpe's, because he told me to stand opposite him and watch his +lips for orders, but I didn't get much of what the young gentleman said, +because I was standing behind his chair most of the time so as to see +Mr. Glenthorpe's lips better." + +"Well, tell us all you did gather of the conversation, and everything +you saw." + +"I beg your pardon, sir"--the interruption came from Superintendent +Galloway--"but would it not be advisable to get from the waiter first +something of what passed between him and Ronald when Ronald came to the +inn last night? The waiter was the first to see him, Benson says." + +"Quite right. I had forgotten. Tell us, Charles, what passed when Ronald +first came to the inn in the afternoon." + +"It was between five and six o'clock, sir, when the young gentleman came +to the front door and asked for the landlord. I told him he was out, but +would be back shortly. The young gentleman said he was very tired, as he +had walked a long distance and lost his way in the marshes, and would I +show him into a private room and send him some refreshments. I took him +into the bar parlour--this room, sir--and brought him refreshments. He +seemed very tired--hardly able to lift one leg after the other." + +"Did he look ill--or strange?" + +"I didn't notice anything strange about him, sir, but he dropped into a +chair as though he was exhausted, and told me to send the landlord to +him as soon as he came in. I left him sitting there, and when Mr. Benson +returned I told him, and he went in to him. I didn't see the young +gentleman again until I waited on him and Mr. Glenthorpe at dinner in +the upstairs sitting-room." + +"Very good. Tell us what happened there." + +"I laid the table, and took up the dinner at half-past seven. Those were +Mr. Glenthorpe's orders. When I went up the first time the table was +covered with flints and fossils, which Mr. Glenthorpe was showing the +young gentleman, and I helped Mr. Glenthorpe put these back into the +cupboards, and then I laid the table. When I took up the dinner the +gentlemen sat down to it, and Mr. Glenthorpe rang for Mr. Benson, and +told him to bring up some sherry. When the sherry came up Mr. Glenthorpe +told the young gentleman that it was a special wine sent down by his +London wine merchants, and he asked Mr. Ronald what he thought of it. +Mr. Ronald said he thought it was an excellent dry wine. The gentlemen +didn't talk much during dinner, though Mr. Glenthorpe was a little upset +about the partridges. He said they had been cooked too dry. He asked the +young gentleman what he thought of them, but I don't know what he +replied, for I was not watching his lips. + +"Mr. Glenthorpe quite recovered himself by the time coffee was served, +and was talking a lot about his researches in the neighbourhood. It was +very learned talk, but it seemed to interest Mr. Ronald, for he asked a +number of questions. Mr. Glenthorpe seemed very pleased with his +interest, and told him about a valuable discovery made in a field near +what he called the hut circles. He said he had bought the field off the +farmer for £300, and was going to commence his excavations immediately. +As the farmer refused to take a cheque for the land he had been over to +the bank at Heathfield for the money, and had brought it back with him +so as to pay it over in the morning and take possession of the field. +Mr. Glenthorpe complained that the bank had made him take all the money +in Treasury notes, and he took them out of his pocket and showed them to +the young gentleman, saying how bulky they were, and pointing out that +they were all of the first issue." + +"And what did Ronald say to that?" + +If the chief constable's question covered a trap, the waiter seemed +unconscious of it. + +"I wasn't looking at him, sir, and did not hear his reply. After putting +the money back in his pocket, Mr. Glenthorpe told me to go downstairs +and tell Mr. Benson to bring up some of the old brandy. Mr. Benson came +back with me, and Mr. Glenthorpe took the bottle from him and filled the +glasses himself, telling the young gentleman that the brandy was the +best in England, a relic of the old smuggling days, but far too good for +scoundrels who had never paid the King's revenue one half-penny. Then +when Mr. Benson had left the room he began to talk about the field +again, and how anxious he was to start the excavations. That was about +all I heard, sir, for shortly afterwards Mr. Glenthorpe told me to clear +away the things, which took me several trips downstairs, because, not +having the full use of my right hand, I have to use a small tray. It was +not till this morning, when I was cleaning the cutlery, that I noticed +that one of the knives I had taken upstairs the night before was +missing. I think that is all, sir." + +The silence which followed, broken only by the rapid travelling of +Superintendent Galloway's pen across the paper, revealed how intently +the fat man's auditors had followed his whispered recital of the events +before the murder. It was Superintendent Galloway who, putting down his +fountain pen, asked the waiter to describe the knife he had missed. + +"It was a small, white-handled knife, sir--not one of the dinner knives, +but one of the smaller ones." + +"Are you sure it was one of the knives you took upstairs last night?" + +"Quite sure, sir. We are very short of good cutlery, and I picked out +this knife to put by the young gentleman's plate because it was a very +good one. It and the carving-knife are the only two knives we have in +that particular white-handled pattern." + +"Was this knife sharp?" + +"Very sharp, with a rather thin blade. I keep all my cutlery in good +order, sir." + +"You seem to have heard a lot that passed last night in spite of your +deafness," said Superintendent Galloway, in the blustering manner he had +found very useful in browbeating rural witnesses in the police courts. +"Is it customary for waiters to listen to everything that is said when +they are waiting at table?" + +"I did not hear everything, sir," rejoined the waiter, and his soft +whisper was in striking contrast to the superintendent's hectoring +tones. "I explained to the other gentleman that I heard very little the +young gentleman said, because I wasn't watching his lips. It was +principally Mr. Glenthorpe's part of the conversation I have related. I +followed almost everything he said because I was watching his lips +closely the whole of the time." + +"Why?" snapped Superintendent Galloway. + +"It was Mr. Glenthorpe's strict instructions that I was to watch his +lips closely every time I waited on him, because of my infirmity. He +disliked very much being waited on by a deaf waiter when first he came +to the inn. He said he didn't want to have to bellow out when he wanted +anything. But when he found that I could understand lip language, and +could follow what he was saying by watching his lips, he allowed me to +wait on him, but he gave me strict instructions never to take my eyes +off him when I was waiting on him, because he disliked having to repeat +an order." + +At the request of Sir Henry, Superintendent Galloway asked the waiter if +he had noticed anything peculiar in the actions of the murdered man's +guest during the dinner. The waiter replied that he had not noticed the +young gentleman particularly. So far as his observation went the young +gentleman had acted just like an ordinary young gentleman, and he had +noticed nothing strange or eccentric about him. + +Mr. Cromering decided to occupy the remaining time at his disposal by +questioning Ann. The stout servant was brought from the kitchen in a +state of trepidation, and, after curtsying awkwardly to the assembled +gentlemen, flopped heavily into a chair, covered her face with her +apron, and burst into sobs. Her story--which was extracted from her with +much difficulty--bore out the innkeeper's account of her early morning +interview with Ronald. She said the poor young gentleman had opened the +door when she knocked with his tea. He was fully dressed, with his boots +in his hand, and he said he wouldn't wait for any breakfast, though she +had offered to cook him some fresh fish the master had caught the day +before. He asked her to clean his boots, but as she was carrying them +away he called her back and said he would wear them as they were. They +were all covered with mud--a regular mask of mud. She wanted to rub the +mud off, but he said that didn't matter: he was in a hurry to get away. +While she had them in her hands she turned them up and looked at the +bottoms, intending to put them to the kitchen fire to dry them if the +soles were wet, and it was then she noticed that there was a circular +rubber heel on one which was missing on the other--only the iron peg +being left. She took particular notice of the peg, because she intended +to hammer it down in the kitchen, thinking it must be very uncomfortable +to walk on, but the young gentleman didn't give her the chance--he just +took the boots from her and walked into his room, shutting the door +behind him. + +Thus far Ann proceeded, between convulsive sobs and jelly-like tremors +of her fat frame. By dint of further questioning, it was elicited from +her that during this colloquy at the bedroom door the young gentleman +had put a pound note into her hand, and told her to give it to her +master in payment of his bill. "It won't be so much as that, sir," she +had said. "What about the change?" + +"Oh, damn the change!" the young gentleman had said, very +impatient-like, and then he had said, "Here's something for yourself," +and put five shillings into her hand. + +"Did the young gentleman seem at all excited during the time you saw +him?" asked the chief constable, anticipating the inevitable question +from Sir Henry. + +"I don't know what you mean by excited, sir. He seemed rarely impatient +to be gone, though anybody might be excited at having to walk across +them nasty marshes in the morning mist without a bite to stay the +stomach. I only hope he didn't catch a chill, the poor young man." + +Further questions on this point only brought forth another shower of +tears, and a sobbing asseveration that she hadn't taken particular +notice of the young gentleman, who was a kind, liberal-hearted +gentleman, no matter what some folk might think. It was evident that the +tip of five shillings had won her heart. + +The chief constable waited for the storm to subside before he was able +to extract the information that Ann hadn't seen the young gentleman +leave the house. He had gone when she took up Mr. Glenthorpe's breakfast +nearly an hour later, and made the discovery that the key of Mr. +Glenthorpe's room was in the outside of the door, and his room empty. +The young gentleman could easily have left the inn without being seen, +for she and Charles were in the kitchen, and nobody else was downstairs +at the time. + +It was in response to Colwyn's whispered suggestion that the chief +constable asked Ann if she had turned off the gas at the meter the +previous night. Yes, she had, she said. She heard the gentlemen leave +the sitting-room upstairs and say good-night to each other as they went +to their bedrooms, and she turned off the gas at the meter underneath +the stair five minutes afterwards, when she had finished her ironing, +and went to bed herself. That would be about half-past ten. + +Mr. Cromering, who did not understand the purport of the question, was +satisfied with the answer, and allowed the servant to retire. But +Colwyn, as he went out to the front to get the motor ready for the +journey to Heathfield, was of a different opinion. + +"Ann may have turned off the gas as she said," he thought, "but it was +turned on again during the night. Did Ann know this, and keep it back, +or was it turned on and off again without her knowledge?" + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +"Everything fits in beautifully," said Superintendent Galloway +confidently. "I never knew a clearer case. All that remains for me to do +is to lay my hands on this chap Ronald, and an intelligent jury will see +to the rest." + +The police official and the detective had dined together in the small +bar parlour on Colwyn's return from driving Mr. Cromering and Sir Henry +Durwood to Heathfield Station. The superintendent had done more than +justice to the meal, and a subsequent glass of the smugglers' brandy had +so mellowed the milk of human kindness in his composition that he felt +inclined for a little friendly conversation with his companion. + +"You are very confident," said Colwyn. + +"Of course I am confident. I have reason to be so. Everything I have +seen to-day supports my original theory about this crime." + +"And what is your theory as to the manner in which this crime was +committed? I have gathered a general idea of the line you are taking by +listening to your conversation this afternoon, but I should like you to +state your theory in precise terms. It is an interesting case, with some +peculiar points about it which a frank discussion might help to +elucidate." + +Superintendent Galloway looked suspiciously at Colwyn out of his small +hard grey eyes. His official mind scented an attempt to trap him, and +his Norfolk prudence prompted him to get what he could from the +detective but to give nothing away in return. + +"I see you're suspicious of me, Galloway," continued Colwyn with a +smile. "You've heard of city detectives and their ways, and you're +thinking to yourself that a Norfolk man is more than a match for any of +them." + +This sally was so akin to what was passing in the superintendent's mind +that a grim smile momentarily relaxed his rugged features. + +"My thoughts are my own, I suppose," he said. + +"Not when you've just given them away," replied Colwyn, in a bantering +tone. "My dear Galloway, your ingenuous countenance is a mirror to your +mind, in which he who runs may read. But you are quite wrong in +suspecting me. I have no ulterior motive. My only interest in this +crime--or in any crime--is to solve it. Anybody can have the credit, as +far as I am concerned. Newspaper notoriety is nothing to me." + +"You've managed to get a good deal of it without looking for it, then," +retorted the superintendent cannily. "It was only the other day I was +reading a long article in one of the London newspapers about you, +praising you for tracking the criminals in the Treasury Bonds case. The +police were not mentioned." + +"Fame--or notoriety--sometimes comes to those who seek it least," +replied the detective genially. "I assure you that article came unasked. +I'm a stranger to the political art of keeping sweet with the +journalists--it was a statesman, you know, who summed up gratitude as a +lively sense of favours to come. Now, in this case, let us play fair, +actuated by the one desire to see that justice is done. This case does +not strike me as quite such a simple affair as it seems to you. You +approach it with a preconceived theory to which you are determined to +adhere. Your theory is plausible and convincing--to some extent--but +that is all the more reason why you should examine and test every link +in the chain. You cannot solve difficult points by ignoring them and, to +my mind, there are some difficult and perplexing features about this +case which do not altogether fit in with your theory." + +"If my mind is an open book to you perhaps you'll tell me what my theory +is," responded Superintendent Galloway, sourly. + +"Yes; that's a fair challenge." The detective pushed back his chair, and +stood with his back against the mantelpiece, with a cigar in his mouth. +"Your theory in this case is that chance and opportunity have made the +crime and the criminal. Chance brings this young man Ronald to this +lonely Norfolk inn, and sees to it that he is allowed to remain when the +landlord wants to turn him away. Chance throws him into the society of a +man of culture and education, who is only too glad of the opportunity of +relieving the tedium of his surroundings in this rough uncultivated +place by passing a few hours in the companionship of a man of his own +rank of life. Chance contrives that this gentleman shall have in his +possession a large sum of money which he shows to Ronald, who is greatly +in need of money. Opportunity suggests the murder, provides the weapon, +and gives Ronald the next room to his intended victim in a wing of the +inn occupied by nobody else. + +"Your theory as to how the murder was actually committed strikes me as +possible enough--up to a certain point. You think that Ronald, after +waiting until everybody in the inn is likely to be asleep, steals out of +his own room to the room of his victim. He finds the door locked. +Chance, however, has thoughtfully provided him with a window opening on +to a hillside, which enables him to climb out of his own window and +into the window of the next room. He gets in, murders Mr. Glenthorpe, +secures his money, and, finding the key of his bedroom under the pillow, +carries the body of his victim downstairs, and outside, casting it into +a deep hole some distance from the house, in the hope of preventing or +retarding discovery of the crime. Through an oversight he forgets the +key in the door, which he had placed in the outside before carrying off +the body, intending when he returned to lock the door and carry the key +away with him. + +"Next morning you have the highly suspicious circumstance of the young +man's hurried departure, his refusal to have his boots cleaned, the +incident of the £1 note, and the unshakable fact that the footprints +leading to and from the pit where the body was discovered had been made +by his boots. + +"As a further contributory link in the chain of evidence against Ronald, +you intend to use the fact that he was turned out of the Grand Hotel, +Durrington, the previous day because he couldn't pay his hotel bill, +because this fact, combined with the fact that Mr. Glenthorpe showed him +the money he had drawn from the bank at Heathfield, supplies a strong +motive for the crime. In this connection you intend to try to establish +that the Treasury note which Ronald left to pay his inn bill was one of +those in Mr. Glenthorpe's possession, because it happens to be one of +the First Treasury issue, printed in black and white, and all Mr. +Glenthorpe's notes were of that issue, according to the murdered man's +own statement. That, I take it, is the police theory of this case." + +"It is," said Superintendent Galloway. "You've put it a bit more +fancifully than I should, but it comes to the same thing. But what do +you make out of the incident at the Grand Hotel, Durrington, yesterday +morning? You were there, and saw it all. Does it seem strange to you +that Ronald should have come straight to this inn and committed a murder +after making that scene at the hotel? Do you think it suggests that +Ronald has, well--impulses of violence, let us say?" Superintendent +Galloway poured himself out another glass of old brandy and sipped it +deliberately, watching the detective cautiously between the sips. + +Colwyn was silent for a moment. He was quick to comprehend the +double-barrelled motive which underlay the superintendent's question, +and he had no intention of letting the police officer pump him for his +own ends. + +"Sir Henry Durwood would be better able to answer that question than I," +he said. + +"I asked him when we were driving over here this afternoon, but he shut +up like an oyster--you know what these professional men are, with their +stiff-and-starched ideas of etiquette," grumbled the superintendent. + +A flicker of amusement showed in Colwyn's eyes. Really the +superintendent was easily drawn, for an East Anglian countryman. "After +all, it is only Sir Henry Durwood's opinion that Ronald intended +violence at the _Grand_," he said. "Sir Henry did not give him the +opportunity to carry out his intention--if he had such an intention." + +"Exactly my opinion," exclaimed Superintendent Galloway, eagerly rising +to the fly. "I have ascertained that Ronald's behaviour during the time +he was staying at the hotel was that of an ordinary sane Englishman. The +proprietor says he was quite a gentleman, with nothing eccentric or +peculiar about him, and the servants say the same. They are the best +judges, after all. And nobody noticed anything peculiar about him at the +breakfast table except yourself and Sir Henry--and what happened? +Nothing, except that he was a bit excited--and no wonder, after the +young man had just been ordered to leave the hotel. Then Sir Henry +grabbed hold of him and he fainted--or pretended to faint; it may have +been all part of his game. Sir Henry may have thought he intended to do +something or other, but no British judge would admit that as evidence +for the defence. This chap Ronald is as sane as you or me, and a deep, +cunning cold-blooded scoundrel to boot. If the defence try to put up a +plea of insanity they'll find themselves in the wrong box. There's not a +jury in the world that wouldn't hang him on the evidence against him." + +This time Colwyn could not forbear smiling at the guileless way in which +Superintendent Galloway had revealed the thoughts which had been passing +through his mind. But his amusement was momentary, and it was in a +grave, earnest tone that he replied: + +"The hotel incident is a puzzling one, but I agree with you that it +doesn't enter into the police case against Ronald. It is your duty to +deal with the facts of the case, and if you think that Ronald committed +this murder----" + +"If I think that Ronald committed this murder!" Superintendent +Galloway's interruption was both amazed and indignant. "I'm as certain +he committed the murder as if I saw him do it with my own eyes. Did you, +or anybody else, ever see a clearer case?" + +"It is because the circumstantial evidence against him is so strong that +I speak as I do," continued Colwyn, in the same earnest tones. "Innocent +men have been hanged in England before now on circumstantial evidence. +It is for that very reason that we should guard ourselves against the +tendency to accept the circumstantial evidence against him as proof of +his guilt, instead of examining all the facts with an open mind. We are +the investigators of the circumstances: it is not for us to prejudge. +That is the worst of circumstantial evidence: it tends to prejudgment, +and sometimes to the ignoring of circumstances and facts which might +tell in favour of the suspect, if they were examined with a more +impartial eye. It is for these reasons that I am always careful to +suspend judgment in cases of circumstantial evidence, and examine +carefully even the smallest trifles which might tell in favour of the +man to whom circumstantial evidence points. + +"Have you discovered anything, since you have been at the inn, which +shakes the theory that Ronald is the murderer?" + +"I have come to the conclusion that the case is much more complex and +puzzling than was at first supposed." + +"I should like to know what makes you think that," returned +Superintendent Galloway. "Up to the present I have seen nothing to shake +my conviction that Ronald is the guilty man. What have you discovered +that makes you think otherwise?" + +"I do not go as far as that--yet. But I have come across certain things +which, to my mind, need elucidation before it is possible to pronounce +definitely on Ronald's guilt or innocence. To take them consecutively, +let me repeat that I cannot reconcile Ronald's excitable conduct at the +Durrington hotel with his supposed actions at the inn. In the former +case he behaved like a man who, whether insane or merely excited, had +not the slightest fear of the consequences. At this inn he acted like a +crafty cautious scoundrel who had weighed the consequences of his acts +beforehand, and took every possible precaution to save his own skin. +You see nothing inconsistent in this----" + +"I do not," interjected the superintendent firmly. + +"Quite so. Then, the next point that perplexes me is why Ronald took the +trouble to carry the body of his victim to the pit and throw it in." + +"For the motive of concealment, and to retard discovery. But for the +footprints it would probably have given him several days--perhaps +weeks--in which to make good his escape." + +"Did he not run a bigger risk of discovery by carrying the body +downstairs in an occupied house, and across several hundred yards of +open land close to the village?" + +"Not in a remote spot like this. They keep early hours in this part of +the country. I guarantee if you walked through the village now you +wouldn't see a soul stirring." + +"Ronald was not likely to know that. Next, how did Ronald, a stranger to +the place, know the locality of this pit so accurately as to be able to +walk straight to it?" + +"Easily. He might have approached the inn from that side, and passed it +on his way. And nothing is more likely than Mr. Glenthorpe would tell +him about the pit in the course of his conversation about the +excavations. There is also the possibility that Ronald knew of the +existence of the pit from a previous visit to this part of the country." + +"My next point is that Ronald was put to sleep in what he imagined was +an upstairs bedroom. How did he discover that his bedroom, and the +bedroom of Mr. Glenthorpe's adjoining, opened on to a hillside which +enabled him to get out of one bedroom and into the other?" + +"Again, Mr. Glenthorpe probably told him--he seems to have been a +garrulous old chap, according to all accounts. Or Ronald may have +looked out of his window when he was retiring, and seen it for himself. +I always look out of a bedroom window, and particularly if it is a +strange bedroom, before getting into bed." + +"These are matters of opinion, and, though your explanations are +possible ones, I do not agree with you. We are looking at this case from +entirely different points of view. You believe that Ronald committed the +murder, and you are allowing that belief to colour everything connected +with the case. I am looking at this murder as a mystery which has not +yet been solved, and, without excluding the possibility that Ronald is +the murderer, I am not going, because of the circumstantial evidence +against him, to accept his guilt as a foregone conclusion until I have +carefully examined and tested all the facts for and against that theory. + +"The one outstanding probability is that Mr. Glenthorpe was murdered for +his money. Now, excluding for the time being the circumstantial evidence +against Ronald--though without losing sight of it--the next point that +arises is was he murdered by somebody in the inn or by somebody from +outside--say, for example, one of the villagers employed on his +excavation works. The waiter's story of the missing knife suggests the +former theory, but I do not regard that evidence as incontrovertible. +The knife might have been stolen from the kitchen by a man who had been +drinking at the bar; indeed, until we have recovered the weapon it is +not even established that this was the knife with which the murder was +committed. It might have been some other knife. We must not take the +waiter's story for granted until we have recovered the knife, and not +necessarily then. But that story, as it stands, inclines to support the +theory that the murder was committed by somebody in the inn. On the +other hand, the theory of an outside murderer lends itself to a very +plausible reconstruction of the crime. Suppose, for example, the murder +had been committed by one of Mr. Glenthorpe's workmen, actuated by the +dual motives of revenge and robbery, or by either motive. Apparently the +whole village knew of Mr. Glenthorpe's intention to draw this money +which was in his possession when he was murdered--he seems to have been +a man who talked very freely of his private affairs--and the amount, +£300, would be a fortune to an agricultural labourer or a fisherman. +Such a man would know all about the bedroom windows on that side of the +inn opening on to the hillside, and would naturally choose that means of +entry to commit the crime. And, if he were a labourer in Mr. +Glenthorpe's employ, the thought of concealing the body by casting it +into the pit would probably occur to him." + +"I do not think there is much in that theory," said Superintendent +Galloway thoughtfully. "Still, it is worth putting to the test. I'll +inquire in the morning if any of the villagers are suspicious +characters, or whether any of Glenthorpe's men had a grudge against +him." + +"Now let us leave theories and speculations and come to facts. Our +investigations of the murdered man's room this afternoon gave us several +clues, not the least important of which is that we are enabled to fix +the actual time of the murder with some degree of accuracy. It is always +useful, in a case of murder, to be able to establish the approximate +time at which it was committed. In this case, the murder was certainly +committed between the hours of 11 p.m. and 11.30 p.m., and, in all +probability, not much before half-past eleven." + +"How do you fix it so accurately as that?" asked the police officer, +looking keenly at the detective. + +"According to Ann, the gentlemen went to their rooms about half-past +ten, and she turned off the gas downstairs shortly afterwards, and went +to bed herself. When we examined the room this afternoon, we found +patches of red mud of the same colour and consistency of the soil +outside the window leading from the window to the bedside, and a +pool--a small isolated pool--of water near the open window. There were, +as you recollect, no footprints outside the window. On the other hand, +the footprints from the inn to the pit are clear and distinct. Rain +commenced to fall last night shortly before eleven, but it did not fall +heavily until eleven o'clock. From then till half-past eleven it was a +regular downpour, when it ceased, and it has not rained since. Now, the +patches of red mud in the bedroom, and the obliteration of footprints +outside the window, prove that the murderer entered the room during the +storm, but the footprints leading to the pit prove that the body was not +removed from the room until the rain had completely ceased, otherwise +they would have been obliterated also, or partly obliterated. These +facts make it clear that the murder was committed between eleven and +half-past, but the pool of water near the window enables us to fix the +time more accurately still, and say that he entered the room during the +time the rain was at its heaviest--that is, between ten minutes past and +half-past eleven." + +"I'm hanged if I see how you fix it so definitely," said the +superintendent, who had been following the other's deductions with +interest. "The pool of water may have collected at any time, once the +window was open." + +"My dear Galloway, you are working on the rule-of-thumb deduction that +the rain blew in the open window and formed the pool. As a matter of +fact, it did nothing of the kind. The wind was blowing the other way, +and _away_ from that side of the house. Furthermore, the hill on that +side of the inn acts as a natural barrier against rain and weather." + +"Then how the deuce do you account for the water in the room?" + +"Surely you have not forgotten the piece of black material we found +sticking on the nail outside the window?" + +"I have not forgotten it, but I do not see how you connect it with the +pool of water." + +"Because it is a piece of umbrella silk. The murderer was carrying an +umbrella--and an open umbrella--have you the piece of silk? If so, let +us look at it." + +The superintendent produced the square inch of silk from his waistcoat +pocket, and examined it closely: "Of course it's umbrella silk," he +exclaimed, slapping his leg. "Funny I didn't recognise it at the time." + +"Perhaps I wouldn't have recognised it myself, but for the fact that a +piece of umbrella silk formed an important clue in a recent case I was +engaged upon," replied the detective. "Experience counts for a +lot--sometimes. See, this piece of silk is hemmed on the edge--pretty +conclusive proof that the murderer was carrying the umbrella open, to +shield him from the rain, and that it caught on the nail outside the +window, tearing off the edge. He closed it as he got inside the window, +and placed it near the window-sill, and the rain dripped off it and +formed the pool of water. The size of the pool, and the fact that the +murderer carried an open umbrella to shield him, prove pretty +conclusively that he made his entrance into the room during the time the +rain was falling heaviest--which was between 11.10 p.m. and 11.30. + +"We now come to what is the most important discovery of all--the pieces +of candle-grease we found in the murdered man's bedroom. They help to +establish two curious facts, the least important of which is that +somebody tried to light the gas in Mr. Glenthorpe's room last night, +and, failing to do so, went downstairs and turned on the gas at the +meter." + +"What if they did?" grunted Superintendent Galloway, pouring out another +glass of brandy. He was secretly annoyed at having overlooked the clue +of the umbrella silk, and was human enough to be angry with the +detective for opening his eyes to the fact. "I don't see how you're +going to prove it, and, even if you did, it doesn't matter a dump one +way or the other." + +"We'll let that point go," rejoined Colwyn curtly. "Your attitude in +shutting your eyes to facts hardly encourages me to proceed, but I'll +try. Would you mind showing me those bits of candle-grease you picked up +in the bedroom?" + +Superintendent Galloway produced a metal match-box from his pocket, +emptied some pieces of candle-grease, a burnt wooden match and a broken +matchhead from it, and sat back eyeing the detective with a supercilious +smile. Colwyn, after examining them closely, brought from his own pocket +an envelope, and shook several more pieces of candle-grease on the +table. + +"Look at these pieces of candle-grease side by side," he said. "Yours +were picked up alongside the bed; I found mine underneath the gas +burner." + +Superintendent Galloway glanced at the pieces of candle-grease with the +same supercilious smile. "I see them," he said. "They are pieces of +candle-grease. What of them?" + +"Do you not see that they are different kinds of candle-grease? The +pieces you picked up alongside the bed are tallow; mine, picked up from +underneath the gas-globe, are wax." + +The Superintendent had not noticed the difference in the candle-grease, +but he thought it beneath his dignity to examine them again. "The +murderer may have had two candles," he said oracularly. "Anyway, what +does it matter? They're both candle-grease." + +Colwyn swept his fragments back into his pocket with a quick impatient +gesture. "Both candle-grease, as you say," he returned sharply. "We do +not seem to be making much progress in our investigations, so let us +discontinue them. Good-night." + + + +CHAPTER X + + +Colwyn went to bed, but not to sleep. Hour after hour he lay awake, +staring into the darkness, endeavouring to put together the facts he had +discovered during the afternoon's investigations at the inn. But they +resembled those irritating odd-shaped pieces of a puzzle which refuse to +fit into the remainder no matter which way they are turned. Try as he +would, he could not fit his clues into harmony with the police theory of +the murder. + +On the other hand, he could not, nor did he attempt, to shut his eyes to +the strong case against Ronald, for he fully realised that there was +much to be explained in the young man's actions before any alternative +theory to that held by the police could be sustained. But so far he did +not see his way to an alternative theory. He sought vainly for a +foundation on which to build his clues and discoveries; for some +overlooked trifle which would help him to read aright the true order and +significance of the jumbled assortment of events in this strange case. + +In the first place, was Ronald's explanation, about losing his way and +wandering to the inn by chance, the true one? The police accepted it +without question, but was it likely that a man who was in the habit of +taking long walks about the coast would lose his way easily? As against +that doubt, there were the statements of the innkeeper and the deaf +waiter that they had never seen Ronald before. If Ronald were not +guilty, why had he departed so hurriedly from the inn that morning? And +if he were not the murderer what was the explanation of the damning +evidence of the footprints leading to the pit in which the body of the +murdered man had been flung? If the discovery of the two kinds of +candle-grease in Mr. Glenthorpe's bedroom indicated that two persons +were in the room on the night of the murder, who were those two persons, +and what did they both go there for? + +He reflected that his only tangible reason, so far, for not accepting +the police theory was based on the belief that two people had been in +the murdered man's room, and that belief rested on the discovery of a +spot of candle-grease which in itself was merely presumptive, but not +conclusive evidence. It was necessary to establish beyond doubt the +supposition that two people had been in the room before he could presume +to draw inferences from it. And, if he succeeded in establishing that +supposition, might not Ronald have been one of the two persons, and the +actual murderer? What was the significance of the broken incandescent +burner, the turned-on gas, and the faint mark under the window? + +These questions revolved in Colwyn's head in a circle, always bringing +him back to his starting point that the solution of the case did not lie +on the surface, and that the police theory could not be made to fit in +with his own discoveries. The latter were in themselves internal +evidence that the whole truth had not yet been brought to light. + +Gradually the line of the circle grew nebulous, and Colwyn was fast +falling asleep through sheer weariness, when a slight sharp sound, like +that made by turning a key in a lock, brought him back to wide-eyed +wakefulness. He sat up in bed, listening with strained ears, feeling for +the box of matches at his bedside. He found them, and endeavoured to +strike a light. But the matches were war matches, and one after another +broke off in his hand against the side of the box. He tried holding the +next close to the head, but the head flew off. With a muttered +malediction on British manufacturers, Colwyn struck several more in +rapid succession before he succeeded in lighting the candle at his +bedside. He got quietly out of bed, and, leaving the candle on the +table, opened his door noiselessly and looked out into the passage. + +He had been put to sleep in a small bedroom in the deserted upstairs +wing where the murder had been committed. His room was opposite the +lumber room, which was three doors away from the room in which the body +of the dead man lay. When the question of accommodation for +Superintendent Galloway and himself had been discussed, the former had +chosen to have a bed made up in the bar parlour downstairs as more +comfortable and snug than any of the bedrooms upstairs, but Colwyn had +consented to sleep in the deserted wing. The innkeeper, who had lighted +him upstairs, had apologised for the humble room and scanty furniture, +but Colwyn had laughingly accepted the shortcomings of the room as a +point of no importance, and had stood at his door for some moments +watching a queer effect in shadows caused by the innkeeper's candle +throwing gigantic wavering outlines of his gaunt retreating figure on +the bare stone wall as he went down the side passage to his own bedroom. + +Colwyn, looking out into the passage, could hear or see nothing to +account for the sound that had startled him into wakefulness. The candle +by his bedside gave a feeble glimmer which did not reach to the door, +and the passage was as dark and silent as the interior of a vault. The +stillness and blackness seemed to float into the bedroom like a cloud. +But he was certain he had not been mistaken. A door had been unlocked +somewhere in the darkness, and it had been unlocked by human hands. Who +had come to that deserted wing of the inn in the small hours, and on +what business? He decided to explore the passage and find out. + +He left the door of his room partly open while he donned a few articles +of clothing, and pulled a pair of slippers on his feet. He glanced at +his watch, and noted with surprise that it wanted but a few minutes to +three o'clock. He extinguished his candle and, taking his electric +torch, crept silently into the passage. + +He recalled the arrangements of the rooms as he had observed them the +previous afternoon. There were three more bedrooms adjoining his, all +empty. On the other side of the passage was the lumber room opposite, +next came the room in which Ronald slept, then the dead man's room, and +finally the sitting-room he had occupied. The door of the sitting-room +opened not very far from the head of the stairs. + +Colwyn first examined the bedrooms on his side of the passage, stepping +as noiselessly as a cat, opening and shutting each door without a sound, +and scrutinising the interiors by the light of his torch. They were +empty and deserted, as he had seen them the previous afternoon. On +reaching the end of the passage he glanced over the head of the +staircase, but there was no light glimmering in the square well of +darkness and no sound in the lower part of the house to suggest that +anybody was stirring downstairs. He turned away, and made his way back +along the passage, trying the doors on the other side with equal +precaution as he went. The first three doors--the sitting-room, the +murdered man's bedroom, and Ronald's bedroom--were locked, as he had +seen them locked the previous afternoon by Superintendent Galloway, who +had carried the keys away with him until after the inquest on the body. + +The lumber room at the other end of the passage had not been locked, and +the door stood ajar. Colwyn entered it, and by the glancing light of the +torch looked over the heavy furniture, mouldering linen, and stiffly +upended bedpoles and curtain rods which nearly filled the room. The +clock of a bygone generation stood on the mantel-piece, and the black +winding hole in its white face seemed to leer at him like an evil eye as +the light of the torch fell on it. But nobody had been in the room. The +dust which encrusted the furniture and the floor had not been disturbed +for months. + +Colwyn returned, puzzled, to his own room. Could he have been mistaken? +Was it possible that the sound he had heard had been caused by the door +of the lumber room swinging to? No! the sound had been too clear and +distinct to admit the possibility of mistake, and it had been made by +the grating of a key in a lock, not by a swinging door. He stood in the +darkness by his open door, listening intently. Several minutes passed in +profound silence, and then there came a scraping, spluttering sound. +Somebody not far away had struck a match. Looking cautiously out into +the passage, he saw, to his utter amazement, a gleam of light appear +beneath the door in which the dead man lay. The next moment the gleam +moved up the line of the door sideways, cutting into the darkness +outside like a knife. The gleam became broader until the whole door was +revealed. Somebody inside was opening it. Even as he looked a hand stole +forth from the aperture through which the light streamed, and rested on +the jamb outside. + +Colwyn was a man of strong nerves, but that sudden manifestation of +light and a human hand from a sealed death chamber momentarily +unbalanced his common sense, and caused it to swing like a pendulum +towards the supernatural. He would not have been surprised if the light +and the hand had been followed by the apparition of the murdered man on +the threshold, demanding vengeance on his murderer. The feeling passed +immediately, and with the return of reason the detective stepped back +into his room, closed his door quietly, and watched through a knife's +edge slit for the visitor to the death chamber to appear. + +The door of the dead man's room opened gently, and the face of the +innkeeper's daughter peered forth into the darkness, her impassive face, +behind which everything was hid, showing like a beautiful waxen mask +against the light of the candle she held in her hand. Her clear gaze +rested on Colwyn's door, and it seemed to him for a moment as though +their glances met through the slit, then her eyes swept along the +passage from one end to the other. As if satisfied by the scrutiny that +she had nothing to fear, she stepped forth from the death chamber, +closed and locked the door behind her, withdrew the key, walked swiftly +along the passage to the head of the stairs, and descended them. + +Colwyn opened his door and followed her. He paused outside to pick up +the boots which he had placed there to be cleaned, and carrying them in +his hand, ran quickly to the head of the stairs. Looking over the +landing, he saw the girl reach the bottom of the stairs and turn down +the passage towards the back door, still carrying the lighted candle in +her hand. + +When Colwyn reached the bottom, the girl and the light had disappeared. +But a swift gust of wind in the passage revealed to him that she had +gone out by the back door, and closed it after her. He followed along +the passage till he felt the latch of the back door in his hand. The +door yielded to the lifting of the latch, and he found himself in the +open air. + +It was a grey northern night, with a bitter wind driving the sea mist in +billows over the marshes, and a waning half moon shining fitfully +through the dingy clouds which scudded across a lead-coloured sky. By +the light of the moon he saw the figure of the girl, already some +distance from the house, swiftly making her way along the reedy canal +path which threaded the oozing marshes. + +Colwyn was not a stranger to marshlands. He had waded knee-deep from dawn +to dusk through Irish bogs after wild geese; he had followed the +migratory seafowl of Finland, Russia and Serbia into their Scottish +breeding haunts, and he had once tried to keep pace with the sweep of +the Bore over the Solway Marshes, but he had never undertaken a task so +difficult as following this girl across a Norfolk marshland. The path +she trod so unhesitatingly was narrow, and slippery, with the canal on +one side and the marshes on the other. In keeping clear of the canal +Colwyn frequently found himself slipping into the marshes. His feet and +legs speedily became wet and caked with ooze, and once he nearly lost +one of his boots, which he had pulled on hurriedly outside the inn, and +left unlaced. + +But the girl walked straight on with a swift and even gait, treading the +narrow path across the morass as securely as though she had been on the +high road. Colwyn soon realised that the path they were following was +taking them straight across the marshes to the sea. The surging of the +waves against the breakwater sounded increasingly loud on his ears, and +after a while he saw the breakwater itself rise momentarily out of the +darkness like a yellow wall, only to disappear again. But presently it +was visible once more, looming out in increasing clearness, with a +ghostly glimmering of the grey waters of the North Sea heaving +turbulently outside. + +As they neared the breakwater the path became drier and firmer, and the +light of the moon, falling through a ragged rift in the scurrying +clouds, showed a line of sand banks and strips of tussock-land emerging +from the marshes as the marshes approached the sea. + +The girl kept on with the same resolute pace, until she reached a spot +where the canal found its outlet to the sea. There she turned aside and +skirted the breakwater wall for a little distance, as if searching for +something. The next moment she was scaling the breakwater wall. Colwyn +was too far away to intercept her, or reach her if she slipped. He +stopped and watched her climb to the top of the wall, and stand there, +like a creature of the sea, with the spray leaping hungrily at her +slight figure. He saw her take something from the bosom of her dress and +cast it into the wild waste of seething waters in front of her. Having +done this she turned to descend the breakwater. Colwyn had barely time +to leave the path, and take refuge in the shadow of the wall, before she +reached the path again and set out to retrace her steps across the +lonely marshes. + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +Colwyn waited on the marshes until the coming of the dawn revealed the +breakwater and the sea crashing against it. A brief scrutiny of the +white waste of waters, raging endlessly against the barrier, convinced +him of the futility of attempting to discover what the innkeeper's +daughter had thrown from the breakwater wall an hour before. The sea +would retain her secret. + +The sea mist hung heavily over the marshes as Colwyn cautiously picked +his way back along the slippery canal path. Sooner than he expected, the +inn appeared from the grey mist like a sheeted ghost. Colwyn stood for a +few moments regarding the place attentively. There was something weird +and sinister about this lonely inn on the edge of the marshes. Strange +things must have happened there in the past, but the lawless secrets of +a bygone generation of smugglers had been safely kept by the old inn. +The cold morning light imparted the semblance of a leer to the circular +windows high up in the white wall, as though they defied the world to +discover the secret of the death of Roger Glenthorpe. + +There was no sign of life about the inn as Colwyn approached it. The +back door yielded to his pull on the latch, and he gained his room +unobserved; apparently all the inmates were still wrapped in slumber. +Colwyn spent half an hour or so in making some sort of a toilet. He had +brought a suit-case with him in the car, so he changed his wet clothes, +shaved himself in cold water, washed, and brushed his hair. He looked +at his watch, and found that it was after six o'clock. He wondered if +the girl Peggy was sleeping after her night's adventure. + +A swishing noise, somewhere in the lower regions, broke the profound +stillness of the house. Somebody was washing the floor, somewhere. +Colwyn opened his door and went downstairs. Ann, the stout servant, was +washing the passage. She was on her hands and knees, with her back +towards the staircase, swabbing vigorously, and did not see the +detective descending the stairs. + +"Good morning, Ann," said Colwyn, pleasantly. + +She turned her head quickly, with a start, and Colwyn could have sworn +that the quick glance she gave him was one of fear. But she merely said, +"Good morning, sir," and went on with her work, while the detective +stood looking at her. She finished the passage in a few minutes and got +awkwardly to her feet, wiping her red hands on her coarse apron. + +"You and I are the only early risers in the house, it seems, Ann," said +Colwyn, still regarding her attentively. + +"If you please, sir, Charles is up, and gone out to the canal to see if +there are any fish for breakfast on the master's night lines." + +"Fresh fish for breakfast! Well, that's a very good thing," replied the +detective, reflecting it was just as well that he had got in before +Charles went out. "What time does Mr. Benson come down?" + +"About half-past seven, sir, as a general rule, but sometimes he has his +breakfast in bed." + +"That's not a bad idea at times, Ann. But I see you are impatient to get +on with your work. Would you mind if I went into the kitchen and talked +to you while you are preparing breakfast?" + +Again there was a gleam of fear in the woman's eyes as she looked +quickly at the detective, but her voice was self-possessed as she +replied: + +"Very well, sir," and turned down the passage which led to the kitchen. + +"What time was it when you turned off the gas the night before last?" +asked Colwyn, when the kitchen was reached. "You told us yesterday that +it was about half-past ten, but you did not seem very sure of the exact +time. Can you not fix it accurately? Try and think." + +The look the woman gave Colwyn this time was undoubtedly one of relief. + +"Well, sir," she said, "I usually turn off the gas at ten o'clock, but, +to tell you the truth, I was a little bit late that night." + +"A little bit late, eh? That means you forgot all about it." + +"I did forget about it, and that's the truth. The master told me not to +turn off the meter until the gentlemen in the parlour upstairs had gone +to bed. Charles told me when he came down from the upstairs parlour with +the last of the dinner things that the gentlemen were still sitting in +front of the fire talking, but some time after Charles had come down and +gone to bed I heard them moving about upstairs, as though they were +going to their rooms." + +"What time was that?" asked the detective. + +"Just half-past ten. I happened to glance at the kitchen clock at the +time. Charles, who had been told that he wouldn't be wanted upstairs +again, had gone to bed quite half an hour before, but I didn't go until +I had folded some clothes which I had airing in front of the kitchen +fire. When I did get to bed, and was just falling off to sleep, I +suddenly remembered that I had forgotten to turn off the gas at the +meter. I got out of bed again, lit my candle, and went up the passage to +the meter, which is just under the foot of the stairs, turned off the +gas, and went back to bed." + +"Did you notice the time then?" + +"The kitchen clock was just chiming eleven as I got back to my bed." + +"You are sure it was not twelve?" + +"Quite sure, sir." + +"Did you hear any sound upstairs?" + +"No, sir. It was as quiet as the dead." + +"Was it raining at that time?" + +"It started to rain heavens hard just as I got back to bed, but before +that the wind was moaning round the house, as it do moan in these parts, +and I knew we was in for a storm. I was glad enough to get back to my +warm bed." + +"You might have seen something, if you had been a little later. The +staircase is the only way the body could have been brought down from +_there_." The detective pointed to the room above where the dead man +lay. + +The woman trembled violently. + +"It's God's mercy I didn't see something," she said, and her voice fell +to a husky whisper. "I should 'a' died wi' fright if I had seen _it_ +being brought downstairs. All day long I've been thanking God I didn't +see anything." + +"Do nobody else but you and Charles sleep downstairs?" + +"Nobody, sir. I sleep in a small room off the kitchen, but Charles +sleeps in one of the rooms in the passage which leads off the kitchen, +the first room, not far from my own. But that'd been no help to me if +I'd seen anything. I might have screamed the house down before Charles +would have heard me, he being stone deaf." + +"Quite true, Ann. And now is that all you have to tell me about the +gas?" + +The woman seemed to have some difficulty in replying, but finally she +stammered out in an embarrassed voice, plucking at her apron the while: + +"Yes, sir." + +"Look at me, Ann, and tell me the truth. Come now, it will be better for +everybody." + +The countrywoman looked at the detective with whitening face, and there +was something in his penetrating gaze that kept her frightened eyes +fixed on his. + +"Please, sir----" + +"Yes, Ann, go on," prompted the detective encouragingly. + +But the woman didn't go on; there crept into her face instead an +obstinate look, her mouth closed tightly, and her hands ceased +twitching. + +"I've told you everything, sir," she said quietly. + +"You've not told me you found the meter turned on when you got up next +morning," replied the detective sternly. + +The woman's fat face turned haggard with anxiety, and then she began to +cry softly with her apron to her eyes. + +"Why did you not tell us this, Ann?" + +"If you please, sir, I thought that the master mightn't like it if he +knew. He's very particular about having the gas turned off at night, and +he might have thought I had forgotten it." + +Colwyn gave her another searching look. + +"Even if that were true, Ann, you have no right to keep back anything +that may tend to shield the guilty, or injure the innocent." + +"I didn't think it mattered, sir." + +"You still say that you heard nothing after you went to bed?" + +"No, sir. I fell asleep as soon as I got into bed." + +"So you said before, but you did not tell us the whole truth yesterday, +you know, and I do not know whether to believe you now." + +"Hush, sir, there's somebody coming down the passage." + +Colwyn strolled into the passage and encountered Superintendent Galloway +coming towards the kitchen. He stared at the detective and exclaimed: + +"Hello, you're up early." + +"Yes; I found it difficult to sleep, so I came downstairs." + +"I hope you've not been making love to Ann," said Galloway, who had his +own sense of humour. "I'm looking for this infernal waiter, Charles. He +is never about when he's wanted. Charles! Charles!" + +Superintendent Galloway's shouts brought Ann hurrying from the kitchen, +and she explained to him, as she had explained to Colwyn, that Charles +had gone on to the marshes to look for fish. + +"Send him to my room as soon as he comes in; I've other fish for him to +fry," grumbled the superintendent. "A queer household this," he said to +Colwyn, as they walked along the passage. "Ah, here is Charles, fish and +all." + +The fat waiter was hurrying in with a string of fish in his hand, and he +came towards them in response to Superintendent Galloway's commanding +gesture. The superintendent told him to go out and intercept Constable +Queensmead before he went out with his search party, and bring him to +the inn. Charles nodded an indication that he understood the +instruction, and turned away to execute it. + +"I want Queensmead to get a dozen of the village blockheads together for +a jury," he said to Colwyn. "The coroner sent me word before we left +Durrington yesterday that he'd be over this morning, but he did not say +what time, and I forgot to ask him. He's the man to kick up a devil of a +shindy if he came and found we were not ready for him." + +Queensmead speedily appeared in response to the summons, listened +quietly to Superintendent Galloway's laconic command to catch a jury and +catch them quick, and went back to the village to secure twelve good men +and true. + +Colwyn and Galloway meanwhile breakfasted together in the bar parlour, +on some of the fish which Charles had brought in. As nothing followed +the fish Superintendent Galloway, who was an excellent trencherman, rang +the bell and ordered the waiter to bring some eggs and bacon. The waiter +hesitated a moment, and then said that he believed they were out of +bacon. There were some eggs, if they would do. + +"Bring me a couple, boiled, as quick as you like," said the +superintendent. "This is a queer kind of inn," he grumbled to Colwyn. +"They don't give you enough to eat." + +"I think they're a little short themselves," replied Colwyn. + +"By Jove, I believe you're right!" said the superintendent, staring hard +at the edibles on the table before him. "There's not much here--a piece +of butter no bigger than a walnut, a spoonful of jam, and tea as weak +as water. Come to think of it, they gave us nothing but some of +Glenthorpe's left over game for dinner last night. You're right, they +are _hard up_." + +Superintendent Galloway looked at Colwyn with as much animation on his +heavy features as though he had lighted on some new and important +discovery. Colwyn, who had finished his breakfast and was not +particularly interested in the conversation, strolled out with the +intention of smoking a cigar outside the front door. In the passage he +encountered Ann, bearing a tray with two cups and saucers, a pot of tea +and some bread and butter which she proceeded to carry upstairs. Colwyn +wondered for whom the breakfast was intended. There were three people +upstairs--the father, his daughter, and the poor mad woman, and the +breakfast was laid for two. The appearance of the innkeeper descending +the stairs, answered the question. Colwyn accosted him as he came down. + +"You're a late riser, Benson." + +"Yes, sir, it's a bit difficult to handle Mother in the morning: the +only way to keep her quiet is for me to stay with her until Peggy is +ready to go to her and give her her breakfast. Mother is quiet enough +with Peggy and me, but nobody else can do anything with her, and +sometimes nobody can do anything with her except my daughter. She spends +a lot of time with her, sir." + +The innkeeper looked more like a bird than ever as he proffered this +explanation, standing at the foot of the stairs dressed as he had been +the previous night, with his bright bird's eyes peering from beneath his +shock of iron-grey hair at the man in front of him. Colwyn noticed that +his hair had been recently wet, and plastered straight down so that it +hung like a ridge over his forehead--just as it had been the previous +night. Colwyn wondered why the man wore his hair like that. Did he +always affect that eccentric style of hairdressing, or had he adopted it +to alter his personal appearance--to disguise himself, or to conceal +something? + +"It's no life for a young girl," said the detective, in answer to the +innkeeper's last remark. + +"I know that, sir. But what am I to do? I cannot afford to keep a nurse. +Peggy never complains. She's used to it. But if you'll excuse me, sir. I +must go and get the room ready for the inquest." + +"What room is it going to be held in?" + +"Superintendent Galloway told me to put a table and some chairs into the +last empty room off the passage leading into the kitchen. It's the +biggest room in the house, and there are plenty of chairs in the lumber +room upstairs." + +"It should do excellently for the purpose, I should think," said Colwyn. + +A few moments later he saw the innkeeper and the waiter carrying chairs +from the lumber room downstairs into the empty room, where Ann dusted +them. Then they carried in a small table from another room. +Superintendent Galloway, with inky fingers and a red face, and a sheaf +of foolscap papers in his hand, came bustling out of the bar parlour to +superintend the arrangements. When the chairs had been placed to his +liking he ordered the innkeeper to bring him a glass of ale. While he +was drinking it Constable Queensmead entered the front door with a file +of shambling, rough-looking villagers trailing behind him, and announced +to his superior officer that the men were intended to form a jury. +Superintendent Galloway seemed quite satisfied with their appearance, +and remarked to Colwyn that he didn't care how soon the coroner +arrived--now he had the jury and witnesses ready for him. + +"How many witnesses do you propose to call?" said Colwyn. + +"Five: Queensmead, Benson, the waiter, and the two men who found the +footprints leading to the pit and who recovered the body and brought it +here. That's enough for a committal. The coroner will no doubt bring a +doctor from Heathfield to certify the cause of death. I've got all the +statements ready. I took Benson's and the waiter's yesterday. The +waiter's evidence is the principal thing, of course. Do you remember +suggesting to me last night the possibility of this murder having been +committed by one of Mr. Glenthorpe's workmen with a grudge against him? +Well, it's a very strange thing, but Queensmead was telling me this +morning that one of Mr. Glenthorpe's workmen had a grudge against him. +He's a chap named Hyson, the local ne'er-do-well, who was almost +starving when Mr. Glenthorpe came to the district. Glenthorpe was warned +against employing him, but the fellow got round him with a piteous tale, +and he put him on. He proved to be just as ungrateful as the average +British workman, and caused the old gentleman a lot of trouble. He seems +to have been a bit of a sea lawyer, and tried to disaffect the other +workmen by talking to them about socialism, and the rights of labour, +and that sort of rubbish. When I heard this I had the chap brought to +the inn and cross-questioned him a bit, but I am certain that he had +nothing to do with the murder. He's a weak, spineless sort of chap, full +of argument and fond of beer--that's his character in the village--and +the last man in the world to commit a murder like this. I flatter +myself," added Superintendent Galloway in a tone of mingled +self-complacency and pride, "that I know a murderer when I see one." + +"Have you made any inquiries about umbrellas?" asked Colwyn. + +"Yes. Apparently Ronald did not bring an umbrella with him, though it's +cost me some trouble to establish that fact. It is astonishing how +unobservant people are about such things as umbrellas, sticks, and +handbags. Most people remember faces and clothes with some accuracy, but +cannot recall whether a person carried an umbrella or walking-stick. +Charles is not sure whether Ronald carried an umbrella, Benson thinks he +did not, and Ann is sure he didn't. The balance of evidence being on the +negative side, I assume that Ronald did not bring an umbrella to the +inn, because it was more likely to have been noticed if he had. I next +inquired about the umbrellas in the house. At first I was told there +were only two--a cumbrous, Robinson Crusoe sort of affair, kept in the +kitchen and used by the servant, and a smaller one, belonging to +Benson's daughter. I have examined both. The covering of the girl's +umbrella is complete. Ann's is rent in several places, but the covering +is blue, whereas the piece of umbrella covering we found adhering to Mr. +Glenthorpe's window is black. While I was questioning Ann she suddenly +remembered that there was another umbrella in that lumber-room upstairs. +We went upstairs to look for it, but we couldn't find it, though Ann +says she saw it there a day or two before the murder. I think we may +assume that Ronald took it." + +"But Ronald was a stranger to the place. How would he know the umbrella +was in the lumber-room?" said Colwyn, who had followed Galloway's +narrative with close attention. + +"The door of the lumber-room stands ajar. Ronald probably looked in from +curiosity, and saw the umbrella." + +The easy assurance with which Superintendent Galloway dismissed or got +over difficulties which interfered with his own theory did not commend +itself to Colwyn, but he did not pursue the point further. + +"Is the umbrella still missing?" he asked. + +"Yes. It seems that even a murderer cannot be trusted to return an +umbrella." Superintendent Galloway laughed shortly at his grim joke and +walked away to supervise the preparations for the inquest. + +The coroner presently arrived from Heathfield in a small runabout +motor-car which he drove himself, with a tall man sitting beside him, +and a short pursy young man in the back seat nursing a portable +typewriter and an attaché case on his knees. Toiling in the rear, some +distance behind the car, was a figure on a bicycle, which subsequently +turned out to be the reporter of the Heathfield local paper, who had +come over with instructions from one of the London agencies to send a +twenty line report of the inquest for the London press. In peace times +"specials" would probably have been despatched from the metropolis to +"do a display story," and interview some of the persons concerned, but +the war had discounted by seventy-five per cent the value of murders as +newspaper "copy." + +The coroner, a short, stout, commonplace little man, jumped out of the +car as soon as it stopped, and bustled into the inn with an air of fussy +official importance, leaving his companions to follow. + +"Good day, Galloway," he exclaimed, as that officer came forward to +greet him. "I hope you've got everything ready." + +"Everything's ready, Mr. Edgehill. Do you intend to commence before +lunch?" + +"Of course I do. Are you aware that it is war-time? How many witnesses +have you?" + +"Five, sir. Their statements have all been taken." + +"Then I shall go straight through--it seems a simple case--merely a +matter of form, from what I have heard of it. I have another inquest at +Downside at four o'clock. Where's the body? Upstairs? Doctor"--this to +the tall thin man who had sat beside him in the run-about--"will you go +upstairs with Queensmead and make your examination? Where's the jury? +Pendy"--this to the young man with the typewriter and attaché case--"get +everything ready and swear in the jury. Galloway will show you the room. +What's that? Oh, that's quite all right"--this in reply to some murmured +apology on the part of Superintendent Galloway for the mental incapacity +of the jury--"we ought to be glad to get juries at all--in war-time." + +Colwyn had feared that the result of the inquest was a foregone +conclusion the moment he saw the coroner alighting from his motor-car +outside the inn. Ten minutes later, when the little man had commenced +his investigations, he realised that the proceedings were merely a +formal compliance with the law, and in no sense of the word an inquiry. + +Mr. Edgehill, the coroner, was one of those people who seized upon the +war as a pretext for the exercise of their natural proclivity to +interfere in other people's affairs. He took the opportunity that every +inquest gave him to lecture the British public on their duties and +responsibilities in war-time. The body on which he was sitting formed +his text, the jury was his congregation, and the newspaper reporters the +vehicles by which his admonitions were conveyed to the nation. Mr. +Edgehill saw a shirker in every suicide, national improvidence in a +corpse with empty pockets, and had even been able to discover a +declining war _morale_ in death by misadventure. He thanked God for air +raids and food queues because they brought the war home to civilians, +and he was never tired of asserting that he lived on half the voluntary +rations scale, did harder work, felt ten years younger, and a hundred +times more virtuous, in consequence. + +If he did not actually insert the last clause his look implied a +superior virtue to his fellow creatures, and was meekly accepted as +such. He never held an inquest without introducing some remarks upon +uninterned aliens, the military age, Ireland and conscription, soldiers' +wives and drinking, the prevalence of bigamy, and other popular war-time +topics. In short, Mr. Edgehill, like many other people, had used the war +to emerge from a chrysalis existence as a local bore into a butterfly +career as a public nuisance. In that capacity he was still good "copy" +in some of the London newspapers, and was even occasionally referred to +in leading articles as a fine example of the sturdy country spirit which +Londoners would do well to emulate. + +Before commencing his inquiry into the death of Mr. Glenthorpe, the +coroner indignantly expressed his surprise that a small hamlet like +Flegne could produce so many able-bodied men to serve on a jury in +war-time. But after ascertaining that all the members of the jury were +over military age, with the exception of one man who was afflicted with +heart disease, he suffered the inquest to proceed. + +The evidence of the innkeeper and the waiter was a repetition of the +story they had told to the chief constable on the preceding day. +Constable Queensmead, in his composed way, gave an account of his +preliminary investigations into the crime, and the finding of the body. + +The only additional evidence brought forward was given by two of the men +who had been in the late Mr. Glenthorpe's employ. These men, Herward and +Duney, had found the track of the footprints in the clay near the pit on +going to work the previous morning. After the discovery that Mr. +Glenthorpe was missing from the inn, Herward had been let down into the +pit by a rope, and had brought up the body. Both these men told their +story with a wealth of unlettered detail, and Duney, who was one of the +aboriginals of the district, added his personal opinion that t'oud +ma'aster mun 'a' been very dead afore the chap got him in the pit, else +he would 'a' dinged one of the chap's eyes in, t'oud ma'aster not bein' +a man to be taken anywhere against his will. However, the chap that +carried him must 'a' been powerful strong, because Herward told him his +own arms were begunnin' ter ache good tidily just a-howdin' him up to +the rope when they wor being a-hawled out the pit. + +The coroner, in his summing up, dwelt upon the strong circumstantial +evidence against Ronald, and the folly of the deceased in withdrawing a +large sum of money from the bank for the purpose of carrying out +scientific research in war-time. "Had he invested that money in war +bonds he would have probably been alive to-day," said Mr. Edgehill +gravely. The jury had no hesitation in returning a verdict of wilful +murder against James Ronald. + +The coroner, the doctor, the clerk carrying the typewriter and the +attaché case, and Superintendent Galloway departed in the runabout +motor-car shortly afterwards. Before evening a mortuary van, with two +men, appeared from Heathfield and removed the body of the murdered man. + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +If the inmates of the inn felt any surprise at Colwyn's remaining after +the inquest, they did not betray it. That evening Ann nervously +intercepted him to ask if he would have a partridge for his dinner, and +Colwyn, remembering the shortness of the inn larder, replied that a +partridge would do very well. Later on Charles served it in the bar +parlour, and waited with his black eyes fixed on Colwyn's lips, +sometimes anticipating his orders before they were uttered. He brought a +bottle of claret from the inn cellar, assuring Colwyn in his soft +whisper that he would find the wine excellent, and Colwyn, after +sampling it, found no reason for disagreeing with the waiter's judgment. + +At the conclusion of the meal Colwyn sent for the innkeeper, and asked +him a number of questions about the district and its inhabitants. The +innkeeper intimated that Flegne was a poor place at the best of times, +but the war had made it worse, and the poorer folk--the villagers who +lived in the beach-stone cottages--were sometimes hard-pressed to keep +body and soul together. They did what they could, eking out their scanty +earnings by eel-fishing on the marshes, and occasionally snaring a few +wild fowl. Mr. Glenthorpe's researches in the district had been a +godsend because of the employment he had given, which had brought a +little ready money into the place. + +It was obvious to Colwyn's alert intelligence that the innkeeper did not +care to talk about his dead guest. + +There was no visible reluctance--indeed, it would have been hard to +trace the sign of any particular emotion on his queer, bird-like +face--but his replies were slow in coming when questioned about Mr. +Glenthorpe, and he made several attempts to turn the conversation in +another direction. When he had finished a glass of wine Colwyn offered +him, he got up from the table with the remark that it was time for him +to return to the bar. + +"I will go with you," said Colwyn. "It will help to pass away an hour." + +There were about a dozen men in the bar--agricultural labourers and +fishermen--clustered in groups of twos and threes in front of the +counter, or sitting on stools by the wall, drinking ale by the light of +a smoky oil lamp which hung from the rafters. The fat deaf waiter was in +the earthy recess behind the counter, drawing ale into stone mugs. + +A loud voice which had been holding forth ceased suddenly as Colwyn +entered. The inmates of the bar regarded him questioningly, and some +resentfully, as though they considered his presence an intrusion. But +Colwyn was accustomed to making himself at home in all sorts of company. +He walked across the bar, called for some whisky, and, while it was +being served, addressed a friendly remark to the nearest group to him. +One of the men, a white-bearded, keen-eyed Norfolk man, answered his +question civilly enough. He had asked about wild fowl shooting in the +neighbourhood, and the old man had been a water bailiff on the Broads in +his younger days. The question of sport will draw most men together. One +after another of the villagers joined in the conversation, and were soon +as much at home with Colwyn as though they had known him from boyhood. +Some of them were going eel-fishing that night, and Colwyn violated the +provisions of the "no treating" order to give them a glass of whisky to +keep out the cold of the marshes. The rest of the tap room he regaled +with ale. + +From these Norfolk fishermen Colwyn learnt many of the secrets of the +wild and many cunning methods of capturing its creatures, but the real +object of his visit to the bar--to discover whether any of the +frequenters of the _Golden Anchor_ had ever seen Ronald in the district +before the evening of the murder--remained unsatisfied. He was a +stranger to "theer" parts, the men said, in response to questions on the +subject. + +But "theer" parts were limited to a mile or so of the marshland in which +they spent their narrow, lonely lives. Their conversation revealed that +they seldom went outside that narrow domain. Durrington, which was +little more than ten miles away, was only a name to them. Many of them +had not been as far as Leyland for months. They spent their days +catching eels in the marsh canals, or in setting lobster and crab traps +outside the breakwater. The agricultural labourers tilled the same patch +of ground year after year. They had no recreations except an occasional +night at the inn; their existence was a lifelong struggle with Nature +for a bare subsistence. Most of them had been born in the beach-stone +cottages where their fathers had been born before them, and most of them +would die, as their fathers had died, in the little damp bedrooms where +they had first seen the light, passing away, as their fathers had passed +away, listening to the sound of the North Sea restlessly beating against +the breakwater. That sound was never out of their ears while they lived, +and it was the dirge to which they died. Such was their life, but they +knew no other, and wished no other. + +Colwyn was early astir the following morning, and after breakfast went +out. His purpose was to try to discover something which would throw +light on Ronald's appearance at Flegne. With that object he scoured the +country for some miles in the direction of Heathfield, for he deemed the +possibility of Ronald having come by that route worth inquiring into. +But his time was wasted; none of his inquiries brought to light anything +to suggest that Ronald had ever been in the district before. + +When he returned to the village the day was more than half spent. As he +entered the inn, he encountered Charles, who stopped when he saw him. + +"There are two men in the bar asking to see you, sir," he said, in his +soft whisper. "Duney and Backlos are their names. They say they saw you +in the bar last night, and they would like to speak to you privately, if +you have no objection." + +"Show them into the bar parlour," the detective said. "And, Charles, you +might ask Ann to let me have a little lunch when they are gone." + +Colwyn proceeded to the bar parlour. A moment or two afterwards the +waiter ushered in two men and withdrew, closing the door after him. + +In response to Colwyn's request, his two visitors seated themselves +awkwardly, but they seemed to have considerable difficulty in stating +the object of their visit. Duney, one of the men who had helped to +recover Mr. Glenthorpe's body from the pit, was a short, thickset, +hairy-faced man, with round surprised eyes, which he kept intently fixed +upon the detective's face, as though seeking inspiration for speech from +that source. The other man, Backlos, was a tall, hawk-featured man with +a sweeping black moustache, who needed only gaudy habiliments to make +him the ideal pirate king of the comic opera stage. It was he who spoke +first. + +"If you please, ma'aster, we uns come to you thinkin' as you might gi' +us a bit o' advice." + +"About somefin' we seed last night," explained Mr. Duney, finding his +own voice at the sound of his companion's. + +"I thowt 'ow 'twas agreed 'tween us I wor to tell the gentleman, bor?" +growled the pirate king, turning a pair of dusky eyes on his companion. +"Yow allus have a way o' overdoin' things, you know, Dick." + +"Right, bor, right," replied Mr. Duney. "Yow oughter know I only wanted +to help yow out, Billy." + +"I dawn't want onny helpin' out," replied the pirate. "It's loike this +'ere, ma'aster," he continued, turning again to Colwyn. "Arter Dick and +I left the _Anchor_ las' night, we thowt we'd be walkin' a spell. We wor +a talkin' o' th' murder at th' time, and wonderin' what we wor to do fur +another job o' work, things bein' moighty bad heerabouts, when, as we +neared top o' th' rise, we heered the rummiest kind o' noise a man ever +heerd, comin' from that theer wood by th' pits. Dick says to me, in a +skeered kind of voice, 'That's fair a rum un,' says he. There wornt much +mune at th' time, but we could see things clar enough, and thow we +looked around us we couldn't see a livin' thing a movin' either nigh th' +woods nor on th' ma'shes. While we looked we seed a big harnsee rise out +o' th' woods and go a flappin' away across th' ma'shes. Then all of a +suddint we saw somefin' come a-wamblin' outer the shadder o' the wood, +and run along by th' edge of ut. We couldn't make out a' furst what it +moight be, thow for sure we got a rare fright. For my part, I thowt it +might a' been ole Black Shuck, thow th' night didn't seem windy enough +for un." + +"Stop a bit," said Colwyn. "What do you mean by Black Shuck? Oh, I +remember. It's a Norfolk tradition or ghost story, isn't it? Black Shuck +is supposed to be a big black dog, with one eye in the middle of the +head, who runs without sound and howls louder than the wind. Whoever +meets him is sure to die before the year is out." + +"That's him," said Mr. Backlos, affirming, with a grave nod of his head, +his own profound belief in the canine apparition in question. "My +grandfeyther seen un once not a hundred yards from the very spot were we +wor standin' last night, and, sure enough, he died afore three months +wor out. Dick and I couldn't tell what it wor we see creepin' out o' th' +shadder o' th' wood, an' to tell yow th' trewth, ma'aster, we didn't +care to look agen. I asked Dick if he didn't think it wor Black Shuck. +'Naw daywt,' says Dick, 'if it ain't somefin' worse.' 'What do'st a' +mean, bor?' says I. 'Well,' says Dick slowly like, 'it might be the +sperrit from th' pit, for 'twas in no mortal man to holler out like that +cry we just heered.' Wornt those yower words, bor?" + +Mr. Duney, thus appealed to, nodded portentously, as though to indicate +that his words were well justified. + +"Never mind the spirit from the pit," said Colwyn. "Go on with your +story." + +"Well, ma'aster, just as we wor walkin' away from th' wood as fast as +ever we could, th' mune come out from behind th' shadder of a cloud, and +threw a light right ower th' wood. We just happened to give a glance +round ahind us at th' time, to see if we wor bein' follered, and, by its +light, we saw a man a creepin' back into th' wood." + +"A man? Are you sure it was a man?" + +"There's no manner o' doubt about that, ma'aster. We both saw it once, +and we didn't wait to look again. We run as hard as we could pelt to +Dick's cottage by the ma'shes, and got inside and stood listenin' to +heer if we were bein' follered. Dick says to me, says 'e, 'S'posen it +wor the chap who murdered owd Mr. Glenthorpe at the _Anchor_?' I thowt +as much meself, but a' tried to laugh it off, and says to Dick, 'What +for should it be him? He's far enough away by this time, for we s'arched +the place round fur miles, and we took in that theer wood where we just +see un.' 'We never s'arched th' wood,' says Dick, 'leastways, not +proper, an' it's a rare hidin' place for un.' 'So it be, to be sure,' +says I. 'If he sees that there light we'll be browt out from heer dead +men,' says Dick. 'So we will, for sartin,' says I. 'Let's put out th' +light, so th' bloody-minded murderer won't ha' narthin' to go by if he +ain't seen it yet.' So we put out th' light and stayed theer till th' +mornin', when we went out to work, and then when I seed Dick later we +thowt we'd come and tell you all about it, seein' as yower a gentleman, +and in consiquence a man of larnin', and might p'rhaps tell us what we'd +better do." + +"You have certainly done the proper thing in disclosing what you have +seen," said the detective, after a thoughtful pause. "But why have you +come to me in the matter? It seems to me that the proper course to +pursue would be to lay your information before Constable Queensmead." + +The two men exchanged a glance of conscious embarrassment. Then Mr. +Backlos, with the air of a man who had made up his mind to take the bull +by the horns, blurted out: + +"It's like this, ma'aster. We be in a bit o' a fix about that. Yow see, +last night we were out arter conies, and thow I can swar we were out in +th' open and not lookin' for conies on annybody's land, cos Dick an' I +have already bin fined ten bob for snarin' conies on Farmer Cranley's +land, an' if we went to Queensmead he moight think we'd been a snarin' +there again. So Dick says to me, says he, 'Why not see the chap wot came +into th' _Anchor_ bar last night? Annybody can see wi' half an eye that +he's a real swell, for didn't he stand treat all round--an' wot he says +we'll go by, and 'e won't treat us dirty, whatever he says, though, mind +ye, bor, there's narthin' to gi' away. So let's go to thissun, an' tell +un all about it.'" + +"I also tol' yow, Billy, that if thar be a reward out for this chap wot +killed Mr. Glenthorpe, thissun 'ud tell us how to get it without sharin' +wi' Queensmead, who does narthin' but take th' bread owt o' ower mouths, +he bein' so sharp about th' conies. For if this chap in th' woods is the +one wot killed owd Mr. Glenthorpe, we have a right to th' money for +cotchin' un. Didn't I say that, Billy?" + +"Yow did, bor, yow did; them wor yower vaery words," acquiesced Mr. +Backlos. + +"I think you had better leave the matter in my hands," said Colwyn, with +difficulty repressing a smile at this exceedingly Norfolk explanation. +"And now, you had better have a drink, for I am sure you must be dry +after all that talk." + +The men, after drinking Colwyn's health in two mugs of ale, departed +with placid countenances, and Colwyn was left to meditate over the news +they had imparted. The result of his meditations was that he presently +went forth in search of Police Constable Queensmead. + +The constable lived in the village street--in a beach-stone cottage which +was in slightly better repair than its neighbours, and much better kept. +There were white curtains in the windows, and in the garden a few late +stocks and hardy climbing roses were making a brave effort to bloom in +depressing surroundings. It was Queensmead who answered the door to the +detective's knock, and he led the way inside to his little office when +he saw who his visitor was. + +"I do not think these chaps saw anything except what their own fears +created," he said, after Colwyn had told him as much of the two men's +story as he saw fit to impart. "I searched the wood thoroughly the day +after the murder. Ronald was not there then." + +"He may have come back since." + +Queensmead's dark eyes lingered thoughtfully on the detective's face, as +though seeking to gather the meaning underlying his words. + +"Why should he do such a foolish thing, sir?" he asked. + +"It is not always easy to account for a man's actions." + +"It is hard to account for a man wanted by the police running his head +into a noose." + +"Ronald may not know he is wanted by the police." + +"Why, of course he must know. If he doesn't----" Queensmead broke off +suddenly and looked at the detective queerly, as if suddenly realising +all that the remark implied. "You must have some strange ideas about +this case," he added slowly. + +"I have, but we won't go into them now," said the detective, with a +slight smile. He appreciated the fact that the other was, to use an +American colloquialism, "quick on the uptake." "Your immediate duty is +clear." + +"You mean I should search the wood again?" said Queensmead, with the +same quick comprehension as before. "Very well. Will you come with me?" + +Colwyn nodded, and Queensmead, without more ado, took a revolver and a +pair of handcuffs from a cupboard, slipped them into his pockets, and +announced that he was ready. He opened the door for his visitor to +precede him, and they set forth. + +The hut circles on the rise looked more desolate than ever in the waning +afternoon light. The excavations commenced by Mr. Glenthorpe had been +abandoned, and a spade left sticking in the upturned earth had rusted in +the damp air. The track of the footprints to the pit in which the body +had been flung still showed distinctly in the clay, and the splash of +blood gleamed dully on the edge of the hole. On the other side of the +pit the trees of the wood stood in stunted outline against a lowering +black sky. + +The two men entered the wood silently. The trees were of great age, the +trunks thick and gnarled, with low twisted boughs, running and +interlacing in every direction. So thickly were they intertwined that it +was twilight in the sombre depths of the wood, although the fierce winds +from the North Sea had already stripped the upper branches of leaves. +The ground was covered with a rank and rotting undergrowth, from which +tiny spirals of vapour, like gnomes' fires, floated upwards. The silence +was absolute; even the birds of the coast seemed to shun the place, +which looked as if it had been untrodden since the days when the beast +men of the Stone Age prowled through its dim recesses to the hut circles +on the rise. + +Colwyn and Queensmead searched the wood and the matted undergrowth as +they progressed, closely scrutinising the ferny hollows, looking up into +the trees, examining the thickets and clumps of shrubs. They had reached +the centre of the wood, and were picking their way through a rank growth +of nettles which covered the decayed bracken, when Colwyn experienced a +mental perception as tangible as a cold hand placed upon the brow of a +sleeper. He had the swift feeling that there was somebody else besides +themselves in the solitude of the wood--somebody who was watching them. +He looked around him intently, and his eyes fell upon a screen of +interlaced branches which grew on the other side of the dip they were +traversing. Without any conscious effort on his own part, his eyes +travelled to the thickest part of the obstruction, and encountered +another pair of eyes gazing at him steadily from the depths of the leafy +screen. That gaze held his own for a moment, and then vanished. He +looked again, but the screen was now unbroken, and not the rustle of a +leaf betrayed the person who was concealed within. + +Colwyn touched Queensmead's arm. + +"There is somebody hiding in those bushes ahead of us," he whispered. + +Queensmead's eyes ran swiftly along the clump of bushes ahead, and he +raised his revolver. + +"Come out, or I'll fire!" he cried. + +His sharp command shattered the heavy silence like the crack of a +firearm. The next moment the figure of a man broke from the twisted +branches and walked down the slope towards them. It was Ronald. + +"Put up your hands, Ronald," commanded Queensmead sternly, poising the +revolver at the advancing man. "Put them up, or I'll fire." + +"Fire if you like." + +The words fell from Ronald's lips wearily, but he did not put up his +hands. His clothes were torn and stained, his face gaunt and lined, and +in his tired eyes was the look of a man who had lived in the solitudes +with no other companion but despair. Queensmead stepped forward and with +a swift gesture snapped the handcuffs on his wrist. + +"I arrest you for the murder of Roger Glenthorpe," he said. + +"I could have got away from you if I had wanted," said the young man +wearily. "But what was the use? I'm glad it is over." + +"I warn you, Ronald, that any statement you now make may be used against +you on your trial," broke in Queensmead harshly. + +"My good fellow, I know all about that." The sudden note of +imperiousness in his manner reminded Colwyn of the way in which he had +snubbed Sir Henry Durwood in his bedroom at the Durrington hotel three +mornings before. But it was in his previous indifferent tone that the +young man added: "Have either of you a spirit flask?" + +Police Constable Queensmead eyed his captive with the critical eye of an +officer of justice upon whom devolved the responsibility of bringing his +man fit and well to trial. Ronald's face had gone haggard and white, and +he lurched a little in his walk. Then he stood still, and regarded the +two men weakly. + +"I'm about done up," he admitted. + +"We'd better take him to the inn and get him some brandy," said +Queensmead. "Take his other arm, will you?" + +They returned slowly with Ronald between them. He did not ask where they +were taking him, but stumbled along on their supporting arms like a man +in a dream, with his eyes fixed on the ground. When clear of the wood, +Queensmead led his prisoner past the pit where Mr. Glenthorpe's body had +been cast, but Ronald did not even glance at the yawning hole alongside +of him. It was when they were descending the slope towards the inn that +Colwyn noticed a change in his indifferent demeanour. He raised his +head and surveyed the inn with sombre eyes, and then his glance +travelled swiftly to his pinioned hands. For a moment his frame +stiffened slightly, as though he were about to resist being taken +farther. But if that were his intention the mood passed. The next moment +he was walking along with his previous indifference. + +When they reached the inn Queensmead asked Colwyn in a whisper to keep +an eye on the prisoner while he went inside and got the brandy. As soon +as he had gone Colwyn turned to Ronald and earnestly said: + +"You may not know me, apart from our chance meeting at Durrington, but I +am anxious to help you, if you are innocent." + +"I have heard of you. You are Colwyn, the private detective." + +"That makes it easier then, for you will know that I have no object in +this case except to bring the truth to light. If you have anything to +say that will help me to do that I beg of you to do so. You may safely +trust me." + +"I know that, Mr. Colwyn, but I have nothing to say." Ronald spoke +wearily--almost indifferently. + +"Nothing?" Astonishment and disappointment were mingled in the +detective's voice. + +"Nothing." + +Before anything more could be said Queensmead reappeared from the inn +with some brandy in a glass. Ronald raised it to his lips with his +manacled hands, then turned away in response to an imperative gesture +from Queensmead. Colwyn stood where he was for a moment, watching them, +then turned to enter the inn. As he did so, his eyes fell upon the white +face of Peggy, framed in the gathering gloom of the passage, staring +with frightened eyes at the retreating forms of the village constable +and his prisoner. She slipped out of the door and took a few hurried +steps in their direction. But when she reached the strip of green which +bordered the side of the inn she stopped with a despairing gesture, as +though realising the futility of her effort, and turned to retrace her +steps. Colwyn advanced rapidly towards her. + +"I want to speak to you," he said curtly. + +She stood still, but there was a prescient flash in her eyes as she +looked at him. + +"You were in the dead man's room last night," he said. "What were you +doing there?" + +"I do not know that it is any business of yours," she replied, in a low +tone. + +"I do not think you had better adopt that attitude," he said quietly. +"You know you had no right to go into that room. I do not wish to +threaten you, but you had better tell me the truth." + +She stood silent for a moment, as though weighing his words. Then she +said: + +"I will tell you why I went there, not because I am afraid of anything +you can do, but because I am not afraid of the truth. I went there +because of a promise I made to Mr. Glenthorpe. He was very kind and good +to me--when he was alive. Only two days before he met his death he asked +me, if anything happened to him at any time, to go to his bedroom and +remove a packet I would find in a little secret drawer in his writing +table, and destroy it without opening it. He showed me where the packet +was, and how to open the drawer. After he was dead I thought of my +promise, and tried several times to slip into the room and get the +packet, but there was always somebody about. So I went in last night, +after everybody was in bed, because I thought the police might find the +packet in searching his desk, and I should have been very unhappy if I +had not been able to keep my promise." + +"How did you get into the room? The door was locked, and Superintendent +Galloway had the key." + +"He left it on the mantelpiece downstairs. I saw it there earlier in the +evening, and when he was out of the room I slipped in and took it, and +put the key of my own room in its place. I replaced it next morning." + +"What did you do with the packet you removed?" + +"I took it across the marshes and threw it into the sea," she replied, +looking steadily into his face. + +"Why did you go to that trouble? Why did you not burn it?" + +"I had no fire, and I dared not keep it till the morning. Besides, there +were rings and things in the packet--his dead wife's jewellery. He told +me so." + +He looked at her keenly. She had told him the truth about her visit to +the breakwater, but how much of the rest of her story was true? + +"So that is your explanation?" he said. + +"Yes." + +"I am sorry to say that I find it difficult to believe. If you are +deceiving me you are very foolish." + +"I have told you the truth, Mr. Colwyn," she said, and, turning away, +returned to the inn. + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +Ronald's strange silence after his arrest decided Colwyn to relinquish +his investigations and return to Durrington. His tacit admissions, +coupled with the damaging evidence against him, enforced conviction in +the young man's guilt in spite of the detective's previous belief to the +contrary. In assisting Queensmead in his search Colwyn had cherished the +hope that Ronald, if captured, would declare his innocence and gladly +respond to his overture of help. But, instead of doing so, Ronald had +taken up an attitude which was suspicious in the highest degree, and one +which caused the detective to falter in his belief that the Glenthorpe +murder case was a much deeper mystery than the police imagined. Ronald's +attitude, by its accordance with the facts previously known or believed +about the case, belittled the detective's own discoveries, and caused +him to come to the conclusion that it was hardly worth while to go +farther into it. + +Nevertheless, it was in a perplexed and puzzled state of mind that he +returned to Durrington, and his perplexity was not lessened by a piece +of information given to him at luncheon by Sir Henry. The specialist +started up from his seat as soon as he saw the detective, and made his +way across to his table. + +"My dear fellow," he burst out, "I have the most amazing piece of news. +Who do you think this chap Ronald turns out to be? None other than James +Ronald Penreath, only son of Sir James Penreath--Penreath of +Twelvetrees--one of the oldest families in England, dating back before +the Conquest! Not very much money, but very good blood--none better in +England, in fact. The family seat is in Berkshire, and the family take +their name from a village near Reading, where a battle was fought in 800 +odd between the Danes and Saxons under Ethelwulf. You won't get a much +older ancestry than _that_. Sir James married the daughter of Sir +William Shirley, the member for Carbury, Cheshire--her family was not so +good as his, but an honourable county family, nevertheless. This young +man is their only child. A nice disgrace he's brought on the family +name, the foolish fellow!" + +"Who told you this?" asked Colwyn. + +"Superintendent Galloway told me last night. The description of the +young man was published in the London press in order to assist his +capture, and it appears it was seen by the young lady to whom he is +affianced, Miss Constance Willoughby, who is at present in London, +engaged in war work. I have never met Miss Willoughby, but her aunt, +Mrs. Hugh Brewer, with whom she is living at Lancaster Gate, is +well-known to me. She is an immensely wealthy woman, who devotes her +life to public works, and moves in the most exclusive philanthropic +circles. The young lady was terribly distressed at the similarity of +details in the description of the wanted man and that of her betrothed, +particularly the scar on the cheek. Although she could not believe they +referred to Mr. Penreath, she deemed it advisable to communicate with +the Penreath family solicitor, Mr. Oakham, of Oakham and Pendules. + +"Mr. Oakham called up Superintendent Galloway on the trunk line +yesterday, to make inquiries, and shortly afterwards the news came +through of Ronald's arrest. Superintendent Galloway was rather perturbed +at learning that the arrested man resembled the description of the heir +of one of the oldest baronetcies in England, and sought me to ask my +advice. As he rather vulgarly put it, he was scared at having flushed +such high game, and he thought, in view of my professional connection +with some of the highest families in the land, that I might be able to +give him information which would save him from the possibility of making +a mistake--if such a possibility existed." + +"Superintendent Galloway did not seem much worried by any such fears the +last time I saw him," said Colwyn. "His one idea then was to catch +Ronald and hang him as speedily as possible." + +"The case wears another aspect now," replied Sir Henry gravely, +oblivious of the irony in the detective's tones. "To arrest a nobody +named Ronald is one thing, but to arrest the son of Penreath of +Twelvetrees is quite a different matter. The police--quite rightly, in +my opinion--wish to guard against the slightest possibility of mistake." + +"There is no certainty that Ronald is the son of Sir James Penreath," +said Colwyn thoughtfully. "Printed descriptions of people are very +misleading." + +"Exactly my contention," replied Sir Henry eagerly. "I told Galloway +that the best way to settle the point was to let the young lady see the +prisoner. The police are acting on the suggestion. Mr. Oakham is coming +down with Miss Willoughby and her aunt from London by the afternoon +train. They will go straight to Heathfield, where they will see Ronald +before his removal to Norwich gaol. Superintendent Galloway is driving +over from here in a taxicab to meet them at the station and escort them +to the lock-up, and I am going with him. It is a frightful ordeal for +two highly-strung ladies to have to undergo, and my professional skill +may be needed to help them through with it. I shall suggest that they +return here with me afterwards, and stay for the night at the hotel, +instead of returning to London immediately. The night's rest will serve +to recuperate their systems after the worry and excitement." + +"No doubt," said Colwyn, who began to see how Sir Henry Durwood had +built up such a flourishing practice as a ladies' specialist. + +Sir Henry, having imparted his information, promised to acquaint him +with the result of the afternoon's interview, and bustled out of the +breakfast room in response to the imperious signalling of his wife's +eye. + +It was after dinner that evening, in the lounge, that Sir Henry again +approached Colwyn, smoking a cigar, which represented the amount of a +medical man's fee in certain London suburbs. But as Sir Henry counted +his fees in guineas, and not in half-crowns, he could afford to be +luxurious in his smoking. He took a seat beside the detective and, +turning upon him his professionally portentous "all is over" face, +remarked: + +"There is no mistake. Ronald is Sir James Penreath's son." + +"Miss Willoughby identified him, then?" + +"It was a case of mutual identification. Mr. Penreath, to give him his +proper name, was brought under escort into the room where we were +seated. He started back at the sight of Miss Willoughby--I suppose he +had no idea whom he was going to see--and said, 'Why, Constance!' The +poor girl looked up at him and exclaimed, 'Oh, James, how could you?' +and burst into a flood of tears. It was a very painful scene." + +"I have no doubt it was--for all concerned," was Colwyn's dry comment. +"Why did Miss Willoughby greet her betrothed husband in that way, as +though she were convinced of his guilt? What does she know about the +case?" + +"Superintendent Galloway prepared her mind for the worst during the ride +from the station to the gaol. She asked him a number of questions, and +he told her that there was no doubt that the man she was going to see +was the man who had murdered Mr. Glenthorpe." + +"I suspected as much. But what else transpired during the interview? How +did Penreath receive Miss Willoughby's remark?" + +"Most peculiarly. He seemed about to speak, then checked himself with a +half smile, looked down on the ground, and said no more. Superintendent +Galloway signed to the policemen to remove him, and we withdrew. The +interview did not last more than a minute or so." + +"Miss Willoughby did not see him alone, then?" + +"No. Galloway told her that she would not be permitted to see him +alone." + +"And nothing more was said on either side while Penreath was in the +room?" + +"Nothing. Penreath's attitude struck me as that of a man who did not +wish to speak. He appeared self-conscious and confused, like a man with +a secret to hide." + +"Perhaps his silence was due to pride. After Miss Willoughby's tactless +remark he may have thought there was no use saying anything when his +sweetheart believed him guilty." Colwyn spoke without conviction; the +memory of Penreath's demeanour to him after his arrest was too fresh in +his mind. + +"You wrong Miss Willoughby. She is only too anxious to catch at any +straw of hope. When she learnt that you had been making some +investigations into the case she expressed an anxiety to see you. She +and her aunt yielded to my advice, and returned here to spend the night +at the hotel before going back to London. As they did not feel inclined +to face the ordeal of public scrutiny after the events of the day they +are dining in private, and they have asked me to take you to their room +when you are at liberty. Mr. Oakham has gone to Norwich, where he will +stay for some days to prepare the defence of this unhappy young man, but +he is coming here in the morning to see the ladies before they depart +for London. He asked me to tell you that he would like to see you also." + +"I shall be glad to see him, and Miss Willoughby as well. Have the +ladies asked you your opinion of the case?" + +"Naturally they did. I gave them the best comfort I could by hinting +that in my opinion Mr. Penreath is not in a state of mind at present in +which he can be held responsible for his actions. I did not say anything +about epilepsy--the word is not a pleasant one to use before ladies." + +"Did you tell them this in front of Galloway?" + +"Certainly not. A professional man in my position cannot be too careful. +I am glad now that I was so circumspect about this matter in my dealings +with the police--very glad indeed. It was my duty to tell Mr. Oakham, +and I did so. He was interested in what I told him--exceedingly so, and +was anxious to know if I had given my opinion of Penreath's condition to +anybody else. I mentioned that I had told you--in confidence." + +"And it was then, no doubt, that Mr. Oakham said he would like to see +me. I fancy I gather his drift. And now shall we visit Miss Willoughby?" + +"Yes, I should say the ladies will be expecting us," said Sir Henry, +looking at a fat watch with jewelled hands which registered golden +minutes for him in Harley Street. He beckoned a waiter, and asked him to +conduct them to Mrs. Brewer's sitting-room. The waiter led them along a +corridor on the first floor, tapped deferentially, opened the door +noiselessly in response to a feminine injunction to "come in," waited +for the gentlemen to enter, and then closed the door behind them. + +Two ladies rose to greet them. One was small and overdressed, with +fluffy hair and China blue eyes. She carried some knitting in her hand, +and a pet dog under her arm. Colwyn had no difficulty in identifying her +with the frequent photographs of Mrs. Brewer which appeared in Society +and illustrated papers. She belonged to a class of women who took +advantage of the war to advertise themselves by philanthropic +benefactions and war work, but she was able to distance most of her +competitors for newspaper notoriety by reason of her wealth. Her niece, +Miss Constance Willoughby, was of a different type. She was tall and +graceful, with dark eyes and level brows. A straight nose and a firm +chin indicated that their possessor was not lacking in a will of her +own. Her manner was self-possessed and assured--a trifle too much so for +a sensitive girl in the circumstances, Colwyn thought. Then he +remembered having read in some paper that Miss Willoughby was one of the +leaders of the new feminist movement which believed that the war had +brought about the complete emancipation of English woman-hood, and with +it the right to possess and display those qualities of character which +hitherto were supposed to be peculiarly masculine. It was perhaps owing +to her advocacy of these claims that Miss Willoughby felt herself called +upon to display self-possession and self-control at a trying time. +Colwyn, appraising her with his clear eye as Sir Henry introduced him, +found himself speculating as to the reasons which had caused Penreath +and her to fall in love with one another. + +"Please sit down, Mr. Colwyn," said Mrs. Brewer, resuming a comfortable +arm-chair in front of the fire, and adjusting the Pekingese on her lap. +"I am so grateful to you for coming to see us in this unconventional +way. I have been so anxious to see you! Everybody has heard of you, Mr. +Colwyn--you're so famous. It was only the other day that I was reading a +long article about you in some paper or other. I forget the name of the +paper, but I remember that it said a lot of flattering things about you +and your discoveries in crime. It said----Oh, you naughty, naughty +Jellicoe." This to the dog, which had become entangled in the skein of +wool on her lap, and was making frantic efforts to free itself. "Bad +little doggie, you've ruined this sock, and some poor soldier will have +to go with bare feet because you've been naughty! Are you a judge of +Pekingese, Mr. Colwyn? Don't you think Jellicoe a dear?" + +"Do you mean Sir John Jellicoe, Mrs. Brewer?" + +"Of course not! I mean my Pekingese. I've named him after our great +gallant commander, because it is through him we are all able to sleep +safe and sound in our beds these dreadful nights." + +"Sir John Jellicoe ought to feel flattered," said Colwyn gravely. + +"Yes, I really think he should," replied Mrs. Brewer innocently. +"Jellicoe is not a pretty name for a dog, but I think we should all be +patriotic just now. But tell me what you think of this dreadful case, +Mr. Colwyn. I am so frightfully distressed about it that I really don't +know what to do. How could Mr. Penreath do such a shocking thing? Why +didn't he go back to the front, if he had to kill somebody, instead of +hiding away from everybody and murdering this poor old man in this wild +spot? Such a disgrace to us all!" + +"Mr. Penreath has been in the Army, then?" asked Colwyn. + +"Of course. Didn't you know? He was in Mesopotamia, but was sent to the +West Front recently, where he won the D.S.O. for an act of great +gallantry under heavy fire, but was shortly afterwards invalided out of +the Army. It was in all the papers at the time." + +"You forget, my dear lady, that Mr. Penreath did not disclose his full +name while he was staying here," interposed Sir Henry solemnly. "I +myself was in complete ignorance of his identity until last night." + +"Why, of course--you told me this afternoon. My poor head! Whatever +induced Mr. Penreath to do such a thing as to conceal his name? So +common and vulgar! What motive could he have? What do you think his +motive was, Mr. Colwyn?" + +"I think, Aunt Florence, as your nerves are bad, that you had better +permit me to talk to Mr. Colwyn," said Miss Willoughby, speaking for the +first time. "Otherwise we shall get into a worse tangle than the +Pekingese." + +"I am sure I shall be only too relieved if you will talk to Mr. Colwyn," +rejoined the elder woman. "My head is really not equal to the task--my +nerves are so frightfully unstrung." + +Mrs. Brewer returned to the task of untangling the dog from the knitting +wool, and the girl faced the detective earnestly. + +"Mr. Colwyn," she said, "I understand you have been investigating this +terrible affair. Will you tell me what you think of it? Do you believe +that Mr. Penreath is guilty? You need not fear to be frank with me." + +"I will not hesitate to be so. I shall be pleased to give you my +conclusions about this case--so far as I have formed any--but I should +be greatly obliged if you would answer a few questions first. That might +help me to clear up one or two points on which I am at present in doubt, +and make my statement to you clearer." + +"Ask me any questions you wish." + +"Thank you. In the first place, how long is it since Mr. Penreath +returned from the front, invalided out of the Army?" + +"About two months ago." + +"Was he wounded?" + +"No. I understand that he broke down through shell-shock, and the +doctors said that it would be some time before he completely recovered. +I do not know the details. Mr. Penreath was very sensitive and reticent +about the matter, and so I forbore questioning him." + +Colwyn nodded sympathetically. + +"I understand. Have you noticed much difference in his demeanour since +he returned from the front?" + +"That question is a little difficult to answer," said the girl, +hesitating. + +"I can quite understand how you feel about it. My motive in asking the +question is to see if we can ascertain why Penreath came to Norfolk +under a concealed name, and then wandered over to this place, Flegne, in +an almost penniless condition, when he had plenty of friends who would +have supplied his needs, and, I should say, had money of his own in the +bank, for it is quite certain that he would be in receipt of an +allowance from his father. He acted most unusually for a young man of +his standing and position, and I am wondering if shell-shock left him in +that restless, unsettled, reckless condition which is one of its worst +effects." + +"I have seen so little of him since he returned from the front that it +is difficult for me to answer you," said the girl, after a pause. "He +went down to Berkshire to his father's place on his return, and stayed +there a month. Then he came to London, and we met several times, but +rarely alone. I am very deeply engaged in war work, and was unable to +give him much of my time. When I did see him he struck me as rather +moody and distrait, but I put that down to his illness, and the fact +that he must naturally feel unhappy at his forced inaction. My friends +paid him much attention and sent him many invitations--in fact, they +would have made quite a fuss of him if he had let them--and, of course, +he had friends of his own, but he didn't seem to want to go anywhere, +and he told me once or twice that he wished people would let him alone. +I pointed out to him that he had his duty to do in Society as well as at +the front, but he said he disliked Society, particularly in war-time. +About three weeks ago he told me one night at a dance that he was sick +of London, and thought he would be better for a change of air. He was +looking rather pale, and I agreed he would be the better for a change. I +asked him where he intended going, and he said he thought he would try +the east coast--he didn't say what part. He left me with the intention +of going away the next day. That was the last I saw of him--until +to-day." + +"You got no letter from him?" + +"I did not hear from him--nor of him--until I saw his description +published in the London newspapers as that of a criminal wanted by the +police." + +Miss Willoughby uttered the last sentence in some bitterness, with a +sparkle of resentment in her eyes. It was apparent that she considered +she had been badly treated by her lover, and that his arrest had +hardened, instead of softening, her feelings of resentment. + +"I am much obliged to you for answering my questions, Miss Willoughby," +said the detective. "As I told you before, they are not dictated by +curiosity, but in the hope of eliciting some information which would +throw light on this puzzling case." + +"A puzzling case! You consider it a puzzling case, Mr. Colwyn?" She +glanced at him with a more eager and girlish expression than he had yet +seen on her face. "I understood from the police officer that there was +no room for doubt in the matter. Sir Henry Durwood shares the police +view." She turned a swift questioning glance in the specialist's +direction. + +Sir Henry caught the glance, and felt it incumbent upon himself to utter +a solemn commonplace. + +"I beg of you not to raise false hopes in Miss Willoughby's breast, Mr. +Colwyn," he said. + +"I have no intention of doing so," returned the detective. "On the other +hand, I protest against everybody condemning Penreath until it is +certain he is guilty. And now, Miss Willoughby, I will tell you what I +have discovered." + +He entered upon a brief account of his investigations at the inn, with +the exception that he omitted the visit of Peggy to the murdered man's +chamber and her subsequent explanation. Miss Willoughby listened +attentively, and, when he had concluded, remarked: + +"Do you think the wax and tallow candle-grease dropped in the room +suggests the presence of two persons?" + +"I feel sure that it does." + +"And who do you think the other was?" + +"It is not yet proved that Penreath was one of them." + +She flushed under the implied reproof, and hurriedly added: + +"Have you acquainted the police with your discoveries, Mr. Colwyn?" + +"I have, and I am bound to say that they attach very little importance +to them." + +"Do you propose to go any further with your investigations?" + +"I would prefer not to answer that question until I have seen Mr. Oakham +to-morrow." + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +When Colwyn went in to lunch the following day after a walk on the +front, he found Sir Henry awaiting him in the lounge with a visitor +whose identity the detective guessed before Sir Henry introduced him. + +"This is Mr. Oakham," said Sir Henry. "I have told him of your +investigation into this painful case which has brought him to Norfolk." + +"An investigation in which you helped," said Colwyn, with a smile. + +"I am afraid it would be stretching the fable of the mouse and the lion +to suggest that I was able to help such a renowned criminal investigator +as yourself," returned Sir Henry waggishly. "When Mr. Oakham learnt that +you had been investigating this case he expressed a strong desire to see +you." + +"I am returning to London by the afternoon express, Mr. Colwyn," said +the solicitor. "I should be glad if you could spare me a little of your +time before I go." + +"Certainly," replied Colwyn, courteously. "It had better be at once, had +it not? You have not very much time at your disposal." + +"If it does not inconvenience you," replied Mr. Oakham politely. "But +your lunch----" + +"That can wait," said the detective. "I feel deeply interested in this +case of young Penreath." + +"Mr. Oakham saw him this morning before coming over," said Sir Henry. +"He is quite mad, and refuses to say anything. Therefore, we have come +to the conclusion----" + +"Really, Sir Henry, you shouldn't have said that." Mr. Oakham's tone was +both shocked and expostulatory. + +"Why not?" retorted Sir Henry innocently. "Mr. Colwyn knows all about +it--I told him myself. I thought you wanted him to help you?" + +"I am aware of that, but, my dear sir, this is an extremely delicate and +difficult business. As Mr. Penreath's professional adviser, I must beg +of you to exercise more reticence." + +"Then I had better go and have my lunch while you two have a chat," said +Sir Henry urbanely, "or I shall only be putting my foot in it again. Mr. +Oakham, I shall see you before you go." Sir Henry moved off in the +direction of the luncheon room. + +"Perhaps you will come to my sitting-room," said Colwyn to Mr. Oakham. +"We can talk quietly there." + +"Thank you," responded Mr. Oakham, and he went with the detective +upstairs. + +Mr. Oakham, of Oakham and Pendules, Temple Gardens, was a little +white-haired man of seventy, attired in the sombre black of the +Victorian era, with a polished reticent manner befitting the senior +partner of a firm of solicitors owning the most aristocratic practice in +England; a firm so eminently respectable that they never rendered a bill +of costs to a client until he was dead, when the amount of legal +expenses incurred during his lifetime was treated as a charge upon the +family estate, and deducted from the moneys accruing to the next heir, +who, in his turn, was allowed to run his allotted course without a bill +from Oakham and Pendules. They were a discreet and dignified firm, as +ancient as some of the names whose family secrets were locked away in +their office deed boxes, and were reputed to know more of the inner +history of the gentry in Burke's Peerage than all the rest of the legal +profession put together. + +The arrest of the only son of Sir James Penreath, of Twelvetrees, Berks, +on a charge of murder, had shocked Mr. Oakham deeply. Divorces had come +his way in plenty, though he remembered the day when they were +considered scandalous in good families. But the modern generation had +changed all that, and Mr. Oakham had since listened to so many stories +of marital wrongs, and had assisted in obtaining so many orders for +restitution of conjugal rights, that he had come to regard divorce as +fashionable enough to be respectable. He was intimately versed in most +human failings and follies, and a past master in preventing their +consequences coming to light. Financial embarrassments he was well used +to--they might almost be said to be his forte--for many of his clients +had more lineage than money, but the crime of murder was a thing outside +his professional experience. + +The upper classes of the present generation had, in this respect at +least, improved on the morals of their freebooting ancestors, and murder +had gone so completely out of fashion among the aristocracy that Mr. +Oakham had never been called upon to prepare the defence of a client +charged with killing a fellow creature. Mr. Oakham regarded murder as an +ungentlemanly crime. He believed that no gentleman would commit murder +unless he were mad. Since his arrival in Norfolk he had come to the +conclusion that young Penreath was not only mad, but that he had +committed the murder with which he stood charged. Sir Henry Durwood had +been responsible for the first opinion, and the police had helped him to +form the second. Two interviews he had had with his client since his +arrest had strengthened and deepened both convictions. + +It was in this frame of mind that Mr. Oakham seated himself in the +detective's sitting room. He accepted a cigar from Colwyn's case, and +looked amiably at his companion, who waited for him to speak. The +interview had been of the solicitor's seeking, and it was for him to +disclose his object in doing so. + +"This is a very unfortunate case, Mr. Colwyn," the solicitor remarked. + +"Yes; it seems so," replied Colwyn. + +"I am afraid there is not the slightest doubt that this unhappy young +man has committed this murder." + +"You have arrived at that conclusion?" + +"It is impossible to arrive at any other conclusion, in view of the +evidence." + +"It is purely circumstantial. I thought that perhaps Penreath would have +some statement to make which would throw a different light on the case." + +"I will be frank with you, Mr. Colwyn," said the solicitor. "You are +acquainted with all the facts of the case, and I hope you will be able +to help us. Penreath's attitude is a very strange one. Apparently he +does not apprehend the grave position in which he stands. I am forced to +the conclusion that he is suffering from an unhappy aberration of the +intellect, which has led to his committing this crime. His conduct since +coming to Norfolk has not been that of a sane man. He has hidden himself +away from his friends, and stayed here under a false name. I understand +that he behaved in an eccentric and violent way in the breakfast room of +this hotel on the morning of the day he left for the place where the +murder was subsequently committed." + +"You have learnt this from Sir Henry, I presume?" + +"Yes. Sir Henry has conveyed to me his opinion, based on his observation +of Mr. Penreath's eccentricity at the breakfast table the last morning +of his stay here, that Mr. Penreath is an epileptic, liable to attacks +of _furor epilepticus_--a phase of the disease which sometimes leads to +outbreaks of terrible violence. He thought it advisable that I should +know this at once, in view of what has happened since. Sir Henry +informed me that he confided a similar opinion to you, as you were +present at the time, and assisted him to convey Penreath upstairs. May I +ask what opinion you formed of his behaviour at the breakfast table, Mr. +Colwyn?" + +"I thought he was excited--nothing more." + +"But the violence, Mr. Colwyn! Sir Henry Durwood says Penreath was about +to commit a violent assault on the people at the next table when he +interfered." + +"The violence was not apparent--to me," returned the detective, who did +not feel called upon to disclose his secret belief that Sir Henry had +acted hastily. "Apart from the excitement he displayed on this +particular morning, Penreath seemed to me a normal and average young +Englishman of his class. I certainly saw no signs of insanity about him. +It occurred to me at the time that his excitement might be the outcome +of shell-shock. We had had an air raid two nights before, and some +shell-shock cases are badly affected by air raids. I have since been +informed that Penreath was invalided out of the Army recently, suffering +from shell-shock." + +"In Sir Henry's opinion the shell-shock has aggravated a tendency to the +disease." + +"Has Penreath ever shown any previous signs of epilepsy?" + +"Not so far as I am aware, but his mother developed the disease in later +years, and ultimately died from it. Her illness was a source of great +worry and anxiety to Sir James. And epilepsy is hereditary." + +"Pathologists differ on that point. I know something of the disease, and +I doubt whether Penreath is an epileptic. He showed none of the symptoms +which I have always associated with epilepsy." + +"An eminent specialist like Sir Henry is hardly likely to be mistaken. +The fact that Penreath seemed a sane and collected individual to your +eye proves nothing. Epileptic attacks are intermittent, and the sufferer +may appear quite sane between the attacks. Epilepsy is a remarkable +disease. A latent tendency to it may exist for years without those +nearest and dearest to the sufferer suspecting it, so Sir Henry says. +Penreath's case is a very strange and sad one." + +"It is a strange case in very way," said Colwyn earnestly. "Why should a +young man like Penreath go over to this remote Norfolk village, where he +had not been before, and murder an old man whom he had never seen +previously? The police theory that this murder was committed for the +sake of £300 which the victim had drawn out of the bank that day seems +incredible to me, in the case of a young man like Penreath." + +"The only way of accounting for the whole unhappy business is on Sir +Henry's hypothesis that Penreath is mad. In acute epileptic mania there +are cases in which there is a seeming calmness of conduct, and these are +the most dangerous of all. The patient walks about like a man in a +dream, impelled by a force which he cannot resist, and does all sorts of +things without conscious purpose. He will take long walks to places he +has never been, will steal money or valuables, and commit murder or +suicide with apparent coolness and cunning. Sir Henry describes this as +automatic action, and he says that it is a notable characteristic of +the form of epileptic mania from which Penreath is suffering. You will +observe that these symptoms fit in with all the facts of the case +against Penreath. The facts, unfortunately, are so clear that there is +no gainsaying them." + +"It seems so now," said Colwyn thoughtfully. "Yet, when I was +investigating the facts at the time, I came across several points which +seemed to suggest the possibility of an alternative theory to the police +theory." + +"I should like to know what those points are." + +"I will tell you." + +The detective proceeded to set forth the result of his visit to the inn, +and the solicitor listened to him with close attention. When he had +finished Mr. Oakham remarked: + +"I am afraid there is not much in these points, Mr. Colwyn. Your +suggestion that there were two persons in the murdered man's room is +interesting, but you have no evidence to support it. The girl's +explanation of her visit to the room is probably the true one. Far be it +from me, as Penreath's legal adviser, to throw away the slightest straw +of hope, but your conjectures--for, to my mind, they are nothing +more--are nothing against the array of facts and suspicious +circumstances which have been collected by the police. And even if the +police case were less strong, there is another grave fact which we +cannot overlook." + +"You mean that Penreath refuses to say anything?" said Colwyn. + +"He appears to be somewhat indifferent to the outcome," returned the +lawyer guardedly. + +"It is his silence which baffles me," said Colwyn. "I saw him alone +after his arrest, and told him I was willing to help him if he could +tell me anything which would assist me to establish his innocence--if +he were innocent. He replied that he had nothing to say." + +"What you tell me deepens my conviction that Penreath does not realise +the position in which he is placed, and cannot be held accountable for +his actions." + +"Is it your intention to plead mental incapacity at the trial?" + +"Sir Henry Durwood has offered to give evidence that, in his opinion, +Penreath is not responsible for his actions. The Penreath family is +under a debt of gratitude to Sir Henry. I consider it little short of +providential that Sir Henry was staying here at the time." Like most +lawyers, Mr. Oakham had a firm belief in the interposition of +Providence--particularly in the affairs of the families of the great. +"And that is the reason for my coming over here to see you this morning, +Mr. Colwyn. You were present at the breakfast table scene--you witnessed +this young man's eccentricity and violence. The Penreath family is +already under a debt of gratitude to you--will you increase the +obligation? In other words, will you give evidence in support of the +defence at the trial?" + +"You want me to assist you in convincing the jury that Penreath is a +criminal lunatic," said Colwyn. "That is what your defence amounts to. +It is a grave responsibility. Doctors and specialists are sometimes +mistaken, you know." + +"I am afraid there is very little doubt in this case. Here is a young +man of birth and breeding, who hides from his friends under an assumed +name, behaves in public in an eccentric manner, is turned out of his +hotel, goes to a remote inn, and disappears before anybody is up. The +body of a gentleman who occupied the room next to him is subsequently +discovered in a pit close by, and the footprints leading to the pit are +those of our young friend. The young man is subsequently arrested close +to the place where the body was thrown, and not then, or since, has he +offered his friends any explanation of his actions. In the +circumstances, therefore, I shall avail myself of Sir Henry's evidence. +In my own mind--from my own observation and conversation with +Penreath--I am convinced that he cannot be held responsible for his +actions. In view of the tremendously strong case against him, in view of +his peculiar attitude to you--and others--in the face of accusation, and +in view of his previous eccentric behaviour, I shall take the only +possible course to save the son of Penreath of Twelvetrees from the +gallows. I had hoped, Mr. Colwyn, that you, who witnessed the scene at +this hotel, and subsequently helped Sir Henry Durwood convey this +unhappy young man upstairs, would see your way clear to support Sir +Henry's expert opinion that this young man is insane. Your reputation +and renown would carry weight with the jury." + +"I am sorry, but I am afraid you must do without me," replied Colwyn. +"In view of Penreath's silence I can come to no other conclusion, though +against my better judgment, than that he is guilty, but I cannot take +upon myself the responsibility of declaring that he is insane. In spite +of Sir Henry Durwood's opinion, I cannot believe that he is, or was. It +will be a difficult defence to establish in the case of Penreath. If you +wish the jury to say that Penreath is the victim of what French writers +call _epilepsie larvée_, in which an outbreak of brutal or homicidal +violence takes the place of an epileptic fit, with a similar break in +the continuity of consciousness, you will first have to convince the +judge that Penreath's preceding fits were so slight as to permit the +possibility of their being overlooked, and you will also have to +establish beyond doubt that the break in his consciousness existed from +the time of the scene in the hotel breakfast-room until the time the +murder was committed. The test of that state is the unintelligent +character of some of the acts of the sufferer. In my opinion, a defence +of insanity is not likely to be successful. Personally, I shall go no +further in the case, but I cannot give up my original opinion that the +whole of the facts in this case have not been brought to light. Probably +they never will be--now." + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +Although no hint of the defence was supposed to transpire, the magic +words "No precedent" were whispered about in legal circles as the day +for Penreath's trial approached, and invested the case with more than +ordinary interest in professional eyes. Editors of London legal journals +endeavoured to extract something definite from Mr. Oakham when he +returned to London to brief counsel and prepare the defence, but the +lunches they lavished on him in pursuit of information might have been +spent with equal profit on the Sphinx. + +The editors had to content themselves with sending shorthand writers to +Norwich to report the case fully for the benefit of their circle of +readers, whose appetite for a legal quibble was never satiated by +repetition. + +On the other hand, the case aroused but languid interest in the breasts +of the ordinary public. The newspapers had not given the story of the +murder much prominence in their columns, because murders were only good +copy in war-time in the slack season between military offensives, and, +moreover, this particular case lacked the essentials of what modern +editors call, in American journalese jargon, "a good feature story." In +other words, it was not sufficiently sensational or immoral to appeal to +the palates of newspaper readers. It lacked the spectacular elements of +a filmed drama; there was no woman in the case or unwritten law. + +It was true that the revelation of the identity of the accused man had +aroused a passing interest in the case, bringing it up from paragraph +value on the back page to a "two-heading item" on the "splash" page, but +that interest soon died away, for, after all, the son of a Berkshire +baronet was small beer in war's levelling days, when peers worked in +overalls in munition factories, and personages of even more exalted rank +sold pennyworths of ham in East-end communal kitchens. + +Nevertheless, because of the perennial interest which attaches to all +murder trials, the Norwich Assizes Court was filled with spectators on +the dull drizzling November day when the case was heard, and the fact +that the accused was young and good-looking and of gentle birth probably +accounted for the sprinkling of well-dressed women amongst the audience. +The younger ones eyed him with sympathy as he was brought into the dock: +his good looks, his blue eyes, his air of breeding, his well-cut +clothes, appealed to their sensibilities, and if they had been given the +opportunity they would have acquitted him without the formality of a +trial as far "too nice a boy" to have committed murder. + +To the array of legal talent assembled together by the golden wand of +Costs the figure of the accused man had no personal significance but the +actual facts at issue entered as little into their minds as into the +pitying hearts of the female spectators. The accused had no individual +existence so far as they were concerned: he was merely a pawn in the +great legal game, of which the lawyers were the players and the judge +the referee, and the side which won the pawn won the game. As this +particular game represented an attack on the sacred tradition of +Precedent, both sides had secured the strongest professional intellects +possible to contest the match, and the lesser legal fry of Norwich had +gathered together to witness the struggle, and pick up what points they +could. + +The leader for the prosecution was Sir Herbert Templewood, K.C., M.P., a +political barrister, with a Society wife, a polished manner, and a +deadly gift of cross-examination. With him was Mr. Grover Braecroft, a +dour Scotch lawyer of fifty-five, who was currently believed to know the +law from A to Z, and really had an intimate acquaintance with those five +letters which made up the magic word Costs. Apart from this valuable +knowledge, he was a cunning and crafty lawyer, picked in the present +case to supply the brains to Sir Herbert Templewood's brilliance, and do +the jackal work which the lion disdained. The pair were supported by a +Crown Solicitor well versed in precedents--a little prim figure of a man +who sat with so many volumes of judicial decisions and reports of test +cases piled in front of him that only the upper portion of his grey head +was visible above the books. + +The defence relied mainly upon Mr. Reginald Middleheath, the eminent +criminal counsel, who depended as much upon his portly imposing stage +presence to bluff juries into an acquittal as upon his legal +attainments, which were also considerable. Mr. Middleheath's cardinal +article of legal faith was that all juries were fools, and should be +treated as such, because if they once got the idea into their heads that +they knew something about the case they were trying they were bound to +convict in order to sustain their reputation for intelligence. One of +Mr. Middleheath's favourite tricks for disabusing a jury of the belief +that they possessed any common sense was, before addressing them, to +stare each juryman in the face for half a minute or so in turn with his +piercing penetrative eyes, accompanying the look with a pitying +contemptuous smile, the gaze and the smile implying that counsel for the +opposite side may have flattered them into believing that their +intelligences were fit to try such an intricate case, but they couldn't +deceive _him_. + +Having robbed the jury of their self-esteem by this means, Mr. +Middleheath would proceed to put them on good terms with themselves +again by insinuating in persuasive tones that the case was one +calculated to perplex the most astute legal brain. He would frankly +confess that it had perplexed him at first, but as he had mastered its +intricacies the jury were welcome to his laboriously acquired knowledge +in order to help them in arriving at a right decision. Mr. Middleheath's +junior was Mr. Garden Greyson, a thin ascetic looking lawyer whose +knowledge of medical jurisprudence had brought him his brief in the +case. Mr. Oakham sat beside Mr. Greyson with various big books in front +of him. + +The judge was Mr. Justice Redington, whose presence on the bench was +always considered a strengthening factor in the Crown case. Judges +differ as much as ordinary human beings, and are as human in their +peculiarities as the juries they direct and the prisoners they try. +There are good-tempered and bad-tempered judges, harsh and tender +judges, learned and foolish judges, there are even judges with an eye to +self-advertisement, and a few wise ones. Mr. Justice Redington belonged +to that class of judges who, while endeavouring to hold the balance +fairly between the Crown and the defence, see to it that the accused +does not get overweight from the scales of justice. Such judges take +advantage of their judicial office by cross-examining witnesses for the +defence after the Crown Prosecutor has finished with them, in the effort +to bring to light some damaging fact or contradiction which the previous +examination has failed to elicit. In other respects, Mr. Justice +Redington was a very fair judge, and he worked as industriously as any +newspaper reporter, taking extensive notes of all his cases with a gold +fountain pen, which he filled himself from one of the court inkstands +whenever it ran dry. In appearance he was a florid and pleasant looking +man, and his hobby off the bench was farming his own land and breeding +prize cattle. + +There were the usual preliminaries, equivalent to the clearing of the +course or the placing of the pieces, which bored the regular habitués of +the court but whetted the appetites of the more unsophisticated +spectators. First there was the lengthy process of empanelling a jury, +with the inevitable accompaniment of challenges and objections, until +the most unintelligent looking dozen of the panel finally found +themselves in the jury box. Then the Clerk of Arraigns gabbled over the +charges: wilful murder of Roger Glenthorpe on 26th October, 1916, and +feloniously stealing from the said Roger Glenthorpe the sum of £300 on +the same date. To these charges the accused man pleaded "Not guilty" in +a low voice. The jury were directed on the first indictment only, and +Sir Herbert Templewood got up to address the jury. + +Sir Herbert knew very little about the case, but his junior was well +informed; and what Mr. Braecroft didn't know he got from the Crown +Solicitor, who sat behind the barristers' table, ready to lean forward +at the slightest indication and supply any points which were required. +Under this system of spoon-feeding Sir Herbert ambled comfortably along, +reserving his showy paces for the cross-examination of witnesses for the +defence. + +Sir Herbert commenced by describing the case as a straightforward one +which would offer no difficulty to an intelligent jury. It was true that +it rested on circumstantial evidence, but that evidence was of the +strongest nature, and pointed so clearly in the one direction, that the +jury could come to no other conclusion than that the prisoner at the bar +had committed the murder with which he stood charged. + +With this preamble, the Crown Prosecutor proceeded to put together the +chain of circumstantial evidence against the accused with the deliberate +logic of the legal brain, piecing together incidents, interpreting +clues, probing motives, and fashioning together the whole tremendous +apparatus of circumstantial evidence with the intent air of a man +building an unbreakable cage for a wild beast. As Colwyn had +anticipated, the incident at the Durrington hotel had been dropped from +the Crown case. That part of the presentment was confined to the +statement that Penreath had registered at the hotel under a wrong name, +and had left without paying his bill. The first fact suggested that the +accused had something to hide, the second established a motive for the +subsequent murder. + +Sir Herbert Templewood concluded his address in less than an hour, and +proceeded to call evidence for the prosecution. There were nine +witnesses: that strangely assorted pair, the innkeeper and Charles, the +deaf waiter, Ann, the servant, the two men who had recovered Mr. +Glenthorpe's body from the pit, the Heathfield doctor, who testified as +to the cause of death, Superintendent Galloway, who gave the court the +result of the joint investigations of the chief constable and himself at +the inn, Police-Constable Queensmead, who described the arrest and +Inspector Fredericks, of Norwich, who was in charge of the Norwich +station when the accused was taken there from Flegne. In order to save +another witness being called, Counsel for the defence admitted that +accused had registered at the Grand Hotel, Durrington, under a wrong +name, and left without paying his bill. + +Mr. Middleheath cross-examined none of the witnesses for the prosecution +except the last one, and his forensic restraint was placed on record by +the depositions clerk in the exact words of the unvarying formula +between bench and bar. "Do you ask anything, Mr. Middleheath?" Mr. +Justice Redington would ask, with punctilious politeness, when the Crown +Prosecutor sat down after examining a witness. To which Mr. Middleheath +would reply, in tones of equal courtesy: "I ask nothing, my lord." +Counsel's cross-examination of Inspector Fredericks consisted of two +questions, intended to throw light on the accused's state of mind after +his arrest. Inspector Fredericks declared that he was, in his opinion, +quite calm and rational. + +Mr. Middleheath's opening address to the jury for the defence was brief, +and, to sharp legal ears, vague and unconvincing. Although he pointed +out that the evidence was purely circumstantial, and that in the absence +of direct testimony the accused was entitled to the benefit of any +reasonable doubt, he did not attempt to controvert the statements of the +Crown witnesses, or suggest that the Crown had not established its case. +His address, combined with the fact that he had not cross-examined any +of the Crown witnesses, suggested to the listening lawyers that he had +either a very strong defence or none at all. The point was left in +suspense for the time being by Mr. Justice Redington suggesting that, in +view of the lateness of the hour, Counsel should defer calling evidence +for the defence until the following day. As a judicial suggestion is a +command, the court was adjourned accordingly, the judge first warning +the jury not to try to come to any conclusion, or form an opinion as to +what their verdict should be, until they had heard the evidence for the +prisoner. + +When the case was continued the next day, the first witness called for +the defence was Dr. Robert Greydon, an elderly country practitioner with +the precise professional manner of a past medical generation, who stated +that he practised at Twelvetrees, Berkshire, and was the family doctor +of the Penreath family. In reply to Mr. Middleheath he stated that he +had frequently attended the late Lady Penreath, the mother of the +accused, for fits or seizures from which she suffered periodically, and +that the London specialist who had been called into consultation on one +occasion had agreed with him that the seizures were epileptic. + +"I want to give every latitude to the defence," said Sir Herbert +Templewood, rising in dignified protest, "but I am afraid I cannot +permit this conversation to go in. My learned friend must call the +London specialist if he wants to get it in." + +"I will waive the point as my learned friend objects," said Mr. +Middleheath, satisfied that he had "got it in" the jury's ears, "and +content myself with asking Dr. Greydon whether, from his own knowledge, +Lady Penreath suffered from epilepsy." + +"Undoubtedly," replied the witness. + +"One moment," said the judge, looking up from his notes. "Where is this +evidence tending, Mr. Middleheath?" + +"My lord," replied Mr. Middleheath solemnly, "I wish the court to know +all the facts on which we rely." + +The judge bowed his head and waved his gold fountain-pen as an +indication that the examination might proceed. The witness said that +Lady Penreath was undoubtedly an epileptic, and suffered from attacks +extending over twenty years, commencing when her only son was five years +old, and continuing till her death ten years ago. For some years the +attacks were slight, without convulsions, but ultimately the grand mal +became well developed, and several attacks in rapid succession +ultimately caused her death. In the witness's opinion epilepsy was an +hereditary disease, frequently transmitted to the offspring, if either +or both parents suffered from it. + +"Have you ever seen any signs of epilepsy in Lady Penreath's son--the +prisoner at the bar?" asked Sir Herbert, who began to divine the +direction of the defence. + +"Never," replied the witness. + +"Was he under your care in his infancy and boyhood? I mean were you +called in to attend to his youthful ailments?" + +"Yes, until he went to school." + +"And was he a normal and healthy boy?" + +"Quite." + +"Did you see him when he returned home recently?" asked Mr. Middleheath, +rising to re-examine. + +"Yes." + +"You are aware he was discharged from the Army suffering from +shell-shock?" + +"Yes." + +"And did you notice a marked change in him?" + +"Very marked indeed. He struck me as odd and forgetful at times, and +sometimes he seemed momentarily to lose touch with his surroundings. He +used to be very bright and good-tempered, but he returned from the war +irritable and moody, and very silent, disliking, above all things, to be +questioned about his experiences at the front. He used to be the very +soul of courtesy, but when he returned from the front he refused to +attend a 'welcome home' at the village church and hear the vicar read a +congratulatory address." + +"I hope you are not going to advance the latter incident as a proof of +_non compos mentis_, Mr. Middleheath," said the judge facetiously. + +In the ripples of mirth which this judicial sally aroused, the little +doctor was permitted to leave the box, and depart for his native +obscurity of Twelvetrees. He had served his purpose, so far as Mr. +Middleheath was concerned, and Sir Herbert Templewood was too good a +sportsman to waste skilful flies on such a small fish, which would do no +honour to his bag if hooked. + +Sir Herbert Templewood and every lawyer in court were by now aware that +the defence were unable to meet the Crown case, but were going to fight +for a verdict of insanity. The legal fraternity realised the +difficulties of that defence in a case of murder. It would be necessary +not only to convince the jury that the accused did not know the +difference between right and wrong, but to convince the judge, in the +finer legal interpretation of criminal insanity, that the accused did +not know the nature of the act he was charged with committing, in the +sense that he was unable to distinguish whether it was right or wrong at +the moment of committing it. The law, which assumes that a man is sane +and responsible for his acts, throws upon the defence the onus of +proving otherwise, and proving it up to the hilt, before it permits an +accused person to escape the responsibility of his acts. Such a defence +usually resolves itself into a battle between medical experts and the +counsel engaged, the Crown endeavouring to upset the medical evidence +for the defence with medical evidence in rebuttal. + +The lawyers in court settled back with a new enjoyment at the prospect +of the legal and medical hair-splitting and quibbling which invariably +accompanies an encounter of this kind, and Crown Counsel and solicitors +displayed sudden activity. Sir Herbert Templewood and Mr. Braecroft held +a whispered consultation, and then Mr. Braecroft passed a note to the +Crown Solicitor, who hurried from the court and presently returned +carrying a formidable pile of dusty volumes, which he placed in front of +junior counsel. The most uninterested person in court seemed the man in +the dock, who sat looking into a vacancy with a bored expression on his +handsome face, as if he were indifferent to the fight on which his +existence depended. + +The next witness was Miss Constance Willoughby, who gave her testimony +in low clear tones, and with perfect self-possession. It was observed by +the feminine element in court that she did not look at her lover in the +dock, but kept her eyes steadily fixed on Mr. Middleheath. Her story was +a straightforward and simple one. She had become engaged to Mr. Penreath +shortly before the war, and had seen him several times since he was +invalided out of the Army. The last occasion was a month ago, when he +called at her aunt's house at Lancaster Gate. She had noticed a great +change in him since his return from the front. He was moody and +depressed. She did not question him about his illness, as she thought he +was out of spirits because he had been invalided out of the Army, and +did not want to talk about it. He told her he intended to go away for a +change until he got right again--he had not made up his mind where, but +he thought somewhere on the East Coast, where it was cool and bracing, +would suit him best--and he would write to her as soon as he got +settled anywhere. She did not see him again, and did not hear from him +or know anything of his movements till she read his description in a +London paper as that of a man wanted by the Norfolk police for murder. +Her aunt, who showed her the paper, communicated with the Penreaths' +solicitor, Mr. Oakham. The following day she and her aunt were taken to +Heathfield and identified the accused. + +"Your aunt took action to allay your anxiety, I understand?" said Mr. +Heathfield, whose watchful eye had noted the unfavourable effect of this +statement on the jury. + +The witness bowed. + +"Yes," she replied. "I was terribly anxious, as I had not heard from Mr. +Penreath since he went away. Anything was better than the suspense." + +"You say accused was moody and depressed when you saw him?" asked Sir +Herbert Templewood. + +"Yes." + +"May I take it that there was nothing terrifying in his +behaviour--nothing to indicate that he was not in his right mind?" + +"No," replied the witness slowly. "He did not frighten me, but I was +concerned about him. He certainly looked ill, and I thought he seemed a +little strange." + +"As though he had something on his mind?" suggested Sir Herbert. + +"Yes," assented the witness. + +"Were you aware that the accused, when he went to see you at your aunt's +home before he departed for Norfolk, was very short of money?" + +"I was not. If I had known----" + +"You would have helped him--is that what you were going to say?" asked +Mr. Middleheath, as Sir Herbert resumed his seat without pursuing the +point. + +"My aunt would have helped Mr. Penreath if she had known he was in +monetary difficulties." + +"Thank you." Mr. Middleheath sat down, pulling his gown over his +shoulders. + +The witness was leaving the stand when the sharp authoritative voice of +the judge stopped her. + +"Wait a minute, please, I want to get this a little clearer. You said +you were aware that the accused was discharged from the Army suffering +from shell-shock. Did he tell you so himself?" + +"No, my lord. I was informed so." + +"Really, Mr. Middleheath----" + +The judge's glance at Counsel for the Defence was so judicial that it +brought Mr. Middleheath hurriedly to his feet again. + +"My lord," he explained, "I intend to prove in due course that the +prisoner was invalided out of the Army suffering from shell-shock." + +"Very well." The judge motioned to the witness that she was at liberty +to leave the box. + +The appearance of Sir Henry Durwood in the box as the next witness +indicated to Crown Counsel that the principal card for the defence was +about to be played. Lawyers conduct defences as some people play +bridge--they keep the biggest trump to the last. Sir Henry represented +the highest trump in Mr. Middleheath's hand, and if he could not score +with him the game was lost. + +Sir Henry seemed not unconscious of his importance to the case as he +stepped into the stand and bowed to the judge with bland professional +equality. His evidence-in-chief was short, but to the point, and +amounted to a recapitulation of the statement he had made to Colwyn in +Penreath's bedroom on the morning of the episode in the breakfast-room +of the Grand Hotel, Durrington. Sir Henry related the events of that +morning for the benefit of the jury, and in sonorous tones expressed his +professional opinion that the accused's strange behaviour on that +occasion was the result of an attack of epilepsy--petit mal, combined +with _furor epilepticus_. + +The witness defined epilepsy as a disease of the nervous system, marked +by attacks of unconsciousness, with or without convulsions. The loss of +consciousness with severe convulsive seizures was known as grand mal, +the transient loss of consciousness without convulsive seizures was +called petit mal. Attacks of petit mal might come on at any time, and +were usually accompanied by a feeling of faintness and vertigo. The +general symptoms were sudden jerkings of the limbs, sudden tremors, +giddiness and unconsciousness. The eyes became fixed, the face slightly +pale, sometimes very red, and there was frequently some almost automatic +action. In grand mal there was always warning of an attack, in petit mal +there was no warning as a rule, but sometimes there was premonitory +giddiness and restlessness. _Furor epilepticus_ was a medical term +applied to the violence displayed during attacks of petit mal, a +violence which was much greater than extreme anger, and under its +influence the subject was capable of committing the most violent +outrages, even murder, without being conscious of the act. + +"There is no doubt in your mind that the accused man had an attack of +petit mal in the breakfast-room of the Durrington hotel the morning +before the murder?" asked Mr. Middleheath. + +"None whatever. All the symptoms pointed to it. He was sitting at the +breakfast table when he suddenly ceased eating, and his eyes grew +fixed. The knife which he held in his hand was dropped, but as the +attack increased he picked it up again and thrust it into the table in +front of him--a purely automatic action, in my opinion. When he sprang +up from the table a little while afterwards he was under the influence +of the epileptic fury, and would have made a violent attack on the +people sitting at the next table if I had not seized him. +Unconsciousness then supervened, and, with the aid of another of the +hotel guests, I carried him to his room. It was there I noticed foam on +his lips. When he returned to consciousness he had no recollection of +what had occurred, which is consistent with an epileptic seizure. I saw +that his condition was dangerous, and urged him to send for his friends, +but he refused to do so." + +"It would have been better if he had followed your advice. You say it is +consistent with epilepsy for him to have no recollection of what +occurred during this seizure in the hotel breakfast room. What would a +man's condition of mind be if, during an attack of petit mal, he +committed an act of violence, say murder, for example?" + +"The mind is generally a complete blank. Sometimes there is a confused +sense of something, but the patient has no recollection of what has +occurred, in my experience." + +"In this case the prisoner is charged with murder. Could he have +committed this offence during another attack of _furor epilepticus_ and +recollect nothing about it afterwards? Is that consistent?" + +"Yes, quite consistent," replied the witness. + +"Is epilepsy an hereditary disease?" + +"Yes." + +"And if both parents, or one of them, suffered from epilepsy, would +there be a great risk of the children suffering from it?" + +"Every risk in the case of both persons being affected; some probability +in the case of one." + +"What do you think would be the effect of shell-shock on a person born +of one epileptic parent?" + +"It would probably aggravate a tendency to epilepsy, by lowering the +general health." + +"Thank you, Sir Henry." + +Mr. Middleheath resumed his seat, and Sir Herbert Templewood got up to +cross-examine. + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +Sir Herbert Templewood did not believe the evidence of the specialist, +and he did not think the witness believed it himself. Sir Herbert did +not think any the worse of the witness on that account. It was one of +the recognised rules of the game to allow witnesses to stretch a point +or two in favour of the defence where the social honour of highly +respectable families was involved. + +Sir Herbert saw in the present defence the fact that the hand of his +venerable friend, Mr. Oakham, had not lost its cunning. Mr. Oakham was a +very respectable solicitor, acting for a very respectable client, and he +had called a very respectable Harley Street specialist--who, by a most +fortuitous circumstance, had been staying at the same hotel as the +accused shortly before the murder was committed--to convince the jury +that the young man was insane, and that his form of insanity was +epilepsy, a disease which had prolonged lucid intervals. + +A truly ingenious and eminently respectable defence, and one which, in +his heart of hearts, perhaps, Sir Herbert might not have been sorry to +see succeed, for he knew Sir James Penreath of Twelvetrees, and was +sorry to see his son in such a position. But he had his duty to perform, +and that duty was to discredit in the eyes of the jury the evidence of +the witness in the box, because juries were prone to look upon +specialists as men to whom all things had been revealed, and return a +verdict accordingly. + +Sir Herbert made one mistake in his analysis of the defence. Sir Henry, +at least, believed in his own evidence and took himself very seriously +as a specialist. Like most stupid men who have got somewhere in +life, Sir Henry became self-assertive under the least semblance +of contradiction, and he grew violent and red-faced under +cross-examination. He would not hear of the possibility of a mistake in +his diagnosis of the accused's symptoms, but insisted that the accused, +when he saw him at the Durrington hotel, was suffering from an epileptic +seizure, combined with _furor epilepticus_, and was in a state of mind +which made him a menace to his fellow creatures. It was true he +qualified his statements with the words "so far as my observation goes," +but the qualification was given in a manner which suggested to the jury +that five minutes of Sir Henry Durwood's observation were worth a +month's of a dozen ordinary medical men. + +Sir Henry's vehement insistence on his infallibility struck Sir Herbert +as a flagrant violation of the rules of the game. He did not accept the +protestations as genuine; he thought Sir Henry was overdoing his part, +and playing to the gallery. He grew nettled in his turn, and, with a +sudden access of vigour in his tone, said: + +"You told my learned friend that it is quite consistent with the +prisoner's malady that he could have committed the crime with which he +stands charged, and remember nothing about it afterwards. Is that a +fact?" + +"Certainly." + +"In that case, will you kindly explain how the prisoner came to leave +the inn hurriedly, before anybody was up, the morning after the murder +was committed? Why should he run away if he had no recollection of his +act?" + +"I must object to my learned friend describing the accused's departure +from the inn as 'running away,'" said Mr. Middleheath, with a bland +smile of protest. "It is highly improper, as nobody knows better than +the Crown Prosecutor, and calculated to convey an altogether erroneous +impression on the minds of the jury. There is not the slightest evidence +to support such a statement. The evidence is that he saw the servant and +paid his bill before departure. That is not running away." + +"Very well, I will say hastened away," replied Sir Herbert impatiently. +"Why should the accused hasten away from the inn if he retained no +recollection of the events of the night?" + +"He may have had a hazy recollection," replied Sir Henry. "Not of the +act itself, but of strange events happening to him in the +night--something like a bad dream, but more vivid. He may have found +something unusual--such as wet clothes or muddy boots--for which he +could not account. Then he would begin to wonder, and then perhaps there +would come a hazy recollection of some trivial detail. Then, as he came +to himself, he would begin to grow alarmed, and his impulse, as his +normal mind returned to him, would be to leave the place where he was as +soon as he could. This restlessness is a characteristic of epilepsy. In +my opinion, it was this vague alarm, on finding himself in a position +for which he could not account, which was the cause of the accused +leaving the Durrington hotel. His last recollection, as he told me at +the time, was entering the breakfast-room; he came to his senses in his +bedroom, with strangers in the room." + +"Does not recollection return completely in attacks of petit mal?" + +"Sometimes it does; sometimes not. I remember a case in my student days +where an epileptic violently assaulted a man in the street--almost +murdered him in fact--then assaulted a man who tried to detain him, ran +away, and remembered nothing about it afterwards." + +"Is it consistent with petit mal, combined with _furor epilepticus_, for +a man to commit murder, conceal the body of his victim, and remember +nothing about it afterwards?" + +"Quite consistent, though the probability is, as I said before, for him +to have some hazy recollection when he came to his senses, which would +lead to his leaving that place as quickly as he could." + +"Would it be consistent with petit mal for a man to take a weapon away +beforehand, and then, during a sudden fit of petit mal, use it upon the +unfortunate victim?" + +"If he took the weapon for another purpose, it is quite possible that he +might use it afterwards." + +"I should like to have that a little clearer," said the judge, +interposing. "Do you mean to get the weapon for another, possibly quite +innocent purpose, and then use it for an act of violence?" + +"Yes, my lord," replied Sir Henry. "That is quite consistent with an +attack of petit mal." + +"When a man has periodical attacks of petit mal, would it not be +possible, by observation of him between the attacks, or when he was +suffering from the attacks, to tell whether he had a tendency to them?" + +"No, only in a very few and exceptional cases." + +"In your opinion epilepsy is an hereditary disease?" + +"Undoubtedly." + +"Are you aware that certain eminent French specialists, including Marie, +are of the opinion that hereditary influences play a very small part in +epilepsy?" + +"That may be." Sir Henry dismissed the views of the French specialists +with a condescending wave of his fat white hand. + +"That does not alter your own opinion?" + +"Certainly not." + +"And do you say that because this man's mother suffered from epilepsy +the chances are that he is suffering from it?" + +"Pardon me, I said nothing of the kind. I think the chances are that he +would have a highly organised nervous system, and would probably suffer +from some nervous disease. In the case of the prisoner, I should say +that shell-shock increased his predisposition to epilepsy." + +"Do you suggest that shell-shock leads to epilepsy?" + +"In general, no; in this particular case, possibly. A man may have +shell-shock, and injury to the brain, which is not necessarily +epileptic." + +"It is possible for shell-shock alone to lead to a subsequent attack of +insanity?" asked the judge. + +"It is possible--certainly." + +"How often do these attacks of petit mal occur?" asked Sir Herbert. + +"They vary considerably according to the patient--sometimes once a week, +sometimes monthly, and there have been cases in which the attacks are +separated by months." + +"Are not two attacks in twenty-four hours unprecedented?" + +"Unusual, but not unprecedented. The excitement of going from one place +to another, and walking miles to get there, would be a predisposing +factor. Prisoner would have been suffering from the effects of the first +attack when he left the Durrington hotel, and the excitement of the +change and the fatigue of walking all day would have been very +prejudicial to him, and account for the second and more violent attack." + +"How long do the after effects last--of an attack of petit mal, I mean." + +"It depends on the violence of the attack. Sometimes as long as five or +six hours. The recovery is generally attended with general lassitude." + +"There is no evidence to show that the prisoner displayed any symptoms +of epilepsy before the attack which you witnessed at the Durrington +hotel. Is it not unusual for a person to reach the age of twenty-eight +or thereabouts without showing any previous signs of a disease like +epilepsy?" + +"There must be a first attack--that goes without saying," interposed the +judge testily. + +That concluded the cross-examination. Mr. Middleheath, in +re-examination, asked Sir Henry whether foam at the lips was a +distinguishing mark of epilepsy. + +"It generally indicates an epileptic tendency," replied Sir Henry +Durwood. + +At the conclusion of Sir Henry Durwood's evidence Mr. Middleheath called +an official from the War Office to prove formally that Lieutenant James +Penreath had been discharged from His Majesty's forces suffering from +shell-shock. + +"I understand that, prior to the illness which terminated his military +career, Lieutenant Penreath had won a reputation as an exceedingly +gallant soldier, and had been awarded the D.S.O," said Mr. Middleheath. + +"That is so," replied the witness. + +"Is that the case?" asked the judge. + +"That, my lord, is the case," replied Mr. Middleheath. + +Sir Herbert Templewood, on behalf of the Crown, proceeded to call +rebutting medical evidence to support the Crown contention that the +accused was sane and aware of the nature of his acts. The first witness +was Dr. Henry Manton, of Heathfield, who said he saw the accused when he +was brought into the station from Flegne by Police Constable Queensmead. +He seemed perfectly rational, though disinclined to talk. + +"Did you find any symptom upon him which pointed to his having recently +suffered from epilepsy of any kind?" asked Sir Herbert. + +"No." + +"Do you agree with Sir Henry Durwood that between attacks of epilepsy +the patient would exhibit no signs of the disease?" asked Mr. +Middleheath. + +"What do you mean by between the attacks?" + +"I mean when he had completely recovered from one fit and before the +next came on," explained counsel. + +"I quite agree with that," replied the witness. + +"How long does it usually take for a man to recover from an attack of +epilepsy?" + +"It depends on the severity of the attack." + +"Well, take an attack serious enough to cause a man to commit murder." + +"It may take hours--five or six hours. He would certainly be drowsy and +heavy for three or four hours afterwards." + +"But not longer--he would not show symptoms for thirty-six hours?" + +"Certainly not." + +"Then, may I take it from you, doctor, that after the five or six hours +recovery after a bad attack an epileptic might show no signs of the +disease--not even to medical eyes--till the next attack?" + +"I should say so," replied the witness. "But I am not an authority on +mental diseases." + +"Thank you." + +The next witness was Dr. Gilbert Horbury, who described himself as +medical officer of His Majesty's prison, Norwich, and formerly medical +officer of the London detention prison. In reply to Sir Herbert +Templewood, he said he had had much experience in cases of insanity and +alleged insanity. He had had the accused in the present case under +observation since the time he had been brought to the gaol. He was very +taciturn, but he was quiet and gentlemanly in his behaviour. His +temperature and pulse were normal, but he slept badly, and twice he +complained of pains in the head. Witness attributed the pains in the +head to the effect of shell-shock. He had seen no signs which suggested, +to his mind, that prisoner was an epileptic. In reply to a direct +question by Sir Herbert Templewood, he expressed his deliberate +professional opinion that the accused was not suffering from epilepsy in +any form. Epilepsy did not start off with a bad attack ending in +violence--or murder. There were premonitory symptoms and slight attacks +extending over a considerable period, which must have manifested +themselves, particularly in the case of a man who had been through an +arduous military campaign. His illness might have had a bad effect on +the brain, but if it had led to mental disease he would have expected it +to show itself before. + +From this point of view the witness, a dour, grey figure of a man, +refused to be driven by cross-examination. His many professional years +within the sordid atmosphere of gaol walls had taught him that most +criminals were malingerers by instinct, and that pretended insanity was +the commonest form of their imposition to evade the consequence of +their misdeeds. The number of false cases which had passed through his +hands had led him to the very human conclusion that all such defences +were merely efforts to defraud the law, and, as a zealous officer of the +law, he took a righteous satisfaction in discomfiting them, particularly +when--as in the present instance--the defence was used to shield an +accused of some social standing. For Dr. Horbury's political tendencies +were levelling and iconoclastic, and he had a deep contempt for caste, +titles, and monarchs. + +He was too sophisticated as a witness to walk into Mr. Middleheath's +trap and contradict Sir Henry's evidence directly, but he contrived to +convey the impression that his own observation of accused, covering a +period of nine days, was a better guide for the jury in arriving at a +conclusion as to the accused's state of mind than Sir Henry's opinion, +formed after a single and limited opportunity of diagnosing the case. He +also managed to infer, in a gentlemanly professional way, that Sir Henry +Durwood was deservedly eminent in the medical world as a nerve +specialist, rather than as a mental specialist, whereas witness's own +experience in mental cases had been very wide. He talked learnedly of +the difficulty of diagnosing epilepsy except after prolonged +observation, and cited lengthily from big books, which a court constable +brought into court one by one, on symptoms, reflex causes, auras, grand +mal, petit mal, Jacksonian epilepsy, and the like. + +The only admission of any value that Mr. Middleheath could extract from +Dr. Horbury was a statement that while he had seen no symptoms in the +prisoner to suggest that he was an epileptic, epileptics did not, as a +rule, show symptoms of the disease between the attack. + +"Therefore, assuming the fact that Penreath is subject to epilepsy, you +would not necessarily expect to find any symptoms of the disease during +the time he was awaiting trial?" asked Mr. Middleheath, eagerly +following up the opening. + +"Possibly nothing that one could swear to," rejoined the witness, in an +exceedingly dry tone. + +Mr. Middleheath essayed no more questions, but got the witness out of +the box as quickly as possible, trusting to his own address to remove +the effect of the evidence on the mind of the jury. At the outset of +that address he pointed out that the case for the Crown rested upon +purely circumstantial evidence, and that nobody had seen the prisoner +commit the murder with which he was charged. The main portion of his +remarks was directed to convincing the jury that the prisoner was the +unhappy victim of epileptic attacks, in which he was not responsible for +his actions. He scouted the theory of motive, as put forward by the +Crown. It was not fair to suggest that the Treasury note which the +accused paid to the servant at the inn was necessarily part of the dead +man's money which had disappeared on the night of the murder and had not +since been recovered. The fact that the accused had been turned out of +the Grand Hotel, for not paying his hotel bill, was put forward by the +Crown to show that he was in a penniless condition, but that assumption +went too far. It might well be that a man in the accused's social +standing would have a pound or two in his pocket, although he might not +be able to meet an hotel bill of £30. + +"Can you conceive this young man, this gallant soldier, this heir to an +old and honourable name, with everything in life to look forward to, +committing an atrocious murder for £300?" continued Mr. Middleheath. +"The traditions of his name and race, his upbringing, his recent gallant +career as a soldier, alike forbid the sordid possibility. Moreover, he +had no need to commit a crime to obtain money. His father, his friends, +or the woman who was to be his wife, would have instantly supplied him +with the money he needed, if they had known he was in want. To a young +man in his station of life £300 is a comparatively small sum. Is it +likely that he would have committed murder to obtain it?" + +"On the other hand, the prisoner's actions, since returning to England, +strongly suggest that his mind has been giving way for some time past. +He was invalided from the Army suffering from shell-shock, with the +result that his constitution became weakened, and the fatal taint of +inherited epilepsy, which was in his blood, began to manifest itself. +His family doctor and his fiancée have told you that his behaviour was +strange before he left for Norfolk; since coming to Norfolk it has been +unmistakably that of a man who is no longer sane. Was it the conduct of +a sane man to conceal his whereabouts from his friends, and stay at an +hotel without money till he was turned out, when he might have had +plenty of money, or at all events saved himself the humiliation of being +turned out of the hotel, at the cost of a telegram? And why did he +subsequently go miles across country to a remote and wretched inn, where +he had never been before, and beg for a bed for the night? Were these +the acts of a sane man?" + +In his peroration Mr. Middleheath laid particular emphasis on the +evidence of Sir Henry Durwood, whose name was known throughout England +as one of the most eminent specialists of his day. Sir Henry Durwood, +Mr. Middleheath pointed out, had seen the prisoner in a fit at the +Durrington hotel, and he emphatically declared that the accused was an +epileptic, with homicidal tendencies. Such an opinion, coming from such +a quarter, was, to Mr. Middleheath's mind, incontrovertible proof of +the prisoner's insanity, and he did not see how the jury could go behind +it in coming to a decision. + +Sir Herbert Templewood's address consisted of a dry marshalling of the +facts for and against the theory of insanity. Sir Herbert contended that +the defence had failed to establish their contention that the accused +man was not in his right mind. He impressed upon the jury the decided +opinion of Dr. Horbury, who, as doctor of the metropolitan receiving +gaol, had probably a wider experience of epilepsy and insanity than any +specialist in the world. Dr. Horbury, after nine days close observation +of the accused, had come to the conclusion that he was perfectly sane +and responsible for his actions. + +The general opinion among the bunch of legal wigs which gathered +together at the barristers' table as Sir Herbert Templewood resumed his +seat was that the issue had been very closely fought on both sides, and +that the verdict would depend largely upon the way the judge summed up. + +His lordship commenced his summing up by informing the jury that in the +first place they must be satisfied that the prisoner was the person who +killed Mr. Glenthorpe. He did not think they would have much difficulty +on that head, because, although the evidence was purely circumstantial, +it pointed strongly to the accused, and the defence had not seriously +contested the charge. Therefore, if they were satisfied that the accused +did, in fact, cause the death of Mr. Glenthorpe, the only question that +remained for them to decide was the state of the prisoner's mind at the +time. If they were satisfied that he was not insane at the time, they +must find him guilty of murder. If, however, they came to the conclusion +that he was insane at the time he committed the act, they would return +a verdict that he was guilty of the act charged against him, but that he +was insane at the time. + +His lordship painstakingly defined the difference between sanity and +insanity in the eyes of the law, but though his precise and legal +definition called forth appreciative glances from the lawyers below him, +it is doubtful whether the jury were much wiser for the explanation. +After reviewing the evidence for the prosecution at considerable length, +his lordship then proceeded, with judicial impartiality, to state the +case for the defence. The case for the prisoner, he said, was that he +had been strange or eccentric ever since he returned from the front +suffering from shell-shock, that his eccentricity deepened into +homicidal insanity, and that he committed the act of which he stood +charged while suffering under an attack of epilepsy, which produced a +state of mind that led the sufferer to commit an act of violence without +understanding what he was doing. In view of the nature of this defence +the jury were bound to look into the prisoner's family and hereditary +history, and into his own acts before the murder, before coming to a +conclusion as to his state of mind. + +The defence, he thought, had proved sufficient to enable the jury to +draw the conclusion that Lady Penreath, the mother of the prisoner, was +an epileptic. The assertion that the prisoner was an epileptic rested +upon the evidence of Sir Henry Durwood, for the evidence of Miss +Willoughby and the family doctor went no further than to suggest a +slight strangeness or departure from the prisoner's usual demeanour. Sir +Henry Durwood, by reason of his professional standing, was entitled to +be received with respect, but he had himself admitted that he had had no +previous opportunity of diagnosing the case of accused, and that it was +difficult to form an exact opinion in a disease like epilepsy. Dr. +Horbury, on the other hand, had declared that the prisoner showed +nothing symptomatic of epilepsy while awaiting remand. In Dr. Horbury's +opinion, he was not an epileptic. Therefore the case resolved itself +into a direct conflict of medical testimony, and it was for the jury to +decide, and form a conclusion as to the man's state of mind in +conjunction with the other evidence. + +"The contention for the defence," continued his lordship, leaning +forward and punctuating his words with sharp taps of his fountain pen on +the desk in front of him, "is this: 'Look at this case fairly and +clearly, and you are bound to come to the conclusion that this man is +not in a sound frame of mind.' The prosecution, on the other hand, say, +'The facts of this case do not point to insanity at all, but to +deliberate murder for gain.' The defence urge further, 'You have got to +look at the probabilities. No man in prisoner's position, a gentleman by +birth and upbringing, the heir of an old and proud name, with a hitherto +unblemished reputation, and the prospects of a long and not +inconspicuous career in front of him, would in his senses have murdered +this old man.' That is a matter for you to consider, because we do know +that brutal crimes are committed by the most unlikely persons. But the +prosecution also allege motive, and you must consider the question of +motive. It is suggested, and it is for you to consider whether rightly +or wrongly suggested, that there was a motive in killing this man, +because the prisoner was absolutely penniless and wanted to get money." + +"Gentlemen, you will first apply your minds to considering all the +evidence, and you will next consider whether you are satisfied that the +prisoner knew the difference between right and wrong so far as the act +with which he is charged is concerned. You must decide whether he knew +the nature and quality of the act, and whether he knew the difference +between that act being right, and that act being wrong. I have already +pointed out to you that the law presumes him to be of sane mind, and +able to distinguish between right and wrong, and it is for him to +satisfy you, if he is to escape responsibility for this act, that he +could not tell whether it was right or wrong. If you are satisfied of +that, you ought to say that he is guilty of the act alleged, but insane +at the time it was committed. If you are not satisfied on that point, +then it is your duty to find him guilty of murder. Gentlemen, you will +kindly retire and consider your verdict." + +The jury retired, and there ensued a period of tension, which the +lawyers employed in discussing the technicalities of the case and the +probabilities of an acquittal. Mr. Oakham thought an acquittal was a +certainty, but Mr. Middleheath, with a deeper knowledge of the ways of +provincial juries, declared that the defence would have stood a better +chance of success before a London jury, because Londoners had more +imagination than other Englishmen. + +"You never can tell how a d----d muddle-headed country jury will decide +a highly technical case like this," said the K.C. peevishly. "I've lost +stronger cases than this before a Norfolk jury. Norfolk men are +clannish, and Horbury's evidence carried weight. He is a Norfolk man, +though he has been in London. One never knows, of course. If the jury +remain out over an hour I think we will pull it off." + +But the jury returned into court after an absence of forty minutes. The +judge, who was waiting in his private room, was informed, and he entered +the court and resumed his seat. The jury answered to their names, and +then the Clerk of Arraigns, in a sing-song voice, said: + +"Gentlemen, have you agreed upon your verdict? Do you find the prisoner +guilty or not guilty of wilful murder?" + +"Guilty!" answered the foreman, in a loud, clear voice. + +"You say that he is guilty of murder, and that is the verdict of you +all?" + +"That is the verdict of us all," was the response. + +"James Ronald Penreath," continued the clerk, turning to the accused +man, and speaking in the same sing-song tones of one who repeated a +formula by rote, "you stand convicted of the crime of wilful murder. +Have you anything to say for yourself why the Court should not give you +judgment of death according to law?" + +The man in the dock, who had turned very pale, merely shook his head. + +The judge, with expressionless face and in an expressionless voice, +pronounced sentence of death. + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +Colwyn returned to Durrington in a perplexed and dissatisfied frame of +mind. The trial, which he had attended and followed closely, had failed +to convince him that all the facts concerning the death of Roger +Glenthorpe had been brought to light. Really, the trial had not been a +trial at all, but merely a battle of lawyers about the state of +Penreath's mind. + +If Penreath was really sane--and Colwyn, who had watched him closely +during the trial, believed that he was--the Crown theory of the murder +by no means accounted for all the amazing facts of the case. + +Should he have done more? Colwyn asked himself this question again and +again. But that query always led to another one--_Could_ he have done +more? In his mental probings the detective could rarely get away from +the point--and when he did get away from it he always returned to +it--that Penreath, by his dogged silence, had been largely responsible +for his own conviction. If a man, charged with murder, refused to +account for actions which pointed to him as the murderer, how could +anybody help him? Silence, in certain circumstances, was the strongest +presumptive proof of guilt. A man was the best judge of his own actions +and, if he refused to speak when his own life might pay the forfeit for +silence, he must have the strongest possible reason for holding his +tongue. What other reason could Penreath have except the consciousness +of guilt, and the hope of escaping the consequences through a loop-hole +of the law? + +Colwyn, however, was unable to accept this line of argument as +conclusive, so he tried to put the case out of his mind. But the +unsolved points of the mystery--the points that he himself had +discovered during his visit to the inn--kept returning to his mind at +all sorts of odd times, in the night, and during his walks. And each +recurrence was accompanied by the consciousness that he had not done his +best in the case, but had allowed the silence of the accused man to +influence his judgment and slacken his efforts to unravel the clues he +had originally discovered. Thus he travelled back to his starting-point, +that the conviction of Penreath had not solved the mystery of the murder +of Roger Glenthorpe. + +The hotel and its guests bored him. The season was over, and the few +people who remained were elderly and commonplace, prone to overeating, +and to falling asleep round the lounge fire after dinner. The only +topics of conversation were the weather, the war, and food. Sometimes +the elderly clergyman, who still lingered, though the other golfers had +gone, sought to turn the conversation to golf, but nobody listened to +him except his wife, who sat opposite to him in the warmest part of the +lounge placidly knitting socks for the War Comforts Fund. The Flegne +murder and its result were not discussed; by tacit mutual understanding +the guests never referred to the unpleasant fact that they had lived for +some weeks under the same roof with a man who had since been declared a +murderer by the laws of his country. + +Colwyn decided to return to London, although the month he had allowed +himself for a holiday was not completed. He was restless and uneasy and +bored, and he thought that immersion in work would help him to forget +the Glenthorpe case. He came to this decision at breakfast one morning. +Within an hour he had paid his bill, received the polite regrets of the +proprietor at his departure, and was motoring leisurely southward along +the cliff road towards its junction with the main London road. + +Important consequences frequently spring from trifling incidents. +Colwyn, turning his car to the side of the road to avoid a flock of +sheep, punctured a tyre on a sharp jagged piece of rock concealed in the +loose sand at the side of the road. He had not a spare tyre on the car, +and the shepherd informed him that the nearest town where he could hope +to get the tyre replaced was Faircroft, but even that was doubtful, +because Faircroft was a small town without a garage, and the one +tradesman who did motor-car repairs was, just as likely as not, without +the right kind of tyres, or equally likely to have none at all. As he +had left Durrington barely three miles behind Colwyn decided to return +there, to have the car repaired, and defer his departure till the +following day. + +He reached Durrington with a deflated tyre, took the car to the garage, +and then went back to the hotel. It wanted nearly an hour to lunch-time, +and on his way in he paused at the office window to inform the clerk +that he had returned, and would stay till the following day. The +proprietor was in the office, checking some figures. The latter looked +up as Colwyn informed the lady clerk of his altered plans, and informed +him that a young lady had been at the hotel inquiring for him shortly +after his departure. + +"What was her name?" asked the detective, in some surprise. + +"She didn't give her name. She seemed very disappointed when she learnt +that you had departed for London, and went away at once." + +"What was she like?" + +The proprietor and the lady clerk described her at the same time. In the +former's eyes the visitor had appeared pretty and young with golden hair +and a very clear complexion. The lady clerk, without the least departure +from the standard of courtesy imposed upon her by her position, managed +to indicate that the impression made upon her feminine mind was that of +a white-faced girl with red hair. From both descriptions Colwyn had no +difficulty in identifying the visitor as Peggy. + +Why had she come to Durrington to see him? Obviously the visit was +connected with the murder at the inn. Colwyn recalled his last +conversation with her on the marshes the day after he had seen her come +out of the dead man's room. + +He hurried out in the hope of finding her. She had probably come by +train from Leyland, and would go back the same way. Colwyn looked at his +watch. It was a quarter past twelve, and there was no train back to +Leyland till half-past one--so much Colwyn remembered from his study of +the local time-table. Therefore, unless she had walked back to Flegne +she should not be difficult to find--probably she was somewhere on the +cliffs, or near the sea. Somehow, Peggy seemed to belong to the sea and +Nature. It was difficult to picture her in a conventional setting. + +It was by the sea that he found her, sitting in one of the shelters on +the parade, with her hands clasped in her lap, looking listlessly at a +fisher-boat putting out from the yellow sands below. She glanced round +at the sound of his footsteps, and, seeing who it was, came out from the +shelter and advanced to meet him. + +"They told me at the hotel somebody had been asking for me, and I +guessed it was you. You wanted to see me?" + +"Yes." She did not express any surprise at his return, as another girl +would, but stood with her hands still clasped in front of her, and a +look of entreaty in her eyes. Colwyn noticed that her face had grown +thinner, and that in the depths of her glance there lurked a troubled +shadow. + +"Shall we walk a little and you can tell me what you wish to say?" + +"It is very kind of you." + +He turned away from the front and towards the cliffs, judging that the +girl would feel more disposed to talk freely away from human habitation +and people. They went on for some distance in silence, the girl walking +with a light quick step, looking straight in front of her, as though +immersed in thought. + +They reached a part of the cliffs where a low wall divided the foreland +from an old churchyard which was fast crumbling into the sea. Peggy +paused with her hand on the wall, and looked seaward. The sun, piercing +a rift in the dark clouds, lighted the sullen grey waters with patches +of gold. Colwyn, in the hope of inducing his companion to talk, pointed +out the beautiful effect of the light and shadow on the sea. + +"I hate the sea! I have never looked at it since the war started without +seeing the many, many dead sailor boys at the bottom, staring up with +their dead eyes through the weight of waters for a God of Justice in the +heavens, and looking in vain." She turned her eyes from the sea, and +looked at him passionately. "You do not care about the sea, either. You +are only trying to put me at my ease--to help me say what I want to +say. It is kind of you, but it is not necessary. I feel I can trust +you--I must trust you. I am only a girl and there is nobody else in the +world I dare trust. It is about--_him_. Have you seen him? Have you +spoken to him? Did he speak about me?" + +"I saw him only at the trial," replied Colwyn, with his ready +comprehension. "I had no opportunity of speaking to him alone." + +"I read about the trial in the paper," she went on. "They said that he +was mad in order to try and save him, but he is not mad--he was too good +and kind to be mad. Oh, why did he kill Mr. Glenthorpe? Will they kill +him for that? You are clever, can you not save him? I have come to beg +you to save him. Ever since they took him away I have seen his eyes +wherever I go, looking at me reproachfully, as though calling upon me to +save him. Last night, while I was in my grandmother's room, I thought I +saw him standing there, and heard his voice, just as he used to speak. +And in the night I woke up and thought I heard him whisper, 'Peggy, it +is better to tell the truth.' This morning I could endure it no longer, +and I came across to find you." + +"You have known him before, then?" + +"Yes." The girl met Colwyn's grave glance with clear, unafraid eyes. "I +did not tell you before, not because I was afraid to trust you, for I +liked you from the first, but I was afraid that if I told you all you +would think him guilty, and not try to help him. And when you spoke to +me on the marshes that day you believed he might be innocent." + +"How do you know that?" + +"I heard you say so to that police officer--Superintendent +Galloway--after dinner the first night you were at Flegne. I was passing +the bar parlour when you and he were talking about the murder, and I +heard you say that you thought somebody else might have done it. The day +after, when you saw me on the marshes, I was frightened to tell you the +truth, because I thought if you knew it you might go away and not try to +save him." + +"You had better tell the whole truth to me now. Nothing you can now say +will make it worse for Penreath, and it may be possible to help him. +When did you first meet him?" + +"Nearly three weeks before--it happened. I used to go out for long +walks, when I could get away from grandmother, and this day I walked +nearly as far as Leyland. He came walking along the sands a little while +afterwards, and he looked at me as he passed. Presently he came back +again, and stopped to ask me if there was a shorter way back to +Durrington than by the coast road. I told him I didn't know, and he +stopped to talk to me for a while. He told me he was in Norfolk for a +holiday, and was spending the time in country rambles. + +"I will tell you the whole truth. I returned to the headland next day in +the hope that I might see him again. After I had been there a little +while I saw him walking along the sands. He waved his hand when he saw +me, as though we had been old friends, and that afternoon we stayed +talking much longer. + +"I saw him nearly every afternoon after that--whenever I could get away +I walked down to the headland, and he was always there. The spot where +we used to meet was hidden from the road by some fir-trees, and I do not +think we were ever seen by anybody. He told me all about himself, but I +did not tell him anything about myself or my home. I knew he was a +gentleman, and I thought if I told him that my father kept an inn he +might not want to see me any more, and I could not bear that. I told +him my Christian name, and he liked it, and used to call me by it, but I +would not tell him my other name. + +"The night that he came to the inn I met him in the afternoon at the +headland as usual, and we stayed talking until it was time for me to go +home. He was very troubled that day, and it grieved me to see him +looking so white and ill. When I questioned him he told me that he had +been slightly ill that morning, and that he was very much worried about +money matters. I felt very unhappy to think that he was troubled about +money, and when he saw that he said he was sorry he had told me. + +"When I left him it was later than usual. I was supposed to look after +my grandmother every afternoon, and when I went to the headland I +usually got Ann to sit in her room until I returned. I was always +careful to get back before my father came in from fishing on the +marshes. He would have been very angry if he had returned and found me +absent, and I should not have been able to get out again. It was nearly +four that afternoon when I left the headland, and I walked very quick so +as to be back in time. It was getting on towards dusk when I reached +home. + +"I went straight up to my grandmother's room, so that Ann could go down +and get dinner for Mr. Glenthorpe, who usually came in about dark. I sat +with grandmother till past six o'clock, and then, as Ann hadn't brought +grandmother's tea, I went down to the kitchen to get it myself. Ann was +very busy getting dinner, and she told me a young gentleman had arrived +at the inn half an hour before, and he was going to dine upstairs with +Mr. Glenthorpe, and stay for the night. I was surprised, for we rarely +had visitors at the inn. I asked Ann some questions about him, but she +could tell me very little. Charles, the waiter, came into the kitchen to +get the things ready to take upstairs, and he told me that the visitor +was young, good-looking, and seemed a gentleman. + +"I got grandmother's tea ready, and was carrying it along the passage +from the kitchen when I fancied I heard Mr. Penreath's voice in the bar +parlour. I thought at first that I must be mistaken; then the door of +the parlour opened, and Mr. Glenthorpe and Mr. Penreath came out. I was +so surprised and frightened that I almost dropped the tray I was +carrying. If they had looked down the side passage they would have seen +me. But he and Mr. Glenthorpe turned the other way, and went upstairs. +Then Charles came along carrying a dinner tray, and went upstairs also. +I knew then that Mr. Penreath was the gentleman who was going to dine +with Mr. Glenthorpe, and stay the night. + +"I did not know what to do. I took grandmother's tea upstairs, and crept +past the room where they were having dinner, because I did not want him +to see me till I had made up my mind what to do. The door was shut, and +they couldn't see me, though I could hear them talking inside. When I +got to my grandmother's room I tried to think what was best to do. My +first thought was that he had found out who I was. Then it seemed to me +that he might have come by accident, in some way that I didn't +understand, because why should he dine with Mr. Glenthorpe, and stay +with him, if he had come to see me? Then I wondered if it were possible +that he knew Mr. Glenthorpe, who was a gentleman like himself, and had +come to ask him to help him. I had never told him anything about Mr. +Glenthorpe or myself. + +"I determined to try and see him that night to let him know that the inn +was my home. If he had come to the inn by accident it was better that he +should not meet me in front of my father, because in his surprise he +might say that he had met me before. My father would have been very +angry if he knew I had been meeting a stranger. So I went along the +passage several times in the hope of seeing him as he came from dinner. +But once my father was going into the room where they were having +dinner, and he nearly saw me, so I dared not go again. + +"A little after ten o'clock my grandmother began to get restless, as she +always does when a storm is coming on, and I had to stay with her to +keep her quiet. I can do more with her than anybody else when she is +like that, and it is not safe to leave her. Sometimes my father goes and +sits with her a while before he goes to bed, but this night he did not. +She got very bad as the storm came on, and while it lasted I sat +alongside of her holding her hand and soothing her. After about half an +hour the rain ceased as suddenly as it had commenced, and grandmother +fell asleep. I knew she was all right until the morning, so I left her +for the night. + +"As I turned to go to my room, I thought I saw a light in the other +passage, and I went down to see what it was. I thought perhaps Mr. +Penreath might be waiting up reading before going to bed. + +"I crept along to the bend of the passage, and looked down it, thinking +perhaps I might see him and speak to him. There was nobody in the +passage, but the door of Mr. Glenthorpe's room was half open and a light +was streaming through it. + +"I do not know really what took me to Mr. Glenthorpe's room. I have +tried to think it out clearly since, but I cannot. I know I was +distressed and troubled about Mr. Penreath's presence at the inn, and I +was afraid he would be cross and angry with me for not having told him +the truth about myself. And before that, when I was walking home after +meeting him that afternoon, I had been unhappy about his wanting money, +and wished that I could do something to help him. These thoughts kept +going through my head as I sat with grandmother during the storm. + +"When I saw the door of Mr. Glenthorpe's room open, and the light +burning, all these thoughts seemed to come back into my head together. I +remembered how good and kind Mr. Glenthorpe had always been to me. I had +heard my father tell Charles that morning that Mr. Glenthorpe had gone +to the bank at Heathfield that day to draw out a large sum of money to +buy Mr. Cranley's field. + +"I think I had a confused idea that I would go and confide in Mr. +Glenthorpe, and ask him to help Mr. Penreath. Perhaps I have not made +myself very clear about this, but I do not remember very clearly myself, +for I acted on a sudden impulse, and ran along the passage quickly, in +case he should shut his door before I got there, because I knew if he +did that I should not have the courage to knock. Through the half-open +door I could see the inside of the room between the door and the window. +It seemed to me to be empty. I gave a little tap at the door, but there +was no reply. It was then I noticed that the bedroom window was wide +open, and that a current of air was blowing into the room and causing +the light behind the door to cast flickering shadows across the room. + +"That struck me as strange. I knew Mr. Glenthorpe always used a reading +lamp, and never a candle, and I knew that the reading lamp wouldn't +cast shadows because of the lamp glass. I do not know what I feared, but +I know a dreadful shiver of fear crept over me, and that some force +stronger than myself seemed to compel me to step inside the room in +spite of my fears." + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + + +"He was lying on the bed, quite dead. There was blood on his breast, and +his hands were held out, as though he had tried to push off the man who +had killed him. On the table, by the head of the bed, was a lighted +candle, and it was the light of the candle which had cast the flickering +shadows I had seen before entering the room. On the bed, near the +pillow, was a match-box, and I remember picking it up and placing it in +the candlestick--mechanically, for I am sure I did not know what I was +doing, and I did not recall the act till afterwards. I have a clearer +recollection of touching something with my foot, and stooping to pick it +up. It was a knife--a white handled knife, with blood on the blade. And +as I stood there, with it in my hand, there came to my mind, clear and +distinct, the memory of having seen that knife on the dinner tray +Charles had carried past me upstairs, as I stood in the passage near the +kitchen, where I first discovered that Mr. Penreath was in the house. + +"I do not know how long I stood there, with the knife in my hand, +looking at the body--perhaps it was not more than a moment. There seemed +to be two individualities in me, one urging me to fly, the other keeping +me rooted to the spot, petrified. + +"Then I heard a sound downstairs. A wild panic came over me, and my head +grew dizzy. The shadows in the corners of the room seemed full of +mocking eyes, and I thought I heard stealthy steps creeping up the +stairs. I dared not stay where I was, but I was too afraid to go out +into the passage in the dark. Then my eyes fell on the candle, and I +picked it up and was going to rush from the room, when I remembered that +I had the knife in my hand. + +"I did not know what to do with it. I wanted to shield him, but some +feeling within me would not let me carry it away. I looked round the +room for somewhere to hide it, and my eye fell on a picture against the +wall, close to the door. Quick as thought I put the knife behind the +picture as I ran from the room. + +"There was nobody in the passage, and I gained my own room and locked +the door. I think I must have fainted, or become unconscious, for I +remember nothing more after throwing myself on my bed, and when I came +to my senses the dawn was creeping in through my bedroom window. I was +very cold, and dazed. I crept into bed without taking off my clothes, +and fell asleep. When I awoke it was broad daylight, and as I lay in bed +I heard the kitchen clock chime seven. + +"I got up, and went into grandmother's room. A little while afterwards +Ann came up with some tea, and she told me that Mr. Penreath had gone +away early, without having any breakfast. She told me that she had found +Mr. Glenthorpe's room empty, with the key in the outside of the door. +She was afraid something had happened to him, so she had sent for +Constable Queensmead. I did not tell her what I had seen in the night. I +wanted to be alone, to think. I could not understand how Mr. +Glenthorpe's body had disappeared from his room. I think I hoped that I +would presently wake up and find that what I had seen during the night +was some terrible dream. But Ann came up a little later and told me that +Mr. Glenthorpe's body had been discovered in the pit on the rise, and +that Mr. Ronald, as she called Mr. Penreath, was suspected of having +murdered him. + +"When she told me that I felt as though my blood turned to ice. I knew +it was true--I knew that he had killed Mr. Glenthorpe because he wanted +money--but I knew that in spite of all I wanted to shield and help him. +I kept in my grandmother's room all day, determined to keep silence, and +tell nobody about what I had seen during the night. The one thing that +worried me was the knife which I had put behind the picture on the wall. +I tried once to go into the room and get it, but the door was locked, +and I dared not ask for the key. + +"Then in the afternoon the police came from Durrington. I did not know +who you were when you came with them into my grandmother's room, but as +soon as I saw you I was afraid, though I tried hard not to let you see +it. I knew you were cleverer than the others. But your eyes seemed to go +right into mine, and search my soul. I asked my father afterwards who +you were, and he said your name was Mr. Colwyn, and that you were a +London detective. I had read about you; I knew that you were famous and +clever, and after seeing you I felt that you would be sure to discover +my secret, and put Mr. Penreath in prison. + +"That night when I was downstairs, I heard you and the police officer +talking in the room where you had dined, and I listened at the door. +When I heard you say that you were not certain who committed the murder, +I was very much surprised, because up till then I felt quite certain +that you would think Mr. Penreath was guilty. I believed if you found +the knife you would alter your opinion, Ann having told me that the +police knew that Mr. Glenthorpe had been murdered with a knife which Mr. +Penreath had used at dinner. The idea came into my head that if I could +get the knife before you found it, you might go on thinking that +somebody else had committed the crime, and perhaps persuade the police +to think so as well. + +"I made up my mind I would go into the room that night and get the +knife. I knew that the door was locked, and that the police officer had +placed the key on the mantelpiece in the bar parlour. During the evening +I kept downstairs at the back of the passage waiting for an opportunity +to get it. You both stayed there so long that I did not think I should +get the chance. + +"After you went upstairs to bed Mr. Galloway called Charles to get him +some brandy. Charles came out from his room to get it. Mr. Galloway +followed him into the bar. While he was there I slipped into the room +and got the key, and left the key of my own room in its place. I did not +think the police officer would notice the difference, but it was a risk +I had to take. Then I ran up to my room. + +"Although I had got the key I was for some time afraid to use it. I +could not bear the thought of going into that room, and to get there I +had to go past your door; I did not like that. + +"Then I crept out along the passage as quietly as I could, carrying my +shoes, for I had made up my mind that after I got the knife I would take +it across the marshes to the breakwater and throw it into the sea. That +was the one place where I felt sure you would not find it. I carried a +candle in my hand, but I dared not light it until I got past your door, +in case you were awake and saw the light. When I reached Mr. +Glenthorpe's room I lit the candle and unlocked the door, turning the +key as gently as I could. But it made a noise, and, as I stood +listening, I thought I heard a movement in your room. I blew out the +candle, stepped inside the room, took the key out, and locked the door +on the inside. + +"I do not know how long I stood there listening in the dark, but I know +that I was not as frightened as I had expected to be--at first. I kept +telling myself that Mr. Glenthorpe had always been kind to me while he +was alive, and that he would not harm me now that he was dead. I did not +look towards the bed, but kept close to the door, straining my ears to +catch any sound in the passage outside. But after a while I began to get +frightened in that dark room with the door locked, and dreadful thoughts +came into my mind. I remembered a story I had read about a man who was +locked up all night in a room with a dead body, and was found mad in the +morning, and the position of the corpse had changed. It seemed to me as +though Mr. Glenthorpe was sitting up in bed looking at me, but I dared +not turn round to see. I knew that I must get out of the room or scream. +I lit the candle, felt for the knife behind the picture, and opened the +door. As soon as the candle was alight I felt braver, and I looked out +of the door before going into the passage. I could see nothing--all +seemed quiet--so I came out of the room and locked the door behind me +and went downstairs. + +"Once I was outside the house and could see the friendly stars all my +fears vanished. I know the marshes so well that I can find my way across +them at any time. And in my heart I had the feeling that I had been +brave and helped him. When I had thrown the knife into the sea from the +breakwater I felt almost lighthearted, and when I reached my room again +I fell asleep as soon as I got into bed. + +"Until you spoke to me the next day I had no idea that you had seen and +followed me. But I knew it the moment you stopped me and said you +wanted to speak to me. Then I realised you had watched me, and the story +I told you to account for my visit to the room came into my head. I did +not know whether you believed me or not, but I did not care much, +because I knew you could not have seen what I threw into the sea. That +secret was safe as long as I kept silence; and you couldn't make me +speak against my will." + +Peggy, as she concluded, glanced up wistfully to see how her companion +received her story, but she could learn nothing from the detective's +inscrutable face. Colwyn, on his part, was thinking rapidly. He believed +that the innkeeper's daughter, yielding to the strain of a secret too +heavy to be borne alone, had this time told him the truth, but, as he +ran over the main points of her narrative in his mind, he could not see +that it shed any additional light on the murder. The only new fact that +she had revealed was that she and Penreath had been acquainted before. +She had also, perhaps unconsciously, given away the fact that she and +Penreath were in love with each other; at all events, her story proved +that she was so deeply in love with Penreath that she had displayed +unusual force of character in her efforts to shield him. But that +knowledge did not carry them any further towards a solution of the +mystery. It was with but a faint hope of eliciting anything of real +value that he turned to her and said: + +"There is one point of your story on which I am not quite clear. You +said that in the morning, when you heard of the recovery of Mr. +Glenthorpe's body from the pit, you knew that Mr. Penreath was the +murderer. Why were you so sure of that? Was is because you picked up the +knife with which the murder was committed? The knife was a clue--the +police theory of course is that Penreath secreted the knife at the +dinner table for the purpose of committing the murder--but, by itself, +it was hardly a convincing clue. Was there something else that made you +feel sure he was guilty of this crime?" + +"Yes, there was something else," she repeated slowly. + +"I thought as much. And that something else was the match-box--is that +not so?" + +"Yes, it was the match-box," she repeated again, this time almost in a +whisper. + +"What was there about the match-box that made you feel so certain?" + +"Must I tell you that?" she said, looking at him helplessly. + +"Of course you must tell me." Colwyn's face was stern. "As I told you +before, nothing you can do or say can hurt him now, and the only hope of +helping him is by telling the whole truth." + +"It was his match-box. It had his monogram on it." + +"You have brought it with you?" + +For answer she took something from the bosom of her dress and laid it, +with a heart-broken look, in Colwyn's hand. The article was a small +match-box, with a regimental badge in enamel on one side, and on the +other some initials in monogram. Colwyn examined it closely. + +"I see the initials are J.R.P.," he said. "How did you know they were +his initials? You knew his name?" + +"Yes. He used to light cigarettes with matches from that match-box when +I was with him, and one day I asked him to show it to me. He did so, and +I asked him what the initials were for, and he told me they stood for +his own name--James Ronald Penreath. And then he told me much about +himself and his family, and--and he said he cared for me, but he was not +free." + +She gave out the last few words in a low tone, and stood looking at him +like a girl who had exposed the most sacred secret of her heart in +order to help her lover. But Colwyn was not looking at her. He had +opened the match-box, and was shaking out the few matches which remained +in the interior. They fell, half a dozen of them, into the palm of his +hand. They were wax matches, with blue heads. A sudden light leapt into +the detective's eyes as he saw them--a look so strange and angry that +the girl, who was watching him, recoiled a little. + +"What is it? What have you found?" she cried. + +"It is a pity you did not tell me the truth in the first instance +instead of deceiving me," he retorted harshly. "Listen to me. Does any +one at the inn know of your visit to me to-day? I do not suppose they +do, but I want to make sure." + +"Nobody. I told them I was going to Leyland to see the dressmaker." + +"So much the better." Colwyn looked at his watch. "You have just time to +catch the half-past one train back. You had better go at once. I will go +to the inn some time this evening, but you must not let any one know +that I am coming, or that you have seen me to-day. Do you understand? +Can I depend on you?" + +"Yes," she replied. "I will do anything you tell me. But, oh, do tell me +before I go whether you are going to save him." + +"I cannot say that," he replied, in a gentler voice. "But I am going to +try to help him. Go at once, or you will not catch the train." + + + +CHAPTER XIX + + +Colwyn formed his plans on his way back to the hotel. He stopped at the +office as he went in to lunch, and informed the lady clerk that he had +changed his mind about leaving, and would keep on his room, but expected +to be away in the country for two or three days. The lady clerk, who had +mischievous eyes and wore her hair fluffed, asked the detective if he +had been successful in finding the young lady who had called to see him. +On Colwyn gravely informing her that he had, she smiled. It was obvious +that she scented a romance in the guest's changed plans. + +As the detective wished to attract as little attention as possible in +the renewed investigations he was about to make, he decided not to take +his car to Flegne. After lunch he packed a few necessaries in a handbag, +and caught the afternoon train to Heathfield. Arriving at that wayside +station, he asked the elderly functionary who acted as station-master, +porter and station cleaner the nearest way across country to Flegne, +and, receiving the most explicit instructions in a thick Norfolk +dialect, set out with his handbag. + +The road journey to Flegne was five miles. By the footpath across the +fields it was something less than four, and Colwyn, walking briskly, +reached the rise above the marshes in a little less than an hour. The +village on the edge of the marshes looked grey and cheerless and +deserted in the dull afternoon light, and the sighing wind brought from +the North Sea the bitter foretaste of winter. The inn was cut off from +the village by a new accession of marsh water which had thrust a slimy +tongue across the road, forming a pool in which frogs were vociferously +astir. + +As Colwyn descended the rise the front door of the inn opened, and the +gaunt figure of the innkeeper emerged, carrying some fishing lines in +his hands. He paused beneath the inn signboard, the rusty swinging +anchor, and looked up at the sky, which was lowering and black. As he +did so, he turned, and saw Colwyn. He waited for him to approach, and +left it to the visitor to speak first. He showed no surprise at Colwyn's +appearance, but his bird-like face did not readily lend itself to the +expression of human emotions. It would have been almost as easy for a +toucan to display joy, grief, or surprise. + +"Good afternoon, Benson," said the detective cheerfully. "Going to be +rather wet for a fishing excursion, isn't it?" + +"That's just what I can't make up my mind, sir," replied the other. +"Clouds like these do not always mean rain in this part of the world. +The clouds seem to gather over the marshes more, and sometimes they hang +like this for days without rain. But I do not think I'll go fishing +to-night. The rain in these parts goes through you in no time, and +there's no shelter on the marshes." + +"In that case you'll be able to attend to me." + +"I'd do that in any case, sir," replied the other quickly. + +"I think of spending a few days here before returning to London. I am +interested in archæological research, and this part of the Norfolk coast +is exceedingly rich in archæological and prehistoric remains, as, of +course, you are well aware." + +"Yes, sir. Many scientific gentlemen used to visit the place at one +time. We had one who stayed at the inn for a short time last year--Dr. +Gardiner, perhaps you have heard of him. He was very interested in the +hut circles on the rise, and when he went back to London he wrote a book +about them. Then there was poor Mr. Glenthorpe. He was never tired of +talking of the ancient things which were under the earth hereabouts." + +"Quite so. I should like to make a few investigations on my own account. +That is why I have come over this afternoon. I have left my car and my +luggage at Durrington, where I have been staying, thinking you might +find it easier to put me up without them. I presume you can accommodate +me, Benson?" + +"Well, sir, you know the place is rough and I haven't much to offer you. +But if you do not mind that----" + +"Not in the least. You need not go to any trouble on my account." + +"Then, sir, I shall be pleased to do what I can to make you comfortable. +Will you step inside? This way, sir--I must ask Ann about your room +before I can take you upstairs." + +The innkeeper opened the door of the bar parlour, and asked Colwyn to +excuse him while he consulted the servant. He returned in a few minutes +with Ann lumbering in his wake. The stout countrywoman bobbed at the +sight of the detective, and proceeded to explain in apologetic tones, +with sundry catches of the breath and jelly-like movements of her fat +frame, that she was sorry being caught unawares, and not expecting +visitors, but the fact was that Mr. Colwyn couldn't have the room he +slept in before, because she had given it a good turn out that day, and +everything was upside down, to say nothing of it being as damp as damp +could be. There was only poor Mr. Glenthorpe's room--of course, that +wouldn't do--and the room next, which the poor young gentleman had +slept in. Would Mr. Colwyn mind having that room? If he didn't mind, she +could make it quite comfortable, and would have clean sheets aired in +front of the kitchen fire in no time. + +Colwyn felt that he had reason to congratulate himself that he had been +asked to occupy the very room which he desired to examine closely. The +lucky accident of turning out the other room would save him a midnight +prowl from the one room to the other, with the possible risk of +detection. He told Ann that the room Mr. Penreath had slept in would do +very well, and assured her that she was not to bother on his account. +But Ann was determined to worry, and her mind was no sooner relieved +about the bedroom than she propounded the problem of dinner. She had +been taken unawares in that direction also. There was nothing in the +house but a little cold mutton, and some hare soup left over from the +previous day. If she warmed up a plateful of soup--it was lovely soup, +and had set into a perfect jelly--and made rissoles of the mutton, and +sent them to table with some vegetables, with a pudding to follow; would +_that_ do? Colwyn replied smilingly that would do excellently, and Ann +withdrew, promising to serve the meal within an hour. + +Colwyn passed that time in the bar parlour. The innkeeper, of his own +accord, brought in some of the famous smuggled brandy, and willingly +accepted the detective's invitation to drink a glass of it. With an +old-fashioned long-footed liqueur glass of the brown brandy in front of +him, the innkeeper waxed more loquacious than Colwyn had yet found him, +and related many strange tales of the old smuggling days of the inn, +when cargoes of brandy were landed on the coast, and stowed away in the +inn's subterranean passages almost under the noses of the excise +officers. According to local history, the inn had been built into the +hillside to afford better lurking-places, for those who were continually +at variance with His Majesty's excise officers. There was one local +worthy named Cranley, the lawless ancestor of the yeoman who had sold +the piece of land to Mr. Glenthorpe, who was reported to be the most +brazen smuggler in Norfolk, which was saying something, considering the +greater portion of the coastal population were engaged in smuggling in +those days. + +Cranley was a local hero, with a hero's love for the brandy he smuggled +so freely, and tradition declared of him that on one occasion he set +light to some barns and hayricks in order to warn some of his smuggling +companions who were "running a cargo" that a trap had been laid for +them. The farmers who had suffered by the blaze had sought to carry +Cranley before the justices, but he, with a few choice spirits, had +barricaded himself in the inn, defying the countryside for months, +subsisting on bread and brandy, and shooting from the circular windows +on the south side of the house at the soldiers sent to take him. Local +tradition varied as to the ultimate fate of Cranley and his desperate +band. + +According to some authorities, they escaped through the marshes and put +to sea; but another version of the story declared that they had been +captured and tried in the inn, and then ingloriously hanged, one after +the other, from the stanchion outside the door from which the anchor +suspended. This version added the touch that Cranley's last request was +for a bumper of the famous old brandy he had lost his life for, and when +it was given him he quaffed it to the bottom, dashed the cup in the +hangman's face, and swung himself off into eternity. Confirmatory +evidence of the siege of Cranley and his merry men was to be seen in +the outside wall, which was dinted with bullet marks made by the King's +troops as they tried to hit the smugglers, firing through the circular +windows. + +The innkeeper rambled on in this fashion until the entry of Charles with +a table-cloth reminded him of the flight of time, and he withdrew with a +halting apology for having sat there talking so long. The fat waiter +saluted Colwyn with a grave bow, and proceeded to lay the cloth. When he +had done this he left the room and returned with a bottle of claret, +which he put down in front of the fire, and proceeded to warm the wine, +keeping his hand on the bottle as he did so. Then he lifted the bottle +and held it to the light before setting it carefully on the table. + +"Your knowledge of wine is not of much use to you in Flegne, Charles," +remarked Colwyn. "You do not belong to these parts, I fancy." + +"No, sir. I'm a Londoner born and bred," replied the waiter, in his soft +whisper. + +"Why did you leave it? Londoners, as a rule, prefer their city to any +other part of the world." + +"I'd starve there now that my hearing is gone. London takes everything +from you, but gives you nothing in return. I'm only too grateful to Mr. +Benson for employing me here, considering the nature of my affliction. +No London hotel would give me a job now. But though I do say it, sir, I +think I make myself useful to Mr. Benson, and earn my keep and the few +shillings he gives me. I save him all the trouble I can." + +This was undoubtedly true, as Colwyn had observed during his former +visit to the inn. The deaf waiter was, to all intents and purposes, the +real manager of the inn, leaving the innkeeper free to pursue his +solitary life while he attended to the bar and the cellar, helped Ann +with the work, and waited on infrequent travellers. Doubtless the +arrangement suited both, though it could not have been profitable to +either, for there was little more than a bare living for one in such a +place. + +Looking up suddenly from his plate, Colwyn caught the waiter's black +eyes fixed on him in a keen penetrating gaze. Meeting the detective's +eyes, Charles instantly lowered his own. But for the latter action +Colwyn would have thought nothing of the incident, for he was aware that +Charles, on account of his deafness, had to watch the lips of people he +was serving in order to read their lips. But if Charles had been merely +watching for him to speak he would not have felt impelled to avert his +gaze when detected. The sudden lowering of his eyes was the swift +unconscious action of a man taken by surprise. The detective realised +that Charles did not accept the reason he had given to account for his +second visit to the inn. Charles evidently suspected that that reason +masked some ulterior motive. + +Colwyn finished his dinner and produced his cigar-case. Selecting a +cigar, he lit it with a match from the box Peggy had given him that day. + +"Have you ever seen this box before, Charles?" he said, placing the box +on the table. + +The waiter picked up the little silver and enamel box and examined it +attentively. + +"I have, sir," he said, handing it back. "It is Mr. Penreath's." + +"How do you recognise it?" + +"By the letters in enamel, sir. I noticed them that night at the dinner +table, when I was holding Mr. Penreath's candlestick while he lit it +with a match from that box." + +"Did he put it back in his pocket after lighting the candle?" + +"Yes, sir; into his vest pocket." + +"It was picked up in Mr. Glenthorpe's room after the murder was +committed. A strong clue, Charles! Many a man has been hanged on less." + +"No doubt, sir." + +The waiter, balancing a tray on his deformed arm, proceeded to clear the +table. When he had completed his task he asked the detective if he +needed him any more, because if he did not it was time for him to go +into the bar. On Colwyn saying that he needed nothing further he +noiselessly withdrew, steadying the loaded tray with his sound hand. + +Colwyn spent the evening sitting by the fire, smoking. It was fortunate +he had plenty to think about, for the inn did not offer any resources in +the way of reading to occupy the mind of the chance visitor to its roof. +There were a few books in the recess by the fireplace, but they +consisted of bound volumes of _The Norfolk Sporting Gazette_ from 1860 +to 1870, with an odd volume on _Fishing on the Broads_ and an obsolete +_Farmers' Annual_. The past occupants of the inn had evidently been keen +sportsmen, for there were specimens of stuffed fowl and fish ranged in +glass cases around the walls, and two old rusty fowling pieces and a +fishing rod hung suspended near the ceiling. + +Shortly after nine o'clock the innkeeper entered the room with a +candlestick, which he placed on the table. He explained that it was his +custom to go upstairs early, in order to sit with his mother for a +little while before he retired. The poor soul looked for it, he said, +and grew restless if he was late. + +"Who is sitting with her at present?" inquired the detective. + +"My daughter, sir. She always waits till I go up." + +"You never leave her alone, then?" + +"Only at night-time, sir. The doctor told me she could be safely left at +night. She sleeps fairly well, considering, though when there's wild +weather I always go in to her. The sound of the wind shrieking across +the marshes from the sea excites her, and we get a lot of that sort of +weather on the Norfolk coast, particularly in the winter months. I wish +I could afford to have her better looked after, but I cannot, and that's +the long and short of it." + +"Things are pretty bad with you, Benson?" + +"Very bad, indeed, sir. It keeps me awake at night, wondering where it's +all going to end. However, I don't want to burden you with my +troubles--I suppose we all have our own to bear. I merely came in to +bring your candlestick, and to ask you if there is anything you want +before I go to bed. Charles is gone to his room, but Ann is still up." + +"Tell Ann she need not sit up on my account. I need nothing further, and +I can find my way to my room. Is it ready yet?" + +"Quite, sir. Ann has just been up there, putting on some fresh sheets. +Perhaps you wouldn't mind turning off the gas at the meter as you go +up--it is just underneath the stairs. If you would not mind the trouble +Ann could then go to bed. We keep early hours here, as a rule. There is +nothing to sit up for." + +"I'll turn off the gas--I know where the meter is. How is it, Benson, +that the gas is laid on in only two of the rooms upstairs--the rooms Mr. +Glenthorpe used to occupy? It would have been an easy matter to lay it +on to the adjoining rooms, once the pipes had been taken upstairs." + +"That's quite true, sir, but the gas was taken upstairs on Mr. +Glenthorpe's account, shortly after he came here. He thought he would +like it, and he paid the bill for having it fixed. But after it was laid +on he rarely used it. He said he found the gaslight trying for his eyes +when he wanted to read in bed, so he got a reading lamp." + +"And yet the gas tap was partly turned on in his room the morning after +the murder," remarked Colwyn meditatively. + +"Perhaps the murderer turned it on," suggested the innkeeper in a low +tone. + +But there was a slight tremor in his voice that did not escape the keen +ears of the detective. + +"That is possible, but the point was not cleared up at the trial; it +probably never will be now," he replied, eyeing the innkeeper +attentively. "And the incandescent burner was broken too. Have you had a +new burner attached, Benson?" + +"No, sir. The room has never been used since." + +"It's a queer thing about that broken burner. That's another point in +this case that was not cleared up at the trial. Who do you think broke +it?" + +"How should I know, sir?" His bird's eyes, in their troubled shadow, +turned uneasily from the detective's glance. + +"Nevertheless, you can hazard an opinion. Why not? The case is over and +done with now, and Penreath--or Ronald, as he called himself--is +condemned to death. So who do you think broke that burner, Benson?" + +"Who else but the murderer, sir?" + +"That's the police theory, I know, but I doubt whether Penreath was tall +enough to strike it with his head. It's more than six feet from the +ground." The detective threw a critical glance over the innkeeper's +figure as though he were measuring his height with his eye. "You are +well over six feet, Benson--you might have done it." + +It was a chance shot, but the effect was remarkable. The innkeeper swung +his small head on the top of his long neck in the direction of the +detective, with a strange gesture, like a pinioned eagle twisting in a +trap. + +"What makes you say that!" he cried, and his voice had a new and +strident note. "I had nothing whatever to do with it." + +"What do you mean?" replied the detective sternly. "What do you suppose +I am suggesting?" + +"I beg your pardon, sir," replied the other. "The fact is I have not +been myself for some time past." + +His voice broke off in an odd tremor, and Colwyn noticed that the long +thin hand he stretched out, as though to deprecate his previous +violence, was shaking violently. + +"What's the matter with you, man?" The detective eyed him keenly. "Your +nerve has gone." + +"I know it has, sir. What happened in this house a fortnight ago upset +me terribly, and I haven't got over it yet. I have other troubles as +well--private troubles. I've had to sit up with mother a good deal +lately." + +"You'd better take a few doses of bromide," said the detective +brusquely. "A man with your nerves should not live in a place like this. +You had better go to bed now. Good night." + +"Good night, sir." The innkeeper hurried out of the room without another +word. + +Colwyn sat by the fire for some time longer pondering over this +unexpected incident, until the kitchen clock chiming eleven warned him +to go to bed. He turned off the gas at the meter underneath the stairs +as Benson had requested. When he reached the room in which Mr. +Glenthorpe had been murdered, he paused outside the door, and turned the +handle. The door was locked. + +As he was about to enter the adjoining bedroom which had been allotted +to him, a slender pencil of light pierced the darkness of the passage +leading off the one in which he stood. As he watched the gleam grew +brighter and broader; somebody was walking along the other passage. A +moment later the innkeeper's daughter came into view, carrying a candle. +She advanced quickly to where the detective was standing. + +"I heard you coming upstairs," she explained, in a whisper. "I have been +waiting and listening at my door. I wanted to see you, but it is +difficult for me to do so without the others knowing. So I thought I +would wait. I wanted to let you know that if you wish to see me at any +time--if you need me to do anything--perhaps you would put a note under +my door, and I could meet you down by the breakwater at any time you +appoint. Nobody would see us there." + +Colwyn nodded approvingly. Decidedly this girl was not lacking in +resource and intelligence. + +"I am so glad you are here," she went on earnestly. "I was afraid, after +I left you to-day, that you might change your mind. I waited at one of +the upstairs windows all the afternoon till I saw you coming. You will +save him, won't you?" + +She looked up at him with a faint smile, which, slight as it was, gave +her face a new rare beauty. + +"I will try," responded Colwyn, gravely. "Can you tell where the key of +Mr. Glenthorpe's room is kept?" + +"It hangs in the kitchen. Do you want it? I will get it for you. If Ann +or Charles see me, they, will not think it as strange as if they saw +you." + +She was so eager to be of use to him that she did not wait for his +reply, but ran quickly and noiselessly along the passage, and down the +stairs. In a very brief space she returned with the key, which she +placed in his hand. "Is there anything else I can do?" she asked. + +"Nothing, except to tell me where you got the key. I want to put it back +again without anybody knowing it has been used." + +"It hangs on the kitchen dresser--the second hook. You cannot mistake +it, because there is a padlock key and one of my father's fishing lines +hanging on the same hook." + +"Then that is all you can do. I will let you know if I want to see you +at any time." + +"Thank you. Good night!" She was gone without another word. + +Colwyn stood at his door watching her until she disappeared into the +passage which led to her own room. Then he turned into his bedroom and +shut the door behind him. + +He walked to the window and threw it open. The sea mist, driving over +the silent marshes like a cloud, touched his face coldly as he stood +there, meditating on the strange turn of events which had brought him +back to the inn to pursue his investigations into the murder at the +point where he had left them more than a fortnight before. In that brief +period how much had happened! Penreath had been tried and sentenced to +death for a crime which Colwyn now believed he had not committed. +Chance--no, Destiny--by placing in his hand a significant clue, had +directed his footsteps thither, and left it for his intelligence to +atone for his past blunder before it was too late. + +It was with a feeling that the hand of Destiny was upon him that Colwyn +turned from the window and regarded the little room with keen +curiosity. Its drab interior held a secret which was a challenge to his +intelligence to discover. What had happened in that room the night +Ronald slept there? He noted the articles of furniture one by one. +Nothing seemed changed since he had last been in the room, the day after +the murder was committed. There was a washstand near the window, a chest +of drawers, a dressing table and a large wardrobe at the side of the +bed. Colwyn looked at this last piece of furniture with the same +interest he had felt when he saw it the first time. It was far too big +and cumbrous a wardrobe for so small a room, about eight feet high and +five feet in width, and it was placed in the most inconvenient part of +the room, by the side of the bed, not far from the wall which abutted on +the passage. He opened its double doors and looked within. The wardrobe +was empty. + +Colwyn made a methodical search of the room in the hope of discovering +something which would throw light on the events of the night of the +murder. Doubtless the room had not been occupied since Penreath had +slept there, and he might have left something behind him--perhaps some +forgotten scrap of paper which might help to throw light on this strange +and sinister mystery. In the detection of crime seeming trifles often +lead to important discoveries, as nobody was better aware than Colwyn. +But though he searched the room with painstaking care, he found nothing. + +It was while he was thus engaged that a faint rustle aroused his +attention, and looking towards the corner of the room whence it +proceeded, he saw a large rat crouching by the skirting-board watching +him with malevolent eyes. Colwyn looked round for a weapon with which to +hit it. The creature seemed to divine his intentions, for it scuttled +squeaking across the room, and disappeared behind the wardrobe. + +Colwyn approached the wardrobe and pushed it back. As he did so, he had +a curious sensation which he could hardly define. It was as though an +unseen presence had entered the room, and was silently watching him. His +actions seemed not of his own volition; it was as though some force +stronger than himself was urging him on. And, withal, he had the uncanny +feeling that the whole incident of the rat and the wardrobe, and his +share in it, was merely a repetition of something which had happened in +the room before. + +The wardrobe moved much more easily than he had expected, considering +its weight and size. There was no rat behind it, but a hole under the +skirting showed where the animal had made its escape. But it was the +space where the wardrobe had stood that claimed Colwyn's attention. The +reason why it had been placed in its previous position was made plain. +The damp had penetrated the wall on that side, and had so rotted the +wall paper that a large portion of it had fallen away. + +In the bare portion of the wall thus revealed, about two feet square, +was a wooden trap door, fastened by a button. Colwyn unfastened the +button, and opened the door. A black hole gaped at him. + +The light of the candle showed that the wall was hollow, and the trap +opened into the hollow space. There was nothing unusual in such a door +in an old house; Colwyn had seen similar doors in other houses built +with the old-fashioned thick walls. It was the primitive ventilation of +a past generation; the doors, when opened, permitted a free current of +air to percolate through the building, and get to the foundations. But a +further examination of the hole revealed something which Colwyn had +never seen before--a corresponding door on the other side of the wall. +The other door opened into the bedroom which had been occupied by Mr. +Glenthorpe. Colwyn pushed it with his hand, but it did not yield. It was +doubtless fastened with a button on the outside, like the other. + +Colwyn, scrutinising the second door closely, noticed that the wood was +worm-eaten and shrunken. For that reason it fitted but loosely into the +aperture of the wall, and on the one side there was a wide crack which +arrested Colwyn's attention. It ran the whole length of the door, along +the top--that is, horizontally--and was, perhaps, a quarter of an inch +wide. + +With the tightened nerves which presage an important discovery, Colwyn +felt for his pocket knife, opened the largest blade, and thrust it into +the crack. It penetrated up to the handle. He ran the knife along the +whole length of the crack without difficulty. There was no doubt it +opened into the next room. + +Colwyn closed the trap-door carefully, and started to push the wardrobe +back into its previous position. As he did so, his eye fell upon several +tiny scraps of paper lying in the vacant space. He stooped, and picked +them up. They were the torn fragments of a pocket-book leaf, which had +been written upon. Colwyn endeavoured to place the fragments together +and read the writing. But some of the pieces were missing, and he could +only decipher two disjointed words--"Constance" and "forgive." + +Slowly, almost mechanically, the detective felt for his pipe, lit it, +and stood for a long time at the open window, gazing with set eyes into +the brooding darkness, wrapped in profound thought, thinking of his +discoveries and what they portended. + + + +CHAPTER XX + + +Colwyn was astir with the first glimmering of a grey dawn. He wanted to +test the police theory that the murder was committed by climbing from +one bedroom to the other, but he did not desire to be discovered in the +experiment by any of the inmates of the inn. + +The window of his bedroom was so small that it was difficult to get +through, and there was a drop of more than eight feet from the ledge to +the hillside. After one or two attempts Colwyn got out feet foremost, +and when half way through wriggled his body round until he was able to +grasp the window-ledge and drop to the ground. The fall caused his heels +to sink deeply into the clay of the hillside, which was moist and sticky +after the rain. + +Colwyn closely examined the impression his heels had made, and then +walked along until he stood underneath the window of the next room. It +was an easy matter to climb through this window, which was larger, and +closer to the ground--five feet from the hillside, at the most. Colwyn +sprang on to the ledge, and tried the window with his hand. It was +unlocked. He pushed up the lower pane, and entered the room. + +From the window he walked straight to the bedside, noting, as he walked, +that his footsteps left on the carpet crumbs of the red earth from +outside, similar to those which had been found in the room the morning +after the murder. He next examined the broken incandescent burner in the +chandelier in the middle of the room, and took careful measurements of +the distances between the gas jet, the bedside and the door, observing, +as he did so, that the gaslight was almost in a line with the foot of +the bed. That was a point he had marked previously when Superintendent +Galloway had suggested that the incandescent burner was broken by the +murderer striking it with the corpse he was carrying. Colwyn had found +it difficult to accept that point of view at the time, but now, in the +light of recent discoveries, and the new theory of the crime which was +gradually taking shape in his mind, it seemed almost incredible that the +murderer, staggering under the weight of his ghastly burden, should have +taken anything but the shortest track to the door. + +After examining the bed with an attentive eye, Colwyn next looked for +the small door in the wall. It was not apparent: the wall-paper appeared +to cover the whole of the wall on that side of the room in unbroken +continuity. But a closer inspection revealed a slight fissure or crack, +barely noticeable in the dark green wall-paper, extending an inch or so +beyond a small picture suspended near the door of the room. When the +picture was taken down the crack was more apparent, for it ran nearly +the whole length of the space. The door had been papered over when the +room was last papered, which was a long time ago, judging by the dingy +condition of the wall-paper, and the crack had been caused by the +shrinking of the woodwork of the door, as Colwyn had noticed the +previous night. + +Colwyn let himself out of the room with the key Peggy had given him, +locked the door behind him, and took the key down to the kitchen. It was +still very early, and nobody was stirring. Having hung the key on the +hook of the dresser, he returned to his room. + +At breakfast time that morning Charles informed him, in his husky +whisper, that he had to go over to Heathfield that day, to ascertain why +the brewer had not sent a consignment of beer, which was several days +overdue. Charles' chief regret was that for some hours his guest would +be left to the tender mercies of Ann, and he let it be understood that +he had the poorest opinion of women as waitresses. But he promised to +return in time to minister to Colwyn's comforts at dinner. Somewhat +amused, Colwyn told the fat man not to hurry back on his account, as Ann +could look after him very well. + +As Colwyn was smoking a cigar in front of the inn after breakfast, he +saw Charles setting out on his journey, and watched his short fat form +toil up the rise and disappear on the other side. Immediately +afterwards, the gaunt figure of the innkeeper emerged from the inn, +prepared for a fishing excursion. He hesitated a moment on seeing +Colwyn, then walked towards him and informed him that he was going to +have a morning's fishing in a river stream a couple of miles away, +having heard good accounts in the bar overnight of the fish there since +the recent rain. + +"Who will look after the inn, with both you and Charles away?" asked +Colwyn, with a smile. + +The innkeeper, carefully bestowing a fishing-line in the capacious side +pocket of his faded tweed coat, replied that as the inn was out of beer, +and not likely to have any that day, there was not much lost by leaving +it. That seemed to exhaust the possibilities of the conversation, but +the innkeeper lingered, looking at his guest as though he had something +on his mind. + +"I do not know if you care for fishing, sir," he remarked, after a +rather lengthy pause. "If you do, I should be happy at any time to show +you a little sport. The fishing is very good about this district--as +good as anywhere in Norfolk." + +Colwyn was quick to divine what was passing in the innkeeper's mind. He +had been brooding over the incident in the bar parlour of the previous +night, and hoped by this awkward courtesy to remove the impression of +his overnight rudeness from his visitor's mind. As Colwyn was equally +desirous of allaying his fears, he thanked him for his offer, and stood +chatting with him for some moments. His pleasant and natural manner had +the effect of putting the innkeeper at his ease, and there was an +obvious air of relief in his bearing as he wished the detective good +morning and departed on his fishing expedition. + +Colwyn spent the morning in a solitary walk along the marshes, thinking +over the events of the night and morning. He returned to the inn for an +early lunch, which was served by Ann, who gossiped to him freely of the +small events which had constituted the daily life of the village since +his previous visit. The principal of these, it seemed, had been the +reappearance, after a long period of inaction, of the White Lady of the +Shrieking Pit--an apparition which haunted the hut circles on the rise. +Colwyn, recalling that Duney and Backlos imagined they had encountered a +spectre the night they saw Penreath on the edge of the wood, asked Ann +who the "White Lady" was supposed to be. Ann was reticent at first. She +admitted that she was a firm believer in the local tradition, which she +had imbibed with her mother's milk, but it was held to be unlucky to +talk about the White Lady. However, her feminine desire to impart +information soon overcame her fears, and she launched forth into full +particulars of the legend. It appeared that for generations past the +deep pit on the rise in which Mr. Glenthorpe's body had been thrown had +been the haunt of a spirit known as the White Lady, who, from time to +time, issued from the depths of the pit, clad in a white trailing +garment, to wander along the hut circles on the rise, shrieking and +sobbing piteously. Whose ghost she was, and why she shrieked, Ann was +unable to say. Her appearances were infrequent, with sometimes as long +as a year between them, and the timely warning she gave of her coming by +shrieking from the depths of the pit before making her appearance, +enabled folk to keep indoors and avoid her when she was walking. As long +as she wasn't seen by anybody, not much harm was done, but the sight of +her was fatal to the beholder, who was sure to come to a swift and +violent end. + +Ann related divers accredited instances of calamity which had followed +swiftly upon an encounter with the White Lady, including that of her own +sister's husband, who had seen her one night going home, and the very +next day had been kicked by a horse and killed on the spot. Ann's +grandmother, when a young girl, had heard her shrieking one night when +she was going home, but had had the presence of mind to fall flat on her +face until the shrieking had ceased, by which means she avoided seeing +her, and had died comfortably in her bed at eighty-one in consequence. + +Colwyn gathered from the countrywoman's story that the prevailing +impression in the village was that Mr. Glenthorpe's murder was due to +the interposition of the White Lady of the Shrieking Pit. The White +Lady, after a long silence, had been heard to shriek once two nights +before the murder, but the warning had not deterred Mr. Glenthorpe from +taking his nightly walk on the rise, although Ann, out of her liking and +respect for the old gentleman, had even ventured to forget her place +and beg and implore him not to go. But he had laughed at her, and said +if he met the White Lady he would stop and have a chat with her about +her ancestors. Those were his very words, and they made her blood run +cold at the time, though she little thought how soon he would be +repenting of his foolhardiness in his coffin. If he had only listened to +her he might have been alive that blessed day, for she hadn't the +slightest doubt he met the White Lady that night in his walk, and his +doom was brought about in consequence. + +Ann concluded by solemnly urging Colwyn, as long as he remained at the +inn, to keep indoors at night as he valued his life, for ever since the +murder the White Lady had been particularly active, shrieking nearly +every night, as though seeking another victim, and the whole village was +frightened to stir out in consequence. Ann had reluctantly to admit that +she had never actually heard her shrieking herself--she was a heavy +sleeper at any time--but there were those who had, plenty of them. +Besides, hadn't he heard that Charles, while shutting up the inn the +very night poor Mr. Glenthorpe's body had been taken away, had seen +something white on the rise? On Colwyn replying that he had not heard +this, Ann assured him the whole village believed that Charles had seen +the White Lady, and regarded him as good as dead, and many were the +speculations as to the manner in which his inevitable fate would fall. + +The relation of the legend of the White Lady lasted to the conclusion of +lunch, and then Colwyn sauntered outside with a cigar, in order to make +another examination of the ground the murderer had covered in going to +the pit. The body had been carried out the back way, across the green +which separated the inn from the village, and up the rise to the pit. +The green was now partly under water, and the track of the footprints +leading to the rise had been obliterated by the heavy rains which had +fallen since, but the soft surface retained the impression of Colwyn's +footsteps with the same distinctness with which it had held, and +afterwards revealed, the track of the man who had carried the corpse to +the pit. + +Colwyn examined the pit closely. The edges were wet and slippery, and in +places the earth had been washed away. The sides, for some distance +down, were lined with a thick growth of shrubs and birch. Colwyn knelt +down on the edge and peered into the interior of the pit. He tested the +strength of the climbing and creeping plants which twisted in snakelike +growth in the interior. It seemed to him that it would be a +comparatively easy matter to descend into the pit by their support, so +far as they went. But how far did they go? + +While he was thus occupied he heard the sound of footsteps crashing +through the undergrowth of the little wood on the other side of the pit. +A moment later a man, carrying a rabbit, and followed by a mongrel dog, +came into view. It was Duney. He stared hard at Colwyn and then advanced +towards him with a grin of recognition. + +"Yow be lookin' to see how t'owd ma'aster was hulled dune th' pit?" he +asked. + +"I was wondering how far the pit ran straight down," replied Colwyn. "It +seems to take a slight slope a little way down. Does it?" + +"I doan't know narthin' about th' pit, and I doan't want to," replied +Mr. Duney, backing away with a slightly pale face. "Doan't yow meddle +wi' un, ma'aster. It's a quare place, thissun." + +"Why, what's the matter with it?" + +"Did you never hear that th' pit's haunted? Like enough nobody'd tell +yow. Folk hereabowts aren't owerfond of talkin' of th' White Lady of th' +Shrieking Pit, for fear it should bring un bad luck." + +"I've been hearing a little about her to-day. Is she any relation of +Black Shuck, the ghost dog you were telling me about?" + +"It's no larfin' matter, ma'aster. You moind the day me and Billy +Backlog come and towld yow about us seein' that chap on th' edge of yon +wood that night? Well, just befower we seed un we heerd th' rummiest +kind of noise--summat atween a moan and a shriek, comin' from this 'ere +pit. I reckon, from what's happened to that chap Ronald since, that it +wor the White Lady of th' Pit we heered. It's lucky for us we didn't see +un." + +"I remember at the time you mentioned something about it." + +"Ay, she be a terr'ble bad sperrit," said Mr. Duney, wagging his head +unctuously. "She comes out of this yare pit wheer t'owd man was chucked, +and wanders about the wood and th' rise, a-yellin' somefin awful. It's +nowt to hear her--we've all heerd her for that matter--but to see her is +to meet a bloody and violent end within the month. That's why they call +this 'ere pit 'the Shrieking Pit.' I'm thinkin' that owd Mr. Glenthorpe, +who was allus fond of walkin' up this way at nights, met her one night, +and that'll account for his own bloody end. And it's my belief that she +appeared to the young chap who was hidin' in th' woods the night we saw +un. And look what's happened to un! He's got to be hanged, which is a +violent end, thow p'r'aps not bloody." + +"If that's the local belief, I wonder anybody went down into the pit to +recover Mr. Glenthorpe's body." + +"Nobody wouldn't 'a' gone down but Herward. I wouldn't 'a' gone down for +untowd gowd, but Herward comes from th' Broads, and don't know nartin' +about this part of the ma'shes. Besides, he ain't no Christian, down't +care for no ghosts nor sperrits. I've often heerd un say so." + +"Is it true that the White Lady has been seen since Mr. Glenthorpe was +murdered?" + +"She's been heered, shure enough. Billy Backlog, who lives closest to +the rise, was a-tellin' us in the _Anchor_ bar that she woke him up two +nights arter th' murder, a-yowlin' like an old tomcat, but Billy knew +it worn't a cat--it weer far more fearsome, wi gasps at th' end. The +deaf fat chap at Benson's arst him what time this might be. Billy said +he disremembered th' time--mebbe it wor ten or a bit past. Then the fat +chap said it wor just about that time the same night, as he wor shuttin' +up, he saw somefin white float up to th' top of th' pit. He thowt at th' +time it might be mist, thow there weren't much mist on th' ma'shes that +night, but now he says 'es sure that it wor the White Lady from the +Shrieking Pit that he saw. 'Then Gawdamighty help yow, poor fat chap,' +says Billy, looking at him solemn-like. 'The hearin' of her is narthin', +it's th' seein' o' her that's the trouble.' The poor fat chap a' been +nigh skeered out o' his wits ever since, and nobody in th' village wud +go near th' pit a' nighttimes--no, not for a fortin. I ain't sure as +it's safe to be here even in daytimes, thow I never heered of her comin' +out in the light." Mr. Duney turned resolutely away from the pit, and +called to his dog, who was sitting near the edge, regarding his master +with blinking eyes and lolling tongue. "I'll be goin', in case that +Queensmead sees me from th' village. I cot this coney fair and square in +th' open, but it be hard to make Queensmead believe it. Well, I'll be +goin'. Good mornin', ma'aster." + +He trudged away across the rise, with his dog following at his heels. +Colwyn was about to turn away also, when his eye was caught by a scrap +of stained and discoloured paper lying near the edge of the pit, where +the rain had washed away some of the earth. He stooped, and picked it +up. It was a slip of white paper, about five inches long, and perhaps +three inches in width, quite blank, but with a very apparent watermark, +consisting of a number of parallel waving lines, close together, running +across the surface. Although the watermark was an unusual one, it seemed +strangely familiar to Colwyn, who tried to recall where he had seen it +before. But memory is a tricky thing. Although Colwyn's memory instantly +recognised the watermark on the paper, he could not, for the moment, +recollect where he had seen it, though it seemed as familiar to him as +the face of some old acquaintance whose name he had temporarily +forgotten. Colwyn ultimately gave up the effort for the time being, and +placed the piece of paper in his pocket-book, knowing that his memory +would, sooner or later, perform unconsciously the task it refused to +undertake when asked. + +Colwyn spent the afternoon in another solitary walk, and darkness had +set in before he returned to the village. As he reached the inn he +glanced towards the hut circles, and was startled to see something white +move slowly along by the edge of the Shrieking Pit and vanish in the +wood. There was something so weird and ghostly in the spectacle that +Colwyn was momentarily astounded by it. Then his eye fell on the sea +mist which covered the marshes in a white shroud, and he smiled +slightly. It was not the White Lady of the Shrieking Pit he had seen, +but a spiral of mist, floating across the rise. + +The sight brought back to his mind the stories he had heard that day, +and when he was seated at dinner a little later he casually asked +Charles if he believed in ghosts. The fat man, with a sudden uplifting +of his black eyes, as though to ascertain whether Colwyn was speaking +seriously, replied that he did not. + +"I'm surprised to hear of your scepticism, Charles, for I'm told that +the apparition from the pit--the White Lady, as she is called--has +favoured you with a special appearance," said Colwyn, in a bantering +tone. + +"I see what you mean now, sir. I didn't understand you at first. It was +like this: some of the villagers were talking about this ghost in the +bar a few nights back, and one or two of the villagers, who all firmly +believed in it, declared that they had heard her wandering about the +previous night, moaning and shrieking, as is supposed to be her custom. +I, more by way of a joke than anything else, told them I had seen +something white on the rise the previous night, when I was shutting up +the inn. But the whole village has got it into their heads that I saw +the White Lady, and they think because I've seen her I'm a doomed man. +The country folk round about here are an ignorant and superstitious lot, +sir." + +"And did you actually see anything, Charles, the night you speak of?" + +"I saw something, sir--something long and white--like a moving white +pillar, if I may so express myself. While I looked it vanished into the +woods." + +"It was probably mist. I saw something similar this evening!" + +"Very likely, sir. I do not think it was a ghost." + +Colwyn did not pursue the subject further, though he was struck by the +wide difference between Charles' account of the incident and that given +to him by Duney at the pit that afternoon. + +When Charles had cleared the table Colwyn sat smoking and thinking until +late. After he was sure that the rest of the inmates of the inn had +retired, he went to the kitchen and took the key of Mr. Glenthorpe's +room from the hook of the dresser. When he reached his own bedroom, his +first act was to push back the wardrobe and open the trap door he had +discovered the previous night. He looked at his watch, and found that +the hour was a little after eleven. He decided to wait for half an hour +before carrying out the experiment he contemplated. By midnight he would +be fairly safe from the fear of discovery. He lay down on his bed to +pass the intervening time, but he was so tired that he fell asleep +almost immediately. + +He awakened with a start, and sat up, staring into the black darkness. +For a moment or two he did not realise his surroundings, then the sound +of stealthy footsteps passing his door brought him back to instant +wakefulness. The footsteps halted--outside his door, it seemed to +Colwyn. There followed the sound of a hand fumbling with a lock, +followed by the shooting of a bolt and the creaking of a door. The truth +flashed upon the detective; somebody was entering the next room. As he +listened, there was the scrape of a match, and a moment later a narrow +shaft of light streamed through the open wall-door into his room. + +Colwyn got noiselessly off his bed and looked through the crack in the +inner small door into the other room. The picture on the other side of +the wall narrowed his range of vision, but through the inch or so of +crack extending beyond the picture he was able to see clearly that +portion of the adjoining bedroom in which the bed stood. Near the bed, +examining with the light of a candle the contents of the writing table +which stood alongside of it, was Benson, the innkeeper. + +He was searching for something--rummaging through the drawers of the +table, taking out papers and envelopes, and tearing them open with a +furious desperate energy, pausing every now and again to look hurriedly +over his shoulder, as though he expected to see some apparition start up +from the shadowy corners. The search was apparently fruitless, for +presently he crammed the papers back into the drawers with the same +feverish haste, and, walking rapidly across the room, passed out of the +view of the watcher on the other side, for the picture which hung on the +inside wall prevented Colwyn seeing beyond the foot of the bed. Although +the innkeeper could not now be seen, the sound of his stealthy quick +movements, and the flickering lights cast by the candle he carried, +suggested plainly enough that he was continuing his search in that +portion of the room which was not visible through the crack. + +In a few minutes he came back into Colwyn's range of vision, looking +dusty and dishevelled, with drops of perspiration starting from his +face. With a savage gesture, which was akin to despair, he wiped the +perspiration from his face, and tossed back his long hair from his +forehead. It was the first time Colwyn had seen his forehead uncovered, +and a thrill ran through him as he noticed a deep bruise high upon the +left temple. The next moment the innkeeper walked swiftly out of the +room, and Colwyn heard him close the door softly behind him. + +Colwyn waited awhile. When everything seemed quiet, he cautiously opened +his door in the dark, and tried the door of the adjoining room. It was +locked. + +The innkeeper, then, had another key which fitted the murdered man's +door. And what was he searching for? Money? The treasury notes which Mr. +Glenthorpe had drawn out of the bank the day he was murdered, which had +never been found? Money--notes! + +By one of those hidden and unaccountable processes of the human brain, +the association of ideas recalled to Colwyn's mind where he had +previously seen the peculiar watermark of waving lines visible on the +piece of paper he had picked up at the brink of the pit that afternoon: +it was the Government watermark of the first issue of War Treasury +notes. + +Colwyn lit his bedroom candle, and examined the piece of paper in his +pocket-book with a new and keen interest. There was no doubt about it, +the mark on the dirty blank paper was undoubtedly the Treasury +watermark. But how came such a mark, designed exclusively for the +protection of the Treasury against bank-note forgeries, to appear on a +dirty scrap of paper? + +As he stood there, turning the bit of paper over and over, in his hand, +puzzling over the problem, the solution flashed into his mind--a +solution so simple, yet, withal, so remarkable, that he hesitated to +believe it possible. But a further examination of the paper removed his +doubts. Chance had placed in his hands another clue, and the most +important he had yet discovered, to help him in the elucidation of the +mystery of the murder of Roger Glenthorpe. But to verify that clue it +would be necessary for him to descend the pit. + + + +CHAPTER XXI + + +An orange crescent of a waning moon was sinking in a black sky as Colwyn +let himself quietly out of the door and took his way up to the rise. But +the darkness of the night was fading fast before the grey dawn of the +coming day, and in the marshes below the birds were beginning to stir +and call among the reeds. + +Colwyn waited for the first light of dawn before attempting the descent +of the pit. His plan was to climb down by the creepers as far as they +went, and descend the remainder of the distance by the rope, which he +would fasten to one of the shrubs growing in the interior. He realised +that his chances of success depended on the slope of the pit and the +depth to which the shrubs grew, but the attempt was well worth making. +Assistance would have made the task much easier, but publicity was the +thing Colwyn desired most to avoid at that stage of his investigations. +There would be time enough to consider the question of seeking help if +he failed in his individual effort. + +He made his plans carefully before commencing the descent. He first +tested a rope he had found in the lumber room of the inn; it was thin +but strong and capable of bearing the weight of a heavier man than +himself. The rope was not more than fifteen feet in length, but if the +hardy climbing plants which lined the sides of the pit were capable of +supporting him ten or twelve feet down, that length should be sufficient +for his purpose. Having tested the rope and coiled it, he slipped it +into the right-hand pocket of his coat with one end hanging out. Next he +opened his knife, and placed it with a candle and a box of matches in +his other pocket. Then turning on his electric torch, he lowered himself +cautiously into the pit by the creepers which fringed the surface. + +There was no difficulty about the descent for the first eight or ten +feet. Then the shrubs that had afforded foothold for his feet suddenly +ceased, and the foot that he had thrust down for another perch touched +nothing but the slippery side of the pit. Clinging firmly with his left +hand to the network of vegetation which grew above his head, Colwyn +flashed his electric torch into the blackness of the pit beneath him. +One or two long tendrils of the climbing plants which grew higher up +dangled like pendulous snakes, but the vegetable growth ceased at that +point. Beneath him the naked sides of the pit gleamed sleek and wet in +the rays of the torch. + +Pulling himself up a little way to gain a securer footing, Colwyn took +the coil of rope from his pocket, and selecting a strong withe which +hung near him, sought to fasten the end of the rope to it. It took him +some time to do this with the hand he had at liberty, but at length he +accomplished it to his satisfaction, and then he allowed the coils of +the rope to fall into the pit. He next essayed to test the strength of +the support, by pulling at it. To his disappointment, his first vigorous +tug snapped the withe to which the rope was attached. He tied the rope +to a stronger growth, but with no better result: the growths seemed +brittle, and incapable of bearing a great strain when tested separately. +It was the twisted network of the withes and twigs which gave the +climbing plants inside the pit sufficient toughness to support his +weight. Taken singly, they had very little strength. + +Colwyn reluctantly realised that it would be folly to endeavour to +attempt the further descent of the pit by their frail support, and he +decided to relinquish the attempt. + +As he was about to ascend, the light of the torch brought into view that +part of the pit to which he was clinging, and he noticed that the +testing of the withes had torn away a portion of the leafy screen, +revealing the black and slimy surface of the pit's side. Colwyn was +amazed to see a small peg, with a fishing line attached to it, sticking +in the bare earth thus exposed. Somebody had been down the pit and +placed it there--recently, judging by the appearance of the peg, which +was clean and newly cut. What was at the other end of the line, which +dangled in the darkness of the pit? A better hiding place for anything +valuable could not have been devised. The thin fishing line was +indiscernible against the slimy side of the pit, and Colwyn realised +that he would never have discovered it had it not been for the lucky +accident which had exposed the peg to which the line was anchored. A +place of concealment chosen at the expense of so much trouble and risk +indicated something well worth concealing, and it was with a strong +premonition of what was suspended down the pit that the detective, +taking a firmer hold of the twining tendrils above his head, began to +haul up the line. The weight at the end was slight; the line came up +readily enough, foot after foot running through his hand, and then, +finally, a small oblong packet, firmly fastened and knotted to the end +of the line. + +Colwyn examined the packet by the light of the torch. It was a man's +pocket-book of black morocco leather, a large and serviceable article, +thick and heavy. The detective did not need the information conveyed by +the initials "R. G." stamped in silver lettering on one side, to +enlighten him as to the owner of the pocket-book and what it contained. + +Removing the peg from the earth, Colwyn was about to place the +pocket-book and the line in his pocket, but on second thoughts he +restored the peg to its former position, and endeavoured to untie the +knots by which the pocket-book was fastened to the line. It was +difficult to do this with one hand, but, by placing the pocket-book in +his pocket, and picking at the knots one by one, he at length unfastened +it from the line. He tied his own pocket-book to the end of the line, +and dropped it back into the pit. He next replaced the greenery torn +from the spot where the peg rested. When he had restored, as far as he +could, the original appearance of the hiding place, he ascended swiftly +to the surface. + +The first act, on reaching the fresh air, was to examine the contents of +the pocket-book. As he anticipated, it was crammed full of notes of the +first Treasury issue. He did not take them out to count them; a rook, +watching him curiously from the edge of the wood, warned him of the +danger of human eyes. + +Here, then, was the end of his investigations, and a discovery which +would necessitate his departure from the inn sooner than he had +anticipated. Nothing remained for him to do but to acquaint the +authorities with the fresh facts he had brought to light, indicate the +man to whom those facts pointed, and endeavour to see righted the +monstrous act of injustice which had condemned an innocent man to the +ignominy of a shameful death. The sooner that task was commenced the +better. The law was swift to grasp and slow to release, and many were +the formalities to be gone through before the conviction of a wrongly +convicted man could be quashed, especially in a grave charge like +murder. Only on the most convincing fresh evidence could the jury's +verdict be upset, and none knew better than Colwyn that such evidence +had not yet been obtained. But the additional facts discovered during +his second visit to the inn, if not in themselves sufficient to upset +the verdict against Penreath, nevertheless threw an entirely new light +on the crime, which, if speedily followed up, would prove Penreath's +innocence by revealing the actual murderer. The only question was +whether the police would use the clues he was going to place in their +hands in the manner he wished them to be used. If they didn't--but +Colwyn refused to contemplate that possibility. His mind reverted to the +chief constable of Norfolk. He felt he was on firm ground in believing +that Mr. Cromering would act promptly once he was certain that there had +been a miscarriage of justice in the Glenthorpe case. + +It would be necessary to arrange his departure from the inn in such a +manner as not to arouse suspicion, and also to have the pit watched in +case any attempt was made to recover the money he had found that +morning. Colwyn, after some consideration, decided to invoke the aid of +Police Constable Queensmead. His brief association with Queensmead had +convinced him that the village constable was discreet and intelligent. + +It was still very early as he descended to the village and sought the +constable's house. His knock at the door was not immediately answered, +but after the lapse of a minute or two the door was unbolted, and the +constable's face appeared. When he saw who his visitor was he asked to +be excused while he put on some clothes. He was back speedily, and +ushered Colwyn into the room in which he did his official business. + +"Queensmead," said the detective earnestly, "I have to go to Norwich, +and I want you to do something for me in my absence. I am going to tell +you something in strict confidence. Fresh facts have come to light in +the Glenthorpe case. You remember Mr. Glenthorpe's money, which was +supposed to have been stolen by Penreath, but which was never recovered. +I found it this morning down the pit where the body was thrown." + +"How did you get down the pit?" asked Queensmead. + +"I climbed down the creepers as far as they went. I had a rope for the +rest of the descent, but it wasn't needed, for I found Mr. Glenthorpe's +pocket-book suspended by a cord about ten feet down. Here it is." + +Queensmead scrutinised the pocket-book and its contents, and on handing +it back remarked: + +"Do you think Penreath returned and concealed himself in the wood to +recover these notes?" + +Colwyn was struck by the penetration of this remark. + +"No, quite the contrary," he replied. "Your deduction is drawn from an +isolated fact. It has to be taken in conjunction with other fresh facts +which have come to light--facts which put an entirely fresh complexion +on the case, and tend to exculpate Penreath." + +"I would rather not know what they are, then," replied Queensmead +quietly. "It is better I should not know too much. You see, it might be +awkward, in more ways than one, if things are turning out as you say. +What is it you want me to do?" + +"I want you to watch the pit on the rise while I am away, chiefly at +night. It is of paramount importance that the man whom I believe to be +the thief and murderer should not be allowed to escape in my absence. I +do not think that he has any suspicions, so far, and it is practically +certain nobody saw me descend the pit. But if he should, by any chance, +go down to the pit for his money, and find it gone, he would know he +had been discovered, and instantly seek safety in flight. That must be +prevented." + +"How?" + +"You must arrest him." + +"I do not see how that can be done," replied Queensmead. "I cannot take +upon myself to arrest a man simply for descending the pit. It's not +against the law." + +"In order to get over that difficulty I left my own pocket-book tied to +the cord in the pit," replied Colwyn. "It's a black leather one, like +Mr. Glenthorpe's. If the thief goes down he is hardly likely to discover +the difference till he gets to the surface. You can arrest him for the +theft of my pocket-book, which contains a little money. You can make a +formal entry of my complaint of my loss." + +"Well, I've heard that you were a cool customer, Mr. Colwyn, and now I +believe it," replied Queensmead, laughing outright. "Fancy thinking out +a plan like that down in the pit! But as you've made the complaint it's +my duty to enter it, and keep a look out for your lost pocket-book. I'll +watch the pit, and if anybody goes down it I'll arrest him." + +"If the attempt is made it will not be in daytime--it will be in the +night, you may be sure of that. I want you to watch the pit at night. +The life of an innocent man may depend on your vigilance. It will only +be for two nights, or three at the most. I shall certainly return within +three days." + +"You may depend on me," replied the constable. "I will go to the pit as +soon as it grows dark, and watch from the edge of the wood till +daylight." + +"Thank you," said Colwyn. "I felt sure you would do it when you knew +what was at stake. I have an idea that your vigil will not be +disturbed, but I want to be on the safe side. I suppose you are not +afraid of the ghost?" + +"You have heard of the White Lady of the Shrieking Pit?" said +Queensmead, looking at the other curiously. + +"I have heard of her, but I have not heard her, or seen her. Have you?" + +"I cannot say I have, but I live at the wrong end of the village, and I +never go out at night. But there are plenty of villagers, principally +customers of the _Anchor_, who are prepared to take their Bible oath +that they have heard her--if not seen her. The White Lady has terrorised +the whole village--since the murder." + +There was something in the tone of the last three words which attracted +the detective's attention. + +"There was not much talk of the ghost before the murder, then?" he +asked. + +"Very little. I have been stationed here for two years, and hardly knew +of its existence. Of course, it's a deep-rooted local tradition, and +every villager has heard the story in childhood, and most of them +believe it. Many of them actually think they have heard moans and +shrieks coming from the rise during this last week or so. It's a lonely +sort of place, with very little to talk about; it doesn't take much to +get a story like that going round." + +"Then you think there is some connection between the reappearance of the +ghost and the hiding of the money in the pit it is supposed to haunt?" + +"It's not my business to draw inferences of that kind, sir. I leave that +to my betters, if they think fit to do so. I am only the village +constable." + +"But you've already inferred that the legend has been spread round again +by means of gossip at the _Anchor_. Was it started there?" + +"It was and it wasn't. A fool of a fellow named Backlog burst into the +tap-room one night and said he had heard the White Lady shrieking, and +Charles--that's the waiter--declared that he had seen something white +the same night. That was the start of the business." + +"So I have heard. But what has kept it going ever since?" + +"Well, from what I hear--I never go to the inn myself, but a local +policeman learns all the gossip in a small place like this--the subject +is brought up in the bar-room every evening, either by the innkeeper or +Charles, and discussed till closing time, when the silly villagers go +home, huddled together like a flock of sheep, not daring to look round +for fear of seeing the White Lady." + +"Do Benson and Charles both believe in the ghost?" + +"It seems as if they do." The constable's voice was noncommittal. + +As Colwyn rose to go, Queensmead looked at him with a trace of +hesitation in his manner. + +"Perhaps you'd answer me a question, sir," he said in a low tone, as +though afraid of being overheard. "That greenery that grows inside the +pit, by which you climbed down, will it support a heavy weight?" + +"It will hold a far heavier man than you, if you are thinking of making +the descent," said Colwyn laughingly. "It's a case of unity is strength. +The tendrils of the climbing plants are so twisted together that they +are as tough as ropes." + +"Thank you. What time will you reach here when you return?" + +"Probably not before dusk, but certainly by then. In the meantime, of +course, you will not breathe a word of this to anybody." + +"I am not likely to do that. I shall keep a close watch on the pit till +I see you again." + +"That's right. Good day." + +"Good day, sir." + +It still wanted a few minutes to seven when Colwyn returned to the inn. +The front door was as he had left it, closed, but unlocked. The house +was silent: nobody was yet stirring. He locked the door after him, and +proceeded to his room, pleased to think he had not been seen going or +coming. His first act on reaching his room was to lock the door and +count the money in the pocket-book. The money was all in single Treasury +notes, with one five-pound note. The case contained nothing else except +a faded newspaper clipping on Fossil Sponges. Colwyn replaced the notes, +and put the case in an inside breast pocket. He next performed the best +kind of toilet the primitive resources of the inn permitted, and +occupied himself for an hour or so in completing his notes of his +investigations. + +While he was breakfasting he saw the innkeeper passing the half-open +door, and he called him into the room and told him to let him have his +bill without delay, as he was returning to Durrington that morning. The +innkeeper made no comment on hearing his guest's intention, and Charles +brought in the bill a little later. Colwyn, as he paid it, casually +asked Charles if he happened to know the time of the morning trains from +Heathfield. + +"There's one to Durrington at eleven o'clock, sir," said the waiter, +consulting a greasy time-table. "There's one at 9:30, but it's a good +long walk to the station, and you could not catch it because there's no +way of getting there except by walking, as you know, sir." + +"The eleven o'clock train will suit me," said Colwyn, consulting his +watch. + +"Shall I go and get your bag, sir?" + +"No, thanks, I've not packed it yet." + +Colwyn went upstairs shortly afterwards determined to pack his bag and +leave the place as soon as possible. As he was about to enter his room +he saw Peggy appear at the end of the passage. She looked at him with a +timid, wistful smile, and made a step towards him, as though she would +speak to him. Colwyn pretended not to see her, and hurried into his room +and shut the door. How could he tell her what she had so innocently done +in recalling him to the inn? How inform her what the cost of saving her +lover would be to her? Somebody else must break the news to her, when it +came to that. He packed his things quickly, anxious only to leave a +place which had grown repugnant to him, and to drop the dissimulation +which had become hateful. Never had he so acutely realised how little a +man is master of his actions when entangled in the strange current of +Destiny which men label Chance. + +When he emerged from the room with his bag, Peggy was no longer visible. +The innkeeper was standing in the passage as he went downstairs, and +Colwyn nodded to him as he passed. He breathed easier in the fresh +morning air, and set out briskly for the station. + +He reached Heathfield an hour later, and found he had nearly half an +hour to wait for his train. The first ten minutes of that time he +utilised despatching two telegrams. One was to the chief constable of +Norfolk, at Norwich, and the other to Mr. Oakham, in London. In the +latter telegram he indicated that fresh discoveries had come to light in +Penreath's case, and he asked the solicitor to go as soon as possible to +Norwich where he would await him at his hotel. + + + +CHAPTER XXII + + +Colwyn reached Durrington by midday, and proceeded to the hotel for his +letters and lunch. After a cold meal served by a shivering waiter in the +chilly dining room he went to the garage where he had left his car, and +set out for Norwich. He arrived at the cathedral city late in the +afternoon, and drove to the hotel where Mr. Oakham had stayed. While +engaging a room, he told the clerk that he expected Mr. Oakham from +London, and asked to be informed immediately he arrived. After making +these arrangements the detective left the hotel and went to the city +library, where he spent the next couple of hours making notes from legal +statutes and the Criminal Appeal Act. + +When he returned to the hotel for dinner the clerk informed him that Mr. +Oakham had arrived a short time previously, and had requested that Mr. +Colwyn would join him at dinner. Colwyn proceeded to the dining-room, +and saw Mr. Oakham dining in solitary state at a large table, reading a +London evening newspaper between the courses. He looked up as Colwyn +approached, and rose and shook hands. + +"This is an unexpected pleasure," said the detective. "I hardly thought +you would get here before the morning." + +"I had arranged to visit Norwich to-morrow, but in view of the urgent +nature of your telegram I decided to catch the afternoon train instead," +replied the solicitor. "Will you dine with me, Mr. Colwyn, and we can +talk business afterwards." + +Colwyn complied, and when the meal was finished, Mr. Oakham turned to +him with an eagerness which he did not attempt to conceal, and said: + +"Now for your news, Mr. Colwyn. But, first, where shall we talk?" + +"As well here as anywhere. There is nobody within hearing." + +The solicitor followed his glance round the almost empty dining-room, +and nodded acquiescence. Drawing his chair a little nearer the +detective, he begged him to begin. + +"I have not very much to tell you--at present. But since the conviction +of your client, James Ronald Penreath, I have been back to the inn where +the murder was committed, and I have discovered fresh evidence which +strengthens considerably my original belief that Penreath is an innocent +man. But I have reached a stage in my investigations when I need your +assistance in completing my task before I go to the authorities with my +discoveries. It is hardly necessary for me to tell a man of your +experience that it is one of the most difficult things in the world to +upset a jury's verdict in a case of murder." + +"What have you discovered?" + +"This, for one thing." Colwyn produced the pocket-book, and displayed +the contents on the table. "This is the murdered man's pocket-book, +containing the missing notes which Penreath is supposed to have murdered +him for. The prosecution dropped the charge of robbery, but the theft +formed an important part of the Crown theory of the crime, as +establishing motive." + +"Where did you find this pocket-book?" + +"Suspended by a piece of cord, half way down the pit where the body was +flung." + +"It's an interesting discovery," replied Mr. Oakham thoughtfully +tapping his nose with his gold-rimmed eye-glasses as he stared at the +black pocket-book on the white tablecloth. "Speaking personally, it is +proof of what I have thought all along, that a Penreath of Twelvetrees +would not commit a robbery. Therefore, on that line of reasoning, one +could argue that as Penreath did not commit the robbery, and the Crown +hold that the murder was committed for the money, Penreath must be +innocent. But the Crown is more likely to hold that as Penreath threw +the body in the pit, he concealed the money there afterwards, and was +hiding in the wood to recover it when he was arrested. The real point +is, Mr. Colwyn, can you prove that it was not Mr. Penreath who placed +the money in the pit?" + +"I believe I can prove, at all events, that it was not Penreath who +threw the body into the pit." + +"You can! Then who was it?" + +"I am not prepared to answer that question at the moment. During my +visit to the inn I made a number of other discoveries besides that of +the pocket-book, which, though slight in themselves, all fit in with my +present theory of the murder. But before disclosing them, I want to +complete my investigations by testing my theory to the uttermost. It is +just possible that I may be wrong, though I do not think so. When I have +taken the additional step which completes my investigations, I will go +to the chief constable, reconstruct the crime for him as I see it now, +and ask him to take action." + +"Then why have you sent for me?" + +"To help me to complete my task. Part of my theory is that Penreath is +deliberately keeping silent to shield some one else. The solicitor of a +convicted man has access to him even when he is condemned to death. I +want you to take me with you to see Penreath." + +"For what purpose?" + +"In order to get him to speak." + +"It would be quite useless." The lawyer spoke in some agitation. "I have +seen him twice since the verdict, and implored him to speak if he has +anything to say, but he declared that he had nothing to say." + +"Nevertheless, I shall succeed where you have failed. Penreath is an +innocent man." + +"Then why does he not speak out, even now--more so now than ever?" + +"He has his reasons, and they seem sufficient to him to keep him silent +even under the shadow of the gallows." + +"And why do you think he will confide them to you, when he refuses to +divulge them to his professional adviser?" + +"He will not willingly reveal them to me. My hope of getting his story +depends entirely upon my success in springing a surprise upon him. That +is one of my reasons for not telling you more just now. The mere fact +that you knew would hamper my handling a difficult situation. The +slightest involuntary gesture or look might put him on his guard, and +the opportunity would be lost. It is not absolutely essential that I +should gain Penreath's statement before going to the police, but if his +statement coincides with my theory of the crime it will strengthen my +case considerably when I reconstruct the crime for the police." + +"Your way of doing business strikes me as strange, Mr. Colwyn," said the +solicitor stiffly. "As Mr. Penreath's professional adviser, surely I am +entitled to your fullest confidence. You are asking me to behave in a +very unprofessional way, and take a leap in the dark. There are proper +ways of doing things. I will be frank with you. I have come to Norwich +in order to urge Penreath for the last time to permit me to lodge an +appeal against his conviction. That interview has been arranged to take +place in the morning." + +"Has he previously refused to appeal?" + +"He has--twice." + +"May I ask on what grounds you are seeking permission to appeal?" + +"If he consents, my application to the Registrar would be made under +Section Four of the Criminal Appeal Act," was the cautious reply. + +"That means you are persisting in your original defence--that Penreath +is guilty, but insane. Therefore your application for leave to appeal +against the sentence on the ground of insanity only enables you to +appeal to the Court to quash the sentence on the ground that Penreath is +irresponsible for his acts. Even if you succeed in your appeal he will +be kept in gaol as a criminal lunatic. In a word, you intend to persist +in a defence which, as I told you before the trial, had very little +chance of success. In my opinion it has no more chance of success before +the Court of Appeal. You have not sufficient evidence for a successful +defence on the grounds of insanity. The judge, in his summing up at the +trial, was clearly of the opinion that Sir Henry Durwood was wrong in +thinking Penreath insane, and he directed the jury accordingly. + +"In my opinion the judge was right. I do not think Penreath is insane, +or even subject to fits of impulsive insanity. If you ask my opinion, I +think he is still suffering from the effects of shell shock, and, like +many other brave men who have been similarly affected, he endeavoured to +conceal the fact. I have come to the conclusion that Penreath's peculiar +conduct at the Durrington hotel, on which Sir Henry based his theory of +_furor epilepticus_, was nothing more than the combined effect of +mental worry and an air raid shock on a previously shattered nervous +system. Penreath is a sane man--as sane as you or I--and my late +investigations at the scene of the murder have convinced me that he is +an innocent man also. The question is, are you going to allow +professional etiquette to stand in the way of proving his innocence?" + +"But you have not shown me anything to convince me that he _is_ an +innocent man. Your statement comes as a great surprise to me, and you +cannot expect that I should credit your bare assumption. It would be +exceedingly difficult to believe without the most convincing proofs, +which you have not brought forward. I prepared the case for the defence +at the trial, and I only permitted that defence to be put forward +because there was no other course--the evidence was so overwhelming, and +Penreath's obstinate silence in the face of it pointed so conclusively +to his guilt." + +"Nevertheless, you were wrong. The question is, are you going to help me +undo that wrong?" + +"You have not yet proved to me that it is a wrong," quibbled the +solicitor. + +"Mr. Oakham, let me make this quite clear to you," said the detective +sternly. "I have sent for you out of courtesy, because, as I said +before, I like to do things in a regular way. As you force me to speak +plainly, there is another reason, which is that I did not wish to make +you look small, or injure your professional reputation, by acting +independently of you. It would be a bad advertisement for Oakham and +Pendules if it got abroad--as it assuredly will if you persist in your +attitude--that an innocent client of yours was almost sent to the +gallows through your wrong defence at his trial. It is in your hands to +prevent such a scandal from becoming public property. But if you are +going to stand on professional etiquette it is just as well you should +understand that I am quite prepared to act independently of you. I have +sufficient influence to obtain an order from the governor of the gaol +for an interview with the condemned man, and I shall do so. I have +discovered sufficient additional evidence in this case to save Penreath, +and I am going to save him, with or without your assistance. You have +had your way--it was a wrong way. Now I am going to have my way. I only +ask you to trust me for a few hours. After I have seen Penreath you are +at liberty to accompany me to the chief constable, to whom I shall tell +everything. That is my last word." + +"I will do as you ask, Mr. Colwyn," replied the solicitor, after a short +pause. "Not because I am apprehensive of the consequences, but because +you have convinced me that it would be foolish and wrong on my part to +place any obstacles in the way of establishing my client's innocence, +even if it is only the smallest chance. You must forgive my hesitation. +I am an old man, and your story has been such a shock that I am unable +to realise it yet. But I will not stand on punctilio when it is a +question of trying to save a Penreath of Twelvetrees from the gallows. I +think I can arrange it with the governor of the gaol to permit you to +accompany me when I see Penreath in the morning. That interview is to +take place at twelve o'clock. We can go together from here to the gaol, +if that will suit you." + +"That will suit me excellently. And before that interview takes place I +should be glad if you would tell me the facts of Penreath's engagement +to Miss Willoughby." + +"I really know very little about it," said Mr. Oakham, looking somewhat +surprised at the question. "I have heard, though, that Penreath met +Miss Willoughby in London before the war, and became engaged after a +very brief acquaintance. Ill-natured people say that the girl's aunt +threw her at Penreath's head. The aunt is a Mrs. Brewer, a wealthy +manufacturer's widow, a pushing nobody----" + +"I have met her." + +"I had forgotten. Well, you know that type of woman, with an itch to get +into Society. Perhaps she thought that the marriage of her niece to a +Penreath of Twelvetrees would open doors for her. At any rate, I +remember there was a great deal of tittle-tattle at the time to the +effect that she manoeuvred desperately hard to bring about the +engagement. On the other hand, there can be no harm in stating now that +Ronald Penreath's father was almost equally keen on that match for +monetary reasons. The Penreaths are far from wealthy. From that point of +view the match seemed suitable enough--money on one side, and birth and +breeding on the other. I am not sure that there was very much love in +the case, or that the young people's feelings were deeply involved on +either side. There is no reason why I should not mention these things +now, for the match has been broken off. It was broken off shortly after +Penreath's arrest." + +"By the young lady?" + +"By the aunt, in her presence. It happened the day after they went to +Heathfield to identify Penreath. Mrs. Brewer was furious about the whole +business as soon as she ascertained that it wasn't a mistake, as she had +hoped at first, and that there was likely to be much unpleasant +publicity over it. She said she would never be able to hold up her head +in Society after the disgrace, and all that sort of thing. It all came +about through my asking Miss Willoughby if she would like to see her +lover while he was awaiting trial. The girl replied, coldly enough, that +it would be time enough to see him after he had cleared himself of the +dreadful charge hanging over his head. By the way she spoke she seemed +to think herself a deeply injured person, as perhaps she was. Then the +aunt had her say, and insisted that I must tell Penreath the engagement +was broken off. I asked Miss Willoughby if that was her wish also, and +she replied that it was. I told Penreath the following day, but I do not +think that it worried him very much." + +"I do not think it would," replied Colwyn with a smile. + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + + +Colwyn found Mr. Oakham awaiting him in the hotel lobby, a little before +eleven the following morning, to inform him that the necessary +arrangements had been made to enable him to be present at his interview +with Penreath. Colwyn forbore to ask him on what pretext he had obtained +the gaol governor's consent to his presence, but merely signified that +he was ready. Mr. Oakham replied that they had better go at once, and +asked the porter to call a taxi. + +On arriving at the gaol they passed through the double entrance gates, +Mr. Oakham turned to a door on the left just within the gates, and +entered. The door opened into a plainly furnished office, with walls +covered with prison regulations. Behind a counter, at a stand-up desk +opposite the door, a tall burly man in a uniform of blue and silver was +busily writing in a large ledger. Ranged in rows, on hooks alongside +him, were bunches of immense keys, and as he turned to attend to Oakham +and Colwyn another bunch of similar keys could be seen dangling at his +side. Mr. Oakham explained the purpose of their visit, and produced the +order for the interview. The functionary in blue and silver, who was the +entrance gaoler, perused it attentively, and pushed over two forms for +the solicitor and the detective to fill in. It was the last formality +that the law insisted on--a grim form of visiting card whereon the +visitor inscribes his name and business, which is sent to the condemned +man, who must give his consent to the interview before it is granted. + +When Mr. Oakham and Colwyn had filled in their forms the entrance gaoler +took them and pulled a rope. Somewhere in a corridor a bell clanged, and +a moment afterwards a gaoler opened a small door on the other side of +the counter. The entrance gaoler gave him the forms, and he disappeared +with them. There ensued a long period of waiting, and nearly half an +hour elapsed before he reappeared again, accompanied by a warder. The +blue and silver functionary silently lifted the flap of the counter, and +beckoned Mr. Oakham and Colwyn to accompany the warder through the small +door at the other end of the room. + +They went through and the bell clanged once more as the door closed +behind them. The warder took them along a corridor to a door at the +farther end, and ushered them into a room--a large apartment, not unlike +a board room, furnished with a table and chairs ranged on each side. It +was the governor of the gaol's room, where the interview was to take +place. Colwyn took one of the chairs at the table, Mr. Oakham took +another, and silently they awaited the coming of the condemned man. + +Another quarter of an hour elapsed before the door at the other end of +the room opened, and Penreath appeared between two warders. They +conducted him to the table, and placed a chair for him. With a quick +glance at his visitors he sat down, and the warders seated themselves on +each side of him. The warder who had brought the visitors in then nodded +to Mr. Oakham, as an indication that the interview might begin. + +In the brief glance that the young man cast at his visitors Colwyn +observed both calmness of mind and self-possession. Although deep +shadows under the eyes and the tenseness of the muscles round the mouth +revealed sleepless nights and mental agony, Penreath's face showed no +trace of insanity or the guilty consciousness of evil deeds, but had the +serene expression of a man who had fought his battle and won it. + +Mr. Oakham began the interview with him in a dry professional way, as +though it were an interview between solicitor and client in the sanctity +of a private room, with no hearers. And, indeed, the prison warders +sitting there with the impassive faces of officialdom might have been +articles of furniture, so remote were they from displaying the slightest +interest in the private matters discussed between the two. No doubt they +had been present at many similar scenes, and custom is a deadening +factor. Mr. Oakham's object was to urge his client to consent to the +lodgement of an appeal against the jury's verdict, and to that end he +advanced a multitude of arguments and a variety of reasons. The young +man listened patiently, but when the solicitor had concluded he shook +his head with a gesture of finality which indicated an unalterable +refusal. + +"It's no use, Oakham," he said. "My mind is quite made up. I'm obliged +to you for all the trouble you have taken in my case, but I cannot alter +my decision. I shall go through with it--to the end." + +"In that case it is no use my urging you further." Mr. Oakham spoke +stiffly, and put his eye-glasses in his pocket with an air of vexation. +"Mr. Colwyn has something to say to you on the subject. Perhaps you will +listen to him. He believes he can help you." + +"He helped to arrest me," said Penreath, with a slight indifferent look +at the detective. + +"But not to convict you," said Colwyn. "I had hoped to help you." + +"What do you want of me?" Penreath's tone was cold. + +"In the first place, I have to say that I believe you innocent." + +The young man lifted his eyebrows slightly, as if to indicate that the +other's opinion was a matter of indifference to him, but he remained +silent. + +"I have come to beg of you, even at this late hour, to break your +silence, and give an account of your actions that night at the inn." + +"You might have saved yourself the trouble of coming here. I have +nothing whatever to say." + +"That means that you continue in your refusal to speak. Will you answer +one or two questions?" + +"No." + +"Will you not tell me why you kept silence about what you saw in Mr. +Glenthorpe's room that night of the murder?" + +"Man, how did you find that out?" Penreath's calm disappeared in a +sudden fury of voice and look. "What do you know?" + +"I know whom you are trying to shield," replied the detective, with his +eyes fixed on Penreath's face. "You are wrong. She----" + +"I beg of you to be silent! Do not mention names, for God's sake." +Penreath's face had grown suddenly white. + +"It is in your power to ensure my silence." + +"How?" + +"By speaking yourself." + +"That I will never do." + +"Then you compel me to go to the authorities and tell them what I have +discovered. I will save you in spite of yourself." + +"Do you think that I want to be saved--like that?" + +Struggling desperately for self-control Penreath turned to Mr. Oakham. +"Why did you bring Mr. Colwyn here?" he asked the solicitor fiercely. +"To torture me?" + +Before Mr. Oakham could reply Colwyn laughed aloud. A clear ringing +laugh of unmistakable satisfaction. The laugh sounded strangely +incongruous in such a place. + +"Penreath," he said, "you've told me all that I came here to know. +You're a splendid young Briton, but finesse is not your strong point. +You've acted like a quixotic young idiot in this case, and got yourself +into a nice muddle for nothing. The girl is as innocent as you are, and +you are a pair of simpletons! Yes. I mean what I say," continued the +detective, answering the young man's amazed look with a reassuring +smile. "Do you think that I would want to save you at her expense? Now +perhaps, when I have told you what happened that night, you will answer +a few questions. Before you went to bed you sat down and wrote a letter +on a leaf torn from your pocket-book. That letter was to Miss +Willoughby, breaking off your engagement. After writing it you went to +bed. At that time it was raining hard. + +"You must have fallen asleep almost immediately, and slept for half an +hour--perhaps a little more--for when you awoke the rain had ceased. You +heard a slight noise in your room, and lit your candle to see what it +was. There was a rat in the corner of the room. You got up to throw +something at it, but as soon as you moved the rat darted across the room +and disappeared behind the wardrobe at the side of the bed. You pushed +back the wardrobe and----" + +"For God's sake, say no more!" said Penreath. His face was grey, and he +was staring at the detective with the eyes of a man who saw his heart's +secret--the secret for which he was prepared to die--being dragged out +into the light of day. "How did you learn all this?" + +"That does not matter much just now. What you saw through the wall made +you determine to leave the house as speedily as possible, and also +caused you to destroy the letter you had written to Miss Willoughby. + +"You were wrong in what you did. In the first place, you misinterpreted +what you saw through the door in the wall. By thinking Peggy guilty and +leaving the inn early in the morning, you not only wronged her +grievously, but brought suspicion on yourself. Peggy's presence in the +room was quite by accident. She had gone to ask Mr. Glenthorpe to assist +you in your trouble, by lending you money, and, finding the door open, +she impulsively went in and found him dead--murdered. And at the bedside +she picked up the knife--the knife you had used at dinner--and this." + +Colwyn produced Penreath's match-box from his pocket and laid it on the +table in front of him. + +"Because of the knife and this match-box she thought you guilty." + +"I! Why I never left my room after I went into it," exclaimed Penreath. +"I left the match-box in the room where I had dined with Mr. Glenthorpe. +When I awoke after falling asleep, and heard the noise in the room--just +as you describe--I could not find my match-box when I wanted a match to +light my candle, then I remembered that I had left it in the +sitting-room on the mantelpiece. I happened to find a loose match in my +vest pocket." + +"Peggy came to see me at my hotel, after the trial, and told me all she +knew," continued Colwyn. "It was well she did, for my second visit to +the inn brought to light a number of facts which will enable me to +establish your innocence." + +"And what about the real murderer?" asked Penreath, in a hesitating +voice, without looking at the detective. + +"We will not go into that just now, unless you have anything to tell me +that will throw further light on the events of the night." Colwyn shot a +keen, questioning glance at the young man. + +"I will answer any questions you wish to put to me. It is the least I +can do after having made such a fool of myself. It was the shock of +seeing Peggy in the room that robbed me of my judgment. I should have +known her better, but you must remember that I had no idea she was in +the house until I looked through the door in the wall which I had +accidentally discovered, and saw her standing at the bedside, with the +knife in her hand. I started to follow her home that day because I +wished to know more about her. I lost my way in the mist. I met a man on +the marshes who directed me to the village and the inn." + +"When she heard your voice, and saw you going upstairs, she waited about +in the hope of seeing you before she went to bed, as she wished to avoid +meeting you in the presence of her father. When she saw Mr. Glenthorpe's +door open she acted on a sudden impulse, and went in." + +"I have been rightly punished for my stupidity and my folly," said +Penreath. "I have wronged her beyond forgiveness." + +"You really have not much to blame yourself for except your obstinate +silence. That was really too quixotic, even if things had been as you +imagined. No man is justified in sacrificing his life foolishly. And you +had much to live for. You had your duty to do in life. Nobody knew that +better than you--a soldier who had served his country gallantly and +well. In fact, your silence has been to me one of the puzzles of this +case, and even now it seems to me that you must have had a deeper motive +than that of shielding the girl, because you could have asserted your +innocence without implicating her." + +"You are a very clever man, Colwyn," said the other slowly. "There was +another reason for my silence." + +"What was it?" + +"I am supposed to be an epileptic. I happen to know a little of the +course of that frightful disease, and it seemed to me that it was better +to die--even at the hands of the hangman--than to live on to be a burden +to my friends and relations, particularly when by dying I could shield +the girl I loved. That is why I was glad when the plea put up for my +defence failed. I preferred to die rather than live branded as a +criminal lunatic. So, you see, it was not such a great sacrifice on my +part, after all." + +"What brought you back to the wood where you were arrested?" + +"To see her. I do not know if I wanted to speak to her; but I wanted +above all things to see her once again. When I left the inn that morning +I had no idea that I might fall under suspicion for having committed the +murder, but I was desperately unhappy after what I had seen the night +before, and I didn't care what I did or where I went. Instead of walking +back to Durrington I struck across the marshes in the opposite +direction. I walked along all day, through a desolate area of marshes, +meeting nobody except an old eel fisherman in the morning, and, later +on, a labourer going home from his work. I was very tired when I saw the +labourer, and I asked him to direct me to some place where I could +obtain rest and refreshment. He pointed to a short cut across the +marshes, which, he said, led to a hamlet with an inn. I went along the +path he had pointed out, but I lost my way in the gathering darkness. +After wandering about the marshes for some time I saw the light of a +cottage window some distance off, and went there to inquire my way. The +occupant, an old peasant woman, could not have heard anything about the +murder, for she was very kind to me, and gave me tea and food. +Afterwards I set out for the inn again, and when I reached the road I +sat down by the side of it to rest awhile. + +"While I was sitting there two men came along. They did not see me in +the dark, and I heard them talking about the murder, and from what they +said I knew that I was suspected, and that the whole country side was +searching for me. It seemed incredible to me, and my first instinct was +to fly. I sat there until the men's voices died away in the distance, +then I turned off the road, and hurried across some fields, looking for +a place to hide. After walking some distance I came to a large barn, +standing by itself. The door was open, and I went in. I had no matches, +but I felt some hay or straw on the floor. I lay down and pulled some +over me, and fell fast asleep. + +"I had only intended to rest in the barn for a while, but I was so tired +that I slept all night. When I awoke it was broad daylight. I did not +know where I was at first, but it all came back to me, and I started up +in a fright, determined to leave the barn as quickly as possible, for I +knew it was an unsafe hiding place, and likely to be searched at any +time. But before I could get away I heard loud voices approaching, and I +knew I should be seen. I looked hastily around for some place of +concealment. It was just a big empty shed with one or two shelves +covered with apples, and a lot of straw on the floor. In desperation, +as the voices came nearer, I lay down on the floor again, and pulled +straw over me till I was completely hidden from view. + +"The door opened, and some men looked in. Through the straw that covered +me I could see them quite distinctly--three fishermen and a farm +labourer--though apparently they couldn't see me. From their +conversation I gathered that they formed part of a search party looking +for me, and had been told off to search the barn. This apparently they +were not anxious to do, for they merely peeped in at the door, and one +of them, in rather a relieved tone, said I wasn't in there, wherever I +was. One of the fishermen replied that he expected that I was far enough +off by that time. They stood at the door for a few moments, talking +about the murder, and then they went away. + +"I stayed in the barn all day, but nobody else came near me. When it was +dark, I filled my pockets with apples from the shelves, and went out. I +wandered about all night, and found myself close to a railway station at +daybreak. I had been in that part of the country before, so I knew where +I was--not far from Heathfield, with Flegne about three miles away +across the fields. The country was nearly all open, and consequently +unsafe. As I walked through a field I spied a little hut, almost hidden +from view in a clump of trees. The door was open, and I could see it was +empty. I went in, lay down, and fell fast asleep. + +"When I awoke it was getting dusk. I was very stiff and cold, so I +started out walking again to get myself warm. It was then, I remember +well, that the longing came over me to see Peggy again. I cursed myself +for my weakness, knowing what I knew--or thought I knew, God forgive +me. + +"I found myself making my way back to Flegne as fast as my legs would +carry me--which wasn't very fast, because I was weak from want of food, +and so footsore that I could hardly stumble along. But I got over the +three miles somehow, and reached the wood, where I crawled into some +undergrowth, and lay there all night, sometimes dozing, sometimes wide +awake, and sometimes a bit light-headed, I think. It was there you found +me next day, and I was glad you did. I was about finished when I saw you +looking through the bushes and only too glad to come out. I didn't care +what happened to me then. And now, I have told you all." + +The young man, as he finished his story, buried his face in his hands, +as though overcome by the recollection of the mental anguish he had been +through, and what he had endured. + +"Not quite all, I think," said Colwyn, after a pause. + +"I have told you everything that counts," said Penreath, without looking +up. + +"You have not," replied the detective firmly. "You have not told me all +you saw when you were looking through the door between the two rooms the +night of the murder." + +Penreath raised his head and regarded the other with startled eyes. + +"What do you mean?" he said, in a whisper. + +"I mean that you have kept back that you saw the body removed," he said +grimly. + +"Are you a man or a wizard?" cried Penreath fiercely. "God! how did you +find that out?" + +"By guess work, if you like," responded the other coolly. "Listen to me! +There has been too much concealment about this case already, so let us +have no more of it. It was because of what you saw afterwards that your +suspicions were doubly fastened on the girl, is that not so? I thought +as much," he continued, as the other nodded without speaking. "How long +after Peggy left the room was it before the body was removed?" + +"Not very long," replied Penreath. "After she went out of the room I sat +on the bedside. I did not close the small door I had discovered, or +replace the wardrobe. I was too overwhelmed. In a little while--perhaps +ten minutes--I saw a light shine through the hole again. I went to it +and looked through--God knows why--and I saw somebody walking stealthily +into the room, carrying a candle. He went to the bedside and, with a +groan, lifted the body on to his shoulders, and carried it out of the +room. I crept to my door, and looked out and saw him descending the +stairs. God in heaven, what a horror, what a horror! + +"I waited to see no more. I shut the door in the wall, pulled the +wardrobe back into its place and determined to leave the accursed inn as +soon as it was daylight. In my cell at nights, when I hear the footsteps +of the warder sounding along the corridor and dying away in the +distance, it reminds me of how I stood at the door that night, listening +to the sound of the footsteps stumbling down the staircase." + +"You heard the footsteps distinctly, then?" said the detective. + +"Distinctly and clearly. The staircase is a stone one, as you know." + +"Did you put your boots out to be cleaned before you went to bed?" + +"Yes." + +"And were they there when you looked out of the door?" + +"I do not remember. But I know they were there in the morning, dirty +and covered with clay. I took them in, and was about to put them on, +when the servant knocked at the door with a cup of morning tea. I +answered the door with the boots in my hand. She offered to clean them +for me, and was taking them away, but I called her back and said I would +not wait for them. I was too anxious to get away from the place." + +"Do you remember when you lost the rubber heel of one of them?" + +"It must have been when I was walking the previous day. They were only +put on the day before. I happened to mention to a bootmaker at +Durrington that my left heel had become jarred with walking. He +recommended me to try rubber heels to lessen the strain, and he put them +on for me. I had never worn them before, and found them very +uncomfortable when I was walking along the marshes. They seemed to hold +and stick in the wet ground." + +"And now there are one or two other points I want you to make clear. Why +did you register in the name of James Ronald at the Durrington Hotel?" + +"That was merely a whim. I was disgusted with London and society after +my return from the front. Those who have been through this terrible war +learn to see most things at their true worth, and the frivolity, the +snobbishness, and the shams of London society at such a time sickened +and disgusted me. They tried to lionise me in drawing rooms and make me +talk for their entertainment. They put my photograph in the illustrated +papers, and interviewed me, and all that kind of thing. What had I done! +Nothing! Not a tithe of what thousands of better men are doing every day +out there. So I went away from it all. I had no intention, when I went +into the hotel, of not registering in my full name though. That came +about in a peculiar way. It was the first registration form I had +seen--it was the first hotel I had stayed at after nearly eighteen +months at the front--and I put down my two christian names, James +Ronald, in the wrong space, the space for the surname, which is the +first column. I saw my error as I glanced over the form, but the girl, +thinking I had filled it up, took it away from me. It then struck me +that it was just as well to let it go; it would prevent my being worried +by fools." + +"And how came it that you ran so short of money that you had to leave +the hotel?" + +"I have practically nothing except what my father allows me, and which +is paid quarterly through his bankers in London. I left London with a +few pounds in my pocket, and thought no more about money until the hotel +proprietor stopped me one morning and asked me politely to discharge my +bill, as I was a stranger to him. It was then that I first realised the +difference between a name like Penreath of Twelvetrees and plain James +Ronald. I was furious, and told him he should have the money in two +days, as soon as I could communicate with my London bankers. I wrote +straight away, and asked them to send me some money. The money came, the +morning I was turned out of the hotel; I saw the letter in the rack, +addressed to J. R. Penreath, but what good was that to me? I could not +claim it because I was booked in the name of James Ronald. I knew nobody +in the place to whom I could apply. I had some thoughts of confiding in +the hotel proprietor, but one look at his face was sufficient to put +that out of the question. + +"So I went in to breakfast, desperately angry at being treated so, and +feeling more than a little ill. You know what happened at the breakfast +table. I began to feel pretty seedy, and left my place to get to the +fresh air, when that doctor--Sir Henry Durwood--jumped up and grabbed +me. I tried to push him off, but he was too strong for me, and I found +myself going. The next thing I knew was that I was lying in my bedroom, +and hearing somebody talk. After you had left the room I determined to +leave the hotel as quickly as possible. I packed a small handbag, and +told the hotel-keeper on my way downstairs that he could keep my things +until I paid my bill. Then I walked to Leyland Hoop, where I had an +appointment with Peggy, as you know. I seem to have acted as a pretty +considerable ass all round," said the young man, with a rueful smile. +"But I had a bad gruelling from shell-shock. I wouldn't mention this, +but it's really affected my head, you know, and I don't think I'm always +quite such a fool as this story makes me appear to be." + +"And your nerves were a bit rattled by the Zeppelin raid at Durrington, +were they not?" said Colwyn sympathetically. + +"You seem to know everything," said the young man, flushing. "I am +ashamed to say that they were." + +"You have no cause to be ashamed," replied Colwyn gently. "The bravest +men suffer that way after shell-shock." + +"It's not a thing a man likes to talk about," said Penreath, after a +pause. "But if you have had experience of this kind of thing, will you +tell me if you have ever seen a man completely recover--from +shell-shock, I mean?" + +"I should say you will be quite yourself again shortly. There cannot be +very much the matter with your nerves to have stood the experience of +the last few weeks. After we get you out of here, and you have had a +good rest, you will be yourself again." + +"And what about this other thing--this _furor epilepticus_, whatever it +is?" asked Penreath, anxiously. + +"As you didn't murder anybody, you haven't had the epileptic fury," +replied Colwyn, laughing. + +"But Sir Henry Durwood said at the trial that I was an epileptic," +persisted the other. + +"He was wrong about the _furor epilepticus_, so it is just as likely +that he was wrong about the epilepsy. His theory was that you were going +to attack somebody at the breakfast table of the hotel, and you have +just told us that you had no intention of attacking anybody--that your +only idea was to get out of the room. You are neither an epileptic nor +insane, in my opinion, but at that time you were suffering from the +after effects of shell-shock. Take my advice, and forget all about the +trial and what you heard there, or, if you must think of it, remember +the excellent certificate of sanity and clear-headedness which the +doctors for the Crown gave you! When you get free I'll take you to half +a dozen specialists who'll probably confirm the Crown point of view." + +Penreath laughed for the first time. + +"You've made me feel like a new man," he said. "How can I thank you for +all you have done?" + +"The only way you can show your gratitude is by instructing Mr. Oakham +to lodge an appeal for you--at once. Have you the necessary forms with +you, Mr. Oakham?" + +"I have," said the solicitor, finding voice after a long silence. + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + + +Mr. Oakham did not discuss what had taken place in the prison as he and +Colwyn drove to the office of the chief constable after the interview. +He sat silent in his corner of the taxi, his hands clasped before him, +and gazing straight in front of him with the look of a man who sees +nothing. From time to time his lips moved after the fashion of the old, +when immersed in thought, and once he audibly murmured, "The poor lad; +the poor lad." Colwyn forbore to speak to him. He realised that he had +had a shock, and was best left to himself. + +By the time the taxi reached the office of the chief constable Mr. +Oakham showed symptoms of regaining his self-possession. He felt for his +eye-glasses, polished them, placed them on his nose and glanced at his +watch. It was in something like his usual tones that he asked Colwyn, as +they alighted from the cab, whether he had an appointment with the chief +constable. + +"I wired to you both at the same time," replied the detective. "I asked +him to keep this afternoon free," he explained with a smile. + +A police constable in the outer office took in their names. He speedily +returned with the message that the chief constable would be glad to see +them, and would they step this way, please. Following in his wake, they +were conducted along a passage and into a large comfortably furnished +room, where Mr. Cromering was writing at a small table placed near a +large fire. He looked up as the visitors entered, put down his pen, and +came forward to greet them. + +"I am pleased to see you again, Mr. Colwyn, and you also, Mr. Oakham. +Please draw your chairs near the fire gentlemen--there's a decided nip +in the air. I got your telegram, Mr. Colwyn, and I am at your disposal, +with plenty of time. Your telegram rather surprised me. What has +happened in the Glenthorpe case?" + +"Fresh facts have come to light--facts that tend to prove the innocence +of Penreath, who was accused and convicted for the murder." + +"Dear me! This is a very grave statement. What proofs have you?" + +"Sufficient to warrant further steps in the case. It is a long story, +but I think when you have heard it you will feel justified in taking +prompt action." + +Before Mr. Cromering could reply, the police constable who had shown in +Colwyn and Mr. Oakham entered the room and said that Superintendent +Galloway, from Durrington, was outside. + +"Bring him in, Johnson," said Mr. Cromering. He turned to Colwyn and +added: "When I received your telegram I telephoned to Galloway and asked +him to be here this afternoon. As he worked up the case against +Penreath, I thought it better that he should be present and hear what +you have to say. You have no objection, I suppose?" + +"On the contrary, I shall be very glad for Galloway to hear what I have +to say." + +The police constable returned, ushering in Superintendent Galloway, who +looked rather surprised when he saw his superior officer's visitors. He +nodded briefly to Colwyn, and looked inquiringly at the chief constable. + +"Mr. Colwyn has discovered some fresh facts in the Glenthorpe murder, +Galloway," explained Mr. Cromering. "I sent for you in order that you +might hear what they are." + +"What sort of facts?" asked Galloway, with a quick glance at the +detective. + +"That is what Mr. Colwyn proposes to explain to us." + +"I shall have to go back to the beginning of our investigations to do +so--to the day when we motored from Durrington to Flegne," said the +detective. "We went there with the strong presumption in our minds that +Penreath was the criminal, because of suspicious facts previously known +about him. He was short of money, he had concealed his right name when +registering at the hotel, and his behaviour at the breakfast table the +morning of his departure suggested an unbalanced temperament. It is a +legal axiom that men's minds are influenced by facts previously known or +believed, and we set out to investigate this case under the strong +presumption that Penreath, and none other, was the murderer. + +"The evidence we found during our visit to the inn fitted in with this +theory, and inclined the police to shut out the possibility of any +alternative theory because of the number of concurrent points which +fitted in with the presumption that Penreath was the murderer. There +was, first, the fact that the murderer had entered through the window. +Penreath had been put to sleep in the room next the murdered man, in an +unoccupied part of the inn, and could easily have got from one window to +the other without being seen or heard. Next was the fact that the murder +had been committed with a knife with a round end. Penreath had used such +a knife when dining with Mr. Glenthorpe, and that knife was afterwards +missing. Next, we have him hurriedly departing from the inn soon after +daybreak, refusing to wait till his boots were cleaned, and paying his +bill with a Treasury note. + +"Then came the discovery of the footprints to the pit where the body had +been thrown, and those footprints were incontestably made by Penreath's +boots. The stolen notes suggested a strong motive in the case of a man +badly in need of money, and the payment of his bill with a Treasury note +of the first issue suggested--though not very strongly--that he had +given the servant one of the stolen notes. These were the main points in +the circumstantial evidence against Penreath. The stories of the +landlord of the inn, the deaf waiter, and the servant supported that +theory in varying degrees, and afforded an additional ground for the +credibility of the belief that Penreath was the murderer. The final and +most convincing proof--Penreath's silence under the accusation--does not +come into the narrative of events at this point, because he had not been +arrested. + +"It was when we visited the murdered man's bedroom that the first doubts +came to my mind as to the conclusiveness of the circumstantial evidence +against Penreath. The theory was that Penreath, after murdering Mr. +Glenthorpe, put the body on his shoulder, and carried it downstairs and +up the rise to the pit. The murderer entered through the window--the +bits of red mud adhering to the carpet prove that conclusively +enough--but if Penreath was the murderer where had he got the umbrella +with which he shielded himself from the storm? The fact that the +murderer carried an umbrella is proved by the discovery of a small patch +of umbrella silk which had got caught on a nail by the window. Again, +why should a man, getting from one window to another, bother about using +an umbrella for a journey of a few feet only? He would know that he +could not use it when carrying the body to the pit, for that task would +require both his hands. And what had Penreath done with the umbrella +afterwards? + +"The clue of the umbrella silk, and the pool of water near the window +where the murderer placed the umbrella after getting into the room, +definitely fixed the time of the murder between eleven and 11.30 p.m., +because the violent rainstorm on that night ceased at the latter hour. +If Penreath was the murderer, he waited until the storm ceased before +removing the body. There were no footprints outside the window where the +murderer got in, because they were obliterated by the rain. On the other +hand, the footsteps to the pit where the body was thrown were clear and +distinct, proving conclusively that no rain fell after the murderer left +the house with his burden. It seemed to me unlikely that a man after +committing a murder would coolly sit down beside his victim and wait for +the rain to cease before disposing of the body. His natural instinct +would be to hide the evidence of his crime as quickly as possible. + +"These points, however, were of secondary importance, merely tending to +shake slightly what lawyers term the probability of the case against +Penreath. But a point of more importance was my discovery that the +candle-grease dropped on the carpet was of two different kinds--wax and +tallow--suggesting that two different persons were in the room on the +night of the murder. Mr. Glenthorpe did not use a candle, but a reading +lamp. Neither did Mr. Glenthorpe use the gas globe in the middle of the +room. Yet that gas tap was turned on slightly when we examined the room, +and the globe and the incandescent burner smashed. Who turned on the +tap, and who smashed the globe? Penreath is not tall enough to have +struck it with his head. Superintendent Galloway's theory was that it +might have been done by the murderer when throwing the body of his +victim over his shoulder. + +"An ideal case of circumstantial evidence may be weakened, but not +destroyed, by the destruction of one or more of the collateral facts +which go to make it up. There are two kinds of circumstantial evidence. +In one kind presumption of guilt depends on a series of links forming a +chain. In the other, the circumstances are woven together like the +strands of a rope. That is the ideal case of circumstantial evidence, +because the rope still holds when some of the strands are severed. The +case against Penreath struck me as resembling a chain, which is no +stronger than its weakest link. The strongest link in the chain of +circumstances against Penreath was the footprints leading to the pit. +They had undoubtedly been made by his boots, but circumstances can lie +as well as witnesses, and in both cases the most plausible sometimes +prove the greatest liars. Take away the clue of the footprints, and the +case against Penreath was snapped in the most vital link. The remaining +circumstances in the case against him, though suspicious enough, were +open to an alternative explanation. The footprints were the damning +fact--the link on which the remaining links of the chain were hung. + +"But the elimination of the clue of the footprints did not make the +crime any easier of solution. From the moment I set foot in the room it +struck me as a deep and baffling mystery, looking at it from the point +of view of the police theory or from any other hypothesis. If Penreath +had indeed committed the murder, who was the second visitor to the room? +And if Penreath had not committed the murder, who had? + +"That night, in my room, I sought to construct two alternative theories +of the murder. In the first place, I examined the case thoroughly from +the police point of view, with Penreath as the murderer. In view of what +has come to light since the trial, there is no need to take up time with +giving you my reasons for doubting whether Penreath had committed the +crime. I explained those reasons to Superintendent Galloway at the time, +pointing out, as he will doubtless remember, that the police theory +struck me as illogical in some aspects, and far from convincing as a +whole. There were too many elements of uncertainty in it, too much +guess-work, too much jumping at conclusions. Take one point alone, on +which I laid stress at the time. The police theory originally started +from the point of Penreath's peculiar behaviour at the Durrington hotel, +which, from their point of view, suggested homicidal mania. To my mind, +there was no evidence to prove this, although that theory was actually +put forth by the defence at Penreath's trial. I witnessed the scene at +the breakfast table, and, in my opinion, Sir Henry Durwood acted hastily +and wrongly in rushing forward and seizing Penreath. There was nothing +in his behaviour that warranted it. He was a little excited, and nothing +more, and from what I have heard since he had reason to be excited. +Neither at the breakfast table nor in his room subsequently did his +actions strike me as the actions of a man of insane, neurotic, or +violent temperament. He was simply suffering from nerves. It is +important to remember, in recalling the events which led up to this +case, that Penreath was invalided out of the Army suffering from +shell-shock, and that two nights before the scene at the hotel there was +an air raid at Durrington. Shell-shock victims are always prejudicially +affected by air raids. + +"Even if the police theory had been correct on this point, it seemed +inconceivable to me that a man affected with homicidal tendencies would +have displayed such cold-blooded caution and cunning in carrying out a +murder for gain, as the murderer at the _Golden Anchor_ did. The Crown +dropped this point at the trial. I merely mention it now in support of +my contention that the case of circumstantial evidence against Penreath +was by no means a strong one, because it originally depended, in part, +on inferred facts which the premises did not warrant. + +"Next, the discoveries made in the room where the murder was committed, +and certain other indications found outside, did not fit in with the +police case against Penreath. Superintendent Galloway's reconstruction +of the crime, after he had seen the body and examined the inn premises, +did not account for the existence of all the facts. There were +circumstances and clues which were not consistent with the police theory +of the murder. The probability of the inference that Penreath was the +murderer was not increased by the discoveries we made. I am aware that +absolute proof is not essential to conviction in a case of +circumstantial evidence, but, on the other hand, to ignore facts which +do not accord with a theory is to go to the other extreme, for by so +doing you are in danger of excluding the possibility of any alternative +theory. + +"On the other hand, when I sought to account for the crime by any other +hypothesis I found myself puzzled at every turn. The presence of two +persons in the room was the baffling factor. The murderer had entered +through the window in the storm, lighted the tallow candle which he +brought with him, walked straight to the bed and committed the murder. +Then he had waited till the rain ceased before carrying the body +downstairs to the pit. But what about the second person--the person who +had carried the wax candle and dropped spots of grease underneath the +broken gas globe? Had he come in at a different time, and why? Why had +he sought to light the gas, when he carried a candle? Why had he--as I +subsequently ascertained--left the room and gone downstairs to turn on +the gas at the meter? + +"Eliminating Penreath for the time being, I tried next to fit in the +clues I had discovered with two alternative theories. Had the murder +been committed from outside by a villager, or by somebody in the inn? +There were possibilities about the former theory which I pointed out to +Superintendent Galloway, who subsequently investigated them, and +declared that there was no ground for the theory that the murder had +been committed from outside. The theory that the murder had been +committed by somebody inside the inn turned my attention to the inmates +of the inn. Excluding Penreath for the time being, there were five +inmates inside the walls the night the murder was committed--the +innkeeper, his daughter, his mother, the waiter, and Ann, the servant. +The girl could hardly have committed the murder, and could certainly not +have carried away the body. The old mad woman might have committed the +murder if she could have got out of her room, but she could not have +carried the body to the pit--neither could the servant. By this process +of elimination there remained the landlord and the deaf waiter. + +"For a reason which it is not necessary to explain now, my thoughts +turned to the waiter when I first saw the body of the murdered man. The +possibility that he was the murderer was strengthened by the slight clue +of the line in the clay which I found underneath the murdered man's +bedroom window. That window is about five feet from the ground outside, +and the waiter, who is short and stout, could not have climbed through +the window without something to stand on. But the waiter could not +possibly have carried the body to the pit. His right arm is malformed, +and only a very strong man, with two strong arms, could have performed +that feat. + +"There remained the innkeeper. He was the only person on the inn +premises that night, except Penreath, who could have carried the corpse +downstairs and thrown it into the pit. Although thin, I should say he is +a man of great physical strength. It is astonishing to think, in looking +back over all the circumstances of this extraordinary case, that some +suspicion was not diverted to him in the first instance. He was very +hard-pressed for money, and he knew for days beforehand that Mr. +Glenthorpe was going to draw £300 from the bank--a circumstance that +Penreath could not possibly have known when he sought chance shelter at +the inn that night. He was the only person in the place tall enough to +have smashed the gas globe and incandescent burner in Mr. Glenthorpe's +room by striking his head against it. He knew the run of the place and +the way to the pit intimately--far better than a stranger like Penreath +could. I was struck with that fact when we were examining the +footprints. The undeviating course from the inn to the mouth of the pit +suggested an intimate acquaintance with the way. The man who carried the +body to the pit in the darkness knew every inch of the ground. + +"It is easy to be wise after the event, but my thoughts and suspicions +were centering more and more around the innkeeper when Penreath was +arrested. His attitude altered the whole aspect of the case. His +hesitating answers to me in the wood, his fatalistic acceptance of the +charge against him, seemed to me equivalent to a confession of guilt, +so I abandoned my investigations and returned to Durrington. + +"I was wrong. It was a mistake for which I find it difficult to forgive +myself. Penreath's hesitation, his silence--what were they in the +balance of probabilities in such a strange deep crime as this murder? In +view of the discoveries I had already made--discoveries which pointed to +a most baffling mystery--I should not have allowed myself to be swerved +from my course by Penreath's silence in the face of accusation, +inexplicable though it appeared at the time. You know what happened +subsequently. Penreath, persisting in his silence, was tried, convicted, +and sentenced to death--because of that silence, which compelled the +defence to rely on a defence of insanity which they could not sustain. + +"I went back to the inn a second time, not of my own volition, but +because of a story told me by the innkeeper's daughter, Peggy, at +Durrington four days ago. The night before the inquest Peggy paid a +visit to the room in which the murdered man lay. I did not see her go +in, but I saw her come out. She went downstairs and hurried across the +marshes and threw something into the sea from the top of the breakwater. +The following day, after Penreath's arrest, I questioned her. She gave +me an explanation which was hardly plausible, but Penreath's silence, +coming after the accumulation of circumstances against him, had caused +me to look at the case from a different angle, and I did not +cross-examine her. The object of her visit to me after the trial was to +admit that she had not told me the truth previously. Her amended story +was obviously the true one. She and Penreath had met by chance on the +seashore near Leyland Hoop two or three weeks before, and had met +secretly afterward. The subsequent actions of these two foolish young +people prove, convincingly enough, that they had fallen passionately in +love with each other. Peggy, however, had never told Penreath her name +or where she lived--because she knew her position was different from +his, she says--and she could not understand how he came to be at the inn +that night. Naturally, she was very much perturbed at his unexpected +appearance. She waited for an opportunity to speak to him after hearing +his voice, but was compelled to attend on her mad grandmother until it +was very late. + +"Before going to bed she went down the passage to see if by any chance +he had not retired. There was a light in Mr. Glenthorpe's room, and, +acting on a sudden girlish impulse, she ran along the passage to Mr. +Glenthorpe's door, intending to confide her troubles in one who had +always been very good and kind to her. The door was partly open, and as +she got no reply to her knock, she entered. Mr. Glenthorpe was lying on +his bed, murdered, and on the floor--at the side of the bed--she found +the knife and this silver and enamel match-box. She hid the knife behind +a picture on the wall. She did a very plucky thing the following night +by going into the dead man's room and removing the knife in order to +prevent the police finding it, for by that time she was aware that the +knife formed an important piece of evidence in the case against her +lover. It was the knife she threw into the sea, but she kept the +match-box, which she recognised as Penreath's. When she came to me she +did not intend to tell me anything about the match-box if she could help +it. She was frank enough up to a point, but beyond that point she did +not want to go. + +"After Penreath's conviction she began, womanlike, to wonder if she had +not been too hasty in assuming his guilt, and as the time slipped by and +brought the day of his doom nearer she grew desperate, and as a last +resource she came to me. It was a good thing she did so. For her story, +though apparently making the case against Penreath blacker still, +incidentally brought to light a clue which threw a new light on the case +and decided me to return to Flegne. That clue is contained in the +match-box." + + + +CHAPTER XXV + + +Colwyn opened the silver and enamel box, and emptied the matches on the +table. + +"I showed this match-box to Charles on my return to the inn, and he told +me that Penreath used it in the upstairs sitting-room the night he dined +there with Mr. Glenthorpe. Therefore, it is a reasonable deduction to +assume that he had no other matches in his possession the night of the +murder. + +"This fact is highly significant, because the matches in Penreath's +silver box are, as you see, blue-headed wax matches, whereas the matches +struck in Mr. Glenthorpe's room on the night of the murder were of an +entirely different description--wooden matches with pink heads, of +British manufacture--so-called war matches, with cork pine sticks. The +sticks of these matches break rather easily unless they are held near +the head. Two broken fragments of this description of match, with +unlighted heads, were found in Mr. Glenthorpe's room the morning after +the murder. Superintendent Galloway picked up one by the foot of the +bed, and I picked up the other under the broken gas-globe. The recovery +of Penreath's match-box in the murdered man's room suggested several +things. In the first place, if he had no other matches in his possession +except those in his silver and enamel box, he was neither the murderer +nor the second person who visited the room that night. But if my +deduction about the matches was correct, how was it that his match-box +was found in the murdered man's room? The inference is that Penreath +left his match-box in the dining room after lighting his candle before +going to bed, and the murderer found it and took it into Mr. +Glenthorpe's bedroom to point suspicion towards Penreath. + +"This fact opened up a new possibility about the crime--the possibility +that Penreath was the victim of a conspiracy. When we were examining the +footprints which led to the pit, the possibility of somebody else having +worn Penreath's boots occurred to me, because I have seen that trick +worked before, but the servant's story suggested that Penreath did not +put his boots outside his door to be cleaned, but came to the door with +them in his hand in the morning. But Penreath told me this morning that +he put out his boots overnight to be cleaned, but had taken them back +into his room before Ann brought up his tea. The murderer, therefore, +had ample opportunity to use them for his purpose of carrying the body +to the pit and to put them back afterwards outside Penreath's door. + +"But Peggy's belated admissions did more than suggest that Penreath was +the victim of a sinister plot--they narrowed down the range of persons +by whom it could have been contrived. The plotter was not only an inmate +of the inn, but somebody who had seen the match box and knew that it +belonged to Penreath. + +"I returned to Flegne to resume the investigations I had broken off +nearly three weeks before, and from that point my discoveries were very +rapid, all tending to throw suspicion on Benson. The first indication +was the outcome of a remark of mine about his height, and the broken gas +light in Mr. Glenthorpe's bedroom. It was purely a chance shot, but it +threw him into a pitiable state of excitement. I let him think, however, +that it was nothing more than a chance remark. That night I was put to +sleep in Penreath's room, and there I made two discoveries. The first +was the existence of a small door, behind the wardrobe, opening on a +corresponding door on the other side, which in its turn opens into Mr. +Glenthorpe's room. Thus it would be possible for a person in the room +Penreath occupied, discovering these doors as I did, to see into the +next bedroom--under certain conditions. My second discovery was the +outcome of my first discovery--I picked up underneath the wardrobe a +fragment of an appealing letter which Penreath had commenced to write to +his fiancée, and had subsequently torn up. It was a long time before I +grasped the full significance of these two discoveries. Why should a +man, after writing a letter of appeal to his fiancée, decide not to send +it and destroy it? The most probable reason was that something had +happened to cause him to change his mind. What could have happened to +change the conditions so quickly? The hidden doors in the wall, which +looked into the next room, supplied an answer to the question. Penreath +had looked through, and seen--what? My first thought was that he had +seen the murder committed, but that theory did not account for the +destruction of the letter, and his silence when arrested, unless, +indeed, the girl had committed the murder. The girl--Peggy! It came to +me like a flash, the solution of the strangest aspect of this puzzling +case--the reason why Penreath maintained his dogged silence under an +accusation of murder. + +"It came to me, the clue for which I had been groping, with the +recollection of a phrase in the girl's story to me--her second story--in +which she not only told me of her efforts to shield Penreath, but +revealed frankly to me her relations with Penreath, innocent enough, but +commenced in chance fashion, and continued by clandestine meetings in +lonely spots. I remembered when she told me about it all that I was +impressed by Penreath's absolute straightforwardness in his dealings +with this girl. He was open and sincere with her throughout, gave her +his real name, and told her much about himself: his family, his +prospects, and even his financial embarrassment. He went further than +that: he told her that he was engaged to be married, and that if he +could get free he would marry her. A young man who talks in this strain +is very much in love. The artless story of Peggy revealed that Penreath +was as much in love with the girl as she was with him. 'If he could get +free!' That was the phrase that gave me the key to the mystery. He had +set out to get free by writing to Miss Willoughby, breaking off his +engagement. Later he had torn up the letter because through the door in +the wall he had seen Peggy standing by the bedside of the murdered man, +and had come to the conclusion that she had murdered him. + +"If you think it a little strange that Penreath should have jumped to +this conclusion about the woman he loved, you must remember the +circumstances were unusual. Peggy had surrounded herself with mystery; +she refused to tell her lover where she lived, she would not even tell +him her name. When he looked into the room he did not even know she was +in the house, because she had kept out of his way during the previous +evening, waiting for an opportunity to see him alone. Consequently he +experienced a great shock at the sight of her, and the mystery with +which she had always veiled her identity and movements recurred to him +with a terrible and sinister significance as he saw her again under such +damning conditions, standing by the bedside of the dead man with a knife +in her hand. + +"Penreath's subsequent actions--his destruction of the letter he had +written to Miss Willoughby, his hurried departure from the inn, and his +silence in the face of accusation--are all explained by the fact that he +saw the girl Peggy in the next room, and believed that she had committed +this terrible crime. + +"I now come to the clues which point directly to Benson's complicity in +the murder. I have already told you of his alarm at my chance remark +about his height and the smashed gas globe. You also know that he was in +need of money. The next point is rather a curious one. When Benson was +telling us his story the day after the murder I observed that he kept +smoothing his long hair down on his forehead. There was something in the +action that suggested more than a mannerism. The night after I +discovered the door in the wall, I left it open in order to watch the +next room. During the night Benson entered and searched the dead man's +chamber. I do not know what he was looking for--he did not find it, +whatever it was--but during the search he grew hot, and threw back his +hair from his forehead, revealing a freshly healed scar on his temple. +The reason he had worn his hair low was explained: he wanted to hide +from us the fact that it was he who had smashed the gas-globe in Mr. +Glenthorpe's room, and had cut his head by the accident. + +"But his visit to the dead man's room revealed more than the scar on his +forehead. How did Benson get into the room? The room had been kept +locked since the murder. That night I had taken the key from a hook on +the kitchen dresser in order to examine the room when the inmates of the +place had retired. Benson, therefore, had let himself in with another +key. This was our first knowledge of another key. Hitherto we had +believed that the only key was the one found in the outside of the door +the morning after the murder. The police theory is partly based on that +supposition. Benson's possession of a second key, and his silence +concerning it, point strongly to his complicity in the crime. He knew +that Mr. Glenthorpe was accustomed to lock his door and carry the key +about with him, so he obtained another key in order to have access to +the room whenever he desired. There would have been nothing in this if +he had told his household about it. A second key would have been useful +to the servant when she wanted to arrange Mr. Glenthorpe's room. But +Benson kept the existence of the second key a close secret. He said +nothing about it when we questioned him concerning the key in the door. +An innocent man would have immediately informed us that there was a +second key to the room. Benson kept silence because he had something to +hide. + +"I now come to the events of the next morning. My investigation of the +rise and the pit during the afternoon had led to a discovery which +subsequently suggested to my mind that the missing money had been hidden +in the pit. I determined to try and descend it. I arose before daybreak, +as I did not wish any of the inmates of the inn to see me. Before going +to the pit I got out of the window and into the window of the next room, +as Penreath is supposed to have done. That experiment brought to light +another small point in Penreath's favour. The drop from the first window +is an awkward one--more than eight feet--and my heels made a deep +indentation in the soft red clay underneath the window. If Penreath had +dropped from the window, even in his stocking feet, the marks of his +heels ought to have been visible. There was not enough rain after the +murder was committed to obliterate them entirely. There were no such +marks under his window when we examined the ground the morning after +the murder. + +"I next proceeded to the rise and lowered myself down the pit by the +creepers inside. About ten feet down the vegetable growth ceased, and +the further descent was impossible without ropes. But at the limit of +the distance to which a man can climb down unaided, I saw a peg sticking +into the side of the pit, with a fishing line suspended from it. I drew +up the line, and found attached to it the murdered man's pocket-book +containing the £300 he had drawn out of the bank at Heathfield the day +he was murdered. + +"Let me now try to reconstruct the crime in the light of the fresh +information we have gained. Benson was in desperate straits for money, +and he knew that Mr. Glenthorpe had drawn £300 from the bank that +morning, all in small notes, which could not be traced. The fact that he +obtained a second key to the room suggests that he had been meditating +the act for some time past. It will be found, I think, when all the +facts are brought to light, that he obtained the second key when he +learnt that Mr. Glenthorpe intended to take a large sum of money out of +the bank. Penreath's chance arrival at the inn on the day that the money +was drawn out, probably set him thinking of the possibility of murdering +and robbing Mr. Glenthorpe in circumstances that would divert suspicion +to the stranger. Penreath unconsciously helped him by leaving his +match-box in the room where he had dined with Mr. Glenthorpe. Benson +found the match-box on looking into the room to see that everything was +all right when his guests had retired, and determined to commit the +murder that night, and leave it by the murdered man's bedside, as a clue +to direct attention to Penreath. His next idea, to murder Mr. +Glenthorpe with the knife which Penreath had used at dinner, probably +occurred to him as he considered the possibilities of the match-box. + +"It is difficult to decide why Benson chose to enter the room from the +window instead of by the door when he had a second key of the room. He +may have attempted to open the door with the key, and found that Mr. +Glenthorpe had locked the door and left the key on the inside. Or he may +have thought that as Penreath was sleeping in the next room, he ran too +great a risk of discovery by entering from the door, and so decided to +enter by the window. We must presume that Benson subsequently found Mr. +Glenthorpe's key, either inside the door or under his pillow, and kept +it. He entered the window, stabbed Mr. Glenthorpe, and placed the +match-box and the knife at the side of the bed. His next act would be to +search for the money. Finding it difficult to search by the light of the +tallow candle, he decided to go downstairs and turn on the gas. + +"During his absence Peggy entered the room, saw the dead body, and +picked up the knife and the match-box. Then she picked up the +candlestick by the bed, and fled in terror. Benson, after turning on the +gas at the meter, returned to find the room in darkness. Thinking that +the wind had blown out the candle, he walked to the gas with the +intention of lighting it. In doing so he knocked his head against the +globe, cutting his forehead, and smashing the incandescent burner. + +"Benson, when he found that the candlestick had disappeared must, in his +fright, have rushed downstairs for another. He could not light the gas, +because he had smashed the burner. In no other way can I account for the +second lot of candle-grease that I found in the room underneath the +gas-light, which made me believe at first that the room had been +visited by two persons on the night of the murder. There _were_ two +persons, Benson and his daughter, but Peggy did not bring a candlestick +into the room. It looks to me as though Benson, on returning with the +second candle, attempted to light the gas with it and failed. That +action would account for the gas tap being turned on, and the spilt +grease directly underneath. He then searched the room till he found the +pocket-book containing the money. + +"The subsequent removal of the body to the pit strikes me as an +afterthought. The complete plan was too diabolically ingenious and +complete to have formed in the murderer's mind at the outset. The man +who put the match-box and knife by the bedside of the murdered man in +order to divert suspicion to Penreath had no thought, at that stage, of +removing the body. That idea came afterwards, probably when he went +upstairs the second time with the lighted candle, and saw Penreath's +boots outside the door. I cannot help thinking that the clue of the +footprints, which was such a damning point in the case against Penreath, +was quite an accidental one so far as the murderer was concerned. The +thought that the boots would leave footprints which would subsequently +be identified as Penreath's was altogether too subtle to have occurred +to a man like Benson. That is the touch of a master criminal--of a much +higher order of criminal brain than Benson's. + +"It is my belief that he originally intended to leave the murdered man +in his room, thinking that the match-box and knife would point suspicion +to Penreath. But after killing Mr. Glenthorpe he was overcome with the +fear that his guilt would be discovered, in spite of his precautions to +throw suspicions on another man, and he decided to throw the body into +the pit in the hope that the crime would never be found out. The fact +that he had entered the room in his stocking feet supports this theory, +because he would be well aware that he would not be able to carry the +body over several hundred yards of rough ground in his bare feet. He +took Penreath's boots, which were close at hand, in preference to the +danger and delay which he would have incurred in going to his own room, +some distance away, for his own boots. Having put on the boots, he took +the body on his shoulders and conveyed it to the pit. + +"There are two or three points in this case which I am unable to clear +up to my complete satisfaction. Why did Benson leave the key in the +outside of the door? Was it merely one of those mistakes--those +oversights--which all murderers are liable to commit, or did he do it +deliberately, in the hope of conveying the impression that Mr. +Glenthorpe had gone out and left the key in the outside of the door. In +the next place, I cannot account for the mark of the box underneath the +window. There is a third point--the direction of the wound in the +murdered man's body, which gave me some ideas at the time that I am now +compelled to dismiss as erroneous. But these are points that I hope will +be cleared up by Benson's arrest, and confession, for I am convinced, by +my observation of the man, that he will confess. + +"There are one or two more points. Benson is an ardent fisherman, who +spends all his spare time fishing on the marshes. The stolen pocket-book +was suspended in the pit by a piece of fishing line. But I attach more +importance to the second point, which is that since the murder has been +committed the nightly conversation at the inn tap-room has centred +around a local ghost, known as the White Lady of the Shrieking Pit, who +is supposed from time immemorial to have haunted the pit where the body +was thrown, and to bring death to anybody who encounters her at night. +This spectre, which is profoundly believed in by the villagers, had not +been seen for at least two years before the murder, but she made a +reappearance a night or two after the crime, and is supposed to have +been seen frequently ever since. It looks to me as though Benson set the +story going again in order to keep the credulous villagers away from the +pit where the money was concealed. + +"This morning, in company with Mr. Oakham, I saw Penreath in the gaol, +and by a ruse induced him to break his stubborn silence. His story, +which it is not necessary for me to give you in detail, testifies to his +innocence, and supports my own theory of the crime. He did not see the +murder committed, but he saw the girl go into the room, and subsequently +he saw her father enter and remove the body. It was the latter spectacle +that robbed him of any lingering doubts he may have had of the girl's +guilt, and forced him to the conclusion that she and her father were +accomplices in the crime. But he loved her so much that he determined to +keep silence and shield her." + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + + +"This is a remarkable story, Mr. Colwyn," said the chief constable, +breaking the rather lengthy silence which followed the conclusion of the +detective's reconstruction of the crime. "It has been quite entrancing +to listen to your syllogistical skill. You would have made an excellent +Crown Prosecutor." The chief constable's official mind could conceive no +higher compliment. "Your statements seem almost too incredible for +belief, but undoubtedly you have made out a case for the further +investigation of this crime. What do you think, Galloway?" + +"The question, to my mind, is what Mr. Colwyn's discoveries really +represent," replied Galloway. "He has built up a very ingenious and +plausible reconstruction, but let us discard mere theory, and stick to +the facts. What do they amount to? Apart from Penreath's statement in +the gaol that he saw the body carried down stairs----" + +"You can leave that out of the question," said the detective curtly. "My +reconstruction of the crime is independent of Penreath's testimony, +which is open to the objection that it should have been made before." + +"Exactly what I was going to point out," rejoined Galloway bluntly. +"Well, then, let us examine the fresh facts. There are five as I see +them. The recovery of Penreath's match-box, the discovery of the door +between the two rooms, the wound on the innkeeper's forehead, the +additional key, and the finding of the pocket-book in the pit. Exclude +the idea of conspiracy, and the recovery of the match-box becomes an +additional point against Penreath, because it strikes me as guess work +to assume that he had no other matches in his possession except that +particular box and the loose one he found in his vest pocket. Smokers +frequently carry two or three boxes of matches. The discovery of the +hidden door is interesting, but has no direct bearing on the crime. The +wound on the innkeeper's head looks suspicious, but there is no proof +that it was caused by his knocking his head against the gas globe in the +murdered man's room on the night of the murder. As Mr. Colwyn himself +has pointed out, there is not much in Benson having a second key of +Glenthorpe's room. Many hotel-keepers and innkeepers keep duplicate keys +of bedrooms. The significance of this discovery is that Benson kept +silence about the existence of this key. Undoubtedly he should have told +us about it, but I am not prepared to accept, offhand, that his silence +was the silence of a guilty man. He may have kept silence regarding it +through a foolish fear of directing suspicion to himself. That theory +seems to me quite as probable as Mr. Colwyn's theory. There remains the +recovery of the money in the pit. In considering that point I find it +impossible to overlook that Penreath returned to the wood after making +his escape. That suggests, to my mind, that he hid the money in the pit +himself, and took the risk of returning in order to regain possession of +it." + +"You are worthier of the chief constable's compliment than I, my dear +Galloway," said Colwyn genially. "Your gift of overcoming points which +tell against you by ignoring them, and your careful avoidance of +tell-tale inferences, would make you an ideal Crown Prosecutor." + +"I don't believe in inferences in crime," replied Galloway, flushing +under the detective's sarcasm. "I am a plain man, and I like to stick to +facts." + +"What was the whole of your case against Penreath but a series of +inferences?" retorted Colwyn. "Circumstantial evidence, and the +circumstances on which you depended in this case, were never fully +established. Furthermore, your facts were not consistent with your +original hypothesis, and had to be altered when the case went to trial. +Now that I have discovered other facts and inferences which are +consistent with another hypothesis, you strive to shut your eyes to +them, or draw wrong conclusions from them. Your suggestion that Penreath +must have hidden the money in the pit because he was arrested near it is +a choice example of false deduction based on the wrong premise that +Penreath hid the money there on the night of the murder. He could not +have done so because he had no rope, and how was he, a stranger to the +place, to know that the inside of the pit was covered with creeping +plants of sufficient strength to bear a man's weight? The choice of the +pit as a hiding place for the money argues an intimate local knowledge." + +"You have not yet told us how you came to deduce that the money was in +the pit," said Mr. Cromering, who had been examining the pocket-book and +money. + +"While I was examining the mouth of the pit the previous afternoon I +found this piece of paper at the brink, trodden into the clay. Later on +I recognised the peculiar watermark of waving lines as the Government +watermark in the first issue of Treasury war notes. From that I deduced +that the money was hidden in the pit. It was all in Treasury notes, as +you see." + +"I'm afraid I don't quite follow you now," said the chief constable, +with a puzzled glance at the piece of dirty paper in his hand. "This +piece of paper is not a Treasury note." + +"Not now, perhaps, but it was once," said the detective with a smile. +"It puzzled me at first. I could not account for the Treasury watermark, +designed to prevent forgery of the notes, appearing on a piece of blank +paper. Then it came to me. The first issue of Treasury notes were very +badly printed. Ordinary black ink was used, which would disappear if the +note was immersed in water. It was an official at Somerset House who +told me this. He informed me that they had several cases of munition +workers who, after being paid in Treasury notes, had put them into the +pockets of their overalls, and forgotten about them until the overalls +came back from the wash with every vestige of printing washed out from +the notes, leaving nothing but the watermarks. It occurred to me that +the same thing had happened in this case. The murderer, when about to +descend to the pit to conceal the money, had accidentally dropped a note +and trodden it underfoot, and it had lain out in the open exposed to +heavy rains and dew until every scrap of printing was obliterated." + +"By Jove, that's very clever, very clever indeed!" exclaimed Galloway. +He picked up a magnifying glass which was lying on the table, and +closely examined the dirty piece of white paper which Colwyn had found +at the mouth of the pit. "It was once a Treasury note, sure enough--the +watermark is unmistakable. You've scored a point there that I couldn't +have made, and I'm man enough to own up to it. You see more deeply into +things than I do, Mr. Colwyn. And I'm willing to admit that you've made +some new and interesting discoveries about this case, though in my +opinion you are inclined to read too much into them. But I certainly +think they ought to be investigated further. If Penreath's statement to +you this morning is true, Benson is the murderer, and there has been a +miscarriage of justice. But what makes me doubt the truth of it is +Penreath's refusal to speak before. I mistrust confessions made out at +the last moment. And his explanation that he kept silence to save the +girl strikes me as rather thin. It is too quixotic." + +"There is more than that in it," replied Colwyn. "He had a double +motive. Penreath heard Sir Henry Durwood depose at the trial that he +believed him to be suffering from epilepsy." + +"How does that constitute a second motive?" + +"In this way. Penreath has a highly-strung, introspective temperament. +He went to the front from a high sense of duty, but he was +temperamentally unfit for the ghastly work of modern warfare, and broke +down under the strain. Men like Penreath feel it keenly when they are +discharged through shell-shock. They feel that the carefully hidden +weaknesses of their temperaments have been dragged out into the light of +day, and imagine they have been branded as cowards in the eyes of their +fellow men. I suspect that the real reason why Penreath left London and +sought refuge in Norfolk under another name was because he had been +discharged from the Army through shell-shock. He wanted to get away from +London and hide himself from those who knew him. To his wounded spirit +the condolences of his friends would be akin to taunts and sneers. When +Sir Henry Durwood questioned him he was careful to conceal the fact that +he had been a victim of shell-shock. As a matter of fact, Penreath's +behaviour in the breakfast room that morning was nothing more than the +effects of the air raid on his disordered nerves, but he would sooner +have died than admit that to strangers. After listening to the evidence +for the defence at the trial, he came to the conclusion that he was an +epileptic as well as a neurasthenic. He might well believe that life +held little for him in these circumstances, and that conviction would +strengthen him in his determination to sacrifice his life as a thing of +little value for the girl he loved." + +"If that is true he must be a very manly young fellow," said the chief +constable. + +"Supposing it is true, what is to be done?" asked Galloway, earnestly. +"Penreath has been tried and convicted for the murder." + +"The conviction will be upset on appeal," replied the detective +decisively. + +"But I do not see that carries us much further forward as regards +Benson," persisted Galloway. "If he is the murderer, as you say, he will +clear out as soon as he hears that Penreath is appealing." + +"He will not be able to clear out if you arrest him." + +"On what grounds? I cannot arrest him for a murder for which another man +has been sentenced to death." + +"True. But you can arrest him as accessory after the fact, on the ground +that he carried the body downstairs and threw it into the pit." + +"And suppose he denies having done so? Look here, Mr. Colwyn, I want to +help you all I can, but if I have made one mistake, I do not want to +make a second one. Frankly, I do not know what to think of your story. +It may be true, or it may not. But speaking from a police point of view, +we have mighty little to go on if we arrest Benson. If he likes to bluff +us we may find ourselves in an awkward position. Nobody saw him commit +the murder." + +"I realise the truth of what you say because I thought it all over +before coming to see you," replied Colwyn. "If Benson denies the truth +of the points I have discovered against him, or gives them a different +interpretation, it may be difficult to prove them. But he will not--he +will confess all he knows." + +"What makes you think so?" + +"Because his nerve has gone. If I had confronted him that night when I +saw him in the room I would have got the whole truth from him." + +"Why did you not do so?" + +"Because I had not the power to detain him. I am merely a private +detective, and can neither arrest a man nor threaten him with arrest. +That is why I have come to you. You, with the powers of the law behind +you, can frighten Benson into a confession much more effectually than I +could." + +"I don't half like it," grumbled Galloway. "There's a risk about it----" + +"It's a risk that must be taken, nevertheless." It was Mr. Cromering who +intervened in the discussion between the two, and he spoke with unusual +decision. "I agree with Mr. Colwyn that this is the best course to +pursue. I will go with you and take full responsibility, Galloway." + +"There is no need for that," said Galloway quickly. "I am quite willing +to go." + +"I will accompany you and Mr. Colwyn. It has been a remarkable case +throughout, and I want to see the end--if this is the end. I feel keenly +interested in this young man's fate." + +"I should like to go also, but an engagement prevents me," said Mr. +Oakham. "I am quite content to leave Penreath's interests in Mr. +Colwyn's capable hands." He rose as he spoke, and held out his hand to +the detective. "We have all been in error, but you have saved us from +having an irreparable wrong on our consciences. I cannot forgive myself +for my blindness. Perhaps you will acquaint me with the result of your +visit when you return. I shall be anxious to know." + +"I will not fail to do so," replied Colwyn, grasping the solicitor's +hand. "We had better catch the five o'clock train to Heathfield and walk +across to Flegne," he added, turning to the others. "It will be as quick +as motoring across, and the sound of the car might put Benson on his +guard. We want to take him unawares." + +"He'll have got wind of something already if he finds the pocket-book +gone," said Galloway. "He may have bolted while we have been talking +over things here." + +"I've seen to that," replied the detective. "I tied my own pocket-book +to the fishing line in the pit, and left Queensmead watching the pit. If +Benson tries to escape with my pocket-book Queensmead will arrest him +for robbery. I've made a complaint of the loss." + +"You haven't left much to chance," replied Galloway, with a grim smile. + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + + +It was characteristic of Mr. Cromering to beguile the long walk in the +dark from Heathfield Station by discussing Colwyn's theory that Benson +had circulated the reappearance of the White Lady of the Shrieking Pit +in order to keep the villagers away from the place where the stolen +money was hidden. Mr. Cromering had been much impressed--he said +so--with the logical skill and masterly deductive powers by which Colwyn +had reconstructed the hidden events of the night of the murder, like an +Owen reconstructing the extinct moa from a single bone, but he was loath +to accept that part of the theory which seemed to throw doubt on the +authenticity of a famous venerable Norfolk legend which had at least two +hundred years of tradition behind it. + +Mr. Cromering, without going so far as to affirm his personal belief in +the story, declared that there were several instances extant of +enlightened and educated people who had seen the ghost, and had suffered +an untimely end in consequence. He cited the case of a visiting +magistrate, who had been visiting in the district some twenty years ago, +and knew nothing about the legend. He was riding through Flegne one +night, and heard dismal shrieks from the wood on the rise. Thinking +somebody was in need of help, he dismounted from his horse, and went up +to the rise to investigate. As he neared the pit the White Lady appeared +from the pit and looked at him with inexpressibly sad eyes, drew her +hand thrice across her throat, and disappeared again in the pit. The +magistrate was greatly startled at what he had seen, and related the +experience to his host when he got home. The latter did not tell him of +the tragic significance which was attached to the apparition, but the +magistrate cut his throat three days after his return to London. +"Surely, _that_ was more than a mere coincidence?" concluded Mr. +Cromering. + +"I do not wish to undermine the local belief in the White Lady of the +Shrieking Pit," said Colwyn, with a smile which the darkness hid. "All I +say is that her frequent reappearances since the money was hidden in the +pit were exceedingly useful for the man who hid the money. I can assure +you that none of the villagers would go near the pit for twice the +amount. There are plenty of them who will go to their graves convinced +that they have heard her nightly shrieks since the murder was +committed." + +"It is difficult to believe that they are all mistaken," said Mr. +Cromering slowly. + +"I do not think they are mistaken--at least, not all of them. Some have +probably heard shrieks." + +"Then how do you account for the shrieks?" asked the chief constable +eagerly. + +"I think they have heard Benson's mother shrieking in her paroxysms of +madness." + +"By Jove, that's a shrewd notion!" chuckled Superintendent Galloway. +"You don't miss much, Mr. Colwyn. Whether you're right or not, there's +not the slightest doubt that the whole village is in terror of the +ghost, and avoids the Shrieking Pit like a pestilence. I was talking to +a Flegne farmer the other day, and he assured me, with a pale face, that +he had heard the White Lady shrieking three nights running, and when his +men went to the inn after dark they walked half a mile out of their way +to avoid passing near the pit. He told me also that the general belief +among the villagers is that Mr. Glenthorpe saw the White Lady a night or +so before he was murdered." + +"I heard that story also," responded Colwyn. "He was in the habit of +walking up to the rise after dark. He appears to have been keenly +interested in his scientific work." + +"He was absorbed in it to the exclusion of everything else," said the +chief constable, with a sigh. "His death is a great loss to British +science, and Norfolk research in particular. I was very much interested +in that newspaper clipping which was found in his pocket-book with the +money. It was a London review on a brochure he had published on sponge +spicules he had found in a flint at Flegne, and was his last +contribution to science, published two days before he was struck down. +What a loss!" + +Their conversation had brought them to the top of the rise. Beneath them +lay the little hamlet on the edge of the marshes, wrapped in a white +blanket of mist. Colwyn asked his companions to remain where they were, +while he went to see if Queensmead was on the watch. He walked quickly +across the hut circles until he reached the pit. There his keen eyes +detected a dark figure standing motionless in the shadow of the wood. + +"Is that you, Queensmead?" he said, in a low voice. + +"Yes, Mr. Colwyn." The figure advanced out of the shadow. + +"Is everything all right?" + +"Quite all right, sir. I've watched from this spot from dark till dawn +since you've been away, and there's not been a soul near the pit. I've +not been disturbed--not even by the White Lady." + +"You have done excellently. The chief constable and Superintendent +Galloway have come over with me, and we are going to the inn now. You +had better keep watch here for half an hour longer, so as to be on the +safe side. If anybody comes to the pit during that time you must detain +him, and call for assistance. I will come and relieve you myself." + +"Very good, sir, you can depend on me," said Queensmead quietly, as he +returned to his post. + +Colwyn rejoined his companions, and told them what had passed. + +"I want to be on the safe side in case Benson tries to bolt when he sees +us," he explained. "He's hardly likely to go without making an effort to +get the money. Now, let us go to the inn." + +"One moment," said the chief constable. "How do you propose to proceed +when we get there?" + +"Get Benson by himself and frighten him into a confession," was the +terse reply. "I want your authority to threaten him with arrest. In +fact, I should prefer that you or Superintendent Galloway undertook to +do that. It would come with more force." + +"Let it be Galloway," responded the chief constable. "You will act just +as if I were not present, Galloway, and it is my wish that you do +whatever Mr. Colwyn asks you." + +"Thank you," replied the detective. "Let us go, now. There is no time to +be lost. Somebody may have seen me speaking to Queensmead." + +They descended the rise and, reaching the flat, discerned the gaunt +walls of the old inn looming spectrally from the mist. A light glimmered +in the bar, and loud voices were heard within. Colwyn felt for the door. +It was shut and fastened. He knocked sharply; the voices within ceased +as though by magic, and presently there was the sound of somebody +coming along the passage. Then the door was opened, and the white face +of Charles appeared in the doorway, framed in the yellow light of a +candle which he held above his head as he peered forth into the mist. +His black eyes roved from Colwyn to the forms behind him. + +"I'm sorry you were kept waiting, sir," he said, in his strange whisper, +which seemed to have a tremor in it. "But the customers will have the +door locked at night now. They are frightened of this ghost--this White +Lady--she's been heard shrieking----" + +"Never mind that now," replied Colwyn. He had determined how to act, and +stepped quickly inside. "Where's Benson?" + +"He's sitting upstairs with his mother, sir. Shall I tell him you want +him?" + +"No. I will go myself. Take these gentlemen into the bar parlour, and +return to the bar." + +Colwyn made his way upstairs in the dark. He passed the rooms where Mr. +Glenthorpe had been murdered and Penreath had slept, and the room from +which he had watched Peggy's nocturnal visit to the death chamber. That +wing of the inn was as empty and silent as it had been the night of the +murder, but a lighted candle, placed on an old hall stand which Colwyn +remembered having seen that night in the lumber room, flickered in the +wavering shadows--a futile human effort to ward off the lurking terrors +of darkness by the friendly feeble companionship of a light which could +be extinguished even more quickly than a life. + +Colwyn took the candle to light him down the second passage to the mad +woman's room. As he reached it, the door opened, and Peggy stepped +forth. She recoiled at the sight of the detective. + +"You!" she breathed. "Oh, why----" + +"I have come to see your father," said Colwyn. It went to his heart to +see the entreaty in her eyes, the pitiful droop of her lips and the +thinness of her face. + +The door was opened widely, and the innkeeper appeared on the threshold +beside his daughter. Behind him, Colwyn could see the old mad woman in +her bed in the corner of the room, mumbling to herself and fondling her +doll. The innkeeper fastened his bird-like eyes on the detective's face. + +"What are you doing here?" he said, and there was no mistaking the note +of terror in his voice. "What is it you want?" + +"I want to speak to you downstairs," said the detective. + +The innkeeper looked swiftly to the right and left with the instinct of +a trapped animal seeking an avenue of escape. Then his eyes returned to +the detective's face with the resigned glance of a man who had made up +his mind. + +"I will come down with you," he said. "Peggy, you must look after your +grandmother till I return." + +The girl went back into the room and shut the door behind her, without a +word or a glance. Once more Colwyn felt admiration for her as a rare +type of woman-hood. Truly, she had self-control, this girl. + +He and the innkeeper took their way along the passages and descended the +stairs without exchanging a word. When they got to the foot of the +stairs Benson half hesitated, and turned to Colwyn as if for direction. +The latter nodded towards the door of the bar parlour, and motioned the +innkeeper to enter. Following closely behind, he saw the innkeeper start +with surprise at the sight of the two inmates of the room. Mr. Cromering +was seated at the table, but Superintendent Galloway was standing up +with his back to the fireplace. There was a moment's tense silence +before the latter spoke. + +"We have sent for you to ask you a few questions, Benson." + +"I was under the impression--that is, I was led to believe--that it was +Mr. Colwyn who wanted to see me." + +"Never mind what you thought," retorted Galloway impatiently. "You know +perfectly well what has brought us here. I'm going to ask you some +questions about the murder which was committed in this inn less than +three weeks ago." + +"I know nothing about it, sir, beyond what I told you before." + +"You will be well advised, in your own interests, not to lie, Benson. +Why did you not tell us you had a second key to Mr. Glenthorpe's room?" + +There was a perceptible pause before the reply came. + +"I didn't think it mattered, sir." + +"Then you admit you have a second key?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Very well." Superintendent Galloway took out a pocket-book and made a +note of the reply. "Now, where did you conceal the money?" + +"What money, sir?" + +"Don't equivocate, man!" Superintendent Galloway produced the +pocket-book Colwyn had recovered from the pit, and held it at arm's +length in front of the innkeeper. "I mean the £300 in Treasury notes in +this pocket-book, which Mr. Glenthorpe drew from the bank, and which you +took from his room the night he was murdered." + +"I know nothing about it." + +To Colwyn at least it seemed that the expression on the innkeeper's face +as he glanced at the pocket-book might have been mistaken by an +unprejudiced observer for genuine surprise. + +"I suppose you never saw it before, eh?" sneered Galloway. + +"I never did." + +"Nor hid it in the pit?" + +"No, sir." + +Galloway paused in his questioning in secret perplexity. Benson's +answers to his last three questions were given so firmly and +unhesitatingly that some of his former doubts of Colwyn's theory +returned to him with redoubled force. But it was in his most truculent +and overbearing manner that he next remarked: + +"Do you also deny that you carried Mr. Glenthorpe's body from his room +and threw it down the pit?" + +The spasm of sudden terror which contorted the innkeeper's face was a +revelation to the three men who were watching him closely. + +"I don't know anything about it," he quavered weakly. + +"That won't go down, Benson!" Galloway was quick to follow up his +stroke, shaking his head fiercely, like a dog worrying a rat. "You were +seen carrying the body downstairs, the night of the murder. You might as +well own up to it, first as last. Lies will not help you. We know too +much for you to wriggle out of it. And never mind smoothing your hair +down like that. We know all about that scar on your forehead, and how +you got it." + +A wooden clock, standing on the mantelpiece, measured off half a minute +in heavy ticks. Then the innkeeper, in a voice which was little more +than a whisper, spoke: + +"It is true. I carried the body downstairs." + +"Why did you not tell us this before?" + +"It would not have made any difference." + +"What!" Superintendent Galloway's indignation and amazement threatened +to choke his utterance. "You keep silence till an innocent man is almost +hanged for your misdeeds, and now have the brazen effrontery to say it +makes no difference." + +"Is Mr. Penreath innocent?" + +"Nobody should know that better than you." + +"Then who murdered Mr. Glenthorpe?" + +"Let us have no more of this fooling, Benson." Superintendent Galloway's +voice was very stern. "You have already admitted that you carried Mr. +Glenthorpe's body downstairs." + +"Oh!" The wretched man cried out wildly, like one who sees an engulfing +wave too late. "I see what you mean--you think I murdered him. But I did +not--I did not! Before God I am innocent." His voice rang out loudly. + +"We don't want to listen to this talk," interrupted Galloway roughly. +"You are under arrest, Benson, for complicity in this murder, and the +less you say the better for yourself." + +"But I tell you I am innocent." The innkeeper brought his skeleton hands +together in a gesture which was almost tragic in its despair. "I carried +the body downstairs, but I did not murder him. Let me explain. Let me +tell you----" + +"My advice to you is to keep silence, man. Keep your story for the +trial," replied the police official. "You'd better get ready to go to +Heathfield with me. I'll go upstairs with you, and give you five minutes +to get ready." + +"Let him tell his story before you take him away, Galloway," said +Colwyn, who had been keenly watching the innkeeper's face during the +dialogue between him and his accuser. "I want to hear it." + +"I do not see what good it will do," grumbled Superintendent Galloway. +"However, as you want to hear it, let him go ahead. But let me first +warn you, Benson, that anything you say now may be used in evidence +against you afterwards." + +"I do not care for that--I am not afraid of the truth being known," +replied the innkeeper. He turned from the uncompromising face of the +police officer to Colwyn, as though he divined in him a more +unprejudiced listener. "I did not murder Mr. Glenthorpe, but I went to +his room with the intention of robbing him the night he was murdered," +he commenced. "I was in desperate straits for money. The brewer had +threatened to turn me out of the inn because I couldn't pay my way. I +knew Mr. Glenthorpe had taken money out of the bank that morning, and in +an evil moment temptation overcame me, and I determined to rob him. I +told myself that he was a wealthy man and would never feel the loss of +the money, but if I was turned out of the inn my daughter and my old +mother would starve. + +"My plan was to go to his room after everybody was asleep, let myself in +with my key, and secure the pocket-book containing the money. I knew +that Mr. Glenthorpe was a sound sleeper, and I was aware that he +generally locked his door and slept with the key under his pillow. + +"I went to my room early that night, and waited a long time before +making the attempt. It came on to rain about eleven o'clock, and I +waited some time longer before leaving my room. I walked in my stocking +feet, so as to make no sound, and I carried a candle, but it was not +lighted. When I got to the door I stood and listened awhile outside, +thinking I might judge by Mr. Glenthorpe's breathing whether he was +asleep, but I could hear nothing. I unlocked the door quietly, and felt +my way towards the bed in the dark, hoping to find his coat and the +money in it without running the risk of striking a light. + +"But I could not lay my hands on the coat in the dark, so I struck a +match to light the candle. I had made up my mind that if Mr. Glenthorpe +should wake up and see me at his bedside I would tell him the truth and +ask him to lend me some money. + +"By the light of the candle I saw Mr. Glenthorpe lying on his back, with +his arms thrown out from his body. He was uncovered, and the bed-clothes +were lying in a tumbled heap at the foot of the bed. I stood looking at +him for a minute, not knowing what to do. I did not realise at the time +that he was dead, because the wind blowing in at the open window caused +the candle to flicker, and I could not see very clearly. I thought he +must be in a fit, and I wondered what I could do to help him. As the +candle still kept flickering in the wind, I picked up the candlestick +and walked to the gas-jet in the centre of the room, turned on the tap +and tried to light it with the candle. It would not light, and then I +remembered that I had told Ann to turn it off at the meter before going +to bed. I walked back to the bedside, put the candle down on the table, +and had a closer look at Mr. Glenthorpe. As he was still in the same +attitude I put my hand on his heart to see if it was beating. I felt +something warm and wet, and when I drew back my hand I saw that it was +covered with blood. + +"When I realised that he was dead--murdered--I lost my nerve and rushed +from the room, leaving the candle burning at the bedside. My one thought +was to get downstairs and wash the blood off my hand. It was not until I +had reached the kitchen that I remembered that I had left the candle +burning upstairs. I considered whether I should return for it at once or +wash my hands first. I decided on the latter course, and went into the +kitchen. + +"I had just lit a candle, when I heard a door open behind me, and, +turning round, I saw Charles coming out of his room in his shirt and +trousers, with a candle in his hand. He said he had seen the light under +his door, and wondering who had come into the kitchen had got up to see. +Then his face changed when he saw my hands, and he asked me how the +blood came to be on them. + +"I tried to put him off at first by telling him I had knocked my hand +upstairs. He didn't say any more, but stood there watching me wash my +hands, and when I had finished he said that if I was going upstairs he +would come with me, as he remembered he had left his corkscrew in Mr. +Glenthorpe's sitting room, and would want it in the morning. + +"I could see that he suspected me, and that if he went upstairs he would +see the light burning in Mr. Glenthorpe's bedroom, and might go in. So, +in desperation, I confessed to him that I had gone into Mr. Glenthorpe's +room, and found him dead. I asked Charles what I should do. He heard me +very quietly, but when he learnt that I had left my candle burning in +Mr. Glenthorpe's room he said the first thing was to go and get that, +and then we could discuss what had better be done. + +"I realised that was good advice, and went upstairs to get the +candlestick. But when I got to the door I was amazed to find the room in +darkness. The door was on the jar, just as I remembered leaving it, but +there was not a glimmer of light. I was in a terrible fright, but as I +stood there in the dark, listening intently, the sound of the wind +roaring round the house reminded me how the candle had flickered in the +wind while I was in the room before, and I concluded that it must have +blown out the light. So I went into the room, feeling my way along the +walls with my hands. When I got near the bed I struck a match and looked +for the candlestick. But it was gone. + +"Then I knew somebody had been in the room, and I made my way downstairs +again as fast as I could, and told Charles, and asked him what he +thought of it. Charles said it was clear that the murderer, whoever he +was, had revisited the room since I had been there, and finding the +candle, had carried it off with him. I asked Charles for what purpose? +Charles turned it over in his mind for a moment, and then said that it +seemed to him that he might have done it to secure himself, in case he +was caught, by being able to prove that somebody else had been in Mr. +Glenthorpe's room that night. + +"I saw the force of that and was greatly alarmed, and asked Charles what +he thought I had better do. Charles, after thinking it over for a while, +said in my own interests I would be well advised if I carried the body +away and concealed it somewhere where it was not likely to be found. He +pointed out that if the facts came to light it would be very awkward for +me. On my own admission I had gone into Mr. Glenthorpe's room in the +middle of the night, and had come away leaving him dead in bed, with his +blood on my hands, and my bedroom candlestick alight at his bedside. +Charles pointed out that these facts were sure to come to light if the +body was left where it was, but if the body was removed and safely +hidden, it might be thought that Mr. Glenthorpe had simply disappeared. + +"I was struck by the force of these arguments, and we next discussed +where the body should be hidden. We both thought of the pit, but I +didn't like that idea at first because I thought the police would be +sure to search the pit when they learnt of Mr. Glenthorpe's +disappearance, because his excavations were near the pit. Charles, on +the other hand, thought it was the safest place--much safer than the +sea, which was sure to cast up the body. He said it would never occur to +the police to search the pit, until the body had lain there so long that +it would be impossible to say how he came by his death. Perhaps it would +never be searched, in which case the body would never be recovered. + +"We decided on the pit, and Charles said he would keep watch downstairs +while I went up and got the body. But first I went and opened the back +door and went to the side of the inn to see if anybody was about. The +rain had ceased, it was a dark and stormy night, and everybody long +since gone to bed. The rough stones outside cut my feet, and recalled to +my mind that I was without boots. I knew I could not carry the body all +the way up the rise without boots, and I was about to go to my room to +get them when I remembered that I had seen Penreath's boots outside his +bedroom door. I decided to wear them and avoid the risk of going back to +my room for my own boots. I have a small foot, and I had no doubt that +they would fit me. + +"Charles suggested that I should go into the room in the dark, so as to +lessen the risk of being seen, and light the candle when I got inside. I +took the candle, but I said I would turn on the gas at the meter, in +case the wind blew out the candle. I will keep nothing back now. The +real reason was that I wanted the better light to make quite sure if the +money was gone. I thought perhaps the murderer might have overlooked it, +and I hoped to find it because I needed it so badly. When I got upstairs +I stopped outside Mr. Penreath's room, picked up his boots, and put them +on. I went into the room in the dark, intending to strike a match, and +light the gas, and search for the money. I miscalculated the distance, +and bumped into the gas globe in the dark, cutting my head badly. When I +struck a match I found that I couldn't light the gas because the +incandescent burner had been broken by the blow, so I lit the candle. + +"I shuddered at the ordeal of carrying the body downstairs, and only +nerved myself to the task by reflecting on the risk to myself if I +allowed it to remain where it was. As I stood by the bedside, I noticed +Mr. Glenthorpe's key of the room lying by the pillow, and I picked it up +and put it in my pocket. I then lifted the body on my shoulders, carried +it downstairs, steadying it with one hand, and carrying the candle in +the other. Charles was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs, and +he took the candle from me and lighted me to the back door. + +"A late moon was just beginning to show above the horizon when I got +outside, and by its light I had no difficulty in finding my way up the +rise and to the pit. It was a terrible task, and I was glad when I had +accomplished it. I returned to the back door, where Charles was awaiting +me. We then fastened the back door, and he went to his room off the +kitchen, and I went upstairs to my room. As I passed Mr. Glenthorpe's +room I saw the door was open, and I pulled it quickly to, but I forgot +to take out the key I had left in the door when I first entered the +room. + +"I remembered the key in the morning when Ann told me Mr. Glenthorpe's +room was empty, but I dared not remove it then because I knew Ann must +have seen it. And later on, when you were questioning me about the key +in the door, I was afraid to tell you about the second key, because I +knew you would question me. + +"When I learnt from Ann that Mr. Penreath had left early in the morning, +and wouldn't stay for breakfast, I felt sure it was he who had committed +the murder. It was a little later that Charles took me aside in the bar +and told me that he had walked up to the rise early that morning to see +if everything was all right, and that I had left traces of my footprints +across the clay to the mouth of the pit. I was very much upset when I +heard this, for I knew the body was sure to be found. But Charles said +that, as things turned out, it was a very lucky accident. + +"Charles said there was no doubt Mr. Penreath was the murderer. He had +not only cleared out, but the knife he had used at dinner had +disappeared. Charles said he had not missed the knife the night before, +but he had discovered the loss when counting the cutlery that morning. +If the police found out that it was his boots which made the prints +leading to the pit it would only be another point against him, and as he +was sure to be hanged in any case the best thing I could do was to go +and inform Constable Queensmead of Mr. Glenthorpe's disappearance and +Mr. Penreath's departure, but to keep silence about my own share in +carrying the body to the pit. Even if the murderer denied removing the +body nobody would believe him. I thought the advice good, and I followed +it. I don't know whether I could have kept it up if I had been +cross-questioned, but from first to last nobody seemed to have the least +suspicion of me. The only time I was really afraid was when one of you +gentlemen asked me about the key in the outside of the door, but you +passed it over and went on to something else. + +"And now you know the whole truth. But I should like to say that I kept +silence about carrying the body away because I didn't think I was +injuring anybody. I believed Mr. Penreath to be guilty. Now you tell me +he is innocent. If I had had any idea of that I would have told the +truth at once, even though you had hanged me for it." + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + + +"You're a nice scoundrel, Benson," said Superintendent Galloway, nodding +his head at the innkeeper with a kind of ferocious banter. "You're +really a first-class villain, upon my soul! But this precious story with +which you've tried to bamboozle us is not complete. Would it be putting +too much strain on your inventive faculties to ask you, while you are +about it, to give us your version of how the money which was stolen from +Mr. Glenthorpe came to be hidden in the pit in which you flung his +body?" + +"But I didn't know the money was hidden in the pit," said the wretched +man, glancing uneasily at the pocket-book, which was still lying on the +table. "I never saw the money, though I've confessed to you that I would +have taken it if I had seen it. That's the truth, sir--every word I've +told you to-night is true! Charles will bear me out." + +"I've no doubt he will. I'll have something to say to that scoundrel +later on. There's a pair of you. I've no doubt he caught you in the act +of carrying away the body of your victim, and that you bribed him to +keep silence. You planned together to let an innocent man go to the +gallows in order to save your own skin. Now, my man----" + +"Wait a moment, Galloway." + +It was Colwyn who spoke. The innkeeper's story had been to him like a +finger of light in a murky depth, revealing unseen and unimagined +abominations, but supplying him with those missing pieces of the puzzle +for which he had long and vainly searched. During the brief colloquy +between Galloway and the innkeeper his brain had been busy fitting +together the whole intricate design of knavery. + +"I want to ask a question," he continued, in answer to the other's +glance of inquiry. "What time was it you went to Mr. Glenthorpe's +room--the first time I mean, Benson. Can you fix it definitely?" + +"Yes, sir. I kept looking at my watch in my room, waiting for the time +to pass. It was twenty past eleven the last time I looked, and I left my +room about five minutes later." + +"Was it raining then?" + +"Yes, sir, but not so hard as previously, and it stopped altogether +before I entered the room, though the wind was blowing." + +"That is as I thought. Benson's story is true, Galloway." + +"What!" The police officer's vociferous exclamation was in striking +contrast to the detective's quiet tones. "How do you make that out?" + +"He couldn't have committed the murder. Mr. Glenthorpe was killed during +the storm, between eleven and half-past. Benson says he didn't enter the +room till nearly half-past eleven." + +"If that's all you're going on----" + +"It isn't." There was a trace of irritation in the detective's voice. +"But Benson's story fills in the gaps of my reconstruction in a +remarkable way--so completely, that he couldn't have invented it to save +his life, because he does not know all we know. In this extraordinarily +complicated case the times are everything. My original theory was right. +There were two persons in the room the night of the murder--three, +really, but Peggy doesn't affect the reconstruction one way or the +other. The murderer, who carried an umbrella to shield himself from the +rain, entered the room about twenty past eleven. He murdered Mr. +Glenthorpe, took the money, and escaped the same way he entered--by the +window. Benson entered by the door at half-past eleven, certainly not +later, and after standing at the bedside for two or three minutes, +rushed downstairs, as he related, leaving his candle burning at the +bedside. During his absence downstairs his daughter entered the room. +Benson returned for the candle and found it gone. Had he returned a +minute or two earlier he would have seen his daughter carrying it away, +because in her story to me she said she thought she heard somebody +creeping up the stairs as she left the room. I thought at the time that +she imagined this, but now I have very little doubt that it was her +father she heard, going upstairs again to get the candle. Finally, +Benson, after planning it with Charles, removed the body to the pit some +time after midnight." + +"This is mere guess-work. Let us stick to facts. On Benson's own +confession he entered the room nefariously and removed the dead man's +body." + +"Yes, but it was a dead body when he got there--just dead. Mr. +Glenthorpe was alive and well not ten minutes before." + +"Oh, come, Mr. Colwyn, this is going too far," Galloway expostulated. +"Again, I say, let us have no guess-work." + +"This is not guess-work. There can be no doubt that the murderer left +the room by the window just before Benson entered it by the door." + +"How do you know that?" asked Galloway. + +"_Because he was watching Benson from the window._" + +Galloway looked startled. + +"You go too deep for me," he said. "Was it Penreath who got out of the +window?" + +"No, Penreath, like Benson, was the victim of a deep and subtle +villain." + +"Then who was it?" + +Before Colwyn could reply a shriek rang out--a single hoarse and +horrible cry, which went reverberating and echoing over the marshes, +rising to a piercing intensity at its highest note, and then ceasing +suddenly. In the hush that ensued the chief constable looked nervously +at Colwyn. + +"It came from the rise," he said in a voice barely raised above a +whisper. "Do you think----" + +Colwyn read the unspoken thought in his mind. + +"I'll go and see what it was," he said briefly. + +He opened the door and went out. In the passage he encountered Ann +shaking and trembling, with a face blanched with terror. + +"It came from the pit, sir--the Shrieking Pit," she whispered. "It's the +White Lady. Don't leave me, I'm like to drop. God a' mercy, what's +that?" she cried, finding her voice in a fresh access of terror as a +heavy knock smote the door. "For God's sake, don't 'ee go, sir, don't +'ee go, as you value your life. It's the White Lady at the door, come to +take her toll again from this unhappy house. You be mad to face her, +sir--it's certain death." + +But Colwyn loosened himself quickly from her detaining grasp, and strode +to the door. As he passed the bar he caught a glimpse of a ring of +cowering frightened faces within, huddled together like sheep, and +staring with saucer eyes. The mist spanned the doorway like a sheet. + +"Who's there?" he cried. + +"It's me, sir." Constable Queensmead stepped out of the mist into the +passage, looking white and shaken. "Something's happened up at the pit. +While I was watching from the corner of the wood I saw somebody appear +out of the mist and come creeping up the rise towards the pit. I waited +till he got to the brink, and when he made to climb down, I knew he was +the man you were after, so I went over to the pit. He had disappeared +inside, but I could hear the creepers rustling as he went down. After a +bit, I heard him coming up again, tugging and straining at the creepers, +and gasping for breath. When he was fairly out, I turned my torch on him +and told him to stand still. It is difficult to say exactly how it +happened, sir, but when he saw he was trapped he made a kind of spring +backwards, slipped on the wet clay, lost his balance, and fell back into +the pit. I sprang forward and tried to save him, but it was too late. He +caught at the creepers as he fell, hung for a second, then fell back +with a loud cry." + +"Who was it, Queensmead?" + +"Charles, the waiter, sir." + +"We must get him out at once," said Colwyn. "We shall need a rope and +some men. Can you get some ropes, Queensmead? There's some men in the +bar--we'll get them to help. + +"I don't think they're likely to come, sir. They're all too frightened +of the Shrieking Pit, and the ghost." + +"I'll go and talk to them. Meanwhile, you go and get ropes." + +Colwyn returned to the bar parlour and, after explaining to Mr. +Cromering and Galloway what had happened, went into the bar. + +"Men," said Colwyn, "Charles has fallen into the pit on the rise, and I +need the help of some of you to get him out. Queensmead has gone for +ropes. Who will come with me?" + +There was no response. The villagers looked at each other in silence, +and moved uneasily. Then a man in jersey and sea-boots spoke: + +"None of us dare go up to th' pit, ma'aster." + +"Why not?" + +"Life be sweet, ma'aster. It be a suddint and bloody end to meet th' +White Lady of th' pit. Luke what's happened to Charles, who went out of +this bar not ten minutes agone! Who knows who she may take next?" + +"Very well, then stay where you are. You are a lot of cowards," said +Colwyn, turning away. + +The faces of the men showed that the epithet rankled, as Colwyn intended +that it should. There was a brief pause, and then another fisherman +stepped forward and said: + +"I'm a Norfolk man, and nobbut agoin' to say I'm afeered. I'll go wi' +yow, ma'aster." + +"If yower game, Tom, I'll go too," said another. + +By the time Queensmead returned with the ropes there was no lack of +willing helpers, and the party immediately set forth. When they arrived +at the pit Colwyn said that it would be best for two men to descend by +separate ropes, so as to be able to carry Charles to the surface in a +blanket if he were injured, and not killed. Colwyn had brought a blanket +from the inn for the purpose. + +"I'll go down, for one," said the seaman who had acted as spokesman in +the bar. "I'm used to tying knots and slinging a hammock, so maybe I +can make it a bit easier for the poor chap if he's not killed outright." + +"And I'll go with you," said Colwyn. + +Mr. Cromering drew the detective aside. + +"My good friend," he said, "do you think it is wise for you to descend? +This man Charles, if he is still alive, may be actuated by feelings of +revenge towards you, and seek to do you an injury." + +"I am not afraid of that," returned Colwyn. "I laid the trap for him, +and it is my duty to go down and bring him up." + +Colwyn left the chief constable and returned to the pit. The next moment +he and the seaman commenced the descent. They carried electric torches, +and took with them a blanket and a third rope. They were carefully +lowered until the torches they carried twinkled more faintly, and +finally vanished in the gloom. A little while afterwards the strain on +the ropes slackened. The rescuers had reached the bottom of the pit. A +period of waiting ensued for those on top, until a jerk of the ropes +indicated the signal for drawing up again. The men on the surface pulled +steadily. Soon the torches were once more visible down the pit, and then +the lanterns on the surface revealed Colwyn and the fisherman, +supporting between them a limp bundle wrapped in the blanket, and tied +to the third rope. As they reached the air they were helped out, and the +burden they carried was laid on the ground near the mouth of the pit. +The blanket fell away, exposing the face of Charles, waxen and still in +the rays of the light which fell upon it. + +"Dead?" whispered Mr. Cromering. + +"Dying," returned Colwyn. "His back is broken." + +The dying man unclosed his eyelids, and his dark eyes, keen and +brilliant as ever, roved restlessly over the group who were standing +around him. They rested on Colwyn, and he lifted a feeble hand and +beckoned to him. The detective knelt beside him, and rested his head on +his arm. The white lips formed one word: + +"Closer." + +Colwyn bent his head nearer, and those standing by could see the dying +man whispering into the detective's ear. He spoke with an effort for +some minutes, and hurriedly, like one who knew that his time was short. +Then he stopped suddenly, and his head fell back grotesquely, like a +broken doll's. Colwyn felt his heart, and rose to his feet. + +"He is dead," he said. + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + + +"There are several things that I do not understand," said Superintendent +Galloway to Colwyn a little later. "How were you able to decide so +quickly that Benson had told the truth when he declared that he had not +committed the murder, after he had made the damning admission that he +had removed the body?" + +"Partly because it was extremely unlikely that Benson could have +invented a story which fitted so nicely with the facts. The slightest +mistake in his times would have proved him to be a liar. But I had more +than that to go upon. I said this afternoon that my reconstruction was +not wholly satisfactory, because there were several loose ends in it. At +that time I believed he was the murderer, and I was anxious to frighten +the truth out of him in order to see where my reconstruction was at +fault. His story proved that my original conception of the crime was the +correct one, and my mistake was in departing from it, and ignoring some +of my original clues in order to square the new facts with a fresh +theory. I should never have lost sight of my first conviction that there +were two persons in Mr. Glenthorpe's room the night he was murdered. + +"When Benson told his story I asked myself, Could Charles' conduct be +dictated by the desire to have a hold over Benson--with a view to +blackmail later on? But he was not likely to risk his own neck by +becoming an accomplice in the concealment of the murdered man's body! +Charles, if he were innocent himself, must have thought that Benson was +the murderer. It was impossible that he could have come to any other +conclusion. He discovers a man washing blood off his hands at midnight, +and this man admits to him that he has just come from a room which he +had no right to enter, and found a dead man there. Why had Charles +believed--or pretended to believe--Benson's story? + +"It came to me suddenly, with the recollection of the line under the +murdered man's window--one of the clues which I had discarded--and the +whole of this baffling sinister mystery became clear in my mind. The +murder was committed by Charles, who got out of the window by which he +had entered just before Benson came into the room. Charles saw a light +in the room he had left, and returned to the window to investigate. +Crouching outside the window, he saw Benson in the room, examining the +body, and it came into his mind as he watched that his employer had +conceived the same idea as himself--had seized on the presence of a +stranger staying at the inn in order to rob Mr. Glenthorpe, hoping that +the crime would be attributed to the man who slept in the next room. +Charles was quick to see how Benson's presence in the room might be +turned to his own advantage. Charles had taken precautions, in +committing the murder, to leave clues in the room which should direct +suspicion to Penreath, but the innkeeper's visit to the room suggested +to him an even better plan for securing his own safety. When Benson left +the room Charles got through the window again, and followed him +downstairs. + +"Charles' story, told to me when he was dying, filled in the gaps which +I have omitted. He said that he watched the whole of Benson's movements +from the window. He saw him searching for the money, saw him feel the +body, and saw the blood on his hands. When Benson turned to leave the +room he forgot the candle, and it was then that the idea of following +him leapt into Charles' mind. He divined that Benson would go downstairs +and wash the blood off his hands. Charles' idea was to go after him and +surprise him in the act. He followed him swiftly, and was never more +than a few feet behind. While Benson was striking a match and lighting +the kitchen candle Charles slipped into his own room, lit his own +candle, and then emerged from his door as though he had been disturbed +in his sleep. The rest of his plan was easily carried out through the +fears of Benson, who agreed, in his own interests, to conceal the body +of the man whom the other had murdered. + +"The clue by which Penreath was virtually convicted--the track of +bootmarks to the pit--was an accidental one so far as Charles was +concerned. It is strange to think that Chance, which removed the clues +Charles deliberately placed in the room, should have achieved Charles' +aim by directing suspicion to Penreath in a different, yet more +convincing manner. + +"The murderer's revelation clears up those points which I was unable to +settle this afternoon. He entered Mr. Glenthorpe's room during the +heaviest part of the storm. He carried a box, under his arm, because he +was too short to get into the window without something to stand on, he +shielded himself from the rain with an umbrella, which got caught on the +nail by the window, and he lit a tallow candle which he had brought from +the bar. + +"Another clue, which I originally discovered and laid aside, is also +explained. The wound in Mr. Glenthorpe's body struck me as an unusual +one. You heard Sir Henry Durwood say, in answer to my questions, that +the blow was a slanting one, struck from the left side, entering almost +parallel with the ribs, yet piercing the heart on the right side. The +manner in which Mr. Glenthorpe's arms were thrown out, his legs drawn +up, proved that he was lying on his back when murdered. For that reason, +the direction of the blow suggested Charles as the murderer." + +"I am afraid I do not follow you there," said Mr. Cromering. + +"Charles had a malformed right hand; his left hand was his only +serviceable one. The blow that killed Mr. Glenthorpe struck me at the +time as a left-handed blow. The natural direction of a right-handed +blow, with the body in such a position, would be from right to left--not +from left to right. But, after considering this point carefully, I came +to the conclusion that the blow might have been struck by a right-handed +man. I was wrong." + +"I do not think you have much cause to blame yourself," said the chief +constable. "You were right in your original conception of the crime, and +right in your later reconstruction in every particular except----" + +"Except that I picked the wrong man," said Colwyn, with a slightly +bitter laugh. "My consolation is that Benson's confession brought the +truth to light, as I expected it would." + +"It took you to see the truth," said Galloway. "I should never have +picked it. I suppose there has never been a case like it." + +"There is nothing new--not even in the annals of crime," returned +Colwyn. "But this was certainly a baffling and unusual case. The +murderer was such a deep and subtle scoundrel that I feel a respect for +his intelligence, perverted though it was. His master stroke was the +disposal of the body. That shielded him from suspicion as completely as +an alibi. I put aside my first suspicion of him largely because I +realised that it was impossible for a man with a deformed arm to carry +away the body. Such a sardonic situation as a murderer persuading +another man that he was likely to be suspected of the murder unless he +removed the body was one that never occurred to me. That, at all events, +is something new in my experience." + +"It is a wonder that Charles, with his deformed arm, was able to go down +the pit and conceal the money," said the chief constable. + +"He did not go down very far. It is not a difficult matter to climb down +the creepers inside with the support of one hand, and he was able to use +the other sufficiently to thrust the small peg into the soft earth. He +first hid the money in the breakwater wall, being too careful and clever +to hide it in the pit until after the inquest. When he had concealed it +in the pit he revived the story of the White Lady of the Shrieking Pit +so as to keep the credulous villagers away from the spot. He need not +have taken that precaution, because the hiding place was an excellent +one, and it was only by chance that I discovered the money when I +descended the pit. But he left nothing to chance. The use of the +umbrella on the night of the murder proves that. Murderers do not +usually carry umbrellas, but he did, because he feared that if his +clothes got wet they might be seen in his room the following day, and +direct suspicion to him. He chose to commit the crime when the storm was +at its height because he thought he was safest from the likelihood of +discovery then. + +"The callous scoundrel told me with his last breath that he was waiting +until Penreath was safely hanged before disappearing with the money. +When he opened the door to us to-night, he knew that he was at the end +of his tether, and he decided to try to bolt. He realised that Benson +would tell the truth when he was questioned and, although the +innkeeper's story did not implicate him directly, he did our common +intelligence the justice to believe that, through his dupe's confession, +we should arrive at the truth." + + +THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Shrieking Pit, by Arthur J. 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Rees + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Shrieking Pit + +Author: Arthur J. Rees + +Release Date: February 2, 2007 [EBook #20494] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SHRIEKING PIT *** + + + + +Produced by Marcia, Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> + <br /> + <br /> + + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span></p> + <br /> + + <div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/cover.jpg" + width="340" height="500" alt="The Shrieking Pit" title="The Shrieking Pit" /> + </div> + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p> + <br /> + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span></p> + <br /> + <div class="trans-note"> + Transcriber's Notes: + Obvious printer errors have been corrected, all other + inconsistencies are as in the original. + </div> + <h1>THE SHRIEKING PIT</h1> + <br /> + <h3>BY</h3> + <h2>ARTHUR J. REES</h2> + <h5>CO-AUTHOR OF</h5> + <h4>THE MYSTERY OF THE DOWNS,</h4> + <h4>THE HAMPSTEAD MYSTERY.</h4> + <center> + <p><small>NEW YORK</small><br /> + <big>GROSSET & DUNLAP</big><br /> + <small>PUBLISHERS</small></p> + <small>Made in the United States of America</small> + </center> + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p> + <br /> + <br /> + <center> + <p>COPYRIGHT, 1918,<br /> + BY STREET & SMITH CORPORATION</p> + <br /> + <p>COPYRIGHT, 1919,<br /> + BY JOHN LANE COMPANY</p> + </center> + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span></p> + <br /> + <br /> + <center> + <small>TO</small> + </center> + <br /> + + <center> + MY SISTERS IN AUSTRALIA + </center> + <br /> + + <center> + <big>ANNIE AND FRANCES</big> + </center> + <br /> + <br /> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="i0"><i>The sea beats in at Blakeney—</i><br /> + </span> <span class="i0"><i>Beats wild and waste at Blakeney;</i><br /> + </span> <span class="i0"> <i>O'er ruined quay and cobbled + street,</i><br /> + </span> <span class="i0"> <i>O'er broken masts of fisher + fleet,</i><br /> + </span> <span class="i0"><i>Which go no more to sea.</i><br /> + </span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="i0"><i>The bitter pools at ebb-tide lie,</i><br /> + </span> <span class="i0"><i>In barren sands at Blakeney;</i><br /> + </span> <span class="i0"> <i>Green, grey and green the marshes + creep,</i><br /> + </span> <span class="i0"> <i>To where the grey north waters + leap</i><br /> + </span> <span class="i0"><i>By dead and silent Blakeney.</i><br /> + </span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="i0"><i>And Time is dead at Blakeney—</i><br /> + </span> <span class="i0"><i>In old, forgotten Blakeney;</i><br /> + </span> <span class="i0"> <i>What care they for Time's Scythe + or Glass;</i><br /> + </span> <span class="i0"> <i>Who do not feel the hours + pass,</i><br /> + </span> <span class="i0"><i>Who sleep in sea-worn Blakeney?</i><br /> + </span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="i0"><i>By the old grey church in Blakeney,</i><br /> + </span> <span class="i0"><i>By quenched turret light in Blakeney,</i><br /> + </span> <span class="i0"> <i>They slumber deep, they do not + know,</i><br /> + </span> <span class="i0"> <i>If Life's told tale is Death and + Woe;</i><br /> + </span> <span class="i0"><i>Through all eternity.</i><br /> + </span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="i0"><i>But Love still lives at Blakeney,</i><br /> + </span> <span class="i0"><i>'Tis graven deep at Blakeney;</i><br /> + </span> <span class="i0"> <i>Of Love which seeks beyond the + grave,</i><br /> + </span> <span class="i0"> <i>Of Love's sad faith which fain + would save—</i><br /> + </span> <span class="i0"><i>The headstones tell the story.</i><br /> + </span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="i0"><i>Grave-grasses grow at Blakeney</i><br /> + </span> <span class="i0"><i>Sea pansies, sedge, and rosemary;</i><br /> + </span> <span class="i0"> <i>Frail fronds thrust forth in dim + dank air,</i><br /> + </span> <span class="i0"> <i>A message from those lying + there:</i><br /> + </span> <span class="i0"><i>Wan leaves of memory.</i><br /> + </span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="i0"><i>I send you this from Blakeney—</i><br /> + </span> <span class="i0"><i>From distant, dreaming Blakeney;</i><br /> + </span> <span class="i0"> <i>Love and Remembrance: These are + sure;</i><br /> + </span> <span class="i0"> <i>Though Death is strong they shall + endure,</i><br /> + </span> <span class="i0"><i>Till all things cease to be.</i><br /> + </span> + </div> + </div> + <p> + <span style="margin-left: 6em;"><i>Blakeney</i></span>,<span style="margin-left: 12em;"><i><b>A. J. R.</b></i></span></p> + <p><span style="margin-left: 6em;"><i>Norfolk</i>.</span></p> + <br /> + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p> + <br /> + <br /> + <hr style="width: 65%;" size="4" /> + <br /> + <h3>CHAPTER LIST</h3> + <center> + <a href="#PREFACE"><b>PREFACE</b></a> <a href="#CHAPTER_I"><b>CHAPTER + I</b></a> <a href="#CHAPTER_II"><b>CHAPTER II</b></a> <a + href="#CHAPTER_III"><b>CHAPTER III</b></a> <a href="#CHAPTER_IV"><b>CHAPTER + IV</b></a> <a href="#CHAPTER_V"><b>CHAPTER V</b></a><br /> + </center> + <br /> + <center> + <a href="#CHAPTER_VI"><b>CHAPTER VI</b></a> <a href="#CHAPTER_VII"><b>CHAPTER + VII</b></a> <a href="#CHAPTER_VIII"><b>CHAPTER VIII</b></a> <a + href="#CHAPTER_IX"><b>CHAPTER IX</b></a> <a href="#CHAPTER_X"><b>CHAPTER + X</b></a> <a href="#CHAPTER_XI"><b>CHAPTER XI</b></a><br /> + </center> + <br /> + <center> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XII"><b>CHAPTER XII</b></a> <a + href="#CHAPTER_XIII"><b>CHAPTER XIII</b></a> <a + href="#CHAPTER_XIV"><b>CHAPTER XIV</b></a> <a href="#CHAPTER_XV"><b>CHAPTER + XV</b></a> <a href="#CHAPTER_XVI"><b>CHAPTER XVI</b></a> <a + href="#CHAPTER_XVII"><b>CHAPTER XVII</b></a><br /> + </center> + <br /> + <center> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII"><b>CHAPTER XVIII</b></a> <a + href="#CHAPTER_XIX"><b>CHAPTER XIX</b></a> <a href="#CHAPTER_XX"><b>CHAPTER + XX</b></a> <a href="#CHAPTER_XXI"><b>CHAPTER XXI</b></a> <a + href="#CHAPTER_XXII"><b>CHAPTER XXII</b></a> <a + href="#CHAPTER_XXIII"><b>CHAPTER XXIII</b></a><br /> + </center> + <br /> + <center> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV"><b>CHAPTER XXIV</b></a> <a + href="#CHAPTER_XXV"><b>CHAPTER XXV</b></a> <a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI"><b>CHAPTER + XXVI</b></a> <a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII"><b>CHAPTER XXVII</b></a> <a + href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII"><b>CHAPTER XXVIII</b></a> <a + href="#CHAPTER_XXIX"><b>CHAPTER XXIX</b></a><br /> + </center> + <br /> + <br /> + + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span></p> + <br /> + <br /> + <hr style="width: 65%;" size="4" /> + <br /> + <h2><a name="PREFACE" id="PREFACE"></a>PREFACE</h2> + <blockquote> + As the scenes of this story are laid in a part of Norfolk which will be readily + identified by many Norfolk people, it is perhaps well to state that all the + personages are fictitious, and that the Norfolk police officials who appear in the + book have no existence outside these pages. They and the other characters are drawn + entirely from imagination. + </blockquote> + <br /> + <blockquote> + To East Anglian readers I offer my apologies for any faults there may be in + reproducing the Norfolk dialect. My excuse is the fascination the language produced + on myself, and that it is as essential to the scene of the story as the marshes and + the sea. Though I have found it impossible to transliterate the pronunciation into + the ordinary English alphabet, I hope I have been able to convey enough of the + characteristic speech of the native to enable those familiar with it to put it for + themselves into the accents of their own people. To those who are not familiar with + the dialect, I can only say, "Go and study this relic of old English in that remote + part of the country where the story is laid, where the ghosts of a ruined past + mingle with the primitive survivors of to-day, who walk very near the unseen." + <p align="right"><b>A. J. R.</b></p> + LONDON<br /> + + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p></blockquote> + <br /> + + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></p> + <br /> + <br /> + <h1>THE SHRIEKING PIT</h1> + <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span><br /> + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p> + <hr style="width: 35%;" size="6" /> + <h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + <p>Colwyn had never seen anything quite so eccentric in a public room as the + behaviour of the young man breakfasting alone at the alcove table in the bay + embrasure, and he became so absorbed in watching him that he permitted his own meal + to grow cold, impatiently waving away the waiter who sought with obtrusive + obsequiousness to recall his wandering attention by thrusting the menu card before + him.</p> + <p>To outward seeming the occupant of the alcove table was a good-looking young man, + whose clear blue eyes, tanned skin and well-knit frame indicated the truly national + product of common sense, cold water, and out-of-door pursuits; of a wholesomely + English if not markedly intellectual type, pleasant to look at, and unmistakably of + good birth and breeding. When a young man of this description, your fellow guest at a + fashionable seaside hotel, who had been in the habit of giving you a courteous nod on + his morning journey across the archipelago of snowy-topped tables under the convoy of + the head waiter to his own table, comes in to breakfast with shaking hands, flushed + face, and passes your table with unseeing eyes, you would probably conclude that he + was under the influence of liquor, and in your English way you would severely blame + him, not so much for the moral turpitude involved in his excess as for the bad taste, + which prompted him to show himself in public in such a<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> condition. If, on reaching his place, + the young man's conduct took the additional extravagant form of picking up a + table-knife and sticking it into the table in front of him, you would probably + enlarge your previous conclusion by admitting the hypotheses of drugs or dementia to + account for such remarkable behaviour.</p> + <p>All these things were done by the young man at the alcove table in the breakfast + room of the Grand Hotel, Durrington, on an October morning in the year 1916; but + Colwyn, who was only half an Englishman, and, moreover, had an original mind, did not + attribute them to drink, morphia, or madness. Colwyn flattered himself that he knew + the outward signs of these diseases too well to be deceived into thinking that the + splendid specimen of young physical manhood at the far table was the victim of any of + them. His own impression was that it was a case of shell-shock. It was true that, + apart from the doubtful evidence of a bronzed skin and upright frame, there was + nothing about him to suggest that he had been a soldier: no service lapel or + regimental badge in his grey Norfolk jacket. But an Englishman of his class would be + hardly likely to wear either once he had left the Army. It was almost certain that he + must have seen service in the war, and by no means improbable that he had been bowled + over by shell-shock, like many thousands more of equally splendid specimens of young + manhood. Any other conclusion to account for the strange condition of a young man + like him seemed unworthy and repellent.</p> + <p>"It <i>must</i> be shell-shock, and a very bad case—probably supposed to be + cured, and sent up here to recuperate," thought Colwyn. "I'll keep an eye on + him."</p> + <p>As Colwyn resumed his breakfast it occurred to him that some of the other guests + might have been alarmed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg + 14]</a></span> by the young man's behaviour, and he cast his eyes round the room to + see if anybody else had noticed him.</p> + <p>There were about thirty guests in the big breakfast apartment, which had been + built to accommodate five times the number—a charming, luxuriously furnished + place, with massive white pillars supporting a frescoed ceiling, and lighted by + numerous bay windows opening on to the North Sea, which was sparkling brightly in a + brilliant October sunshine. The thirty people comprised the whole of the hotel + visitors, for in the year 1916 holiday seekers preferred some safer resort than a + part of the Norfolk coast which lay in the track of enemy airships seeking a way to + London.</p> + <p>Two nights before a Zeppelin had dropped a couple of bombs on the Durrington + front, and the majority of hotel visitors had departed by the next morning's train, + disregarding the proprietor's assurance that the affair was a pure accident, a German + oversight which was not likely to happen again. Off the nervous ones went, and left + the big hotel, the long curved seafront, the miles of yellow sand, the high green + headlands, the best golf-links in the East of England, and all the other attractions + mentioned in the hotel advertisements, to a handful of people, who were too + nerve-proof, lazy, fatalistic, or indifferent to bother about Zeppelins.</p> + <p>These thirty guests, scattered far and wide over the spacious isolation of the + breakfast-room, in twos and threes, and little groups, seemed, with one exception, + too engrossed in the solemn British rite of beginning the day well with a good + breakfast to bother their heads about the conduct of the young man at the alcove + table. They were, for the most part, characteristic war-time holiday-makers: the men, + obviously above military age, in Norfolk tweeds or golf suits; two young officers at + a table<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> by the + window, and—as indifference to Zeppelins is not confined to the sterner + sex—a sprinkling of ladies, plump and matronly, or of the masculine walking + type, with two charmingly pretty girls and a gay young war widow to leaven the + mass.</p> + <p>The exception was a tall and portly gentleman with a slightly bald head, glossy + brown beard, gold-rimmed eye-glasses perilously balanced on a prominent nose, and an + important manner. He was breakfasting alone at a table not far from Colwyn's, and + Colwyn noticed that he kept glancing at the alcove table where the young man sat. As + Colwyn looked in his direction their eyes met, and the portly gentleman nodded + portentously in the direction of the alcove table, as an indication that he also had + been watching the curious behaviour of the occupant. A moment afterwards he got up + and walked across to the pillar against which Colwyn's table was placed.</p> + <p>"Will you permit me to take a seat at your table?" he remarked urbanely. "I am + afraid we are going to have trouble over there directly," he added, sinking his voice + as he nodded in the direction of the distant alcove table. "We may have to act + promptly. Nobody else seems to have noticed anything. We can watch him from behind + this pillar without his seeing us."</p> + <p>Colwyn nodded in return with a quick comprehension of all the other's speech + implied, and pushed a chair towards his visitor, who sat down and resumed his watch + of the young man at the alcove table. Colwyn bestowed a swift glance on his companion + which took in everything. The tall man in glasses looked too human for a lawyer, too + intelligent for a schoolmaster, and too well-dressed for an ordinary medical man. + Colwyn, versed in judging men swiftly from externals, noting the urbane,<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> somewhat pompous + face, the authoritative, professional pose, the well-shaped, plump white hands, and + the general air of well-being and prosperity which exuded from the whole man, placed + him as a successful practitioner in the more lucrative path of + medicine—probably a fashionable Harley Street specialist.</p> + <p>Colwyn returned to his scrutiny of the young man at the alcove table, and he and + his companion studied him intently for some time in silence. But the young man, for + the moment, was comparatively quiet, gazing moodily through the open window over the + waters of the North Sea, an untasted sole in front of him, and an impassive waiter + pouring out his coffee as though the spectacle of a young man sticking a knife into + the table-cloth was a commonplace occurrence at the Grand Hotel, and all in the day's + doings. When the waiter had finished pouring out the coffee and noiselessly departed, + the young man tasted it with an indifferent air, pushed it from him, and resumed his + former occupation of staring out of the window.</p> + <p>"He seems quiet enough now," observed Colwyn, turning to his companion. "What do + you think is the matter with him—shell-shock?"</p> + <p>"I would not care to hazard a definite opinion on so cursory an observation," + returned the other, in a dry, reticent, ultra-professional manner. "But I will go so + far as to say that I do not think it is a case of shell-shock. If it is what I + suspect, that first attack was the precursor of another, possibly a worse attack. Ha! + it is commencing. Look at his thumb—that is the danger signal!"</p> + <p>Colwyn looked across the room again. The young man was still sitting in the same + posture, with his gaze bent on the open sea. His left hand was extended rigidly<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> on the table in + front of him, with the thumb, extended at right angles, oscillating rapidly in a + peculiar manner.</p> + <p>"This attack may pass away like the other, but if he looks round at anybody, and + makes the slightest move, we must secure him immediately," said Colwyn's companion, + speaking in a whisper.</p> + <p>He had barely finished speaking when the young man turned his head from the open + window and fixed his blue eyes vacantly on the table nearest him, where an elderly + clergyman, a golfing friend, and their wives, were breakfasting together. With a + swift movement the young man got up, and started to walk towards this table.</p> + <p>Colwyn, who was watching every movement of the young man closely, could not + determine, then or afterwards, whether he meditated an attack on the occupants of the + next table, or merely intended to leave the breakfast room. The clergyman's table was + directly in front of the alcove and in a line with the pair of swinging glass doors + which were the only exit from the breakfast-room. But Colwyn's companion did not wait + for the matter to be put to the test. At the first movement of the young man he + sprang to his feet and, without waiting to see whether Colwyn was following him, + raced across the room and caught the young man by the arm while he was yet some feet + away from the clergyman's table. The young man struggled desperately in his grasp for + some moments, then suddenly collapsed and fell inert in the other's arms. Colwyn + walked over to the spot in time to see his portly companion lay the young man down on + the carpet and bend over to loosen his collar.</p> + <p>The young man lay apparently unconscious on the floor, breathing stertorously, + with convulsed features and closed eyes. After the lapse of some minutes he opened + his eyes, glanced listlessly at the circle of frightened<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> people who had gathered around him, + and feebly endeavoured to sit up. Colwyn's companion, who was bending over him + feeling his heart, helped him to a sitting posture, and then, glancing at the faces + crowded around, exclaimed in a sharp voice:</p> + <p>"He wants air. Please move back there a little."</p> + <p>"Certainly, Sir Henry." It was a stout man in a check golfing suit who spoke. "But + the ladies are very anxious to know if it is anything serious."</p> + <p>"No, no. He will be quite all right directly. Just fall back, and give him more + air. Here, you!"—this to one of the gaping waiters—"just slip across to + the office and find out the number of this gentleman's room."</p> + <p>The waiter hurried away and speedily returned with the proprietor of the hotel, a + little man in check trousers and a frock coat, with a bald head and an anxious, yet + resigned eye which was obviously prepared for the worst. His demeanour was that of a + man who, already overloaded by misfortune, was bracing his sinews to bear the last + straw. As he approached the group near the alcove table he smoothed his harassed + features into an expression of solicitude, and, addressing himself to the man who was + supporting the young man on the floor, said, in a voice intended to be + sympathetic,</p> + <p>"I thought I had better come myself, Sir Henry. I could not understand from + Antoine what you wanted or what had happened. Antoine said something about somebody + dying in the breakfast-room——"</p> + <p>"Nothing of the sort!" snapped the gentleman addressed as Sir Henry, shifting his + posture a little so as to enable the young man to lean against his shoulder. "Haven't + you eyes in your head, Willsden? Cannot you see for yourself that this gentleman has + merely had a fainting fit?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg + 19]</a></span></p> + <p>"I'm delighted to hear it, Sir Henry," replied the hotel proprietor. But his face + expressed no visible gratification. To a man who had had his hotel emptied by a + Zeppelin raid the difference between a single guest fainting instead of dying was + merely infinitesimal.</p> + <p>"Who is this gentleman, and what's the number of his room?" continued Sir Henry. + "He will be better lying quietly on his bed."</p> + <p>"His name is Ronald, and his room is No. 32—on the first floor, Sir + Henry."</p> + <p>"Very good. I'll take him up there at once."</p> + <p>"Shall I help you, Sir Henry? Perhaps he could be carried up. One of the waiters + could take his feet, or perhaps it would be better to have two."</p> + <p>"There's not the slightest necessity. He'll be able to walk in a minute—with + a little assistance. Ah, that's better!" The abrupt manner in which Sir Henry + addressed the hotel proprietor insensibly softened itself into the best bedside + manner when he spoke to the patient on the carpet, who, from a sitting posture, was + now endeavouring to struggle to his feet. "You think you can get up, eh? Well, it + won't do you any harm. That's the way!" Sir Henry assisted the young man to rise, and + supported him with his arm. "Now, the next thing is to get him to his room. No, no, + not you, Willsden—you're too small. Where's that gentleman I was sitting with a + few minutes ago? Ah, thank you"—as Colwyn stepped forward and took the other + arm—"now, let us take him gently upstairs."</p> + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p> + <p>The young man allowed himself to be led away without resistance. He walked, or + rather stumbled, along between his guides like a man in a dream. Colwyn noticed that + his eyes were half-closed, and that his head sagged slightly from side to side as he + was led along.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> + A waiter held open the glass doors which led into the lounge, and a palpitating + chambermaid, hastily summoned from the upper regions, tripped ahead up the broad + carpeted stairs and along the passage to show the way to the young man's bedroom.</p> + <hr style="width: 35%;" size="6" /> + <h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + <p>Sir Henry dismissed the chambermaid at the door, and Colwyn and he lifted the + young man on to the bed. He lay like a man in a stupor, breathing heavily, his face + flushed, his eyes nearly closed. Sir Henry drew up the blind, and by the additional + light examined him thoroughly, listening closely to the action of his heart, and + examining the pupils of his eyes by rolling back the upper lid with some small + instrument he took from his pocket.</p> + <p>"He'll do now," he said, after loosening the patient's clothes for his greater + comfort. "He'll come to in about five minutes, and may be all right again shortly + afterwards. But there are certain peculiar features about this case which are new in + my experience, and rather alarm me. Certainly the young man ought not to be left to + himself. His friends should be sent for. Do you know anything about him? Is he + staying at the hotel alone? I only arrived here last night."</p> + <p>"I believe he is staying at the hotel alone. He has been here for a fortnight or + more, and I have never seen him speak to anybody, though I have exchanged nods with + him every morning. His principal recreation seems to lie in taking long solitary + walks along the coast. He has been in the habit of going out every day, and not + returning until dinner is half over. Perhaps the hotel proprietor knows who his + friends are."</p> + <p>"Would you be so kind as to step downstairs and inquire? I do not wish to leave + him, but his friends should be telegraphed to at once and asked to come and take + charge of him."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg + 22]</a></span></p> + <p>"Certainly. And I'll send the telegram while I am down there."</p> + <p>But Colwyn returned in a few moments to say that the hotel proprietor knew nothing + of his guest. He had never stayed in the house before, and he had booked his room by + a trunk call from London. On arrival he had filled in the registration paper in the + name of James Ronald, but had left blank the spaces for his private and business + addresses. He looked such a gentleman that the proprietor had not ventured to draw + his attention to the omissions.</p> + <p>"Another instance of how hotels neglect to comply with the requirements of the + Defence of the Realm Act!" exclaimed Sir Henry. "Really, it is very awkward. I hardly + know, in the circumstances, how to act. Speaking as a medical man, I say that he + should not be left alone, but if he orders us out of his room when he recovers his + senses what are we to do? Can you suggest anything?" He shot a keen glance at his + companion.</p> + <p>"I should be in a better position to answer you if I knew what you consider him to + be really suffering from. I was under the impression it was a bad case of + shell-shock, but your remarks suggest that it is something worse. May I ask, as you + are a medical man, what you consider the nature of his illness?"</p> + <p>Sir Henry bestowed another searching glance on the speaker. He noted, for the + first time, the keen alertness and intellectuality of the other's face. It was a fine + strong face, with a pair of luminous grey eyes, a likeable long nose, and + clean-shaven, humorous mouth—a man to trust and depend upon.</p> + <p>"I hardly know what to do," said Sir Henry, after a lengthy pause, which he had + evidently devoted to considering the wisdom of acceding to his companion's re<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span>quest. "This + gentleman has not consulted me professionally, and I hardly feel justified in + confiding my hurried and imperfect diagnosis of his case, without his knowledge, to a + perfect stranger. On the other hand, there are reasons why somebody should know, if + we are to help him in his weak state. Perhaps, sir, if you told me your + name——"</p> + <p>"Certainly: my name is Colwyn—Grant Colwyn."</p> + <p>"You are the famous American detective of that name?"</p> + <p>"You are good enough to say so."</p> + <p>"Why not? Who has not heard of you, and your skill in the unravelling of crime? + There are many people on both sides of the Atlantic who regard you as a public + benefactor. But I am surprised. You do not at all resemble my idea of Colwyn."</p> + <p>"Why not?"</p> + <p>"You do not talk like an American, for one thing."</p> + <p>"You forget I have been over here long enough to learn the language. Besides, I am + half English."</p> + <p>Sir Henry laughed good-humouredly.</p> + <p>"That's a fair answer, Mr. Colwyn. Of course, your being Colwyn alters the + question. I have no hesitation in confiding in you. I am Sir Henry Durwood—no + doubt you have heard of me. Naturally, I have to be careful."</p> + <p>Colwyn looked at his companion with renewed interest. Who had not heard of Sir + Henry Durwood, the nerve specialist whose skill had made his name a household word + amongst the most exclusive women in England, and, incidentally, won him a knighthood? + There were professional detractors who hinted that Sir Henry had climbed into the + heaven of Harley Street and fat fees by the ladder of social influence which a + wealthy, well-born wife had provided, with no qualifications of his own ex<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span>cept "the best + bedside manner in England" and a thorough knowledge of the weaknesses of the feminine + temperament. But his admirers—and they were legion—declared that Sir + Henry Durwood was the only man in London who really understood how to treat the + complex nervous system of the present generation. These thoughts ran through Colwyn's + mind as he murmured that the opinion of such an eminent specialist as Sir Henry + Durwood on the case before them must naturally outweigh his own.</p> + <p>"You are very good to say so." Sir Henry spoke as though the tribute were no more + than his due. "In my opinion, the symptoms of this young man point to epilepsy, and + his behaviour downstairs was due to a seizure from which he is slowly + recovering."</p> + <p>"Epilepsy! Haut or petit mal?"</p> + <p>"The lesser form—petit mal, in my opinion."</p> + <p>"But are his symptoms consistent with the form of epilepsy known as petit mal, Sir + Henry? I thought in that lesser form of the disease the victim merely suffered from + slight seizures of transient unconsciousness, without convulsions, regaining control + of himself after losing himself, to speak broadly, for a few seconds or so."</p> + <p>"Ah, I see you know something of the disease. That simplifies matters. The + layman's mind is usually at sea when it comes to discussing a complicated affection + of the nervous system like epilepsy. You are more or less right in your definition of + petit mal. But that is the simple form, without complications. In this case there are + complications, in my opinion. I should say that this young man's attack was combined + with the form of epilepsy known as <i>furor epilepticus</i>."</p> + <p>"I am afraid you are getting beyond my depth, Sir Henry. What is <i>furor + epilepticus</i>?"</p> + <p>"It is a term applied to the violence sometimes dis<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span>played by the patient during an attack + of petit mal. The manifestation is extreme violence—usually much greater than + in violent anger, as a rule."</p> + <p>"I believe there are cases on record of epileptics having committed the most + violent outrages against those nearest and dearest to them. Is that what you mean by + <i>furor epilepticus</i>?"</p> + <p>"Yes; but that attacks are generally directed towards strangers—rarely + towards loved ones, though there have been such cases."</p> + <p>"I begin to understand. When we were at the breakfast table your professional eye + diagnosed this young man's symptoms—his nervous tremors, his excitability, and + the extravagant action with the knife—as premonitory symptoms of an attack of + <i>furor epilepticus</i>, in which the sufferer would be liable to a dangerous + outburst of violence?"</p> + <p>"Exactly. The minor symptoms suggested petit mal, but the act of sticking the + knife into the table pointed strongly to the complication of <i>furor epileptic</i>. + That was why I went over to your table to have your assistance in case of + trouble."</p> + <p>"You feared he would attack one of the guests?"</p> + <p>"Yes, epileptics are extremely dangerous in that condition, and will commit murder + if they are in possession of a weapon. There have been cases in which they have + succeeded in killing the victims of their fury."</p> + <p>"Without being conscious of it?"</p> + <p>"Without being conscious of it then or afterwards. After the patient recovers from + one of these attacks his mind is generally a complete blank, but occasionally he will + have a troubled or confused sense of something having happened to him—like a + man awakened from a bad dream, which he cannot recall. This young man<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> may come to his + senses without remembering anything which occurred downstairs, or he may be vaguely + alarmed, and ask a number of questions. In either case, it will be some + time—from half an hour to several hours—before his mind begins to work + normally again."</p> + <p>"Do you think it was his intention, when he got up from his table, to attack the + group at the table nearest him—that elderly clergyman and his party?"</p> + <p>"I think it highly probable that he would have attacked the first person within + his reach—that is why I wanted to prevent him."</p> + <p>"But he didn't carry the knife with him from his table."</p> + <p>"My dear sir"—Sir Henry's voice conveyed the proper amount of professional + superiority—"you speak as though you thought a victim of <i>furor + epilepticus</i> was a rational being. He is nothing of the kind. While the attack + lasts he is an uncontrollable maniac, not responsible for his actions in the + slightest degree."</p> + <p>"But, if he is capable of conceiving the idea of attacking his fellow creatures, + surely he is capable of picking up a knife for the purpose, particularly when he has + just previously had one in his hand?" urged Colwyn. "I have no intention of setting + up my opinion against yours, Sir Henry, but there are certain aspects of this young + man's illness which are not altogether consistent with my own experience of + epileptics. As a criminologist, I have given some study to the effect of epilepsy and + other nervous diseases on the criminal temperament. For instance, this young man did + not give the usual cry of an epileptic when he sprang up from the table. And if it is + merely an attack of petit mal, why is he so long in recovering consciousness?"</p> + <p>"The so-called epileptic cry is not invariably present,<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> and petit mal is sometimes the + half-way house to haut mal," responded Sir Henry. "I have said that this case + presents several unusual features, but, in my opinion, there is nothing absolutely + inconsistent with epilepsy, combined with <i>furor epilepticus</i>. And here is one + symptom rarely found in any fit except an epileptic seizure." The specialist pointed + to a faint fleck of foam which showed beneath the young man's brown moustache.</p> + <p>Colwyn bent over him and wiped his lips with his handkerchief. As he did so the + young man's eyes unclosed. He regarded Colwyn languidly for a moment or two, and then + sat upright on the bed.</p> + <p>"Who are you?" he exclaimed.</p> + <p>"It's quite all right, Mr. Ronald," said the specialist, in his most soothing + bedside manner. "Just take things easily. You have been ill, but you are almost + yourself again. Let me feel your pulse—ha, very good indeed! We will have you + on your legs in no time."</p> + <p>The young man verified the truth of the latter prediction by springing off his bed + and regarding his visitors keenly. There was now, at all events, no lack of sanity + and intelligence in his gaze.</p> + <p>"What has happened? How did I get here?"</p> + <p>"You fainted, and we brought you up to your room," interposed Colwyn tactfully, + before Sir Henry could speak.</p> + <p>"Awfully kind of you. I remember now. I felt a bit seedy as I went downstairs, but + I thought it would pass off. I don't remember much more about it. I hope I didn't + make too much of an ass of myself before the others, going off like a girl in that + way. You must have had no end of a bother in dragging me upstairs—very good of + you to take the trouble." He smiled faintly, and produced a cigarette case.<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p> + <p>"How do you feel now?" asked Sir Henry Durwood solemnly, disregarding the + proffered case.</p> + <p>"A bit as though I'd been kicked on the top of the head by a horse, but it'll soon + pass off. Fact is, I got a touch of sun when I was out there"—he waved his hand + vaguely towards the East—"and it gives me a bit of trouble at times. But I'll + be all right directly. I'm sorry to have given you so much trouble."</p> + <p>He proffered this explanation with an easy courtesy, accompanied by a slight + deprecating smile which admirably conveyed the regret of a well-bred man for having + given trouble to strangers. It was difficult to reconcile his self-control with his + previous extravagance downstairs. But to Colwyn it was apparent that his composure + was simulated, the effort of a sensitive man who had betrayed a weakness to + strangers, for the fingers which held a cigarette trembled slightly, and there were + troubled shadows in the depths of the dark blue eyes. Colwyn admired the young man's + pluck—he would wish to behave the same way himself in similar circumstances, he + felt—and he realised that the best service he and Sir Henry Durwood could + render their fellow guest was to leave him alone.</p> + <p>But Sir Henry was far from regarding the matter in the same light. As a doctor he + was more at home in other people's bedrooms than his own, for rumour whispered that + Lady Durwood was so jealous of her husband's professional privileges as a fashionable + ladies' physician that she was in the habit of administering strong doses of + matrimonial truths to him every night at home. Sir Henry settled himself in his + chair, adjusted his eye-glasses more firmly on his nose and regarded the young man + standing by the mantelpiece with a bland pro<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" + id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span>fessional smile, slightly dashed by the recollection + that he was not receiving a fee for his visit.</p> + <p>"You have made a good recovery, but you'll need care," he said. "Speaking as a + professional man—I am Sir Henry Durwood—I think it would be better for + you if you had somebody with you who understood your case. With + your—er—complaint, it is very desirable that you should not be left to + the mercy of strangers. I would advise, strongly advise you, to communicate with your + friends. I shall be only too happy to do so on your behalf if you will give me their + address. In the meantime—until they arrive—my advice to you is to + rest."</p> + <p>A look of annoyance flashed through the young man's eyes. He evidently resented + the specialist's advice; indeed, his glance plainly revealed that he regarded it as a + piece of gratuitous impertinence. He answered coldly:</p> + <p>"Many thanks, Sir Henry, but I think I shall be able to look after myself."</p> + <p>"That is not an uncommon feature of your complaint," said the specialist. An + oracular shake of the head conveyed more than the words.</p> + <p>"What do you imagine my complaint, as you term it, to be?" asked the young man + curtly.</p> + <p>Colwyn wondered whether even a fashionable physician, used to the freedom with + which fashionable ladies discussed their ailments, would have the courage to tell a + stranger that he regarded him as an epileptic. The matter was not put to the + test—perhaps fortunately—for at that moment there was a sharp tap at the + door, which opened to admit a chambermaid who seemed the last word in frills and + smartness.</p> + <p>"If you please, Sir Henry," said the girl, with a sidelong glance at the tall + handsome young man by the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg + 30]</a></span> mantelpiece, "Lady Durwood would be obliged if you would go to her + room at once."</p> + <p>It speaks well for Sir Henry Durwood that the physician was instantly merged in + the husband. "Tell Lady Durwood I will come at once," he said. "You'll excuse me," he + added, with a courtly bow to his patient. "Perhaps—if you wish—you might + care to see me later."</p> + <p>"Many thanks, Sir Henry, but there will be no need." He bowed gravely to the + specialist, but smiled cordially and held out his hand to Colwyn, as the latter + prepared to follow Sir Henry out of the room. "I hope to see you later," he said.</p> + <p>But when Colwyn, after a day spent on the golf-links, went into the dining-room + for dinner that evening, the young man's place was vacant. After the meal Colwyn went + to the office to inquire if Mr. Ronald was still unwell, and learnt, to his surprise, + that he had departed from the hotel an hour or so after his illness.<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></p> + <hr style="width: 35%;" size="6" /> + <h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + <p>Lunch was over the following day, and the majority of the hotel guests were + assembled in the lounge, some sitting round a log fire which roared and crackled in + the old-fashioned fireplace, others wandering backwards and forwards to the hotel + entrance to cast a weather eye on the black and threatening sky.</p> + <p>During the night there had been one of those violent changes in the weather with + which the denizens of the British Isles are not altogether unfamiliar; a heavy storm + had come shrieking down the North Sea, and though the rain had ceased about eleven + o'clock the wind had blown hard all through the night, bringing with it from the + Arctic a driving sleet and the first touch of bitter, icy, winter cold.</p> + <p>The ladies of the hotel, who the previous day had paraded the front in light + summer frocks, sat shivering round the fire in furs; and the men walked up and down + in little groups discussing the weather and the war. The golfers stood apart + debating, after their wont, the possibility of trying a round in spite of the + weather. The elderly clergyman was prepared to risk it if he could find a partner, + and, with the aid of an umbrella held upside down, was demonstrating to an attentive + circle the possibility of going round the most open course in England in the teeth of + the fiercest gale that ever blew, provided that a brassy was used instead of a + driver.</p> + <p>"I don't see how you could drive a ball with either to-day," said one of the + doubtful ones. "You'd be driving<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" + id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> right against the wind for the first four holes, and + when you have the wind behind you at the bend in the cliff by the fifth, the force of + the gale would probably carry your ball half a mile out to sea. These links here are + supposed to be the most exposed in England."</p> + <p>"My dear sir, you surely do not call this a gale," retorted the clergyman. "I have + played some of my best games in a stronger wind than this. And as for this being the + most exposed course in England—well, let me ask you one question: have you ever + played over the Worthing course with a strong northeast gale—a gale, mind you, + not a wind—sweeping over the Downs?"</p> + <p>"Can't say I have," grunted the previous speaker, a tall cadaverous man, wrapped + from head to foot in a great grey ulster, and wearing woollen gloves. "In fact, I've + never been on the Worthing course."</p> + <p>"I thought not." The clergyman's face showed a golfer's satisfaction at having + tripped a fellow player. "The Worthing course is the most difficult course in + England, all up hill and down dale, and full of pitfalls for those who don't know its + peculiarities. I had a very remarkable experience there, last year, with the crack + local player—his handicap was plus two. We played a round in a gale with the + wind whistling over the high downs at the rate of seventy or eighty miles an hour. My + partner didn't want to play at first because of the weather, but I persuaded him to + go round, and I beat him by two up and four to play solely by relying on the brassy + and midiron. He stuck to the driver, and lost in consequence. I'll just show you how + the game went. Suppose the first hole to be just beyond the hall door there, and you + drive off from here. Now, imagine that umbrella stand—would you mind moving + away a little from it, sir? Thank you—to be a group of fir trees fully a + hundred yards to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg + 33]</a></span> the right of the fairway. Well, I got a shot 160 yards up the fairway + with a low straight ball which never lifted more than a yard from the green, but my + opponent, instead of sticking to the brassy, as I did, preferred to use his big + driver, and what do you think happened to him? The wind took his ball clean over the + fir trees."</p> + <p>The story was interrupted by the sudden entrance from outside of a young officer + who had been taking a turn on the front. He strode hurriedly into the lounge, with a + look of excitement on his good-humoured boyish face, and accosted the golfers, who + happened to be nearest the door.</p> + <p>"I say, you fellows, what do you think has happened? You remember that chap who + fainted yesterday morning? Well, he's wanted for committing a murder!"</p> + <p>The piece of news created the sensation that its imparter had counted upon. "A + murder!" was echoed from different parts of the lounge in varying degrees of horror, + amazement and dread, and the majority of the guests came eagerly crowding round to + hear the details.</p> + <p>"Yes, a murder!" repeated the young officer, with relish. "And, what's more, he + committed it after he left here yesterday. He walked across to some inn a few miles + from here along the coast, put up there for the night, and in the middle of the night + stabbed some old chap who was staying there."</p> + <p>There was a lengthy pause while the hotel guests digested this startling + information, and endeavoured to register anew their previous faint impressions of the + young man of the alcove table in the new light of his personality as an alleged + murderer. The pause was followed by an excited hum of conversation and eager + questions, the ladies all talking at once.</p> + <p>"What a providential escape we have all had!" ex<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span>claimed the clergyman's wife, her fresh + comely face turning pale.</p> + <p>"That's just what I said myself, madam, when I heard the news," replied the young + officer.</p> + <p>"I presume this murderous young ruffian has been secured?" asked the clergyman, + who had turned even paler than his wife. "The police, I hope, have him under + arrest."</p> + <p>The young officer shook his head.</p> + <p>"He's shown them a clean pair of heels. He may be heading back this way, for all I + know. There will be a hue and cry over the whole of Norfolk for him by to-night, but + murderers are usually very crafty, and difficult to catch. I bet they won't catch him + before he murders somebody else."</p> + <p>The men looked at one another gravely, and some of the ladies gave vent to cries + of alarm, and clung to their husband's arms. The clergyman turned angrily on the man + who had brought the news.</p> + <p>"What do you mean, sir, by blurting out a piece of news like this before a number + of ladies?" he said sternly. "It was imprudent and foolish in the last degree. You + have alarmed them exceedingly."</p> + <p>"Oh, that's all tosh!" replied the other rudely. "They were bound to hear of it + sooner or later; why, everybody on the front is talking about it. I thought you'd be + awfully bucked to hear the news, seeing that you were sitting at the next table to + him yesterday morning."</p> + <p>"Who gave you this information?" asked Colwyn, who had just come down stairs + wearing a motor coat and cap, and paused on his way to the door on hearing the loud + voices of the excited group round the young officer.</p> + <p>"One of the fishermen on the front. The police constable at the place where the + murder was committed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg + 35]</a></span>—a little village with some outlandish name—came over here + to report the news. This is the nearest police station to the spot, it seems."</p> + <p>"But is he quite certain that the man who is supposed to have committed the murder + is the young man who fainted yesterday morning?" asked Sir Henry Durwood, who had + joined the group. "Has he been positively identified?"</p> + <p>"The fisherman tells me that there's no doubt it's him—the description's + identical. He cleared out before the murder was discovered. There's a rare hue and + cry all along the coast. They are organizing search parties. There's one going out + from here this afternoon. I'm going with it."</p> + <p>Colwyn left the group of hotel guests, and went to the front door. Sir Henry + Durwood, after a moment's hesitation, followed him. The detective was standing in the + hotel porch, thoughtfully smoking a cigar, and looking out over the raging sea. He + nodded cordially to the specialist.</p> + <p>"What do you think of this story?" asked Sir Henry.</p> + <p>"I was just about to walk down to the police station to make some inquiries," + responded Colwyn. "It is impossible to tell from that man's story how much is truth + and how much mere gossip."</p> + <p>"I'm afraid it's true enough," replied Sir Henry Durwood. "You'll remember I + warned him yesterday to send for his friends. A man in his condition of health should + not have been permitted to wander about the country unattended. He has probably had + another attack of <i>furor epilepticus</i>, and killed somebody while under its + influence. Dear, dear, what a dreadful thing! It may be said that I should have taken + a firmer hand with him yesterday, but what more could I have done? It's a very<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> awkward + situation—very. I hope you'll remember, Mr. Colwyn, that I did all that was + humanly possibly for a professional man to do—in fact, I went beyond the bounds + of professional decorum, in tendering advice to a perfect stranger. And you will also + remember that what I told you about his condition was in the strictest confidence. I + should like very much to accompany you to the police station, if you have no + objection—I feel strongly interested in the case."</p> + <p>"I shall be glad if you will come," replied the detective.</p> + <p>Colwyn turned down the short street to the front, where a footpath protected by a + hand rail had been made along the edge of the cliff for the benefit of jaded London + visitors who wanted to get the best value for their money in the bracing Norfolk air. + At the present moment that air, shrieking across the North Sea with almost hurricane + force, was too bracing for weak nerves on the exposed path, and it was real hard work + to force a way, even with the help of the handrail, against the wind, to say nothing + of the spray which was flung up in clouds from the thundering masses of yellow waves + dashing at the foot of the cliffs below. Sir Henry Durwood, at any rate, was very + glad when his companion turned away from the cliffs into one of the narrow tortuous + streets running off the front into High Street.</p> + <p>Colwyn paused in front of a stone building, half way up the street, which + displayed the words, "County Police," on a board outside. Knots of people were + standing about in the road—fishermen in jerseys and sea boots, some women, and + a sprinkling of children—brought together by the news of murder, but kept from + encroaching on the sacred domain of law and order by a massive red-faced country + policeman, who stood at the gate in an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" + id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> awkward pose of official dignity, staring straight in + front of him, ignoring the eager questions which were showered on him by the crowd. + The group of people nearest the gate fell back a little as they approached, and the + policeman on duty looked at them inquiringly.</p> + <p>Colwyn asked him the name of the officer in charge of the district, and received + the reply that it was Superintendent Galloway. The policeman looked somewhat doubtful + when Colwyn asked him to take in his card with the request for an interview. He + compromised between his determination to do the right thing and his desire not to + offend two well-dressed gentlemen by taking Colwyn into his confidence.</p> + <p>"Well, you see, sir, it's like this," he said, sinking his voice so that his + remarks should not be heard by the surrounding rabble. "I don't like to interrupt + Superintendent Galloway unless it's very important. The chief constable is with + him."</p> + <p>"Do you mean Mr. Cromering, from Norwich?" asked Colwyn.</p> + <p>The policeman nodded.</p> + <p>"He came over here by the morning train," he explained.</p> + <p>"Very good. I know Mr. Cromering well. Will you please take this card to the chief + constable and say that I should be glad of the favour of a short interview? This is a + piece of luck," he added to Sir Henry, as the constable took the card and disappeared + into the building. "We shall now be able to find out all we want to know."</p> + <p>The police constable came hastening back, and with a very respectful air informed + them that Mr. Cromering would be only too happy to see Mr. Colwyn. He led them + forthwith into the building, down a passage, knocked at a door, and without waiting + for a response,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg + 38]</a></span> ushered them into a large room and quietly withdrew.</p> + <p>There were two officials in the room. One, in uniform, a heavily built stout man + with sandy hair and a red freckled face, sat at a large roll-top desk writing at the + dictation of the other, who wore civilian clothes. The second official was small and + elderly, of dry and meagre appearance, with a thin pale face, and sunken blue eyes + beneath gold-rimmed spectacles. This gentleman left off dictating as Colwyn and Sir + Henry Durwood entered, and advanced to greet the detective with a look which might + have been mistaken for gratitude in a less important personage.</p> + <p>Mr. Cromering's gratitude to Colwyn was not due to any assistance he had received + from the detective in the elucidation of baffling crime mysteries. It arose from an + entirely different cause. Wolfe is supposed to have said that he would sooner have + been remembered as the author of Gray's "Elegy in a Country Churchyard" than as the + conqueror of Quebec. Mr. Cromering would sooner have been the editor of the + <i>English Review</i> than the chief constable of Norfolk. His tastes were bookish; + Nature had intended him for the librarian of a circulating library: the safe pilot of + middle class ladies through the ocean of new fiction which overwhelms the British + Isles twice a year. His particular hobby was paleontology. He was the author of + <i>The Jurassic Deposits of Norfolk, with Some Remarks on the Kimeridge + Clay</i>—an exhaustive study of the geological formation of the county and the + remains of prehistoric reptiles, fishes, mollusca and crustacea which had been + discovered therein. This work, which had taken six years to prepare, had almost been + lost to the world through the carelessness of the Postal Department, which had + allowed the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> + manuscript to go astray while in transit from Norfolk to the London publishers.</p> + <p>The distracted author had stirred up the postal authorities at London and Norwich, + and had ultimately received a courteous communication from the Postmaster General to + the effect that all efforts to trace the missing packet had failed. A friend of Mr. + Cromering's suggested that he should invoke the aid of the famous detective Colwyn, + who had a name for solving mysteries which baffled the police. Mr. Cromering took the + advice and wrote to Colwyn, offering to mention his name in a preface to <i>The + Jurassic Deposits</i> if he succeeded in recovering the missing manuscript. Colwyn, + by dint of bringing to bear a little more intelligence and energy than the postal + officials had displayed, ran the manuscript to earth in three days, and forwarded it + to the owner with a courteous note declining the honour of the offered preface as too + great a reward for such a small service.</p> + <p>"Very happy to meet you, Mr. Colwyn," said the chief constable, as he came forward + with extended hand. "I've long wanted to thank you personally for your + kindness—your great kindness to me last year. Although I feel I can never repay + it, I'm glad to have the opportunity of expressing it."</p> + <p>"I'm afraid you are over-estimating a very small service," said Colwyn, with a + smile.</p> + <p>"Very small?" The chief constable's emphasis of the words suggested that his pride + as an author had been hurt. "If you had not recovered the manuscript, a work of + considerable interest to students of British paleontology would have been lost. I + must show you a letter I have just received from Sir Thomas Potter, of the British + Museum, agreeing with my conclusions about the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" + id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> fossil remains of Ichthyosaurus, Plesiosaurus, and + Mosasaurs, discovered last year at Roslyn Hole. It is very gratifying to me; very + gratifying. But what can I do for you, Mr. Colwyn?"</p> + <p>"First let me introduce to you Sir Henry Durwood," said Colwyn.</p> + <p>"Durwood? Did you say Durwood?" said the little man, eagerly advancing upon the + specialist with outstretched hand. "I'm delighted to meet one of our topmost men of + science. Your illuminating work on Elephas Meridionalis is a classic."</p> + <p>"I'm afraid you're confusing Sir Henry with a different Durwood," said the + detective, coming to the rescue. "Sir Henry Durwood is the distinguished specialist + of Harley Street, and not the paleontologist of that name. We have called to make + some inquiries about the murder which was committed somewhere near here last + night."</p> + <p>"The ruling passion, Mr. Colwyn, the ruling passion! Personally I should be only + too glad of your assistance in the case in question, but I'm afraid there's no deep + mystery to unravel—it's not worth your while. It would be like cracking a nut + with a steam hammer for you to devote your brains to this case. All the indications + point strongly to one man."</p> + <p>"A young man who was staying at the <i>Grand</i> till yesterday?" inquired the + detective.</p> + <p>The chief constable nodded.</p> + <p>"We're looking for a young man who's been staying at the <i>Grand</i> for some + weeks past under the name of Ronald. He's a stranger to the district, and nobody + seems to know anything about him. Perhaps you gentlemen can tell me something about + him."</p> + <p>"Very little, I'm afraid," replied Colwyn. "I've seen<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> him at meal times, and nodded to him, + but never spoken to him till yesterday, when he had a fainting fit at breakfast. Sir + Henry Durwood and I helped him to his bedroom, and exchanged a few remarks with him + on his recovery."</p> + <p>"Yes, I've been told of that illness," said Mr. Cromering, meditating. "Did he do + or say anything while you were with him that would throw any light on the subsequent + tragic events of the night, for which he is now under suspicion?"</p> + <p>Colwyn related what had happened at breakfast and afterwards. Mr. Cromering + listened attentively, and turning to Sir Henry Durwood asked him if he had seen + Ronald before the previous day.</p> + <p>"I saw him yesterday for the first time at the breakfast table," replied Sir Henry + Durwood. "I arrived only the previous night. He was taken ill at breakfast. Mr. + Colwyn and I assisted him to his room and left him there. I know nothing whatever + about him."</p> + <p>"What was the nature of his illness?" inquired the chief constable.</p> + <p>"It had some of the symptoms of a seizure," replied Sir Henry guardedly. "I begged + him, when he recovered, not to leave his room. I even offered to communicate with his + friends, by telephone, if he would give me their address, but he refused."</p> + <p>"It is a pity he did not take your advice," responded the chief constable. "He + appears to have left the hotel shortly after his illness, and walked along the coast + to a little hamlet called Flegne, about ten miles from here. He reached there in the + evening, and put up at the village inn, the <i>Golden Anchor</i>, for the night. He + left early in the morning, before anybody was up. Shortly afterwards the body of Mr. + Roger Glenthorpe,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg + 42]</a></span> an elderly archaeologist, who had been staying at the inn for some + time past making researches into the fossil remains common to that part of Norfolk, + was found in a pit near the house. The tracks of boot-prints from near the inn to the + mouth of the pit, and back again, indicate that Mr. Glenthorpe was murdered in his + bedroom at the inn, and his body afterwards carried by the murderer to the pit in + which it was found."</p> + <p>"In order to conceal the crime?" said Colwyn.</p> + <p>"Precisely. Two men employed by Mr. Glenthorpe saw the footprints earlier in the + morning, and when it was discovered that Mr. Glenthorpe was missing, one of them was + lowered into the pit by a rope and found the body at the bottom. The pit forms a + portion of a number of so-called hut circles, or prehistoric shelters of the early + Briton, which are not uncommon in this part of Norfolk."</p> + <p>"And you have strong grounds for believing that this young man Ronald, who was + staying at the <i>Grand</i> till yesterday, is the murderer?"</p> + <p>"The very strongest. He slept in the room next to the murdered man's, and + disappeared hurriedly in the early morning from the inn some time before the body was + discovered. It is his boot-tracks which led to and from the pit where the body was + found. A considerable sum of money has been stolen from the deceased, and we have + ascertained that Ronald was in desperate straits for money. Another point against + Ronald is that Mr. Glenthorpe was stabbed, and a knife which was used by Ronald at + the dinner table that night is missing. It is believed that the murder was committed + with this knife. But if you feel interested in the case, Mr. Col<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span>wyn, you had better + hear the report of Police Constable Queensmead."</p> + <p>The chief constable touched a bell, and directed the policeman who answered it to + bring in Constable Queensmead.</p> + <p>The policeman who appeared in answer to this summons was a thickset sturdy Norfolk + man, with an intelligent face and shrewd dark eyes. On the chief constable informing + him that he was to give the gentlemen the details of the <i>Golden Anchor</i> murder, + he produced a notebook from his tunic, and commenced the story with official + precision.</p> + <p>Ronald had arrived at the inn before dark on the previous evening, and had asked + for a bed for the night. A little later Mr. Glenthorpe, the murdered man, who had + been staying at the inn for some time past, had come in for his dinner, and was so + pleased to meet a gentleman in that rough and lonely place that he had asked Ronald + to dine with him. The dinner was served in an upstairs sitting-room, and during the + course of the meal Mr. Glenthorpe talked freely of his scientific researches in the + district, and informed his guest that he had that day been to Heathfield to draw + £300 to purchase a piece of land containing some valuable fossil remains which + he intended to excavate. The two gentlemen sat talking after dinner till between ten + and eleven, and then retired to rest in adjoining rooms, in a wing of the inn + occupied by nobody else. In the morning Ronald departed before anybody, except the + servant, was up, refusing to wait for his boots to be cleaned. The servant, who had + had the boots in her hands, had noticed that one of the boots had a circular rubber + heel on it, but not the other. Ronald gave her a pound to pay for his bed, and the + note was one of the first Treas<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" + id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span>ury issue, as were the notes which Mr. Glenthorpe had + drawn from the bank at Heathfield the day before. The men who had seen the footprints + to the pit earlier in the morning, informed Queensmead of their discovery on learning + that Mr. Glenthorpe had disappeared. Queensmead examined the footprints, and, with + the assistance of the men, recovered the body. Queensmead telephoned a description of + Ronald to the police stations along the coast, then mounted his bicycle and caught + the train at Leyland in order to report the matter to the district headquarters at + Durrington.</p> + <p>"I suppose there is no doubt that the young man who stayed at the inn is identical + with Ronald," said the detective, when the constable had finished his story. "Do the + descriptions tally in every respect?"</p> + <p>"Read the particulars you have prepared for the hand-bills, Queensmead," said the + chief constable.</p> + <p>The constable produced a paper from his pocket and read: "Description of wanted + man: About 28 years of age, five feet nine or ten inches high, fair complexion rather + sunburnt, blue eyes, straight nose, fair hair, tooth-brush moustache, clean-cut + features, well-shaped hands and feet, white, even teeth. Was attired in grey Norfolk + or sporting lounge jacket, knickerbockers and stockings to match, with soft grey hat + of same material. Wore a gold signet-ring on little finger of left hand. + Distinguishing marks, a small star-shaped scar on left cheek, slightly drags left + foot in walking. Manner superior, evidently a gentleman."</p> + <p>"That is conclusive enough," said Colwyn. "It tallies in every respect. The scar + is an unmistakable mark. I noticed it the first time I saw Ronald."</p> + <p>"I noticed it also," said Sir Henry Durwood.</p> + <p>"It seems a clear case to me," said the chief constable. "I have signed a warrant + for Ronald's arrest, and Super<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" + id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span>intendent Galloway has notified all the local stations + along the coast to have the district searched. We think it very possible that Ronald + is in hiding somewhere in the marshes. We have also notified the district railway + stations to be on the lookout for anybody answering his description, in case he tries + to escape by rail."</p> + <p>"It seems a strange case," remarked the detective thoughtfully. "Why should a + young man of Ronald's type leave his hotel and go across to this remote inn, and + commit this brutal murder?"</p> + <p>"He was very short of money. We have ascertained that he had been requested to + leave the hotel here because he could not pay his bill. He has paid nothing since he + has been here, and owed more than £30. The proprietor told him yesterday + morning, as he was going in to breakfast, that he must leave the hotel at once if he + could not pay his bill. He went away shortly after the scene in the breakfast room + which was witnessed by you gentlemen, and left his luggage behind him. I suspect the + proprietor would not allow him to take his luggage until he had discharged his + bill."</p> + <p>"It strikes me as a remarkable case, nevertheless," said Colwyn. "I should like to + look into it a little further, with your permission."</p> + <p>"Certainly," replied the chief constable courteously. "Superintendent Galloway + will be in charge of the case. I suggested that he should ask for a man to be sent + down from Scotland Yard, but he does not think it necessary. I feel sure that he will + be delighted to have the assistance of such a celebrated detective as yourself. When + are you starting for Flegne, Galloway?"</p> + <p>"In half an hour," replied the superintendent. "I shall have to walk from + Leyland—five miles or more. The train does not go beyond there."<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p> + <p>"Then I will drive you over in my car," said the detective.</p> + <p>"In that case perhaps you'll permit me to accompany you," said the chief + constable. "I should very much like to observe your methods."</p> + <p>"And I too," said Sir Henry Durwood.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" + id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p> + <hr style="width: 35%;" size="6" /> + <h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + <p>The road to Flegne skirted the settled and prosperous cliff uplands, thence ran + through the sea marshes which stretched along that part of the Norfolk coast as far + as the eye could reach until they were merged and lost to view in the cold northern + mists.</p> + <p>The road, after leaving the uplands, descended in a sinuous curve towards the sea, + but the party in the motor car were stopped on their way down by a young mounted + officer, who, on learning of their destination, told them they would have to make an + inland detour for some miles, as the military authorities had closed that part of the + coast to ordinary traffic.</p> + <p>As they turned away from the coast, the chief constable informed Colwyn that the + prohibited area was full of troops guarding a little bay called Leyland Hoop, where + the water was so deep that hostile transports might anchor close inshore, and where, + according to ancient local tradition,</p> + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <span class="i0">"He who would Old England win,<br /> + </span> <span class="i0">Must at the Leyland Hoop begin."<br /> + </span> + </div> + </div> + <p>After traversing a mile or so of open country, and passing through one or two + scattered villages, they turned back to the coast again on the other side of a high + green headland which marked the end of the prohibited area, and, crossing the bridge + of a shallow muddy river, found themselves in the area of the marshes.</p> + <p>It was a region of swamps and stagnant dykes, of tussock land and wet flats, with + scarcely a stir of life<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg + 48]</a></span> in any part of it, and nothing to take the eye except a stone cottage + here and there.</p> + <p>The marshes stretched from the road to the sea, nearly a mile away. Man had almost + given up the task of attempting to wrest a living from this inhospitable region. The + boat channels which threaded the ooze were choked with weed and covered with green + slime from long disuse, the little stone quays were thick with moss, the rotting + planks of a broken fishing boat were foul with the encrustations of long years, the + stone cottages by the roadside seemed deserted. Here and there the marshes had + encroached upon the far side of the road, creeping half a mile or more farther + inland, destroying the wholesome earth like rust corroding steel, and stretching + slimy tentacles towards the farmlands on the rise.</p> + <p>Humanity had retreated from the inroads of the sea only after a stubborn fight. + The ruins of an Augustinian priory, a crumbling fragment of a Norman tower, the + mouldering remnant of a castellated hall, showed how prolonged had been the struggle + with the elements of Nature before Man had acknowledged his defeat and retreated, + leaving hostages behind him. And—significant indication of the bitterness of + the fight—it was to be noted that, while the builders of a bygone generation + had built to face the sea, the handful of their successors who still kept up the + losing fight had built their beach-stone cottages with sturdy stone backs to the + road, for the greater protection of the inmates from the fierce winter gales which + swept across the marshes from the North Sea.</p> + <p>The car had travelled some miles through this desolate region when the chief + constable directed Colwyn's attention to a spire rising from the flats a mile or so + away,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> and said + it was the church of Flegne-next-sea. Colwyn increased his speed a little, and in a + few minutes the car had reached the outskirts of the little hamlet, which consisted + of a straggling row of beach-stone cottages, a few gaunt farm-houses on the rise, and + a cruciform church standing back from the village on a little hill, with high turret + or beacon lights which had warned the North Sea mariners of a former generation of + the dangers of that treacherous coast.</p> + <p>In times past Flegne-next-sea—pronounced "Fly" by the natives, "Fleen" by + etymologists, and "Flegney" by the rare intrusive Cockney—had doubtless been a + prosperous little port, but the encroaching sea had long since killed its trade, + scattered its inhabitants, and reduced it to a spectre of human habitation compelled + to keep the scene of its former activities after life had departed. Half the stone + cottages were untenanted, with broken windows, flapping doors, and gardens overgrown + with rank marsh weeds. The road through the village had fallen into disrepair, and + oozed beneath the weight of the car, a few boards thrown higgledy-piggledy across in + places representing the local effort to preserve the roadway from the invading + marshes. The little canal quay—a wooden one—was a tangle of rotting + boards and loose piles, and the stagnant green water of the shallow canal was + abandoned to a few grey geese, which honked angrily at the passing car. There was no + sign of life in the village street, and no sound except the autumn wind moaning + across the marshes and the boom of the distant sea against the breakwater.</p> + <p>"There's the inn—straight in front," said Police-Constable Queensmead, + pointing to it.</p> + <p>The <i>Golden Anchor</i> inn must have been built in the days of Sir Cloudesley + Shovel, for nothing remained of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" + id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> the maritime prosperity which had originally bestowed + the name upon the building. It was of rough stone, coloured a dirty white, with two + queer circular windows high up in the wall on one side, the other side resting on a + little, round-shouldered hill. It was built facing away from the sea like the + beach-stone cottages, from which it was separated by a patch of common. From the rear + of the inn the marshes stretched in unbroken monotony to the line of leaping white + sea dashing sullenly against the breakwater wall, and ran for miles north and south + in a desolate uniformity, still and grey as the sky above, devoid of life except for + a few migrant birds feeding in the salt creeks or winging their way seaward in + strong, silent flight. The rays of the afternoon sun, momentarily piercing the thick + clouds, fell on the white wall and round glazed windows of the inn, giving it a + sinister resemblance to a dead face.</p> + <p>Colwyn brought his car to a standstill on the edge of the saturated strip of + common.</p> + <p>"We shall have to walk across," he said.</p> + <p>"Nobody will run off with the car," said Galloway, scrambling down from his + seat.</p> + <p>"The murderer brought the body from the back of the house across this green, and + carried it up that rise in front of the inn," said Queensmead. "You cannot see the + pit from here, but it is close to that little wood on the summit. The footprints do + not show in the grass, but they are very plain in the clay a little farther on, and + lead straight to the pit."</p> + <p>"How deep is the pit?" asked Colwyn.</p> + <p>"About thirty feet. It was not an easy matter to bring up the body."</p> + <p>"We will examine the pit and the footprints later," said Mr. Cromering. "Let us go + inside first."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg + 51]</a></span></p> + <p>Picking their way across the common to the front of the inn, they encountered a + little group of men conversing underneath the rusty old anchor signboard which + dangled from a stout stanchion above the front door of the inn. Some men, wearing + sea-boots and jerseys, others in labouring garb, splashed with clay and mud, were + standing about. They ceased their conversation as the party from the motor-car + appeared around the corner, and, moving a respectful distance away, watched them + covertly.</p> + <p>The front door of the inn was closed. Superintendent Galloway tapped at it + sharply, and after the lapse of a moment or two the door was opened, and a man + appeared on the threshold. Seeing the police uniforms he stepped outside as if to + make more room for the party to enter the narrow passage from which he had emerged. + Colwyn noticed that he was so tall that he had to stoop in the old-fashioned doorway + as he came out.</p> + <p>Seen at close quarters, this man was a strange specimen of humanity. He was well + over six feet in height, and so cadaverous, thin and gaunt that he might well have + been mistaken for the presiding genius of the marshes who had stricken that part of + the Norfolk coast with aridity and barrenness. But there was no lack of strength in + his frame as he advanced briskly towards his visitors. His face was not the least + remarkable part of him. It was ridiculously small and narrow for so big a frame, with + a great curved beak of a nose, and small bright eyes set close together. Those eyes + were at the present moment glancing with bird-like swiftness from one to the other of + his visitors.</p> + <p>"You are the innkeeper—the landlord of this place?" asked Mr. Cromering.</p> + <p>"At your service, sir. Won't you go inside?" His<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> voice was the best part of him; soft + and gentle, with a cultivated accent which suggested that the speaker had known a + different environment at some time or other.</p> + <p>"Show us into a private room," said Mr. Cromering.</p> + <p>The innkeeper escorted the party along the passage, and took them into a room with + a low ceiling and sanded floor, smelling of tobacco, explaining, as he placed chairs, + that it was the bar parlour, but they would be quiet and free from interruption in + it, because he had closed the inn that day in anticipation of the police visit.</p> + <p>"Quite right—very proper," said the chief constable.</p> + <p>"Will you and the other gentlemen take any refreshment, after your journey?" + suggested the innkeeper. "I'm afraid the resources of the inn are small, but there is + some excellent old brandy."</p> + <p>He stretched out an arm towards the bell rope behind him. Colwyn noticed that his + hand was long and thin and yellow—a skeleton claw covered with parchment.</p> + <p>"Never mind the brandy just now," said Mr. Cromering, taking on himself to refuse + on behalf of his companions the proffered refreshment. "We have much to do and it + will be time enough for refreshments afterwards. We will view the body first, and + make inquiries after. Where is the body, Benson?"</p> + <p>"Upstairs, sir."</p> + <p>"Take us to the room."</p> + <p>The innkeeper led the way upstairs along a dark and narrow passage. When he + reached a door near the end, he opened it and stood aside for them to enter.</p> + <p>"This is the room," he said, in a low voice. It was Colwyn's keen eye that noted + the key in the door. "What is that key doing in the door, on the outside?" he asked. + "How long has it been there?"</p> + <p>"The maid found it there this morning, sir, when she<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> went up with Mr. Glenthorpe's hot + water. That made her suspect something must be wrong, because Mr. Glenthorpe was in + the habit of locking his door of a night and placing the key under his pillow. So, + after knocking and getting no answer, she opened the door, and found the room + empty."</p> + <p>"The door was not locked, though the key was in the door?"</p> + <p>"No, sir, and everything in the room was just as usual. Nothing had been + disturbed."</p> + <p>"And was that bedroom window open when you found the room empty?" asked + Superintendent Galloway, pointing to it through the open doorway.</p> + <p>"Yes, sir—just as you see it now. I gave orders that nothing was to be + touched."</p> + <p>"Ronald slept in this room," said Queensmead, indicating the door of the adjoining + bedroom.</p> + <p>"We will look at that later," said Galloway.</p> + <p>The interior of the room they entered was surprisingly light and cheerful and + spacious, having nothing in common with those low gloomy vaults, crammed with clumsy + furniture and moth-eaten stuffed animals, which generally pass muster as bedrooms in + English country inns. Instead of the small circular windows of the south side, there + was a large modern two-paned window in a line with the door, opening on to the other + side of the house. The bottom pane was up, and the window opened as wide as possible. + A very modern touch, unusual in a remote country inn, was a rose coloured gas globe + suspended from the ceiling, in the middle of the room. The furniture belonged to a + past period, but it was handsome and well-kept—a Spanish mahogany wardrobe, + chest of drawers and washstand with chairs to match. Modern articles, such as a small + writing-desk near the window,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg + 54]</a></span> some library books, a fountain pen, a reading-lamp by the bedside, and + an attaché case, suggested the personal possessions and modern tastes of the + last occupant. A comfortable carpet covered the floor, and some faded oil-paintings + adorned the walls.</p> + <p>The bed—a large wooden one, but not a fourposter—stood on the + left-hand side of the room from the entrance, with the head against the wall nearest + the outside passage, and the foot partly in line with the open window, which was + about eight feet away from it. The door when pushed back swung just clear of a small + bedroom table beside the bed, on which the reading lamp stood, with a book beside it. + The other side of the bed was close to the wall which divided the room from the next + bedroom, so that there was a large clear space on the outside, between the bed and + the door. The gas fitting, which was suspended from the ceiling in this open space, + hung rather low, the bottom of the globe being not more than six feet from the floor. + The globe was cracked, and the incandescent burner was broken.</p> + <p>The murdered man had been laid in the middle of the bed, and covered with a sheet. + Superintendent Galloway quietly drew the sheet away, revealing the massive white head + and clear-cut death mask of a man of sixty or sixty-five; a fine powerful face, + benign in expression, with a chin and mouth of marked character and individuality. + But the distorted contour of the half-open mouth, and the almost piteous expression + of the unclosed sightless eyes, seemed to beseech the assistance of those who now + bent over him, revealing only too clearly that death had come suddenly and + unexpectedly.</p> + <p>"He was a great archaeologist—one of the greatest in England," said Mr. + Cromering gently, with something of a tremor in his voice, as he gazed down at the + dead<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> man's + face. "To think that such a man should have been struck down by an assassin's blow. + What a loss!"</p> + <p>"Let us see how he was murdered," said the more practical Galloway, who was + standing beside his superior officer. He drew off the covering sheet as he spoke, and + dropped it lightly on the floor.</p> + <p>The body thus revealed was that of a slightly built man of medium height. It was + clad in a flannel sleeping suit, spattered with mud and clay, and oozing with water. + The arms were inclining outwards from the body, and the legs were doubled up. There + were a few spots of blood on the left breast, and immediately beneath, almost on the + left side, just visible in the stripe of the pyjama jacket, was the blow which had + caused death—a small orifice like a knife cut, just over the heart.</p> + <p>"It is a very small wound to have killed so strong a man," said Mr. Cromering. + "There is hardly any blood."</p> + <p>Sir Henry examined the wound closely. "The blow was struck with great force, and + penetrated the heart. The weapon used—a small, thin, steel instrument—and + internal bleeding, account for the small external flow."</p> + <p>"What do you mean by a thin, steel instrument?" asked Superintendent Galloway. + "Would an ordinary table-knife answer that description?"</p> + <p>"Certainly. In fact, the nature of the wound strongly suggests that it was made by + a round-headed, flat-bladed weapon, such as an ordinary table or dinner knife. The + thrust was made horizontally,—that is, across the ribs and between them, + instead of perpendicularly, which is the usual method of stabbing. Apparently the + murderer realised that his knife was too broad for the purpose, and turned it the + other way, so as to make sure of penetrating the ribs and reaching the heart."</p> + <p>"Does not that suggest a rather unusual knowledge of<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> human anatomy on the murderer's part?" + asked Mr. Cromering.</p> + <p>"I do not think so. Anybody can tell how far apart the human ribs are by feeling + them."</p> + <p>"It is easy to see, Sir Henry, that the wound was made by a thin-bladed knife, but + why do you think it was also round-headed?" asked Superintendent Galloway. "Might it + not have been a sharp-pointed one?"</p> + <p>"Or even a dagger?" suggested Mr. Cromering.</p> + <p>"Certainly not a dagger. The ordinary dagger would have made a wider perforation + with a corresponding increase in the blood-flow. My theory of a round-headed knife is + based on the circumstance of a portion of the deceased's pyjama jacket having been + carried into the wound. A sharp-pointed knife would have made a clean cut through the + jacket."</p> + <p>"I see," said Superintendent Galloway, with a sharp nod.</p> + <p>"Therefore, we may assume, in the case before us,"—Sir Henry Durwood waved a + fat white hand in the direction of the corpse as though he were delivering an + anatomical lecture before a class of medical students—"that the victim was + killed with a flat, round knife with a round edge, held sideways. Furthermore, the + position of the wound reveals that the blow was too much on the left side to pierce + the centre of the heart directly, but was a slanting blow, delivered with such force + that it has probably pierced the heart on the <i>right</i> side, causing instant + death."</p> + <p>"The weapon, then, entered the body in a lateral direction, that is, from left to + right?" asked Colwyn, who had been closely following the specialist's remarks.</p> + <p>"That is what I meant to convey," responded Sir Henry, in his most professional + manner. "The blade<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg + 57]</a></span> entered on the left side, and travelled towards the centre of the + body."</p> + <p>"From the nature of the wound would you say that the knife entered almost parallel + with the ribs, though slanting slightly downwards, in order to pierce the heart on + the right side?"</p> + <p>"That would be the general direction, though it is impossible to ascertain, + without a postmortem examination, the exact spot where the heart was pierced."</p> + <p>"But the wound slants in such a way as to prove that the blow was struck from left + to right?" persisted Colwyn.</p> + <p>"Undoubtedly," responded Sir Henry.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" + id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p> + <hr style="width: 35%;" size="6" /> + <h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + <p>During the latter part of the conversation Superintendent Galloway walked to the + open window, and looked out. He turned round swiftly, with a look of unusual + animation on his heavy features, and exclaimed:</p> + <p>"The murderer entered through the window."</p> + <p>The others went over to the window. The inn on that side had been built into a + small hill of beehive shape, which had been partly levelled to make way for the + foundations. Seen from outside, the inn, with its back to the sea and a corner of its + front entering the hillside, bore a remote resemblance to some nakedly ugly animal + with its nose burrowed into the earth. Part of the bar was actually underground, and + the windows of the rooms immediately above looked out on the hillside. The window of + Mr. Glenthorpe's room, which was above the bar parlour, was not more than four or + five feet away from the round-shouldered side of the hill. From that point the hill + fell away rapidly, and the first-story windows at the back, where the house rose from + the flat edge of the marsh, were about fifteen feet from the ground. The space + between the inn wall and the beehive curve of the hill, which was very narrow under + Mr. Glenthorpe's window, but widened as the hill fell away, was covered with a + russet-coloured clay, which contrasted vividly with the sombre grey and drab tints of + the marshes.</p> + <p>"It was an easy matter to get in this window," said Superintendent Galloway. "And + here's the proof that the murderer came in this way." He stooped and picked<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> up something from + the floor, close to the window, and held it out in the palm of his hand for the + inspection of his companions. It was a small piece of red clay, like the + russet-coloured clay outside the window.</p> + <p>"Here is another clue," said Colwyn, pointing to a fragment of black material + adhering to a nail near the bottom of the window.</p> + <p>"Ronald ripped something he was wearing while getting through the window," said + Galloway, detaching the fragment, which he and Colwyn examined closely.</p> + <p>"Have you noticed that?" said Colwyn, pointing to a pool of water which had + collected near the open window, between the edge of the carpet and the skirting + board.</p> + <p>"Yes," replied Galloway. "It was raining heavily last night."</p> + <p>With eyes sharpened by his discoveries, Galloway made a careful search of the + carpet, and found several more crumbs of red clay between the window and the bed. + Near the bed he detected some splashes of candle-grease, which he detached from the + carpet with his pocket-knife. He also picked up the stump of a burnt wooden match, + and the broken unlighted rink head of another. After showing these things to his + companions he placed them carefully in an empty match-box, which he put in his + pocket.</p> + <p>"Somebody has bumped against this gas globe pretty hard," said Colwyn. "The glass + is broken and the incandescent burner smashed."</p> + <p>He bent down to examine the white fragments of the burner which were scattered + about the carpet, and as he did so he noticed another broken wooden match, and two + more splashes of candle-grease directly beneath the gas-jet. He removed the + candle-grease carefully, and showed it to Galloway.<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span></p> + <p>"More candle-grease!" the latter said. "Well, that's not likely to prove anything + except that Ronald was careless with his light. I suppose the wind caused the candle + to gutter. I would willingly exchange the candle-grease for some finger-prints. + There's not a sign of finger-prints anywhere. Ronald must have worn gloves. Now, let + us have a look at Ronald's room. I want to see if he could get out of his own window + on to the hillside. His window is higher from the ground than this window. The hill + falls away very sharply."</p> + <p>The bedroom Ronald had occupied was small and narrow, and its meagre furniture was + in striking contrast with the comfortable appointments of the room they had just + left. It contained a single bed, a chest of drawers, a washstand, and a wardrobe. The + latter, a cumbrous article of furniture, stood between the bed and the wall, against + the side nearest to Mr. Glenthorpe's room.</p> + <p>Galloway strode across to the window, which was open, and looked out. The hillside + fell away so rapidly that the bottom of the window was quite eight feet from the + ground outside.</p> + <p>"Not much of a drop for an athletic young fellow like Ronald," said Galloway to + Colwyn, who had joined him.</p> + <p>"The window is very much smaller than the one in Mr. Glenthorpe's bedroom," said + Colwyn.</p> + <p>"But large enough for a man to get through. Look here! I can get my head and + shoulders through, and where the head and shoulders go the rest of the body will + follow. Ronald got through it last night and into the next room by the other window. + There can be no doubt that that was how the murder was committed."</p> + <p>Galloway left the window, and examined the bedroom carefully. He turned down the + bed-clothes, and scrutinised the sheets and pillows.<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p> + <p>"I thought he might have left some blood-stains on the linen, after carrying the + body downstairs," he explained. "But he hasn't."</p> + <p>"Sir Henry says the bleeding was largely internal," remarked Mr. Cromering. "That + would account for the absence of any tell-tale marks on the bed-clothes."</p> + <p>"He was too clever to wash his hands when he came back," grumbled Galloway, + turning to the washstand and examining the towels. "He's a cool customer."</p> + <p>"I notice that the candle in the candlestick is a wax one," said Colwyn.</p> + <p>"And burnt more than half-way down," commented Galloway, glancing at it.</p> + <p>"You attach no significance to the fact that the candle is a wax one?" questioned + the detective.</p> + <p>"No, do you?" replied Galloway, with a puzzled glance.</p> + <p>Colwyn did not reply to the question. He was looking attentively at the large + wardrobe by the side of the bed.</p> + <p>"That's a strange place to put a wardrobe," he said. "It would be difficult to get + out of bed without barking one's shins against it."</p> + <p>"It was probably put there to hide the falling wall-paper,—the place is + going to rack and ruin," said Galloway, pointing to the top of the wardrobe, where + the faded wall-paper, mildewed and wet with damp, was hanging in festoons. "Now, + Queensmead, lead the way outside. I've seen all I want to see in this room."</p> + <p>"Would you like to see the room where Ronald and Mr. Glenthorpe dined?" suggested + the constable. "It's on this floor, on the other side of Mr. Glenthorpe's + bedroom."</p> + <p>"We can see that later. I want to examine outside before it gets dark."</p> + <p>They left the room. The innkeeper was waiting pa<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span>tiently in the passage, standing + motionless at the head of the staircase, with his head inclining forward, like a + marsh heron fishing in a dyke. He hastened towards them.</p> + <p>"I noticed a reading-lamp by Mr. Glenthorpe's bedside, Mr. Benson," said Colwyn. + "Did he use that as well as the gas?"</p> + <p>"He rarely used the gas, sir, though it was put into the room at his request. He + found the reading-lamp suited his sight better."</p> + <p>"Did he use candles? I saw no candlestick in the room."</p> + <p>"He never used candles, sir—only the reading-lamp."</p> + <p>"When was the gas-globe smashed? Last night?"</p> + <p>"It must have been, sir. Ann says it was quite all right yesterday."</p> + <p>"I've got my own idea how that was done," said Galloway, who had been an attentive + listener to the innkeeper's replies to Colwyn's questions. "Show the way downstairs + to the back door, Mr. Benson."</p> + <p>The innkeeper preceded them down the stairs and along the passage to another one, + which terminated in a latched door, which he opened.</p> + <p>"How was this door fastened last night?" asked Galloway.</p> + <p>"By this bolt at the top," said the innkeeper, pointing to it. "There is no + key—only this catch."</p> + <p>"Is this the only back outlet from the inn?" asked Colwyn.</p> + <p>"Yes, sir."</p> + <p>At Galloway's suggestion they first went to the side of the inn, in order to + examine the ground beneath the windows. The fence enclosing the yard had fallen into + disrepair, and had many gaps in it. There were no foot<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span>prints visible in the red clay of the + natural passage-way between the inn wall and the hill, either beneath the window of + Ronald's room or Mr. Glenthorpe's window.</p> + <p>"The absence of footprints means nothing," said Galloway. "Ronald may have climbed + from one room to the other in his stocking feet, and then put on his boots to remove + the body. Even if he wore his boots he might have left no marks, if he walked + lightly."</p> + <p>"I am not so sure of that," said Colwyn. "But what do you make of this?"</p> + <p>He pointed to an impression in the red earth underneath Mr. Glenthorpe's + window—a line so faint as to be barely noticeable, running outward from the + wall for about eighteen inches, with another line about the same length running at + right angles from it. Superintendent Galloway examined these two lines closely and + then shook his head as though to intimate he could make nothing of them.</p> + <p>"What do you think they are?" said Mr. Cromering, turning to Colwyn.</p> + <p>"I think they may have been made by a box," was the reply.</p> + <p>"You are not suggesting that the murderer threw a box out of the window?" + exclaimed Superintendent Galloway, staring at the detective. "Look how straight the + line from the wall is! A box would have fallen crookedly."</p> + <p>"I do not suggest anything of the kind. If it was a box, it is more likely it was + placed outside the window."</p> + <p>"For what purpose?"</p> + <p>"To help the murderer climb into the room."</p> + <p>"He didn't need it," replied Galloway. "It's an easy matter to get through this + window from the ground. I can do it myself." He placed his hands on the sill,<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> sprang on to the + window ledge, and dropped back again. "I attach no importance to these lines. They + are so faint that they might have been made months ago. There is nothing to be seen + here, so we may as well go and look at the footprints. Show us where the marks of the + footsteps commence, Queensmead."</p> + <p>The constable led the way to the other side of the house and across the green. The + grass terminated a little distance from the inn in a clay bank bordering a wide tract + of bare and sterile land, which extended almost to the summit of the rise. Clearly + defined in the clay and the black soft earth were two sets of footprints, one going + towards the rise, and the other returning. The outgoing footsteps were deeply and + distinctly outlined from heel to toe. The right foot plainly showed the circular mark + of a rubber heel, which was missing in the other, though a sharp indentation showed + the mark of the spike to which the rubber had been fastened.</p> + <p>"The footprints lead straight to the mouth of the pit where the body was thrown," + said Queensmead.</p> + <p>"What a clue!" exclaimed Superintendent Galloway, his eyes sparkling with + excitement. "You are quite certain the inn servant can swear that these marks were + made by Ronald's boots, Queensmead?"</p> + <p>"There's no doubt on that point, sir," replied the constable. "She had the boots + in her hands this morning, just before Ronald put them on, and she distinctly noticed + that there was a rubber heel on the right boot, but not on the other."</p> + <p>"It seems a strange thing for a young man of Ronald's position to have rubber + heels affixed to his boots," remarked Mr. Cromering. "I was under the impression that + they were an economical device of the working<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" + id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> classes. But perhaps he found them useful to save his + feet from jarring."</p> + <p>"We shall find them useful to hang him," responded Galloway curtly. "Let us + proceed to the pit, gentlemen. May I ask you to keep clear of the footprints? I do + not want them obliterated before I can take plaster casts."</p> + <p>They followed the footsteps up the rise. Near the summit they disappeared in a + growth of nettles, but reappeared on the other side, skirting a number of bowl-shaped + depressions clustered in groups along the brow of the rise. These were the hut + circles—the pit dwellings of the early Britons, shallow excavations from six to + eight feet deep, all running into one another, and choked with a rank growth of + weeds. Between them and a little wood which covered the rest of the summit was an + open space, with a hole gaping nakedly in the bare earth.</p> + <p>"That's the pit where the body was thrown," said Queensmead, walking to the + brink.</p> + <p>The pit descended straight as a mining shaft until the sides disappeared in the + interior gloom. It was impossible to guess at its depth because of the tangled + creepers which lined its sides and obscured the view, but Mr. Cromering, speaking + from his extensive knowledge of Norfolk geology, said it was fully thirty feet deep. + He added that there was considerable difference of opinion among antiquaries to + account for its greater depth. Some believed the pit was simply a larger specimen of + the adjoining hut circles, running into a natural underground passage which had + previously existed. But the more generally accepted theory was that the hut circles + marked the site of a prehistoric village, and the deeper pit had been the quarry from + which the Neolithic men had obtained the flints of which they made their imple<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span>ments. These flints + were imbedded in the chalk a long way from the surface, and to obtain them the cave + men burrowed deeply into the clay, and then excavated horizontal galleries into the + chalk. Several of the red-deer antler picks which they used for the purpose had been + discovered when the pit was first explored twenty-five years ago.</p> + <p>"Mr. Glenthorpe was very much interested in the prehistoric and late Stone Age + remains which are to be found in abundance along the Norfolk coast," he added. "He + has enriched the national museums with a valuable collection of prehistoric man's + implements and utensils, which he recovered in various parts of Norfolk. For some + time past he had been carrying out explorations in this district in order to add to + the collection. It is sad to think that he met his death while thus employed, and + that his murdered body was thrown in the very pit which was, as it were, the centre + of his explorations and the object of his keenest scientific curiosity."</p> + <p>"Did you ever see clearer footprints?" exclaimed the more practical-minded + Galloway. "Look how deep they are near the edge of the pit, where the murderer braced + himself to throw the body off his back into the hole. See! there is a spot of blood + on the edge."</p> + <p>It was as he had said. The footprints were clear and distinct to the brink of the + pit, but fainter as they turned away, showing that the man who had carried the body + had stepped more lightly and easily after relieving himself of his terrible + burden.</p> + <p>"I must take plaster casts of those prints before it rains," said Galloway. "They + are far too valuable a piece of evidence to be lost. They form the final link in the + case against Ronald."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg + 67]</a></span></p> + <p>"You regard the case as conclusive, then?" said Colwyn.</p> + <p>"Of course I do. It is now a simple matter to reconstruct the crime from beginning + to end. Ronald got through Mr. Glenthorpe's window last night in the dark. As the + catch has not been forced, he either found it unlocked or opened it with a knife. + After getting into the room he walked towards the foot of the bed. He listened to + make sure that Mr. Glenthorpe was asleep, and then struck the match I picked up near + the foot of the bed, lit the candle he was carrying, put it on the table beside the + bed, and stabbed the sleeping man. Having secured the money, he unlocked the door, + carried the corpse out on his shoulder, closed the door behind him but did not lock + it, then took the body downstairs, let himself out of the back door, carried it up + here and cast it into the pit. That's how the murder was committed."</p> + <p>"I agree with you that the murderer entered through the window," said Colwyn. "But + why did he do so? It strikes me as important to clear that up. If Ronald is the + murderer, why did he take the trouble to enter the room from the outside when he + slept in the next room?"</p> + <p>"Surely you have not forgotten that the door was locked from inside? Benson says + Mr. Glenthorpe was in the habit of locking his door and sleeping with the key under + the pillow. Ronald no doubt first tried to enter the room by the door, but, finding + it locked, climbed out of his window, and got into the room through the other window. + He dared not break open the door for fear of disturbing the inmate or alarming the + house."</p> + <p>"Then how do you account for the key being found in the outside of Mr. + Glenthorpe's door this morning?"</p> + <p>"Quite easily. During the struggle or in the victim's death convulsions the + bed-clothes were disarranged, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" + id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> Ronald saw the key beneath the pillow. Or he may have + searched for it, as he knew he would need it before he could open the door and remove + the body. It was easy for him to climb through the window to commit the murder, but + he couldn't remove the body that way. After finding the key he unlocked the door, and + put the key in the outside, intending to lock the door and remove the key as he left + the room, so as to defer the discovery that Mr. Glenthorpe was missing until as long + after his own departure in the morning as possible. He may have found it a difficult + matter to stoop and lock the door and withdraw the key while he was encumbered with + the corpse, so left it in the door till he returned from the pit. When he returned he + was so exhausted with carrying the body several hundred yards, mostly uphill, that he + forgot all about the key. That is my theory to account for the key being in the + outside of the door."</p> + <p>"It's an ingenious one, at all events," commented Colwyn. "But would such a + careful deliberate murderer overlook the key when he returned?"</p> + <p>"Nothing more likely," said the confident superintendent. "It's in trifles like + this that murderers give themselves away. The notorious Deeming, who murdered several + wives, and disposed of their bodies by burying them under hearthstones and covering + them with cement, would probably never have been caught if he had not taken away with + him a canary which belonged to the last woman he murdered. It was a clue that + couldn't be missed—like the silk skein in Fair Rosamond's Bower."</p> + <p>"Here's another point: why did not Ronald, having disposed of the body, disappear + at once, instead of waiting for the morning?"</p> + <p>"Because if his room had been found empty in the morning, as well as that of Mr. + Glenthorpe's, the double<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg + 69]</a></span> disappearance would have aroused instant suspicion and search. Ronald + gauged the moment of his departure very cleverly, in my opinion. On the one hand, he + wanted to get away before the discovery of Mr. Glenthorpe's empty bedroom; and, on + the other hand, he wished to stay at the inn long enough to suggest that he had no + reason for flight, but was merely compelled to make an early departure. The trouble + and risk he took to conceal the body outside prove conclusively that he thought the + pit a sufficiently safe hiding-place to retard discovery of the crime for a + considerable time, and he probably thought that even when it was discovered that Mr. + Glenthorpe was missing his absence would not, at first, arouse suspicions that he had + met with foul play.</p> + <p>"It was not as though Mr. Glenthorpe was living at home with relatives who would + have immediately raised a hue and cry. He was a lonely old man living in an inn + amongst strangers, who were not likely to be interested in his goings and comings. + That suggests another alternative theory to account for the key in the door: Ronald + may have left it in the door to convey the impression that Mr. Glenthorpe had gone + out for an early walk. That belief would at least gain Ronald a few hours to make + good his escape from this part of the country and get away by train before any + suspicions were aroused. The fact that none of Mr. Glenthorpe's clothes were missing + was not likely to be discovered in an inn until suspicion was aroused. Ronald laid + his plans well, but how was he to know that in his path to the pit he walked over + soil as plastic and impressionable as wax?"</p> + <p>"But in spite of that you assume he knew exactly where this pit was situated?"</p> + <p>"Nothing more likely. It is well-known to archaeologists. Ronald may well have + heard of it while staying<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg + 70]</a></span> at Durrington, or he may have known of it personally through some + previous visit to this part of the world. And there is also evidence that Mr. + Glenthorpe told him of the hut circles and the pit during dinner last night."</p> + <p>"Just one more doubt, Superintendent. How do you account for the cracked gas globe + and the broken incandescent mantle?"</p> + <p>"Ronald probably knocked his head against it as he approached the bed," said + Galloway promptly.</p> + <p>"Hardly. Ronald's height, according to the description, is five feet ten inches. + That happens to be also my height, and I can pass under the gas globe without + touching it."</p> + <p>"Then it was broken when Ronald was carrying the corpse downstairs," replied + Galloway, after a moment's reflection. "He carried the corpse on his shoulders and + part of the body would be above his head."</p> + <p>"Superintendent Galloway has an answer for everything," said Colwyn with a smile, + to Mr. Cromering. "He is persuasive if not always convincing."</p> + <p>"The case seems clear enough to me," said the chief constable thoughtfully. "Come, + gentlemen, let us return to the inn. We have a number of things to do, and not much + time to do them in."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg + 71]</a></span></p> + <hr style="width: 35%;" size="6" /> + <h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + <p>The inn, seen in the grey evening of a grey day, had a stark and sinister aspect, + an atmosphere of mystery and secretiveness, an air of solitary aloofness in the + dreary marshes, standing half shrouded in the night mists which were sluggishly + crawling across the oozing flats from the sea. It was not a place where people could + be happy—this battered abode of a past age on the edge of the North Sea, with + the bitter waters of the marshes lapping its foundations, and the cold winds for ever + wailing round its gaunt white walls.</p> + <p>The portion buried in the hillside, with only the tops of the windows peering + above, suggested the hidden holes and burrowing byways of a dead and gone generation + of smugglers who had used the inn in the heyday of Norfolk's sea prosperity. It may + have been a thought of the possibilities of the inn as a hiding place which prompted + Mr. Cromering to exclaim, after gazing at it attentively for some seconds:</p> + <p>"We had better go through this place from the bottom."</p> + <p>As they approached the inn a stout short man, who was looking out from the low and + narrow doorway, retreated into the interior, and immediately afterwards the long + figure of the innkeeper emerged as though he had been awaiting the return of the + party, and had posted somebody to watch for them.</p> + <p>The innkeeper showed no surprise on receiving Mr. Cromering's instruction to show + them over the inn. Walking before them he led them along a side passage<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> opposite the bar, + opening doors as he went, and drawing aside for them to enter and look at the rooms + thus revealed.</p> + <p>It was a strange rambling old place inside, full of nooks and crannies, and + unexpected odd corners and apertures, short galleries and stone passages winding + everywhere and leading nowhere; the downstairs rooms on different levels, with stone + steps into them, and queer slits of windows pierced high up in the thick walls. On + the ground floor a central passage divided the inn into two portions. On the one side + were several rooms, some empty and destitute of furniture, others barely furnished + and empty, and a big gloomy kitchen in which a stout countrywoman, who shook and + bobbed at the sight of the visitors, was washing greens at a dirty deal table. Off + the kitchen were two small rooms, poorly furnished as servants' bedrooms, and the + windows of these looked out on the marshes at the back of the house. On the other + side of the centre passage was the bar, which was subterranean at the far end, with + the cellar adjoining tunnelled into the hillside. In the recesses of the cellar the + short stout man they had seen at the doorway was, by the light of a tallow candle, + affixing a spigot to one of the barrels which stood against the earthen wall. Behind + the bar was a small bar parlour, and behind that two more rooms, the house on that + side finishing in a low and narrow gallery running parallel with the outside + wall.</p> + <p>The staircase upstairs opened into a stone passage, running from the front of the + inn to the back. On the left-hand side of the passage, going from the head of the + stairs to the back of the house, were four rooms. The first was a small, comfortably + furnished sitting room, where Mr. Glenthorpe and his guest had dined the previous + night. The bed chamber of the murdered man ad<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" + id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span>joined this room. Next came the room in which Ronald + had slept, and then an empty lumber room. There were four bedrooms on the other side, + all unfurnished, except one at the far end of the passage, the lumber-room. The + innkeeper explained that the murdered man had been the sole occupant of that wing of + the house until the previous night, when Mr. Ronald had occupied the room next to + him. At this end of the passage another and narrower passage ran at right angles from + it along the back of the house, with several rooms opening off it on one side only. + The first of these rooms was empty; the next room contained a small iron bedstead, a + chair, and a table, and the innkeeper said that it was his bedroom. At the next door + he paused, and turning to Mr. Cromering hesitatingly remarked:</p> + <p>"This is my mother's room, sir. She is an invalid."</p> + <p>"We will not disturb your mother, we will merely glance into the room," said the + kindly chief constable.</p> + <p>"It is not that, sir. She is——" He broke off abruptly, and knocked at + the door.</p> + <p>After a few moments' pause there was the sound of somebody within turning a key in + the lock, then the door was opened by a young girl, who, at the sight of the + visitors, walked hurriedly across to a bedstead at the far end of the room, on which + something grey was moving, and stood in front of it as though she would guard the + occupant of the bed from the intruding eyes of strangers.</p> + <p>"It's all right, Peggy," said the innkeeper. "We shall not be here long. My + daughter is afraid you will disturb her grandmother," he said turning to the + gentlemen. "My mother is——" A motion of his finger towards his forehead + completed the sentence more significantly than words.</p> + <p>The figure on the bed in the corner was in the shadow,<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> but they could make it out to be that + of an old and shrivelled woman in a grey flannel nightdress, who was sitting up in + bed, swinging backward and forward, holding some object in her arms, clasped tightly + to her breast, while her small dark eyes, deepset under furrowed brows, gazed at the + visitors with the unmeaning stare of an animal.</p> + <p>But Colwyn's eyes were drawn to the girl at the bedside. She was beautiful, of a + type sufficiently rare to attract attention anywhere. Her delicate profile and dainty + grace shone in the shadow of the sordid room like an exquisite picture. He was aware + of a skin of transparent whiteness, a wistful sensitive mouth, a pair of wonderful + eyes with the green-grey colour of the sea in their depths, and a crown of red-gold + hair. She was poorly, almost shabbily, dressed, but the crude cheap garbing of a + country dressmaker was unable to mar the graceful outlines of her slim young figure. + But it was the impassivity of the face and detachment of attitude which chained + Colwyn's attention and stimulated his intellectual curiosity. The human face is + usually an index to the owner's character, but this girl's face was a mask which + revealed nothing. The features might have been marble for anything they displayed, as + she stood by the bedside regarding with grave inscrutable eyes the group of men in + the doorway. There was something pathetic in the contrast between her grace and + beauty and stillness and the uncouth gestures and meaningless stare of the old woman + in the bed behind her.</p> + <p>The old woman, moving from side to side with the unhappy restlessness which + characterises the insane, dropped over the side of the bed the object she had been + nursing in her arms, and looked at the girl with the dumb entreaty of an animal. The + girl stooped down by the side<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg + 75]</a></span> of the bed, picked up the fallen article, and restored it to the mad + woman. It was a doll.</p> + <p>Mr. Cromering, who saw the action and the article, flushed like a man who had seen + something which should be kept secret, and turned to leave the room. The others + followed, and immediately afterwards they heard the door closed after them, and the + key turned in the lock.</p> + <p>Superintendent Galloway, who had more of the inquiring turn of mind of the police + official than the chief constable, asked the innkeeper several questions about his + mother and her condition. The innkeeper said her insanity was the outcome of an + accident which had happened two years before. She was sitting dozing by the kitchen + fire when a large boiler of water overturned, scalding her terribly, and the shock + and pain had sent her mad. She had never left the bedroom since, and had gradually + become reduced to a condition of imbecility, alternated by occasional outbursts of + violence.</p> + <p>"Is she ever allowed out of the room?" asked Superintendent Galloway quickly, as + though a sudden thought had struck him.</p> + <p>"Never, sir; she never tries to get out of bed except when she's violent. She will + sit there for hours, playing with a doll, but when she has her paroxysms she runs + round and round the room, crying out as you heard her just now, and throwing the + things about. Did you notice, sir, that there was no glassware in the room? She has + tried to injure herself with glass and crockery in her violent fits."</p> + <p>"How often does she have paroxysms of violent madness?" asked the chief + constable.</p> + <p>"Not often, sir; usually about the turn of the moon, or when there is a gale at + sea."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p> + <p>"There was a gale at sea last night," said Colwyn. "Did your mother have an attack + then?"</p> + <p>"Peggy said when she came downstairs last night she thought there were signs of an + attack coming on, but when I looked in on Mother as I was going to bed, shortly + before eleven, she seemed quiet enough, so I locked her door and went to bed."</p> + <p>"Do you mean to say that you leave this poor mad woman in her bedroom all night + alone?" asked the chief constable.</p> + <p>"It's the best thing to be done, sir," replied the innkeeper, with an apologetic + air. "We tried having somebody to sleep with her, but it only made her worse, and the + doctor who saw her last year said it wasn't necessary. Peggy is with her a lot in the + daytime, and often until she goes to bed. So she's really not left alone very much, + because Ann goes into her room as soon as she gets up in the morning—about six + o'clock."</p> + <p>"And is your mother always secured in her room—is the door always locked?" + asked Superintendent Galloway.</p> + <p>"Yes, sir: the door is always locked inside or outside, and when I go to bed at + night I take the key into my room and hang it on a nail. Ann comes in and gets it in + the morning."</p> + <p>"You did that last night, as usual?"</p> + <p>"Yes, sir. Mother was quiet—just as you saw her now. She is quiet most of + the time."</p> + <p>"God help her, poor soul!" exclaimed the chief constable. "Where does this passage + lead to, Benson?" he asked, as if to change the conversation, pointing to a gloomy + gallery running off the passage in which they were standing.</p> + <p>"It leads to two rooms looking out over the end of the<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> inn, sir," replied the innkeeper. + "They are the only two rooms you haven't seen."</p> + <p>"Who occupies this room?" asked Superintendent Galloway, opening the door of the + first, and disclosing a small, plainly furnished bedroom.</p> + <p>"My daughter, sir."</p> + <p>"The next one is empty and unfurnished, like many of the others," observed the + chief constable. "This place seems too big for you, Benson. Were all these rooms + destitute of furniture when you took over the inn?"</p> + <p>"Not all, sir, but the inn being too big for me I sold the furniture for what it + would fetch. It was no use to me."</p> + <p>"Why don't you take a smaller place?" asked Superintendent Galloway, abruptly. + "You'll never do any good on this part of the coast—it's played out, and + there's no population."</p> + <p>"I'm well aware of that, sir, but it's difficult for a man like me to make a shift + once he gets into a place. There's Mother for one thing."</p> + <p>"She ought to be placed in a lunatic asylum," said the superintendent, looking + sternly at the innkeeper.</p> + <p>"It's a hard thing, sir, to put your own mother away. Besides, begging your + pardon, she's hardly bad enough for a lunatic asylum."</p> + <p>"Let us go downstairs, Galloway, if we have seen the whole of the inn," said the + chief constable, breaking into this colloquy. "Time is really getting on."</p> + <p>They went downstairs again to the small room they had been shown into when they + first entered the inn, Mr. Cromering after despatching the innkeeper for refreshments + for the party glanced once more at his watch, and remarked to Colwyn that he was + afraid he would have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg + 78]</a></span> to ask him to drive him in his car back to Durrington without + delay.</p> + <p>"Galloway will stay here for the inquest to-morrow," he added. "But I must get + back to Norwich to-night."</p> + <p>"It is not necessary to go back to Durrington, to get to Norwich," said Colwyn; + "there's a train passes through Heathfield on the branch line, at 5.40." He consulted + his own watch as he spoke. "It's now just four o'clock. Heathfield cannot be more + than six miles away across country. I can run you over there in twenty minutes. That + would give you an hour or so more here. I am speaking for myself as well as you," he + added, with a smile. "I should like to know a little more about this case."</p> + <p>"But I shall be taking you out of your way, and delaying the return of you and Sir + Henry to Durrington."</p> + <p>"I should like to return here and stay until after the inquest. Perhaps Sir Henry + would not mind returning to Durrington from Heathfield. He will be able to catch the + Durrington train at Cottenden, and get back to his hotel in time for dinner. Would + you mind, Sir Henry?"</p> + <p>"Not in the least," replied Sir Henry politely.</p> + <p>"Then I think I might stay a little longer," said the chief constable. "What's the + road like to Heathfield, Galloway? You know something about this part of the + country."</p> + <p>"Very bad," replied the superintendent uncompromisingly, who had his own reasons + for wanting to get rid of his superior officer and the detective.</p> + <p>"It will be all right in daylight, and I'll risk it coming back," said the + detective cheerfully.</p> + <p>He spoke with the resolute air of one used to making prompt decisions, and Mr. + Cromering yielded with the feeble smile of a man who was rather glad to be + released<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> of + the task of making up his own mind. The entrance of the innkeeper with refreshments + put an end to the discussion. He thrust upon the police officials present the + responsibility of breaking the licensed hours in which liquor might be drunk in war + time by serving them with sherry, old brandy, and biscuits.</p> + <p>The chief constable made himself a party to this breach of the law by helping + himself to a glass of sherry. The wine was excellent and dry, and he poured himself + out another. The result of this stimulant was directly apparent in the firm tones + with which he announced his intention of examining those inmates of the inn who could + throw any light on the murder of the previous night. He directed Superintendent + Galloway to sit beside him and take notes of the information thus elicited for the + use of the coroner the following day.</p> + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p> + <p>"I think it would be as well to begin with the story of the innkeeper," he added. + "Please pull that bell-rope, Galloway."</p> + <hr style="width: 35%;" size="6" /> + <h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + <p>The innkeeper answered the bell in person, and was ordered by the chief constable + to take a seat and tell everything he knew about the previous night's events, without + equivocation or reserve. He took a chair at the table, his bright bird's glance + wandering from one to the other of the faces opposite him as he smoothed with one + claw-like hand the thatch of iron-grey hair which hung down over his forehead almost + to his eyes.</p> + <p>"Where shall I begin?" he asked.</p> + <p>"You had better start by telling us how this young man Ronald came to your house + yesterday afternoon, and then give us an account of the subsequent events, so far as + you know them," said the chief constable.</p> + <p>"I was down near the breakwater yesterday evening, setting some eel-lines in the + canal, when he arrived," commenced the innkeeper. "When I came in, + Charles—that's the waiter—told me there was a young gentleman in the bar + parlour waiting to see me. I went into the parlour, and saw the young man sitting + near the door. He looked very tired and weary, and said he wished to stay at the inn + for the night."</p> + <p>"How was he dressed?" asked Superintendent Galloway, looking up from his + note-book.</p> + <p>"In a grey Norfolk suit, with knickerbockers, and a soft felt hat."</p> + <p>"Had you ever seen him before?"</p> + <p>"No, sir. He was a complete stranger to me. I could see he was a gentleman. I told + him I could not take<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg + 81]</a></span> him in, as the inn was only a poor rough place, with no accommodation + for gentlefolk at the best of times, let alone war-time. The young gentleman said he + was very tired and would sleep anywhere, and was not particular about food. He told + me he had lost his way on the marshes, and a fisherman had directed him to the + inn."</p> + <p>"Did he say where he had come from?" asked the chief constable.</p> + <p>"No, sir, and I didn't think to ask him. I might have done so, but Mr. Glenthorpe + walked into the parlour just then, carrying some partridges in his hand. He didn't + see the young gentleman at first—he was sitting in the corner behind the + door—but told me to have one of the partridges cooked for his dinner. They had + just been given to him, he said, by the farmer whose land he was going to excavate + next week. As he turned to go out he saw the young gentleman sitting in the corner, + and he said, in his hearty way: 'Good evening, sir; it is not often that we have any + society in these parts.' The young gentleman told him what he had told me—how + he had wandered away from Durrington and got lost, and had come to the inn in the + hopes of getting a bed for the night. 'Glad to see a civilised human being in these + parts,' said Mr. Glenthorpe. 'I hope you'll give me the pleasure of your company at + dinner. Benson, tell Ann to cook another partridge.' 'I don't know whether the + innkeeper will allow me that pleasure,' replied the young gentleman. 'He says he + cannot put me up for the night.' 'Of course he'll put you up,' said Mr. Glenthorpe. + 'Not even a Norfolk innkeeper would turn you out on to the North Sea marshes at this + time of year.' That settled the question, because I couldn't afford to offend Mr. + Glenthorpe, and besides, his providing the dinner helped me out of a difficulty. So I + went out to give orders about<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg + 82]</a></span> the dinner, leaving Mr. Glenthorpe and him sitting together + talking."</p> + <p>"Did you get him to fill in a registration form?" asked Superintendent + Galloway.</p> + <p>"I forgot to ask him, sir," replied the innkeeper.</p> + <p>"That is gross and inexcusable carelessness on your part, Benson," said Galloway + sternly. "I shall have to report it."</p> + <p>"I do not understand much about these things, sir," replied the innkeeper + apologetically. "It is so rarely that we have a visitor to the place."</p> + <p>"The authorities will hold you responsible. You are supposed to know the law, and + help to carry it out. What's the use of devising regulations for the security of the + country if they are not carried out? You innkeepers and hotel-keepers are really very + careless. Go on with your story, Benson."</p> + <p>"He and Mr. Glenthorpe had dinner together in the little upstairs sitting room + which Mr. Glenthorpe kept for his own private use. He did his writing in it, and the + flints and fossils he discovered in his excavations were stored in the cupboards. His + meals were always taken up there, and last night he ordered the dinner to be taken up + there as usual, and the table to be laid for two. Charles waited at table, but I was + up there twice—first time with some sherry, and the second time was about an + hour afterwards, when the gentlemen had finished dinner. I took up a bottle of some + old brandy that the inn used to be famous for—it's the same that you gentlemen + have been drinking. When I knocked at the door with the brandy it was Mr. Glenthorpe + who called 'Come in!' He was standing in front of the fire, with a fossil in his + hand, and he was telling the young man<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" + id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> about how he came to discover it. I put the brandy on + the table and left the room.</p> + <p>"That was the last time I saw him alive. Charles came down with the dinner things + about half-past nine, and said he was not wanted upstairs any more. Charles went to + bed shortly afterwards—he sleeps in one of the two rooms off the kitchen. I + went to my own bedroom before ten, after first telling Ann, the servant, who was + doing some ironing in the kitchen, to turn off the gas at the meter if the gentlemen + retired before she finished, but not to bother if they were still sitting up. It had + been decided that the young gentleman should occupy the bedroom next to Mr. + Glenthorpe, and Ann was a bit late with her ordinary work because it had taken her + some time to get his room ready. The room had not been occupied for some time, and + she'd had to air the bed-clothes and make the bed afresh.</p> + <p>"The next morning I was a bit late getting down—there's nothing to open the + inn for in the mornings—and Ann told me as soon as I got down that the young + gentleman had left nearly an hour before. She had taken him up an early cup of tea at + seven o'clock, and he opened the door to her knock, and took it from her. He was + fully dressed, except for his boots, which he had in his hand, and he asked her to + clean them, as he wanted to leave at once. She was walking away with the boots, when + he called her back and took them from her, saying that it didn't matter about + cleaning them, as he was in a hurry. When she gave him the boots he put a note into + her hand, and said that was to pay for his bill.</p> + <p>"It was the key in the outside of Mr. Glenthorpe's room which led to us finding + out that he was not in the room. As I told you upstairs, sir, he used to always lock + his door when he went to bed and put the key under the<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> pillow. Ann noticed the key in the + outside of the door when she went up with his breakfast tray—he never took + early morning tea but he always breakfasted in his room. That would be about eight + o'clock. She thought it strange to see the key in the door, and as she could get no + answer to her knock she tried the door, found it unlocked and the room empty. She + came downstairs and told me. I thought at first that Mr. Glenthorpe might have got up + early to go and look at his excavations, but I went up to his room and saw the signs + of a struggle and blood-stains on the bed-clothes, and I knew that something must have + happened to him. I went into the village and told Constable Queensmead. He came to + the inn, and made a search inside and outside and found the footprints leading to the + pit on the rise. One of Mr. Glenthorpe's men who had been down the pit for flints was + lowered by a rope, and brought up the body."</p> + <p>The innkeeper took a leather wallet from his pocket and produced from it a + Treasury £1 note. "This is the note the young gentleman left behind with Ann to + pay his bill," he explained, pushing it across the table to the chief constable.</p> + <p>"I would draw your attention, sir, to the fact that this Treasury note is one of + the first issue—printed in black on white paper," remarked Superintendent + Galloway to his superior officer. "Constable Queensmead has ascertained that the + £300 which Mr. Glenthorpe drew out of the bank yesterday was all in £1 + notes of the first issue. That money is missing from the dead man's effects."</p> + <p>The chief constable looked thoughtfully at the note through his glasses, and then + passed it to Colwyn, who examined it closely, and took a note of the number, and held + it up to the light to see the watermark.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" + id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p> + <p>"Did you or the servant find any weapon in Mr. Glenthorpe's room?" asked the chief + constable.</p> + <p>"No, sir."</p> + <p>"You have missed a knife though, have you not?" asked Superintendent Galloway.</p> + <p>"Yes, sir."</p> + <p>"What sort of a knife?"</p> + <p>"A table-knife."</p> + <p>"Was it one of the knives sent up to the sitting-room last night?"</p> + <p>"Yes, sir. At least Charles says so. He has charge of the cutlery."</p> + <p>"Then Charles had better tell us about it," interposed the chief constable. "You + say you went to bed before ten o'clock, Benson. Did you hear anything in the + night?"</p> + <p>"No, sir, I fell asleep almost immediately. My room is a good distance from Mr. + Glenthorpe's room."</p> + <p>"I do not think we have any more questions to ask you, Benson."</p> + <p>"Pardon the curiosity of a medical man, Mr. Cromering," remarked Sir Henry, "but + would it be possible to ask the innkeeper whether he noticed anything peculiar about + Mr. Ronald's demeanour, when he arrived at the inn, or when he saw him at dinner + subsequently?"</p> + <p>"You hear that question, Benson?" said the chief constable. "Did you notice + anything strange about Mr. Ronald's conduct when first he came to the inn or at any + time?"</p> + <p>"I cannot say I did, sir. I thought he looked very tired when he first came into + the inn, and his eyes were heavy as though with want of sleep."</p> + <p>"He seemed quite sane and rational?"</p> + <p>"Quite, sir."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg + 86]</a></span></p> + <p>"Did you notice any symptoms of mental disturbance or irritability about him at + any time?" struck in Sir Henry Durwood.</p> + <p>"No, sir. He was a little bit angry at first when I said I couldn't take him in, + but he struck me as quite cool and collected."</p> + <p>Sir Henry looked a little disappointed at this reply. He asked no more questions, + but entered a note in a small note-book which he took from his waistcoat pocket. Mr. + Cromering intimated to the innkeeper that he had finished questioning him, and would + like to examine the waiter, Charles.</p> + <p>"If you wouldn't mind pulling the bell-rope behind you, sir," hinted the + innkeeper.</p> + <p>In response to a pull at the old-fashioned bell-rope, the stout country servant, + who had been washing greens in the kitchen, entered the room.</p> + <p>"Where is Charles, Ann?" asked the innkeeper.</p> + <p>"He's in the kitchen," replied the woman nervously.</p> + <p>"Then tell him he is wanted here immediately."</p> + <p>"You run your inn in a queer sort of way, Benson," remarked Superintendent + Galloway, in his loud voice, as the woman went away on her errand. "Why couldn't + Charles have answered the bell himself, if he is in the kitchen? What does he wait + on, if not the bar parlour?"</p> + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p> + <p>"Charles is stone deaf, sir," replied the innkeeper.</p> + <hr style="width: 35%;" size="6" /> + <h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + <p>The man who entered the room was of sufficiently remarkable appearance to have + attracted attention anywhere. He was short, but so fat that he looked less than his + actual height, which was barely five feet. His ponderous head, which was covered with + short stiff black hair, like a brush, seemed to merge into his body without any neck, + and two black eyes glittered like diamond points in the white expanse of his hairless + face. As he advanced towards the table these eyes roved quickly from one to the other + of the faces on the other side of the table. He was in every way a remarkable + contrast to his employer, and a painter in search of a subject might have been + tempted to take the pair as models for a picture of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza.</p> + <p>"Take that chair and answer my questions," said Mr. Cromering, addressing the + waiter in a very loud voice. "Oh, I forgot," he added, to the innkeeper. "How do you + manage to communicate with him if he is stone deaf?"</p> + <p>"Quite easily, sir. Charles understands the lip language—he reads your lips + while you speak. It is not even necessary to raise your voice, so long as you + pronounce each word distinctly."</p> + <p>"Sit down, Charles—do you understand me?" said the chief constable + doubtfully. By way of helping the waiter to comprehend he pointed to the chair the + innkeeper had vacated.</p> + <p>The waiter crossed the room and took the chair. Like so many fat men, his + movements were quick, agile, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" + id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> noiseless, but as he came forward it was noticeable + that his right arm was deformed, and much shorter than the other.</p> + <p>The chief constable eyed the strange figure before him in some perplexity, and the + fat white-faced deaf man confronted him stolidly, with his black twinkling eyes fixed + on his face. His gaze, which was directed to the mouth and did not reach the eyes, + was so disconcerting to Mr. Cromering that he cleared his throat with several nervous + "hems" before commencing his examination:</p> + <p>"Your name is——?"</p> + <p>"Charles Lynn, sir."</p> + <p>The reply was delivered in a whispered voice, the not infrequent result of + prolonged deafness, complete isolation from the rest of humanity causing the gradual + loss of sound values in the afflicted person; but the whisper, coming from such a + mountain of flesh, conveyed the impression that the speaker's voice was + half-strangled in layers of fat, and with difficulty gasped a way to the air. Mr. + Cromering looked hard at the waiter as though suspecting him of some trick, but + Charles' eyes were fixed on the mouth of his interrogator, awaiting his next + question.</p> + <p>"I understand that you waited on the two gentlemen in the upstairs sitting-room + last night"—Mr. Cromering still spoke in such an unnecessarily loud voice that + he grew red in the face with the exertion—"the gentleman who was murdered, and + the young man Ronald, who came to the inn last night. Do you understand me?"</p> + <p>"Yes, sir. I waited on the gentlemen, sir."</p> + <p>"Very well. I want you to tell us all that took place between these gentlemen + while you were in the room. You were there all through the dinner, I suppose?"</p> + <p>"Yes, sir, but I didn't follow all of the conversation<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> because of my infirmity." He touched + his ears as he spoke. "I gathered some remarks of Mr. Glenthorpe's, because he told + me to stand opposite him and watch his lips for orders, but I didn't get much of what + the young gentleman said, because I was standing behind his chair most of the time so + as to see Mr. Glenthorpe's lips better."</p> + <p>"Well, tell us all you did gather of the conversation, and everything you + saw."</p> + <p>"I beg your pardon, sir"—the interruption came from Superintendent + Galloway—"but would it not be advisable to get from the waiter first something + of what passed between him and Ronald when Ronald came to the inn last night? The + waiter was the first to see him, Benson says."</p> + <p>"Quite right. I had forgotten. Tell us, Charles, what passed when Ronald first + came to the inn in the afternoon."</p> + <p>"It was between five and six o'clock, sir, when the young gentleman came to the + front door and asked for the landlord. I told him he was out, but would be back + shortly. The young gentleman said he was very tired, as he had walked a long distance + and lost his way in the marshes, and would I show him into a private room and send + him some refreshments. I took him into the bar parlour—this room, sir—and + brought him refreshments. He seemed very tired—hardly able to lift one leg + after the other."</p> + <p>"Did he look ill—or strange?"</p> + <p>"I didn't notice anything strange about him, sir, but he dropped into a chair as + though he was exhausted, and told me to send the landlord to him as soon as he came + in. I left him sitting there, and when Mr. Benson returned I told him, and he went in + to him. I didn't see<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg + 90]</a></span> the young gentleman again until I waited on him and Mr. Glenthorpe at + dinner in the upstairs sitting-room."</p> + <p>"Very good. Tell us what happened there."</p> + <p>"I laid the table, and took up the dinner at half-past seven. Those were Mr. + Glenthorpe's orders. When I went up the first time the table was covered with flints + and fossils, which Mr. Glenthorpe was showing the young gentleman, and I helped Mr. + Glenthorpe put these back into the cupboards, and then I laid the table. When I took + up the dinner the gentlemen sat down to it, and Mr. Glenthorpe rang for Mr. Benson, + and told him to bring up some sherry. When the sherry came up Mr. Glenthorpe told the + young gentleman that it was a special wine sent down by his London wine merchants, + and he asked Mr. Ronald what he thought of it. Mr. Ronald said he thought it was an + excellent dry wine. The gentlemen didn't talk much during dinner, though Mr. + Glenthorpe was a little upset about the partridges. He said they had been cooked too + dry. He asked the young gentleman what he thought of them, but I don't know what he + replied, for I was not watching his lips.</p> + <p>"Mr. Glenthorpe quite recovered himself by the time coffee was served, and was + talking a lot about his researches in the neighbourhood. It was very learned talk, + but it seemed to interest Mr. Ronald, for he asked a number of questions. Mr. + Glenthorpe seemed very pleased with his interest, and told him about a valuable + discovery made in a field near what he called the hut circles. He said he had bought + the field off the farmer for £300, and was going to commence his excavations + immediately. As the farmer refused to take a cheque for the land he had been over to + the bank at Heathfield for the money, and had brought it back with him so as to pay + it over in the morning and take possession of the<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> field. Mr. Glenthorpe complained that + the bank had made him take all the money in Treasury notes, and he took them out of + his pocket and showed them to the young gentleman, saying how bulky they were, and + pointing out that they were all of the first issue."</p> + <p>"And what did Ronald say to that?"</p> + <p>If the chief constable's question covered a trap, the waiter seemed unconscious of + it.</p> + <p>"I wasn't looking at him, sir, and did not hear his reply. After putting the money + back in his pocket, Mr. Glenthorpe told me to go downstairs and tell Mr. Benson to + bring up some of the old brandy. Mr. Benson came back with me, and Mr. Glenthorpe + took the bottle from him and filled the glasses himself, telling the young gentleman + that the brandy was the best in England, a relic of the old smuggling days, but far + too good for scoundrels who had never paid the King's revenue one half-penny. Then + when Mr. Benson had left the room he began to talk about the field again, and how + anxious he was to start the excavations. That was about all I heard, sir, for shortly + afterwards Mr. Glenthorpe told me to clear away the things, which took me several + trips downstairs, because, not having the full use of my right hand, I have to use a + small tray. It was not till this morning, when I was cleaning the cutlery, that I + noticed that one of the knives I had taken upstairs the night before was missing. I + think that is all, sir."</p> + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p> + <p>The silence which followed, broken only by the rapid travelling of Superintendent + Galloway's pen across the paper, revealed how intently the fat man's auditors had + followed his whispered recital of the events before the murder. It was Superintendent + Galloway who, putting down his fountain pen, asked the waiter to describe the knife + he had missed.</p> + <p>"It was a small, white-handled knife, sir—not one of the dinner knives, but + one of the smaller ones."</p> + <p>"Are you sure it was one of the knives you took upstairs last night?"</p> + <p>"Quite sure, sir. We are very short of good cutlery, and I picked out this knife + to put by the young gentleman's plate because it was a very good one. It and the + carving-knife are the only two knives we have in that particular white-handled + pattern."</p> + <p>"Was this knife sharp?"</p> + <p>"Very sharp, with a rather thin blade. I keep all my cutlery in good order, + sir."</p> + <p>"You seem to have heard a lot that passed last night in spite of your deafness," + said Superintendent Galloway, in the blustering manner he had found very useful in + browbeating rural witnesses in the police courts. "Is it customary for waiters to + listen to everything that is said when they are waiting at table?"</p> + <p>"I did not hear everything, sir," rejoined the waiter, and his soft whisper was in + striking contrast to the superintendent's hectoring tones. "I explained to the other + gentleman that I heard very little the young gentleman said, because I wasn't + watching his lips. It was principally Mr. Glenthorpe's part of the conversation I + have related. I followed almost everything he said because I was watching his lips + closely the whole of the time."</p> + <p>"Why?" snapped Superintendent Galloway.</p> + <p>"It was Mr. Glenthorpe's strict instructions that I was to watch his lips closely + every time I waited on him, because of my infirmity. He disliked very much being + waited on by a deaf waiter when first he came to the inn. He said he didn't want to + have to bellow out when he wanted anything. But when he found that I could<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> understand lip + language, and could follow what he was saying by watching his lips, he allowed me to + wait on him, but he gave me strict instructions never to take my eyes off him when I + was waiting on him, because he disliked having to repeat an order."</p> + <p>At the request of Sir Henry, Superintendent Galloway asked the waiter if he had + noticed anything peculiar in the actions of the murdered man's guest during the + dinner. The waiter replied that he had not noticed the young gentleman particularly. + So far as his observation went the young gentleman had acted just like an ordinary + young gentleman, and he had noticed nothing strange or eccentric about him.</p> + <p>Mr. Cromering decided to occupy the remaining time at his disposal by questioning + Ann. The stout servant was brought from the kitchen in a state of trepidation, and, + after curtsying awkwardly to the assembled gentlemen, flopped heavily into a chair, + covered her face with her apron, and burst into sobs. Her story—which was + extracted from her with much difficulty—bore out the innkeeper's account of her + early morning interview with Ronald. She said the poor young gentleman had opened the + door when she knocked with his tea. He was fully dressed, with his boots in his hand, + and he said he wouldn't wait for any breakfast, though she had offered to cook him + some fresh fish the master had caught the day before. He asked her to clean his + boots, but as she was carrying them away he called her back and said he would wear + them as they were. They were all covered with mud—a regular mask of mud. She + wanted to rub the mud off, but he said that didn't matter: he was in a hurry to get + away. While she had them in her hands she turned them up and looked at the bottoms, + intending to put them to the kitchen fire to dry them if<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> the soles were wet, and it was then + she noticed that there was a circular rubber heel on one which was missing on the + other—only the iron peg being left. She took particular notice of the peg, + because she intended to hammer it down in the kitchen, thinking it must be very + uncomfortable to walk on, but the young gentleman didn't give her the chance—he + just took the boots from her and walked into his room, shutting the door behind + him.</p> + <p>Thus far Ann proceeded, between convulsive sobs and jelly-like tremors of her fat + frame. By dint of further questioning, it was elicited from her that during this + colloquy at the bedroom door the young gentleman had put a pound note into her hand, + and told her to give it to her master in payment of his bill. "It won't be so much as + that, sir," she had said. "What about the change?"</p> + <p>"Oh, damn the change!" the young gentleman had said, very impatient-like, and then + he had said, "Here's something for yourself," and put five shillings into her + hand.</p> + <p>"Did the young gentleman seem at all excited during the time you saw him?" asked + the chief constable, anticipating the inevitable question from Sir Henry.</p> + <p>"I don't know what you mean by excited, sir. He seemed rarely impatient to be + gone, though anybody might be excited at having to walk across them nasty marshes in + the morning mist without a bite to stay the stomach. I only hope he didn't catch a + chill, the poor young man."</p> + <p>Further questions on this point only brought forth another shower of tears, and a + sobbing asseveration that she hadn't taken particular notice of the young gentleman, + who was a kind, liberal-hearted gentleman, no matter what some folk might think. It + was evident that the tip of five shillings had won her heart.</p> + <p>The chief constable waited for the storm to subside<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> before he was able to extract the + information that Ann hadn't seen the young gentleman leave the house. He had gone + when she took up Mr. Glenthorpe's breakfast nearly an hour later, and made the + discovery that the key of Mr. Glenthorpe's room was in the outside of the door, and + his room empty. The young gentleman could easily have left the inn without being + seen, for she and Charles were in the kitchen, and nobody else was downstairs at the + time.</p> + <p>It was in response to Colwyn's whispered suggestion that the chief constable asked + Ann if she had turned off the gas at the meter the previous night. Yes, she had, she + said. She heard the gentlemen leave the sitting-room upstairs and say good-night to + each other as they went to their bedrooms, and she turned off the gas at the meter + underneath the stair five minutes afterwards, when she had finished her ironing, and + went to bed herself. That would be about half-past ten.</p> + <p>Mr. Cromering, who did not understand the purport of the question, was satisfied + with the answer, and allowed the servant to retire. But Colwyn, as he went out to the + front to get the motor ready for the journey to Heathfield, was of a different + opinion.</p> + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p> + <p>"Ann may have turned off the gas as she said," he thought, "but it was turned on + again during the night. Did Ann know this, and keep it back, or was it turned on and + off again without her knowledge?"</p> + <hr style="width: 35%;" size="6" /> + <h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> + <p>"Everything fits in beautifully," said Superintendent Galloway confidently. "I + never knew a clearer case. All that remains for me to do is to lay my hands on this + chap Ronald, and an intelligent jury will see to the rest."</p> + <p>The police official and the detective had dined together in the small bar parlour + on Colwyn's return from driving Mr. Cromering and Sir Henry Durwood to Heathfield + Station. The superintendent had done more than justice to the meal, and a subsequent + glass of the smugglers' brandy had so mellowed the milk of human kindness in his + composition that he felt inclined for a little friendly conversation with his + companion.</p> + <p>"You are very confident," said Colwyn.</p> + <p>"Of course I am confident. I have reason to be so. Everything I have seen to-day + supports my original theory about this crime."</p> + <p>"And what is your theory as to the manner in which this crime was committed? I + have gathered a general idea of the line you are taking by listening to your + conversation this afternoon, but I should like you to state your theory in precise + terms. It is an interesting case, with some peculiar points about it which a frank + discussion might help to elucidate."</p> + <p>Superintendent Galloway looked suspiciously at Colwyn out of his small hard grey + eyes. His official mind scented an attempt to trap him, and his Norfolk prudence + prompted him to get what he could from the detective but to give nothing away in + return.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p> + <p>"I see you're suspicious of me, Galloway," continued Colwyn with a smile. "You've + heard of city detectives and their ways, and you're thinking to yourself that a + Norfolk man is more than a match for any of them."</p> + <p>This sally was so akin to what was passing in the superintendent's mind that a + grim smile momentarily relaxed his rugged features.</p> + <p>"My thoughts are my own, I suppose," he said.</p> + <p>"Not when you've just given them away," replied Colwyn, in a bantering tone. "My + dear Galloway, your ingenuous countenance is a mirror to your mind, in which he who + runs may read. But you are quite wrong in suspecting me. I have no ulterior motive. + My only interest in this crime—or in any crime—is to solve it. Anybody + can have the credit, as far as I am concerned. Newspaper notoriety is nothing to + me."</p> + <p>"You've managed to get a good deal of it without looking for it, then," retorted + the superintendent cannily. "It was only the other day I was reading a long article + in one of the London newspapers about you, praising you for tracking the criminals in + the Treasury Bonds case. The police were not mentioned."</p> + <p>"Fame—or notoriety—sometimes comes to those who seek it least," + replied the detective genially. "I assure you that article came unasked. I'm a + stranger to the political art of keeping sweet with the journalists—it was a + statesman, you know, who summed up gratitude as a lively sense of favours to come. + Now, in this case, let us play fair, actuated by the one desire to see that justice + is done. This case does not strike me as quite such a simple affair as it seems to + you. You approach it with a preconceived theory to which you are determined to + adhere. Your theory is plausible and convincing—to some extent—but that + is all the more<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg + 98]</a></span> reason why you should examine and test every link in the chain. You + cannot solve difficult points by ignoring them and, to my mind, there are some + difficult and perplexing features about this case which do not altogether fit in with + your theory."</p> + <p>"If my mind is an open book to you perhaps you'll tell me what my theory is," + responded Superintendent Galloway, sourly.</p> + <p>"Yes; that's a fair challenge." The detective pushed back his chair, and stood + with his back against the mantelpiece, with a cigar in his mouth. "Your theory in + this case is that chance and opportunity have made the crime and the criminal. Chance + brings this young man Ronald to this lonely Norfolk inn, and sees to it that he is + allowed to remain when the landlord wants to turn him away. Chance throws him into + the society of a man of culture and education, who is only too glad of the + opportunity of relieving the tedium of his surroundings in this rough uncultivated + place by passing a few hours in the companionship of a man of his own rank of life. + Chance contrives that this gentleman shall have in his possession a large sum of + money which he shows to Ronald, who is greatly in need of money. Opportunity suggests + the murder, provides the weapon, and gives Ronald the next room to his intended + victim in a wing of the inn occupied by nobody else.</p> + <p>"Your theory as to how the murder was actually committed strikes me as possible + enough—up to a certain point. You think that Ronald, after waiting until + everybody in the inn is likely to be asleep, steals out of his own room to the room + of his victim. He finds the door locked. Chance, however, has thoughtfully provided + him with a window opening on to a hillside, which enables him to climb out of his own + window and into<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg + 99]</a></span> the window of the next room. He gets in, murders Mr. Glenthorpe, + secures his money, and, finding the key of his bedroom under the pillow, carries the + body of his victim downstairs, and outside, casting it into a deep hole some distance + from the house, in the hope of preventing or retarding discovery of the crime. + Through an oversight he forgets the key in the door, which he had placed in the + outside before carrying off the body, intending when he returned to lock the door and + carry the key away with him.</p> + <p>"Next morning you have the highly suspicious circumstance of the young man's + hurried departure, his refusal to have his boots cleaned, the incident of the + £1 note, and the unshakable fact that the footprints leading to and from the + pit where the body was discovered had been made by his boots.</p> + <p>"As a further contributory link in the chain of evidence against Ronald, you + intend to use the fact that he was turned out of the Grand Hotel, Durrington, the + previous day because he couldn't pay his hotel bill, because this fact, combined with + the fact that Mr. Glenthorpe showed him the money he had drawn from the bank at + Heathfield, supplies a strong motive for the crime. In this connection you intend to + try to establish that the Treasury note which Ronald left to pay his inn bill was one + of those in Mr. Glenthorpe's possession, because it happens to be one of the First + Treasury issue, printed in black and white, and all Mr. Glenthorpe's notes were of + that issue, according to the murdered man's own statement. That, I take it, is the + police theory of this case."</p> + <p>"It is," said Superintendent Galloway. "You've put it a bit more fancifully than I + should, but it comes to the same thing. But what do you make out of the inci<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span>dent at the Grand + Hotel, Durrington, yesterday morning? You were there, and saw it all. Does it seem + strange to you that Ronald should have come straight to this inn and committed a + murder after making that scene at the hotel? Do you think it suggests that Ronald + has, well—impulses of violence, let us say?" Superintendent Galloway poured + himself out another glass of old brandy and sipped it deliberately, watching the + detective cautiously between the sips.</p> + <p>Colwyn was silent for a moment. He was quick to comprehend the double-barrelled + motive which underlay the superintendent's question, and he had no intention of + letting the police officer pump him for his own ends.</p> + <p>"Sir Henry Durwood would be better able to answer that question than I," he + said.</p> + <p>"I asked him when we were driving over here this afternoon, but he shut up like an + oyster—you know what these professional men are, with their stiff-and-starched + ideas of etiquette," grumbled the superintendent.</p> + <p>A flicker of amusement showed in Colwyn's eyes. Really the superintendent was + easily drawn, for an East Anglian countryman. "After all, it is only Sir Henry + Durwood's opinion that Ronald intended violence at the <i>Grand</i>," he said. "Sir + Henry did not give him the opportunity to carry out his intention—if he had + such an intention."</p> + <p>"Exactly my opinion," exclaimed Superintendent Galloway, eagerly rising to the + fly. "I have ascertained that Ronald's behaviour during the time he was staying at + the hotel was that of an ordinary sane Englishman. The proprietor says he was quite a + gentleman, with nothing eccentric or peculiar about him, and the servants say the + same. They are the best judges, after all. And nobody noticed anything peculiar about + him at the break<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg + 101]</a></span>fast table except yourself and Sir Henry—and what happened? + Nothing, except that he was a bit excited—and no wonder, after the young man + had just been ordered to leave the hotel. Then Sir Henry grabbed hold of him and he + fainted—or pretended to faint; it may have been all part of his game. Sir Henry + may have thought he intended to do something or other, but no British judge would + admit that as evidence for the defence. This chap Ronald is as sane as you or me, and + a deep, cunning cold-blooded scoundrel to boot. If the defence try to put up a plea + of insanity they'll find themselves in the wrong box. There's not a jury in the world + that wouldn't hang him on the evidence against him."</p> + <p>This time Colwyn could not forbear smiling at the guileless way in which + Superintendent Galloway had revealed the thoughts which had been passing through his + mind. But his amusement was momentary, and it was in a grave, earnest tone that he + replied:</p> + <p>"The hotel incident is a puzzling one, but I agree with you that it doesn't enter + into the police case against Ronald. It is your duty to deal with the facts of the + case, and if you think that Ronald committed this murder——"</p> + <p>"If I think that Ronald committed this murder!" Superintendent Galloway's + interruption was both amazed and indignant. "I'm as certain he committed the murder + as if I saw him do it with my own eyes. Did you, or anybody else, ever see a clearer + case?"</p> + <p>"It is because the circumstantial evidence against him is so strong that I speak + as I do," continued Colwyn, in the same earnest tones. "Innocent men have been hanged + in England before now on circumstantial evidence. It is for that very reason that we + should guard<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg + 102]</a></span> ourselves against the tendency to accept the circumstantial evidence + against him as proof of his guilt, instead of examining all the facts with an open + mind. We are the investigators of the circumstances: it is not for us to prejudge. + That is the worst of circumstantial evidence: it tends to prejudgment, and sometimes + to the ignoring of circumstances and facts which might tell in favour of the suspect, + if they were examined with a more impartial eye. It is for these reasons that I am + always careful to suspend judgment in cases of circumstantial evidence, and examine + carefully even the smallest trifles which might tell in favour of the man to whom + circumstantial evidence points.</p> + <p>"Have you discovered anything, since you have been at the inn, which shakes the + theory that Ronald is the murderer?"</p> + <p>"I have come to the conclusion that the case is much more complex and puzzling + than was at first supposed."</p> + <p>"I should like to know what makes you think that," returned Superintendent + Galloway. "Up to the present I have seen nothing to shake my conviction that Ronald + is the guilty man. What have you discovered that makes you think otherwise?"</p> + <p>"I do not go as far as that—yet. But I have come across certain things + which, to my mind, need elucidation before it is possible to pronounce definitely on + Ronald's guilt or innocence. To take them consecutively, let me repeat that I cannot + reconcile Ronald's excitable conduct at the Durrington hotel with his supposed + actions at the inn. In the former case he behaved like a man who, whether insane or + merely excited, had not the slightest fear of the consequences. At this inn he acted + like a crafty cautious scoundrel who had weighed the consequences of his acts + beforehand, and took every possible<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" + id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> precaution to save his own skin. You see nothing + inconsistent in this——"</p> + <p>"I do not," interjected the superintendent firmly.</p> + <p>"Quite so. Then, the next point that perplexes me is why Ronald took the trouble + to carry the body of his victim to the pit and throw it in."</p> + <p>"For the motive of concealment, and to retard discovery. But for the footprints it + would probably have given him several days—perhaps weeks—in which to make + good his escape."</p> + <p>"Did he not run a bigger risk of discovery by carrying the body downstairs in an + occupied house, and across several hundred yards of open land close to the + village?"</p> + <p>"Not in a remote spot like this. They keep early hours in this part of the + country. I guarantee if you walked through the village now you wouldn't see a soul + stirring."</p> + <p>"Ronald was not likely to know that. Next, how did Ronald, a stranger to the + place, know the locality of this pit so accurately as to be able to walk straight to + it?"</p> + <p>"Easily. He might have approached the inn from that side, and passed it on his + way. And nothing is more likely than Mr. Glenthorpe would tell him about the pit in + the course of his conversation about the excavations. There is also the possibility + that Ronald knew of the existence of the pit from a previous visit to this part of + the country."</p> + <p>"My next point is that Ronald was put to sleep in what he imagined was an upstairs + bedroom. How did he discover that his bedroom, and the bedroom of Mr. Glenthorpe's + adjoining, opened on to a hillside which enabled him to get out of one bedroom and + into the other?"</p> + <p>"Again, Mr. Glenthorpe probably told him—he seems to have been a garrulous + old chap, according to all ac<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" + id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span>counts. Or Ronald may have looked out of his window + when he was retiring, and seen it for himself. I always look out of a bedroom window, + and particularly if it is a strange bedroom, before getting into bed."</p> + <p>"These are matters of opinion, and, though your explanations are possible ones, I + do not agree with you. We are looking at this case from entirely different points of + view. You believe that Ronald committed the murder, and you are allowing that belief + to colour everything connected with the case. I am looking at this murder as a + mystery which has not yet been solved, and, without excluding the possibility that + Ronald is the murderer, I am not going, because of the circumstantial evidence + against him, to accept his guilt as a foregone conclusion until I have carefully + examined and tested all the facts for and against that theory.</p> + <p>"The one outstanding probability is that Mr. Glenthorpe was murdered for his + money. Now, excluding for the time being the circumstantial evidence against + Ronald—though without losing sight of it—the next point that arises is + was he murdered by somebody in the inn or by somebody from outside—say, for + example, one of the villagers employed on his excavation works. The waiter's story of + the missing knife suggests the former theory, but I do not regard that evidence as + incontrovertible. The knife might have been stolen from the kitchen by a man who had + been drinking at the bar; indeed, until we have recovered the weapon it is not even + established that this was the knife with which the murder was committed. It might + have been some other knife. We must not take the waiter's story for granted until we + have recovered the knife, and not necessarily then. But that story, as it stands, + inclines to support the theory that the murder was committed by somebody<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> in the inn. On + the other hand, the theory of an outside murderer lends itself to a very plausible + reconstruction of the crime. Suppose, for example, the murder had been committed by + one of Mr. Glenthorpe's workmen, actuated by the dual motives of revenge and robbery, + or by either motive. Apparently the whole village knew of Mr. Glenthorpe's intention + to draw this money which was in his possession when he was murdered—he seems to + have been a man who talked very freely of his private affairs—and the amount, + £300, would be a fortune to an agricultural labourer or a fisherman. Such a man + would know all about the bedroom windows on that side of the inn opening on to the + hillside, and would naturally choose that means of entry to commit the crime. And, if + he were a labourer in Mr. Glenthorpe's employ, the thought of concealing the body by + casting it into the pit would probably occur to him."</p> + <p>"I do not think there is much in that theory," said Superintendent Galloway + thoughtfully. "Still, it is worth putting to the test. I'll inquire in the morning if + any of the villagers are suspicious characters, or whether any of Glenthorpe's men + had a grudge against him."</p> + <p>"Now let us leave theories and speculations and come to facts. Our investigations + of the murdered man's room this afternoon gave us several clues, not the least + important of which is that we are enabled to fix the actual time of the murder with + some degree of accuracy. It is always useful, in a case of murder, to be able to + establish the approximate time at which it was committed. In this case, the murder + was certainly committed between the hours of 11 p.m. and 11.30 p.m., and, in all + probability, not much before half-past eleven."<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p> + <p>"How do you fix it so accurately as that?" asked the police officer, looking + keenly at the detective.</p> + <p>"According to Ann, the gentlemen went to their rooms about half-past ten, and she + turned off the gas downstairs shortly afterwards, and went to bed herself. When we + examined the room this afternoon, we found patches of red mud of the same colour and + consistency of the soil outside the window leading from the window to the bedside, + and a pool—a small isolated pool—of water near the open window. There + were, as you recollect, no footprints outside the window. On the other hand, the + footprints from the inn to the pit are clear and distinct. Rain commenced to fall + last night shortly before eleven, but it did not fall heavily until eleven o'clock. + From then till half-past eleven it was a regular downpour, when it ceased, and it has + not rained since. Now, the patches of red mud in the bedroom, and the obliteration of + footprints outside the window, prove that the murderer entered the room during the + storm, but the footprints leading to the pit prove that the body was not removed from + the room until the rain had completely ceased, otherwise they would have been + obliterated also, or partly obliterated. These facts make it clear that the murder + was committed between eleven and half-past, but the pool of water near the window + enables us to fix the time more accurately still, and say that he entered the room + during the time the rain was at its heaviest—that is, between ten minutes past + and half-past eleven."</p> + <p>"I'm hanged if I see how you fix it so definitely," said the superintendent, who + had been following the other's deductions with interest. "The pool of water may have + collected at any time, once the window was open."</p> + <p>"My dear Galloway, you are working on the rule-of-thumb deduction that the rain + blew in the open win<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg + 107]</a></span>dow and formed the pool. As a matter of fact, it did nothing of the + kind. The wind was blowing the other way, and <i>away</i> from that side of the + house. Furthermore, the hill on that side of the inn acts as a natural barrier + against rain and weather."</p> + <p>"Then how the deuce do you account for the water in the room?"</p> + <p>"Surely you have not forgotten the piece of black material we found sticking on + the nail outside the window?"</p> + <p>"I have not forgotten it, but I do not see how you connect it with the pool of + water."</p> + <p>"Because it is a piece of umbrella silk. The murderer was carrying an + umbrella—and an open umbrella—have you the piece of silk? If so, let us + look at it."</p> + <p>The superintendent produced the square inch of silk from his waistcoat pocket, and + examined it closely: "Of course it's umbrella silk," he exclaimed, slapping his leg. + "Funny I didn't recognise it at the time."</p> + <p>"Perhaps I wouldn't have recognised it myself, but for the fact that a piece of + umbrella silk formed an important clue in a recent case I was engaged upon," replied + the detective. "Experience counts for a lot—sometimes. See, this piece of silk + is hemmed on the edge—pretty conclusive proof that the murderer was carrying + the umbrella open, to shield him from the rain, and that it caught on the nail + outside the window, tearing off the edge. He closed it as he got inside the window, + and placed it near the window-sill, and the rain dripped off it and formed the pool + of water. The size of the pool, and the fact that the murderer carried an open + umbrella to shield him, prove pretty conclusively that he made his entrance into the + room during the time the rain<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" + id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> was falling heaviest—which was between 11.10 + p.m. and 11.30.</p> + <p>"We now come to what is the most important discovery of all—the pieces of + candle-grease we found in the murdered man's bedroom. They help to establish two + curious facts, the least important of which is that somebody tried to light the gas + in Mr. Glenthorpe's room last night, and, failing to do so, went downstairs and + turned on the gas at the meter."</p> + <p>"What if they did?" grunted Superintendent Galloway, pouring out another glass of + brandy. He was secretly annoyed at having overlooked the clue of the umbrella silk, + and was human enough to be angry with the detective for opening his eyes to the fact. + "I don't see how you're going to prove it, and, even if you did, it doesn't matter a + dump one way or the other."</p> + <p>"We'll let that point go," rejoined Colwyn curtly. "Your attitude in shutting your + eyes to facts hardly encourages me to proceed, but I'll try. Would you mind showing + me those bits of candle-grease you picked up in the bedroom?"</p> + <p>Superintendent Galloway produced a metal match-box from his pocket, emptied some + pieces of candle-grease, a burnt wooden match and a broken matchhead from it, and sat + back eyeing the detective with a supercilious smile. Colwyn, after examining them + closely, brought from his own pocket an envelope, and shook several more pieces of + candle-grease on the table.</p> + <p>"Look at these pieces of candle-grease side by side," he said. "Yours were picked + up alongside the bed; I found mine underneath the gas burner."</p> + <p>Superintendent Galloway glanced at the pieces of candle-grease with the same + supercilious smile. "I see<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg + 109]</a></span> them," he said. "They are pieces of candle-grease. What of them?"</p> + <p>"Do you not see that they are different kinds of candle-grease? The pieces you + picked up alongside the bed are tallow; mine, picked up from underneath the + gas-globe, are wax."</p> + <p>The Superintendent had not noticed the difference in the candle-grease, but he + thought it beneath his dignity to examine them again. "The murderer may have had two + candles," he said oracularly. "Anyway, what does it matter? They're both + candle-grease."</p> + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span></p> + <p>Colwyn swept his fragments back into his pocket with a quick impatient gesture. + "Both candle-grease, as you say," he returned sharply. "We do not seem to be making + much progress in our investigations, so let us discontinue them. Good-night."</p> + <hr style="width: 35%;" size="6" /> + <h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> + <p>Colwyn went to bed, but not to sleep. Hour after hour he lay awake, staring into + the darkness, endeavouring to put together the facts he had discovered during the + afternoon's investigations at the inn. But they resembled those irritating odd-shaped + pieces of a puzzle which refuse to fit into the remainder no matter which way they + are turned. Try as he would, he could not fit his clues into harmony with the police + theory of the murder.</p> + <p>On the other hand, he could not, nor did he attempt, to shut his eyes to the + strong case against Ronald, for he fully realised that there was much to be explained + in the young man's actions before any alternative theory to that held by the police + could be sustained. But so far he did not see his way to an alternative theory. He + sought vainly for a foundation on which to build his clues and discoveries; for some + overlooked trifle which would help him to read aright the true order and significance + of the jumbled assortment of events in this strange case.</p> + <p>In the first place, was Ronald's explanation, about losing his way and wandering + to the inn by chance, the true one? The police accepted it without question, but was + it likely that a man who was in the habit of taking long walks about the coast would + lose his way easily? As against that doubt, there were the statements of the + innkeeper and the deaf waiter that they had never seen Ronald before. If Ronald were + not guilty, why had he departed so hurriedly from the inn that morning? And<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> if he were not + the murderer what was the explanation of the damning evidence of the footprints + leading to the pit in which the body of the murdered man had been flung? If the + discovery of the two kinds of candle-grease in Mr. Glenthorpe's bedroom indicated + that two persons were in the room on the night of the murder, who were those two + persons, and what did they both go there for?</p> + <p>He reflected that his only tangible reason, so far, for not accepting the police + theory was based on the belief that two people had been in the murdered man's room, + and that belief rested on the discovery of a spot of candle-grease which in itself + was merely presumptive, but not conclusive evidence. It was necessary to establish + beyond doubt the supposition that two people had been in the room before he could + presume to draw inferences from it. And, if he succeeded in establishing that + supposition, might not Ronald have been one of the two persons, and the actual + murderer? What was the significance of the broken incandescent burner, the turned-on + gas, and the faint mark under the window?</p> + <p>These questions revolved in Colwyn's head in a circle, always bringing him back to + his starting point that the solution of the case did not lie on the surface, and that + the police theory could not be made to fit in with his own discoveries. The latter + were in themselves internal evidence that the whole truth had not yet been brought to + light.</p> + <p>Gradually the line of the circle grew nebulous, and Colwyn was fast falling asleep + through sheer weariness, when a slight sharp sound, like that made by turning a key + in a lock, brought him back to wide-eyed wakefulness. He sat up in bed, listening + with strained ears, feeling for the box of matches at his bedside. He found<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> them, and + endeavoured to strike a light. But the matches were war matches, and one after + another broke off in his hand against the side of the box. He tried holding the next + close to the head, but the head flew off. With a muttered malediction on British + manufacturers, Colwyn struck several more in rapid succession before he succeeded in + lighting the candle at his bedside. He got quietly out of bed, and, leaving the + candle on the table, opened his door noiselessly and looked out into the passage.</p> + <p>He had been put to sleep in a small bedroom in the deserted upstairs wing where + the murder had been committed. His room was opposite the lumber room, which was three + doors away from the room in which the body of the dead man lay. When the question of + accommodation for Superintendent Galloway and himself had been discussed, the former + had chosen to have a bed made up in the bar parlour downstairs as more comfortable + and snug than any of the bedrooms upstairs, but Colwyn had consented to sleep in the + deserted wing. The innkeeper, who had lighted him upstairs, had apologised for the + humble room and scanty furniture, but Colwyn had laughingly accepted the shortcomings + of the room as a point of no importance, and had stood at his door for some moments + watching a queer effect in shadows caused by the innkeeper's candle throwing gigantic + wavering outlines of his gaunt retreating figure on the bare stone wall as he went + down the side passage to his own bedroom.</p> + <p>Colwyn, looking out into the passage, could hear or see nothing to account for the + sound that had startled him into wakefulness. The candle by his bedside gave a feeble + glimmer which did not reach to the door, and the passage was as dark and silent as + the interior of a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg + 113]</a></span> vault. The stillness and blackness seemed to float into the bedroom + like a cloud. But he was certain he had not been mistaken. A door had been unlocked + somewhere in the darkness, and it had been unlocked by human hands. Who had come to + that deserted wing of the inn in the small hours, and on what business? He decided to + explore the passage and find out.</p> + <p>He left the door of his room partly open while he donned a few articles of + clothing, and pulled a pair of slippers on his feet. He glanced at his watch, and + noted with surprise that it wanted but a few minutes to three o'clock. He + extinguished his candle and, taking his electric torch, crept silently into the + passage.</p> + <p>He recalled the arrangements of the rooms as he had observed them the previous + afternoon. There were three more bedrooms adjoining his, all empty. On the other side + of the passage was the lumber room opposite, next came the room in which Ronald + slept, then the dead man's room, and finally the sitting-room he had occupied. The + door of the sitting-room opened not very far from the head of the stairs.</p> + <p>Colwyn first examined the bedrooms on his side of the passage, stepping as + noiselessly as a cat, opening and shutting each door without a sound, and + scrutinising the interiors by the light of his torch. They were empty and deserted, + as he had seen them the previous afternoon. On reaching the end of the passage he + glanced over the head of the staircase, but there was no light glimmering in the + square well of darkness and no sound in the lower part of the house to suggest that + anybody was stirring downstairs. He turned away, and made his way back along the + passage, trying the doors on the other side with equal precaution as he went. The + first three doors—the sitting-room, the murdered man's bedroom,<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> and Ronald's + bedroom—were locked, as he had seen them locked the previous afternoon by + Superintendent Galloway, who had carried the keys away with him until after the + inquest on the body.</p> + <p>The lumber room at the other end of the passage had not been locked, and the door + stood ajar. Colwyn entered it, and by the glancing light of the torch looked over the + heavy furniture, mouldering linen, and stiffly upended bedpoles and curtain rods + which nearly filled the room. The clock of a bygone generation stood on the + mantel-piece, and the black winding hole in its white face seemed to leer at him like + an evil eye as the light of the torch fell on it. But nobody had been in the room. + The dust which encrusted the furniture and the floor had not been disturbed for + months.</p> + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></p> + <p>Colwyn returned, puzzled, to his own room. Could he have been mistaken? Was it + possible that the sound he had heard had been caused by the door of the lumber room + swinging to? No! the sound had been too clear and distinct to admit the possibility + of mistake, and it had been made by the grating of a key in a lock, not by a swinging + door. He stood in the darkness by his open door, listening intently. Several minutes + passed in profound silence, and then there came a scraping, spluttering sound. + Somebody not far away had struck a match. Looking cautiously out into the passage, he + saw, to his utter amazement, a gleam of light appear beneath the door in which the + dead man lay. The next moment the gleam moved up the line of the door sideways, + cutting into the darkness outside like a knife. The gleam became broader until the + whole door was revealed. Somebody inside was opening it. Even as he looked a hand + stole forth from the aperture through which the light streamed, and rested on the + jamb outside.</p> + <p>Colwyn was a man of strong nerves, but that sudden manifestation of light and a + human hand from a sealed death chamber momentarily unbalanced his common sense, and + caused it to swing like a pendulum towards the supernatural. He would not have been + surprised if the light and the hand had been followed by the apparition of the + murdered man on the threshold, demanding vengeance on his murderer. The feeling + passed immediately, and with the return of reason the detective stepped back into his + room, closed his door quietly, and watched through a knife's edge slit for the + visitor to the death chamber to appear.</p> + <p>The door of the dead man's room opened gently, and the face of the innkeeper's + daughter peered forth into the darkness, her impassive face, behind which everything + was hid, showing like a beautiful waxen mask against the light of the candle she held + in her hand. Her clear gaze rested on Colwyn's door, and it seemed to him for a + moment as though their glances met through the slit, then her eyes swept along the + passage from one end to the other. As if satisfied by the scrutiny that she had + nothing to fear, she stepped forth from the death chamber, closed and locked the door + behind her, withdrew the key, walked swiftly along the passage to the head of the + stairs, and descended them.</p> + <p>Colwyn opened his door and followed her. He paused outside to pick up the boots + which he had placed there to be cleaned, and carrying them in his hand, ran quickly + to the head of the stairs. Looking over the landing, he saw the girl reach the bottom + of the stairs and turn down the passage towards the back door, still carrying the + lighted candle in her hand.</p> + <p>When Colwyn reached the bottom, the girl and the light had disappeared. But a + swift gust of wind in the passage<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" + id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> revealed to him that she had gone out by the back + door, and closed it after her. He followed along the passage till he felt the latch + of the back door in his hand. The door yielded to the lifting of the latch, and he + found himself in the open air.</p> + <p>It was a grey northern night, with a bitter wind driving the sea mist in billows + over the marshes, and a waning half moon shining fitfully through the dingy clouds + which scudded across a lead-coloured sky. By the light of the moon he saw the figure + of the girl, already some distance from the house, swiftly making her way along the + reedy canal path which threaded the oozing marshes.</p> + <p>Colwyn was not a stranger to marshlands. He had waded knee-deep from dawn to dusk + through Irish bogs after wild geese; he had followed the migratory seafowl of + Finland, Russia and Serbia into their Scottish breeding haunts, and he had once tried + to keep pace with the sweep of the Bore over the Solway Marshes, but he had never + undertaken a task so difficult as following this girl across a Norfolk marshland. The + path she trod so unhesitatingly was narrow, and slippery, with the canal on one side + and the marshes on the other. In keeping clear of the canal Colwyn frequently found + himself slipping into the marshes. His feet and legs speedily became wet and caked + with ooze, and once he nearly lost one of his boots, which he had pulled on hurriedly + outside the inn, and left unlaced.</p> + <p>But the girl walked straight on with a swift and even gait, treading the narrow + path across the morass as securely as though she had been on the high road. Colwyn + soon realised that the path they were following was taking them straight across the + marshes to the sea. The surging of the waves against the breakwater sounded + increasingly loud on his ears, and after a while he saw<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> the breakwater itself rise + momentarily out of the darkness like a yellow wall, only to disappear again. But + presently it was visible once more, looming out in increasing clearness, with a + ghostly glimmering of the grey waters of the North Sea heaving turbulently + outside.</p> + <p>As they neared the breakwater the path became drier and firmer, and the light of + the moon, falling through a ragged rift in the scurrying clouds, showed a line of + sand banks and strips of tussock-land emerging from the marshes as the marshes + approached the sea.</p> + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p> + <p>The girl kept on with the same resolute pace, until she reached a spot where the + canal found its outlet to the sea. There she turned aside and skirted the breakwater + wall for a little distance, as if searching for something. The next moment she was + scaling the breakwater wall. Colwyn was too far away to intercept her, or reach her + if she slipped. He stopped and watched her climb to the top of the wall, and stand + there, like a creature of the sea, with the spray leaping hungrily at her slight + figure. He saw her take something from the bosom of her dress and cast it into the + wild waste of seething waters in front of her. Having done this she turned to descend + the breakwater. Colwyn had barely time to leave the path, and take refuge in the + shadow of the wall, before she reached the path again and set out to retrace her + steps across the lonely marshes.</p> + <hr style="width: 35%;" size="6" /> + <h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> + <p>Colwyn waited on the marshes until the coming of the dawn revealed the breakwater + and the sea crashing against it. A brief scrutiny of the white waste of waters, + raging endlessly against the barrier, convinced him of the futility of attempting to + discover what the innkeeper's daughter had thrown from the breakwater wall an hour + before. The sea would retain her secret.</p> + <p>The sea mist hung heavily over the marshes as Colwyn cautiously picked his way + back along the slippery canal path. Sooner than he expected, the inn appeared from + the grey mist like a sheeted ghost. Colwyn stood for a few moments regarding the + place attentively. There was something weird and sinister about this lonely inn on + the edge of the marshes. Strange things must have happened there in the past, but the + lawless secrets of a bygone generation of smugglers had been safely kept by the old + inn. The cold morning light imparted the semblance of a leer to the circular windows + high up in the white wall, as though they defied the world to discover the secret of + the death of Roger Glenthorpe.</p> + <p>There was no sign of life about the inn as Colwyn approached it. The back door + yielded to his pull on the latch, and he gained his room unobserved; apparently all + the inmates were still wrapped in slumber. Colwyn spent half an hour or so in making + some sort of a toilet. He had brought a suit-case with him in the car, so he changed + his wet clothes, shaved himself in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" + id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> cold water, washed, and brushed his hair. He looked + at his watch, and found that it was after six o'clock. He wondered if the girl Peggy + was sleeping after her night's adventure.</p> + <p>A swishing noise, somewhere in the lower regions, broke the profound stillness of + the house. Somebody was washing the floor, somewhere. Colwyn opened his door and went + downstairs. Ann, the stout servant, was washing the passage. She was on her hands and + knees, with her back towards the staircase, swabbing vigorously, and did not see the + detective descending the stairs.</p> + <p>"Good morning, Ann," said Colwyn, pleasantly.</p> + <p>She turned her head quickly, with a start, and Colwyn could have sworn that the + quick glance she gave him was one of fear. But she merely said, "Good morning, sir," + and went on with her work, while the detective stood looking at her. She finished the + passage in a few minutes and got awkwardly to her feet, wiping her red hands on her + coarse apron.</p> + <p>"You and I are the only early risers in the house, it seems, Ann," said Colwyn, + still regarding her attentively.</p> + <p>"If you please, sir, Charles is up, and gone out to the canal to see if there are + any fish for breakfast on the master's night lines."</p> + <p>"Fresh fish for breakfast! Well, that's a very good thing," replied the detective, + reflecting it was just as well that he had got in before Charles went out. "What time + does Mr. Benson come down?"</p> + <p>"About half-past seven, sir, as a general rule, but sometimes he has his breakfast + in bed."</p> + <p>"That's not a bad idea at times, Ann. But I see you are impatient to get on with + your work. Would you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg + 120]</a></span> mind if I went into the kitchen and talked to you while you are + preparing breakfast?"</p> + <p>Again there was a gleam of fear in the woman's eyes as she looked quickly at the + detective, but her voice was self-possessed as she replied:</p> + <p>"Very well, sir," and turned down the passage which led to the kitchen.</p> + <p>"What time was it when you turned off the gas the night before last?" asked + Colwyn, when the kitchen was reached. "You told us yesterday that it was about + half-past ten, but you did not seem very sure of the exact time. Can you not fix it + accurately? Try and think."</p> + <p>The look the woman gave Colwyn this time was undoubtedly one of relief.</p> + <p>"Well, sir," she said, "I usually turn off the gas at ten o'clock, but, to tell + you the truth, I was a little bit late that night."</p> + <p>"A little bit late, eh? That means you forgot all about it."</p> + <p>"I did forget about it, and that's the truth. The master told me not to turn off + the meter until the gentlemen in the parlour upstairs had gone to bed. Charles told + me when he came down from the upstairs parlour with the last of the dinner things + that the gentlemen were still sitting in front of the fire talking, but some time + after Charles had come down and gone to bed I heard them moving about upstairs, as + though they were going to their rooms."</p> + <p>"What time was that?" asked the detective.</p> + <p>"Just half-past ten. I happened to glance at the kitchen clock at the time. + Charles, who had been told that he wouldn't be wanted upstairs again, had gone to bed + quite half an hour before, but I didn't go until I had folded some clothes which I + had airing in front<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg + 121]</a></span> of the kitchen fire. When I did get to bed, and was just falling off + to sleep, I suddenly remembered that I had forgotten to turn off the gas at the + meter. I got out of bed again, lit my candle, and went up the passage to the meter, + which is just under the foot of the stairs, turned off the gas, and went back to + bed."</p> + <p>"Did you notice the time then?"</p> + <p>"The kitchen clock was just chiming eleven as I got back to my bed."</p> + <p>"You are sure it was not twelve?"</p> + <p>"Quite sure, sir."</p> + <p>"Did you hear any sound upstairs?"</p> + <p>"No, sir. It was as quiet as the dead."</p> + <p>"Was it raining at that time?"</p> + <p>"It started to rain heavens hard just as I got back to bed, but before that the + wind was moaning round the house, as it do moan in these parts, and I knew we was in + for a storm. I was glad enough to get back to my warm bed."</p> + <p>"You might have seen something, if you had been a little later. The staircase is + the only way the body could have been brought down from <i>there</i>." The detective + pointed to the room above where the dead man lay.</p> + <p>The woman trembled violently.</p> + <p>"It's God's mercy I didn't see something," she said, and her voice fell to a husky + whisper. "I should 'a' died wi' fright if I had seen <i>it</i> being brought + downstairs. All day long I've been thanking God I didn't see anything."</p> + <p>"Do nobody else but you and Charles sleep downstairs?"</p> + <p>"Nobody, sir. I sleep in a small room off the kitchen, but Charles sleeps in one + of the rooms in the passage<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg + 122]</a></span> which leads off the kitchen, the first room, not far from my own. But + that'd been no help to me if I'd seen anything. I might have screamed the house down + before Charles would have heard me, he being stone deaf."</p> + <p>"Quite true, Ann. And now is that all you have to tell me about the gas?"</p> + <p>The woman seemed to have some difficulty in replying, but finally she stammered + out in an embarrassed voice, plucking at her apron the while:</p> + <p>"Yes, sir."</p> + <p>"Look at me, Ann, and tell me the truth. Come now, it will be better for + everybody."</p> + <p>The countrywoman looked at the detective with whitening face, and there was + something in his penetrating gaze that kept her frightened eyes fixed on his.</p> + <p>"Please, sir——"</p> + <p>"Yes, Ann, go on," prompted the detective encouragingly.</p> + <p>But the woman didn't go on; there crept into her face instead an obstinate look, + her mouth closed tightly, and her hands ceased twitching.</p> + <p>"I've told you everything, sir," she said quietly.</p> + <p>"You've not told me you found the meter turned on when you got up next morning," + replied the detective sternly.</p> + <p>The woman's fat face turned haggard with anxiety, and then she began to cry softly + with her apron to her eyes.</p> + <p>"Why did you not tell us this, Ann?"</p> + <p>"If you please, sir, I thought that the master mightn't like it if he knew. He's + very particular about having the gas turned off at night, and he might have thought I + had forgotten it."</p> + <p>Colwyn gave her another searching look.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" + id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span></p> + <p>"Even if that were true, Ann, you have no right to keep back anything that may + tend to shield the guilty, or injure the innocent."</p> + <p>"I didn't think it mattered, sir."</p> + <p>"You still say that you heard nothing after you went to bed?"</p> + <p>"No, sir. I fell asleep as soon as I got into bed."</p> + <p>"So you said before, but you did not tell us the whole truth yesterday, you know, + and I do not know whether to believe you now."</p> + <p>"Hush, sir, there's somebody coming down the passage."</p> + <p>Colwyn strolled into the passage and encountered Superintendent Galloway coming + towards the kitchen. He stared at the detective and exclaimed:</p> + <p>"Hello, you're up early."</p> + <p>"Yes; I found it difficult to sleep, so I came downstairs."</p> + <p>"I hope you've not been making love to Ann," said Galloway, who had his own sense + of humour. "I'm looking for this infernal waiter, Charles. He is never about when + he's wanted. Charles! Charles!"</p> + <p>Superintendent Galloway's shouts brought Ann hurrying from the kitchen, and she + explained to him, as she had explained to Colwyn, that Charles had gone on to the + marshes to look for fish.</p> + <p>"Send him to my room as soon as he comes in; I've other fish for him to fry," + grumbled the superintendent. "A queer household this," he said to Colwyn, as they + walked along the passage. "Ah, here is Charles, fish and all."</p> + <p>The fat waiter was hurrying in with a string of fish in his hand, and he came + towards them in response to Superintendent Galloway's commanding gesture. The<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> superintendent + told him to go out and intercept Constable Queensmead before he went out with his + search party, and bring him to the inn. Charles nodded an indication that he + understood the instruction, and turned away to execute it.</p> + <p>"I want Queensmead to get a dozen of the village blockheads together for a jury," + he said to Colwyn. "The coroner sent me word before we left Durrington yesterday that + he'd be over this morning, but he did not say what time, and I forgot to ask him. + He's the man to kick up a devil of a shindy if he came and found we were not ready + for him."</p> + <p>Queensmead speedily appeared in response to the summons, listened quietly to + Superintendent Galloway's laconic command to catch a jury and catch them quick, and + went back to the village to secure twelve good men and true.</p> + <p>Colwyn and Galloway meanwhile breakfasted together in the bar parlour, on some of + the fish which Charles had brought in. As nothing followed the fish Superintendent + Galloway, who was an excellent trencherman, rang the bell and ordered the waiter to + bring some eggs and bacon. The waiter hesitated a moment, and then said that he + believed they were out of bacon. There were some eggs, if they would do.</p> + <p>"Bring me a couple, boiled, as quick as you like," said the superintendent. "This + is a queer kind of inn," he grumbled to Colwyn. "They don't give you enough to + eat."</p> + <p>"I think they're a little short themselves," replied Colwyn.</p> + <p>"By Jove, I believe you're right!" said the superintendent, staring hard at the + edibles on the table before him. "There's not much here—a piece of butter + no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> bigger + than a walnut, a spoonful of jam, and tea as weak as water. Come to think of it, they + gave us nothing but some of Glenthorpe's left over game for dinner last night. You're + right, they are <i>hard up</i>."</p> + <p>Superintendent Galloway looked at Colwyn with as much animation on his heavy + features as though he had lighted on some new and important discovery. Colwyn, who + had finished his breakfast and was not particularly interested in the conversation, + strolled out with the intention of smoking a cigar outside the front door. In the + passage he encountered Ann, bearing a tray with two cups and saucers, a pot of tea + and some bread and butter which she proceeded to carry upstairs. Colwyn wondered for + whom the breakfast was intended. There were three people upstairs—the father, + his daughter, and the poor mad woman, and the breakfast was laid for two. The + appearance of the innkeeper descending the stairs, answered the question. Colwyn + accosted him as he came down.</p> + <p>"You're a late riser, Benson."</p> + <p>"Yes, sir, it's a bit difficult to handle Mother in the morning: the only way to + keep her quiet is for me to stay with her until Peggy is ready to go to her and give + her her breakfast. Mother is quiet enough with Peggy and me, but nobody else can do + anything with her, and sometimes nobody can do anything with her except my daughter. + She spends a lot of time with her, sir."</p> + <p>The innkeeper looked more like a bird than ever as he proffered this explanation, + standing at the foot of the stairs dressed as he had been the previous night, with + his bright bird's eyes peering from beneath his shock of iron-grey hair at the man in + front of him. Colwyn noticed that his hair had been recently wet,<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> and plastered + straight down so that it hung like a ridge over his forehead—just as it had + been the previous night. Colwyn wondered why the man wore his hair like that. Did he + always affect that eccentric style of hairdressing, or had he adopted it to alter his + personal appearance—to disguise himself, or to conceal something?</p> + <p>"It's no life for a young girl," said the detective, in answer to the innkeeper's + last remark.</p> + <p>"I know that, sir. But what am I to do? I cannot afford to keep a nurse. Peggy + never complains. She's used to it. But if you'll excuse me, sir. I must go and get + the room ready for the inquest."</p> + <p>"What room is it going to be held in?"</p> + <p>"Superintendent Galloway told me to put a table and some chairs into the last + empty room off the passage leading into the kitchen. It's the biggest room in the + house, and there are plenty of chairs in the lumber room upstairs."</p> + <p>"It should do excellently for the purpose, I should think," said Colwyn.</p> + <p>A few moments later he saw the innkeeper and the waiter carrying chairs from the + lumber room downstairs into the empty room, where Ann dusted them. Then they carried + in a small table from another room. Superintendent Galloway, with inky fingers and a + red face, and a sheaf of foolscap papers in his hand, came bustling out of the bar + parlour to superintend the arrangements. When the chairs had been placed to his + liking he ordered the innkeeper to bring him a glass of ale. While he was drinking it + Constable Queensmead entered the front door with a file of shambling, rough-looking + villagers trailing behind him, and announced to his superior officer that the men + were intended to form a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg + 127]</a></span> jury. Superintendent Galloway seemed quite satisfied with their + appearance, and remarked to Colwyn that he didn't care how soon the coroner + arrived—now he had the jury and witnesses ready for him.</p> + <p>"How many witnesses do you propose to call?" said Colwyn.</p> + <p>"Five: Queensmead, Benson, the waiter, and the two men who found the footprints + leading to the pit and who recovered the body and brought it here. That's enough for + a committal. The coroner will no doubt bring a doctor from Heathfield to certify the + cause of death. I've got all the statements ready. I took Benson's and the waiter's + yesterday. The waiter's evidence is the principal thing, of course. Do you remember + suggesting to me last night the possibility of this murder having been committed by + one of Mr. Glenthorpe's workmen with a grudge against him? Well, it's a very strange + thing, but Queensmead was telling me this morning that one of Mr. Glenthorpe's + workmen had a grudge against him. He's a chap named Hyson, the local ne'er-do-well, + who was almost starving when Mr. Glenthorpe came to the district. Glenthorpe was + warned against employing him, but the fellow got round him with a piteous tale, and + he put him on. He proved to be just as ungrateful as the average British workman, and + caused the old gentleman a lot of trouble. He seems to have been a bit of a sea + lawyer, and tried to disaffect the other workmen by talking to them about socialism, + and the rights of labour, and that sort of rubbish. When I heard this I had the chap + brought to the inn and cross-questioned him a bit, but I am certain that he had + nothing to do with the murder. He's a weak, spineless sort of chap, full of argument + and fond of beer—that's his character in the village—and the last man in + the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> world + to commit a murder like this. I flatter myself," added Superintendent Galloway in a + tone of mingled self-complacency and pride, "that I know a murderer when I see + one."</p> + <p>"Have you made any inquiries about umbrellas?" asked Colwyn.</p> + <p>"Yes. Apparently Ronald did not bring an umbrella with him, though it's cost me + some trouble to establish that fact. It is astonishing how unobservant people are + about such things as umbrellas, sticks, and handbags. Most people remember faces and + clothes with some accuracy, but cannot recall whether a person carried an umbrella or + walking-stick. Charles is not sure whether Ronald carried an umbrella, Benson thinks + he did not, and Ann is sure he didn't. The balance of evidence being on the negative + side, I assume that Ronald did not bring an umbrella to the inn, because it was more + likely to have been noticed if he had. I next inquired about the umbrellas in the + house. At first I was told there were only two—a cumbrous, Robinson Crusoe sort + of affair, kept in the kitchen and used by the servant, and a smaller one, belonging + to Benson's daughter. I have examined both. The covering of the girl's umbrella is + complete. Ann's is rent in several places, but the covering is blue, whereas the + piece of umbrella covering we found adhering to Mr. Glenthorpe's window is black. + While I was questioning Ann she suddenly remembered that there was another umbrella + in that lumber-room upstairs. We went upstairs to look for it, but we couldn't find + it, though Ann says she saw it there a day or two before the murder. I think we may + assume that Ronald took it."</p> + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p> + <p>"But Ronald was a stranger to the place. How would he know the umbrella was in the + lumber-room?" said Colwyn, who had followed Galloway's narrative with close + attention.</p> + <p>"The door of the lumber-room stands ajar. Ronald probably looked in from + curiosity, and saw the umbrella."</p> + <p>The easy assurance with which Superintendent Galloway dismissed or got over + difficulties which interfered with his own theory did not commend itself to Colwyn, + but he did not pursue the point further.</p> + <p>"Is the umbrella still missing?" he asked.</p> + <p>"Yes. It seems that even a murderer cannot be trusted to return an umbrella." + Superintendent Galloway laughed shortly at his grim joke and walked away to supervise + the preparations for the inquest.</p> + <p>The coroner presently arrived from Heathfield in a small runabout motor-car which + he drove himself, with a tall man sitting beside him, and a short pursy young man in + the back seat nursing a portable typewriter and an attaché case on his knees. + Toiling in the rear, some distance behind the car, was a figure on a bicycle, which + subsequently turned out to be the reporter of the Heathfield local paper, who had + come over with instructions from one of the London agencies to send a twenty line + report of the inquest for the London press. In peace times "specials" would probably + have been despatched from the metropolis to "do a display story," and interview some + of the persons concerned, but the war had discounted by seventy-five per cent the + value of murders as newspaper "copy."</p> + <p>The coroner, a short, stout, commonplace little man, jumped out of the car as soon + as it stopped, and bustled into the inn with an air of fussy official importance, + leaving his companions to follow.</p> + <p>"Good day, Galloway," he exclaimed, as that officer<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> came forward to greet him. "I hope + you've got everything ready."</p> + <p>"Everything's ready, Mr. Edgehill. Do you intend to commence before lunch?"</p> + <p>"Of course I do. Are you aware that it is war-time? How many witnesses have + you?"</p> + <p>"Five, sir. Their statements have all been taken."</p> + <p>"Then I shall go straight through—it seems a simple case—merely a + matter of form, from what I have heard of it. I have another inquest at Downside at + four o'clock. Where's the body? Upstairs? Doctor"—this to the tall thin man who + had sat beside him in the run-about—"will you go upstairs with Queensmead and + make your examination? Where's the jury? Pendy"—this to the young man with the + typewriter and attaché case—"get everything ready and swear in the jury. + Galloway will show you the room. What's that? Oh, that's quite all right"—this + in reply to some murmured apology on the part of Superintendent Galloway for the + mental incapacity of the jury—"we ought to be glad to get juries at + all—in war-time."</p> + <p>Colwyn had feared that the result of the inquest was a foregone conclusion the + moment he saw the coroner alighting from his motor-car outside the inn. Ten minutes + later, when the little man had commenced his investigations, he realised that the + proceedings were merely a formal compliance with the law, and in no sense of the word + an inquiry.</p> + <p>Mr. Edgehill, the coroner, was one of those people who seized upon the war as a + pretext for the exercise of their natural proclivity to interfere in other people's + affairs. He took the opportunity that every inquest gave him to lecture the British + public on their duties and responsibilities in war-time. The body on which he was + sitting<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> + formed his text, the jury was his congregation, and the newspaper reporters the + vehicles by which his admonitions were conveyed to the nation. Mr. Edgehill saw a + shirker in every suicide, national improvidence in a corpse with empty pockets, and + had even been able to discover a declining war _morale_ in death by misadventure. He + thanked God for air raids and food queues because they brought the war home to + civilians, and he was never tired of asserting that he lived on half the voluntary + rations scale, did harder work, felt ten years younger, and a hundred times more + virtuous, in consequence.</p> + <p>If he did not actually insert the last clause his look implied a superior virtue + to his fellow creatures, and was meekly accepted as such. He never held an inquest + without introducing some remarks upon uninterned aliens, the military age, Ireland + and conscription, soldiers' wives and drinking, the prevalence of bigamy, and other + popular war-time topics. In short, Mr. Edgehill, like many other people, had used the + war to emerge from a chrysalis existence as a local bore into a butterfly career as a + public nuisance. In that capacity he was still good "copy" in some of the London + newspapers, and was even occasionally referred to in leading articles as a fine + example of the sturdy country spirit which Londoners would do well to emulate.</p> + <p>Before commencing his inquiry into the death of Mr. Glenthorpe, the coroner + indignantly expressed his surprise that a small hamlet like Flegne could produce so + many able-bodied men to serve on a jury in war-time. But after ascertaining that all + the members of the jury were over military age, with the exception of one man who was + afflicted with heart disease, he suffered the inquest to proceed.<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p> + <p>The evidence of the innkeeper and the waiter was a repetition of the story they + had told to the chief constable on the preceding day. Constable Queensmead, in his + composed way, gave an account of his preliminary investigations into the crime, and + the finding of the body.</p> + <p>The only additional evidence brought forward was given by two of the men who had + been in the late Mr. Glenthorpe's employ. These men, Herward and Duney, had found the + track of the footprints in the clay near the pit on going to work the previous + morning. After the discovery that Mr. Glenthorpe was missing from the inn, Herward + had been let down into the pit by a rope, and had brought up the body. Both these men + told their story with a wealth of unlettered detail, and Duney, who was one of the + aboriginals of the district, added his personal opinion that t'oud ma'aster mun 'a' + been very dead afore the chap got him in the pit, else he would 'a' dinged one of the + chap's eyes in, t'oud ma'aster not bein' a man to be taken anywhere against his will. + However, the chap that carried him must 'a' been powerful strong, because Herward + told him his own arms were begunnin' ter ache good tidily just a-howdin' him up to + the rope when they wor being a-hawled out the pit.</p> + <p>The coroner, in his summing up, dwelt upon the strong circumstantial evidence + against Ronald, and the folly of the deceased in withdrawing a large sum of money + from the bank for the purpose of carrying out scientific research in war-time. "Had + he invested that money in war bonds he would have probably been alive to-day," said + Mr. Edgehill gravely. The jury had no hesitation in returning a verdict of wilful + murder against James Ronald.</p> + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span></p> + <p>The coroner, the doctor, the clerk carrying the type<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>writer and the attaché case, + and Superintendent Galloway departed in the runabout motor-car shortly afterwards. + Before evening a mortuary van, with two men, appeared from Heathfield and removed the + body of the murdered man.</p> + <hr style="width: 35%;" size="6" /> + <h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> + <p>If the inmates of the inn felt any surprise at Colwyn's remaining after the + inquest, they did not betray it. That evening Ann nervously intercepted him to ask if + he would have a partridge for his dinner, and Colwyn, remembering the shortness of + the inn larder, replied that a partridge would do very well. Later on Charles served + it in the bar parlour, and waited with his black eyes fixed on Colwyn's lips, + sometimes anticipating his orders before they were uttered. He brought a bottle of + claret from the inn cellar, assuring Colwyn in his soft whisper that he would find + the wine excellent, and Colwyn, after sampling it, found no reason for disagreeing + with the waiter's judgment.</p> + <p>At the conclusion of the meal Colwyn sent for the innkeeper, and asked him a + number of questions about the district and its inhabitants. The innkeeper intimated + that Flegne was a poor place at the best of times, but the war had made it worse, and + the poorer folk—the villagers who lived in the beach-stone cottages—were + sometimes hard-pressed to keep body and soul together. They did what they could, + eking out their scanty earnings by eel-fishing on the marshes, and occasionally + snaring a few wild fowl. Mr. Glenthorpe's researches in the district had been a + godsend because of the employment he had given, which had brought a little ready + money into the place.</p> + <p>It was obvious to Colwyn's alert intelligence that the innkeeper did not care to + talk about his dead guest.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg + 135]</a></span></p> + <p>There was no visible reluctance—indeed, it would have been hard to trace the + sign of any particular emotion on his queer, bird-like face—but his replies were + slow in coming when questioned about Mr. Glenthorpe, and he made several attempts to + turn the conversation in another direction. When he had finished a glass of wine + Colwyn offered him, he got up from the table with the remark that it was time for him + to return to the bar.</p> + <p>"I will go with you," said Colwyn. "It will help to pass away an hour."</p> + <p>There were about a dozen men in the bar—agricultural labourers and + fishermen—clustered in groups of twos and threes in front of the counter, or + sitting on stools by the wall, drinking ale by the light of a smoky oil lamp which + hung from the rafters. The fat deaf waiter was in the earthy recess behind the + counter, drawing ale into stone mugs.</p> + <p>A loud voice which had been holding forth ceased suddenly as Colwyn entered. The + inmates of the bar regarded him questioningly, and some resentfully, as though they + considered his presence an intrusion. But Colwyn was accustomed to making himself at + home in all sorts of company. He walked across the bar, called for some whisky, and, + while it was being served, addressed a friendly remark to the nearest group to him. + One of the men, a white-bearded, keen-eyed Norfolk man, answered his question civilly + enough. He had asked about wild fowl shooting in the neighbourhood, and the old man + had been a water bailiff on the Broads in his younger days. The question of sport + will draw most men together. One after another of the villagers joined in the + conversation, and were soon as much at home with Colwyn as though they had known him + from boyhood. Some of them were going eel-fishing that<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> night, and Colwyn violated the + provisions of the "no treating" order to give them a glass of whisky to keep out the + cold of the marshes. The rest of the tap room he regaled with ale.</p> + <p>From these Norfolk fishermen Colwyn learnt many of the secrets of the wild and + many cunning methods of capturing its creatures, but the real object of his visit to + the bar—to discover whether any of the frequenters of the <i>Golden Anchor</i> + had ever seen Ronald in the district before the evening of the murder—remained + unsatisfied. He was a stranger to "theer" parts, the men said, in response to + questions on the subject.</p> + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span></p> + <p>But "theer" parts were limited to a mile or so of the marshland in which they + spent their narrow, lonely lives. Their conversation revealed that they seldom went + outside that narrow domain. Durrington, which was little more than ten miles away, + was only a name to them. Many of them had not been as far as Leyland for months. They + spent their days catching eels in the marsh canals, or in setting lobster and crab + traps outside the breakwater. The agricultural labourers tilled the same patch of + ground year after year. They had no recreations except an occasional night at the + inn; their existence was a lifelong struggle with Nature for a bare subsistence. Most + of them had been born in the beach-stone cottages where their fathers had been born + before them, and most of them would die, as their fathers had died, in the little + damp bedrooms where they had first seen the light, passing away, as their fathers had + passed away, listening to the sound of the North Sea restlessly beating against the + breakwater. That sound was never out of their ears while they lived, and it was the + dirge to which they died. Such was their life, but they knew no other, and wished no + other.</p> + <p>Colwyn was early astir the following morning, and after breakfast went out. His + purpose was to try to discover something which would throw light on Ronald's + appearance at Flegne. With that object he scoured the country for some miles in the + direction of Heathfield, for he deemed the possibility of Ronald having come by that + route worth inquiring into. But his time was wasted; none of his inquiries brought to + light anything to suggest that Ronald had ever been in the district before.</p> + <p>When he returned to the village the day was more than half spent. As he entered + the inn, he encountered Charles, who stopped when he saw him.</p> + <p>"There are two men in the bar asking to see you, sir," he said, in his soft + whisper. "Duney and Backlos are their names. They say they saw you in the bar last + night, and they would like to speak to you privately, if you have no objection."</p> + <p>"Show them into the bar parlour," the detective said. "And, Charles, you might ask + Ann to let me have a little lunch when they are gone."</p> + <p>Colwyn proceeded to the bar parlour. A moment or two afterwards the waiter ushered + in two men and withdrew, closing the door after him.</p> + <p>In response to Colwyn's request, his two visitors seated themselves awkwardly, but + they seemed to have considerable difficulty in stating the object of their visit. + Duney, one of the men who had helped to recover Mr. Glenthorpe's body from the pit, + was a short, thickset, hairy-faced man, with round surprised eyes, which he kept + intently fixed upon the detective's face, as though seeking inspiration for speech + from that source. The other man, Backlos, was a tall, hawk-featured man with a + sweeping black moustache, who needed only gaudy habili<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span>ments to make him the ideal pirate + king of the comic opera stage. It was he who spoke first.</p> + <p>"If you please, ma'aster, we uns come to you thinkin' as you might gi' us a bit o' + advice."</p> + <p>"About somefin' we seed last night," explained Mr. Duney, finding his own voice at + the sound of his companion's.</p> + <p>"I thowt 'ow 'twas agreed 'tween us I wor to tell the gentleman, bor?" growled the + pirate king, turning a pair of dusky eyes on his companion. "Yow allus have a way o' + overdoin' things, you know, Dick."</p> + <p>"Right, bor, right," replied Mr. Duney. "Yow oughter know I only wanted to help + yow out, Billy."</p> + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p> + <p>"I dawn't want onny helpin' out," replied the pirate. "It's loike this 'ere, + ma'aster," he continued, turning again to Colwyn. "Arter Dick and I left the + <i>Anchor</i> las' night, we thowt we'd be walkin' a spell. We wor a talkin' o' th' + murder at th' time, and wonderin' what we wor to do fur another job o' work, things + bein' moighty bad heerabouts, when, as we neared top o' th' rise, we heered the + rummiest kind o' noise a man ever heerd, comin' from that theer wood by th' pits. + Dick says to me, in a skeered kind of voice, 'That's fair a rum un,' says he. There + wornt much mune at th' time, but we could see things clar enough, and thow we looked + around us we couldn't see a livin' thing a movin' either nigh th' woods nor on th' + ma'shes. While we looked we seed a big harnsee rise out o' th' woods and go a + flappin' away across th' ma'shes. Then all of a suddint we saw somefin' come + a-wamblin' outer the shadder o' the wood, and run along by th' edge of ut. We + couldn't make out a' furst what it moight be, thow for sure we got a rare fright. For + my part, I thowt it might a' been ole Black Shuck, thow th' night didn't seem windy + enough for un."</p> + <p>"Stop a bit," said Colwyn. "What do you mean by Black Shuck? Oh, I remember. It's + a Norfolk tradition or ghost story, isn't it? Black Shuck is supposed to be a big + black dog, with one eye in the middle of the head, who runs without sound and howls + louder than the wind. Whoever meets him is sure to die before the year is out."</p> + <p>"That's him," said Mr. Backlos, affirming, with a grave nod of his head, his own + profound belief in the canine apparition in question. "My grandfeyther seen un once + not a hundred yards from the very spot were we wor standin' last night, and, sure + enough, he died afore three months wor out. Dick and I couldn't tell what it wor we + see creepin' out o' th' shadder o' th' wood, an' to tell yow th' trewth, ma'aster, we + didn't care to look agen. I asked Dick if he didn't think it wor Black Shuck. 'Naw + daywt,' says Dick, 'if it ain't somefin' worse.' 'What do'st a' mean, bor?' says I. + 'Well,' says Dick slowly like, 'it might be the sperrit from th' pit, for 'twas in no + mortal man to holler out like that cry we just heered.' Wornt those yower words, + bor?"</p> + <p>Mr. Duney, thus appealed to, nodded portentously, as though to indicate that his + words were well justified.</p> + <p>"Never mind the spirit from the pit," said Colwyn. "Go on with your story."</p> + <p>"Well, ma'aster, just as we wor walkin' away from th' wood as fast as ever we + could, th' mune come out from behind th' shadder of a cloud, and threw a light right + ower th' wood. We just happened to give a glance round ahind us at th' time, to see + if we wor bein' follered, and, by its light, we saw a man a creepin' back into th' + wood."</p> + <p>"A man? Are you sure it was a man?"</p> + <p>"There's no manner o' doubt about that, ma'aster. We both saw it once, and we + didn't wait to look again. We run as hard as we could pelt to Dick's cottage by + the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> + ma'shes, and got inside and stood listenin' to heer if we were bein' follered. Dick + says to me, says 'e, 'S'posen it wor the chap who murdered owd Mr. Glenthorpe at the + <i>Anchor</i>?' I thowt as much meself, but a' tried to laugh it off, and says to + Dick, 'What for should it be him? He's far enough away by this time, for we s'arched + the place round fur miles, and we took in that theer wood where we just see un.' 'We + never s'arched th' wood,' says Dick, 'leastways, not proper, an' it's a rare hidin' + place for un.' 'So it be, to be sure,' says I. 'If he sees that there light we'll be + browt out from heer dead men,' says Dick. 'So we will, for sartin,' says I. 'Let's + put out th' light, so th' bloody-minded murderer won't ha' narthin' to go by if he + ain't seen it yet.' So we put out th' light and stayed theer till th' mornin', when + we went out to work, and then when I seed Dick later we thowt we'd come and tell you + all about it, seein' as yower a gentleman, and in consiquence a man of larnin', and + might p'rhaps tell us what we'd better do."</p> + <p>"You have certainly done the proper thing in disclosing what you have seen," said + the detective, after a thoughtful pause. "But why have you come to me in the matter? + It seems to me that the proper course to pursue would be to lay your information + before Constable Queensmead."</p> + <p>The two men exchanged a glance of conscious embarrassment. Then Mr. Backlos, with + the air of a man who had made up his mind to take the bull by the horns, blurted + out:</p> + <p>"It's like this, ma'aster. We be in a bit o' a fix about that. Yow see, last night + we were out arter conies, and thow I can swar we were out in th' open and not lookin' + for conies on annybody's land, cos Dick an' I have already bin fined ten bob for + snarin' conies on Farmer<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg + 141]</a></span> Cranley's land, an' if we went to Queensmead he moight think we'd + been a snarin' there again. So Dick says to me, says he, 'Why not see the chap wot + came into th' <i>Anchor</i> bar last night? Annybody can see wi' half an eye that + he's a real swell, for didn't he stand treat all round—an' wot he says we'll go + by, and 'e won't treat us dirty, whatever he says, though, mind ye, bor, there's + narthin' to gi' away. So let's go to thissun, an' tell un all about it.'"</p> + <p>"I also tol' yow, Billy, that if thar be a reward out for this chap wot killed Mr. + Glenthorpe, thissun 'ud tell us how to get it without sharin' wi' Queensmead, who + does narthin' but take th' bread owt o' ower mouths, he bein' so sharp about th' + conies. For if this chap in th' woods is the one wot killed owd Mr. Glenthorpe, we + have a right to th' money for cotchin' un. Didn't I say that, Billy?"</p> + <p>"Yow did, bor, yow did; them wor yower vaery words," acquiesced Mr. Backlos.</p> + <p>"I think you had better leave the matter in my hands," said Colwyn, with + difficulty repressing a smile at this exceedingly Norfolk explanation. "And now, you + had better have a drink, for I am sure you must be dry after all that talk."</p> + <p>The men, after drinking Colwyn's health in two mugs of ale, departed with placid + countenances, and Colwyn was left to meditate over the news they had imparted. The + result of his meditations was that he presently went forth in search of Police + Constable Queensmead.</p> + <p>The constable lived in the village street—in a beach-stone cottage which was + in slightly better repair than its neighbours, and much better kept. There were white + curtains in the windows, and in the garden a few late stocks and hardy climbing roses + were making a brave<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg + 142]</a></span> effort to bloom in depressing surroundings. It was Queensmead who + answered the door to the detective's knock, and he led the way inside to his little + office when he saw who his visitor was.</p> + <p>"I do not think these chaps saw anything except what their own fears created," he + said, after Colwyn had told him as much of the two men's story as he saw fit to + impart. "I searched the wood thoroughly the day after the murder. Ronald was not + there then."</p> + <p>"He may have come back since."</p> + <p>Queensmead's dark eyes lingered thoughtfully on the detective's face, as though + seeking to gather the meaning underlying his words.</p> + <p>"Why should he do such a foolish thing, sir?" he asked.</p> + <p>"It is not always easy to account for a man's actions."</p> + <p>"It is hard to account for a man wanted by the police running his head into a + noose."</p> + <p>"Ronald may not know he is wanted by the police."</p> + <p>"Why, of course he must know. If he doesn't——" Queensmead broke off + suddenly and looked at the detective queerly, as if suddenly realising all that the + remark implied. "You must have some strange ideas about this case," he added + slowly.</p> + <p>"I have, but we won't go into them now," said the detective, with a slight smile. + He appreciated the fact that the other was, to use an American colloquialism, "quick + on the uptake." "Your immediate duty is clear."</p> + <p>"You mean I should search the wood again?" said Queensmead, with the same quick + comprehension as before. "Very well. Will you come with me?"</p> + <p>Colwyn nodded, and Queensmead, without more ado, took a revolver and a pair of + handcuffs from a cupboard, slipped them into his pockets, and announced that<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> he was ready. He + opened the door for his visitor to precede him, and they set forth.</p> + <p>The hut circles on the rise looked more desolate than ever in the waning afternoon + light. The excavations commenced by Mr. Glenthorpe had been abandoned, and a spade + left sticking in the upturned earth had rusted in the damp air. The track of the + footprints to the pit in which the body had been flung still showed distinctly in the + clay, and the splash of blood gleamed dully on the edge of the hole. On the other + side of the pit the trees of the wood stood in stunted outline against a lowering + black sky.</p> + <p>The two men entered the wood silently. The trees were of great age, the trunks + thick and gnarled, with low twisted boughs, running and interlacing in every + direction. So thickly were they intertwined that it was twilight in the sombre depths + of the wood, although the fierce winds from the North Sea had already stripped the + upper branches of leaves. The ground was covered with a rank and rotting undergrowth, + from which tiny spirals of vapour, like gnomes' fires, floated upwards. The silence + was absolute; even the birds of the coast seemed to shun the place, which looked as + if it had been untrodden since the days when the beast men of the Stone Age prowled + through its dim recesses to the hut circles on the rise.</p> + <p>Colwyn and Queensmead searched the wood and the matted undergrowth as they + progressed, closely scrutinising the ferny hollows, looking up into the trees, + examining the thickets and clumps of shrubs. They had reached the centre of the wood, + and were picking their way through a rank growth of nettles which covered the decayed + bracken, when Colwyn experienced a mental perception as tangible as a cold hand + placed upon the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg + 144]</a></span> brow of a sleeper. He had the swift feeling that there was somebody + else besides themselves in the solitude of the wood—somebody who was watching + them. He looked around him intently, and his eyes fell upon a screen of interlaced + branches which grew on the other side of the dip they were traversing. Without any + conscious effort on his own part, his eyes travelled to the thickest part of the + obstruction, and encountered another pair of eyes gazing at him steadily from the + depths of the leafy screen. That gaze held his own for a moment, and then vanished. + He looked again, but the screen was now unbroken, and not the rustle of a leaf + betrayed the person who was concealed within.</p> + <p>Colwyn touched Queensmead's arm.</p> + <p>"There is somebody hiding in those bushes ahead of us," he whispered.</p> + <p>Queensmead's eyes ran swiftly along the clump of bushes ahead, and he raised his + revolver.</p> + <p>"Come out, or I'll fire!" he cried.</p> + <p>His sharp command shattered the heavy silence like the crack of a firearm. The + next moment the figure of a man broke from the twisted branches and walked down the + slope towards them. It was Ronald.</p> + <p>"Put up your hands, Ronald," commanded Queensmead sternly, poising the revolver at + the advancing man. "Put them up, or I'll fire."</p> + <p>"Fire if you like."</p> + <p>The words fell from Ronald's lips wearily, but he did not put up his hands. His + clothes were torn and stained, his face gaunt and lined, and in his tired eyes was + the look of a man who had lived in the solitudes with no other companion but despair. + Queensmead stepped forward and with a swift gesture snapped the handcuffs on his + wrist.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span></p> + <p>"I arrest you for the murder of Roger Glenthorpe," he said.</p> + <p>"I could have got away from you if I had wanted," said the young man wearily. "But + what was the use? I'm glad it is over."</p> + <p>"I warn you, Ronald, that any statement you now make may be used against you on + your trial," broke in Queensmead harshly.</p> + <p>"My good fellow, I know all about that." The sudden note of imperiousness in his + manner reminded Colwyn of the way in which he had snubbed Sir Henry Durwood in his + bedroom at the Durrington hotel three mornings before. But it was in his previous + indifferent tone that the young man added: "Have either of you a spirit flask?"</p> + <p>Police Constable Queensmead eyed his captive with the critical eye of an officer + of justice upon whom devolved the responsibility of bringing his man fit and well to + trial. Ronald's face had gone haggard and white, and he lurched a little in his walk. + Then he stood still, and regarded the two men weakly.</p> + <p>"I'm about done up," he admitted.</p> + <p>"We'd better take him to the inn and get him some brandy," said Queensmead. "Take + his other arm, will you?"</p> + <p>They returned slowly with Ronald between them. He did not ask where they were + taking him, but stumbled along on their supporting arms like a man in a dream, with + his eyes fixed on the ground. When clear of the wood, Queensmead led his prisoner + past the pit where Mr. Glenthorpe's body had been cast, but Ronald did not even + glance at the yawning hole alongside of him. It was when they were descending the + slope towards the inn that Colwyn noticed a change in his indifferent de<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span>meanour. He + raised his head and surveyed the inn with sombre eyes, and then his glance travelled + swiftly to his pinioned hands. For a moment his frame stiffened slightly, as though + he were about to resist being taken farther. But if that were his intention the mood + passed. The next moment he was walking along with his previous indifference.</p> + <p>When they reached the inn Queensmead asked Colwyn in a whisper to keep an eye on + the prisoner while he went inside and got the brandy. As soon as he had gone Colwyn + turned to Ronald and earnestly said:</p> + <p>"You may not know me, apart from our chance meeting at Durrington, but I am + anxious to help you, if you are innocent."</p> + <p>"I have heard of you. You are Colwyn, the private detective."</p> + <p>"That makes it easier then, for you will know that I have no object in this case + except to bring the truth to light. If you have anything to say that will help me to + do that I beg of you to do so. You may safely trust me."</p> + <p>"I know that, Mr. Colwyn, but I have nothing to say." Ronald spoke + wearily—almost indifferently.</p> + <p>"Nothing?" Astonishment and disappointment were mingled in the detective's + voice.</p> + <p>"Nothing."</p> + <p>Before anything more could be said Queensmead reappeared from the inn with some + brandy in a glass. Ronald raised it to his lips with his manacled hands, then turned + away in response to an imperative gesture from Queensmead. Colwyn stood where he was + for a moment, watching them, then turned to enter the inn. As he did so, his eyes + fell upon the white face of Peggy, framed in the gathering gloom of the passage, + staring with frightened eyes at the retreating forms of the village constable<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> and his + prisoner. She slipped out of the door and took a few hurried steps in their + direction. But when she reached the strip of green which bordered the side of the inn + she stopped with a despairing gesture, as though realising the futility of her + effort, and turned to retrace her steps. Colwyn advanced rapidly towards her.</p> + <p>"I want to speak to you," he said curtly.</p> + <p>She stood still, but there was a prescient flash in her eyes as she looked at + him.</p> + <p>"You were in the dead man's room last night," he said. "What were you doing + there?"</p> + <p>"I do not know that it is any business of yours," she replied, in a low tone.</p> + <p>"I do not think you had better adopt that attitude," he said quietly. "You know + you had no right to go into that room. I do not wish to threaten you, but you had + better tell me the truth."</p> + <p>She stood silent for a moment, as though weighing his words. Then she said:</p> + <p>"I will tell you why I went there, not because I am afraid of anything you can do, + but because I am not afraid of the truth. I went there because of a promise I made to + Mr. Glenthorpe. He was very kind and good to me—when he was alive. Only two + days before he met his death he asked me, if anything happened to him at any time, to + go to his bedroom and remove a packet I would find in a little secret drawer in his + writing table, and destroy it without opening it. He showed me where the packet was, + and how to open the drawer. After he was dead I thought of my promise, and tried + several times to slip into the room and get the packet, but there was always somebody + about. So I went in last night, after everybody was in bed, because I thought the + police might find the packet in searching his desk, and I should<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> have been very + unhappy if I had not been able to keep my promise."</p> + <p>"How did you get into the room? The door was locked, and Superintendent Galloway + had the key."</p> + <p>"He left it on the mantelpiece downstairs. I saw it there earlier in the evening, + and when he was out of the room I slipped in and took it, and put the key of my own + room in its place. I replaced it next morning."</p> + <p>"What did you do with the packet you removed?"</p> + <p>"I took it across the marshes and threw it into the sea," she replied, looking + steadily into his face.</p> + <p>"Why did you go to that trouble? Why did you not burn it?"</p> + <p>"I had no fire, and I dared not keep it till the morning. Besides, there were + rings and things in the packet—his dead wife's jewellery. He told me so."</p> + <p>He looked at her keenly. She had told him the truth about her visit to the + breakwater, but how much of the rest of her story was true?</p> + <p>"So that is your explanation?" he said.</p> + <p>"Yes."</p> + <p>"I am sorry to say that I find it difficult to believe. If you are deceiving me + you are very foolish."</p> + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span></p> + <p>"I have told you the truth, Mr. Colwyn," she said, and, turning away, returned to + the inn.</p> + <hr style="width: 35%;" size="6" /> + <h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + <p>Ronald's strange silence after his arrest decided Colwyn to relinquish his + investigations and return to Durrington. His tacit admissions, coupled with the + damaging evidence against him, enforced conviction in the young man's guilt in spite + of the detective's previous belief to the contrary. In assisting Queensmead in his + search Colwyn had cherished the hope that Ronald, if captured, would declare his + innocence and gladly respond to his overture of help. But, instead of doing so, + Ronald had taken up an attitude which was suspicious in the highest degree, and one + which caused the detective to falter in his belief that the Glenthorpe murder case + was a much deeper mystery than the police imagined. Ronald's attitude, by its + accordance with the facts previously known or believed about the case, belittled the + detective's own discoveries, and caused him to come to the conclusion that it was + hardly worth while to go farther into it.</p> + <p>Nevertheless, it was in a perplexed and puzzled state of mind that he returned to + Durrington, and his perplexity was not lessened by a piece of information given to + him at luncheon by Sir Henry. The specialist started up from his seat as soon as he + saw the detective, and made his way across to his table.</p> + <p>"My dear fellow," he burst out, "I have the most amazing piece of news. Who do you + think this chap Ronald turns out to be? None other than James Ronald Penreath, only + son of Sir James Penreath—Penreath of Twelvetrees—one of the oldest + families in England, dat<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg + 150]</a></span>ing back before the Conquest! Not very much money, but very good + blood—none better in England, in fact. The family seat is in Berkshire, and the + family take their name from a village near Reading, where a battle was fought in 800 + odd between the Danes and Saxons under Ethelwulf. You won't get a much older ancestry + than <i>that</i>. Sir James married the daughter of Sir William Shirley, the member + for Carbury, Cheshire—her family was not so good as his, but an honourable + county family, nevertheless. This young man is their only child. A nice disgrace he's + brought on the family name, the foolish fellow!"</p> + <p>"Who told you this?" asked Colwyn.</p> + <p>"Superintendent Galloway told me last night. The description of the young man was + published in the London press in order to assist his capture, and it appears it was + seen by the young lady to whom he is affianced, Miss Constance Willoughby, who is at + present in London, engaged in war work. I have never met Miss Willoughby, but her + aunt, Mrs. Hugh Brewer, with whom she is living at Lancaster Gate, is well-known to + me. She is an immensely wealthy woman, who devotes her life to public works, and + moves in the most exclusive philanthropic circles. The young lady was terribly + distressed at the similarity of details in the description of the wanted man and that + of her betrothed, particularly the scar on the cheek. Although she could not believe + they referred to Mr. Penreath, she deemed it advisable to communicate with the + Penreath family solicitor, Mr. Oakham, of Oakham and Pendules.</p> + <p>"Mr. Oakham called up Superintendent Galloway on the trunk line yesterday, to make + inquiries, and shortly afterwards the news came through of Ronald's arrest. + Superintendent Galloway was rather perturbed at learn<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span>ing that the arrested man resembled + the description of the heir of one of the oldest baronetcies in England, and sought + me to ask my advice. As he rather vulgarly put it, he was scared at having flushed + such high game, and he thought, in view of my professional connection with some of + the highest families in the land, that I might be able to give him information which + would save him from the possibility of making a mistake—if such a possibility + existed."</p> + <p>"Superintendent Galloway did not seem much worried by any such fears the last time + I saw him," said Colwyn. "His one idea then was to catch Ronald and hang him as + speedily as possible."</p> + <p>"The case wears another aspect now," replied Sir Henry gravely, oblivious of the + irony in the detective's tones. "To arrest a nobody named Ronald is one thing, but to + arrest the son of Penreath of Twelvetrees is quite a different matter. The + police—quite rightly, in my opinion—wish to guard against the slightest + possibility of mistake."</p> + <p>"There is no certainty that Ronald is the son of Sir James Penreath," said Colwyn + thoughtfully. "Printed descriptions of people are very misleading."</p> + <p>"Exactly my contention," replied Sir Henry eagerly. "I told Galloway that the best + way to settle the point was to let the young lady see the prisoner. The police are + acting on the suggestion. Mr. Oakham is coming down with Miss Willoughby and her aunt + from London by the afternoon train. They will go straight to Heathfield, where they + will see Ronald before his removal to Norwich gaol. Superintendent Galloway is + driving over from here in a taxicab to meet them at the station and escort them to + the lock-up, and I am going with him. It is a frightful ordeal for two highly-strung + ladies to have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg + 152]</a></span> to undergo, and my professional skill may be needed to help them + through with it. I shall suggest that they return here with me afterwards, and stay + for the night at the hotel, instead of returning to London immediately. The night's + rest will serve to recuperate their systems after the worry and excitement."</p> + <p>"No doubt," said Colwyn, who began to see how Sir Henry Durwood had built up such + a flourishing practice as a ladies' specialist.</p> + <p>Sir Henry, having imparted his information, promised to acquaint him with the + result of the afternoon's interview, and bustled out of the breakfast room in + response to the imperious signalling of his wife's eye.</p> + <p>It was after dinner that evening, in the lounge, that Sir Henry again approached + Colwyn, smoking a cigar, which represented the amount of a medical man's fee in + certain London suburbs. But as Sir Henry counted his fees in guineas, and not in + half-crowns, he could afford to be luxurious in his smoking. He took a seat beside + the detective and, turning upon him his professionally portentous "all is over" face, + remarked:</p> + <p>"There is no mistake. Ronald is Sir James Penreath's son."</p> + <p>"Miss Willoughby identified him, then?"</p> + <p>"It was a case of mutual identification. Mr. Penreath, to give him his proper + name, was brought under escort into the room where we were seated. He started back at + the sight of Miss Willoughby—I suppose he had no idea whom he was going to + see—and said, 'Why, Constance!' The poor girl looked up at him and exclaimed, + 'Oh, James, how could you?' and burst into a flood of tears. It was a very painful + scene."</p> + <p>"I have no doubt it was—for all concerned," was Colwyn's dry comment. "Why + did Miss Willoughby greet<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg + 153]</a></span> her betrothed husband in that way, as though she were convinced of + his guilt? What does she know about the case?"</p> + <p>"Superintendent Galloway prepared her mind for the worst during the ride from the + station to the gaol. She asked him a number of questions, and he told her that there + was no doubt that the man she was going to see was the man who had murdered Mr. + Glenthorpe."</p> + <p>"I suspected as much. But what else transpired during the interview? How did + Penreath receive Miss Willoughby's remark?"</p> + <p>"Most peculiarly. He seemed about to speak, then checked himself with a half + smile, looked down on the ground, and said no more. Superintendent Galloway signed to + the policemen to remove him, and we withdrew. The interview did not last more than a + minute or so."</p> + <p>"Miss Willoughby did not see him alone, then?"</p> + <p>"No. Galloway told her that she would not be permitted to see him alone."</p> + <p>"And nothing more was said on either side while Penreath was in the room?"</p> + <p>"Nothing. Penreath's attitude struck me as that of a man who did not wish to + speak. He appeared self-conscious and confused, like a man with a secret to + hide."</p> + <p>"Perhaps his silence was due to pride. After Miss Willoughby's tactless remark he + may have thought there was no use saying anything when his sweetheart believed him + guilty." Colwyn spoke without conviction; the memory of Penreath's demeanour to him + after his arrest was too fresh in his mind.</p> + <p>"You wrong Miss Willoughby. She is only too anxious to catch at any straw of hope. + When she learnt that you had been making some investigations into the<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> case she + expressed an anxiety to see you. She and her aunt yielded to my advice, and returned + here to spend the night at the hotel before going back to London. As they did not + feel inclined to face the ordeal of public scrutiny after the events of the day they + are dining in private, and they have asked me to take you to their room when you are + at liberty. Mr. Oakham has gone to Norwich, where he will stay for some days to + prepare the defence of this unhappy young man, but he is coming here in the morning + to see the ladies before they depart for London. He asked me to tell you that he + would like to see you also."</p> + <p>"I shall be glad to see him, and Miss Willoughby as well. Have the ladies asked + you your opinion of the case?"</p> + <p>"Naturally they did. I gave them the best comfort I could by hinting that in my + opinion Mr. Penreath is not in a state of mind at present in which he can be held + responsible for his actions. I did not say anything about epilepsy—the word is + not a pleasant one to use before ladies."</p> + <p>"Did you tell them this in front of Galloway?"</p> + <p>"Certainly not. A professional man in my position cannot be too careful. I am glad + now that I was so circumspect about this matter in my dealings with the + police—very glad indeed. It was my duty to tell Mr. Oakham, and I did so. He + was interested in what I told him—exceedingly so, and was anxious to know if I + had given my opinion of Penreath's condition to anybody else. I mentioned that I had + told you—in confidence."</p> + <p>"And it was then, no doubt, that Mr. Oakham said he would like to see me. I fancy + I gather his drift. And now shall we visit Miss Willoughby?"</p> + <p>"Yes, I should say the ladies will be expecting us,"<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> said Sir Henry, looking at a fat + watch with jewelled hands which registered golden minutes for him in Harley Street. + He beckoned a waiter, and asked him to conduct them to Mrs. Brewer's sitting-room. + The waiter led them along a corridor on the first floor, tapped deferentially, opened + the door noiselessly in response to a feminine injunction to "come in," waited for + the gentlemen to enter, and then closed the door behind them.</p> + <p>Two ladies rose to greet them. One was small and overdressed, with fluffy hair and + China blue eyes. She carried some knitting in her hand, and a pet dog under her arm. + Colwyn had no difficulty in identifying her with the frequent photographs of Mrs. + Brewer which appeared in Society and illustrated papers. She belonged to a class of + women who took advantage of the war to advertise themselves by philanthropic + benefactions and war work, but she was able to distance most of her competitors for + newspaper notoriety by reason of her wealth. Her niece, Miss Constance Willoughby, + was of a different type. She was tall and graceful, with dark eyes and level brows. A + straight nose and a firm chin indicated that their possessor was not lacking in a + will of her own. Her manner was self-possessed and assured—a trifle too much so + for a sensitive girl in the circumstances, Colwyn thought. Then he remembered having + read in some paper that Miss Willoughby was one of the leaders of the new feminist + movement which believed that the war had brought about the complete emancipation of + English woman-hood, and with it the right to possess and display those qualities of + character which hitherto were supposed to be peculiarly masculine. It was perhaps + owing to her advocacy of these claims that Miss Willoughby felt herself called upon + to display self-possession and self-control at a trying time. Colwyn, appraising her + with his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> + clear eye as Sir Henry introduced him, found himself speculating as to the reasons + which had caused Penreath and her to fall in love with one another.</p> + <p>"Please sit down, Mr. Colwyn," said Mrs. Brewer, resuming a comfortable arm-chair + in front of the fire, and adjusting the Pekingese on her lap. "I am so grateful to + you for coming to see us in this unconventional way. I have been so anxious to see + you! Everybody has heard of you, Mr. Colwyn—you're so famous. It was only the + other day that I was reading a long article about you in some paper or other. I + forget the name of the paper, but I remember that it said a lot of flattering things + about you and your discoveries in crime. It said——Oh, you naughty, + naughty Jellicoe." This to the dog, which had become entangled in the skein of wool + on her lap, and was making frantic efforts to free itself. "Bad little doggie, you've + ruined this sock, and some poor soldier will have to go with bare feet because you've + been naughty! Are you a judge of Pekingese, Mr. Colwyn? Don't you think Jellicoe a + dear?"</p> + <p>"Do you mean Sir John Jellicoe, Mrs. Brewer?"</p> + <p>"Of course not! I mean my Pekingese. I've named him after our great gallant + commander, because it is through him we are all able to sleep safe and sound in our + beds these dreadful nights."</p> + <p>"Sir John Jellicoe ought to feel flattered," said Colwyn gravely.</p> + <p>"Yes, I really think he should," replied Mrs. Brewer innocently. "Jellicoe is not + a pretty name for a dog, but I think we should all be patriotic just now. But tell me + what you think of this dreadful case, Mr. Colwyn. I am so frightfully distressed + about it that I really don't know what to do. How could Mr. Penreath do such a + shocking thing? Why didn't he go back to the front, if<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> he had to kill somebody, instead of + hiding away from everybody and murdering this poor old man in this wild spot? Such a + disgrace to us all!"</p> + <p>"Mr. Penreath has been in the Army, then?" asked Colwyn.</p> + <p>"Of course. Didn't you know? He was in Mesopotamia, but was sent to the West Front + recently, where he won the D.S.O. for an act of great gallantry under heavy fire, but + was shortly afterwards invalided out of the Army. It was in all the papers at the + time."</p> + <p>"You forget, my dear lady, that Mr. Penreath did not disclose his full name while + he was staying here," interposed Sir Henry solemnly. "I myself was in complete + ignorance of his identity until last night."</p> + <p>"Why, of course—you told me this afternoon. My poor head! Whatever induced + Mr. Penreath to do such a thing as to conceal his name? So common and vulgar! What + motive could he have? What do you think his motive was, Mr. Colwyn?"</p> + <p>"I think, Aunt Florence, as your nerves are bad, that you had better permit me to + talk to Mr. Colwyn," said Miss Willoughby, speaking for the first time. "Otherwise we + shall get into a worse tangle than the Pekingese."</p> + <p>"I am sure I shall be only too relieved if you will talk to Mr. Colwyn," rejoined + the elder woman. "My head is really not equal to the task—my nerves are so + frightfully unstrung."</p> + <p>Mrs. Brewer returned to the task of untangling the dog from the knitting wool, and + the girl faced the detective earnestly.</p> + <p>"Mr. Colwyn," she said, "I understand you have been investigating this terrible + affair. Will you tell me what you think of it? Do you believe that Mr. Penreath is + guilty? You need not fear to be frank with me."<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span></p> + <p>"I will not hesitate to be so. I shall be pleased to give you my conclusions about + this case—so far as I have formed any—but I should be greatly obliged if + you would answer a few questions first. That might help me to clear up one or two + points on which I am at present in doubt, and make my statement to you clearer."</p> + <p>"Ask me any questions you wish."</p> + <p>"Thank you. In the first place, how long is it since Mr. Penreath returned from + the front, invalided out of the Army?"</p> + <p>"About two months ago."</p> + <p>"Was he wounded?"</p> + <p>"No. I understand that he broke down through shell-shock, and the doctors said + that it would be some time before he completely recovered. I do not know the details. + Mr. Penreath was very sensitive and reticent about the matter, and so I forbore + questioning him."</p> + <p>Colwyn nodded sympathetically.</p> + <p>"I understand. Have you noticed much difference in his demeanour since he returned + from the front?"</p> + <p>"That question is a little difficult to answer," said the girl, hesitating.</p> + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span></p> + <p>"I can quite understand how you feel about it. My motive in asking the question is + to see if we can ascertain why Penreath came to Norfolk under a concealed name, and + then wandered over to this place, Flegne, in an almost penniless condition, when he + had plenty of friends who would have supplied his needs, and, I should say, had money + of his own in the bank, for it is quite certain that he would be in receipt of an + allowance from his father. He acted most unusually for a young man of his standing + and position, and I am wondering if shell-shock left him in that restless, unsettled, + reckless condition which is one of its worst effects."</p> + <p>"I have seen so little of him since he returned from the front that it is + difficult for me to answer you," said the girl, after a pause. "He went down to + Berkshire to his father's place on his return, and stayed there a month. Then he came + to London, and we met several times, but rarely alone. I am very deeply engaged in + war work, and was unable to give him much of my time. When I did see him he struck me + as rather moody and distrait, but I put that down to his illness, and the fact that + he must naturally feel unhappy at his forced inaction. My friends paid him much + attention and sent him many invitations—in fact, they would have made quite a + fuss of him if he had let them—and, of course, he had friends of his own, but + he didn't seem to want to go anywhere, and he told me once or twice that he wished + people would let him alone. I pointed out to him that he had his duty to do in + Society as well as at the front, but he said he disliked Society, particularly in + war-time. About three weeks ago he told me one night at a dance that he was sick of + London, and thought he would be better for a change of air. He was looking rather + pale, and I agreed he would be the better for a change. I asked him where he intended + going, and he said he thought he would try the east coast—he didn't say what + part. He left me with the intention of going away the next day. That was the last I + saw of him—until to-day."</p> + <p>"You got no letter from him?"</p> + <p>"I did not hear from him—nor of him—until I saw his description + published in the London newspapers as that of a criminal wanted by the police."</p> + <p>Miss Willoughby uttered the last sentence in some bitterness, with a sparkle of + resentment in her eyes. It was apparent that she considered she had been badly + treated<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> by + her lover, and that his arrest had hardened, instead of softening, her feelings of + resentment.</p> + <p>"I am much obliged to you for answering my questions, Miss Willoughby," said the + detective. "As I told you before, they are not dictated by curiosity, but in the hope + of eliciting some information which would throw light on this puzzling case."</p> + <p>"A puzzling case! You consider it a puzzling case, Mr. Colwyn?" She glanced at him + with a more eager and girlish expression than he had yet seen on her face. "I + understood from the police officer that there was no room for doubt in the matter. + Sir Henry Durwood shares the police view." She turned a swift questioning glance in + the specialist's direction.</p> + <p>Sir Henry caught the glance, and felt it incumbent upon himself to utter a solemn + commonplace.</p> + <p>"I beg of you not to raise false hopes in Miss Willoughby's breast, Mr. Colwyn," + he said.</p> + <p>"I have no intention of doing so," returned the detective. "On the other hand, I + protest against everybody condemning Penreath until it is certain he is guilty. And + now, Miss Willoughby, I will tell you what I have discovered."</p> + <p>He entered upon a brief account of his investigations at the inn, with the + exception that he omitted the visit of Peggy to the murdered man's chamber and her + subsequent explanation. Miss Willoughby listened attentively, and, when he had + concluded, remarked:</p> + <p>"Do you think the wax and tallow candle-grease dropped in the room suggests the + presence of two persons?"</p> + <p>"I feel sure that it does."</p> + <p>"And who do you think the other was?"</p> + <p>"It is not yet proved that Penreath was one of them."<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span></p> + <p>She flushed under the implied reproof, and hurriedly added:</p> + <p>"Have you acquainted the police with your discoveries, Mr. Colwyn?"</p> + <p>"I have, and I am bound to say that they attach very little importance to + them."</p> + <p>"Do you propose to go any further with your investigations?"</p> + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span></p> + <p>"I would prefer not to answer that question until I have seen Mr. Oakham + to-morrow."</p> + <hr style="width: 35%;" size="6" /> + <h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + <p>When Colwyn went in to lunch the following day after a walk on the front, he found + Sir Henry awaiting him in the lounge with a visitor whose identity the detective + guessed before Sir Henry introduced him.</p> + <p>"This is Mr. Oakham," said Sir Henry. "I have told him of your investigation into + this painful case which has brought him to Norfolk."</p> + <p>"An investigation in which you helped," said Colwyn, with a smile.</p> + <p>"I am afraid it would be stretching the fable of the mouse and the lion to suggest + that I was able to help such a renowned criminal investigator as yourself," returned + Sir Henry waggishly. "When Mr. Oakham learnt that you had been investigating this + case he expressed a strong desire to see you."</p> + <p>"I am returning to London by the afternoon express, Mr. Colwyn," said the + solicitor. "I should be glad if you could spare me a little of your time before I + go."</p> + <p>"Certainly," replied Colwyn, courteously. "It had better be at once, had it not? + You have not very much time at your disposal."</p> + <p>"If it does not inconvenience you," replied Mr. Oakham politely. "But your + lunch——"</p> + <p>"That can wait," said the detective. "I feel deeply interested in this case of + young Penreath."</p> + <p>"Mr. Oakham saw him this morning before coming over," said Sir Henry. "He is quite + mad, and refuses to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg + 163]</a></span> say anything. Therefore, we have come to the + conclusion——"</p> + <p>"Really, Sir Henry, you shouldn't have said that." Mr. Oakham's tone was both + shocked and expostulatory.</p> + <p>"Why not?" retorted Sir Henry innocently. "Mr. Colwyn knows all about it—I + told him myself. I thought you wanted him to help you?"</p> + <p>"I am aware of that, but, my dear sir, this is an extremely delicate and difficult + business. As Mr. Penreath's professional adviser, I must beg of you to exercise more + reticence."</p> + <p>"Then I had better go and have my lunch while you two have a chat," said Sir Henry + urbanely, "or I shall only be putting my foot in it again. Mr. Oakham, I shall see + you before you go." Sir Henry moved off in the direction of the luncheon room.</p> + <p>"Perhaps you will come to my sitting-room," said Colwyn to Mr. Oakham. "We can + talk quietly there."</p> + <p>"Thank you," responded Mr. Oakham, and he went with the detective upstairs.</p> + <p>Mr. Oakham, of Oakham and Pendules, Temple Gardens, was a little white-haired man + of seventy, attired in the sombre black of the Victorian era, with a polished + reticent manner befitting the senior partner of a firm of solicitors owning the most + aristocratic practice in England; a firm so eminently respectable that they never + rendered a bill of costs to a client until he was dead, when the amount of legal + expenses incurred during his lifetime was treated as a charge upon the family estate, + and deducted from the moneys accruing to the next heir, who, in his turn, was allowed + to run his allotted course without a bill from Oakham and Pendules. They were a + discreet and dignified firm, as ancient as some of the names whose family secrets + were locked away in their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg + 164]</a></span> office deed boxes, and were reputed to know more of the inner history + of the gentry in Burke's Peerage than all the rest of the legal profession put + together.</p> + <p>The arrest of the only son of Sir James Penreath, of Twelvetrees, Berks, on a + charge of murder, had shocked Mr. Oakham deeply. Divorces had come his way in plenty, + though he remembered the day when they were considered scandalous in good families. + But the modern generation had changed all that, and Mr. Oakham had since listened to + so many stories of marital wrongs, and had assisted in obtaining so many orders for + restitution of conjugal rights, that he had come to regard divorce as fashionable + enough to be respectable. He was intimately versed in most human failings and + follies, and a past master in preventing their consequences coming to light. + Financial embarrassments he was well used to—they might almost be said to be + his forte—for many of his clients had more lineage than money, but the crime of + murder was a thing outside his professional experience.</p> + <p>The upper classes of the present generation had, in this respect at least, + improved on the morals of their freebooting ancestors, and murder had gone so + completely out of fashion among the aristocracy that Mr. Oakham had never been called + upon to prepare the defence of a client charged with killing a fellow creature. Mr. + Oakham regarded murder as an ungentlemanly crime. He believed that no gentleman would + commit murder unless he were mad. Since his arrival in Norfolk he had come to the + conclusion that young Penreath was not only mad, but that he had committed the murder + with which he stood charged. Sir Henry Durwood had been responsible for the first + opinion, and the police had helped him to form the second. Two interviews he had<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> had with his + client since his arrest had strengthened and deepened both convictions.</p> + <p>It was in this frame of mind that Mr. Oakham seated himself in the detective's + sitting room. He accepted a cigar from Colwyn's case, and looked amiably at his + companion, who waited for him to speak. The interview had been of the solicitor's + seeking, and it was for him to disclose his object in doing so.</p> + <p>"This is a very unfortunate case, Mr. Colwyn," the solicitor remarked.</p> + <p>"Yes; it seems so," replied Colwyn.</p> + <p>"I am afraid there is not the slightest doubt that this unhappy young man has + committed this murder."</p> + <p>"You have arrived at that conclusion?"</p> + <p>"It is impossible to arrive at any other conclusion, in view of the evidence."</p> + <p>"It is purely circumstantial. I thought that perhaps Penreath would have some + statement to make which would throw a different light on the case."</p> + <p>"I will be frank with you, Mr. Colwyn," said the solicitor. "You are acquainted + with all the facts of the case, and I hope you will be able to help us. Penreath's + attitude is a very strange one. Apparently he does not apprehend the grave position + in which he stands. I am forced to the conclusion that he is suffering from an + unhappy aberration of the intellect, which has led to his committing this crime. His + conduct since coming to Norfolk has not been that of a sane man. He has hidden + himself away from his friends, and stayed here under a false name. I understand that + he behaved in an eccentric and violent way in the breakfast room of this hotel on the + morning of the day he left for the place where the murder was subsequently + committed."</p> + <p>"You have learnt this from Sir Henry, I presume?"<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span></p> + <p>"Yes. Sir Henry has conveyed to me his opinion, based on his observation of Mr. + Penreath's eccentricity at the breakfast table the last morning of his stay here, + that Mr. Penreath is an epileptic, liable to attacks of <i>furor + epilepticus</i>—a phase of the disease which sometimes leads to outbreaks of + terrible violence. He thought it advisable that I should know this at once, in view + of what has happened since. Sir Henry informed me that he confided a similar opinion + to you, as you were present at the time, and assisted him to convey Penreath + upstairs. May I ask what opinion you formed of his behaviour at the breakfast table, + Mr. Colwyn?"</p> + <p>"I thought he was excited—nothing more."</p> + <p>"But the violence, Mr. Colwyn! Sir Henry Durwood says Penreath was about to commit + a violent assault on the people at the next table when he interfered."</p> + <p>"The violence was not apparent—to me," returned the detective, who did not + feel called upon to disclose his secret belief that Sir Henry had acted hastily. + "Apart from the excitement he displayed on this particular morning, Penreath seemed + to me a normal and average young Englishman of his class. I certainly saw no signs of + insanity about him. It occurred to me at the time that his excitement might be the + outcome of shell-shock. We had had an air raid two nights before, and some + shell-shock cases are badly affected by air raids. I have since been informed that + Penreath was invalided out of the Army recently, suffering from shell-shock."</p> + <p>"In Sir Henry's opinion the shell-shock has aggravated a tendency to the + disease."</p> + <p>"Has Penreath ever shown any previous signs of epilepsy?"</p> + <p>"Not so far as I am aware, but his mother developed the disease in later years, + and ultimately died from it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" + id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> Her illness was a source of great worry and anxiety + to Sir James. And epilepsy is hereditary."</p> + <p>"Pathologists differ on that point. I know something of the disease, and I doubt + whether Penreath is an epileptic. He showed none of the symptoms which I have always + associated with epilepsy."</p> + <p>"An eminent specialist like Sir Henry is hardly likely to be mistaken. The fact + that Penreath seemed a sane and collected individual to your eye proves nothing. + Epileptic attacks are intermittent, and the sufferer may appear quite sane between + the attacks. Epilepsy is a remarkable disease. A latent tendency to it may exist for + years without those nearest and dearest to the sufferer suspecting it, so Sir Henry + says. Penreath's case is a very strange and sad one."</p> + <p>"It is a strange case in very way," said Colwyn earnestly. "Why should a young man + like Penreath go over to this remote Norfolk village, where he had not been before, + and murder an old man whom he had never seen previously? The police theory that this + murder was committed for the sake of £300 which the victim had drawn out of the + bank that day seems incredible to me, in the case of a young man like Penreath."</p> + <p>"The only way of accounting for the whole unhappy business is on Sir Henry's + hypothesis that Penreath is mad. In acute epileptic mania there are cases in which + there is a seeming calmness of conduct, and these are the most dangerous of all. The + patient walks about like a man in a dream, impelled by a force which he cannot + resist, and does all sorts of things without conscious purpose. He will take long + walks to places he has never been, will steal money or valuables, and commit murder + or suicide with apparent coolness and cunning. Sir Henry describes this as automatic + action, and he says<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg + 168]</a></span> that it is a notable characteristic of the form of epileptic mania + from which Penreath is suffering. You will observe that these symptoms fit in with + all the facts of the case against Penreath. The facts, unfortunately, are so clear + that there is no gainsaying them."</p> + <p>"It seems so now," said Colwyn thoughtfully. "Yet, when I was investigating the + facts at the time, I came across several points which seemed to suggest the + possibility of an alternative theory to the police theory."</p> + <p>"I should like to know what those points are."</p> + <p>"I will tell you."</p> + <p>The detective proceeded to set forth the result of his visit to the inn, and the + solicitor listened to him with close attention. When he had finished Mr. Oakham + remarked:</p> + <p>"I am afraid there is not much in these points, Mr. Colwyn. Your suggestion that + there were two persons in the murdered man's room is interesting, but you have no + evidence to support it. The girl's explanation of her visit to the room is probably + the true one. Far be it from me, as Penreath's legal adviser, to throw away the + slightest straw of hope, but your conjectures—for, to my mind, they are nothing + more—are nothing against the array of facts and suspicious circumstances which + have been collected by the police. And even if the police case were less strong, + there is another grave fact which we cannot overlook."</p> + <p>"You mean that Penreath refuses to say anything?" said Colwyn.</p> + <p>"He appears to be somewhat indifferent to the outcome," returned the lawyer + guardedly.</p> + <p>"It is his silence which baffles me," said Colwyn. "I saw him alone after his + arrest, and told him I was willing to help him if he could tell me anything which + would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> + assist me to establish his innocence—if he were innocent. He replied that he + had nothing to say."</p> + <p>"What you tell me deepens my conviction that Penreath does not realise the + position in which he is placed, and cannot be held accountable for his actions."</p> + <p>"Is it your intention to plead mental incapacity at the trial?"</p> + <p>"Sir Henry Durwood has offered to give evidence that, in his opinion, Penreath is + not responsible for his actions. The Penreath family is under a debt of gratitude to + Sir Henry. I consider it little short of providential that Sir Henry was staying here + at the time." Like most lawyers, Mr. Oakham had a firm belief in the interposition of + Providence—particularly in the affairs of the families of the great. "And that + is the reason for my coming over here to see you this morning, Mr. Colwyn. You were + present at the breakfast table scene—you witnessed this young man's + eccentricity and violence. The Penreath family is already under a debt of gratitude + to you—will you increase the obligation? In other words, will you give evidence + in support of the defence at the trial?"</p> + <p>"You want me to assist you in convincing the jury that Penreath is a criminal + lunatic," said Colwyn. "That is what your defence amounts to. It is a grave + responsibility. Doctors and specialists are sometimes mistaken, you know."</p> + <p>"I am afraid there is very little doubt in this case. Here is a young man of birth + and breeding, who hides from his friends under an assumed name, behaves in public in + an eccentric manner, is turned out of his hotel, goes to a remote inn, and disappears + before anybody is up. The body of a gentleman who occupied the room next to him is + subsequently discovered in a pit close by, and the footprints leading to the pit are + those of our<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg + 170]</a></span> young friend. The young man is subsequently arrested close to the + place where the body was thrown, and not then, or since, has he offered his friends + any explanation of his actions. In the circumstances, therefore, I shall avail myself + of Sir Henry's evidence. In my own mind—from my own observation and + conversation with Penreath—I am convinced that he cannot be held responsible + for his actions. In view of the tremendously strong case against him, in view of his + peculiar attitude to you—and others—in the face of accusation, and in + view of his previous eccentric behaviour, I shall take the only possible course to + save the son of Penreath of Twelvetrees from the gallows. I had hoped, Mr. Colwyn, + that you, who witnessed the scene at this hotel, and subsequently helped Sir Henry + Durwood convey this unhappy young man upstairs, would see your way clear to support + Sir Henry's expert opinion that this young man is insane. Your reputation and renown + would carry weight with the jury."</p> + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span></p> + <p>"I am sorry, but I am afraid you must do without me," replied Colwyn. "In view of + Penreath's silence I can come to no other conclusion, though against my better + judgment, than that he is guilty, but I cannot take upon myself the responsibility of + declaring that he is insane. In spite of Sir Henry Durwood's opinion, I cannot + believe that he is, or was. It will be a difficult defence to establish in the case + of Penreath. If you wish the jury to say that Penreath is the victim of what French + writers call <i>epilepsie larvée</i>, in which an outbreak of brutal or + homicidal violence takes the place of an epileptic fit, with a similar break in the + continuity of consciousness, you will first have to convince the judge that + Penreath's preceding fits were so slight as to permit the possibility of their being + overlooked, and you will also<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" + id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> have to establish beyond doubt that the break in + his consciousness existed from the time of the scene in the hotel breakfast-room + until the time the murder was committed. The test of that state is the unintelligent + character of some of the acts of the sufferer. In my opinion, a defence of insanity + is not likely to be successful. Personally, I shall go no further in the case, but I + cannot give up my original opinion that the whole of the facts in this case have not + been brought to light. Probably they never will be—now."</p> + <hr style="width: 35%;" size="6" /> + <h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2> + <p>Although no hint of the defence was supposed to transpire, the magic words "No + precedent" were whispered about in legal circles as the day for Penreath's trial + approached, and invested the case with more than ordinary interest in professional + eyes. Editors of London legal journals endeavoured to extract something definite from + Mr. Oakham when he returned to London to brief counsel and prepare the defence, but + the lunches they lavished on him in pursuit of information might have been spent with + equal profit on the Sphinx.</p> + <p>The editors had to content themselves with sending shorthand writers to Norwich to + report the case fully for the benefit of their circle of readers, whose appetite for + a legal quibble was never satiated by repetition.</p> + <p>On the other hand, the case aroused but languid interest in the breasts of the + ordinary public. The newspapers had not given the story of the murder much prominence + in their columns, because murders were only good copy in war-time in the slack season + between military offensives, and, moreover, this particular case lacked the + essentials of what modern editors call, in American journalese jargon, "a good + feature story." In other words, it was not sufficiently sensational or immoral to + appeal to the palates of newspaper readers. It lacked the spectacular elements of a + filmed drama; there was no woman in the case or unwritten law.</p> + <p>It was true that the revelation of the identity of the accused man had aroused a + passing interest in the case,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" + id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> bringing it up from paragraph value on the back + page to a "two-heading item" on the "splash" page, but that interest soon died away, + for, after all, the son of a Berkshire baronet was small beer in war's levelling + days, when peers worked in overalls in munition factories, and personages of even + more exalted rank sold pennyworths of ham in East-end communal kitchens.</p> + <p>Nevertheless, because of the perennial interest which attaches to all murder + trials, the Norwich Assizes Court was filled with spectators on the dull drizzling + November day when the case was heard, and the fact that the accused was young and + good-looking and of gentle birth probably accounted for the sprinkling of + well-dressed women amongst the audience. The younger ones eyed him with sympathy as + he was brought into the dock: his good looks, his blue eyes, his air of breeding, his + well-cut clothes, appealed to their sensibilities, and if they had been given the + opportunity they would have acquitted him without the formality of a trial as far + "too nice a boy" to have committed murder.</p> + <p>To the array of legal talent assembled together by the golden wand of Costs the + figure of the accused man had no personal significance but the actual facts at issue + entered as little into their minds as into the pitying hearts of the female + spectators. The accused had no individual existence so far as they were concerned: he + was merely a pawn in the great legal game, of which the lawyers were the players and + the judge the referee, and the side which won the pawn won the game. As this + particular game represented an attack on the sacred tradition of Precedent, both + sides had secured the strongest professional intellects possible to contest the + match, and the lesser legal fry of Norwich had gathered together to witness the + struggle, and pick up what points they could.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" + id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span></p> + <p>The leader for the prosecution was Sir Herbert Templewood, K.C., M.P., a political + barrister, with a Society wife, a polished manner, and a deadly gift of + cross-examination. With him was Mr. Grover Braecroft, a dour Scotch lawyer of + fifty-five, who was currently believed to know the law from A to Z, and really had an + intimate acquaintance with those five letters which made up the magic word Costs. + Apart from this valuable knowledge, he was a cunning and crafty lawyer, picked in the + present case to supply the brains to Sir Herbert Templewood's brilliance, and do the + jackal work which the lion disdained. The pair were supported by a Crown Solicitor + well versed in precedents—a little prim figure of a man who sat with so many + volumes of judicial decisions and reports of test cases piled in front of him that + only the upper portion of his grey head was visible above the books.</p> + <p>The defence relied mainly upon Mr. Reginald Middleheath, the eminent criminal + counsel, who depended as much upon his portly imposing stage presence to bluff juries + into an acquittal as upon his legal attainments, which were also considerable. Mr. + Middleheath's cardinal article of legal faith was that all juries were fools, and + should be treated as such, because if they once got the idea into their heads that + they knew something about the case they were trying they were bound to convict in + order to sustain their reputation for intelligence. One of Mr. Middleheath's + favourite tricks for disabusing a jury of the belief that they possessed any common + sense was, before addressing them, to stare each juryman in the face for half a + minute or so in turn with his piercing penetrative eyes, accompanying the look with a + pitying contemptuous smile, the gaze and the smile implying that counsel for the + opposite side may have flattered them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" + id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> into believing that their intelligences were fit to + try such an intricate case, but they couldn't deceive <i>him</i>.</p> + <p>Having robbed the jury of their self-esteem by this means, Mr. Middleheath would + proceed to put them on good terms with themselves again by insinuating in persuasive + tones that the case was one calculated to perplex the most astute legal brain. He + would frankly confess that it had perplexed him at first, but as he had mastered its + intricacies the jury were welcome to his laboriously acquired knowledge in order to + help them in arriving at a right decision. Mr. Middleheath's junior was Mr. Garden + Greyson, a thin ascetic looking lawyer whose knowledge of medical jurisprudence had + brought him his brief in the case. Mr. Oakham sat beside Mr. Greyson with various big + books in front of him.</p> + <p>The judge was Mr. Justice Redington, whose presence on the bench was always + considered a strengthening factor in the Crown case. Judges differ as much as + ordinary human beings, and are as human in their peculiarities as the juries they + direct and the prisoners they try. There are good-tempered and bad-tempered judges, + harsh and tender judges, learned and foolish judges, there are even judges with an + eye to self-advertisement, and a few wise ones. Mr. Justice Redington belonged to + that class of judges who, while endeavouring to hold the balance fairly between the + Crown and the defence, see to it that the accused does not get overweight from the + scales of justice. Such judges take advantage of their judicial office by + cross-examining witnesses for the defence after the Crown Prosecutor has finished + with them, in the effort to bring to light some damaging fact or contradiction which + the previous examination has failed to elicit. In other respects, Mr. Justice + Redington was a very fair judge, and he worked as industriously as any<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> newspaper + reporter, taking extensive notes of all his cases with a gold fountain pen, which he + filled himself from one of the court inkstands whenever it ran dry. In appearance he + was a florid and pleasant looking man, and his hobby off the bench was farming his + own land and breeding prize cattle.</p> + <p>There were the usual preliminaries, equivalent to the clearing of the course or + the placing of the pieces, which bored the regular habitués of the court but + whetted the appetites of the more unsophisticated spectators. First there was the + lengthy process of empanelling a jury, with the inevitable accompaniment of + challenges and objections, until the most unintelligent looking dozen of the panel + finally found themselves in the jury box. Then the Clerk of Arraigns gabbled over the + charges: wilful murder of Roger Glenthorpe on 26th October, 1916, and feloniously + stealing from the said Roger Glenthorpe the sum of £300 on the same date. To + these charges the accused man pleaded "Not guilty" in a low voice. The jury were + directed on the first indictment only, and Sir Herbert Templewood got up to address + the jury.</p> + <p>Sir Herbert knew very little about the case, but his junior was well informed; and + what Mr. Braecroft didn't know he got from the Crown Solicitor, who sat behind the + barristers' table, ready to lean forward at the slightest indication and supply any + points which were required. Under this system of spoon-feeding Sir Herbert ambled + comfortably along, reserving his showy paces for the cross-examination of witnesses + for the defence.</p> + <p>Sir Herbert commenced by describing the case as a straightforward one which would + offer no difficulty to an intelligent jury. It was true that it rested on + circumstantial evidence, but that evidence was of the strongest<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> nature, and + pointed so clearly in the one direction, that the jury could come to no other + conclusion than that the prisoner at the bar had committed the murder with which he + stood charged.</p> + <p>With this preamble, the Crown Prosecutor proceeded to put together the chain of + circumstantial evidence against the accused with the deliberate logic of the legal + brain, piecing together incidents, interpreting clues, probing motives, and + fashioning together the whole tremendous apparatus of circumstantial evidence with + the intent air of a man building an unbreakable cage for a wild beast. As Colwyn had + anticipated, the incident at the Durrington hotel had been dropped from the Crown + case. That part of the presentment was confined to the statement that Penreath had + registered at the hotel under a wrong name, and had left without paying his bill. The + first fact suggested that the accused had something to hide, the second established a + motive for the subsequent murder.</p> + <p>Sir Herbert Templewood concluded his address in less than an hour, and proceeded + to call evidence for the prosecution. There were nine witnesses: that strangely + assorted pair, the innkeeper and Charles, the deaf waiter, Ann, the servant, the two + men who had recovered Mr. Glenthorpe's body from the pit, the Heathfield doctor, who + testified as to the cause of death, Superintendent Galloway, who gave the court the + result of the joint investigations of the chief constable and himself at the inn, + Police-Constable Queensmead, who described the arrest and Inspector Fredericks, of + Norwich, who was in charge of the Norwich station when the accused was taken there + from Flegne. In order to save another witness being called, Counsel for the defence + admitted that accused had registered at the Grand Hotel, Durrington,<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> under a wrong + name, and left without paying his bill.</p> + <p>Mr. Middleheath cross-examined none of the witnesses for the prosecution except + the last one, and his forensic restraint was placed on record by the depositions + clerk in the exact words of the unvarying formula between bench and bar. "Do you ask + anything, Mr. Middleheath?" Mr. Justice Redington would ask, with punctilious + politeness, when the Crown Prosecutor sat down after examining a witness. To which + Mr. Middleheath would reply, in tones of equal courtesy: "I ask nothing, my lord." + Counsel's cross-examination of Inspector Fredericks consisted of two questions, + intended to throw light on the accused's state of mind after his arrest. Inspector + Fredericks declared that he was, in his opinion, quite calm and rational.</p> + <p>Mr. Middleheath's opening address to the jury for the defence was brief, and, to + sharp legal ears, vague and unconvincing. Although he pointed out that the evidence + was purely circumstantial, and that in the absence of direct testimony the accused + was entitled to the benefit of any reasonable doubt, he did not attempt to controvert + the statements of the Crown witnesses, or suggest that the Crown had not established + its case. His address, combined with the fact that he had not cross-examined any of + the Crown witnesses, suggested to the listening lawyers that he had either a very + strong defence or none at all. The point was left in suspense for the time being by + Mr. Justice Redington suggesting that, in view of the lateness of the hour, Counsel + should defer calling evidence for the defence until the following day. As a judicial + suggestion is a command, the court was adjourned accordingly, the judge first warning + the jury not to try to come to any conclusion, or form an opinion as<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> to what their + verdict should be, until they had heard the evidence for the prisoner.</p> + <p>When the case was continued the next day, the first witness called for the defence + was Dr. Robert Greydon, an elderly country practitioner with the precise professional + manner of a past medical generation, who stated that he practised at Twelvetrees, + Berkshire, and was the family doctor of the Penreath family. In reply to Mr. + Middleheath he stated that he had frequently attended the late Lady Penreath, the + mother of the accused, for fits or seizures from which she suffered periodically, and + that the London specialist who had been called into consultation on one occasion had + agreed with him that the seizures were epileptic.</p> + <p>"I want to give every latitude to the defence," said Sir Herbert Templewood, + rising in dignified protest, "but I am afraid I cannot permit this conversation to go + in. My learned friend must call the London specialist if he wants to get it in."</p> + <p>"I will waive the point as my learned friend objects," said Mr. Middleheath, + satisfied that he had "got it in" the jury's ears, "and content myself with asking + Dr. Greydon whether, from his own knowledge, Lady Penreath suffered from + epilepsy."</p> + <p>"Undoubtedly," replied the witness.</p> + <p>"One moment," said the judge, looking up from his notes. "Where is this evidence + tending, Mr. Middleheath?"</p> + <p>"My lord," replied Mr. Middleheath solemnly, "I wish the court to know all the + facts on which we rely."</p> + <p>The judge bowed his head and waved his gold fountain-pen as an indication that the + examination might proceed. The witness said that Lady Penreath was un<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span>doubtedly an + epileptic, and suffered from attacks extending over twenty years, commencing when her + only son was five years old, and continuing till her death ten years ago. For some + years the attacks were slight, without convulsions, but ultimately the grand mal + became well developed, and several attacks in rapid succession ultimately caused her + death. In the witness's opinion epilepsy was an hereditary disease, frequently + transmitted to the offspring, if either or both parents suffered from it.</p> + <p>"Have you ever seen any signs of epilepsy in Lady Penreath's son—the + prisoner at the bar?" asked Sir Herbert, who began to divine the direction of the + defence.</p> + <p>"Never," replied the witness.</p> + <p>"Was he under your care in his infancy and boyhood? I mean were you called in to + attend to his youthful ailments?"</p> + <p>"Yes, until he went to school."</p> + <p>"And was he a normal and healthy boy?"</p> + <p>"Quite."</p> + <p>"Did you see him when he returned home recently?" asked Mr. Middleheath, rising to + re-examine.</p> + <p>"Yes."</p> + <p>"You are aware he was discharged from the Army suffering from shell-shock?"</p> + <p>"Yes."</p> + <p>"And did you notice a marked change in him?"</p> + <p>"Very marked indeed. He struck me as odd and forgetful at times, and sometimes he + seemed momentarily to lose touch with his surroundings. He used to be very bright and + good-tempered, but he returned from the war irritable and moody, and very silent, + disliking, above all things, to be questioned about his experiences at the<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> front. He used + to be the very soul of courtesy, but when he returned from the front he refused to + attend a 'welcome home' at the village church and hear the vicar read a + congratulatory address."</p> + <p>"I hope you are not going to advance the latter incident as a proof of <i>non + compos mentis</i>, Mr. Middleheath," said the judge facetiously.</p> + <p>In the ripples of mirth which this judicial sally aroused, the little doctor was + permitted to leave the box, and depart for his native obscurity of Twelvetrees. He + had served his purpose, so far as Mr. Middleheath was concerned, and Sir Herbert + Templewood was too good a sportsman to waste skilful flies on such a small fish, + which would do no honour to his bag if hooked.</p> + <p>Sir Herbert Templewood and every lawyer in court were by now aware that the + defence were unable to meet the Crown case, but were going to fight for a verdict of + insanity. The legal fraternity realised the difficulties of that defence in a case of + murder. It would be necessary not only to convince the jury that the accused did not + know the difference between right and wrong, but to convince the judge, in the finer + legal interpretation of criminal insanity, that the accused did not know the nature + of the act he was charged with committing, in the sense that he was unable to + distinguish whether it was right or wrong at the moment of committing it. The law, + which assumes that a man is sane and responsible for his acts, throws upon the + defence the onus of proving otherwise, and proving it up to the hilt, before it + permits an accused person to escape the responsibility of his acts. Such a defence + usually resolves itself into a battle between medical experts and the counsel + engaged, the Crown endeavouring to upset the medical evidence for the defence with + medical evidence in rebuttal.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" + id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span></p> + <p>The lawyers in court settled back with a new enjoyment at the prospect of the + legal and medical hair-splitting and quibbling which invariably accompanies an + encounter of this kind, and Crown Counsel and solicitors displayed sudden activity. + Sir Herbert Templewood and Mr. Braecroft held a whispered consultation, and then Mr. + Braecroft passed a note to the Crown Solicitor, who hurried from the court and + presently returned carrying a formidable pile of dusty volumes, which he placed in + front of junior counsel. The most uninterested person in court seemed the man in the + dock, who sat looking into a vacancy with a bored expression on his handsome face, as + if he were indifferent to the fight on which his existence depended.</p> + <p>The next witness was Miss Constance Willoughby, who gave her testimony in low + clear tones, and with perfect self-possession. It was observed by the feminine + element in court that she did not look at her lover in the dock, but kept her eyes + steadily fixed on Mr. Middleheath. Her story was a straightforward and simple one. + She had become engaged to Mr. Penreath shortly before the war, and had seen him + several times since he was invalided out of the Army. The last occasion was a month + ago, when he called at her aunt's house at Lancaster Gate. She had noticed a great + change in him since his return from the front. He was moody and depressed. She did + not question him about his illness, as she thought he was out of spirits because he + had been invalided out of the Army, and did not want to talk about it. He told her he + intended to go away for a change until he got right again—he had not made up + his mind where, but he thought somewhere on the East Coast, where it was cool and + bracing, would suit him best—and he would write to her as soon as he got + settled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> + anywhere. She did not see him again, and did not hear from him or know anything of + his movements till she read his description in a London paper as that of a man wanted + by the Norfolk police for murder. Her aunt, who showed her the paper, communicated + with the Penreaths' solicitor, Mr. Oakham. The following day she and her aunt were + taken to Heathfield and identified the accused.</p> + <p>"Your aunt took action to allay your anxiety, I understand?" said Mr. Heathfield, + whose watchful eye had noted the unfavourable effect of this statement on the + jury.</p> + <p>The witness bowed.</p> + <p>"Yes," she replied. "I was terribly anxious, as I had not heard from Mr. Penreath + since he went away. Anything was better than the suspense."</p> + <p>"You say accused was moody and depressed when you saw him?" asked Sir Herbert + Templewood.</p> + <p>"Yes."</p> + <p>"May I take it that there was nothing terrifying in his behaviour—nothing to + indicate that he was not in his right mind?"</p> + <p>"No," replied the witness slowly. "He did not frighten me, but I was concerned + about him. He certainly looked ill, and I thought he seemed a little strange."</p> + <p>"As though he had something on his mind?" suggested Sir Herbert.</p> + <p>"Yes," assented the witness.</p> + <p>"Were you aware that the accused, when he went to see you at your aunt's home + before he departed for Norfolk, was very short of money?"</p> + <p>"I was not. If I had known——"</p> + <p>"You would have helped him—is that what you were<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> going to say?" asked Mr. + Middleheath, as Sir Herbert resumed his seat without pursuing the point.</p> + <p>"My aunt would have helped Mr. Penreath if she had known he was in monetary + difficulties."</p> + <p>"Thank you." Mr. Middleheath sat down, pulling his gown over his shoulders.</p> + <p>The witness was leaving the stand when the sharp authoritative voice of the judge + stopped her.</p> + <p>"Wait a minute, please, I want to get this a little clearer. You said you were + aware that the accused was discharged from the Army suffering from shell-shock. Did + he tell you so himself?"</p> + <p>"No, my lord. I was informed so."</p> + <p>"Really, Mr. Middleheath——"</p> + <p>The judge's glance at Counsel for the Defence was so judicial that it brought Mr. + Middleheath hurriedly to his feet again.</p> + <p>"My lord," he explained, "I intend to prove in due course that the prisoner was + invalided out of the Army suffering from shell-shock."</p> + <p>"Very well." The judge motioned to the witness that she was at liberty to leave + the box.</p> + <p>The appearance of Sir Henry Durwood in the box as the next witness indicated to + Crown Counsel that the principal card for the defence was about to be played. Lawyers + conduct defences as some people play bridge—they keep the biggest trump to the + last. Sir Henry represented the highest trump in Mr. Middleheath's hand, and if he + could not score with him the game was lost.</p> + <p>Sir Henry seemed not unconscious of his importance to the case as he stepped into + the stand and bowed to the judge with bland professional equality. His + evidence-in-chief was short, but to the point, and amounted to a recapitulation of + the statement he had made to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" + id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> Colwyn in Penreath's bedroom on the morning of the + episode in the breakfast-room of the Grand Hotel, Durrington. Sir Henry related the + events of that morning for the benefit of the jury, and in sonorous tones expressed + his professional opinion that the accused's strange behaviour on that occasion was + the result of an attack of epilepsy—petit mal, combined with <i>furor + epilepticus</i>.</p> + <p>The witness defined epilepsy as a disease of the nervous system, marked by attacks + of unconsciousness, with or without convulsions. The loss of consciousness with + severe convulsive seizures was known as grand mal, the transient loss of + consciousness without convulsive seizures was called petit mal. Attacks of petit mal + might come on at any time, and were usually accompanied by a feeling of faintness and + vertigo. The general symptoms were sudden jerkings of the limbs, sudden tremors, + giddiness and unconsciousness. The eyes became fixed, the face slightly pale, + sometimes very red, and there was frequently some almost automatic action. In grand + mal there was always warning of an attack, in petit mal there was no warning as a + rule, but sometimes there was premonitory giddiness and restlessness. <i>Furor + epilepticus</i> was a medical term applied to the violence displayed during attacks + of petit mal, a violence which was much greater than extreme anger, and under its + influence the subject was capable of committing the most violent outrages, even + murder, without being conscious of the act.</p> + <p>"There is no doubt in your mind that the accused man had an attack of petit mal in + the breakfast-room of the Durrington hotel the morning before the murder?" asked Mr. + Middleheath.</p> + <p>"None whatever. All the symptoms pointed to it. He was sitting at the breakfast + table when he suddenly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg + 186]</a></span> ceased eating, and his eyes grew fixed. The knife which he held in + his hand was dropped, but as the attack increased he picked it up again and thrust it + into the table in front of him—a purely automatic action, in my opinion. When + he sprang up from the table a little while afterwards he was under the influence of + the epileptic fury, and would have made a violent attack on the people sitting at the + next table if I had not seized him. Unconsciousness then supervened, and, with the + aid of another of the hotel guests, I carried him to his room. It was there I noticed + foam on his lips. When he returned to consciousness he had no recollection of what + had occurred, which is consistent with an epileptic seizure. I saw that his condition + was dangerous, and urged him to send for his friends, but he refused to do so."</p> + <p>"It would have been better if he had followed your advice. You say it is + consistent with epilepsy for him to have no recollection of what occurred during this + seizure in the hotel breakfast room. What would a man's condition of mind be if, + during an attack of petit mal, he committed an act of violence, say murder, for + example?"</p> + <p>"The mind is generally a complete blank. Sometimes there is a confused sense of + something, but the patient has no recollection of what has occurred, in my + experience."</p> + <p>"In this case the prisoner is charged with murder. Could he have committed this + offence during another attack of <i>furor epilepticus</i> and recollect nothing about + it afterwards? Is that consistent?"</p> + <p>"Yes, quite consistent," replied the witness.</p> + <p>"Is epilepsy an hereditary disease?"</p> + <p>"Yes."</p> + <p>"And if both parents, or one of them, suffered from<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> epilepsy, would there be a great + risk of the children suffering from it?"</p> + <p>"Every risk in the case of both persons being affected; some probability in the + case of one."</p> + <p>"What do you think would be the effect of shell-shock on a person born of one + epileptic parent?"</p> + <p>"It would probably aggravate a tendency to epilepsy, by lowering the general + health."</p> + <p>"Thank you, Sir Henry."</p> + <p>Mr. Middleheath resumed his seat, and Sir Herbert Templewood got up to + cross-examine.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg + 188]</a></span></p> + <hr style="width: 35%;" size="6" /> + <h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + <p>Sir Herbert Templewood did not believe the evidence of the specialist, and he did + not think the witness believed it himself. Sir Herbert did not think any the worse of + the witness on that account. It was one of the recognised rules of the game to allow + witnesses to stretch a point or two in favour of the defence where the social honour + of highly respectable families was involved.</p> + <p>Sir Herbert saw in the present defence the fact that the hand of his venerable + friend, Mr. Oakham, had not lost its cunning. Mr. Oakham was a very respectable + solicitor, acting for a very respectable client, and he had called a very respectable + Harley Street specialist—who, by a most fortuitous circumstance, had been + staying at the same hotel as the accused shortly before the murder was + committed—to convince the jury that the young man was insane, and that his form + of insanity was epilepsy, a disease which had prolonged lucid intervals.</p> + <p>A truly ingenious and eminently respectable defence, and one which, in his heart + of hearts, perhaps, Sir Herbert might not have been sorry to see succeed, for he knew + Sir James Penreath of Twelvetrees, and was sorry to see his son in such a position. + But he had his duty to perform, and that duty was to discredit in the eyes of the + jury the evidence of the witness in the box, because juries were prone to look upon + specialists as men to whom all things had been revealed, and return a verdict + accordingly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg + 189]</a></span></p> + <p>Sir Herbert made one mistake in his analysis of the defence. Sir Henry, at least, + believed in his own evidence and took himself very seriously as a specialist. Like + most stupid men who have got somewhere in life, Sir Henry became self-assertive under + the least semblance of contradiction, and he grew violent and red-faced under + cross-examination. He would not hear of the possibility of a mistake in his diagnosis + of the accused's symptoms, but insisted that the accused, when he saw him at the + Durrington hotel, was suffering from an epileptic seizure, combined with <i>furor + epilepticus</i>, and was in a state of mind which made him a menace to his fellow + creatures. It was true he qualified his statements with the words "so far as my + observation goes," but the qualification was given in a manner which suggested to the + jury that five minutes of Sir Henry Durwood's observation were worth a month's of a + dozen ordinary medical men.</p> + <p>Sir Henry's vehement insistence on his infallibility struck Sir Herbert as a + flagrant violation of the rules of the game. He did not accept the protestations as + genuine; he thought Sir Henry was overdoing his part, and playing to the gallery. He + grew nettled in his turn, and, with a sudden access of vigour in his tone, said:</p> + <p>"You told my learned friend that it is quite consistent with the prisoner's malady + that he could have committed the crime with which he stands charged, and remember + nothing about it afterwards. Is that a fact?"</p> + <p>"Certainly."</p> + <p>"In that case, will you kindly explain how the prisoner came to leave the inn + hurriedly, before anybody was up, the morning after the murder was committed? Why + should he run away if he had no recollection of his act?"</p> + <p>"I must object to my learned friend describing the<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> accused's departure from the inn as + 'running away,'" said Mr. Middleheath, with a bland smile of protest. "It is highly + improper, as nobody knows better than the Crown Prosecutor, and calculated to convey + an altogether erroneous impression on the minds of the jury. There is not the + slightest evidence to support such a statement. The evidence is that he saw the + servant and paid his bill before departure. That is not running away."</p> + <p>"Very well, I will say hastened away," replied Sir Herbert impatiently. "Why + should the accused hasten away from the inn if he retained no recollection of the + events of the night?"</p> + <p>"He may have had a hazy recollection," replied Sir Henry. "Not of the act itself, + but of strange events happening to him in the night—something like a bad dream, + but more vivid. He may have found something unusual—such as wet clothes or + muddy boots—for which he could not account. Then he would begin to wonder, and + then perhaps there would come a hazy recollection of some trivial detail. Then, as he + came to himself, he would begin to grow alarmed, and his impulse, as his normal mind + returned to him, would be to leave the place where he was as soon as he could. This + restlessness is a characteristic of epilepsy. In my opinion, it was this vague alarm, + on finding himself in a position for which he could not account, which was the cause + of the accused leaving the Durrington hotel. His last recollection, as he told me at + the time, was entering the breakfast-room; he came to his senses in his bedroom, with + strangers in the room."</p> + <p>"Does not recollection return completely in attacks of petit mal?"</p> + <p>"Sometimes it does; sometimes not. I remember a<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> case in my student days where an + epileptic violently assaulted a man in the street—almost murdered him in + fact—then assaulted a man who tried to detain him, ran away, and remembered + nothing about it afterwards."</p> + <p>"Is it consistent with petit mal, combined with <i>furor epilepticus</i>, for a + man to commit murder, conceal the body of his victim, and remember nothing about it + afterwards?"</p> + <p>"Quite consistent, though the probability is, as I said before, for him to have + some hazy recollection when he came to his senses, which would lead to his leaving + that place as quickly as he could."</p> + <p>"Would it be consistent with petit mal for a man to take a weapon away beforehand, + and then, during a sudden fit of petit mal, use it upon the unfortunate victim?"</p> + <p>"If he took the weapon for another purpose, it is quite possible that he might use + it afterwards."</p> + <p>"I should like to have that a little clearer," said the judge, interposing. "Do + you mean to get the weapon for another, possibly quite innocent purpose, and then use + it for an act of violence?"</p> + <p>"Yes, my lord," replied Sir Henry. "That is quite consistent with an attack of + petit mal."</p> + <p>"When a man has periodical attacks of petit mal, would it not be possible, by + observation of him between the attacks, or when he was suffering from the attacks, to + tell whether he had a tendency to them?"</p> + <p>"No, only in a very few and exceptional cases."</p> + <p>"In your opinion epilepsy is an hereditary disease?"</p> + <p>"Undoubtedly."</p> + <p>"Are you aware that certain eminent French specialists, including Marie, are of + the opinion that hereditary influences play a very small part in epilepsy?"<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span></p> + <p>"That may be." Sir Henry dismissed the views of the French specialists with a + condescending wave of his fat white hand.</p> + <p>"That does not alter your own opinion?"</p> + <p>"Certainly not."</p> + <p>"And do you say that because this man's mother suffered from epilepsy the chances + are that he is suffering from it?"</p> + <p>"Pardon me, I said nothing of the kind. I think the chances are that he would have + a highly organised nervous system, and would probably suffer from some nervous + disease. In the case of the prisoner, I should say that shell-shock increased his + predisposition to epilepsy."</p> + <p>"Do you suggest that shell-shock leads to epilepsy?"</p> + <p>"In general, no; in this particular case, possibly. A man may have shell-shock, + and injury to the brain, which is not necessarily epileptic."</p> + <p>"It is possible for shell-shock alone to lead to a subsequent attack of insanity?" + asked the judge.</p> + <p>"It is possible—certainly."</p> + <p>"How often do these attacks of petit mal occur?" asked Sir Herbert.</p> + <p>"They vary considerably according to the patient—sometimes once a week, + sometimes monthly, and there have been cases in which the attacks are separated by + months."</p> + <p>"Are not two attacks in twenty-four hours unprecedented?"</p> + <p>"Unusual, but not unprecedented. The excitement of going from one place to + another, and walking miles to get there, would be a predisposing factor. Prisoner + would have been suffering from the effects of the first attack when he left the + Durrington hotel, and the excite<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" + id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span>ment of the change and the fatigue of walking all + day would have been very prejudicial to him, and account for the second and more + violent attack."</p> + <p>"How long do the after effects last—of an attack of petit mal, I mean."</p> + <p>"It depends on the violence of the attack. Sometimes as long as five or six hours. + The recovery is generally attended with general lassitude."</p> + <p>"There is no evidence to show that the prisoner displayed any symptoms of epilepsy + before the attack which you witnessed at the Durrington hotel. Is it not unusual for + a person to reach the age of twenty-eight or thereabouts without showing any previous + signs of a disease like epilepsy?"</p> + <p>"There must be a first attack—that goes without saying," interposed the + judge testily.</p> + <p>That concluded the cross-examination. Mr. Middleheath, in re-examination, asked + Sir Henry whether foam at the lips was a distinguishing mark of epilepsy.</p> + <p>"It generally indicates an epileptic tendency," replied Sir Henry Durwood.</p> + <p>At the conclusion of Sir Henry Durwood's evidence Mr. Middleheath called an + official from the War Office to prove formally that Lieutenant James Penreath had + been discharged from His Majesty's forces suffering from shell-shock.</p> + <p>"I understand that, prior to the illness which terminated his military career, + Lieutenant Penreath had won a reputation as an exceedingly gallant soldier, and had + been awarded the D.S.O," said Mr. Middleheath.</p> + <p>"That is so," replied the witness.</p> + <p>"Is that the case?" asked the judge.</p> + <p>"That, my lord, is the case," replied Mr. Middleheath.</p> + <p>Sir Herbert Templewood, on behalf of the Crown, pro<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span>ceeded to call rebutting medical + evidence to support the Crown contention that the accused was sane and aware of the + nature of his acts. The first witness was Dr. Henry Manton, of Heathfield, who said + he saw the accused when he was brought into the station from Flegne by Police + Constable Queensmead. He seemed perfectly rational, though disinclined to talk.</p> + <p>"Did you find any symptom upon him which pointed to his having recently suffered + from epilepsy of any kind?" asked Sir Herbert.</p> + <p>"No."</p> + <p>"Do you agree with Sir Henry Durwood that between attacks of epilepsy the patient + would exhibit no signs of the disease?" asked Mr. Middleheath.</p> + <p>"What do you mean by between the attacks?"</p> + <p>"I mean when he had completely recovered from one fit and before the next came + on," explained counsel.</p> + <p>"I quite agree with that," replied the witness.</p> + <p>"How long does it usually take for a man to recover from an attack of + epilepsy?"</p> + <p>"It depends on the severity of the attack."</p> + <p>"Well, take an attack serious enough to cause a man to commit murder."</p> + <p>"It may take hours—five or six hours. He would certainly be drowsy and heavy + for three or four hours afterwards."</p> + <p>"But not longer—he would not show symptoms for thirty-six hours?"</p> + <p>"Certainly not."</p> + <p>"Then, may I take it from you, doctor, that after the five or six hours recovery + after a bad attack an epileptic might show no signs of the disease—not even to + medical eyes—till the next attack?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" + id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span></p> + <p>"I should say so," replied the witness. "But I am not an authority on mental + diseases."</p> + <p>"Thank you."</p> + <p>The next witness was Dr. Gilbert Horbury, who described himself as medical officer + of His Majesty's prison, Norwich, and formerly medical officer of the London + detention prison. In reply to Sir Herbert Templewood, he said he had had much + experience in cases of insanity and alleged insanity. He had had the accused in the + present case under observation since the time he had been brought to the gaol. He was + very taciturn, but he was quiet and gentlemanly in his behaviour. His temperature and + pulse were normal, but he slept badly, and twice he complained of pains in the head. + Witness attributed the pains in the head to the effect of shell-shock. He had seen no + signs which suggested, to his mind, that prisoner was an epileptic. In reply to a + direct question by Sir Herbert Templewood, he expressed his deliberate professional + opinion that the accused was not suffering from epilepsy in any form. Epilepsy did + not start off with a bad attack ending in violence—or murder. There were + premonitory symptoms and slight attacks extending over a considerable period, which + must have manifested themselves, particularly in the case of a man who had been + through an arduous military campaign. His illness might have had a bad effect on the + brain, but if it had led to mental disease he would have expected it to show itself + before.</p> + <p>From this point of view the witness, a dour, grey figure of a man, refused to be + driven by cross-examination. His many professional years within the sordid atmosphere + of gaol walls had taught him that most criminals were malingerers by instinct, and + that pretended insanity was the commonest form of their imposition to evade the<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> consequence of + their misdeeds. The number of false cases which had passed through his hands had led + him to the very human conclusion that all such defences were merely efforts to + defraud the law, and, as a zealous officer of the law, he took a righteous + satisfaction in discomfiting them, particularly when—as in the present + instance—the defence was used to shield an accused of some social standing. For + Dr. Horbury's political tendencies were levelling and iconoclastic, and he had a deep + contempt for caste, titles, and monarchs.</p> + <p>He was too sophisticated as a witness to walk into Mr. Middleheath's trap and + contradict Sir Henry's evidence directly, but he contrived to convey the impression + that his own observation of accused, covering a period of nine days, was a better + guide for the jury in arriving at a conclusion as to the accused's state of mind than + Sir Henry's opinion, formed after a single and limited opportunity of diagnosing the + case. He also managed to infer, in a gentlemanly professional way, that Sir Henry + Durwood was deservedly eminent in the medical world as a nerve specialist, rather + than as a mental specialist, whereas witness's own experience in mental cases had + been very wide. He talked learnedly of the difficulty of diagnosing epilepsy except + after prolonged observation, and cited lengthily from big books, which a court + constable brought into court one by one, on symptoms, reflex causes, auras, grand + mal, petit mal, Jacksonian epilepsy, and the like.</p> + <p>The only admission of any value that Mr. Middleheath could extract from Dr. + Horbury was a statement that while he had seen no symptoms in the prisoner to suggest + that he was an epileptic, epileptics did not, as a rule, show symptoms of the disease + between the attack.</p> + <p>"Therefore, assuming the fact that Penreath is subject<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> to epilepsy, you would not + necessarily expect to find any symptoms of the disease during the time he was + awaiting trial?" asked Mr. Middleheath, eagerly following up the opening.</p> + <p>"Possibly nothing that one could swear to," rejoined the witness, in an + exceedingly dry tone.</p> + <p>Mr. Middleheath essayed no more questions, but got the witness out of the box as + quickly as possible, trusting to his own address to remove the effect of the evidence + on the mind of the jury. At the outset of that address he pointed out that the case + for the Crown rested upon purely circumstantial evidence, and that nobody had seen + the prisoner commit the murder with which he was charged. The main portion of his + remarks was directed to convincing the jury that the prisoner was the unhappy victim + of epileptic attacks, in which he was not responsible for his actions. He scouted the + theory of motive, as put forward by the Crown. It was not fair to suggest that the + Treasury note which the accused paid to the servant at the inn was necessarily part + of the dead man's money which had disappeared on the night of the murder and had not + since been recovered. The fact that the accused had been turned out of the Grand + Hotel, for not paying his hotel bill, was put forward by the Crown to show that he + was in a penniless condition, but that assumption went too far. It might well be that + a man in the accused's social standing would have a pound or two in his pocket, + although he might not be able to meet an hotel bill of £30.</p> + <p>"Can you conceive this young man, this gallant soldier, this heir to an old and + honourable name, with everything in life to look forward to, committing an atrocious + murder for £300?" continued Mr. Middleheath. "The traditions of his name and + race, his upbringing, his recent gallant career as a soldier, alike forbid the sordid + possi<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg + 198]</a></span>bility. Moreover, he had no need to commit a crime to obtain money. + His father, his friends, or the woman who was to be his wife, would have instantly + supplied him with the money he needed, if they had known he was in want. To a young + man in his station of life £300 is a comparatively small sum. Is it likely that + he would have committed murder to obtain it?"</p> + <p>"On the other hand, the prisoner's actions, since returning to England, strongly + suggest that his mind has been giving way for some time past. He was invalided from + the Army suffering from shell-shock, with the result that his constitution became + weakened, and the fatal taint of inherited epilepsy, which was in his blood, began to + manifest itself. His family doctor and his fiancée have told you that his + behaviour was strange before he left for Norfolk; since coming to Norfolk it has been + unmistakably that of a man who is no longer sane. Was it the conduct of a sane man to + conceal his whereabouts from his friends, and stay at an hotel without money till he + was turned out, when he might have had plenty of money, or at all events saved + himself the humiliation of being turned out of the hotel, at the cost of a telegram? + And why did he subsequently go miles across country to a remote and wretched inn, + where he had never been before, and beg for a bed for the night? Were these the acts + of a sane man?"</p> + <p>In his peroration Mr. Middleheath laid particular emphasis on the evidence of Sir + Henry Durwood, whose name was known throughout England as one of the most eminent + specialists of his day. Sir Henry Durwood, Mr. Middleheath pointed out, had seen the + prisoner in a fit at the Durrington hotel, and he emphatically declared that the + accused was an epileptic, with homicidal tendencies. Such an opinion, coming from + such a quarter,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg + 199]</a></span> was, to Mr. Middleheath's mind, incontrovertible proof of the + prisoner's insanity, and he did not see how the jury could go behind it in coming to + a decision.</p> + <p>Sir Herbert Templewood's address consisted of a dry marshalling of the facts for + and against the theory of insanity. Sir Herbert contended that the defence had failed + to establish their contention that the accused man was not in his right mind. He + impressed upon the jury the decided opinion of Dr. Horbury, who, as doctor of the + metropolitan receiving gaol, had probably a wider experience of epilepsy and insanity + than any specialist in the world. Dr. Horbury, after nine days close observation of + the accused, had come to the conclusion that he was perfectly sane and responsible + for his actions.</p> + <p>The general opinion among the bunch of legal wigs which gathered together at the + barristers' table as Sir Herbert Templewood resumed his seat was that the issue had + been very closely fought on both sides, and that the verdict would depend largely + upon the way the judge summed up.</p> + <p>His lordship commenced his summing up by informing the jury that in the first + place they must be satisfied that the prisoner was the person who killed Mr. + Glenthorpe. He did not think they would have much difficulty on that head, because, + although the evidence was purely circumstantial, it pointed strongly to the accused, + and the defence had not seriously contested the charge. Therefore, if they were + satisfied that the accused did, in fact, cause the death of Mr. Glenthorpe, the only + question that remained for them to decide was the state of the prisoner's mind at the + time. If they were satisfied that he was not insane at the time, they must find him + guilty of murder. If, however, they came to the conclusion that he was insane at the + time he committed the act, they would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" + id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> return a verdict that he was guilty of the act + charged against him, but that he was insane at the time.</p> + <p>His lordship painstakingly defined the difference between sanity and insanity in + the eyes of the law, but though his precise and legal definition called forth + appreciative glances from the lawyers below him, it is doubtful whether the jury were + much wiser for the explanation. After reviewing the evidence for the prosecution at + considerable length, his lordship then proceeded, with judicial impartiality, to + state the case for the defence. The case for the prisoner, he said, was that he had + been strange or eccentric ever since he returned from the front suffering from + shell-shock, that his eccentricity deepened into homicidal insanity, and that he + committed the act of which he stood charged while suffering under an attack of + epilepsy, which produced a state of mind that led the sufferer to commit an act of + violence without understanding what he was doing. In view of the nature of this + defence the jury were bound to look into the prisoner's family and hereditary + history, and into his own acts before the murder, before coming to a conclusion as to + his state of mind.</p> + <p>The defence, he thought, had proved sufficient to enable the jury to draw the + conclusion that Lady Penreath, the mother of the prisoner, was an epileptic. The + assertion that the prisoner was an epileptic rested upon the evidence of Sir Henry + Durwood, for the evidence of Miss Willoughby and the family doctor went no further + than to suggest a slight strangeness or departure from the prisoner's usual + demeanour. Sir Henry Durwood, by reason of his professional standing, was entitled to + be received with respect, but he had himself admitted that he had had no previous + opportunity of diagnosing the case of accused, and that it was difficult to form an + exact<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> + opinion in a disease like epilepsy. Dr. Horbury, on the other hand, had declared that + the prisoner showed nothing symptomatic of epilepsy while awaiting remand. In Dr. + Horbury's opinion, he was not an epileptic. Therefore the case resolved itself into a + direct conflict of medical testimony, and it was for the jury to decide, and form a + conclusion as to the man's state of mind in conjunction with the other evidence.</p> + <p>"The contention for the defence," continued his lordship, leaning forward and + punctuating his words with sharp taps of his fountain pen on the desk in front of + him, "is this: 'Look at this case fairly and clearly, and you are bound to come to + the conclusion that this man is not in a sound frame of mind.' The prosecution, on + the other hand, say, 'The facts of this case do not point to insanity at all, but to + deliberate murder for gain.' The defence urge further, 'You have got to look at the + probabilities. No man in prisoner's position, a gentleman by birth and upbringing, + the heir of an old and proud name, with a hitherto unblemished reputation, and the + prospects of a long and not inconspicuous career in front of him, would in his senses + have murdered this old man.' That is a matter for you to consider, because we do know + that brutal crimes are committed by the most unlikely persons. But the prosecution + also allege motive, and you must consider the question of motive. It is suggested, + and it is for you to consider whether rightly or wrongly suggested, that there was a + motive in killing this man, because the prisoner was absolutely penniless and wanted + to get money."</p> + <p>"Gentlemen, you will first apply your minds to considering all the evidence, and + you will next consider whether you are satisfied that the prisoner knew the + difference between right and wrong so far as the act with<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> which he is charged is concerned. + You must decide whether he knew the nature and quality of the act, and whether he + knew the difference between that act being right, and that act being wrong. I have + already pointed out to you that the law presumes him to be of sane mind, and able to + distinguish between right and wrong, and it is for him to satisfy you, if he is to + escape responsibility for this act, that he could not tell whether it was right or + wrong. If you are satisfied of that, you ought to say that he is guilty of the act + alleged, but insane at the time it was committed. If you are not satisfied on that + point, then it is your duty to find him guilty of murder. Gentlemen, you will kindly + retire and consider your verdict."</p> + <p>The jury retired, and there ensued a period of tension, which the lawyers employed + in discussing the technicalities of the case and the probabilities of an acquittal. + Mr. Oakham thought an acquittal was a certainty, but Mr. Middleheath, with a deeper + knowledge of the ways of provincial juries, declared that the defence would have + stood a better chance of success before a London jury, because Londoners had more + imagination than other Englishmen.</p> + <p>"You never can tell how a d——d muddle-headed country jury will decide + a highly technical case like this," said the K.C. peevishly. "I've lost stronger + cases than this before a Norfolk jury. Norfolk men are clannish, and Horbury's + evidence carried weight. He is a Norfolk man, though he has been in London. One never + knows, of course. If the jury remain out over an hour I think we will pull it + off."</p> + <p>But the jury returned into court after an absence of forty minutes. The judge, who + was waiting in his private room, was informed, and he entered the court and<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> resumed his + seat. The jury answered to their names, and then the Clerk of Arraigns, in a sing-song + voice, said:</p> + <p>"Gentlemen, have you agreed upon your verdict? Do you find the prisoner guilty or + not guilty of wilful murder?"</p> + <p>"Guilty!" answered the foreman, in a loud, clear voice.</p> + <p>"You say that he is guilty of murder, and that is the verdict of you all?"</p> + <p>"That is the verdict of us all," was the response.</p> + <p>"James Ronald Penreath," continued the clerk, turning to the accused man, and + speaking in the same sing-song tones of one who repeated a formula by rote, "you + stand convicted of the crime of wilful murder. Have you anything to say for yourself + why the Court should not give you judgment of death according to law?"</p> + <p>The man in the dock, who had turned very pale, merely shook his head.</p> + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span></p> + <p>The judge, with expressionless face and in an expressionless voice, pronounced + sentence of death.</p> + <hr style="width: 35%;" size="6" /> + <h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + <p>Colwyn returned to Durrington in a perplexed and dissatisfied frame of mind. The + trial, which he had attended and followed closely, had failed to convince him that + all the facts concerning the death of Roger Glenthorpe had been brought to light. + Really, the trial had not been a trial at all, but merely a battle of lawyers about + the state of Penreath's mind.</p> + <p>If Penreath was really sane—and Colwyn, who had watched him closely during + the trial, believed that he was—the Crown theory of the murder by no means + accounted for all the amazing facts of the case.</p> + <p>Should he have done more? Colwyn asked himself this question again and again. But + that query always led to another one—<i>Could</i> he have done more? In his + mental probings the detective could rarely get away from the point—and when he + did get away from it he always returned to it—that Penreath, by his dogged + silence, had been largely responsible for his own conviction. If a man, charged with + murder, refused to account for actions which pointed to him as the murderer, how + could anybody help him? Silence, in certain circumstances, was the strongest + presumptive proof of guilt. A man was the best judge of his own actions and, if he + refused to speak when his own life might pay the forfeit for silence, he must have + the strongest possible reason for holding his tongue. What other reason could + Penreath have except the consciousness of guilt, and the hope of<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> escaping the + consequences through a loop-hole of the law?</p> + <p>Colwyn, however, was unable to accept this line of argument as conclusive, so he + tried to put the case out of his mind. But the unsolved points of the + mystery—the points that he himself had discovered during his visit to the + inn—kept returning to his mind at all sorts of odd times, in the night, and + during his walks. And each recurrence was accompanied by the consciousness that he + had not done his best in the case, but had allowed the silence of the accused man to + influence his judgment and slacken his efforts to unravel the clues he had originally + discovered. Thus he travelled back to his starting-point, that the conviction of + Penreath had not solved the mystery of the murder of Roger Glenthorpe.</p> + <p>The hotel and its guests bored him. The season was over, and the few people who + remained were elderly and commonplace, prone to overeating, and to falling asleep + round the lounge fire after dinner. The only topics of conversation were the weather, + the war, and food. Sometimes the elderly clergyman, who still lingered, though the + other golfers had gone, sought to turn the conversation to golf, but nobody listened + to him except his wife, who sat opposite to him in the warmest part of the lounge + placidly knitting socks for the War Comforts Fund. The Flegne murder and its result + were not discussed; by tacit mutual understanding the guests never referred to the + unpleasant fact that they had lived for some weeks under the same roof with a man who + had since been declared a murderer by the laws of his country.</p> + <p>Colwyn decided to return to London, although the month he had allowed himself for + a holiday was not completed. He was restless and uneasy and bored, and he thought + that immersion in work would help him to for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" + id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span>get the Glenthorpe case. He came to this decision at + breakfast one morning. Within an hour he had paid his bill, received the polite + regrets of the proprietor at his departure, and was motoring leisurely southward + along the cliff road towards its junction with the main London road.</p> + <p>Important consequences frequently spring from trifling incidents. Colwyn, turning + his car to the side of the road to avoid a flock of sheep, punctured a tyre on a + sharp jagged piece of rock concealed in the loose sand at the side of the road. He + had not a spare tyre on the car, and the shepherd informed him that the nearest town + where he could hope to get the tyre replaced was Faircroft, but even that was + doubtful, because Faircroft was a small town without a garage, and the one tradesman + who did motor-car repairs was, just as likely as not, without the right kind of + tyres, or equally likely to have none at all. As he had left Durrington barely three + miles behind Colwyn decided to return there, to have the car repaired, and defer his + departure till the following day.</p> + <p>He reached Durrington with a deflated tyre, took the car to the garage, and then + went back to the hotel. It wanted nearly an hour to lunch-time, and on his way in he + paused at the office window to inform the clerk that he had returned, and would stay + till the following day. The proprietor was in the office, checking some figures. The + latter looked up as Colwyn informed the lady clerk of his altered plans, and informed + him that a young lady had been at the hotel inquiring for him shortly after his + departure.</p> + <p>"What was her name?" asked the detective, in some surprise.</p> + <p>"She didn't give her name. She seemed very disap<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span>pointed when she learnt that you had + departed for London, and went away at once."</p> + <p>"What was she like?"</p> + <p>The proprietor and the lady clerk described her at the same time. In the former's + eyes the visitor had appeared pretty and young with golden hair and a very clear + complexion. The lady clerk, without the least departure from the standard of courtesy + imposed upon her by her position, managed to indicate that the impression made upon + her feminine mind was that of a white-faced girl with red hair. From both + descriptions Colwyn had no difficulty in identifying the visitor as Peggy.</p> + <p>Why had she come to Durrington to see him? Obviously the visit was connected with + the murder at the inn. Colwyn recalled his last conversation with her on the marshes + the day after he had seen her come out of the dead man's room.</p> + <p>He hurried out in the hope of finding her. She had probably come by train from + Leyland, and would go back the same way. Colwyn looked at his watch. It was a quarter + past twelve, and there was no train back to Leyland till half-past one—so much + Colwyn remembered from his study of the local time-table. Therefore, unless she had + walked back to Flegne she should not be difficult to find—probably she was + somewhere on the cliffs, or near the sea. Somehow, Peggy seemed to belong to the sea + and Nature. It was difficult to picture her in a conventional setting.</p> + <p>It was by the sea that he found her, sitting in one of the shelters on the parade, + with her hands clasped in her lap, looking listlessly at a fisher-boat putting out + from the yellow sands below. She glanced round at the sound of his footsteps, and, + seeing who it was, came out from the shelter and advanced to meet him.<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span></p> + <p>"They told me at the hotel somebody had been asking for me, and I guessed it was + you. You wanted to see me?"</p> + <p>"Yes." She did not express any surprise at his return, as another girl would, but + stood with her hands still clasped in front of her, and a look of entreaty in her + eyes. Colwyn noticed that her face had grown thinner, and that in the depths of her + glance there lurked a troubled shadow.</p> + <p>"Shall we walk a little and you can tell me what you wish to say?"</p> + <p>"It is very kind of you."</p> + <p>He turned away from the front and towards the cliffs, judging that the girl would + feel more disposed to talk freely away from human habitation and people. They went on + for some distance in silence, the girl walking with a light quick step, looking + straight in front of her, as though immersed in thought.</p> + <p>They reached a part of the cliffs where a low wall divided the foreland from an + old churchyard which was fast crumbling into the sea. Peggy paused with her hand on + the wall, and looked seaward. The sun, piercing a rift in the dark clouds, lighted + the sullen grey waters with patches of gold. Colwyn, in the hope of inducing his + companion to talk, pointed out the beautiful effect of the light and shadow on the + sea.</p> + <p>"I hate the sea! I have never looked at it since the war started without seeing + the many, many dead sailor boys at the bottom, staring up with their dead eyes + through the weight of waters for a God of Justice in the heavens, and looking in + vain." She turned her eyes from the sea, and looked at him passionately. "You do not + care about the sea, either. You are only trying to put me at my ease—to help me + say what I want to say.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg + 209]</a></span> It is kind of you, but it is not necessary. I feel I can trust + you—I must trust you. I am only a girl and there is nobody else in the world I + dare trust. It is about—<i>him</i>. Have you seen him? Have you spoken to him? + Did he speak about me?"</p> + <p>"I saw him only at the trial," replied Colwyn, with his ready comprehension. "I + had no opportunity of speaking to him alone."</p> + <p>"I read about the trial in the paper," she went on. "They said that he was mad in + order to try and save him, but he is not mad—he was too good and kind to be + mad. Oh, why did he kill Mr. Glenthorpe? Will they kill him for that? You are clever, + can you not save him? I have come to beg you to save him. Ever since they took him + away I have seen his eyes wherever I go, looking at me reproachfully, as though + calling upon me to save him. Last night, while I was in my grandmother's room, I + thought I saw him standing there, and heard his voice, just as he used to speak. And + in the night I woke up and thought I heard him whisper, 'Peggy, it is better to tell + the truth.' This morning I could endure it no longer, and I came across to find + you."</p> + <p>"You have known him before, then?"</p> + <p>"Yes." The girl met Colwyn's grave glance with clear, unafraid eyes. "I did not + tell you before, not because I was afraid to trust you, for I liked you from the + first, but I was afraid that if I told you all you would think him guilty, and not + try to help him. And when you spoke to me on the marshes that day you believed he + might be innocent."</p> + <p>"How do you know that?"</p> + <p>"I heard you say so to that police officer—Superintendent + Galloway—after dinner the first night you were at Flegne. I was passing the bar + parlour when you and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg + 210]</a></span> he were talking about the murder, and I heard you say that you + thought somebody else might have done it. The day after, when you saw me on the + marshes, I was frightened to tell you the truth, because I thought if you knew it you + might go away and not try to save him."</p> + <p>"You had better tell the whole truth to me now. Nothing you can now say will make + it worse for Penreath, and it may be possible to help him. When did you first meet + him?"</p> + <p>"Nearly three weeks before—it happened. I used to go out for long walks, + when I could get away from grandmother, and this day I walked nearly as far as + Leyland. He came walking along the sands a little while afterwards, and he looked at + me as he passed. Presently he came back again, and stopped to ask me if there was a + shorter way back to Durrington than by the coast road. I told him I didn't know, and + he stopped to talk to me for a while. He told me he was in Norfolk for a holiday, and + was spending the time in country rambles.</p> + <p>"I will tell you the whole truth. I returned to the headland next day in the hope + that I might see him again. After I had been there a little while I saw him walking + along the sands. He waved his hand when he saw me, as though we had been old friends, + and that afternoon we stayed talking much longer.</p> + <p>"I saw him nearly every afternoon after that—whenever I could get away I + walked down to the headland, and he was always there. The spot where we used to meet + was hidden from the road by some fir-trees, and I do not think we were ever seen by + anybody. He told me all about himself, but I did not tell him anything about myself + or my home. I knew he was a gentleman, and I thought if I told him that my father + kept an inn he might not want to see me any more, and I could not<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> bear that. I + told him my Christian name, and he liked it, and used to call me by it, but I would + not tell him my other name.</p> + <p>"The night that he came to the inn I met him in the afternoon at the headland as + usual, and we stayed talking until it was time for me to go home. He was very + troubled that day, and it grieved me to see him looking so white and ill. When I + questioned him he told me that he had been slightly ill that morning, and that he was + very much worried about money matters. I felt very unhappy to think that he was + troubled about money, and when he saw that he said he was sorry he had told me.</p> + <p>"When I left him it was later than usual. I was supposed to look after my + grandmother every afternoon, and when I went to the headland I usually got Ann to sit + in her room until I returned. I was always careful to get back before my father came + in from fishing on the marshes. He would have been very angry if he had returned and + found me absent, and I should not have been able to get out again. It was nearly four + that afternoon when I left the headland, and I walked very quick so as to be back in + time. It was getting on towards dusk when I reached home.</p> + <p>"I went straight up to my grandmother's room, so that Ann could go down and get + dinner for Mr. Glenthorpe, who usually came in about dark. I sat with grandmother + till past six o'clock, and then, as Ann hadn't brought grandmother's tea, I went down + to the kitchen to get it myself. Ann was very busy getting dinner, and she told me a + young gentleman had arrived at the inn half an hour before, and he was going to dine + upstairs with Mr. Glenthorpe, and stay for the night. I was surprised, for we rarely + had visitors at the inn. I asked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" + id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> Ann some questions about him, but she could tell me + very little. Charles, the waiter, came into the kitchen to get the things ready to + take upstairs, and he told me that the visitor was young, good-looking, and seemed a + gentleman.</p> + <p>"I got grandmother's tea ready, and was carrying it along the passage from the + kitchen when I fancied I heard Mr. Penreath's voice in the bar parlour. I thought at + first that I must be mistaken; then the door of the parlour opened, and Mr. + Glenthorpe and Mr. Penreath came out. I was so surprised and frightened that I almost + dropped the tray I was carrying. If they had looked down the side passage they would + have seen me. But he and Mr. Glenthorpe turned the other way, and went upstairs. Then + Charles came along carrying a dinner tray, and went upstairs also. I knew then that + Mr. Penreath was the gentleman who was going to dine with Mr. Glenthorpe, and stay + the night.</p> + <p>"I did not know what to do. I took grandmother's tea upstairs, and crept past the + room where they were having dinner, because I did not want him to see me till I had + made up my mind what to do. The door was shut, and they couldn't see me, though I + could hear them talking inside. When I got to my grandmother's room I tried to think + what was best to do. My first thought was that he had found out who I was. Then it + seemed to me that he might have come by accident, in some way that I didn't + understand, because why should he dine with Mr. Glenthorpe, and stay with him, if he + had come to see me? Then I wondered if it were possible that he knew Mr. Glenthorpe, + who was a gentleman like himself, and had come to ask him to help him. I had never + told him anything about Mr. Glenthorpe or myself.<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span></p> + <p>"I determined to try and see him that night to let him know that the inn was my + home. If he had come to the inn by accident it was better that he should not meet me + in front of my father, because in his surprise he might say that he had met me + before. My father would have been very angry if he knew I had been meeting a + stranger. So I went along the passage several times in the hope of seeing him as he + came from dinner. But once my father was going into the room where they were having + dinner, and he nearly saw me, so I dared not go again.</p> + <p>"A little after ten o'clock my grandmother began to get restless, as she always + does when a storm is coming on, and I had to stay with her to keep her quiet. I can + do more with her than anybody else when she is like that, and it is not safe to leave + her. Sometimes my father goes and sits with her a while before he goes to bed, but + this night he did not. She got very bad as the storm came on, and while it lasted I + sat alongside of her holding her hand and soothing her. After about half an hour the + rain ceased as suddenly as it had commenced, and grandmother fell asleep. I knew she + was all right until the morning, so I left her for the night.</p> + <p>"As I turned to go to my room, I thought I saw a light in the other passage, and I + went down to see what it was. I thought perhaps Mr. Penreath might be waiting up + reading before going to bed.</p> + <p>"I crept along to the bend of the passage, and looked down it, thinking perhaps I + might see him and speak to him. There was nobody in the passage, but the door of Mr. + Glenthorpe's room was half open and a light was streaming through it.</p> + <p>"I do not know really what took me to Mr. Glenthorpe's room. I have tried to think + it out clearly since,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg + 214]</a></span> but I cannot. I know I was distressed and troubled about Mr. + Penreath's presence at the inn, and I was afraid he would be cross and angry with me + for not having told him the truth about myself. And before that, when I was walking + home after meeting him that afternoon, I had been unhappy about his wanting money, + and wished that I could do something to help him. These thoughts kept going through + my head as I sat with grandmother during the storm.</p> + <p>"When I saw the door of Mr. Glenthorpe's room open, and the light burning, all + these thoughts seemed to come back into my head together. I remembered how good and + kind Mr. Glenthorpe had always been to me. I had heard my father tell Charles that + morning that Mr. Glenthorpe had gone to the bank at Heathfield that day to draw out a + large sum of money to buy Mr. Cranley's field.</p> + <p>"I think I had a confused idea that I would go and confide in Mr. Glenthorpe, and + ask him to help Mr. Penreath. Perhaps I have not made myself very clear about this, + but I do not remember very clearly myself, for I acted on a sudden impulse, and ran + along the passage quickly, in case he should shut his door before I got there, + because I knew if he did that I should not have the courage to knock. Through the + half-open door I could see the inside of the room between the door and the window. It + seemed to me to be empty. I gave a little tap at the door, but there was no reply. It + was then I noticed that the bedroom window was wide open, and that a current of air + was blowing into the room and causing the light behind the door to cast flickering + shadows across the room.</p> + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span></p> + <p>"That struck me as strange. I knew Mr. Glenthorpe always used a reading lamp, and + never a candle, and I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg + 215]</a></span> knew that the reading lamp wouldn't cast shadows because of the lamp + glass. I do not know what I feared, but I know a dreadful shiver of fear crept over + me, and that some force stronger than myself seemed to compel me to step inside the + room in spite of my fears."</p> + <hr style="width: 35%;" size="6" /> + <h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + <p>"He was lying on the bed, quite dead. There was blood on his breast, and his hands + were held out, as though he had tried to push off the man who had killed him. On the + table, by the head of the bed, was a lighted candle, and it was the light of the + candle which had cast the flickering shadows I had seen before entering the room. On + the bed, near the pillow, was a match-box, and I remember picking it up and placing + it in the candlestick—mechanically, for I am sure I did not know what I was + doing, and I did not recall the act till afterwards. I have a clearer recollection of + touching something with my foot, and stooping to pick it up. It was a knife—a + white handled knife, with blood on the blade. And as I stood there, with it in my + hand, there came to my mind, clear and distinct, the memory of having seen that knife + on the dinner tray Charles had carried past me upstairs, as I stood in the passage + near the kitchen, where I first discovered that Mr. Penreath was in the house.</p> + <p>"I do not know how long I stood there, with the knife in my hand, looking at the + body—perhaps it was not more than a moment. There seemed to be two + individualities in me, one urging me to fly, the other keeping me rooted to the spot, + petrified.</p> + <p>"Then I heard a sound downstairs. A wild panic came over me, and my head grew + dizzy. The shadows in the corners of the room seemed full of mocking eyes, and I + thought I heard stealthy steps creeping up the stairs. I dared not stay where I was, + but I was too<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg + 217]</a></span> afraid to go out into the passage in the dark. Then my eyes fell on + the candle, and I picked it up and was going to rush from the room, when I remembered + that I had the knife in my hand.</p> + <p>"I did not know what to do with it. I wanted to shield him, but some feeling + within me would not let me carry it away. I looked round the room for somewhere to + hide it, and my eye fell on a picture against the wall, close to the door. Quick as + thought I put the knife behind the picture as I ran from the room.</p> + <p>"There was nobody in the passage, and I gained my own room and locked the door. I + think I must have fainted, or become unconscious, for I remember nothing more after + throwing myself on my bed, and when I came to my senses the dawn was creeping in + through my bedroom window. I was very cold, and dazed. I crept into bed without + taking off my clothes, and fell asleep. When I awoke it was broad daylight, and as I + lay in bed I heard the kitchen clock chime seven.</p> + <p>"I got up, and went into grandmother's room. A little while afterwards Ann came up + with some tea, and she told me that Mr. Penreath had gone away early, without having + any breakfast. She told me that she had found Mr. Glenthorpe's room empty, with the + key in the outside of the door. She was afraid something had happened to him, so she + had sent for Constable Queensmead. I did not tell her what I had seen in the night. I + wanted to be alone, to think. I could not understand how Mr. Glenthorpe's body had + disappeared from his room. I think I hoped that I would presently wake up and find + that what I had seen during the night was some terrible dream. But Ann came up a + little later and told me that Mr. Glenthorpe's body had been discovered in the pit + on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> the + rise, and that Mr. Ronald, as she called Mr. Penreath, was suspected of having + murdered him.</p> + <p>"When she told me that I felt as though my blood turned to ice. I knew it was + true—I knew that he had killed Mr. Glenthorpe because he wanted money—but + I knew that in spite of all I wanted to shield and help him. I kept in my + grandmother's room all day, determined to keep silence, and tell nobody about what I + had seen during the night. The one thing that worried me was the knife which I had + put behind the picture on the wall. I tried once to go into the room and get it, but + the door was locked, and I dared not ask for the key.</p> + <p>"Then in the afternoon the police came from Durrington. I did not know who you + were when you came with them into my grandmother's room, but as soon as I saw you I + was afraid, though I tried hard not to let you see it. I knew you were cleverer than + the others. But your eyes seemed to go right into mine, and search my soul. I asked + my father afterwards who you were, and he said your name was Mr. Colwyn, and that you + were a London detective. I had read about you; I knew that you were famous and + clever, and after seeing you I felt that you would be sure to discover my secret, and + put Mr. Penreath in prison.</p> + <p>"That night when I was downstairs, I heard you and the police officer talking in + the room where you had dined, and I listened at the door. When I heard you say that + you were not certain who committed the murder, I was very much surprised, because up + till then I felt quite certain that you would think Mr. Penreath was guilty. I + believed if you found the knife you would alter your opinion, Ann having told me that + the police knew that Mr. Glenthorpe had been murdered with a knife which Mr. Penreath + had used at dinner. The idea<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" + id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> came into my head that if I could get the knife + before you found it, you might go on thinking that somebody else had committed the + crime, and perhaps persuade the police to think so as well.</p> + <p>"I made up my mind I would go into the room that night and get the knife. I knew + that the door was locked, and that the police officer had placed the key on the + mantelpiece in the bar parlour. During the evening I kept downstairs at the back of + the passage waiting for an opportunity to get it. You both stayed there so long that + I did not think I should get the chance.</p> + <p>"After you went upstairs to bed Mr. Galloway called Charles to get him some + brandy. Charles came out from his room to get it. Mr. Galloway followed him into the + bar. While he was there I slipped into the room and got the key, and left the key of + my own room in its place. I did not think the police officer would notice the + difference, but it was a risk I had to take. Then I ran up to my room.</p> + <p>"Although I had got the key I was for some time afraid to use it. I could not bear + the thought of going into that room, and to get there I had to go past your door; I + did not like that.</p> + <p>"Then I crept out along the passage as quietly as I could, carrying my shoes, for + I had made up my mind that after I got the knife I would take it across the marshes + to the breakwater and throw it into the sea. That was the one place where I felt sure + you would not find it. I carried a candle in my hand, but I dared not light it until + I got past your door, in case you were awake and saw the light. When I reached Mr. + Glenthorpe's room I lit the candle and unlocked the door, turning the key as gently + as I could. But it made a noise, and, as I stood listening, I thought I heard a + movement in your<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg + 220]</a></span> room. I blew out the candle, stepped inside the room, took the key + out, and locked the door on the inside.</p> + <p>"I do not know how long I stood there listening in the dark, but I know that I was + not as frightened as I had expected to be—at first. I kept telling myself that + Mr. Glenthorpe had always been kind to me while he was alive, and that he would not + harm me now that he was dead. I did not look towards the bed, but kept close to the + door, straining my ears to catch any sound in the passage outside. But after a while + I began to get frightened in that dark room with the door locked, and dreadful + thoughts came into my mind. I remembered a story I had read about a man who was + locked up all night in a room with a dead body, and was found mad in the morning, and + the position of the corpse had changed. It seemed to me as though Mr. Glenthorpe was + sitting up in bed looking at me, but I dared not turn round to see. I knew that I + must get out of the room or scream. I lit the candle, felt for the knife behind the + picture, and opened the door. As soon as the candle was alight I felt braver, and I + looked out of the door before going into the passage. I could see nothing—all + seemed quiet—so I came out of the room and locked the door behind me and went + downstairs.</p> + <p>"Once I was outside the house and could see the friendly stars all my fears + vanished. I know the marshes so well that I can find my way across them at any time. + And in my heart I had the feeling that I had been brave and helped him. When I had + thrown the knife into the sea from the breakwater I felt almost lighthearted, and + when I reached my room again I fell asleep as soon as I got into bed.</p> + <p>"Until you spoke to me the next day I had no idea that you had seen and followed + me. But I knew it the mo<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg + 221]</a></span>ment you stopped me and said you wanted to speak to me. Then I + realised you had watched me, and the story I told you to account for my visit to the + room came into my head. I did not know whether you believed me or not, but I did not + care much, because I knew you could not have seen what I threw into the sea. That + secret was safe as long as I kept silence; and you couldn't make me speak against my + will."</p> + <p>Peggy, as she concluded, glanced up wistfully to see how her companion received + her story, but she could learn nothing from the detective's inscrutable face. Colwyn, + on his part, was thinking rapidly. He believed that the innkeeper's daughter, + yielding to the strain of a secret too heavy to be borne alone, had this time told + him the truth, but, as he ran over the main points of her narrative in his mind, he + could not see that it shed any additional light on the murder. The only new fact that + she had revealed was that she and Penreath had been acquainted before. She had also, + perhaps unconsciously, given away the fact that she and Penreath were in love with + each other; at all events, her story proved that she was so deeply in love with + Penreath that she had displayed unusual force of character in her efforts to shield + him. But that knowledge did not carry them any further towards a solution of the + mystery. It was with but a faint hope of eliciting anything of real value that he + turned to her and said:</p> + <p>"There is one point of your story on which I am not quite clear. You said that in + the morning, when you heard of the recovery of Mr. Glenthorpe's body from the pit, + you knew that Mr. Penreath was the murderer. Why were you so sure of that? Was is + because you picked up the knife with which the murder was committed? The knife was a + clue—the police theory of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" + id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> course is that Penreath secreted the knife at the + dinner table for the purpose of committing the murder—but, by itself, it was + hardly a convincing clue. Was there something else that made you feel sure he was + guilty of this crime?"</p> + <p>"Yes, there was something else," she repeated slowly.</p> + <p>"I thought as much. And that something else was the match-box—is that not + so?"</p> + <p>"Yes, it was the match-box," she repeated again, this time almost in a + whisper.</p> + <p>"What was there about the match-box that made you feel so certain?"</p> + <p>"Must I tell you that?" she said, looking at him helplessly.</p> + <p>"Of course you must tell me." Colwyn's face was stern. "As I told you before, + nothing you can do or say can hurt him now, and the only hope of helping him is by + telling the whole truth."</p> + <p>"It was his match-box. It had his monogram on it."</p> + <p>"You have brought it with you?"</p> + <p>For answer she took something from the bosom of her dress and laid it, with a + heart-broken look, in Colwyn's hand. The article was a small match-box, with a + regimental badge in enamel on one side, and on the other some initials in monogram. + Colwyn examined it closely.</p> + <p>"I see the initials are J.R.P.," he said. "How did you know they were his + initials? You knew his name?"</p> + <p>"Yes. He used to light cigarettes with matches from that match-box when I was with + him, and one day I asked him to show it to me. He did so, and I asked him what the + initials were for, and he told me they stood for his own name—James Ronald + Penreath. And then he told me much about himself and his family, and—and he + said he cared for me, but he was not free."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" + id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span></p> + <p>She gave out the last few words in a low tone, and stood looking at him like a + girl who had exposed the most sacred secret of her heart in order to help her lover. + But Colwyn was not looking at her. He had opened the match-box, and was shaking out + the few matches which remained in the interior. They fell, half a dozen of them, into + the palm of his hand. They were wax matches, with blue heads. A sudden light leapt + into the detective's eyes as he saw them—a look so strange and angry that the + girl, who was watching him, recoiled a little.</p> + <p>"What is it? What have you found?" she cried.</p> + <p>"It is a pity you did not tell me the truth in the first instance instead of + deceiving me," he retorted harshly. "Listen to me. Does any one at the inn know of + your visit to me to-day? I do not suppose they do, but I want to make sure."</p> + <p>"Nobody. I told them I was going to Leyland to see the dressmaker."</p> + <p>"So much the better." Colwyn looked at his watch. "You have just time to catch the + half-past one train back. You had better go at once. I will go to the inn some time + this evening, but you must not let any one know that I am coming, or that you have + seen me to-day. Do you understand? Can I depend on you?"</p> + <p>"Yes," she replied. "I will do anything you tell me. But, oh, do tell me before I + go whether you are going to save him."</p> + <p>"I cannot say that," he replied, in a gentler voice. "But I am going to try to + help him. Go at once, or you will not catch the train."<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span></p> + <hr style="width: 35%;" size="6" /> + <h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2> + <p>Colwyn formed his plans on his way back to the hotel. He stopped at the office as + he went in to lunch, and informed the lady clerk that he had changed his mind about + leaving, and would keep on his room, but expected to be away in the country for two + or three days. The lady clerk, who had mischievous eyes and wore her hair fluffed, + asked the detective if he had been successful in finding the young lady who had + called to see him. On Colwyn gravely informing her that he had, she smiled. It was + obvious that she scented a romance in the guest's changed plans.</p> + <p>As the detective wished to attract as little attention as possible in the renewed + investigations he was about to make, he decided not to take his car to Flegne. After + lunch he packed a few necessaries in a handbag, and caught the afternoon train to + Heathfield. Arriving at that wayside station, he asked the elderly functionary who + acted as station-master, porter and station cleaner the nearest way across country to + Flegne, and, receiving the most explicit instructions in a thick Norfolk dialect, set + out with his handbag.</p> + <p>The road journey to Flegne was five miles. By the footpath across the fields it + was something less than four, and Colwyn, walking briskly, reached the rise above the + marshes in a little less than an hour. The village on the edge of the marshes looked + grey and cheerless and deserted in the dull afternoon light, and the sighing wind + brought from the North Sea the bitter foretaste of winter. The inn was cut off from + the village by a new ac<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg + 225]</a></span>cession of marsh water which had thrust a slimy tongue across the + road, forming a pool in which frogs were vociferously astir.</p> + <p>As Colwyn descended the rise the front door of the inn opened, and the gaunt + figure of the innkeeper emerged, carrying some fishing lines in his hands. He paused + beneath the inn signboard, the rusty swinging anchor, and looked up at the sky, which + was lowering and black. As he did so, he turned, and saw Colwyn. He waited for him to + approach, and left it to the visitor to speak first. He showed no surprise at + Colwyn's appearance, but his bird-like face did not readily lend itself to the + expression of human emotions. It would have been almost as easy for a toucan to + display joy, grief, or surprise.</p> + <p>"Good afternoon, Benson," said the detective cheerfully. "Going to be rather wet + for a fishing excursion, isn't it?"</p> + <p>"That's just what I can't make up my mind, sir," replied the other. "Clouds like + these do not always mean rain in this part of the world. The clouds seem to gather + over the marshes more, and sometimes they hang like this for days without rain. But I + do not think I'll go fishing to-night. The rain in these parts goes through you in no + time, and there's no shelter on the marshes."</p> + <p>"In that case you'll be able to attend to me."</p> + <p>"I'd do that in any case, sir," replied the other quickly.</p> + <p>"I think of spending a few days here before returning to London. I am interested + in archaeological research, and this part of the Norfolk coast is exceedingly rich in + archaeological and prehistoric remains, as, of course, you are well aware."</p> + <p>"Yes, sir. Many scientific gentlemen used to visit the place at one time. We had + one who stayed at the inn<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg + 226]</a></span> for a short time last year—Dr. Gardiner, perhaps you have heard + of him. He was very interested in the hut circles on the rise, and when he went back + to London he wrote a book about them. Then there was poor Mr. Glenthorpe. He was + never tired of talking of the ancient things which were under the earth + hereabouts."</p> + <p>"Quite so. I should like to make a few investigations on my own account. That is + why I have come over this afternoon. I have left my car and my luggage at Durrington, + where I have been staying, thinking you might find it easier to put me up without + them. I presume you can accommodate me, Benson?"</p> + <p>"Well, sir, you know the place is rough and I haven't much to offer you. But if + you do not mind that——"</p> + <p>"Not in the least. You need not go to any trouble on my account."</p> + <p>"Then, sir, I shall be pleased to do what I can to make you comfortable. Will you + step inside? This way, sir—I must ask Ann about your room before I can take you + upstairs."</p> + <p>The innkeeper opened the door of the bar parlour, and asked Colwyn to excuse him + while he consulted the servant. He returned in a few minutes with Ann lumbering in + his wake. The stout countrywoman bobbed at the sight of the detective, and proceeded + to explain in apologetic tones, with sundry catches of the breath and jelly-like + movements of her fat frame, that she was sorry being caught unawares, and not + expecting visitors, but the fact was that Mr. Colwyn couldn't have the room he slept + in before, because she had given it a good turn out that day, and everything was + upside down, to say nothing of it being as damp as damp could be. There was only poor + Mr. Glenthorpe's room—of course, that wouldn't do—and the room next, + which the poor young<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg + 227]</a></span> gentleman had slept in. Would Mr. Colwyn mind having that room? If he + didn't mind, she could make it quite comfortable, and would have clean sheets aired + in front of the kitchen fire in no time.</p> + <p>Colwyn felt that he had reason to congratulate himself that he had been asked to + occupy the very room which he desired to examine closely. The lucky accident of + turning out the other room would save him a midnight prowl from the one room to the + other, with the possible risk of detection. He told Ann that the room Mr. Penreath + had slept in would do very well, and assured her that she was not to bother on his + account. But Ann was determined to worry, and her mind was no sooner relieved about + the bedroom than she propounded the problem of dinner. She had been taken unawares in + that direction also. There was nothing in the house but a little cold mutton, and + some hare soup left over from the previous day. If she warmed up a plateful of + soup—it was lovely soup, and had set into a perfect jelly—and made + rissoles of the mutton, and sent them to table with some vegetables, with a pudding + to follow; would <i>that</i> do? Colwyn replied smilingly that would do excellently, + and Ann withdrew, promising to serve the meal within an hour.</p> + <p>Colwyn passed that time in the bar parlour. The innkeeper, of his own accord, + brought in some of the famous smuggled brandy, and willingly accepted the detective's + invitation to drink a glass of it. With an old-fashioned long-footed liqueur glass of + the brown brandy in front of him, the innkeeper waxed more loquacious than Colwyn had + yet found him, and related many strange tales of the old smuggling days of the inn, + when cargoes of brandy were landed on the coast, and stowed away in the inn's + subterranean passages almost under the noses of the ex<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span>cise officers. According to local + history, the inn had been built into the hillside to afford better lurking-places, + for those who were continually at variance with His Majesty's excise officers. There + was one local worthy named Cranley, the lawless ancestor of the yeoman who had sold + the piece of land to Mr. Glenthorpe, who was reported to be the most brazen smuggler + in Norfolk, which was saying something, considering the greater portion of the + coastal population were engaged in smuggling in those days.</p> + <p>Cranley was a local hero, with a hero's love for the brandy he smuggled so freely, + and tradition declared of him that on one occasion he set light to some barns and + hayricks in order to warn some of his smuggling companions who were "running a cargo" + that a trap had been laid for them. The farmers who had suffered by the blaze had + sought to carry Cranley before the justices, but he, with a few choice spirits, had + barricaded himself in the inn, defying the countryside for months, subsisting on + bread and brandy, and shooting from the circular windows on the south side of the + house at the soldiers sent to take him. Local tradition varied as to the ultimate + fate of Cranley and his desperate band.</p> + <p>According to some authorities, they escaped through the marshes and put to sea; + but another version of the story declared that they had been captured and tried in + the inn, and then ingloriously hanged, one after the other, from the stanchion + outside the door from which the anchor suspended. This version added the touch that + Cranley's last request was for a bumper of the famous old brandy he had lost his life + for, and when it was given him he quaffed it to the bottom, dashed the cup in the + hangman's face, and swung himself off into eternity. Confirmatory evidence of the + siege of Cranley<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg + 229]</a></span> and his merry men was to be seen in the outside wall, which was + dinted with bullet marks made by the King's troops as they tried to hit the + smugglers, firing through the circular windows.</p> + <p>The innkeeper rambled on in this fashion until the entry of Charles with a + table-cloth reminded him of the flight of time, and he withdrew with a halting + apology for having sat there talking so long. The fat waiter saluted Colwyn with a + grave bow, and proceeded to lay the cloth. When he had done this he left the room and + returned with a bottle of claret, which he put down in front of the fire, and + proceeded to warm the wine, keeping his hand on the bottle as he did so. Then he + lifted the bottle and held it to the light before setting it carefully on the + table.</p> + <p>"Your knowledge of wine is not of much use to you in Flegne, Charles," remarked + Colwyn. "You do not belong to these parts, I fancy."</p> + <p>"No, sir. I'm a Londoner born and bred," replied the waiter, in his soft + whisper.</p> + <p>"Why did you leave it? Londoners, as a rule, prefer their city to any other part + of the world."</p> + <p>"I'd starve there now that my hearing is gone. London takes everything from you, + but gives you nothing in return. I'm only too grateful to Mr. Benson for employing me + here, considering the nature of my affliction. No London hotel would give me a job + now. But though I do say it, sir, I think I make myself useful to Mr. Benson, and + earn my keep and the few shillings he gives me. I save him all the trouble I + can."</p> + <p>This was undoubtedly true, as Colwyn had observed during his former visit to the + inn. The deaf waiter was, to all intents and purposes, the real manager of the inn, + leaving the innkeeper free to pursue his solitary life while<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> he attended to the bar and the + cellar, helped Ann with the work, and waited on infrequent travellers. Doubtless the + arrangement suited both, though it could not have been profitable to either, for + there was little more than a bare living for one in such a place.</p> + <p>Looking up suddenly from his plate, Colwyn caught the waiter's black eyes fixed on + him in a keen penetrating gaze. Meeting the detective's eyes, Charles instantly + lowered his own. But for the latter action Colwyn would have thought nothing of the + incident, for he was aware that Charles, on account of his deafness, had to watch the + lips of people he was serving in order to read their lips. But if Charles had been + merely watching for him to speak he would not have felt impelled to avert his gaze + when detected. The sudden lowering of his eyes was the swift unconscious action of a + man taken by surprise. The detective realised that Charles did not accept the reason + he had given to account for his second visit to the inn. Charles evidently suspected + that that reason masked some ulterior motive.</p> + <p>Colwyn finished his dinner and produced his cigar-case. Selecting a cigar, he lit + it with a match from the box Peggy had given him that day.</p> + <p>"Have you ever seen this box before, Charles?" he said, placing the box on the + table.</p> + <p>The waiter picked up the little silver and enamel box and examined it + attentively.</p> + <p>"I have, sir," he said, handing it back. "It is Mr. Penreath's."</p> + <p>"How do you recognise it?"</p> + <p>"By the letters in enamel, sir. I noticed them that night at the dinner table, + when I was holding Mr. Penreath's candlestick while he lit it with a match from that + box."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span></p> + <p>"Did he put it back in his pocket after lighting the candle?"</p> + <p>"Yes, sir; into his vest pocket."</p> + <p>"It was picked up in Mr. Glenthorpe's room after the murder was committed. A + strong clue, Charles! Many a man has been hanged on less."</p> + <p>"No doubt, sir."</p> + <p>The waiter, balancing a tray on his deformed arm, proceeded to clear the table. + When he had completed his task he asked the detective if he needed him any more, + because if he did not it was time for him to go into the bar. On Colwyn saying that + he needed nothing further he noiselessly withdrew, steadying the loaded tray with his + sound hand.</p> + <p>Colwyn spent the evening sitting by the fire, smoking. It was fortunate he had + plenty to think about, for the inn did not offer any resources in the way of reading + to occupy the mind of the chance visitor to its roof. There were a few books in the + recess by the fireplace, but they consisted of bound volumes of <i>The Norfolk + Sporting Gazette</i> from 1860 to 1870, with an odd volume on <i>Fishing on the + Broads</i> and an obsolete <i>Farmers' Annual</i>. The past occupants of the inn had + evidently been keen sportsmen, for there were specimens of stuffed fowl and fish + ranged in glass cases around the walls, and two old rusty fowling pieces and a + fishing rod hung suspended near the ceiling.</p> + <p>Shortly after nine o'clock the innkeeper entered the room with a candlestick, + which he placed on the table. He explained that it was his custom to go upstairs + early, in order to sit with his mother for a little while before he retired. The poor + soul looked for it, he said, and grew restless if he was late.</p> + <p>"Who is sitting with her at present?" inquired the detective.<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span></p> + <p>"My daughter, sir. She always waits till I go up."</p> + <p>"You never leave her alone, then?"</p> + <p>"Only at night-time, sir. The doctor told me she could be safely left at night. + She sleeps fairly well, considering, though when there's wild weather I always go in + to her. The sound of the wind shrieking across the marshes from the sea excites her, + and we get a lot of that sort of weather on the Norfolk coast, particularly in the + winter months. I wish I could afford to have her better looked after, but I cannot, + and that's the long and short of it."</p> + <p>"Things are pretty bad with you, Benson?"</p> + <p>"Very bad, indeed, sir. It keeps me awake at night, wondering where it's all going + to end. However, I don't want to burden you with my troubles—I suppose we all + have our own to bear. I merely came in to bring your candlestick, and to ask you if + there is anything you want before I go to bed. Charles is gone to his room, but Ann + is still up."</p> + <p>"Tell Ann she need not sit up on my account. I need nothing further, and I can + find my way to my room. Is it ready yet?"</p> + <p>"Quite, sir. Ann has just been up there, putting on some fresh sheets. Perhaps you + wouldn't mind turning off the gas at the meter as you go up—it is just + underneath the stairs. If you would not mind the trouble Ann could then go to bed. We + keep early hours here, as a rule. There is nothing to sit up for."</p> + <p>"I'll turn off the gas—I know where the meter is. How is it, Benson, that + the gas is laid on in only two of the rooms upstairs—the rooms Mr. Glenthorpe + used to occupy? It would have been an easy matter to lay it on to the adjoining + rooms, once the pipes had been taken upstairs."<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span></p> + <p>"That's quite true, sir, but the gas was taken upstairs on Mr. Glenthorpe's + account, shortly after he came here. He thought he would like it, and he paid the + bill for having it fixed. But after it was laid on he rarely used it. He said he + found the gaslight trying for his eyes when he wanted to read in bed, so he got a + reading lamp."</p> + <p>"And yet the gas tap was partly turned on in his room the morning after the + murder," remarked Colwyn meditatively.</p> + <p>"Perhaps the murderer turned it on," suggested the innkeeper in a low tone.</p> + <p>But there was a slight tremor in his voice that did not escape the keen ears of + the detective.</p> + <p>"That is possible, but the point was not cleared up at the trial; it probably + never will be now," he replied, eyeing the innkeeper attentively. "And the + incandescent burner was broken too. Have you had a new burner attached, Benson?"</p> + <p>"No, sir. The room has never been used since."</p> + <p>"It's a queer thing about that broken burner. That's another point in this case + that was not cleared up at the trial. Who do you think broke it?"</p> + <p>"How should I know, sir?" His bird's eyes, in their troubled shadow, turned + uneasily from the detective's glance.</p> + <p>"Nevertheless, you can hazard an opinion. Why not? The case is over and done with + now, and Penreath—or Ronald, as he called himself—is condemned to death. + So who do you think broke that burner, Benson?"</p> + <p>"Who else but the murderer, sir?"</p> + <p>"That's the police theory, I know, but I doubt whether Penreath was tall enough to + strike it with his head. It's more than six feet from the ground." The detective + threw a critical glance over the innkeeper's figure as<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> though he were measuring his height + with his eye. "You are well over six feet, Benson—you might have done it."</p> + <p>It was a chance shot, but the effect was remarkable. The innkeeper swung his small + head on the top of his long neck in the direction of the detective, with a strange + gesture, like a pinioned eagle twisting in a trap.</p> + <p>"What makes you say that!" he cried, and his voice had a new and strident note. "I + had nothing whatever to do with it."</p> + <p>"What do you mean?" replied the detective sternly. "What do you suppose I am + suggesting?"</p> + <p>"I beg your pardon, sir," replied the other. "The fact is I have not been myself + for some time past."</p> + <p>His voice broke off in an odd tremor, and Colwyn noticed that the long thin hand + he stretched out, as though to deprecate his previous violence, was shaking + violently.</p> + <p>"What's the matter with you, man?" The detective eyed him keenly. "Your nerve has + gone."</p> + <p>"I know it has, sir. What happened in this house a fortnight ago upset me + terribly, and I haven't got over it yet. I have other troubles as well—private + troubles. I've had to sit up with mother a good deal lately."</p> + <p>"You'd better take a few doses of bromide," said the detective brusquely. "A man + with your nerves should not live in a place like this. You had better go to bed now. + Good night."</p> + <p>"Good night, sir." The innkeeper hurried out of the room without another word.</p> + <p>Colwyn sat by the fire for some time longer pondering over this unexpected + incident, until the kitchen clock chiming eleven warned him to go to bed. He turned + off the gas at the meter underneath the stairs as Benson had requested. When he + reached the room in which Mr.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" + id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> Glenthorpe had been murdered, he paused outside the + door, and turned the handle. The door was locked.</p> + <p>As he was about to enter the adjoining bedroom which had been allotted to him, a + slender pencil of light pierced the darkness of the passage leading off the one in + which he stood. As he watched the gleam grew brighter and broader; somebody was + walking along the other passage. A moment later the innkeeper's daughter came into + view, carrying a candle. She advanced quickly to where the detective was + standing.</p> + <p>"I heard you coming upstairs," she explained, in a whisper. "I have been waiting + and listening at my door. I wanted to see you, but it is difficult for me to do so + without the others knowing. So I thought I would wait. I wanted to let you know that + if you wish to see me at any time—if you need me to do anything—perhaps + you would put a note under my door, and I could meet you down by the breakwater at + any time you appoint. Nobody would see us there."</p> + <p>Colwyn nodded approvingly. Decidedly this girl was not lacking in resource and + intelligence.</p> + <p>"I am so glad you are here," she went on earnestly. "I was afraid, after I left + you to-day, that you might change your mind. I waited at one of the upstairs windows + all the afternoon till I saw you coming. You will save him, won't you?"</p> + <p>She looked up at him with a faint smile, which, slight as it was, gave her face a + new rare beauty.</p> + <p>"I will try," responded Colwyn, gravely. "Can you tell where the key of Mr. + Glenthorpe's room is kept?"</p> + <p>"It hangs in the kitchen. Do you want it? I will get it for you. If Ann or Charles + see me, they, will not think it as strange as if they saw you."</p> + <p>She was so eager to be of use to him that she did not<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> wait for his reply, but ran quickly + and noiselessly along the passage, and down the stairs. In a very brief space she + returned with the key, which she placed in his hand. "Is there anything else I can + do?" she asked.</p> + <p>"Nothing, except to tell me where you got the key. I want to put it back again + without anybody knowing it has been used."</p> + <p>"It hangs on the kitchen dresser—the second hook. You cannot mistake it, + because there is a padlock key and one of my father's fishing lines hanging on the + same hook."</p> + <p>"Then that is all you can do. I will let you know if I want to see you at any + time."</p> + <p>"Thank you. Good night!" She was gone without another word.</p> + <p>Colwyn stood at his door watching her until she disappeared into the passage which + led to her own room. Then he turned into his bedroom and shut the door behind + him.</p> + <p>He walked to the window and threw it open. The sea mist, driving over the silent + marshes like a cloud, touched his face coldly as he stood there, meditating on the + strange turn of events which had brought him back to the inn to pursue his + investigations into the murder at the point where he had left them more than a + fortnight before. In that brief period how much had happened! Penreath had been tried + and sentenced to death for a crime which Colwyn now believed he had not committed. + Chance—no, Destiny—by placing in his hand a significant clue, had + directed his footsteps thither, and left it for his intelligence to atone for his + past blunder before it was too late.</p> + <p>It was with a feeling that the hand of Destiny was upon him that Colwyn turned + from the window and re<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg + 237]</a></span>garded the little room with keen curiosity. Its drab interior held a + secret which was a challenge to his intelligence to discover. What had happened in + that room the night Ronald slept there? He noted the articles of furniture one by + one. Nothing seemed changed since he had last been in the room, the day after the + murder was committed. There was a washstand near the window, a chest of drawers, a + dressing table and a large wardrobe at the side of the bed. Colwyn looked at this + last piece of furniture with the same interest he had felt when he saw it the first + time. It was far too big and cumbrous a wardrobe for so small a room, about eight + feet high and five feet in width, and it was placed in the most inconvenient part of + the room, by the side of the bed, not far from the wall which abutted on the passage. + He opened its double doors and looked within. The wardrobe was empty.</p> + <p>Colwyn made a methodical search of the room in the hope of discovering something + which would throw light on the events of the night of the murder. Doubtless the room + had not been occupied since Penreath had slept there, and he might have left + something behind him—perhaps some forgotten scrap of paper which might help to + throw light on this strange and sinister mystery. In the detection of crime seeming + trifles often lead to important discoveries, as nobody was better aware than Colwyn. + But though he searched the room with painstaking care, he found nothing.</p> + <p>It was while he was thus engaged that a faint rustle aroused his attention, and + looking towards the corner of the room whence it proceeded, he saw a large rat + crouching by the skirting-board watching him with malevolent eyes. Colwyn looked + round for a weapon with which to hit it. The creature seemed to divine his in<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span>tentions, for it + scuttled squeaking across the room, and disappeared behind the wardrobe.</p> + <p>Colwyn approached the wardrobe and pushed it back. As he did so, he had a curious + sensation which he could hardly define. It was as though an unseen presence had + entered the room, and was silently watching him. His actions seemed not of his own + volition; it was as though some force stronger than himself was urging him on. And, + withal, he had the uncanny feeling that the whole incident of the rat and the + wardrobe, and his share in it, was merely a repetition of something which had + happened in the room before.</p> + <p>The wardrobe moved much more easily than he had expected, considering its weight + and size. There was no rat behind it, but a hole under the skirting showed where the + animal had made its escape. But it was the space where the wardrobe had stood that + claimed Colwyn's attention. The reason why it had been placed in its previous + position was made plain. The damp had penetrated the wall on that side, and had so + rotted the wall paper that a large portion of it had fallen away.</p> + <p>In the bare portion of the wall thus revealed, about two feet square, was a wooden + trap door, fastened by a button. Colwyn unfastened the button, and opened the door. A + black hole gaped at him.</p> + <p>The light of the candle showed that the wall was hollow, and the trap opened into + the hollow space. There was nothing unusual in such a door in an old house; Colwyn + had seen similar doors in other houses built with the old-fashioned thick walls. It + was the primitive ventilation of a past generation; the doors, when opened, permitted + a free current of air to percolate through the building, and get to the foundations. + But a further examination of the hole revealed something which Colwyn<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> had never seen + before—a corresponding door on the other side of the wall. The other door + opened into the bedroom which had been occupied by Mr. Glenthorpe. Colwyn pushed it + with his hand, but it did not yield. It was doubtless fastened with a button on the + outside, like the other.</p> + <p>Colwyn, scrutinising the second door closely, noticed that the wood was worm-eaten + and shrunken. For that reason it fitted but loosely into the aperture of the wall, + and on the one side there was a wide crack which arrested Colwyn's attention. It ran + the whole length of the door, along the top—that is, horizontally—and + was, perhaps, a quarter of an inch wide.</p> + <p>With the tightened nerves which presage an important discovery, Colwyn felt for + his pocket knife, opened the largest blade, and thrust it into the crack. It + penetrated up to the handle. He ran the knife along the whole length of the crack + without difficulty. There was no doubt it opened into the next room.</p> + <p>Colwyn closed the trap-door carefully, and started to push the wardrobe back into + its previous position. As he did so, his eye fell upon several tiny scraps of paper + lying in the vacant space. He stooped, and picked them up. They were the torn + fragments of a pocket-book leaf, which had been written upon. Colwyn endeavoured to + place the fragments together and read the writing. But some of the pieces were + missing, and he could only decipher two disjointed words—"Constance" and + "forgive."</p> + <p>Slowly, almost mechanically, the detective felt for his pipe, lit it, and stood + for a long time at the open window, gazing with set eyes into the brooding darkness, + wrapped in profound thought, thinking of his discoveries and what they + portended.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg + 240]</a></span></p> + <hr style="width: 35%;" size="6" /> + <h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX</h2> + <p>Colwyn was astir with the first glimmering of a grey dawn. He wanted to test the + police theory that the murder was committed by climbing from one bedroom to the + other, but he did not desire to be discovered in the experiment by any of the inmates + of the inn.</p> + <p>The window of his bedroom was so small that it was difficult to get through, and + there was a drop of more than eight feet from the ledge to the hillside. After one or + two attempts Colwyn got out feet foremost, and when half way through wriggled his + body round until he was able to grasp the window-ledge and drop to the ground. The + fall caused his heels to sink deeply into the clay of the hillside, which was moist + and sticky after the rain.</p> + <p>Colwyn closely examined the impression his heels had made, and then walked along + until he stood underneath the window of the next room. It was an easy matter to climb + through this window, which was larger, and closer to the ground—five feet from + the hillside, at the most. Colwyn sprang on to the ledge, and tried the window with + his hand. It was unlocked. He pushed up the lower pane, and entered the room.</p> + <p>From the window he walked straight to the bedside, noting, as he walked, that his + footsteps left on the carpet crumbs of the red earth from outside, similar to those + which had been found in the room the morning after the murder. He next examined the + broken incandescent burner in the chandelier in the middle of the room, and took + careful measurements of the distances between the<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> gas jet, the bedside and the door, + observing, as he did so, that the gaslight was almost in a line with the foot of the + bed. That was a point he had marked previously when Superintendent Galloway had + suggested that the incandescent burner was broken by the murderer striking it with + the corpse he was carrying. Colwyn had found it difficult to accept that point of + view at the time, but now, in the light of recent discoveries, and the new theory of + the crime which was gradually taking shape in his mind, it seemed almost incredible + that the murderer, staggering under the weight of his ghastly burden, should have + taken anything but the shortest track to the door.</p> + <p>After examining the bed with an attentive eye, Colwyn next looked for the small + door in the wall. It was not apparent: the wall-paper appeared to cover the whole of + the wall on that side of the room in unbroken continuity. But a closer inspection + revealed a slight fissure or crack, barely noticeable in the dark green wall-paper, + extending an inch or so beyond a small picture suspended near the door of the room. + When the picture was taken down the crack was more apparent, for it ran nearly the + whole length of the space. The door had been papered over when the room was last + papered, which was a long time ago, judging by the dingy condition of the wall-paper, + and the crack had been caused by the shrinking of the woodwork of the door, as Colwyn + had noticed the previous night.</p> + <p>Colwyn let himself out of the room with the key Peggy had given him, locked the + door behind him, and took the key down to the kitchen. It was still very early, and + nobody was stirring. Having hung the key on the hook of the dresser, he returned to + his room.</p> + <p>At breakfast time that morning Charles informed him,<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> in his husky whisper, that he had + to go over to Heathfield that day, to ascertain why the brewer had not sent a + consignment of beer, which was several days overdue. Charles' chief regret was that + for some hours his guest would be left to the tender mercies of Ann, and he let it be + understood that he had the poorest opinion of women as waitresses. But he promised to + return in time to minister to Colwyn's comforts at dinner. Somewhat amused, Colwyn + told the fat man not to hurry back on his account, as Ann could look after him very + well.</p> + <p>As Colwyn was smoking a cigar in front of the inn after breakfast, he saw Charles + setting out on his journey, and watched his short fat form toil up the rise and + disappear on the other side. Immediately afterwards, the gaunt figure of the + innkeeper emerged from the inn, prepared for a fishing excursion. He hesitated a + moment on seeing Colwyn, then walked towards him and informed him that he was going + to have a morning's fishing in a river stream a couple of miles away, having heard + good accounts in the bar overnight of the fish there since the recent rain.</p> + <p>"Who will look after the inn, with both you and Charles away?" asked Colwyn, with + a smile.</p> + <p>The innkeeper, carefully bestowing a fishing-line in the capacious side pocket of + his faded tweed coat, replied that as the inn was out of beer, and not likely to have + any that day, there was not much lost by leaving it. That seemed to exhaust the + possibilities of the conversation, but the innkeeper lingered, looking at his guest + as though he had something on his mind.</p> + <p>"I do not know if you care for fishing, sir," he remarked, after a rather lengthy + pause. "If you do, I should be happy at any time to show you a little sport.<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> The fishing is + very good about this district—as good as anywhere in Norfolk."</p> + <p>Colwyn was quick to divine what was passing in the innkeeper's mind. He had been + brooding over the incident in the bar parlour of the previous night, and hoped by + this awkward courtesy to remove the impression of his overnight rudeness from his + visitor's mind. As Colwyn was equally desirous of allaying his fears, he thanked him + for his offer, and stood chatting with him for some moments. His pleasant and natural + manner had the effect of putting the innkeeper at his ease, and there was an obvious + air of relief in his bearing as he wished the detective good morning and departed on + his fishing expedition.</p> + <p>Colwyn spent the morning in a solitary walk along the marshes, thinking over the + events of the night and morning. He returned to the inn for an early lunch, which was + served by Ann, who gossiped to him freely of the small events which had constituted + the daily life of the village since his previous visit. The principal of these, it + seemed, had been the reappearance, after a long period of inaction, of the White Lady + of the Shrieking Pit—an apparition which haunted the hut circles on the rise. + Colwyn, recalling that Duney and Backlos imagined they had encountered a spectre the + night they saw Penreath on the edge of the wood, asked Ann who the "White Lady" was + supposed to be. Ann was reticent at first. She admitted that she was a firm believer + in the local tradition, which she had imbibed with her mother's milk, but it was held + to be unlucky to talk about the White Lady. However, her feminine desire to impart + information soon overcame her fears, and she launched forth into full particulars of + the legend. It appeared that for generations past the deep pit on the<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> rise in which + Mr. Glenthorpe's body had been thrown had been the haunt of a spirit known as the + White Lady, who, from time to time, issued from the depths of the pit, clad in a + white trailing garment, to wander along the hut circles on the rise, shrieking and + sobbing piteously. Whose ghost she was, and why she shrieked, Ann was unable to say. + Her appearances were infrequent, with sometimes as long as a year between them, and + the timely warning she gave of her coming by shrieking from the depths of the pit + before making her appearance, enabled folk to keep indoors and avoid her when she was + walking. As long as she wasn't seen by anybody, not much harm was done, but the sight + of her was fatal to the beholder, who was sure to come to a swift and violent + end.</p> + <p>Ann related divers accredited instances of calamity which had followed swiftly + upon an encounter with the White Lady, including that of her own sister's husband, + who had seen her one night going home, and the very next day had been kicked by a + horse and killed on the spot. Ann's grandmother, when a young girl, had heard her + shrieking one night when she was going home, but had had the presence of mind to fall + flat on her face until the shrieking had ceased, by which means she avoided seeing + her, and had died comfortably in her bed at eighty-one in consequence.</p> + <p>Colwyn gathered from the countrywoman's story that the prevailing impression in + the village was that Mr. Glenthorpe's murder was due to the interposition of the + White Lady of the Shrieking Pit. The White Lady, after a long silence, had been heard + to shriek once two nights before the murder, but the warning had not deterred Mr. + Glenthorpe from taking his nightly walk on the rise, although Ann, out of her liking + and respect for the old gentle<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" + id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span>man, had even ventured to forget her place and beg + and implore him not to go. But he had laughed at her, and said if he met the White + Lady he would stop and have a chat with her about her ancestors. Those were his very + words, and they made her blood run cold at the time, though she little thought how + soon he would be repenting of his foolhardiness in his coffin. If he had only + listened to her he might have been alive that blessed day, for she hadn't the + slightest doubt he met the White Lady that night in his walk, and his doom was + brought about in consequence.</p> + <p>Ann concluded by solemnly urging Colwyn, as long as he remained at the inn, to + keep indoors at night as he valued his life, for ever since the murder the White Lady + had been particularly active, shrieking nearly every night, as though seeking another + victim, and the whole village was frightened to stir out in consequence. Ann had + reluctantly to admit that she had never actually heard her shrieking + herself—she was a heavy sleeper at any time—but there were those who had, + plenty of them. Besides, hadn't he heard that Charles, while shutting up the inn the + very night poor Mr. Glenthorpe's body had been taken away, had seen something white + on the rise? On Colwyn replying that he had not heard this, Ann assured him the whole + village believed that Charles had seen the White Lady, and regarded him as good as + dead, and many were the speculations as to the manner in which his inevitable fate + would fall.</p> + <p>The relation of the legend of the White Lady lasted to the conclusion of lunch, + and then Colwyn sauntered outside with a cigar, in order to make another examination + of the ground the murderer had covered in going to the pit. The body had been carried + out the back way, across the green which separated the inn from the village,<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> and up the rise + to the pit. The green was now partly under water, and the track of the footprints + leading to the rise had been obliterated by the heavy rains which had fallen since, + but the soft surface retained the impression of Colwyn's footsteps with the same + distinctness with which it had held, and afterwards revealed, the track of the man + who had carried the corpse to the pit.</p> + <p>Colwyn examined the pit closely. The edges were wet and slippery, and in places + the earth had been washed away. The sides, for some distance down, were lined with a + thick growth of shrubs and birch. Colwyn knelt down on the edge and peered into the + interior of the pit. He tested the strength of the climbing and creeping plants which + twisted in snakelike growth in the interior. It seemed to him that it would be a + comparatively easy matter to descend into the pit by their support, so far as they + went. But how far did they go?</p> + <p>While he was thus occupied he heard the sound of footsteps crashing through the + undergrowth of the little wood on the other side of the pit. A moment later a man, + carrying a rabbit, and followed by a mongrel dog, came into view. It was Duney. He + stared hard at Colwyn and then advanced towards him with a grin of recognition.</p> + <p>"Yow be lookin' to see how t'owd ma'aster was hulled dune th' pit?" he asked.</p> + <p>"I was wondering how far the pit ran straight down," replied Colwyn. "It seems to + take a slight slope a little way down. Does it?"</p> + <p>"I doan't know narthin' about th' pit, and I doan't want to," replied Mr. Duney, + backing away with a slightly pale face. "Doan't yow meddle wi' un, ma'aster. It's a + quare place, thissun."</p> + <p>"Why, what's the matter with it?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" + id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span></p> + <p>"Did you never hear that th' pit's haunted? Like enough nobody'd tell yow. Folk + hereabowts aren't owerfond of talkin' of th' White Lady of th' Shrieking Pit, for + fear it should bring un bad luck."</p> + <p>"I've been hearing a little about her to-day. Is she any relation of Black Shuck, + the ghost dog you were telling me about?"</p> + <p>"It's no larfin' matter, ma'aster. You moind the day me and Billy Backlog come and + towld yow about us seein' that chap on th' edge of yon wood that night? Well, just + befower we seed un we heerd th' rummiest kind of noise—summat atween a moan and + a shriek, comin' from this 'ere pit. I reckon, from what's happened to that chap + Ronald since, that it wor the White Lady of th' Pit we heered. It's lucky for us we + didn't see un."</p> + <p>"I remember at the time you mentioned something about it."</p> + <p>"Ay, she be a terr'ble bad sperrit," said Mr. Duney, wagging his head unctuously. + "She comes out of this yare pit wheer t'owd man was chucked, and wanders about the + wood and th' rise, a-yellin' somefin awful. It's nowt to hear her—we've all + heerd her for that matter—but to see her is to meet a bloody and violent end + within the month. That's why they call this 'ere pit 'the Shrieking Pit.' I'm + thinkin' that owd Mr. Glenthorpe, who was allus fond of walkin' up this way at + nights, met her one night, and that'll account for his own bloody end. And it's my + belief that she appeared to the young chap who was hidin' in th' woods the night we + saw un. And look what's happened to un! He's got to be hanged, which is a violent + end, thow p'r'aps not bloody."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" + id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span></p> + <p>"If that's the local belief, I wonder anybody went down into the pit to recover + Mr. Glenthorpe's body."</p> + <p>"Nobody wouldn't 'a' gone down but Herward. I wouldn't 'a' gone down for untowd + gowd, but Herward comes from th' Broads, and don't know nartin' about this part of + the ma'shes. Besides, he ain't no Christian, down't care for no ghosts nor sperrits. + I've often heerd un say so."</p> + <p>"Is it true that the White Lady has been seen since Mr. Glenthorpe was + murdered?"</p> + <p>"She's been heered, shure enough. Billy Backlog, who lives closest to the rise, + was a-tellin' us in the <i>Anchor</i> bar that she woke him up two nights arter th' + murder, a-yowlin' like an old tomcat, but Billy knew it worn't a cat—it weer + far more fearsome, wi gasps at th' end. The deaf fat chap at Benson's arst him what + time this might be. Billy said he disremembered th' time—mebbe it wor ten or a + bit past. Then the fat chap said it wor just about that time the same night, as he + wor shuttin' up, he saw somefin white float up to th' top of th' pit. He thowt at th' + time it might be mist, thow there weren't much mist on th' ma'shes that night, but + now he says 'es sure that it wor the White Lady from the Shrieking Pit that he saw. + 'Then Gawdamighty help yow, poor fat chap,' says Billy, looking at him solemn-like. + 'The hearin' of her is narthin', it's th' seein' o' her that's the trouble.' The poor + fat chap a' been nigh skeered out o' his wits ever since, and nobody in th' village + wud go near th' pit a' nighttimes—no, not for a fortin. I ain't sure as it's + safe to be here even in daytimes, thow I never heered of her comin' out in the + light." Mr. Duney turned resolutely away from the pit, and called to his dog, who was + sitting near the edge, regarding his master with blinking eyes and lolling tongue. + "I'll be goin', in case that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" + id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> Queensmead sees me from th' village. I cot this + coney fair and square in th' open, but it be hard to make Queensmead believe it. + Well, I'll be goin'. Good mornin', ma'aster."</p> + <p>He trudged away across the rise, with his dog following at his heels. Colwyn was + about to turn away also, when his eye was caught by a scrap of stained and + discoloured paper lying near the edge of the pit, where the rain had washed away some + of the earth. He stooped, and picked it up. It was a slip of white paper, about five + inches long, and perhaps three inches in width, quite blank, but with a very apparent + watermark, consisting of a number of parallel waving lines, close together, running + across the surface. Although the watermark was an unusual one, it seemed strangely + familiar to Colwyn, who tried to recall where he had seen it before. But memory is a + tricky thing. Although Colwyn's memory instantly recognised the watermark on the + paper, he could not, for the moment, recollect where he had seen it, though it seemed + as familiar to him as the face of some old acquaintance whose name he had temporarily + forgotten. Colwyn ultimately gave up the effort for the time being, and placed the + piece of paper in his pocket-book, knowing that his memory would, sooner or later, + perform unconsciously the task it refused to undertake when asked.</p> + <p>Colwyn spent the afternoon in another solitary walk, and darkness had set in + before he returned to the village. As he reached the inn he glanced towards the hut + circles, and was startled to see something white move slowly along by the edge of the + Shrieking Pit and vanish in the wood. There was something so weird and ghostly in the + spectacle that Colwyn was momentarily astounded by it. Then his eye fell on the sea + mist which covered the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg + 250]</a></span> marshes in a white shroud, and he smiled slightly. It was not the + White Lady of the Shrieking Pit he had seen, but a spiral of mist, floating across + the rise.</p> + <p>The sight brought back to his mind the stories he had heard that day, and when he + was seated at dinner a little later he casually asked Charles if he believed in + ghosts. The fat man, with a sudden uplifting of his black eyes, as though to + ascertain whether Colwyn was speaking seriously, replied that he did not.</p> + <p>"I'm surprised to hear of your scepticism, Charles, for I'm told that the + apparition from the pit—the White Lady, as she is called—has favoured you + with a special appearance," said Colwyn, in a bantering tone.</p> + <p>"I see what you mean now, sir. I didn't understand you at first. It was like this: + some of the villagers were talking about this ghost in the bar a few nights back, and + one or two of the villagers, who all firmly believed in it, declared that they had + heard her wandering about the previous night, moaning and shrieking, as is supposed + to be her custom. I, more by way of a joke than anything else, told them I had seen + something white on the rise the previous night, when I was shutting up the inn. But + the whole village has got it into their heads that I saw the White Lady, and they + think because I've seen her I'm a doomed man. The country folk round about here are + an ignorant and superstitious lot, sir."</p> + <p>"And did you actually see anything, Charles, the night you speak of?"</p> + <p>"I saw something, sir—something long and white—like a moving white + pillar, if I may so express myself. While I looked it vanished into the woods."</p> + <p>"It was probably mist. I saw something similar this evening!"</p> + <p>"Very likely, sir. I do not think it was a ghost."<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span></p> + <p>Colwyn did not pursue the subject further, though he was struck by the wide + difference between Charles' account of the incident and that given to him by Duney at + the pit that afternoon.</p> + <p>When Charles had cleared the table Colwyn sat smoking and thinking until late. + After he was sure that the rest of the inmates of the inn had retired, he went to the + kitchen and took the key of Mr. Glenthorpe's room from the hook of the dresser. When + he reached his own bedroom, his first act was to push back the wardrobe and open the + trap door he had discovered the previous night. He looked at his watch, and found + that the hour was a little after eleven. He decided to wait for half an hour before + carrying out the experiment he contemplated. By midnight he would be fairly safe from + the fear of discovery. He lay down on his bed to pass the intervening time, but he + was so tired that he fell asleep almost immediately.</p> + <p>He awakened with a start, and sat up, staring into the black darkness. For a + moment or two he did not realise his surroundings, then the sound of stealthy + footsteps passing his door brought him back to instant wakefulness. The footsteps + halted—outside his door, it seemed to Colwyn. There followed the sound of a + hand fumbling with a lock, followed by the shooting of a bolt and the creaking of a + door. The truth flashed upon the detective; somebody was entering the next room. As + he listened, there was the scrape of a match, and a moment later a narrow shaft of + light streamed through the open wall-door into his room.</p> + <p>Colwyn got noiselessly off his bed and looked through the crack in the inner small + door into the other room. The picture on the other side of the wall narrowed his + range of vision, but through the inch or so of crack ex<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span>tending beyond the picture he was + able to see clearly that portion of the adjoining bedroom in which the bed stood. + Near the bed, examining with the light of a candle the contents of the writing table + which stood alongside of it, was Benson, the innkeeper.</p> + <p>He was searching for something—rummaging through the drawers of the table, + taking out papers and envelopes, and tearing them open with a furious desperate + energy, pausing every now and again to look hurriedly over his shoulder, as though he + expected to see some apparition start up from the shadowy corners. The search was + apparently fruitless, for presently he crammed the papers back into the drawers with + the same feverish haste, and, walking rapidly across the room, passed out of the view + of the watcher on the other side, for the picture which hung on the inside wall + prevented Colwyn seeing beyond the foot of the bed. Although the innkeeper could not + now be seen, the sound of his stealthy quick movements, and the flickering lights + cast by the candle he carried, suggested plainly enough that he was continuing his + search in that portion of the room which was not visible through the crack.</p> + <p>In a few minutes he came back into Colwyn's range of vision, looking dusty and + dishevelled, with drops of perspiration starting from his face. With a savage + gesture, which was akin to despair, he wiped the perspiration from his face, and + tossed back his long hair from his forehead. It was the first time Colwyn had seen + his forehead uncovered, and a thrill ran through him as he noticed a deep bruise high + upon the left temple. The next moment the innkeeper walked swiftly out of the room, + and Colwyn heard him close the door softly behind him.</p> + <p>Colwyn waited awhile. When everything seemed quiet, he cautiously opened his door + in the dark, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg + 253]</a></span> tried the door of the adjoining room. It was locked.</p> + <p>The innkeeper, then, had another key which fitted the murdered man's door. And + what was he searching for? Money? The treasury notes which Mr. Glenthorpe had drawn + out of the bank the day he was murdered, which had never been found? + Money—notes!</p> + <p>By one of those hidden and unaccountable processes of the human brain, the + association of ideas recalled to Colwyn's mind where he had previously seen the + peculiar watermark of waving lines visible on the piece of paper he had picked up at + the brink of the pit that afternoon: it was the Government watermark of the first + issue of War Treasury notes.</p> + <p>Colwyn lit his bedroom candle, and examined the piece of paper in his pocket-book + with a new and keen interest. There was no doubt about it, the mark on the dirty + blank paper was undoubtedly the Treasury watermark. But how came such a mark, + designed exclusively for the protection of the Treasury against bank-note forgeries, + to appear on a dirty scrap of paper?</p> + <p>As he stood there, turning the bit of paper over and over, in his hand, puzzling + over the problem, the solution flashed into his mind—a solution so simple, yet, + withal, so remarkable, that he hesitated to believe it possible. But a further + examination of the paper removed his doubts. Chance had placed in his hands another + clue, and the most important he had yet discovered, to help him in the elucidation of + the mystery of the murder of Roger Glenthorpe. But to verify that clue it would be + necessary for him to descend the pit.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" + id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span></p> + <hr style="width: 35%;" size="6" /> + <h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI</h2> + <p>An orange crescent of a waning moon was sinking in a black sky as Colwyn let + himself quietly out of the door and took his way up to the rise. But the darkness of + the night was fading fast before the grey dawn of the coming day, and in the marshes + below the birds were beginning to stir and call among the reeds.</p> + <p>Colwyn waited for the first light of dawn before attempting the descent of the + pit. His plan was to climb down by the creepers as far as they went, and descend the + remainder of the distance by the rope, which he would fasten to one of the shrubs + growing in the interior. He realised that his chances of success depended on the + slope of the pit and the depth to which the shrubs grew, but the attempt was well + worth making. Assistance would have made the task much easier, but publicity was the + thing Colwyn desired most to avoid at that stage of his investigations. There would + be time enough to consider the question of seeking help if he failed in his + individual effort.</p> + <p>He made his plans carefully before commencing the descent. He first tested a rope + he had found in the lumber room of the inn; it was thin but strong and capable of + bearing the weight of a heavier man than himself. The rope was not more than fifteen + feet in length, but if the hardy climbing plants which lined the sides of the pit + were capable of supporting him ten or twelve feet down, that length should be + sufficient for his purpose. Having tested the rope and coiled it, he<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> slipped it into + the right-hand pocket of his coat with one end hanging out. Next he opened his knife, + and placed it with a candle and a box of matches in his other pocket. Then turning on + his electric torch, he lowered himself cautiously into the pit by the creepers which + fringed the surface.</p> + <p>There was no difficulty about the descent for the first eight or ten feet. Then + the shrubs that had afforded foothold for his feet suddenly ceased, and the foot that + he had thrust down for another perch touched nothing but the slippery side of the + pit. Clinging firmly with his left hand to the network of vegetation which grew above + his head, Colwyn flashed his electric torch into the blackness of the pit beneath + him. One or two long tendrils of the climbing plants which grew higher up dangled + like pendulous snakes, but the vegetable growth ceased at that point. Beneath him the + naked sides of the pit gleamed sleek and wet in the rays of the torch.</p> + <p>Pulling himself up a little way to gain a securer footing, Colwyn took the coil of + rope from his pocket, and selecting a strong withe which hung near him, sought to + fasten the end of the rope to it. It took him some time to do this with the hand he + had at liberty, but at length he accomplished it to his satisfaction, and then he + allowed the coils of the rope to fall into the pit. He next essayed to test the + strength of the support, by pulling at it. To his disappointment, his first vigorous + tug snapped the withe to which the rope was attached. He tied the rope to a stronger + growth, but with no better result: the growths seemed brittle, and incapable of + bearing a great strain when tested separately. It was the twisted network of the + withes and twigs which gave the climbing plants inside the pit sufficient toughness + to support his weight. Taken singly, they had very little strength.<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span></p> + <p>Colwyn reluctantly realised that it would be folly to endeavour to attempt the + further descent of the pit by their frail support, and he decided to relinquish the + attempt.</p> + <p>As he was about to ascend, the light of the torch brought into view that part of + the pit to which he was clinging, and he noticed that the testing of the withes had + torn away a portion of the leafy screen, revealing the black and slimy surface of the + pit's side. Colwyn was amazed to see a small peg, with a fishing line attached to it, + sticking in the bare earth thus exposed. Somebody had been down the pit and placed it + there—recently, judging by the appearance of the peg, which was clean and newly + cut. What was at the other end of the line, which dangled in the darkness of the pit? + A better hiding place for anything valuable could not have been devised. The thin + fishing line was indiscernible against the slimy side of the pit, and Colwyn realised + that he would never have discovered it had it not been for the lucky accident which + had exposed the peg to which the line was anchored. A place of concealment chosen at + the expense of so much trouble and risk indicated something well worth concealing, + and it was with a strong premonition of what was suspended down the pit that the + detective, taking a firmer hold of the twining tendrils above his head, began to haul + up the line. The weight at the end was slight; the line came up readily enough, foot + after foot running through his hand, and then, finally, a small oblong packet, firmly + fastened and knotted to the end of the line.</p> + <p>Colwyn examined the packet by the light of the torch. It was a man's pocket-book + of black morocco leather, a large and serviceable article, thick and heavy. The + detective did not need the information conveyed by the initials "R. G." stamped in + silver lettering on one side,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" + id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> to enlighten him as to the owner of the pocket-book + and what it contained.</p> + <p>Removing the peg from the earth, Colwyn was about to place the pocket-book and the + line in his pocket, but on second thoughts he restored the peg to its former + position, and endeavoured to untie the knots by which the pocket-book was fastened to + the line. It was difficult to do this with one hand, but, by placing the pocket-book + in his pocket, and picking at the knots one by one, he at length unfastened it from + the line. He tied his own pocket-book to the end of the line, and dropped it back + into the pit. He next replaced the greenery torn from the spot where the peg rested. + When he had restored, as far as he could, the original appearance of the hiding + place, he ascended swiftly to the surface.</p> + <p>The first act, on reaching the fresh air, was to examine the contents of the + pocket-book. As he anticipated, it was crammed full of notes of the first Treasury + issue. He did not take them out to count them; a rook, watching him curiously from + the edge of the wood, warned him of the danger of human eyes.</p> + <p>Here, then, was the end of his investigations, and a discovery which would + necessitate his departure from the inn sooner than he had anticipated. Nothing + remained for him to do but to acquaint the authorities with the fresh facts he had + brought to light, indicate the man to whom those facts pointed, and endeavour to see + righted the monstrous act of injustice which had condemned an innocent man to the + ignominy of a shameful death. The sooner that task was commenced the better. The law + was swift to grasp and slow to release, and many were the formalities to be gone + through before the conviction of a wrongly convicted man could be quashed, + especially<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> + in a grave charge like murder. Only on the most convincing fresh evidence could the + jury's verdict be upset, and none knew better than Colwyn that such evidence had not + yet been obtained. But the additional facts discovered during his second visit to the + inn, if not in themselves sufficient to upset the verdict against Penreath, + nevertheless threw an entirely new light on the crime, which, if speedily followed + up, would prove Penreath's innocence by revealing the actual murderer. The only + question was whether the police would use the clues he was going to place in their + hands in the manner he wished them to be used. If they didn't—but Colwyn + refused to contemplate that possibility. His mind reverted to the chief constable of + Norfolk. He felt he was on firm ground in believing that Mr. Cromering would act + promptly once he was certain that there had been a miscarriage of justice in the + Glenthorpe case.</p> + <p>It would be necessary to arrange his departure from the inn in such a manner as + not to arouse suspicion, and also to have the pit watched in case any attempt was + made to recover the money he had found that morning. Colwyn, after some + consideration, decided to invoke the aid of Police Constable Queensmead. His brief + association with Queensmead had convinced him that the village constable was discreet + and intelligent.</p> + <p>It was still very early as he descended to the village and sought the constable's + house. His knock at the door was not immediately answered, but after the lapse of a + minute or two the door was unbolted, and the constable's face appeared. When he saw + who his visitor was he asked to be excused while he put on some clothes. He was back + speedily, and ushered Colwyn into the room in which he did his official business.</p> + <p>"Queensmead," said the detective earnestly, "I have<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> to go to Norwich, and I want you to + do something for me in my absence. I am going to tell you something in strict + confidence. Fresh facts have come to light in the Glenthorpe case. You remember Mr. + Glenthorpe's money, which was supposed to have been stolen by Penreath, but which was + never recovered. I found it this morning down the pit where the body was thrown."</p> + <p>"How did you get down the pit?" asked Queensmead.</p> + <p>"I climbed down the creepers as far as they went. I had a rope for the rest of the + descent, but it wasn't needed, for I found Mr. Glenthorpe's pocket-book suspended by + a cord about ten feet down. Here it is."</p> + <p>Queensmead scrutinised the pocket-book and its contents, and on handing it back + remarked:</p> + <p>"Do you think Penreath returned and concealed himself in the wood to recover these + notes?"</p> + <p>Colwyn was struck by the penetration of this remark.</p> + <p>"No, quite the contrary," he replied. "Your deduction is drawn from an isolated + fact. It has to be taken in conjunction with other fresh facts which have come to + light—facts which put an entirely fresh complexion on the case, and tend to + exculpate Penreath."</p> + <p>"I would rather not know what they are, then," replied Queensmead quietly. "It is + better I should not know too much. You see, it might be awkward, in more ways than + one, if things are turning out as you say. What is it you want me to do?"</p> + <p>"I want you to watch the pit on the rise while I am away, chiefly at night. It is + of paramount importance that the man whom I believe to be the thief and murderer + should not be allowed to escape in my absence. I do not think that he has any + suspicions, so far, and it is practically certain nobody saw me descend the pit. But + if he should, by any chance, go down to the pit for his<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> money, and find it gone, he would + know he had been discovered, and instantly seek safety in flight. That must be + prevented."</p> + <p>"How?"</p> + <p>"You must arrest him."</p> + <p>"I do not see how that can be done," replied Queensmead. "I cannot take upon + myself to arrest a man simply for descending the pit. It's not against the law."</p> + <p>"In order to get over that difficulty I left my own pocket-book tied to the cord + in the pit," replied Colwyn. "It's a black leather one, like Mr. Glenthorpe's. If the + thief goes down he is hardly likely to discover the difference till he gets to the + surface. You can arrest him for the theft of my pocket-book, which contains a little + money. You can make a formal entry of my complaint of my loss."</p> + <p>"Well, I've heard that you were a cool customer, Mr. Colwyn, and now I believe + it," replied Queensmead, laughing outright. "Fancy thinking out a plan like that down + in the pit! But as you've made the complaint it's my duty to enter it, and keep a + look out for your lost pocket-book. I'll watch the pit, and if anybody goes down it + I'll arrest him."</p> + <p>"If the attempt is made it will not be in daytime—it will be in the night, + you may be sure of that. I want you to watch the pit at night. The life of an + innocent man may depend on your vigilance. It will only be for two nights, or three + at the most. I shall certainly return within three days."</p> + <p>"You may depend on me," replied the constable. "I will go to the pit as soon as it + grows dark, and watch from the edge of the wood till daylight."</p> + <p>"Thank you," said Colwyn. "I felt sure you would do it when you knew what was at + stake. I have an idea<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg + 261]</a></span> that your vigil will not be disturbed, but I want to be on the safe + side. I suppose you are not afraid of the ghost?"</p> + <p>"You have heard of the White Lady of the Shrieking Pit?" said Queensmead, looking + at the other curiously.</p> + <p>"I have heard of her, but I have not heard her, or seen her. Have you?"</p> + <p>"I cannot say I have, but I live at the wrong end of the village, and I never go + out at night. But there are plenty of villagers, principally customers of the + <i>Anchor</i>, who are prepared to take their Bible oath that they have heard + her—if not seen her. The White Lady has terrorised the whole + village—since the murder."</p> + <p>There was something in the tone of the last three words which attracted the + detective's attention.</p> + <p>"There was not much talk of the ghost before the murder, then?" he asked.</p> + <p>"Very little. I have been stationed here for two years, and hardly knew of its + existence. Of course, it's a deep-rooted local tradition, and every villager has + heard the story in childhood, and most of them believe it. Many of them actually + think they have heard moans and shrieks coming from the rise during this last week or + so. It's a lonely sort of place, with very little to talk about; it doesn't take much + to get a story like that going round."</p> + <p>"Then you think there is some connection between the reappearance of the ghost and + the hiding of the money in the pit it is supposed to haunt?"</p> + <p>"It's not my business to draw inferences of that kind, sir. I leave that to my + betters, if they think fit to do so. I am only the village constable."</p> + <p>"But you've already inferred that the legend has been spread round again by means + of gossip at the <i>Anchor</i>. Was it started there?"<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span></p> + <p>"It was and it wasn't. A fool of a fellow named Backlog burst into the tap-room + one night and said he had heard the White Lady shrieking, and Charles—that's + the waiter—declared that he had seen something white the same night. That was + the start of the business."</p> + <p>"So I have heard. But what has kept it going ever since?"</p> + <p>"Well, from what I hear—I never go to the inn myself, but a local policeman + learns all the gossip in a small place like this—the subject is brought up in + the bar-room every evening, either by the innkeeper or Charles, and discussed till + closing time, when the silly villagers go home, huddled together like a flock of + sheep, not daring to look round for fear of seeing the White Lady."</p> + <p>"Do Benson and Charles both believe in the ghost?"</p> + <p>"It seems as if they do." The constable's voice was noncommittal.</p> + <p>As Colwyn rose to go, Queensmead looked at him with a trace of hesitation in his + manner.</p> + <p>"Perhaps you'd answer me a question, sir," he said in a low tone, as though afraid + of being overheard. "That greenery that grows inside the pit, by which you climbed + down, will it support a heavy weight?"</p> + <p>"It will hold a far heavier man than you, if you are thinking of making the + descent," said Colwyn laughingly. "It's a case of unity is strength. The tendrils of + the climbing plants are so twisted together that they are as tough as ropes."</p> + <p>"Thank you. What time will you reach here when you return?"</p> + <p>"Probably not before dusk, but certainly by then. In the meantime, of course, you + will not breathe a word of this to anybody."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" + id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span></p> + <p>"I am not likely to do that. I shall keep a close watch on the pit till I see you + again."</p> + <p>"That's right. Good day."</p> + <p>"Good day, sir."</p> + <p>It still wanted a few minutes to seven when Colwyn returned to the inn. The front + door was as he had left it, closed, but unlocked. The house was silent: nobody was + yet stirring. He locked the door after him, and proceeded to his room, pleased to + think he had not been seen going or coming. His first act on reaching his room was to + lock the door and count the money in the pocket-book. The money was all in single + Treasury notes, with one five-pound note. The case contained nothing else except a + faded newspaper clipping on Fossil Sponges. Colwyn replaced the notes, and put the + case in an inside breast pocket. He next performed the best kind of toilet the + primitive resources of the inn permitted, and occupied himself for an hour or so in + completing his notes of his investigations.</p> + <p>While he was breakfasting he saw the innkeeper passing the half-open door, and he + called him into the room and told him to let him have his bill without delay, as he + was returning to Durrington that morning. The innkeeper made no comment on hearing + his guest's intention, and Charles brought in the bill a little later. Colwyn, as he + paid it, casually asked Charles if he happened to know the time of the morning trains + from Heathfield.</p> + <p>"There's one to Durrington at eleven o'clock, sir," said the waiter, consulting a + greasy time-table. "There's one at 9:30, but it's a good long walk to the station, + and you could not catch it because there's no way of getting there except by walking, + as you know, sir."</p> + <p>"The eleven o'clock train will suit me," said Colwyn, consulting his watch.<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span></p> + <p>"Shall I go and get your bag, sir?"</p> + <p>"No, thanks, I've not packed it yet."</p> + <p>Colwyn went upstairs shortly afterwards determined to pack his bag and leave the + place as soon as possible. As he was about to enter his room he saw Peggy appear at + the end of the passage. She looked at him with a timid, wistful smile, and made a + step towards him, as though she would speak to him. Colwyn pretended not to see her, + and hurried into his room and shut the door. How could he tell her what she had so + innocently done in recalling him to the inn? How inform her what the cost of saving + her lover would be to her? Somebody else must break the news to her, when it came to + that. He packed his things quickly, anxious only to leave a place which had grown + repugnant to him, and to drop the dissimulation which had become hateful. Never had + he so acutely realised how little a man is master of his actions when entangled in + the strange current of Destiny which men label Chance.</p> + <p>When he emerged from the room with his bag, Peggy was no longer visible. The + innkeeper was standing in the passage as he went downstairs, and Colwyn nodded to him + as he passed. He breathed easier in the fresh morning air, and set out briskly for + the station.</p> + <p>He reached Heathfield an hour later, and found he had nearly half an hour to wait + for his train. The first ten minutes of that time he utilised despatching two + telegrams. One was to the chief constable of Norfolk, at Norwich, and the other to + Mr. Oakham, in London. In the latter telegram he indicated that fresh discoveries had + come to light in Penreath's case, and he asked the solicitor to go as soon as + possible to Norwich where he would await him at his hotel.<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span></p> + <hr style="width: 35%;" size="6" /> + <h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII</h2> + <p>Colwyn reached Durrington by midday, and proceeded to the hotel for his letters + and lunch. After a cold meal served by a shivering waiter in the chilly dining room + he went to the garage where he had left his car, and set out for Norwich. He arrived + at the cathedral city late in the afternoon, and drove to the hotel where Mr. Oakham + had stayed. While engaging a room, he told the clerk that he expected Mr. Oakham from + London, and asked to be informed immediately he arrived. After making these + arrangements the detective left the hotel and went to the city library, where he + spent the next couple of hours making notes from legal statutes and the Criminal + Appeal Act.</p> + <p>When he returned to the hotel for dinner the clerk informed him that Mr. Oakham + had arrived a short time previously, and had requested that Mr. Colwyn would join him + at dinner. Colwyn proceeded to the dining-room, and saw Mr. Oakham dining in solitary + state at a large table, reading a London evening newspaper between the courses. He + looked up as Colwyn approached, and rose and shook hands.</p> + <p>"This is an unexpected pleasure," said the detective. "I hardly thought you would + get here before the morning."</p> + <p>"I had arranged to visit Norwich to-morrow, but in view of the urgent nature of + your telegram I decided to catch the afternoon train instead," replied the solicitor. + "Will you dine with me, Mr. Colwyn, and we can talk business afterwards."<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span></p> + <p>Colwyn complied, and when the meal was finished, Mr. Oakham turned to him with an + eagerness which he did not attempt to conceal, and said:</p> + <p>"Now for your news, Mr. Colwyn. But, first, where shall we talk?"</p> + <p>"As well here as anywhere. There is nobody within hearing."</p> + <p>The solicitor followed his glance round the almost empty dining-room, and nodded + acquiescence. Drawing his chair a little nearer the detective, he begged him to + begin.</p> + <p>"I have not very much to tell you—at present. But since the conviction of + your client, James Ronald Penreath, I have been back to the inn where the murder was + committed, and I have discovered fresh evidence which strengthens considerably my + original belief that Penreath is an innocent man. But I have reached a stage in my + investigations when I need your assistance in completing my task before I go to the + authorities with my discoveries. It is hardly necessary for me to tell a man of your + experience that it is one of the most difficult things in the world to upset a jury's + verdict in a case of murder."</p> + <p>"What have you discovered?"</p> + <p>"This, for one thing." Colwyn produced the pocket-book, and displayed the contents + on the table. "This is the murdered man's pocket-book, containing the missing notes + which Penreath is supposed to have murdered him for. The prosecution dropped the + charge of robbery, but the theft formed an important part of the Crown theory of the + crime, as establishing motive."</p> + <p>"Where did you find this pocket-book?"</p> + <p>"Suspended by a piece of cord, half way down the pit where the body was + flung."</p> + <p>"It's an interesting discovery," replied Mr. Oakham<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> thoughtfully tapping his nose with + his gold-rimmed eye-glasses as he stared at the black pocket-book on the white + tablecloth. "Speaking personally, it is proof of what I have thought all along, that + a Penreath of Twelvetrees would not commit a robbery. Therefore, on that line of + reasoning, one could argue that as Penreath did not commit the robbery, and the Crown + hold that the murder was committed for the money, Penreath must be innocent. But the + Crown is more likely to hold that as Penreath threw the body in the pit, he concealed + the money there afterwards, and was hiding in the wood to recover it when he was + arrested. The real point is, Mr. Colwyn, can you prove that it was not Mr. Penreath + who placed the money in the pit?"</p> + <p>"I believe I can prove, at all events, that it was not Penreath who threw the body + into the pit."</p> + <p>"You can! Then who was it?"</p> + <p>"I am not prepared to answer that question at the moment. During my visit to the + inn I made a number of other discoveries besides that of the pocket-book, which, + though slight in themselves, all fit in with my present theory of the murder. But + before disclosing them, I want to complete my investigations by testing my theory to + the uttermost. It is just possible that I may be wrong, though I do not think so. + When I have taken the additional step which completes my investigations, I will go to + the chief constable, reconstruct the crime for him as I see it now, and ask him to + take action."</p> + <p>"Then why have you sent for me?"</p> + <p>"To help me to complete my task. Part of my theory is that Penreath is + deliberately keeping silent to shield some one else. The solicitor of a convicted man + has access to him even when he is condemned to death. I want you to take me with you + to see Penreath."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg + 268]</a></span></p> + <p>"For what purpose?"</p> + <p>"In order to get him to speak."</p> + <p>"It would be quite useless." The lawyer spoke in some agitation. "I have seen him + twice since the verdict, and implored him to speak if he has anything to say, but he + declared that he had nothing to say."</p> + <p>"Nevertheless, I shall succeed where you have failed. Penreath is an innocent + man."</p> + <p>"Then why does he not speak out, even now—more so now than ever?"</p> + <p>"He has his reasons, and they seem sufficient to him to keep him silent even under + the shadow of the gallows."</p> + <p>"And why do you think he will confide them to you, when he refuses to divulge them + to his professional adviser?"</p> + <p>"He will not willingly reveal them to me. My hope of getting his story depends + entirely upon my success in springing a surprise upon him. That is one of my reasons + for not telling you more just now. The mere fact that you knew would hamper my + handling a difficult situation. The slightest involuntary gesture or look might put + him on his guard, and the opportunity would be lost. It is not absolutely essential + that I should gain Penreath's statement before going to the police, but if his + statement coincides with my theory of the crime it will strengthen my case + considerably when I reconstruct the crime for the police."</p> + <p>"Your way of doing business strikes me as strange, Mr. Colwyn," said the solicitor + stiffly. "As Mr. Penreath's professional adviser, surely I am entitled to your + fullest confidence. You are asking me to behave in a very unprofessional way, and + take a leap in the dark. There are proper ways of doing things. I will be frank with + you. I have come to Norwich in order to urge Penreath<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> for the last time to permit me to + lodge an appeal against his conviction. That interview has been arranged to take + place in the morning."</p> + <p>"Has he previously refused to appeal?"</p> + <p>"He has—twice."</p> + <p>"May I ask on what grounds you are seeking permission to appeal?"</p> + <p>"If he consents, my application to the Registrar would be made under Section Four + of the Criminal Appeal Act," was the cautious reply.</p> + <p>"That means you are persisting in your original defence—that Penreath is + guilty, but insane. Therefore your application for leave to appeal against the + sentence on the ground of insanity only enables you to appeal to the Court to quash + the sentence on the ground that Penreath is irresponsible for his acts. Even if you + succeed in your appeal he will be kept in gaol as a criminal lunatic. In a word, you + intend to persist in a defence which, as I told you before the trial, had very little + chance of success. In my opinion it has no more chance of success before the Court of + Appeal. You have not sufficient evidence for a successful defence on the grounds of + insanity. The judge, in his summing up at the trial, was clearly of the opinion that + Sir Henry Durwood was wrong in thinking Penreath insane, and he directed the jury + accordingly.</p> + <p>"In my opinion the judge was right. I do not think Penreath is insane, or even + subject to fits of impulsive insanity. If you ask my opinion, I think he is still + suffering from the effects of shell shock, and, like many other brave men who have + been similarly affected, he endeavoured to conceal the fact. I have come to the + conclusion that Penreath's peculiar conduct at the Durrington hotel, on which Sir + Henry based his theory of <i>furor epilepticus</i>, was nothing more than the + combined effect<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg + 270]</a></span> of mental worry and an air raid shock on a previously shattered + nervous system. Penreath is a sane man—as sane as you or I—and my late + investigations at the scene of the murder have convinced me that he is an innocent + man also. The question is, are you going to allow professional etiquette to stand in + the way of proving his innocence?"</p> + <p>"But you have not shown me anything to convince me that he <i>is</i> an innocent + man. Your statement comes as a great surprise to me, and you cannot expect that I + should credit your bare assumption. It would be exceedingly difficult to believe + without the most convincing proofs, which you have not brought forward. I prepared + the case for the defence at the trial, and I only permitted that defence to be put + forward because there was no other course—the evidence was so overwhelming, and + Penreath's obstinate silence in the face of it pointed so conclusively to his + guilt."</p> + <p>"Nevertheless, you were wrong. The question is, are you going to help me undo that + wrong?"</p> + <p>"You have not yet proved to me that it is a wrong," quibbled the solicitor.</p> + <p>"Mr. Oakham, let me make this quite clear to you," said the detective sternly. "I + have sent for you out of courtesy, because, as I said before, I like to do things in + a regular way. As you force me to speak plainly, there is another reason, which is + that I did not wish to make you look small, or injure your professional reputation, + by acting independently of you. It would be a bad advertisement for Oakham and + Pendules if it got abroad—as it assuredly will if you persist in your + attitude—that an innocent client of yours was almost sent to the gallows + through your wrong defence at his trial. It is in your hands to prevent such a + scandal from be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg + 271]</a></span>coming public property. But if you are going to stand on professional + etiquette it is just as well you should understand that I am quite prepared to act + independently of you. I have sufficient influence to obtain an order from the + governor of the gaol for an interview with the condemned man, and I shall do so. I + have discovered sufficient additional evidence in this case to save Penreath, and I + am going to save him, with or without your assistance. You have had your way—it + was a wrong way. Now I am going to have my way. I only ask you to trust me for a few + hours. After I have seen Penreath you are at liberty to accompany me to the chief + constable, to whom I shall tell everything. That is my last word."</p> + <p>"I will do as you ask, Mr. Colwyn," replied the solicitor, after a short pause. + "Not because I am apprehensive of the consequences, but because you have convinced me + that it would be foolish and wrong on my part to place any obstacles in the way of + establishing my client's innocence, even if it is only the smallest chance. You must + forgive my hesitation. I am an old man, and your story has been such a shock that I + am unable to realise it yet. But I will not stand on punctilio when it is a question + of trying to save a Penreath of Twelvetrees from the gallows. I think I can arrange + it with the governor of the gaol to permit you to accompany me when I see Penreath in + the morning. That interview is to take place at twelve o'clock. We can go together + from here to the gaol, if that will suit you."</p> + <p>"That will suit me excellently. And before that interview takes place I should be + glad if you would tell me the facts of Penreath's engagement to Miss Willoughby."</p> + <p>"I really know very little about it," said Mr. Oakham, looking somewhat surprised + at the question. "I have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg + 272]</a></span> heard, though, that Penreath met Miss Willoughby in London before the + war, and became engaged after a very brief acquaintance. Ill-natured people say that + the girl's aunt threw her at Penreath's head. The aunt is a Mrs. Brewer, a wealthy + manufacturer's widow, a pushing nobody——"</p> + <p>"I have met her."</p> + <p>"I had forgotten. Well, you know that type of woman, with an itch to get into + Society. Perhaps she thought that the marriage of her niece to a Penreath of + Twelvetrees would open doors for her. At any rate, I remember there was a great deal + of tittle-tattle at the time to the effect that she manoeuvred desperately hard to + bring about the engagement. On the other hand, there can be no harm in stating now + that Ronald Penreath's father was almost equally keen on that match for monetary + reasons. The Penreaths are far from wealthy. From that point of view the match seemed + suitable enough—money on one side, and birth and breeding on the other. I am + not sure that there was very much love in the case, or that the young people's + feelings were deeply involved on either side. There is no reason why I should not + mention these things now, for the match has been broken off. It was broken off + shortly after Penreath's arrest."</p> + <p>"By the young lady?"</p> + <p>"By the aunt, in her presence. It happened the day after they went to Heathfield + to identify Penreath. Mrs. Brewer was furious about the whole business as soon as she + ascertained that it wasn't a mistake, as she had hoped at first, and that there was + likely to be much unpleasant publicity over it. She said she would never be able to + hold up her head in Society after the disgrace, and all that sort of thing. It all + came about through my asking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" + id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> Miss Willoughby if she would like to see her lover + while he was awaiting trial. The girl replied, coldly enough, that it would be time + enough to see him after he had cleared himself of the dreadful charge hanging over + his head. By the way she spoke she seemed to think herself a deeply injured person, + as perhaps she was. Then the aunt had her say, and insisted that I must tell Penreath + the engagement was broken off. I asked Miss Willoughby if that was her wish also, and + she replied that it was. I told Penreath the following day, but I do not think that + it worried him very much."</p> + <p>"I do not think it would," replied Colwyn with a smile.<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span></p> + <hr style="width: 35%;" size="6" /> + <h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII</h2> + <p>Colwyn found Mr. Oakham awaiting him in the hotel lobby, a little before eleven + the following morning, to inform him that the necessary arrangements had been made to + enable him to be present at his interview with Penreath. Colwyn forbore to ask him on + what pretext he had obtained the gaol governor's consent to his presence, but merely + signified that he was ready. Mr. Oakham replied that they had better go at once, and + asked the porter to call a taxi.</p> + <p>On arriving at the gaol they passed through the double entrance gates, Mr. Oakham + turned to a door on the left just within the gates, and entered. The door opened into + a plainly furnished office, with walls covered with prison regulations. Behind a + counter, at a stand-up desk opposite the door, a tall burly man in a uniform of blue + and silver was busily writing in a large ledger. Ranged in rows, on hooks alongside + him, were bunches of immense keys, and as he turned to attend to Oakham and Colwyn + another bunch of similar keys could be seen dangling at his side. Mr. Oakham + explained the purpose of their visit, and produced the order for the interview. The + functionary in blue and silver, who was the entrance gaoler, perused it attentively, + and pushed over two forms for the solicitor and the detective to fill in. It was the + last formality that the law insisted on—a grim form of visiting card whereon + the visitor inscribes his name and business, which is sent to the condemned man, who + must give his consent to the interview before it is granted.<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span></p> + <p>When Mr. Oakham and Colwyn had filled in their forms the entrance gaoler took them + and pulled a rope. Somewhere in a corridor a bell clanged, and a moment afterwards a + gaoler opened a small door on the other side of the counter. The entrance gaoler gave + him the forms, and he disappeared with them. There ensued a long period of waiting, + and nearly half an hour elapsed before he reappeared again, accompanied by a warder. + The blue and silver functionary silently lifted the flap of the counter, and beckoned + Mr. Oakham and Colwyn to accompany the warder through the small door at the other end + of the room.</p> + <p>They went through and the bell clanged once more as the door closed behind them. + The warder took them along a corridor to a door at the farther end, and ushered them + into a room—a large apartment, not unlike a board room, furnished with a table + and chairs ranged on each side. It was the governor of the gaol's room, where the + interview was to take place. Colwyn took one of the chairs at the table, Mr. Oakham + took another, and silently they awaited the coming of the condemned man.</p> + <p>Another quarter of an hour elapsed before the door at the other end of the room + opened, and Penreath appeared between two warders. They conducted him to the table, + and placed a chair for him. With a quick glance at his visitors he sat down, and the + warders seated themselves on each side of him. The warder who had brought the + visitors in then nodded to Mr. Oakham, as an indication that the interview might + begin.</p> + <p>In the brief glance that the young man cast at his visitors Colwyn observed both + calmness of mind and self-possession. Although deep shadows under the eyes and the + tenseness of the muscles round the mouth revealed sleepless nights and mental agony, + Penreath's face<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg + 276]</a></span> showed no trace of insanity or the guilty consciousness of evil + deeds, but had the serene expression of a man who had fought his battle and won + it.</p> + <p>Mr. Oakham began the interview with him in a dry professional way, as though it + were an interview between solicitor and client in the sanctity of a private room, + with no hearers. And, indeed, the prison warders sitting there with the impassive + faces of officialdom might have been articles of furniture, so remote were they from + displaying the slightest interest in the private matters discussed between the two. + No doubt they had been present at many similar scenes, and custom is a deadening + factor. Mr. Oakham's object was to urge his client to consent to the lodgement of an + appeal against the jury's verdict, and to that end he advanced a multitude of + arguments and a variety of reasons. The young man listened patiently, but when the + solicitor had concluded he shook his head with a gesture of finality which indicated + an unalterable refusal.</p> + <p>"It's no use, Oakham," he said. "My mind is quite made up. I'm obliged to you for + all the trouble you have taken in my case, but I cannot alter my decision. I shall go + through with it—to the end."</p> + <p>"In that case it is no use my urging you further." Mr. Oakham spoke stiffly, and + put his eye-glasses in his pocket with an air of vexation. "Mr. Colwyn has something + to say to you on the subject. Perhaps you will listen to him. He believes he can help + you."</p> + <p>"He helped to arrest me," said Penreath, with a slight indifferent look at the + detective.</p> + <p>"But not to convict you," said Colwyn. "I had hoped to help you."</p> + <p>"What do you want of me?" Penreath's tone was cold.<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span></p> + <p>"In the first place, I have to say that I believe you innocent."</p> + <p>The young man lifted his eyebrows slightly, as if to indicate that the other's + opinion was a matter of indifference to him, but he remained silent.</p> + <p>"I have come to beg of you, even at this late hour, to break your silence, and + give an account of your actions that night at the inn."</p> + <p>"You might have saved yourself the trouble of coming here. I have nothing whatever + to say."</p> + <p>"That means that you continue in your refusal to speak. Will you answer one or two + questions?"</p> + <p>"No."</p> + <p>"Will you not tell me why you kept silence about what you saw in Mr. Glenthorpe's + room that night of the murder?"</p> + <p>"Man, how did you find that out?" Penreath's calm disappeared in a sudden fury of + voice and look. "What do you know?"</p> + <p>"I know whom you are trying to shield," replied the detective, with his eyes fixed + on Penreath's face. "You are wrong. She——"</p> + <p>"I beg of you to be silent! Do not mention names, for God's sake." Penreath's face + had grown suddenly white.</p> + <p>"It is in your power to ensure my silence."</p> + <p>"How?"</p> + <p>"By speaking yourself."</p> + <p>"That I will never do."</p> + <p>"Then you compel me to go to the authorities and tell them what I have discovered. + I will save you in spite of yourself."</p> + <p>"Do you think that I want to be saved—like that?"<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span></p> + <p>Struggling desperately for self-control Penreath turned to Mr. Oakham. "Why did + you bring Mr. Colwyn here?" he asked the solicitor fiercely. "To torture me?"</p> + <p>Before Mr. Oakham could reply Colwyn laughed aloud. A clear ringing laugh of + unmistakable satisfaction. The laugh sounded strangely incongruous in such a + place.</p> + <p>"Penreath," he said, "you've told me all that I came here to know. You're a + splendid young Briton, but finesse is not your strong point. You've acted like a + quixotic young idiot in this case, and got yourself into a nice muddle for nothing. + The girl is as innocent as you are, and you are a pair of simpletons! Yes. I mean + what I say," continued the detective, answering the young man's amazed look with a + reassuring smile. "Do you think that I would want to save you at her expense? Now + perhaps, when I have told you what happened that night, you will answer a few + questions. Before you went to bed you sat down and wrote a letter on a leaf torn from + your pocket-book. That letter was to Miss Willoughby, breaking off your engagement. + After writing it you went to bed. At that time it was raining hard.</p> + <p>"You must have fallen asleep almost immediately, and slept for half an + hour—perhaps a little more—for when you awoke the rain had ceased. You + heard a slight noise in your room, and lit your candle to see what it was. There was + a rat in the corner of the room. You got up to throw something at it, but as soon as + you moved the rat darted across the room and disappeared behind the wardrobe at the + side of the bed. You pushed back the wardrobe and——"</p> + <p>"For God's sake, say no more!" said Penreath. His face was grey, and he was + staring at the detective with the eyes of a man who saw his heart's secret—the + secret for which he was prepared to die—being dragged out<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> into the light + of day. "How did you learn all this?"</p> + <p>"That does not matter much just now. What you saw through the wall made you + determine to leave the house as speedily as possible, and also caused you to destroy + the letter you had written to Miss Willoughby.</p> + <p>"You were wrong in what you did. In the first place, you misinterpreted what you + saw through the door in the wall. By thinking Peggy guilty and leaving the inn early + in the morning, you not only wronged her grievously, but brought suspicion on + yourself. Peggy's presence in the room was quite by accident. She had gone to ask Mr. + Glenthorpe to assist you in your trouble, by lending you money, and, finding the door + open, she impulsively went in and found him dead—murdered. And at the bedside + she picked up the knife—the knife you had used at dinner—and this."</p> + <p>Colwyn produced Penreath's match-box from his pocket and laid it on the table in + front of him.</p> + <p>"Because of the knife and this match-box she thought you guilty."</p> + <p>"I! Why I never left my room after I went into it," exclaimed Penreath. "I left + the match-box in the room where I had dined with Mr. Glenthorpe. When I awoke after + falling asleep, and heard the noise in the room—just as you describe—I + could not find my match-box when I wanted a match to light my candle, then I + remembered that I had left it in the sitting-room on the mantelpiece. I happened to + find a loose match in my vest pocket."</p> + <p>"Peggy came to see me at my hotel, after the trial, and told me all she knew," + continued Colwyn. "It was well she did, for my second visit to the inn brought to + light a number of facts which will enable me to establish your innocence."<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span></p> + <p>"And what about the real murderer?" asked Penreath, in a hesitating voice, without + looking at the detective.</p> + <p>"We will not go into that just now, unless you have anything to tell me that will + throw further light on the events of the night." Colwyn shot a keen, questioning + glance at the young man.</p> + <p>"I will answer any questions you wish to put to me. It is the least I can do after + having made such a fool of myself. It was the shock of seeing Peggy in the room that + robbed me of my judgment. I should have known her better, but you must remember that + I had no idea she was in the house until I looked through the door in the wall which + I had accidentally discovered, and saw her standing at the bedside, with the knife in + her hand. I started to follow her home that day because I wished to know more about + her. I lost my way in the mist. I met a man on the marshes who directed me to the + village and the inn."</p> + <p>"When she heard your voice, and saw you going upstairs, she waited about in the + hope of seeing you before she went to bed, as she wished to avoid meeting you in the + presence of her father. When she saw Mr. Glenthorpe's door open she acted on a sudden + impulse, and went in."</p> + <p>"I have been rightly punished for my stupidity and my folly," said Penreath. "I + have wronged her beyond forgiveness."</p> + <p>"You really have not much to blame yourself for except your obstinate silence. + That was really too quixotic, even if things had been as you imagined. No man is + justified in sacrificing his life foolishly. And you had much to live for. You had + your duty to do in life. Nobody knew that better than you—a soldier who had + served his country gallantly and well. In fact, your<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> silence has been to me one of the + puzzles of this case, and even now it seems to me that you must have had a deeper + motive than that of shielding the girl, because you could have asserted your + innocence without implicating her."</p> + <p>"You are a very clever man, Colwyn," said the other slowly. "There was another + reason for my silence."</p> + <p>"What was it?"</p> + <p>"I am supposed to be an epileptic. I happen to know a little of the course of that + frightful disease, and it seemed to me that it was better to die—even at the + hands of the hangman—than to live on to be a burden to my friends and + relations, particularly when by dying I could shield the girl I loved. That is why I + was glad when the plea put up for my defence failed. I preferred to die rather than + live branded as a criminal lunatic. So, you see, it was not such a great sacrifice on + my part, after all."</p> + <p>"What brought you back to the wood where you were arrested?"</p> + <p>"To see her. I do not know if I wanted to speak to her; but I wanted above all + things to see her once again. When I left the inn that morning I had no idea that I + might fall under suspicion for having committed the murder, but I was desperately + unhappy after what I had seen the night before, and I didn't care what I did or where + I went. Instead of walking back to Durrington I struck across the marshes in the + opposite direction. I walked along all day, through a desolate area of marshes, + meeting nobody except an old eel fisherman in the morning, and, later on, a labourer + going home from his work. I was very tired when I saw the labourer, and I asked him + to direct me to some place where I could obtain rest and refreshment. He pointed to a + short cut across the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg + 282]</a></span> marshes, which, he said, led to a hamlet with an inn. I went along + the path he had pointed out, but I lost my way in the gathering darkness. After + wandering about the marshes for some time I saw the light of a cottage window some + distance off, and went there to inquire my way. The occupant, an old peasant woman, + could not have heard anything about the murder, for she was very kind to me, and gave + me tea and food. Afterwards I set out for the inn again, and when I reached the road + I sat down by the side of it to rest awhile.</p> + <p>"While I was sitting there two men came along. They did not see me in the dark, + and I heard them talking about the murder, and from what they said I knew that I was + suspected, and that the whole country side was searching for me. It seemed incredible + to me, and my first instinct was to fly. I sat there until the men's voices died away + in the distance, then I turned off the road, and hurried across some fields, looking + for a place to hide. After walking some distance I came to a large barn, standing by + itself. The door was open, and I went in. I had no matches, but I felt some hay or + straw on the floor. I lay down and pulled some over me, and fell fast asleep.</p> + <p>"I had only intended to rest in the barn for a while, but I was so tired that I + slept all night. When I awoke it was broad daylight. I did not know where I was at + first, but it all came back to me, and I started up in a fright, determined to leave + the barn as quickly as possible, for I knew it was an unsafe hiding place, and likely + to be searched at any time. But before I could get away I heard loud voices + approaching, and I knew I should be seen. I looked hastily around for some place of + concealment. It was just a big empty shed with one or two shelves covered with + apples, and a lot of straw on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" + id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> floor. In desperation, as the voices came nearer, I + lay down on the floor again, and pulled straw over me till I was completely hidden + from view.</p> + <p>"The door opened, and some men looked in. Through the straw that covered me I + could see them quite distinctly—three fishermen and a farm + labourer—though apparently they couldn't see me. From their conversation I + gathered that they formed part of a search party looking for me, and had been told + off to search the barn. This apparently they were not anxious to do, for they merely + peeped in at the door, and one of them, in rather a relieved tone, said I wasn't in + there, wherever I was. One of the fishermen replied that he expected that I was far + enough off by that time. They stood at the door for a few moments, talking about the + murder, and then they went away.</p> + <p>"I stayed in the barn all day, but nobody else came near me. When it was dark, I + filled my pockets with apples from the shelves, and went out. I wandered about all + night, and found myself close to a railway station at daybreak. I had been in that + part of the country before, so I knew where I was—not far from Heathfield, with + Flegne about three miles away across the fields. The country was nearly all open, and + consequently unsafe. As I walked through a field I spied a little hut, almost hidden + from view in a clump of trees. The door was open, and I could see it was empty. I + went in, lay down, and fell fast asleep.</p> + <p>"When I awoke it was getting dusk. I was very stiff and cold, so I started out + walking again to get myself warm. It was then, I remember well, that the longing came + over me to see Peggy again. I cursed myself for my weakness, knowing what I + knew—or thought I knew, God forgive me.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" + id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span></p> + <p>"I found myself making my way back to Flegne as fast as my legs would carry + me—which wasn't very fast, because I was weak from want of food, and so + footsore that I could hardly stumble along. But I got over the three miles somehow, + and reached the wood, where I crawled into some undergrowth, and lay there all night, + sometimes dozing, sometimes wide awake, and sometimes a bit light-headed, I think. It + was there you found me next day, and I was glad you did. I was about finished when I + saw you looking through the bushes and only too glad to come out. I didn't care what + happened to me then. And now, I have told you all."</p> + <p>The young man, as he finished his story, buried his face in his hands, as though + overcome by the recollection of the mental anguish he had been through, and what he + had endured.</p> + <p>"Not quite all, I think," said Colwyn, after a pause.</p> + <p>"I have told you everything that counts," said Penreath, without looking up.</p> + <p>"You have not," replied the detective firmly. "You have not told me all you saw + when you were looking through the door between the two rooms the night of the + murder."</p> + <p>Penreath raised his head and regarded the other with startled eyes.</p> + <p>"What do you mean?" he said, in a whisper.</p> + <p>"I mean that you have kept back that you saw the body removed," he said + grimly.</p> + <p>"Are you a man or a wizard?" cried Penreath fiercely. "God! how did you find that + out?"</p> + <p>"By guess work, if you like," responded the other coolly. "Listen to me! There has + been too much concealment about this case already, so let us have no more of it. It + was because of what you saw afterwards that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" + id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span> your suspicions were doubly fastened on the girl, + is that not so? I thought as much," he continued, as the other nodded without + speaking. "How long after Peggy left the room was it before the body was + removed?"</p> + <p>"Not very long," replied Penreath. "After she went out of the room I sat on the + bedside. I did not close the small door I had discovered, or replace the wardrobe. I + was too overwhelmed. In a little while—perhaps ten minutes—I saw a light + shine through the hole again. I went to it and looked through—God knows + why—and I saw somebody walking stealthily into the room, carrying a candle. He + went to the bedside and, with a groan, lifted the body on to his shoulders, and + carried it out of the room. I crept to my door, and looked out and saw him descending + the stairs. God in heaven, what a horror, what a horror!</p> + <p>"I waited to see no more. I shut the door in the wall, pulled the wardrobe back + into its place and determined to leave the accursed inn as soon as it was daylight. + In my cell at nights, when I hear the footsteps of the warder sounding along the + corridor and dying away in the distance, it reminds me of how I stood at the door + that night, listening to the sound of the footsteps stumbling down the + staircase."</p> + <p>"You heard the footsteps distinctly, then?" said the detective.</p> + <p>"Distinctly and clearly. The staircase is a stone one, as you know."</p> + <p>"Did you put your boots out to be cleaned before you went to bed?"</p> + <p>"Yes."</p> + <p>"And were they there when you looked out of the door?"</p> + <p>"I do not remember. But I know they were there in<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> the morning, dirty and covered with + clay. I took them in, and was about to put them on, when the servant knocked at the + door with a cup of morning tea. I answered the door with the boots in my hand. She + offered to clean them for me, and was taking them away, but I called her back and + said I would not wait for them. I was too anxious to get away from the place."</p> + <p>"Do you remember when you lost the rubber heel of one of them?"</p> + <p>"It must have been when I was walking the previous day. They were only put on the + day before. I happened to mention to a bootmaker at Durrington that my left heel had + become jarred with walking. He recommended me to try rubber heels to lessen the + strain, and he put them on for me. I had never worn them before, and found them very + uncomfortable when I was walking along the marshes. They seemed to hold and stick in + the wet ground."</p> + <p>"And now there are one or two other points I want you to make clear. Why did you + register in the name of James Ronald at the Durrington Hotel?"</p> + <p>"That was merely a whim. I was disgusted with London and society after my return + from the front. Those who have been through this terrible war learn to see most + things at their true worth, and the frivolity, the snobbishness, and the shams of + London society at such a time sickened and disgusted me. They tried to lionise me in + drawing rooms and make me talk for their entertainment. They put my photograph in the + illustrated papers, and interviewed me, and all that kind of thing. What had I done! + Nothing! Not a tithe of what thousands of better men are doing every day out there. + So I went away from it all. I had no intention, when I went into the hotel, of not + registering in my full name<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg + 287]</a></span> though. That came about in a peculiar way. It was the first + registration form I had seen—it was the first hotel I had stayed at after + nearly eighteen months at the front—and I put down my two christian names, + James Ronald, in the wrong space, the space for the surname, which is the first + column. I saw my error as I glanced over the form, but the girl, thinking I had + filled it up, took it away from me. It then struck me that it was just as well to let + it go; it would prevent my being worried by fools."</p> + <p>"And how came it that you ran so short of money that you had to leave the + hotel?"</p> + <p>"I have practically nothing except what my father allows me, and which is paid + quarterly through his bankers in London. I left London with a few pounds in my + pocket, and thought no more about money until the hotel proprietor stopped me one + morning and asked me politely to discharge my bill, as I was a stranger to him. It + was then that I first realised the difference between a name like Penreath of + Twelvetrees and plain James Ronald. I was furious, and told him he should have the + money in two days, as soon as I could communicate with my London bankers. I wrote + straight away, and asked them to send me some money. The money came, the morning I + was turned out of the hotel; I saw the letter in the rack, addressed to J. R. + Penreath, but what good was that to me? I could not claim it because I was booked in + the name of James Ronald. I knew nobody in the place to whom I could apply. I had + some thoughts of confiding in the hotel proprietor, but one look at his face was + sufficient to put that out of the question.</p> + <p>"So I went in to breakfast, desperately angry at being treated so, and feeling + more than a little ill. You know<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" + id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> what happened at the breakfast table. I began to + feel pretty seedy, and left my place to get to the fresh air, when that + doctor—Sir Henry Durwood—jumped up and grabbed me. I tried to push him + off, but he was too strong for me, and I found myself going. The next thing I knew + was that I was lying in my bedroom, and hearing somebody talk. After you had left the + room I determined to leave the hotel as quickly as possible. I packed a small + handbag, and told the hotel-keeper on my way downstairs that he could keep my things + until I paid my bill. Then I walked to Leyland Hoop, where I had an appointment with + Peggy, as you know. I seem to have acted as a pretty considerable ass all round," + said the young man, with a rueful smile. "But I had a bad gruelling from shell-shock. + I wouldn't mention this, but it's really affected my head, you know, and I don't + think I'm always quite such a fool as this story makes me appear to be."</p> + <p>"And your nerves were a bit rattled by the Zeppelin raid at Durrington, were they + not?" said Colwyn sympathetically.</p> + <p>"You seem to know everything," said the young man, flushing. "I am ashamed to say + that they were."</p> + <p>"You have no cause to be ashamed," replied Colwyn gently. "The bravest men suffer + that way after shell-shock."</p> + <p>"It's not a thing a man likes to talk about," said Penreath, after a pause. "But + if you have had experience of this kind of thing, will you tell me if you have ever + seen a man completely recover—from shell-shock, I mean?"</p> + <p>"I should say you will be quite yourself again shortly. There cannot be very much + the matter with your nerves to have stood the experience of the last few weeks.<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> After we get you + out of here, and you have had a good rest, you will be yourself again."</p> + <p>"And what about this other thing—this <i>furor epilepticus</i>, whatever it + is?" asked Penreath, anxiously.</p> + <p>"As you didn't murder anybody, you haven't had the epileptic fury," replied + Colwyn, laughing.</p> + <p>"But Sir Henry Durwood said at the trial that I was an epileptic," persisted the + other.</p> + <p>"He was wrong about the <i>furor epilepticus</i>, so it is just as likely that he + was wrong about the epilepsy. His theory was that you were going to attack somebody + at the breakfast table of the hotel, and you have just told us that you had no + intention of attacking anybody—that your only idea was to get out of the room. + You are neither an epileptic nor insane, in my opinion, but at that time you were + suffering from the after effects of shell-shock. Take my advice, and forget all about + the trial and what you heard there, or, if you must think of it, remember the + excellent certificate of sanity and clear-headedness which the doctors for the Crown + gave you! When you get free I'll take you to half a dozen specialists who'll probably + confirm the Crown point of view."</p> + <p>Penreath laughed for the first time.</p> + <p>"You've made me feel like a new man," he said. "How can I thank you for all you + have done?"</p> + <p>"The only way you can show your gratitude is by instructing Mr. Oakham to lodge an + appeal for you—at once. Have you the necessary forms with you, Mr. Oakham?"</p> + <p>"I have," said the solicitor, finding voice after a long silence.<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span></p> + <hr style="width: 35%;" size="6" /> + <h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV</h2> + <p>Mr. Oakham did not discuss what had taken place in the prison as he and Colwyn + drove to the office of the chief constable after the interview. He sat silent in his + corner of the taxi, his hands clasped before him, and gazing straight in front of him + with the look of a man who sees nothing. From time to time his lips moved after the + fashion of the old, when immersed in thought, and once he audibly murmured, "The poor + lad; the poor lad." Colwyn forbore to speak to him. He realised that he had had a + shock, and was best left to himself.</p> + <p>By the time the taxi reached the office of the chief constable Mr. Oakham showed + symptoms of regaining his self-possession. He felt for his eye-glasses, polished them, + placed them on his nose and glanced at his watch. It was in something like his usual + tones that he asked Colwyn, as they alighted from the cab, whether he had an + appointment with the chief constable.</p> + <p>"I wired to you both at the same time," replied the detective. "I asked him to + keep this afternoon free," he explained with a smile.</p> + <p>A police constable in the outer office took in their names. He speedily returned + with the message that the chief constable would be glad to see them, and would they + step this way, please. Following in his wake, they were conducted along a passage and + into a large comfortably furnished room, where Mr. Cromering was writing at a small + table placed near a large fire. He looked up as the visitors entered, put down his + pen, and came forward to greet them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" + id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span></p> + <p>"I am pleased to see you again, Mr. Colwyn, and you also, Mr. Oakham. Please draw + your chairs near the fire gentlemen—there's a decided nip in the air. I got + your telegram, Mr. Colwyn, and I am at your disposal, with plenty of time. Your + telegram rather surprised me. What has happened in the Glenthorpe case?"</p> + <p>"Fresh facts have come to light—facts that tend to prove the innocence of + Penreath, who was accused and convicted for the murder."</p> + <p>"Dear me! This is a very grave statement. What proofs have you?"</p> + <p>"Sufficient to warrant further steps in the case. It is a long story, but I think + when you have heard it you will feel justified in taking prompt action."</p> + <p>Before Mr. Cromering could reply, the police constable who had shown in Colwyn and + Mr. Oakham entered the room and said that Superintendent Galloway, from Durrington, + was outside.</p> + <p>"Bring him in, Johnson," said Mr. Cromering. He turned to Colwyn and added: "When + I received your telegram I telephoned to Galloway and asked him to be here this + afternoon. As he worked up the case against Penreath, I thought it better that he + should be present and hear what you have to say. You have no objection, I + suppose?"</p> + <p>"On the contrary, I shall be very glad for Galloway to hear what I have to + say."</p> + <p>The police constable returned, ushering in Superintendent Galloway, who looked + rather surprised when he saw his superior officer's visitors. He nodded briefly to + Colwyn, and looked inquiringly at the chief constable.</p> + <p>"Mr. Colwyn has discovered some fresh facts in the Glenthorpe murder, Galloway," + explained Mr. Cromer<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg + 292]</a></span>ing. "I sent for you in order that you might hear what they are."</p> + <p>"What sort of facts?" asked Galloway, with a quick glance at the detective.</p> + <p>"That is what Mr. Colwyn proposes to explain to us."</p> + <p>"I shall have to go back to the beginning of our investigations to do so—to + the day when we motored from Durrington to Flegne," said the detective. "We went + there with the strong presumption in our minds that Penreath was the criminal, + because of suspicious facts previously known about him. He was short of money, he had + concealed his right name when registering at the hotel, and his behaviour at the + breakfast table the morning of his departure suggested an unbalanced temperament. It + is a legal axiom that men's minds are influenced by facts previously known or + believed, and we set out to investigate this case under the strong presumption that + Penreath, and none other, was the murderer.</p> + <p>"The evidence we found during our visit to the inn fitted in with this theory, and + inclined the police to shut out the possibility of any alternative theory because of + the number of concurrent points which fitted in with the presumption that Penreath + was the murderer. There was, first, the fact that the murderer had entered through + the window. Penreath had been put to sleep in the room next the murdered man, in an + unoccupied part of the inn, and could easily have got from one window to the other + without being seen or heard. Next was the fact that the murder had been committed + with a knife with a round end. Penreath had used such a knife when dining with Mr. + Glenthorpe, and that knife was afterwards missing. Next, we have him hurriedly + departing from the inn soon after daybreak, refusing to wait till<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span> his boots were + cleaned, and paying his bill with a Treasury note.</p> + <p>"Then came the discovery of the footprints to the pit where the body had been + thrown, and those footprints were incontestably made by Penreath's boots. The stolen + notes suggested a strong motive in the case of a man badly in need of money, and the + payment of his bill with a Treasury note of the first issue suggested—though + not very strongly—that he had given the servant one of the stolen notes. These + were the main points in the circumstantial evidence against Penreath. The stories of + the landlord of the inn, the deaf waiter, and the servant supported that theory in + varying degrees, and afforded an additional ground for the credibility of the belief + that Penreath was the murderer. The final and most convincing proof—Penreath's + silence under the accusation—does not come into the narrative of events at this + point, because he had not been arrested.</p> + <p>"It was when we visited the murdered man's bedroom that the first doubts came to + my mind as to the conclusiveness of the circumstantial evidence against Penreath. The + theory was that Penreath, after murdering Mr. Glenthorpe, put the body on his + shoulder, and carried it downstairs and up the rise to the pit. The murderer entered + through the window—the bits of red mud adhering to the carpet prove that + conclusively enough—but if Penreath was the murderer where had he got the + umbrella with which he shielded himself from the storm? The fact that the murderer + carried an umbrella is proved by the discovery of a small patch of umbrella silk + which had got caught on a nail by the window. Again, why should a man, getting from + one window to another, bother about using an umbrella for a journey of a few feet + only? He would know that he could not use it when<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span> carrying the body to the pit, for + that task would require both his hands. And what had Penreath done with the umbrella + afterwards?</p> + <p>"The clue of the umbrella silk, and the pool of water near the window where the + murderer placed the umbrella after getting into the room, definitely fixed the time + of the murder between eleven and 11.30 p.m., because the violent rainstorm on that + night ceased at the latter hour. If Penreath was the murderer, he waited until the + storm ceased before removing the body. There were no footprints outside the window + where the murderer got in, because they were obliterated by the rain. On the other + hand, the footsteps to the pit where the body was thrown were clear and distinct, + proving conclusively that no rain fell after the murderer left the house with his + burden. It seemed to me unlikely that a man after committing a murder would coolly + sit down beside his victim and wait for the rain to cease before disposing of the + body. His natural instinct would be to hide the evidence of his crime as quickly as + possible.</p> + <p>"These points, however, were of secondary importance, merely tending to shake + slightly what lawyers term the probability of the case against Penreath. But a point + of more importance was my discovery that the candle-grease dropped on the carpet was + of two different kinds—wax and tallow—suggesting that two different + persons were in the room on the night of the murder. Mr. Glenthorpe did not use a + candle, but a reading lamp. Neither did Mr. Glenthorpe use the gas globe in the + middle of the room. Yet that gas tap was turned on slightly when we examined the + room, and the globe and the incandescent burner smashed. Who turned on the tap, and + who smashed the globe? Penreath is not tall enough to have struck it with his head. + Superintendent Galloway's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg + 295]</a></span> theory was that it might have been done by the murderer when throwing + the body of his victim over his shoulder.</p> + <p>"An ideal case of circumstantial evidence may be weakened, but not destroyed, by + the destruction of one or more of the collateral facts which go to make it up. There + are two kinds of circumstantial evidence. In one kind presumption of guilt depends on + a series of links forming a chain. In the other, the circumstances are woven together + like the strands of a rope. That is the ideal case of circumstantial evidence, + because the rope still holds when some of the strands are severed. The case against + Penreath struck me as resembling a chain, which is no stronger than its weakest link. + The strongest link in the chain of circumstances against Penreath was the footprints + leading to the pit. They had undoubtedly been made by his boots, but circumstances + can lie as well as witnesses, and in both cases the most plausible sometimes prove + the greatest liars. Take away the clue of the footprints, and the case against + Penreath was snapped in the most vital link. The remaining circumstances in the case + against him, though suspicious enough, were open to an alternative explanation. The + footprints were the damning fact—the link on which the remaining links of the + chain were hung.</p> + <p>"But the elimination of the clue of the footprints did not make the crime any + easier of solution. From the moment I set foot in the room it struck me as a deep and + baffling mystery, looking at it from the point of view of the police theory or from + any other hypothesis. If Penreath had indeed committed the murder, who was the second + visitor to the room? And if Penreath had not committed the murder, who had?</p> + <p>"That night, in my room, I sought to construct two alternative theories of the + murder. In the first place, I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" + id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span> examined the case thoroughly from the police point + of view, with Penreath as the murderer. In view of what has come to light since the + trial, there is no need to take up time with giving you my reasons for doubting + whether Penreath had committed the crime. I explained those reasons to Superintendent + Galloway at the time, pointing out, as he will doubtless remember, that the police + theory struck me as illogical in some aspects, and far from convincing as a whole. + There were too many elements of uncertainty in it, too much guess-work, too much + jumping at conclusions. Take one point alone, on which I laid stress at the time. The + police theory originally started from the point of Penreath's peculiar behaviour at + the Durrington hotel, which, from their point of view, suggested homicidal mania. To + my mind, there was no evidence to prove this, although that theory was actually put + forth by the defence at Penreath's trial. I witnessed the scene at the breakfast + table, and, in my opinion, Sir Henry Durwood acted hastily and wrongly in rushing + forward and seizing Penreath. There was nothing in his behaviour that warranted it. + He was a little excited, and nothing more, and from what I have heard since he had + reason to be excited. Neither at the breakfast table nor in his room subsequently did + his actions strike me as the actions of a man of insane, neurotic, or violent + temperament. He was simply suffering from nerves. It is important to remember, in + recalling the events which led up to this case, that Penreath was invalided out of + the Army suffering from shell-shock, and that two nights before the scene at the + hotel there was an air raid at Durrington. Shell-shock victims are always + prejudicially affected by air raids.</p> + <p>"Even if the police theory had been correct on this point, it seemed inconceivable + to me that a man affected<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg + 297]</a></span> with homicidal tendencies would have displayed such cold-blooded + caution and cunning in carrying out a murder for gain, as the murderer at the + <i>Golden Anchor</i> did. The Crown dropped this point at the trial. I merely mention + it now in support of my contention that the case of circumstantial evidence against + Penreath was by no means a strong one, because it originally depended, in part, on + inferred facts which the premises did not warrant.</p> + <p>"Next, the discoveries made in the room where the murder was committed, and + certain other indications found outside, did not fit in with the police case against + Penreath. Superintendent Galloway's reconstruction of the crime, after he had + seen the body and examined the inn premises, did not account for the existence of all + the facts. There were circumstances and clues which were not consistent with the + police theory of the murder. The probability of the inference that Penreath was the + murderer was not increased by the discoveries we made. I am aware that absolute proof + is not essential to conviction in a case of circumstantial evidence, but, on the + other hand, to ignore facts which do not accord with a theory is to go to the other + extreme, for by so doing you are in danger of excluding the possibility of any + alternative theory.</p> + <p>"On the other hand, when I sought to account for the crime by any other hypothesis + I found myself puzzled at every turn. The presence of two persons in the room was the + baffling factor. The murderer had entered through the window in the storm, lighted + the tallow candle which he brought with him, walked straight to the bed and committed + the murder. Then he had waited till the rain ceased before carrying the body + downstairs to the pit. But what about the second person—the per<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span>son who had + carried the wax candle and dropped spots of grease underneath the broken gas globe? + Had he come in at a different time, and why? Why had he sought to light the gas, when + he carried a candle? Why had he—as I subsequently ascertained—left the + room and gone downstairs to turn on the gas at the meter?</p> + <p>"Eliminating Penreath for the time being, I tried next to fit in the clues I had + discovered with two alternative theories. Had the murder been committed from outside + by a villager, or by somebody in the inn? There were possibilities about the former + theory which I pointed out to Superintendent Galloway, who subsequently investigated + them, and declared that there was no ground for the theory that the murder had been + committed from outside. The theory that the murder had been committed by somebody + inside the inn turned my attention to the inmates of the inn. Excluding Penreath for + the time being, there were five inmates inside the walls the night the murder was + committed—the innkeeper, his daughter, his mother, the waiter, and Ann, the + servant. The girl could hardly have committed the murder, and could certainly not + have carried away the body. The old mad woman might have committed the murder if she + could have got out of her room, but she could not have carried the body to the + pit—neither could the servant. By this process of elimination there remained + the landlord and the deaf waiter.</p> + <p>"For a reason which it is not necessary to explain now, my thoughts turned to the + waiter when I first saw the body of the murdered man. The possibility that he was the + murderer was strengthened by the slight clue of the line in the clay which I found + underneath the murdered man's bedroom window. That window is about five feet from the + ground outside, and the waiter, who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" + id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span> is short and stout, could not have climbed through + the window without something to stand on. But the waiter could not possibly have + carried the body to the pit. His right arm is malformed, and only a very strong man, + with two strong arms, could have performed that feat.</p> + <p>"There remained the innkeeper. He was the only person on the inn premises that + night, except Penreath, who could have carried the corpse downstairs and thrown it + into the pit. Although thin, I should say he is a man of great physical strength. It + is astonishing to think, in looking back over all the circumstances of this + extraordinary case, that some suspicion was not diverted to him in the first + instance. He was very hard-pressed for money, and he knew for days beforehand that + Mr. Glenthorpe was going to draw £300 from the bank—a circumstance that + Penreath could not possibly have known when he sought chance shelter at the inn that + night. He was the only person in the place tall enough to have smashed the gas globe + and incandescent burner in Mr. Glenthorpe's room by striking his head against it. He + knew the run of the place and the way to the pit intimately—far better than a + stranger like Penreath could. I was struck with that fact when we were examining the + footprints. The undeviating course from the inn to the mouth of the pit suggested an + intimate acquaintance with the way. The man who carried the body to the pit in the + darkness knew every inch of the ground.</p> + <p>"It is easy to be wise after the event, but my thoughts and suspicions were + centering more and more around the innkeeper when Penreath was arrested. His + attitude altered the whole aspect of the case. His hesitating answers to me in the + wood, his fatalistic acceptance of the charge against him, seemed to me equivalent to + a con<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg + 300]</a></span>fession of guilt, so I abandoned my investigations and returned to + Durrington.</p> + <p>"I was wrong. It was a mistake for which I find it difficult to forgive myself. + Penreath's hesitation, his silence—what were they in the balance of + probabilities in such a strange deep crime as this murder? In view of the discoveries + I had already made—discoveries which pointed to a most baffling mystery—I + should not have allowed myself to be swerved from my course by Penreath's silence in + the face of accusation, inexplicable though it appeared at the time. You know what + happened subsequently. Penreath, persisting in his silence, was tried, convicted, and + sentenced to death—because of that silence, which compelled the defence to rely + on a defence of insanity which they could not sustain.</p> + <p>"I went back to the inn a second time, not of my own volition, but because of a + story told me by the innkeeper's daughter, Peggy, at Durrington four days ago. The + night before the inquest Peggy paid a visit to the room in which the murdered man + lay. I did not see her go in, but I saw her come out. She went downstairs and hurried + across the marshes and threw something into the sea from the top of the breakwater. + The following day, after Penreath's arrest, I questioned her. She gave me an + explanation which was hardly plausible, but Penreath's silence, coming after the + accumulation of circumstances against him, had caused me to look at the case from a + different angle, and I did not cross-examine her. The object of her visit to me after + the trial was to admit that she had not told me the truth previously. Her amended + story was obviously the true one. She and Penreath had met by chance on the seashore + near Leyland Hoop two or three weeks before, and had met secretly afterward. The + subsequent actions of these two foolish young people<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span> prove, convincingly enough, that + they had fallen passionately in love with each other. Peggy, however, had never told + Penreath her name or where she lived—because she knew her position was + different from his, she says—and she could not understand how he came to be at + the inn that night. Naturally, she was very much perturbed at his unexpected + appearance. She waited for an opportunity to speak to him after hearing his voice, + but was compelled to attend on her mad grandmother until it was very late.</p> + <p>"Before going to bed she went down the passage to see if by any chance he had not + retired. There was a light in Mr. Glenthorpe's room, and, acting on a sudden girlish + impulse, she ran along the passage to Mr. Glenthorpe's door, intending to confide her + troubles in one who had always been very good and kind to her. The door was partly + open, and as she got no reply to her knock, she entered. Mr. Glenthorpe was lying on + his bed, murdered, and on the floor—at the side of the bed—she found the + knife and this silver and enamel match-box. She hid the knife behind a picture on the + wall. She did a very plucky thing the following night by going into the dead man's + room and removing the knife in order to prevent the police finding it, for by that + time she was aware that the knife formed an important piece of evidence in the case + against her lover. It was the knife she threw into the sea, but she kept the + match-box, which she recognised as Penreath's. When she came to me she did not intend + to tell me anything about the match-box if she could help it. She was frank enough up + to a point, but beyond that point she did not want to go.</p> + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span></p> + <p>"After Penreath's conviction she began, womanlike, to wonder if she had not been + too hasty in assuming his guilt, and as the time slipped by and brought the day + of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span> his doom + nearer she grew desperate, and as a last resource she came to me. It was a good thing + she did so. For her story, though apparently making the case against Penreath blacker + still, incidentally brought to light a clue which threw a new light on the case and + decided me to return to Flegne. That clue is contained in the match-box."</p> + <hr style="width: 35%;" size="6" /> + <h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a>CHAPTER XXV</h2> + <p>Colwyn opened the silver and enamel box, and emptied the matches on the table.</p> + <p>"I showed this match-box to Charles on my return to the inn, and he told me that + Penreath used it in the upstairs sitting-room the night he dined there with Mr. + Glenthorpe. Therefore, it is a reasonable deduction to assume that he had no other + matches in his possession the night of the murder.</p> + <p>"This fact is highly significant, because the matches in Penreath's silver box + are, as you see, blue-headed wax matches, whereas the matches struck in Mr. + Glenthorpe's room on the night of the murder were of an entirely different + description—wooden matches with pink heads, of British + manufacture—so-called war matches, with cork pine sticks. The sticks of these + matches break rather easily unless they are held near the head. Two broken fragments + of this description of match, with unlighted heads, were found in Mr. Glenthorpe's + room the morning after the murder. Superintendent Galloway picked up one by the foot + of the bed, and I picked up the other under the broken gas-globe. The recovery of + Penreath's match-box in the murdered man's room suggested several things. In the + first place, if he had no other matches in his possession except those in his silver + and enamel box, he was neither the murderer nor the second person who visited the + room that night. But if my deduction about the matches was correct, how was it that + his match-box was found in the murdered man's room? The inference<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span> is that Penreath + left his match-box in the dining room after lighting his candle before going to bed, + and the murderer found it and took it into Mr. Glenthorpe's bedroom to point + suspicion towards Penreath.</p> + <p>"This fact opened up a new possibility about the crime—the possibility that + Penreath was the victim of a conspiracy. When we were examining the footprints which + led to the pit, the possibility of somebody else having worn Penreath's boots + occurred to me, because I have seen that trick worked before, but the servant's story + suggested that Penreath did not put his boots outside his door to be cleaned, but + came to the door with them in his hand in the morning. But Penreath told me this + morning that he put out his boots overnight to be cleaned, but had taken them back + into his room before Ann brought up his tea. The murderer, therefore, had ample + opportunity to use them for his purpose of carrying the body to the pit and to put + them back afterwards outside Penreath's door.</p> + <p>"But Peggy's belated admissions did more than suggest that Penreath was the victim + of a sinister plot—they narrowed down the range of persons by whom it could + have been contrived. The plotter was not only an inmate of the inn, but somebody who + had seen the match box and knew that it belonged to Penreath.</p> + <p>"I returned to Flegne to resume the investigations I had broken off nearly three + weeks before, and from that point my discoveries were very rapid, all tending to + throw suspicion on Benson. The first indication was the outcome of a remark of mine + about his height, and the broken gas light in Mr. Glenthorpe's bedroom. It was purely + a chance shot, but it threw him into a pitiable state of excitement. I let him think, + however, that it was nothing more than a chance remark. That night<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span> I was put to + sleep in Penreath's room, and there I made two discoveries. The first was the + existence of a small door, behind the wardrobe, opening on a corresponding door on + the other side, which in its turn opens into Mr. Glenthorpe's room. Thus it would be + possible for a person in the room Penreath occupied, discovering these doors as I + did, to see into the next bedroom—under certain conditions. My second discovery + was the outcome of my first discovery—I picked up underneath the wardrobe a + fragment of an appealing letter which Penreath had commenced to write to his + fiancée, and had subsequently torn up. It was a long time before I grasped the + full significance of these two discoveries. Why should a man, after writing a letter + of appeal to his fiancée, decide not to send it and destroy it? The most + probable reason was that something had happened to cause him to change his mind. What + could have happened to change the conditions so quickly? The hidden doors in the + wall, which looked into the next room, supplied an answer to the question. Penreath + had looked through, and seen—what? My first thought was that he had seen the + murder committed, but that theory did not account for the destruction of the letter, + and his silence when arrested, unless, indeed, the girl had committed the murder. The + girl—Peggy! It came to me like a flash, the solution of the strangest aspect of + this puzzling case—the reason why Penreath maintained his dogged silence under + an accusation of murder.</p> + <p>"It came to me, the clue for which I had been groping, with the recollection of a + phrase in the girl's story to me—her second story—in which she not only + told me of her efforts to shield Penreath, but revealed frankly to me her relations + with Penreath, innocent enough, but commenced in chance fashion, and continued by + clandestine<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> + meetings in lonely spots. I remembered when she told me about it all that I was + impressed by Penreath's absolute straightforwardness in his dealings with this girl. + He was open and sincere with her throughout, gave her his real name, and told her + much about himself: his family, his prospects, and even his financial embarrassment. + He went further than that: he told her that he was engaged to be married, and that if + he could get free he would marry her. A young man who talks in this strain is very + much in love. The artless story of Peggy revealed that Penreath was as much in love + with the girl as she was with him. 'If he could get free!' That was the phrase that + gave me the key to the mystery. He had set out to get free by writing to Miss + Willoughby, breaking off his engagement. Later he had torn up the letter because + through the door in the wall he had seen Peggy standing by the bedside of the + murdered man, and had come to the conclusion that she had murdered him.</p> + <p>"If you think it a little strange that Penreath should have jumped to this + conclusion about the woman he loved, you must remember the circumstances were + unusual. Peggy had surrounded herself with mystery; she refused to tell her lover + where she lived, she would not even tell him her name. When he looked into the room + he did not even know she was in the house, because she had kept out of his way during + the previous evening, waiting for an opportunity to see him alone. Consequently he + experienced a great shock at the sight of her, and the mystery with which she had + always veiled her identity and movements recurred to him with a terrible and sinister + significance as he saw her again under such damning conditions, standing by the + bedside of the dead man with a knife in her hand.</p> + <p>"Penreath's subsequent actions—his destruction of the<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span> letter he had + written to Miss Willoughby, his hurried departure from the inn, and his silence in + the face of accusation—are all explained by the fact that he saw the girl Peggy + in the next room, and believed that she had committed this terrible crime.</p> + <p>"I now come to the clues which point directly to Benson's complicity in the + murder. I have already told you of his alarm at my chance remark about his height and + the smashed gas globe. You also know that he was in need of money. The next point is + rather a curious one. When Benson was telling us his story the day after the murder I + observed that he kept smoothing his long hair down on his forehead. There was + something in the action that suggested more than a mannerism. The night after I + discovered the door in the wall, I left it open in order to watch the next room. + During the night Benson entered and searched the dead man's chamber. I do not know + what he was looking for—he did not find it, whatever it was—but during + the search he grew hot, and threw back his hair from his forehead, revealing a + freshly healed scar on his temple. The reason he had worn his hair low was explained: + he wanted to hide from us the fact that it was he who had smashed the gas-globe in + Mr. Glenthorpe's room, and had cut his head by the accident.</p> + <p>"But his visit to the dead man's room revealed more than the scar on his forehead. + How did Benson get into the room? The room had been kept locked since the murder. + That night I had taken the key from a hook on the kitchen dresser in order to examine + the room when the inmates of the place had retired. Benson, therefore, had let + himself in with another key. This was our first knowledge of another key. Hitherto we + had believed that the only key was the one found in the outside of the<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> door the morning + after the murder. The police theory is partly based on that supposition. Benson's + possession of a second key, and his silence concerning it, point strongly to his + complicity in the crime. He knew that Mr. Glenthorpe was accustomed to lock his door + and carry the key about with him, so he obtained another key in order to have access + to the room whenever he desired. There would have been nothing in this if he had told + his household about it. A second key would have been useful to the servant when she + wanted to arrange Mr. Glenthorpe's room. But Benson kept the existence of the second + key a close secret. He said nothing about it when we questioned him concerning the + key in the door. An innocent man would have immediately informed us that there was a + second key to the room. Benson kept silence because he had something to hide.</p> + <p>"I now come to the events of the next morning. My investigation of the rise and + the pit during the afternoon had led to a discovery which subsequently suggested to + my mind that the missing money had been hidden in the pit. I determined to try and + descend it. I arose before daybreak, as I did not wish any of the inmates of the inn + to see me. Before going to the pit I got out of the window and into the window of the + next room, as Penreath is supposed to have done. That experiment brought to light + another small point in Penreath's favour. The drop from the first window is an + awkward one—more than eight feet—and my heels made a deep indentation in + the soft red clay underneath the window. If Penreath had dropped from the window, + even in his stocking feet, the marks of his heels ought to have been visible. There + was not enough rain after the murder was committed to obliterate them entirely. There + were no such marks<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg + 309]</a></span> under his window when we examined the ground the morning after the + murder.</p> + <p>"I next proceeded to the rise and lowered myself down the pit by the creepers + inside. About ten feet down the vegetable growth ceased, and the further descent was + impossible without ropes. But at the limit of the distance to which a man can climb + down unaided, I saw a peg sticking into the side of the pit, with a fishing line + suspended from it. I drew up the line, and found attached to it the murdered man's + pocket-book containing the £300 he had drawn out of the bank at Heathfield the + day he was murdered.</p> + <p>"Let me now try to reconstruct the crime in the light of the fresh information we + have gained. Benson was in desperate straits for money, and he knew that Mr. + Glenthorpe had drawn £300 from the bank that morning, all in small notes, which + could not be traced. The fact that he obtained a second key to the room suggests that + he had been meditating the act for some time past. It will be found, I think, when + all the facts are brought to light, that he obtained the second key when he learnt + that Mr. Glenthorpe intended to take a large sum of money out of the bank. Penreath's + chance arrival at the inn on the day that the money was drawn out, probably set him + thinking of the possibility of murdering and robbing Mr. Glenthorpe in circumstances + that would divert suspicion to the stranger. Penreath unconsciously helped him by + leaving his match-box in the room where he had dined with Mr. Glenthorpe. Benson + found the match-box on looking into the room to see that everything was all right + when his guests had retired, and determined to commit the murder that night, and + leave it by the murdered man's bedside, as a clue to direct attention to Penreath. + His next idea, to murder Mr. Glenthorpe<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" + id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span> with the knife which Penreath had used at dinner, + probably occurred to him as he considered the possibilities of the match-box.</p> + <p>"It is difficult to decide why Benson chose to enter the room from the window + instead of by the door when he had a second key of the room. He may have attempted to + open the door with the key, and found that Mr. Glenthorpe had locked the door and + left the key on the inside. Or he may have thought that as Penreath was sleeping in + the next room, he ran too great a risk of discovery by entering from the door, and so + decided to enter by the window. We must presume that Benson subsequently found Mr. + Glenthorpe's key, either inside the door or under his pillow, and kept it. He entered + the window, stabbed Mr. Glenthorpe, and placed the match-box and the knife at the + side of the bed. His next act would be to search for the money. Finding it difficult + to search by the light of the tallow candle, he decided to go downstairs and turn on + the gas.</p> + <p>"During his absence Peggy entered the room, saw the dead body, and picked up the + knife and the match-box. Then she picked up the candlestick by the bed, and fled in + terror. Benson, after turning on the gas at the meter, returned to find the room in + darkness. Thinking that the wind had blown out the candle, he walked to the gas with + the intention of lighting it. In doing so he knocked his head against the globe, + cutting his forehead, and smashing the incandescent burner.</p> + <p>"Benson, when he found that the candlestick had disappeared must, in his fright, + have rushed downstairs for another. He could not light the gas, because he had + smashed the burner. In no other way can I account for the second lot of candle-grease + that I found in the room underneath the gas-light, which made me believe at + first<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span> that + the room had been visited by two persons on the night of the murder. There + <i>were</i> two persons, Benson and his daughter, but Peggy did not bring a + candlestick into the room. It looks to me as though Benson, on returning with the + second candle, attempted to light the gas with it and failed. That action would + account for the gas tap being turned on, and the spilt grease directly underneath. He + then searched the room till he found the pocket-book containing the money.</p> + <p>"The subsequent removal of the body to the pit strikes me as an afterthought. The + complete plan was too diabolically ingenious and complete to have formed in the + murderer's mind at the outset. The man who put the match-box and knife by the bedside + of the murdered man in order to divert suspicion to Penreath had no thought, at that + stage, of removing the body. That idea came afterwards, probably when he went + upstairs the second time with the lighted candle, and saw Penreath's boots outside + the door. I cannot help thinking that the clue of the footprints, which was such a + damning point in the case against Penreath, was quite an accidental one so far as the + murderer was concerned. The thought that the boots would leave footprints which would + subsequently be identified as Penreath's was altogether too subtle to have occurred + to a man like Benson. That is the touch of a master criminal—of a much higher + order of criminal brain than Benson's.</p> + <p>"It is my belief that he originally intended to leave the murdered man in his + room, thinking that the match-box and knife would point suspicion to Penreath. But + after killing Mr. Glenthorpe he was overcome with the fear that his guilt would be + discovered, in spite of his precautions to throw suspicions on another man, and he + decided to throw the body into the pit in the hope that<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span> the crime would never be found out. + The fact that he had entered the room in his stocking feet supports this theory, + because he would be well aware that he would not be able to carry the body over + several hundred yards of rough ground in his bare feet. He took Penreath's boots, + which were close at hand, in preference to the danger and delay which he would have + incurred in going to his own room, some distance away, for his own boots. Having put + on the boots, he took the body on his shoulders and conveyed it to the pit.</p> + <p>"There are two or three points in this case which I am unable to clear up to my + complete satisfaction. Why did Benson leave the key in the outside of the door? Was + it merely one of those mistakes—those oversights—which all murderers are + liable to commit, or did he do it deliberately, in the hope of conveying the + impression that Mr. Glenthorpe had gone out and left the key in the outside of the + door. In the next place, I cannot account for the mark of the box underneath the + window. There is a third point—the direction of the wound in the murdered man's + body, which gave me some ideas at the time that I am now compelled to dismiss as + erroneous. But these are points that I hope will be cleared up by Benson's arrest, + and confession, for I am convinced, by my observation of the man, that he will + confess.</p> + <p>"There are one or two more points. Benson is an ardent fisherman, who spends all + his spare time fishing on the marshes. The stolen pocket-book was suspended in the + pit by a piece of fishing line. But I attach more importance to the second point, + which is that since the murder has been committed the nightly conversation at the inn + tap-room has centred around a local ghost, known as the White Lady of the Shrieking + Pit, who is supposed from time immemorial to have haunted the<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span> pit where the body was thrown, and + to bring death to anybody who encounters her at night. This spectre, which is + profoundly believed in by the villagers, had not been seen for at least two years + before the murder, but she made a reappearance a night or two after the crime, and is + supposed to have been seen frequently ever since. It looks to me as though Benson set + the story going again in order to keep the credulous villagers away from the pit + where the money was concealed.</p> + <p>"This morning, in company with Mr. Oakham, I saw Penreath in the gaol, and by a + ruse induced him to break his stubborn silence. His story, which it is not necessary + for me to give you in detail, testifies to his innocence, and supports my own theory + of the crime. He did not see the murder committed, but he saw the girl go into the + room, and subsequently he saw her father enter and remove the body. It was the latter + spectacle that robbed him of any lingering doubts he may have had of the girl's + guilt, and forced him to the conclusion that she and her father were accomplices in + the crime. But he loved her so much that he determined to keep silence and shield + her."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span></p> + <hr style="width: 35%;" size="6" /> + <h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXVI</h2> + <p>"This is a remarkable story, Mr. Colwyn," said the chief constable, breaking the + rather lengthy silence which followed the conclusion of the detective's + reconstruction of the crime. "It has been quite entrancing to listen to your + syllogistical skill. You would have made an excellent Crown Prosecutor." The chief + constable's official mind could conceive no higher compliment. "Your statements seem + almost too incredible for belief, but undoubtedly you have made out a case for the + further investigation of this crime. What do you think, Galloway?"</p> + <p>"The question, to my mind, is what Mr. Colwyn's discoveries really represent," + replied Galloway. "He has built up a very ingenious and plausible reconstruction, but + let us discard mere theory, and stick to the facts. What do they amount to? Apart + from Penreath's statement in the gaol that he saw the body carried down + stairs——"</p> + <p>"You can leave that out of the question," said the detective curtly. "My + reconstruction of the crime is independent of Penreath's testimony, which is open to + the objection that it should have been made before."</p> + <p>"Exactly what I was going to point out," rejoined Galloway bluntly. "Well, then, + let us examine the fresh facts. There are five as I see them. The recovery of + Penreath's match-box, the discovery of the door between the two rooms, the wound on + the innkeeper's forehead, the additional key, and the finding of the pocket-book<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span> in the pit. + Exclude the idea of conspiracy, and the recovery of the match-box becomes an + additional point against Penreath, because it strikes me as guess work to assume that + he had no other matches in his possession except that particular box and the loose + one he found in his vest pocket. Smokers frequently carry two or three boxes of + matches. The discovery of the hidden door is interesting, but has no direct bearing + on the crime. The wound on the innkeeper's head looks suspicious, but there is no + proof that it was caused by his knocking his head against the gas globe in the + murdered man's room on the night of the murder. As Mr. Colwyn himself has pointed + out, there is not much in Benson having a second key of Glenthorpe's room. Many + hotel-keepers and innkeepers keep duplicate keys of bedrooms. The significance of + this discovery is that Benson kept silence about the existence of this key. + Undoubtedly he should have told us about it, but I am not prepared to accept, + offhand, that his silence was the silence of a guilty man. He may have kept silence + regarding it through a foolish fear of directing suspicion to himself. That theory + seems to me quite as probable as Mr. Colwyn's theory. There remains the recovery of + the money in the pit. In considering that point I find it impossible to overlook that + Penreath returned to the wood after making his escape. That suggests, to my mind, + that he hid the money in the pit himself, and took the risk of returning in order to + regain possession of it."</p> + <p>"You are worthier of the chief constable's compliment than I, my dear Galloway," + said Colwyn genially. "Your gift of overcoming points which tell against you by + ignoring them, and your careful avoidance of telltale inferences, would make you an + ideal Crown Prosecutor."</p> + <p>"I don't believe in inferences in crime," replied Gallo<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span>way, flushing under the detective's + sarcasm. "I am a plain man, and I like to stick to facts."</p> + <p>"What was the whole of your case against Penreath but a series of inferences?" + retorted Colwyn. "Circumstantial evidence, and the circumstances on which you + depended in this case, were never fully established. Furthermore, your facts were not + consistent with your original hypothesis, and had to be altered when the case went to + trial. Now that I have discovered other facts and inferences which are consistent + with another hypothesis, you strive to shut your eyes to them, or draw wrong + conclusions from them. Your suggestion that Penreath must have hidden the money in + the pit because he was arrested near it is a choice example of false deduction based + on the wrong premise that Penreath hid the money there on the night of the murder. He + could not have done so because he had no rope, and how was he, a stranger to the + place, to know that the inside of the pit was covered with creeping plants of + sufficient strength to bear a man's weight? The choice of the pit as a hiding place + for the money argues an intimate local knowledge."</p> + <p>"You have not yet told us how you came to deduce that the money was in the pit," + said Mr. Cromering, who had been examining the pocket-book and money.</p> + <p>"While I was examining the mouth of the pit the previous afternoon I found this + piece of paper at the brink, trodden into the clay. Later on I recognised the + peculiar watermark of waving lines as the Government watermark in the first issue of + Treasury war notes. From that I deduced that the money was hidden in the pit. It was + all in Treasury notes, as you see."</p> + <p>"I'm afraid I don't quite follow you now," said the chief constable, with a + puzzled glance at the piece of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" + id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span> dirty paper in his hand. "This piece of paper is + not a Treasury note."</p> + <p>"Not now, perhaps, but it was once," said the detective with a smile. "It puzzled + me at first. I could not account for the Treasury watermark, designed to prevent + forgery of the notes, appearing on a piece of blank paper. Then it came to me. The + first issue of Treasury notes were very badly printed. Ordinary black ink was used, + which would disappear if the note was immersed in water. It was an official at + Somerset House who told me this. He informed me that they had several cases of + munition workers who, after being paid in Treasury notes, had put them into the + pockets of their overalls, and forgotten about them until the overalls came back from + the wash with every vestige of printing washed out from the notes, leaving nothing + but the watermarks. It occurred to me that the same thing had happened in this case. + The murderer, when about to descend to the pit to conceal the money, had accidentally + dropped a note and trodden it underfoot, and it had lain out in the open exposed to + heavy rains and dew until every scrap of printing was obliterated."</p> + <p>"By Jove, that's very clever, very clever indeed!" exclaimed Galloway. He picked + up a magnifying glass which was lying on the table, and closely examined the dirty + piece of white paper which Colwyn had found at the mouth of the pit. "It was once a + Treasury note, sure enough—the watermark is unmistakable. You've scored a point + there that I couldn't have made, and I'm man enough to own up to it. You see more + deeply into things than I do, Mr. Colwyn. And I'm willing to admit that you've made + some new and interesting discoveries about this case, though in my opinion you are + inclined to read too much into them. But I certainly think they<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span> ought to be + investigated further. If Penreath's statement to you this morning is true, Benson is + the murderer, and there has been a miscarriage of justice. But what makes me doubt + the truth of it is Penreath's refusal to speak before. I mistrust confessions made + out at the last moment. And his explanation that he kept silence to save the girl + strikes me as rather thin. It is too quixotic."</p> + <p>"There is more than that in it," replied Colwyn. "He had a double motive. Penreath + heard Sir Henry Durwood depose at the trial that he believed him to be suffering from + epilepsy."</p> + <p>"How does that constitute a second motive?"</p> + <p>"In this way. Penreath has a highly-strung, introspective temperament. He went to + the front from a high sense of duty, but he was temperamentally unfit for the ghastly + work of modern warfare, and broke down under the strain. Men like Penreath feel it + keenly when they are discharged through shell-shock. They feel that the carefully + hidden weaknesses of their temperaments have been dragged out into the light of day, + and imagine they have been branded as cowards in the eyes of their fellow men. I + suspect that the real reason why Penreath left London and sought refuge in Norfolk + under another name was because he had been discharged from the Army through + shell-shock. He wanted to get away from London and hide himself from those who knew + him. To his wounded spirit the condolences of his friends would be akin to taunts and + sneers. When Sir Henry Durwood questioned him he was careful to conceal the fact that + he had been a victim of shell-shock. As a matter of fact, Penreath's behaviour in the + breakfast room that morning was nothing more than the effects of the air raid on his + disordered nerves, but he would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" + id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span> sooner have died than admit that to strangers. + After listening to the evidence for the defence at the trial, he came to the + conclusion that he was an epileptic as well as a neurasthenic. He might well believe + that life held little for him in these circumstances, and that conviction would + strengthen him in his determination to sacrifice his life as a thing of little value + for the girl he loved."</p> + <p>"If that is true he must be a very manly young fellow," said the chief + constable.</p> + <p>"Supposing it is true, what is to be done?" asked Galloway, earnestly. "Penreath + has been tried and convicted for the murder."</p> + <p>"The conviction will be upset on appeal," replied the detective decisively.</p> + <p>"But I do not see that carries us much further forward as regards Benson," + persisted Galloway. "If he is the murderer, as you say, he will clear out as soon as + he hears that Penreath is appealing."</p> + <p>"He will not be able to clear out if you arrest him."</p> + <p>"On what grounds? I cannot arrest him for a murder for which another man has been + sentenced to death."</p> + <p>"True. But you can arrest him as accessory after the fact, on the ground that he + carried the body downstairs and threw it into the pit."</p> + <p>"And suppose he denies having done so? Look here, Mr. Colwyn, I want to help you + all I can, but if I have made one mistake, I do not want to make a second one. + Frankly, I do not know what to think of your story. It may be true, or it may not. + But speaking from a police point of view, we have mighty little to go on if we arrest + Benson. If he likes to bluff us we may find ourselves in an awkward position. Nobody + saw him commit the murder."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg + 320]</a></span></p> + <p>"I realise the truth of what you say because I thought it all over before coming + to see you," replied Colwyn. "If Benson denies the truth of the points I have + discovered against him, or gives them a different interpretation, it may be difficult + to prove them. But he will not—he will confess all he knows."</p> + <p>"What makes you think so?"</p> + <p>"Because his nerve has gone. If I had confronted him that night when I saw him in + the room I would have got the whole truth from him."</p> + <p>"Why did you not do so?"</p> + <p>"Because I had not the power to detain him. I am merely a private detective, and + can neither arrest a man nor threaten him with arrest. That is why I have come to + you. You, with the powers of the law behind you, can frighten Benson into a + confession much more effectually than I could."</p> + <p>"I don't half like it," grumbled Galloway. "There's a risk about + it——"</p> + <p>"It's a risk that must be taken, nevertheless." It was Mr. Cromering who + intervened in the discussion between the two, and he spoke with unusual decision. "I + agree with Mr. Colwyn that this is the best course to pursue. I will go with you and + take full responsibility, Galloway."</p> + <p>"There is no need for that," said Galloway quickly. "I am quite willing to + go."</p> + <p>"I will accompany you and Mr. Colwyn. It has been a remarkable case throughout, + and I want to see the end—if this is the end. I feel keenly interested in this + young man's fate."</p> + <p>"I should like to go also, but an engagement prevents me," said Mr. Oakham. "I am + quite content to leave Penreath's interests in Mr. Colwyn's capable hands." He<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span> rose as he + spoke, and held out his hand to the detective. "We have all been in error, but you + have saved us from having an irreparable wrong on our consciences. I cannot forgive + myself for my blindness. Perhaps you will acquaint me with the result of your visit + when you return. I shall be anxious to know."</p> + <p>"I will not fail to do so," replied Colwyn, grasping the solicitor's hand. "We had + better catch the five o'clock train to Heathfield and walk across to Flegne," he + added, turning to the others. "It will be as quick as motoring across, and the sound + of the car might put Benson on his guard. We want to take him unawares."</p> + <p>"He'll have got wind of something already if he finds the pocket-book gone," said + Galloway. "He may have bolted while we have been talking over things here."</p> + <p>"I've seen to that," replied the detective. "I tied my own pocket-book to the + fishing line in the pit, and left Queensmead watching the pit. If Benson tries to + escape with my pocket-book Queensmead will arrest him for robbery. I've made a + complaint of the loss."</p> + <p>"You haven't left much to chance," replied Galloway, with a grim smile.<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span></p> + <hr style="width: 35%;" size="6" /> + <h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXVII</h2> + <p>It was characteristic of Mr. Cromering to beguile the long walk in the dark from + Heathfield Station by discussing Colwyn's theory that Benson had circulated the + reappearance of the White Lady of the Shrieking Pit in order to keep the villagers + away from the place where the stolen money was hidden. Mr. Cromering had been much + impressed—he said so—with the logical skill and masterly deductive powers + by which Colwyn had reconstructed the hidden events of the night of the murder, like + an Owen reconstructing the extinct moa from a single bone, but he was loath to accept + that part of the theory which seemed to throw doubt on the authenticity of a famous + venerable Norfolk legend which had at least two hundred years of tradition behind + it.</p> + <p>Mr. Cromering, without going so far as to affirm his personal belief in the story, + declared that there were several instances extant of enlightened and educated people + who had seen the ghost, and had suffered an untimely end in consequence. He cited the + case of a visiting magistrate, who had been visiting in the district some twenty + years ago, and knew nothing about the legend. He was riding through Flegne one night, + and heard dismal shrieks from the wood on the rise. Thinking somebody was in need of + help, he dismounted from his horse, and went up to the rise to investigate. As he + neared the pit the White Lady appeared from the pit and looked at him with + inexpressibly sad eyes, drew her hand thrice across her throat, and disappeared again + in the pit. The magistrate was greatly startled at what he had seen, and<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span> related the + experience to his host when he got home. The latter did not tell him of the tragic + significance which was attached to the apparition, but the magistrate cut his throat + three days after his return to London. "Surely, <i>that</i> was more than a mere + coincidence?" concluded Mr. Cromering.</p> + <p>"I do not wish to undermine the local belief in the White Lady of the Shrieking + Pit," said Colwyn, with a smile which the darkness hid. "All I say is that her + frequent reappearances since the money was hidden in the pit were exceedingly useful + for the man who hid the money. I can assure you that none of the villagers would go + near the pit for twice the amount. There are plenty of them who will go to their + graves convinced that they have heard her nightly shrieks since the murder was + committed."</p> + <p>"It is difficult to believe that they are all mistaken," said Mr. Cromering + slowly.</p> + <p>"I do not think they are mistaken—at least, not all of them. Some have + probably heard shrieks."</p> + <p>"Then how do you account for the shrieks?" asked the chief constable eagerly.</p> + <p>"I think they have heard Benson's mother shrieking in her paroxysms of + madness."</p> + <p>"By Jove, that's a shrewd notion!" chuckled Superintendent Galloway. "You don't + miss much, Mr. Colwyn. Whether you're right or not, there's not the slightest doubt + that the whole village is in terror of the ghost, and avoids the Shrieking Pit like a + pestilence. I was talking to a Flegne farmer the other day, and he assured me, with a + pale face, that he had heard the White Lady shrieking three nights running, and when + his men went to the inn after dark they walked half a mile out of their way to avoid + passing near the pit. He told me<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" + id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span> also that the general belief among the villagers is + that Mr. Glenthorpe saw the White Lady a night or so before he was murdered."</p> + <p>"I heard that story also," responded Colwyn. "He was in the habit of walking up to + the rise after dark. He appears to have been keenly interested in his scientific + work."</p> + <p>"He was absorbed in it to the exclusion of everything else," said the chief + constable, with a sigh. "His death is a great loss to British science, and Norfolk + research in particular. I was very much interested in that newspaper clipping which + was found in his pocket-book with the money. It was a London review on a brochure he + had published on sponge spicules he had found in a flint at Flegne, and was his last + contribution to science, published two days before he was struck down. What a + loss!"</p> + <p>Their conversation had brought them to the top of the rise. Beneath them lay the + little hamlet on the edge of the marshes, wrapped in a white blanket of mist. Colwyn + asked his companions to remain where they were, while he went to see if Queensmead + was on the watch. He walked quickly across the hut circles until he reached the pit. + There his keen eyes detected a dark figure standing motionless in the shadow of the + wood.</p> + <p>"Is that you, Queensmead?" he said, in a low voice.</p> + <p>"Yes, Mr. Colwyn." The figure advanced out of the shadow.</p> + <p>"Is everything all right?"</p> + <p>"Quite all right, sir. I've watched from this spot from dark till dawn since + you've been away, and there's not been a soul near the pit. I've not been + disturbed—not even by the White Lady."</p> + <p>"You have done excellently. The chief constable and<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span> Superintendent Galloway have come + over with me, and we are going to the inn now. You had better keep watch here for + half an hour longer, so as to be on the safe side. If anybody comes to the pit during + that time you must detain him, and call for assistance. I will come and relieve you + myself."</p> + <p>"Very good, sir, you can depend on me," said Queensmead quietly, as he returned to + his post.</p> + <p>Colwyn rejoined his companions, and told them what had passed.</p> + <p>"I want to be on the safe side in case Benson tries to bolt when he sees us," he + explained. "He's hardly likely to go without making an effort to get the money. Now, + let us go to the inn."</p> + <p>"One moment," said the chief constable. "How do you propose to proceed when we get + there?"</p> + <p>"Get Benson by himself and frighten him into a confession," was the terse reply. + "I want your authority to threaten him with arrest. In fact, I should prefer that you + or Superintendent Galloway undertook to do that. It would come with more force."</p> + <p>"Let it be Galloway," responded the chief constable. "You will act just as if I + were not present, Galloway, and it is my wish that you do whatever Mr. Colwyn asks + you."</p> + <p>"Thank you," replied the detective. "Let us go, now. There is no time to be lost. + Somebody may have seen me speaking to Queensmead."</p> + <p>They descended the rise and, reaching the flat, discerned the gaunt walls of the + old inn looming spectrally from the mist. A light glimmered in the bar, and loud + voices were heard within. Colwyn felt for the door. It was shut and fastened. He + knocked sharply; the voices within ceased as though by magic, and presently<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span> there was the + sound of somebody coming along the passage. Then the door was opened, and the white + face of Charles appeared in the doorway, framed in the yellow light of a candle which + he held above his head as he peered forth into the mist. His black eyes roved from + Colwyn to the forms behind him.</p> + <p>"I'm sorry you were kept waiting, sir," he said, in his strange whisper, which + seemed to have a tremor in it. "But the customers will have the door locked at night + now. They are frightened of this ghost—this White Lady—she's been heard + shrieking——"</p> + <p>"Never mind that now," replied Colwyn. He had determined how to act, and stepped + quickly inside. "Where's Benson?"</p> + <p>"He's sitting upstairs with his mother, sir. Shall I tell him you want him?"</p> + <p>"No. I will go myself. Take these gentlemen into the bar parlour, and return to + the bar."</p> + <p>Colwyn made his way upstairs in the dark. He passed the rooms where Mr. Glenthorpe + had been murdered and Penreath had slept, and the room from which he had watched + Peggy's nocturnal visit to the death chamber. That wing of the inn was as empty and + silent as it had been the night of the murder, but a lighted candle, placed on an old + hall stand which Colwyn remembered having seen that night in the lumber room, + flickered in the wavering shadows—a futile human effort to ward off the lurking + terrors of darkness by the friendly feeble companionship of a light which could be + extinguished even more quickly than a life.</p> + <p>Colwyn took the candle to light him down the second passage to the mad woman's + room. As he reached it, the door opened, and Peggy stepped forth. She recoiled at the + sight of the detective.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg + 327]</a></span></p> + <p>"You!" she breathed. "Oh, why——"</p> + <p>"I have come to see your father," said Colwyn. It went to his heart to see the + entreaty in her eyes, the pitiful droop of her lips and the thinness of her face.</p> + <p>The door was opened widely, and the innkeeper appeared on the threshold beside his + daughter. Behind him, Colwyn could see the old mad woman in her bed in the corner of + the room, mumbling to herself and fondling her doll. The innkeeper fastened his + bird-like eyes on the detective's face.</p> + <p>"What are you doing here?" he said, and there was no mistaking the note of terror + in his voice. "What is it you want?"</p> + <p>"I want to speak to you downstairs," said the detective.</p> + <p>The innkeeper looked swiftly to the right and left with the instinct of a trapped + animal seeking an avenue of escape. Then his eyes returned to the detective's face + with the resigned glance of a man who had made up his mind.</p> + <p>"I will come down with you," he said. "Peggy, you must look after your grandmother + till I return."</p> + <p>The girl went back into the room and shut the door behind her, without a word or a + glance. Once more Colwyn felt admiration for her as a rare type of woman-hood. Truly, + she had self-control, this girl.</p> + <p>He and the innkeeper took their way along the passages and descended the stairs + without exchanging a word. When they got to the foot of the stairs Benson half + hesitated, and turned to Colwyn as if for direction. The latter nodded towards the + door of the bar parlour, and motioned the innkeeper to enter. Following closely + behind, he saw the innkeeper start with surprise at the sight of the two inmates of + the room. Mr. Cromering was seated at the table, but Superintendent Galloway was<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span> standing up with + his back to the fireplace. There was a moment's tense silence before the latter + spoke.</p> + <p>"We have sent for you to ask you a few questions, Benson."</p> + <p>"I was under the impression—that is, I was led to believe—that it was + Mr. Colwyn who wanted to see me."</p> + <p>"Never mind what you thought," retorted Galloway impatiently. "You know perfectly + well what has brought us here. I'm going to ask you some questions about the murder + which was committed in this inn less than three weeks ago."</p> + <p>"I know nothing about it, sir, beyond what I told you before."</p> + <p>"You will be well advised, in your own interests, not to lie, Benson. Why did you + not tell us you had a second key to Mr. Glenthorpe's room?"</p> + <p>There was a perceptible pause before the reply came.</p> + <p>"I didn't think it mattered, sir."</p> + <p>"Then you admit you have a second key?"</p> + <p>"Yes, sir."</p> + <p>"Very well." Superintendent Galloway took out a pocket-book and made a note of the + reply. "Now, where did you conceal the money?"</p> + <p>"What money, sir?"</p> + <p>"Don't equivocate, man!" Superintendent Galloway produced the pocket-book Colwyn + had recovered from the pit, and held it at arm's length in front of the innkeeper. "I + mean the £300 in Treasury notes in this pocket-book, which Mr. Glenthorpe drew + from the bank, and which you took from his room the night he was murdered."</p> + <p>"I know nothing about it."</p> + <p>To Colwyn at least it seemed that the expression on the innkeeper's face as he + glanced at the pocket-book<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg + 329]</a></span> might have been mistaken by an unprejudiced observer for genuine + surprise.</p> + <p>"I suppose you never saw it before, eh?" sneered Galloway.</p> + <p>"I never did."</p> + <p>"Nor hid it in the pit?"</p> + <p>"No, sir."</p> + <p>Galloway paused in his questioning in secret perplexity. Benson's answers to his + last three questions were given so firmly and unhesitatingly that some of his former + doubts of Colwyn's theory returned to him with redoubled force. But it was in his + most truculent and overbearing manner that he next remarked:</p> + <p>"Do you also deny that you carried Mr. Glenthorpe's body from his room and threw + it down the pit?"</p> + <p>The spasm of sudden terror which contorted the innkeeper's face was a revelation + to the three men who were watching him closely.</p> + <p>"I don't know anything about it," he quavered weakly.</p> + <p>"That won't go down, Benson!" Galloway was quick to follow up his stroke, shaking + his head fiercely, like a dog worrying a rat. "You were seen carrying the body + downstairs, the night of the murder. You might as well own up to it, first as last. + Lies will not help you. We know too much for you to wriggle out of it. And never mind + smoothing your hair down like that. We know all about that scar on your forehead, and + how you got it."</p> + <p>A wooden clock, standing on the mantelpiece, measured off half a minute in heavy + ticks. Then the innkeeper, in a voice which was little more than a whisper, + spoke:</p> + <p>"It is true. I carried the body downstairs."</p> + <p>"Why did you not tell us this before?"</p> + <p>"It would not have made any difference."</p> + <p>"What!" Superintendent Galloway's indignation and<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span> amazement threatened to choke his + utterance. "You keep silence till an innocent man is almost hanged for your misdeeds, + and now have the brazen effrontery to say it makes no difference."</p> + <p>"Is Mr. Penreath innocent?"</p> + <p>"Nobody should know that better than you."</p> + <p>"Then who murdered Mr. Glenthorpe?"</p> + <p>"Let us have no more of this fooling, Benson." Superintendent Galloway's voice was + very stern. "You have already admitted that you carried Mr. Glenthorpe's body + downstairs."</p> + <p>"Oh!" The wretched man cried out wildly, like one who sees an engulfing wave too + late. "I see what you mean—you think I murdered him. But I did not—I did + not! Before God I am innocent." His voice rang out loudly.</p> + <p>"We don't want to listen to this talk," interrupted Galloway roughly. "You are + under arrest, Benson, for complicity in this murder, and the less you say the better + for yourself."</p> + <p>"But I tell you I am innocent." The innkeeper brought his skeleton hands together + in a gesture which was almost tragic in its despair. "I carried the body downstairs, + but I did not murder him. Let me explain. Let me tell you——"</p> + <p>"My advice to you is to keep silence, man. Keep your story for the trial," replied + the police official. "You'd better get ready to go to Heathfield with me. I'll go + upstairs with you, and give you five minutes to get ready."</p> + <p>"Let him tell his story before you take him away, Galloway," said Colwyn, who had + been keenly watching the innkeeper's face during the dialogue between him and his + accuser. "I want to hear it."</p> + <p>"I do not see what good it will do," grumbled Superin<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span>tendent Galloway. "However, as you + want to hear it, let him go ahead. But let me first warn you, Benson, that anything + you say now may be used in evidence against you afterwards."</p> + <p>"I do not care for that—I am not afraid of the truth being known," replied + the innkeeper. He turned from the uncompromising face of the police officer to + Colwyn, as though he divined in him a more unprejudiced listener. "I did not murder + Mr. Glenthorpe, but I went to his room with the intention of robbing him the night he + was murdered," he commenced. "I was in desperate straits for money. The brewer had + threatened to turn me out of the inn because I couldn't pay my way. I knew Mr. + Glenthorpe had taken money out of the bank that morning, and in an evil moment + temptation overcame me, and I determined to rob him. I told myself that he was a + wealthy man and would never feel the loss of the money, but if I was turned out of + the inn my daughter and my old mother would starve.</p> + <p>"My plan was to go to his room after everybody was asleep, let myself in with my + key, and secure the pocket-book containing the money. I knew that Mr. Glenthorpe was + a sound sleeper, and I was aware that he generally locked his door and slept with the + key under his pillow.</p> + <p>"I went to my room early that night, and waited a long time before making the + attempt. It came on to rain about eleven o'clock, and I waited some time longer + before leaving my room. I walked in my stocking feet, so as to make no sound, and I + carried a candle, but it was not lighted. When I got to the door I stood and listened + awhile outside, thinking I might judge by Mr. Glenthorpe's breathing whether he was + asleep, but I could hear nothing. I unlocked the door quietly, and felt my way + towards the bed in the dark, hoping to find<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_332" + id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span> his coat and the money in it without running the + risk of striking a light.</p> + <p>"But I could not lay my hands on the coat in the dark, so I struck a match to + light the candle. I had made up my mind that if Mr. Glenthorpe should wake up and see + me at his bedside I would tell him the truth and ask him to lend me some money.</p> + <p>"By the light of the candle I saw Mr. Glenthorpe lying on his back, with his arms + thrown out from his body. He was uncovered, and the bed-clothes were lying in a + tumbled heap at the foot of the bed. I stood looking at him for a minute, not knowing + what to do. I did not realise at the time that he was dead, because the wind blowing + in at the open window caused the candle to flicker, and I could not see very clearly. + I thought he must be in a fit, and I wondered what I could do to help him. As the + candle still kept flickering in the wind, I picked up the candlestick and walked to + the gas-jet in the centre of the room, turned on the tap and tried to light it with + the candle. It would not light, and then I remembered that I had told Ann to turn it + off at the meter before going to bed. I walked back to the bedside, put the candle + down on the table, and had a closer look at Mr. Glenthorpe. As he was still in the + same attitude I put my hand on his heart to see if it was beating. I felt something + warm and wet, and when I drew back my hand I saw that it was covered with blood.</p> + <p>"When I realised that he was dead—murdered—I lost my nerve and rushed + from the room, leaving the candle burning at the bedside. My one thought was to get + downstairs and wash the blood off my hand. It was not until I had reached the kitchen + that I remembered that I had left the candle burning upstairs. I considered whether I + should return for it at once or wash my hands<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_333" + id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span> first. I decided on the latter course, and went + into the kitchen.</p> + <p>"I had just lit a candle, when I heard a door open behind me, and, turning round, + I saw Charles coming out of his room in his shirt and trousers, with a candle in his + hand. He said he had seen the light under his door, and wondering who had come into + the kitchen had got up to see. Then his face changed when he saw my hands, and he + asked me how the blood came to be on them.</p> + <p>"I tried to put him off at first by telling him I had knocked my hand upstairs. He + didn't say any more, but stood there watching me wash my hands, and when I had + finished he said that if I was going upstairs he would come with me, as he remembered + he had left his corkscrew in Mr. Glenthorpe's sitting room, and would want it in the + morning.</p> + <p>"I could see that he suspected me, and that if he went upstairs he would see the + light burning in Mr. Glenthorpe's bedroom, and might go in. So, in desperation, I + confessed to him that I had gone into Mr. Glenthorpe's room, and found him dead. I + asked Charles what I should do. He heard me very quietly, but when he learnt that I + had left my candle burning in Mr. Glenthorpe's room he said the first thing was to go + and get that, and then we could discuss what had better be done.</p> + <p>"I realised that was good advice, and went upstairs to get the candlestick. But + when I got to the door I was amazed to find the room in darkness. The door was on the + jar, just as I remembered leaving it, but there was not a glimmer of light. I was in + a terrible fright, but as I stood there in the dark, listening intently, the sound of + the wind roaring round the house reminded me how the candle had flickered in the wind + while I was in the room before, and I concluded that it must have<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span> blown out the + light. So I went into the room, feeling my way along the walls with my hands. When I + got near the bed I struck a match and looked for the candlestick. But it was + gone.</p> + <p>"Then I knew somebody had been in the room, and I made my way downstairs again as + fast as I could, and told Charles, and asked him what he thought of it. Charles said + it was clear that the murderer, whoever he was, had revisited the room since I had + been there, and finding the candle, had carried it off with him. I asked Charles for + what purpose? Charles turned it over in his mind for a moment, and then said that it + seemed to him that he might have done it to secure himself, in case he was caught, by + being able to prove that somebody else had been in Mr. Glenthorpe's room that + night.</p> + <p>"I saw the force of that and was greatly alarmed, and asked Charles what he + thought I had better do. Charles, after thinking it over for a while, said in my own + interests I would be well advised if I carried the body away and concealed it + somewhere where it was not likely to be found. He pointed out that if the facts came + to light it would be very awkward for me. On my own admission I had gone into Mr. + Glenthorpe's room in the middle of the night, and had come away leaving him dead in + bed, with his blood on my hands, and my bedroom candlestick alight at his bedside. + Charles pointed out that these facts were sure to come to light if the body was left + where it was, but if the body was removed and safely hidden, it might be thought that + Mr. Glenthorpe had simply disappeared.</p> + <p>"I was struck by the force of these arguments, and we next discussed where the + body should be hidden. We both thought of the pit, but I didn't like that idea at + first because I thought the police would be sure to<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span> search the pit when they learnt of + Mr. Glenthorpe's disappearance, because his excavations were near the pit. Charles, + on the other hand, thought it was the safest place—much safer than the sea, + which was sure to cast up the body. He said it would never occur to the police to + search the pit, until the body had lain there so long that it would be impossible to + say how he came by his death. Perhaps it would never be searched, in which case the + body would never be recovered.</p> + <p>"We decided on the pit, and Charles said he would keep watch downstairs while I + went up and got the body. But first I went and opened the back door and went to the + side of the inn to see if anybody was about. The rain had ceased, it was a dark and + stormy night, and everybody long since gone to bed. The rough stones outside cut my + feet, and recalled to my mind that I was without boots. I knew I could not carry the + body all the way up the rise without boots, and I was about to go to my room to get + them when I remembered that I had seen Penreath's boots outside his bedroom door. I + decided to wear them and avoid the risk of going back to my room for my own boots. I + have a small foot, and I had no doubt that they would fit me.</p> + <p>"Charles suggested that I should go into the room in the dark, so as to lessen the + risk of being seen, and light the candle when I got inside. I took the candle, but I + said I would turn on the gas at the meter, in case the wind blew out the candle. I + will keep nothing back now. The real reason was that I wanted the better light to + make quite sure if the money was gone. I thought perhaps the murderer might have + overlooked it, and I hoped to find it because I needed it so badly. When I got + upstairs I stopped outside Mr. Penreath's room, picked up his boots, and put them on. + I went into the room in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg + 336]</a></span> the dark, intending to strike a match, and light the gas, and search + for the money. I miscalculated the distance, and bumped into the gas globe in the + dark, cutting my head badly. When I struck a match I found that I couldn't light the + gas because the incandescent burner had been broken by the blow, so I lit the + candle.</p> + <p>"I shuddered at the ordeal of carrying the body downstairs, and only nerved myself + to the task by reflecting on the risk to myself if I allowed it to remain where it + was. As I stood by the bedside, I noticed Mr. Glenthorpe's key of the room lying by + the pillow, and I picked it up and put it in my pocket. I then lifted the body on my + shoulders, carried it downstairs, steadying it with one hand, and carrying the candle + in the other. Charles was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs, and he took the + candle from me and lighted me to the back door.</p> + <p>"A late moon was just beginning to show above the horizon when I got outside, and + by its light I had no difficulty in finding my way up the rise and to the pit. It was + a terrible task, and I was glad when I had accomplished it. I returned to the back + door, where Charles was awaiting me. We then fastened the back door, and he went to + his room off the kitchen, and I went upstairs to my room. As I passed Mr. + Glenthorpe's room I saw the door was open, and I pulled it quickly to, but I forgot + to take out the key I had left in the door when I first entered the room.</p> + <p>"I remembered the key in the morning when Ann told me Mr. Glenthorpe's room was + empty, but I dared not remove it then because I knew Ann must have seen it. And later + on, when you were questioning me about the key in the door, I was afraid to tell you + about the second key, because I knew you would question me.<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span></p> + <p>"When I learnt from Ann that Mr. Penreath had left early in the morning, and + wouldn't stay for breakfast, I felt sure it was he who had committed the murder. It + was a little later that Charles took me aside in the bar and told me that he had + walked up to the rise early that morning to see if everything was all right, and that + I had left traces of my footprints across the clay to the mouth of the pit. I was + very much upset when I heard this, for I knew the body was sure to be found. But + Charles said that, as things turned out, it was a very lucky accident.</p> + <p>"Charles said there was no doubt Mr. Penreath was the murderer. He had not only + cleared out, but the knife he had used at dinner had disappeared. Charles said he had + not missed the knife the night before, but he had discovered the loss when counting + the cutlery that morning. If the police found out that it was his boots which made + the prints leading to the pit it would only be another point against him, and as he + was sure to be hanged in any case the best thing I could do was to go and inform + Constable Queensmead of Mr. Glenthorpe's disappearance and Mr. Penreath's departure, + but to keep silence about my own share in carrying the body to the pit. Even if the + murderer denied removing the body nobody would believe him. I thought the advice + good, and I followed it. I don't know whether I could have kept it up if I had been + cross-questioned, but from first to last nobody seemed to have the least suspicion of + me. The only time I was really afraid was when one of you gentlemen asked me about + the key in the outside of the door, but you passed it over and went on to something + else.</p> + <p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span></p> + <p>"And now you know the whole truth. But I should<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span> like to say that I kept silence + about carrying the body away because I didn't think I was injuring anybody. I + believed Mr. Penreath to be guilty. Now you tell me he is innocent. If I had had any + idea of that I would have told the truth at once, even though you had hanged me for + it."</p> + <hr style="width: 35%;" size="6" /> + <h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXVIII</h2> + <p>"You're a nice scoundrel, Benson," said Superintendent Galloway, nodding his head + at the innkeeper with a kind of ferocious banter. "You're really a first-class + villain, upon my soul! But this precious story with which you've tried to bamboozle + us is not complete. Would it be putting too much strain on your inventive faculties + to ask you, while you are about it, to give us your version of how the money which + was stolen from Mr. Glenthorpe came to be hidden in the pit in which you flung his + body?"</p> + <p>"But I didn't know the money was hidden in the pit," said the wretched man, + glancing uneasily at the pocket-book, which was still lying on the table. "I never + saw the money, though I've confessed to you that I would have taken it if I had seen + it. That's the truth, sir—every word I've told you to-night is true! Charles + will bear me out."</p> + <p>"I've no doubt he will. I'll have something to say to that scoundrel later on. + There's a pair of you. I've no doubt he caught you in the act of carrying away the + body of your victim, and that you bribed him to keep silence. You planned together to + let an innocent man go to the gallows in order to save your own skin. Now, my + man——"</p> + <p>"Wait a moment, Galloway."</p> + <p>It was Colwyn who spoke. The innkeeper's story had been to him like a finger of + light in a murky depth, revealing unseen and unimagined abominations, but sup<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span>plying him with + those missing pieces of the puzzle for which he had long and vainly searched. During + the brief colloquy between Galloway and the innkeeper his brain had been busy fitting + together the whole intricate design of knavery.</p> + <p>"I want to ask a question," he continued, in answer to the other's glance of + inquiry. "What time was it you went to Mr. Glenthorpe's room—the first time I + mean, Benson. Can you fix it definitely?"</p> + <p>"Yes, sir. I kept looking at my watch in my room, waiting for the time to pass. It + was twenty past eleven the last time I looked, and I left my room about five minutes + later."</p> + <p>"Was it raining then?"</p> + <p>"Yes, sir, but not so hard as previously, and it stopped altogether before I + entered the room, though the wind was blowing."</p> + <p>"That is as I thought. Benson's story is true, Galloway."</p> + <p>"What!" The police officer's vociferous exclamation was in striking contrast to + the detective's quiet tones. "How do you make that out?"</p> + <p>"He couldn't have committed the murder. Mr. Glenthorpe was killed during the + storm, between eleven and half-past. Benson says he didn't enter the room till nearly + half-past eleven."</p> + <p>"If that's all you're going on——"</p> + <p>"It isn't." There was a trace of irritation in the detective's voice. "But + Benson's story fills in the gaps of my reconstruction in a remarkable way—so + completely, that he couldn't have invented it to save his life, because he does not + know all we know. In this extraordinarily complicated case the times are everything. + My original theory was right. There were two persons in the room<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span> the night of the + murder—three, really, but Peggy doesn't affect the reconstruction one way or + the other. The murderer, who carried an umbrella to shield himself from the rain, + entered the room about twenty past eleven. He murdered Mr. Glenthorpe, took the + money, and escaped the same way he entered—by the window. Benson entered by the + door at half-past eleven, certainly not later, and after standing at the bedside for + two or three minutes, rushed downstairs, as he related, leaving his candle burning at + the bedside. During his absence downstairs his daughter entered the room. Benson + returned for the candle and found it gone. Had he returned a minute or two earlier he + would have seen his daughter carrying it away, because in her story to me she said + she thought she heard somebody creeping up the stairs as she left the room. I thought + at the time that she imagined this, but now I have very little doubt that it was her + father she heard, going upstairs again to get the candle. Finally, Benson, after + planning it with Charles, removed the body to the pit some time after midnight."</p> + <p>"This is mere guess-work. Let us stick to facts. On Benson's own confession he + entered the room nefariously and removed the dead man's body."</p> + <p>"Yes, but it was a dead body when he got there—just dead. Mr. Glenthorpe was + alive and well not ten minutes before."</p> + <p>"Oh, come, Mr. Colwyn, this is going too far," Galloway expostulated. "Again, I + say, let us have no guess-work."</p> + <p>"This is not guess-work. There can be no doubt that the murderer left the room by + the window just before Benson entered it by the door."</p> + <p>"How do you know that?" asked Galloway.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_342" + id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span></p> + <p>"<i>Because he was watching Benson from the window.</i>"</p> + <p>Galloway looked startled.</p> + <p>"You go too deep for me," he said. "Was it Penreath who got out of the + window?"</p> + <p>"No, Penreath, like Benson, was the victim of a deep and subtle villain."</p> + <p>"Then who was it?"</p> + <p>Before Colwyn could reply a shriek rang out—a single hoarse and horrible + cry, which went reverberating and echoing over the marshes, rising to a piercing + intensity at its highest note, and then ceasing suddenly. In the hush that ensued the + chief constable looked nervously at Colwyn.</p> + <p>"It came from the rise," he said in a voice barely raised above a whisper. "Do you + think——"</p> + <p>Colwyn read the unspoken thought in his mind.</p> + <p>"I'll go and see what it was," he said briefly.</p> + <p>He opened the door and went out. In the passage he encountered Ann shaking and + trembling, with a face blanched with terror.</p> + <p>"It came from the pit, sir—the Shrieking Pit," she whispered. "It's the + White Lady. Don't leave me, I'm like to drop. God a' mercy, what's that?" she cried, + finding her voice in a fresh access of terror as a heavy knock smote the door. "For + God's sake, don't 'ee go, sir, don't 'ee go, as you value your life. It's the White + Lady at the door, come to take her toll again from this unhappy house. You be mad to + face her, sir—it's certain death."</p> + <p>But Colwyn loosened himself quickly from her detaining grasp, and strode to the + door. As he passed the bar he caught a glimpse of a ring of cowering frightened faces + within, huddled together like sheep, and staring<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span> with saucer eyes. The mist spanned + the doorway like a sheet.</p> + <p>"Who's there?" he cried.</p> + <p>"It's me, sir." Constable Queensmead stepped out of the mist into the passage, + looking white and shaken. "Something's happened up at the pit. While I was watching + from the corner of the wood I saw somebody appear out of the mist and come creeping + up the rise towards the pit. I waited till he got to the brink, and when he made to + climb down, I knew he was the man you were after, so I went over to the pit. He had + disappeared inside, but I could hear the creepers rustling as he went down. After a + bit, I heard him coming up again, tugging and straining at the creepers, and gasping + for breath. When he was fairly out, I turned my torch on him and told him to stand + still. It is difficult to say exactly how it happened, sir, but when he saw he was + trapped he made a kind of spring backwards, slipped on the wet clay, lost his + balance, and fell back into the pit. I sprang forward and tried to save him, but it + was too late. He caught at the creepers as he fell, hung for a second, then fell back + with a loud cry."</p> + <p>"Who was it, Queensmead?"</p> + <p>"Charles, the waiter, sir."</p> + <p>"We must get him out at once," said Colwyn. "We shall need a rope and some men. + Can you get some ropes, Queensmead? There's some men in the bar—we'll get them + to help.</p> + <p>"I don't think they're likely to come, sir. They're all too frightened of the + Shrieking Pit, and the ghost."</p> + <p>"I'll go and talk to them. Meanwhile, you go and get ropes."</p> + <p>Colwyn returned to the bar parlour and, after explain<span class='pagenum'><a + name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span>ing to Mr. Cromering and Galloway + what had happened, went into the bar.</p> + <p>"Men," said Colwyn, "Charles has fallen into the pit on the rise, and I need the + help of some of you to get him out. Queensmead has gone for ropes. Who will come with + me?"</p> + <p>There was no response. The villagers looked at each other in silence, and moved + uneasily. Then a man in jersey and sea-boots spoke:</p> + <p>"None of us dare go up to th' pit, ma'aster."</p> + <p>"Why not?"</p> + <p>"Life be sweet, ma'aster. It be a suddint and bloody end to meet th' White Lady of + th' pit. Luke what's happened to Charles, who went out of this bar not ten minutes + agone! Who knows who she may take next?"</p> + <p>"Very well, then stay where you are. You are a lot of cowards," said Colwyn, + turning away.</p> + <p>The faces of the men showed that the epithet rankled, as Colwyn intended that it + should. There was a brief pause, and then another fisherman stepped forward and + said:</p> + <p>"I'm a Norfolk man, and nobbut agoin' to say I'm afeered. I'll go wi' yow, + ma'aster."</p> + <p>"If yower game, Tom, I'll go too," said another.</p> + <p>By the time Queensmead returned with the ropes there was no lack of willing + helpers, and the party immediately set forth. When they arrived at the pit Colwyn + said that it would be best for two men to descend by separate ropes, so as to be able + to carry Charles to the surface in a blanket if he were injured, and not killed. + Colwyn had brought a blanket from the inn for the purpose.</p> + <p>"I'll go down, for one," said the seaman who had acted as spokesman in the bar. + "I'm used to tying knots and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_345" + id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span> slinging a hammock, so maybe I can make it a bit + easier for the poor chap if he's not killed outright."</p> + <p>"And I'll go with you," said Colwyn.</p> + <p>Mr. Cromering drew the detective aside.</p> + <p>"My good friend," he said, "do you think it is wise for you to descend? This man + Charles, if he is still alive, may be actuated by feelings of revenge towards you, + and seek to do you an injury."</p> + <p>"I am not afraid of that," returned Colwyn. "I laid the trap for him, and it is my + duty to go down and bring him up."</p> + <p>Colwyn left the chief constable and returned to the pit. The next moment he and + the seaman commenced the descent. They carried electric torches, and took with them a + blanket and a third rope. They were carefully lowered until the torches they carried + twinkled more faintly, and finally vanished in the gloom. A little while afterwards + the strain on the ropes slackened. The rescuers had reached the bottom of the pit. A + period of waiting ensued for those on top, until a jerk of the ropes indicated the + signal for drawing up again. The men on the surface pulled steadily. Soon the torches + were once more visible down the pit, and then the lanterns on the surface revealed + Colwyn and the fisherman, supporting between them a limp bundle wrapped in the + blanket, and tied to the third rope. As they reached the air they were helped out, + and the burden they carried was laid on the ground near the mouth of the pit. The + blanket fell away, exposing the face of Charles, waxen and still in the rays of the + light which fell upon it.</p> + <p>"Dead?" whispered Mr. Cromering.</p> + <p>"Dying," returned Colwyn. "His back is broken."</p> + <p>The dying man unclosed his eyelids, and his dark eyes, keen and brilliant as ever, + roved restlessly over the group<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_346" + id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span> who were standing around him. They rested on + Colwyn, and he lifted a feeble hand and beckoned to him. The detective knelt beside + him, and rested his head on his arm. The white lips formed one word:</p> + <p>"Closer."</p> + <p>Colwyn bent his head nearer, and those standing by could see the dying man + whispering into the detective's ear. He spoke with an effort for some minutes, and + hurriedly, like one who knew that his time was short. Then he stopped suddenly, and + his head fell back grotesquely, like a broken doll's. Colwyn felt his heart, and rose + to his feet.</p> + <p>"He is dead," he said.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg + 347]</a></span></p> + <hr style="width: 35%;" size="6" /> + <h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXIX</h2> + <p>"There are several things that I do not understand," said Superintendent Galloway + to Colwyn a little later. "How were you able to decide so quickly that Benson had + told the truth when he declared that he had not committed the murder, after he had + made the damning admission that he had removed the body?"</p> + <p>"Partly because it was extremely unlikely that Benson could have invented a story + which fitted so nicely with the facts. The slightest mistake in his times would have + proved him to be a liar. But I had more than that to go upon. I said this afternoon + that my reconstruction was not wholly satisfactory, because there were several loose + ends in it. At that time I believed he was the murderer, and I was anxious to + frighten the truth out of him in order to see where my reconstruction was at fault. + His story proved that my original conception of the crime was the correct one, and my + mistake was in departing from it, and ignoring some of my original clues in order to + square the new facts with a fresh theory. I should never have lost sight of my first + conviction that there were two persons in Mr. Glenthorpe's room the night he was + murdered.</p> + <p>"When Benson told his story I asked myself, Could Charles' conduct be dictated by + the desire to have a hold over Benson—with a view to blackmail later on? But he + was not likely to risk his own neck by becoming an accomplice in the concealment of + the murdered man's body! Charles, if he were innocent himself, must have thought that + Benson was the murderer. It was impos<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_348" + id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span>sible that he could have come to any other + conclusion. He discovers a man washing blood off his hands at midnight, and this man + admits to him that he has just come from a room which he had no right to enter, and + found a dead man there. Why had Charles believed—or pretended to + believe—Benson's story?</p> + <p>"It came to me suddenly, with the recollection of the line under the murdered + man's window—one of the clues which I had discarded—and the whole of this + baffling sinister mystery became clear in my mind. The murder was committed by + Charles, who got out of the window by which he had entered just before Benson came + into the room. Charles saw a light in the room he had left, and returned to the + window to investigate. Crouching outside the window, he saw Benson in the room, + examining the body, and it came into his mind as he watched that his employer had + conceived the same idea as himself—had seized on the presence of a stranger + staying at the inn in order to rob Mr. Glenthorpe, hoping that the crime would be + attributed to the man who slept in the next room. Charles was quick to see how + Benson's presence in the room might be turned to his own advantage. Charles had taken + precautions, in committing the murder, to leave clues in the room which should direct + suspicion to Penreath, but the innkeeper's visit to the room suggested to him an even + better plan for securing his own safety. When Benson left the room Charles got + through the window again, and followed him downstairs.</p> + <p>"Charles' story, told to me when he was dying, filled in the gaps which I have + omitted. He said that he watched the whole of Benson's movements from the window. He + saw him searching for the money, saw him feel the body, and saw the blood on his + hands. When Benson turned to leave the room he forgot the candle,<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a></span> and it was then + that the idea of following him leapt into Charles' mind. He divined that Benson would + go downstairs and wash the blood off his hands. Charles' idea was to go after him and + surprise him in the act. He followed him swiftly, and was never more than a few feet + behind. While Benson was striking a match and lighting the kitchen candle Charles + slipped into his own room, lit his own candle, and then emerged from his door as + though he had been disturbed in his sleep. The rest of his plan was easily carried + out through the fears of Benson, who agreed, in his own interests, to conceal the + body of the man whom the other had murdered.</p> + <p>"The clue by which Penreath was virtually convicted—the track of bootmarks + to the pit—was an accidental one so far as Charles was concerned. It is strange + to think that Chance, which removed the clues Charles deliberately placed in the + room, should have achieved Charles' aim by directing suspicion to Penreath in a + different, yet more convincing manner.</p> + <p>"The murderer's revelation clears up those points which I was unable to settle + this afternoon. He entered Mr. Glenthorpe's room during the heaviest part of the + storm. He carried a box, under his arm, because he was too short to get into the + window without something to stand on, he shielded himself from the rain with an + umbrella, which got caught on the nail by the window, and he lit a tallow candle + which he had brought from the bar.</p> + <p>"Another clue, which I originally discovered and laid aside, is also explained. + The wound in Mr. Glenthorpe's body struck me as an unusual one. You heard Sir Henry + Durwood say, in answer to my questions, that the blow was a slanting one, struck from + the left side, entering almost parallel with the ribs, yet piercing the<span + class='pagenum'><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</a></span> heart on the + right side. The manner in which Mr. Glenthorpe's arms were thrown out, his legs drawn + up, proved that he was lying on his back when murdered. For that reason, the + direction of the blow suggested Charles as the murderer."</p> + <p>"I am afraid I do not follow you there," said Mr. Cromering.</p> + <p>"Charles had a malformed right hand; his left hand was his only serviceable one. + The blow that killed Mr. Glenthorpe struck me at the time as a left-handed blow. The + natural direction of a right-handed blow, with the body in such a position, would be + from right to left—not from left to right. But, after considering this point + carefully, I came to the conclusion that the blow might have been struck by a + right-handed man. I was wrong."</p> + <p>"I do not think you have much cause to blame yourself," said the chief constable. + "You were right in your original conception of the crime, and right in your later + reconstruction in every particular except——"</p> + <p>"Except that I picked the wrong man," said Colwyn, with a slightly bitter laugh. + "My consolation is that Benson's confession brought the truth to light, as I expected + it would."</p> + <p>"It took you to see the truth," said Galloway. "I should never have picked it. I + suppose there has never been a case like it."</p> + <p>"There is nothing new—not even in the annals of crime," returned Colwyn. + "But this was certainly a baffling and unusual case. The murderer was such a deep and + subtle scoundrel that I feel a respect for his intelligence, perverted though it was. + His master stroke was the disposal of the body. That shielded him from suspicion as + completely as an alibi. I put aside my first suspicion of him largely because I + realised that it was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[Pg + 351]</a></span> impossible for a man with a deformed arm to carry away the body. Such + a sardonic situation as a murderer persuading another man that he was likely to be + suspected of the murder unless he removed the body was one that never occurred to me. + That, at all events, is something new in my experience."</p> + <p>"It is a wonder that Charles, with his deformed arm, was able to go down the pit + and conceal the money," said the chief constable.</p> + <p>"He did not go down very far. It is not a difficult matter to climb down the + creepers inside with the support of one hand, and he was able to use the other + sufficiently to thrust the small peg into the soft earth. He first hid the money in + the breakwater wall, being too careful and clever to hide it in the pit until after + the inquest. When he had concealed it in the pit he revived the story of the White + Lady of the Shrieking Pit so as to keep the credulous villagers away from the spot. + He need not have taken that precaution, because the hiding place was an excellent + one, and it was only by chance that I discovered the money when I descended the pit. + But he left nothing to chance. The use of the umbrella on the night of the murder + proves that. Murderers do not usually carry umbrellas, but he did, because he feared + that if his clothes got wet they might be seen in his room the following day, and + direct suspicion to him. He chose to commit the crime when the storm was at its + height because he thought he was safest from the likelihood of discovery then.</p> + <p>"The callous scoundrel told me with his last breath that he was waiting until + Penreath was safely hanged before disappearing with the money. When he opened the + door to us to-night, he knew that he was at the end of his tether, and he decided to + try to bolt. He realised<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[Pg + 352]</a></span> that Benson would tell the truth when he was questioned and, although + the innkeeper's story did not implicate him directly, he did our common intelligence + the justice to believe that, through his dupe's confession, we should arrive at the + truth."</p> + <h2>THE END</h2> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Shrieking Pit, by Arthur J. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Shrieking Pit + +Author: Arthur J. Rees + +Release Date: February 2, 2007 [EBook #20494] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SHRIEKING PIT *** + + + + +Produced by Marcia, Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + +THE +SHRIEKING PIT + +BY + +ARTHUR J. REES + +CO-AUTHOR OF +THE MYSTERY OF THE DOWNS, +THE HAMPSTEAD MYSTERY. + +NEW YORK +GROSSET & DUNLAP +PUBLISHERS + +Made in the United States of America + + +COPYRIGHT, 1918, +BY STREET & SMITH CORPORATION + +COPYRIGHT, 1919, +BY JOHN LANE COMPANY + + ++--------------------------------------------------------------------+ +|Transcriber's Notes: Obvious printer errors have been corrected, all| +|other inconsistencies are as in the original. | ++--------------------------------------------------------------------+ + + + + +TO + +MY SISTERS IN AUSTRALIA + +ANNIE AND FRANCES + + + _The sea beats in at Blakeney-- + Beats wild and waste at Blakeney; + O'er ruined quay and cobbled street, + O'er broken masts of fisher fleet, + Which go no more to sea._ + + _The bitter pools at ebb-tide lie, + In barren sands at Blakeney; + Green, grey and green the marshes creep, + To where the grey north waters leap + By dead and silent Blakeney._ + + _And Time is dead at Blakeney-- + In old, forgotten Blakeney; + What care they for Time's Scythe or Glass; + Who do not feel the hours pass, + Who sleep in sea-worn Blakeney?_ + + _By the old grey church in Blakeney, + By quenched turret light in Blakeney, + They slumber deep, they do not know, + If Life's told tale is Death and Woe; + Through all eternity._ + + _But Love still lives at Blakeney, + 'Tis graven deep at Blakeney; + Of Love which seeks beyond the grave, + Of Love's sad faith which fain would save-- + The headstones tell the story._ + + _Grave-grasses grow at Blakeney + Sea pansies, sedge, and rosemary; + Frail fronds thrust forth in dim dank air, + A message from those lying there: + Wan leaves of memory._ + + _I send you this from Blakeney-- + From distant, dreaming Blakeney; + Love and Remembrance: These are sure; + Though Death is strong they shall endure, + Till all things cease to be._ + +_A. J. R._ + +_Blakeney, +Norfolk._ + + + + +PREFACE + + +As the scenes of this story are laid in a part of Norfolk which will be +readily identified by many Norfolk people, it is perhaps well to state +that all the personages are fictitious, and that the Norfolk police +officials who appear in the book have no existence outside these pages. +They and the other characters are drawn entirely from imagination. + +To East Anglian readers I offer my apologies for any faults there may be +in reproducing the Norfolk dialect. My excuse is the fascination the +language produced on myself, and that it is as essential to the scene of +the story as the marshes and the sea. Though I have found it impossible +to transliterate the pronunciation into the ordinary English alphabet, I +hope I have been able to convey enough of the characteristic speech of +the native to enable those familiar with it to put it for themselves +into the accents of their own people. To those who are not familiar with +the dialect, I can only say, "Go and study this relic of old English in +that remote part of the country where the story is laid, where the +ghosts of a ruined past mingle with the primitive survivors of to-day, +who walk very near the unseen." + + +A. J. R. +LONDON + + + + +THE SHRIEKING PIT + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +Colwyn had never seen anything quite so eccentric in a public room as +the behaviour of the young man breakfasting alone at the alcove table in +the bay embrasure, and he became so absorbed in watching him that he +permitted his own meal to grow cold, impatiently waving away the waiter +who sought with obtrusive obsequiousness to recall his wandering +attention by thrusting the menu card before him. + +To outward seeming the occupant of the alcove table was a good-looking +young man, whose clear blue eyes, tanned skin and well-knit frame +indicated the truly national product of common sense, cold water, and +out-of-door pursuits; of a wholesomely English if not markedly +intellectual type, pleasant to look at, and unmistakably of good birth +and breeding. When a young man of this description, your fellow guest at +a fashionable seaside hotel, who had been in the habit of giving you a +courteous nod on his morning journey across the archipelago of +snowy-topped tables under the convoy of the head waiter to his own +table, comes in to breakfast with shaking hands, flushed face, and +passes your table with unseeing eyes, you would probably conclude that +he was under the influence of liquor, and in your English way you would +severely blame him, not so much for the moral turpitude involved in his +excess as for the bad taste, which prompted him to show himself in public +in such a condition. If, on reaching his place, the young man's conduct +took the additional extravagant form of picking up a table-knife and +sticking it into the table in front of him, you would probably enlarge +your previous conclusion by admitting the hypotheses of drugs or +dementia to account for such remarkable behaviour. + +All these things were done by the young man at the alcove table in the +breakfast room of the Grand Hotel, Durrington, on an October morning in +the year 1916; but Colwyn, who was only half an Englishman, and, +moreover, had an original mind, did not attribute them to drink, +morphia, or madness. Colwyn flattered himself that he knew the outward +signs of these diseases too well to be deceived into thinking that the +splendid specimen of young physical manhood at the far table was the +victim of any of them. His own impression was that it was a case of +shell-shock. It was true that, apart from the doubtful evidence of a +bronzed skin and upright frame, there was nothing about him to suggest +that he had been a soldier: no service lapel or regimental badge in his +grey Norfolk jacket. But an Englishman of his class would be hardly +likely to wear either once he had left the Army. It was almost certain +that he must have seen service in the war, and by no means improbable +that he had been bowled over by shell-shock, like many thousands more of +equally splendid specimens of young manhood. Any other conclusion to +account for the strange condition of a young man like him seemed +unworthy and repellent. + +"It _must_ be shell-shock, and a very bad case--probably supposed to be +cured, and sent up here to recuperate," thought Colwyn. "I'll keep an +eye on him." + +As Colwyn resumed his breakfast it occurred to him that some of the +other guests might have been alarmed by the young man's behaviour, and +he cast his eyes round the room to see if anybody else had noticed him. + +There were about thirty guests in the big breakfast apartment, which had +been built to accommodate five times the number--a charming, luxuriously +furnished place, with massive white pillars supporting a frescoed +ceiling, and lighted by numerous bay windows opening on to the North +Sea, which was sparkling brightly in a brilliant October sunshine. The +thirty people comprised the whole of the hotel visitors, for in the year +1916 holiday seekers preferred some safer resort than a part of the +Norfolk coast which lay in the track of enemy airships seeking a way to +London. + +Two nights before a Zeppelin had dropped a couple of bombs on the +Durrington front, and the majority of hotel visitors had departed by the +next morning's train, disregarding the proprietor's assurance that the +affair was a pure accident, a German oversight which was not likely to +happen again. Off the nervous ones went, and left the big hotel, the +long curved seafront, the miles of yellow sand, the high green +headlands, the best golf-links in the East of England, and all the other +attractions mentioned in the hotel advertisements, to a handful of +people, who were too nerve-proof, lazy, fatalistic, or indifferent to +bother about Zeppelins. + +These thirty guests, scattered far and wide over the spacious isolation +of the breakfast-room, in twos and threes, and little groups, seemed, +with one exception, too engrossed in the solemn British rite of +beginning the day well with a good breakfast to bother their heads about +the conduct of the young man at the alcove table. They were, for the +most part, characteristic war-time holiday-makers: the men, obviously +above military age, in Norfolk tweeds or golf suits; two young officers +at a table by the window, and--as indifference to Zeppelins is not +confined to the sterner sex--a sprinkling of ladies, plump and matronly, +or of the masculine walking type, with two charmingly pretty girls and a +gay young war widow to leaven the mass. + +The exception was a tall and portly gentleman with a slightly bald head, +glossy brown beard, gold-rimmed eye-glasses perilously balanced on a +prominent nose, and an important manner. He was breakfasting alone at a +table not far from Colwyn's, and Colwyn noticed that he kept glancing at +the alcove table where the young man sat. As Colwyn looked in his +direction their eyes met, and the portly gentleman nodded portentously +in the direction of the alcove table, as an indication that he also had +been watching the curious behaviour of the occupant. A moment afterwards +he got up and walked across to the pillar against which Colwyn's table +was placed. + +"Will you permit me to take a seat at your table?" he remarked urbanely. +"I am afraid we are going to have trouble over there directly," he +added, sinking his voice as he nodded in the direction of the distant +alcove table. "We may have to act promptly. Nobody else seems to have +noticed anything. We can watch him from behind this pillar without his +seeing us." + +Colwyn nodded in return with a quick comprehension of all the other's +speech implied, and pushed a chair towards his visitor, who sat down and +resumed his watch of the young man at the alcove table. Colwyn bestowed +a swift glance on his companion which took in everything. The tall man +in glasses looked too human for a lawyer, too intelligent for a +schoolmaster, and too well-dressed for an ordinary medical man. Colwyn, +versed in judging men swiftly from externals, noting the urbane, +somewhat pompous face, the authoritative, professional pose, the +well-shaped, plump white hands, and the general air of well-being and +prosperity which exuded from the whole man, placed him as a successful +practitioner in the more lucrative path of medicine--probably a +fashionable Harley Street specialist. + +Colwyn returned to his scrutiny of the young man at the alcove table, +and he and his companion studied him intently for some time in silence. +But the young man, for the moment, was comparatively quiet, gazing +moodily through the open window over the waters of the North Sea, an +untasted sole in front of him, and an impassive waiter pouring out his +coffee as though the spectacle of a young man sticking a knife into the +table-cloth was a commonplace occurrence at the Grand Hotel, and all in +the day's doings. When the waiter had finished pouring out the coffee +and noiselessly departed, the young man tasted it with an indifferent +air, pushed it from him, and resumed his former occupation of staring +out of the window. + +"He seems quiet enough now," observed Colwyn, turning to his companion. +"What do you think is the matter with him--shell-shock?" + +"I would not care to hazard a definite opinion on so cursory an +observation," returned the other, in a dry, reticent, ultra-professional +manner. "But I will go so far as to say that I do not think it is a case +of shell-shock. If it is what I suspect, that first attack was the +precursor of another, possibly a worse attack. Ha! it is commencing. +Look at his thumb--that is the danger signal!" + +Colwyn looked across the room again. The young man was still sitting in +the same posture, with his gaze bent on the open sea. His left hand was +extended rigidly on the table in front of him, with the thumb, extended +at right angles, oscillating rapidly in a peculiar manner. + +"This attack may pass away like the other, but if he looks round at +anybody, and makes the slightest move, we must secure him immediately," +said Colwyn's companion, speaking in a whisper. + +He had barely finished speaking when the young man turned his head from +the open window and fixed his blue eyes vacantly on the table nearest +him, where an elderly clergyman, a golfing friend, and their wives, were +breakfasting together. With a swift movement the young man got up, and +started to walk towards this table. + +Colwyn, who was watching every movement of the young man closely, could +not determine, then or afterwards, whether he meditated an attack on the +occupants of the next table, or merely intended to leave the breakfast +room. The clergyman's table was directly in front of the alcove and in a +line with the pair of swinging glass doors which were the only exit from +the breakfast-room. But Colwyn's companion did not wait for the matter +to be put to the test. At the first movement of the young man he sprang +to his feet and, without waiting to see whether Colwyn was following +him, raced across the room and caught the young man by the arm while he +was yet some feet away from the clergyman's table. The young man +struggled desperately in his grasp for some moments, then suddenly +collapsed and fell inert in the other's arms. Colwyn walked over to the +spot in time to see his portly companion lay the young man down on the +carpet and bend over to loosen his collar. + +The young man lay apparently unconscious on the floor, breathing +stertorously, with convulsed features and closed eyes. After the lapse +of some minutes he opened his eyes, glanced listlessly at the circle of +frightened people who had gathered around him, and feebly endeavoured +to sit up. Colwyn's companion, who was bending over him feeling his +heart, helped him to a sitting posture, and then, glancing at the faces +crowded around, exclaimed in a sharp voice: + +"He wants air. Please move back there a little." + +"Certainly, Sir Henry." It was a stout man in a check golfing suit who +spoke. "But the ladies are very anxious to know if it is anything +serious." + +"No, no. He will be quite all right directly. Just fall back, and give +him more air. Here, you!"--this to one of the gaping waiters--"just slip +across to the office and find out the number of this gentleman's room." + +The waiter hurried away and speedily returned with the proprietor of the +hotel, a little man in check trousers and a frock coat, with a bald head +and an anxious, yet resigned eye which was obviously prepared for the +worst. His demeanour was that of a man who, already overloaded by +misfortune, was bracing his sinews to bear the last straw. As he +approached the group near the alcove table he smoothed his harassed +features into an expression of solicitude, and, addressing himself to +the man who was supporting the young man on the floor, said, in a voice +intended to be sympathetic, + +"I thought I had better come myself, Sir Henry. I could not understand +from Antoine what you wanted or what had happened. Antoine said +something about somebody dying in the breakfast-room----" + +"Nothing of the sort!" snapped the gentleman addressed as Sir Henry, +shifting his posture a little so as to enable the young man to lean +against his shoulder. "Haven't you eyes in your head, Willsden? Cannot +you see for yourself that this gentleman has merely had a fainting +fit?" + +"I'm delighted to hear it, Sir Henry," replied the hotel proprietor. But +his face expressed no visible gratification. To a man who had had his +hotel emptied by a Zeppelin raid the difference between a single guest +fainting instead of dying was merely infinitesimal. + +"Who is this gentleman, and what's the number of his room?" continued +Sir Henry. "He will be better lying quietly on his bed." + +"His name is Ronald, and his room is No. 32--on the first floor, Sir +Henry." + +"Very good. I'll take him up there at once." + +"Shall I help you, Sir Henry? Perhaps he could be carried up. One of the +waiters could take his feet, or perhaps it would be better to have two." + +"There's not the slightest necessity. He'll be able to walk in a +minute--with a little assistance. Ah, that's better!" The abrupt manner +in which Sir Henry addressed the hotel proprietor insensibly softened +itself into the best bedside manner when he spoke to the patient on the +carpet, who, from a sitting posture, was now endeavouring to struggle to +his feet. "You think you can get up, eh? Well, it won't do you any harm. +That's the way!" Sir Henry assisted the young man to rise, and supported +him with his arm. "Now, the next thing is to get him to his room. No, +no, not you, Willsden--you're too small. Where's that gentleman I was +sitting with a few minutes ago? Ah, thank you"--as Colwyn stepped +forward and took the other arm--"now, let us take him gently upstairs." + +The young man allowed himself to be led away without resistance. He +walked, or rather stumbled, along between his guides like a man in a +dream. Colwyn noticed that his eyes were half-closed, and that his head +sagged slightly from side to side as he was led along. A waiter held +open the glass doors which led into the lounge, and a palpitating +chambermaid, hastily summoned from the upper regions, tripped ahead up +the broad carpeted stairs and along the passage to show the way to the +young man's bedroom. + + + +CHAPTER II + + +Sir Henry dismissed the chambermaid at the door, and Colwyn and he +lifted the young man on to the bed. He lay like a man in a stupor, +breathing heavily, his face flushed, his eyes nearly closed. Sir Henry +drew up the blind, and by the additional light examined him thoroughly, +listening closely to the action of his heart, and examining the pupils +of his eyes by rolling back the upper lid with some small instrument he +took from his pocket. + +"He'll do now," he said, after loosening the patient's clothes for his +greater comfort. "He'll come to in about five minutes, and may be all +right again shortly afterwards. But there are certain peculiar features +about this case which are new in my experience, and rather alarm me. +Certainly the young man ought not to be left to himself. His friends +should be sent for. Do you know anything about him? Is he staying at the +hotel alone? I only arrived here last night." + +"I believe he is staying at the hotel alone. He has been here for a +fortnight or more, and I have never seen him speak to anybody, though I +have exchanged nods with him every morning. His principal recreation +seems to lie in taking long solitary walks along the coast. He has been +in the habit of going out every day, and not returning until dinner is +half over. Perhaps the hotel proprietor knows who his friends are." + +"Would you be so kind as to step downstairs and inquire? I do not wish +to leave him, but his friends should be telegraphed to at once and asked +to come and take charge of him." + +"Certainly. And I'll send the telegram while I am down there." + +But Colwyn returned in a few moments to say that the hotel proprietor +knew nothing of his guest. He had never stayed in the house before, and +he had booked his room by a trunk call from London. On arrival he had +filled in the registration paper in the name of James Ronald, but had +left blank the spaces for his private and business addresses. He looked +such a gentleman that the proprietor had not ventured to draw his +attention to the omissions. + +"Another instance of how hotels neglect to comply with the requirements +of the Defence of the Realm Act!" exclaimed Sir Henry. "Really, it is +very awkward. I hardly know, in the circumstances, how to act. Speaking +as a medical man, I say that he should not be left alone, but if he +orders us out of his room when he recovers his senses what are we to do? +Can you suggest anything?" He shot a keen glance at his companion. + +"I should be in a better position to answer you if I knew what you +consider him to be really suffering from. I was under the impression it +was a bad case of shell-shock, but your remarks suggest that it is +something worse. May I ask, as you are a medical man, what you consider +the nature of his illness?" + +Sir Henry bestowed another searching glance on the speaker. He noted, +for the first time, the keen alertness and intellectuality of the +other's face. It was a fine strong face, with a pair of luminous grey +eyes, a likeable long nose, and clean-shaven, humorous mouth--a man to +trust and depend upon. + +"I hardly know what to do," said Sir Henry, after a lengthy pause, which +he had evidently devoted to considering the wisdom of acceding to his +companion's request. "This gentleman has not consulted me +professionally, and I hardly feel justified in confiding my hurried and +imperfect diagnosis of his case, without his knowledge, to a perfect +stranger. On the other hand, there are reasons why somebody should know, +if we are to help him in his weak state. Perhaps, sir, if you told me +your name----" + +"Certainly: my name is Colwyn--Grant Colwyn." + +"You are the famous American detective of that name?" + +"You are good enough to say so." + +"Why not? Who has not heard of you, and your skill in the unravelling of +crime? There are many people on both sides of the Atlantic who regard +you as a public benefactor. But I am surprised. You do not at all +resemble my idea of Colwyn." + +"Why not?" + +"You do not talk like an American, for one thing." + +"You forget I have been over here long enough to learn the language. +Besides, I am half English." + +Sir Henry laughed good-humouredly. + +"That's a fair answer, Mr. Colwyn. Of course, your being Colwyn alters +the question. I have no hesitation in confiding in you. I am Sir Henry +Durwood--no doubt you have heard of me. Naturally, I have to be +careful." + +Colwyn looked at his companion with renewed interest. Who had not heard +of Sir Henry Durwood, the nerve specialist whose skill had made his name +a household word amongst the most exclusive women in England, and, +incidentally, won him a knighthood? There were professional detractors +who hinted that Sir Henry had climbed into the heaven of Harley Street +and fat fees by the ladder of social influence which a wealthy, +well-born wife had provided, with no qualifications of his own except +"the best bedside manner in England" and a thorough knowledge of the +weaknesses of the feminine temperament. But his admirers--and they were +legion--declared that Sir Henry Durwood was the only man in London who +really understood how to treat the complex nervous system of the present +generation. These thoughts ran through Colwyn's mind as he murmured that +the opinion of such an eminent specialist as Sir Henry Durwood on the +case before them must naturally outweigh his own. + +"You are very good to say so." Sir Henry spoke as though the tribute +were no more than his due. "In my opinion, the symptoms of this young +man point to epilepsy, and his behaviour downstairs was due to a seizure +from which he is slowly recovering." + +"Epilepsy! Haut or petit mal?" + +"The lesser form--petit mal, in my opinion." + +"But are his symptoms consistent with the form of epilepsy known as +petit mal, Sir Henry? I thought in that lesser form of the disease the +victim merely suffered from slight seizures of transient +unconsciousness, without convulsions, regaining control of himself after +losing himself, to speak broadly, for a few seconds or so." + +"Ah, I see you know something of the disease. That simplifies matters. +The layman's mind is usually at sea when it comes to discussing a +complicated affection of the nervous system like epilepsy. You are more +or less right in your definition of petit mal. But that is the simple +form, without complications. In this case there are complications, in my +opinion. I should say that this young man's attack was combined with the +form of epilepsy known as _furor epilepticus_." + +"I am afraid you are getting beyond my depth, Sir Henry. What is _furor +epilepticus_?" + +"It is a term applied to the violence sometimes displayed by the +patient during an attack of petit mal. The manifestation is extreme +violence--usually much greater than in violent anger, as a rule." + +"I believe there are cases on record of epileptics having committed the +most violent outrages against those nearest and dearest to them. Is that +what you mean by _furor epilepticus_?" + +"Yes; but that attacks are generally directed towards strangers--rarely +towards loved ones, though there have been such cases." + +"I begin to understand. When we were at the breakfast table your +professional eye diagnosed this young man's symptoms--his nervous +tremors, his excitability, and the extravagant action with the knife--as +premonitory symptoms of an attack of _furor epilepticus_, in which the +sufferer would be liable to a dangerous outburst of violence?" + +"Exactly. The minor symptoms suggested petit mal, but the act of +sticking the knife into the table pointed strongly to the complication +of _furor epilepticus_. That was why I went over to your table to have +your assistance in case of trouble." + +"You feared he would attack one of the guests?" + +"Yes, epileptics are extremely dangerous in that condition, and will +commit murder if they are in possession of a weapon. There have been +cases in which they have succeeded in killing the victims of their +fury." + +"Without being conscious of it?" + +"Without being conscious of it then or afterwards. After the patient +recovers from one of these attacks his mind is generally a complete +blank, but occasionally he will have a troubled or confused sense of +something having happened to him--like a man awakened from a bad dream, +which he cannot recall. This young man may come to his senses without +remembering anything which occurred downstairs, or he may be vaguely +alarmed, and ask a number of questions. In either case, it will be some +time--from half an hour to several hours--before his mind begins to work +normally again." + +"Do you think it was his intention, when he got up from his table, to +attack the group at the table nearest him--that elderly clergyman and +his party?" + +"I think it highly probable that he would have attacked the first person +within his reach--that is why I wanted to prevent him." + +"But he didn't carry the knife with him from his table." + +"My dear sir"--Sir Henry's voice conveyed the proper amount of +professional superiority--"you speak as though you thought a victim of +_furor epilepticus_ was a rational being. He is nothing of the kind. +While the attack lasts he is an uncontrollable maniac, not responsible +for his actions in the slightest degree." + +"But, if he is capable of conceiving the idea of attacking his fellow +creatures, surely he is capable of picking up a knife for the purpose, +particularly when he has just previously had one in his hand?" urged +Colwyn. "I have no intention of setting up my opinion against yours, Sir +Henry, but there are certain aspects of this young man's illness which +are not altogether consistent with my own experience of epileptics. As a +criminologist, I have given some study to the effect of epilepsy and +other nervous diseases on the criminal temperament. For instance, this +young man did not give the usual cry of an epileptic when he sprang up +from the table. And if it is merely an attack of petit mal, why is he so +long in recovering consciousness?" + +"The so-called epileptic cry is not invariably present, and petit mal +is sometimes the half-way house to haut mal," responded Sir Henry. "I +have said that this case presents several unusual features, but, in my +opinion, there is nothing absolutely inconsistent with epilepsy, +combined with _furor epilepticus_. And here is one symptom rarely found +in any fit except an epileptic seizure." The specialist pointed to a +faint fleck of foam which showed beneath the young man's brown +moustache. + +Colwyn bent over him and wiped his lips with his handkerchief. As he did +so the young man's eyes unclosed. He regarded Colwyn languidly for a +moment or two, and then sat upright on the bed. + +"Who are you?" he exclaimed. + +"It's quite all right, Mr. Ronald," said the specialist, in his most +soothing bedside manner. "Just take things easily. You have been ill, +but you are almost yourself again. Let me feel your pulse--ha, very good +indeed! We will have you on your legs in no time." + +The young man verified the truth of the latter prediction by springing +off his bed and regarding his visitors keenly. There was now, at all +events, no lack of sanity and intelligence in his gaze. + +"What has happened? How did I get here?" + +"You fainted, and we brought you up to your room," interposed Colwyn +tactfully, before Sir Henry could speak. + +"Awfully kind of you. I remember now. I felt a bit seedy as I went +downstairs, but I thought it would pass off. I don't remember much more +about it. I hope I didn't make too much of an ass of myself before the +others, going off like a girl in that way. You must have had no end of a +bother in dragging me upstairs--very good of you to take the trouble." +He smiled faintly, and produced a cigarette case. + +"How do you feel now?" asked Sir Henry Durwood solemnly, disregarding +the proffered case. + +"A bit as though I'd been kicked on the top of the head by a horse, but +it'll soon pass off. Fact is, I got a touch of sun when I was out +there"--he waved his hand vaguely towards the East--"and it gives me a +bit of trouble at times. But I'll be all right directly. I'm sorry to +have given you so much trouble." + +He proffered this explanation with an easy courtesy, accompanied by a +slight deprecating smile which admirably conveyed the regret of a +well-bred man for having given trouble to strangers. It was difficult to +reconcile his self-control with his previous extravagance downstairs. +But to Colwyn it was apparent that his composure was simulated, the +effort of a sensitive man who had betrayed a weakness to strangers, for +the fingers which held a cigarette trembled slightly, and there were +troubled shadows in the depths of the dark blue eyes. Colwyn admired the +young man's pluck--he would wish to behave the same way himself in +similar circumstances, he felt--and he realised that the best service he +and Sir Henry Durwood could render their fellow guest was to leave him +alone. + +But Sir Henry was far from regarding the matter in the same light. As a +doctor he was more at home in other people's bedrooms than his own, for +rumour whispered that Lady Durwood was so jealous of her husband's +professional privileges as a fashionable ladies' physician that she was +in the habit of administering strong doses of matrimonial truths to him +every night at home. Sir Henry settled himself in his chair, adjusted +his eye-glasses more firmly on his nose and regarded the young man +standing by the mantelpiece with a bland professional smile, slightly +dashed by the recollection that he was not receiving a fee for his +visit. + +"You have made a good recovery, but you'll need care," he said. +"Speaking as a professional man--I am Sir Henry Durwood--I think it +would be better for you if you had somebody with you who understood your +case. With your--er--complaint, it is very desirable that you should not +be left to the mercy of strangers. I would advise, strongly advise you, +to communicate with your friends. I shall be only too happy to do so on +your behalf if you will give me their address. In the meantime--until +they arrive--my advice to you is to rest." + +A look of annoyance flashed through the young man's eyes. He evidently +resented the specialist's advice; indeed, his glance plainly revealed +that he regarded it as a piece of gratuitous impertinence. He answered +coldly: + +"Many thanks, Sir Henry, but I think I shall be able to look after +myself." + +"That is not an uncommon feature of your complaint," said the +specialist. An oracular shake of the head conveyed more than the words. + +"What do you imagine my complaint, as you term it, to be?" asked the +young man curtly. + +Colwyn wondered whether even a fashionable physician, used to the +freedom with which fashionable ladies discussed their ailments, would +have the courage to tell a stranger that he regarded him as an +epileptic. The matter was not put to the test--perhaps fortunately--for +at that moment there was a sharp tap at the door, which opened to admit +a chambermaid who seemed the last word in frills and smartness. + +"If you please, Sir Henry," said the girl, with a sidelong glance at the +tall handsome young man by the mantelpiece, "Lady Durwood would be +obliged if you would go to her room at once." + +It speaks well for Sir Henry Durwood that the physician was instantly +merged in the husband. "Tell Lady Durwood I will come at once," he said. +"You'll excuse me," he added, with a courtly bow to his patient. +"Perhaps--if you wish--you might care to see me later." + +"Many thanks, Sir Henry, but there will be no need." He bowed gravely to +the specialist, but smiled cordially and held out his hand to Colwyn, as +the latter prepared to follow Sir Henry out of the room. "I hope to see +you later," he said. + +But when Colwyn, after a day spent on the golf-links, went into the +dining-room for dinner that evening, the young man's place was vacant. +After the meal Colwyn went to the office to inquire if Mr. Ronald was +still unwell, and learnt, to his surprise, that he had departed from the +hotel an hour or so after his illness. + + + +CHAPTER III + + +Lunch was over the following day, and the majority of the hotel guests +were assembled in the lounge, some sitting round a log fire which roared +and crackled in the old-fashioned fireplace, others wandering backwards +and forwards to the hotel entrance to cast a weather eye on the black +and threatening sky. + +During the night there had been one of those violent changes in the +weather with which the denizens of the British Isles are not altogether +unfamiliar; a heavy storm had come shrieking down the North Sea, and +though the rain had ceased about eleven o'clock the wind had blown hard +all through the night, bringing with it from the Arctic a driving sleet +and the first touch of bitter, icy, winter cold. + +The ladies of the hotel, who the previous day had paraded the front in +light summer frocks, sat shivering round the fire in furs; and the men +walked up and down in little groups discussing the weather and the war. +The golfers stood apart debating, after their wont, the possibility of +trying a round in spite of the weather. The elderly clergyman was +prepared to risk it if he could find a partner, and, with the aid of an +umbrella held upside down, was demonstrating to an attentive circle the +possibility of going round the most open course in England in the teeth +of the fiercest gale that ever blew, provided that a brassy was used +instead of a driver. + +"I don't see how you could drive a ball with either to-day," said one +of the doubtful ones. "You'd be driving right against the wind for the +first four holes, and when you have the wind behind you at the bend in +the cliff by the fifth, the force of the gale would probably carry your +ball half a mile out to sea. These links here are supposed to be the +most exposed in England." + +"My dear sir, you surely do not call this a gale," retorted the +clergyman. "I have played some of my best games in a stronger wind than +this. And as for this being the most exposed course in England--well, +let me ask you one question: have you ever played over the Worthing +course with a strong northeast gale--a gale, mind you, not a +wind--sweeping over the Downs?" + +"Can't say I have," grunted the previous speaker, a tall cadaverous man, +wrapped from head to foot in a great grey ulster, and wearing woollen +gloves. "In fact, I've never been on the Worthing course." + +"I thought not." The clergyman's face showed a golfer's satisfaction at +having tripped a fellow player. "The Worthing course is the most +difficult course in England, all up hill and down dale, and full of +pitfalls for those who don't know its peculiarities. I had a very +remarkable experience there, last year, with the crack local player--his +handicap was plus two. We played a round in a gale with the wind +whistling over the high downs at the rate of seventy or eighty miles an +hour. My partner didn't want to play at first because of the weather, +but I persuaded him to go round, and I beat him by two up and four to +play solely by relying on the brassy and midiron. He stuck to the +driver, and lost in consequence. I'll just show you how the game went. +Suppose the first hole to be just beyond the hall door there, and you +drive off from here. Now, imagine that umbrella stand--would you mind +moving away a little from it, sir? Thank you--to be a group of fir trees +fully a hundred yards to the right of the fairway. Well, I got a shot +160 yards up the fairway with a low straight ball which never lifted +more than a yard from the green, but my opponent, instead of sticking to +the brassy, as I did, preferred to use his big driver, and what do you +think happened to him? The wind took his ball clean over the fir trees." + +The story was interrupted by the sudden entrance from outside of a young +officer who had been taking a turn on the front. He strode hurriedly +into the lounge, with a look of excitement on his good-humoured boyish +face, and accosted the golfers, who happened to be nearest the door. + +"I say, you fellows, what do you think has happened? You remember that +chap who fainted yesterday morning? Well, he's wanted for committing a +murder!" + +The piece of news created the sensation that its imparter had counted +upon. "A murder!" was echoed from different parts of the lounge in +varying degrees of horror, amazement and dread, and the majority of the +guests came eagerly crowding round to hear the details. + +"Yes, a murder!" repeated the young officer, with relish. "And, what's +more, he committed it after he left here yesterday. He walked across to +some inn a few miles from here along the coast, put up there for the +night, and in the middle of the night stabbed some old chap who was +staying there." + +There was a lengthy pause while the hotel guests digested this startling +information, and endeavoured to register anew their previous faint +impressions of the young man of the alcove table in the new light of his +personality as an alleged murderer. The pause was followed by an excited +hum of conversation and eager questions, the ladies all talking at once. + +"What a providential escape we have all had!" exclaimed the clergyman's +wife, her fresh comely face turning pale. + +"That's just what I said myself, madam, when I heard the news," replied +the young officer. + +"I presume this murderous young ruffian has been secured?" asked the +clergyman, who had turned even paler than his wife. "The police, I hope, +have him under arrest." + +The young officer shook his head. + +"He's shown them a clean pair of heels. He may be heading back this way, +for all I know. There will be a hue and cry over the whole of Norfolk +for him by to-night, but murderers are usually very crafty, and +difficult to catch. I bet they won't catch him before he murders +somebody else." + +The men looked at one another gravely, and some of the ladies gave vent +to cries of alarm, and clung to their husband's arms. The clergyman +turned angrily on the man who had brought the news. + +"What do you mean, sir, by blurting out a piece of news like this before +a number of ladies?" he said sternly. "It was imprudent and foolish in +the last degree. You have alarmed them exceedingly." + +"Oh, that's all tosh!" replied the other rudely. "They were bound to +hear of it sooner or later; why, everybody on the front is talking about +it. I thought you'd be awfully bucked to hear the news, seeing that you +were sitting at the next table to him yesterday morning." + +"Who gave you this information?" asked Colwyn, who had just come down +stairs wearing a motor coat and cap, and paused on his way to the door +on hearing the loud voices of the excited group round the young officer. + +"One of the fishermen on the front. The police constable at the place +where the murder was committed--a little village with some outlandish +name--came over here to report the news. This is the nearest police +station to the spot, it seems." + +"But is he quite certain that the man who is supposed to have committed +the murder is the young man who fainted yesterday morning?" asked Sir +Henry Durwood, who had joined the group. "Has he been positively +identified?" + +"The fisherman tells me that there's no doubt it's him--the +description's identical. He cleared out before the murder was +discovered. There's a rare hue and cry all along the coast. They are +organizing search parties. There's one going out from here this +afternoon. I'm going with it." + +Colwyn left the group of hotel guests, and went to the front door. Sir +Henry Durwood, after a moment's hesitation, followed him. The detective +was standing in the hotel porch, thoughtfully smoking a cigar, and +looking out over the raging sea. He nodded cordially to the specialist. + +"What do you think of this story?" asked Sir Henry. + +"I was just about to walk down to the police station to make some +inquiries," responded Colwyn. "It is impossible to tell from that man's +story how much is truth and how much mere gossip." + +"I'm afraid it's true enough," replied Sir Henry Durwood. "You'll +remember I warned him yesterday to send for his friends. A man in his +condition of health should not have been permitted to wander about the +country unattended. He has probably had another attack of _furor +epilepticus_, and killed somebody while under its influence. Dear, dear, +what a dreadful thing! It may be said that I should have taken a firmer +hand with him yesterday, but what more could I have done? It's a very +awkward situation--very. I hope you'll remember, Mr. Colwyn, that I did +all that was humanly possibly for a professional man to do--in fact, I +went beyond the bounds of professional decorum, in tendering advice to a +perfect stranger. And you will also remember that what I told you about +his condition was in the strictest confidence. I should like very much +to accompany you to the police station, if you have no objection--I feel +strongly interested in the case." + +"I shall be glad if you will come," replied the detective. + +Colwyn turned down the short street to the front, where a footpath +protected by a hand rail had been made along the edge of the cliff for +the benefit of jaded London visitors who wanted to get the best value +for their money in the bracing Norfolk air. At the present moment that +air, shrieking across the North Sea with almost hurricane force, was too +bracing for weak nerves on the exposed path, and it was real hard work +to force a way, even with the help of the handrail, against the wind, to +say nothing of the spray which was flung up in clouds from the +thundering masses of yellow waves dashing at the foot of the cliffs +below. Sir Henry Durwood, at any rate, was very glad when his companion +turned away from the cliffs into one of the narrow tortuous streets +running off the front into High Street. + +Colwyn paused in front of a stone building, half way up the street, +which displayed the words, "County Police," on a board outside. Knots of +people were standing about in the road--fishermen in jerseys and +sea boots, some women, and a sprinkling of children--brought together by +the news of murder, but kept from encroaching on the sacred domain of +law and order by a massive red-faced country policeman, who stood at +the gate in an awkward pose of official dignity, staring straight in +front of him, ignoring the eager questions which were showered on him by +the crowd. The group of people nearest the gate fell back a little as +they approached, and the policeman on duty looked at them inquiringly. + +Colwyn asked him the name of the officer in charge of the district, and +received the reply that it was Superintendent Galloway. The policeman +looked somewhat doubtful when Colwyn asked him to take in his card with +the request for an interview. He compromised between his determination +to do the right thing and his desire not to offend two well-dressed +gentlemen by taking Colwyn into his confidence. + +"Well, you see, sir, it's like this," he said, sinking his voice so that +his remarks should not be heard by the surrounding rabble. "I don't like +to interrupt Superintendent Galloway unless it's very important. The +chief constable is with him." + +"Do you mean Mr. Cromering, from Norwich?" asked Colwyn. + +The policeman nodded. + +"He came over here by the morning train," he explained. + +"Very good. I know Mr. Cromering well. Will you please take this card to +the chief constable and say that I should be glad of the favour of a +short interview? This is a piece of luck," he added to Sir Henry, as the +constable took the card and disappeared into the building. "We shall now +be able to find out all we want to know." + +The police constable came hastening back, and with a very respectful air +informed them that Mr. Cromering would be only too happy to see Mr. +Colwyn. He led them forthwith into the building, down a passage, knocked +at a door, and without waiting for a response, ushered them into a +large room and quietly withdrew. + +There were two officials in the room. One, in uniform, a heavily built +stout man with sandy hair and a red freckled face, sat at a large +roll-top desk writing at the dictation of the other, who wore civilian +clothes. The second official was small and elderly, of dry and meagre +appearance, with a thin pale face, and sunken blue eyes beneath +gold-rimmed spectacles. This gentleman left off dictating as Colwyn and +Sir Henry Durwood entered, and advanced to greet the detective with a +look which might have been mistaken for gratitude in a less important +personage. + +Mr. Cromering's gratitude to Colwyn was not due to any assistance he had +received from the detective in the elucidation of baffling crime +mysteries. It arose from an entirely different cause. Wolfe is supposed +to have said that he would sooner have been remembered as the author of +Gray's "Elegy in a Country Churchyard" than as the conqueror of Quebec. +Mr. Cromering would sooner have been the editor of the _English Review_ +than the chief constable of Norfolk. His tastes were bookish; Nature had +intended him for the librarian of a circulating library: the safe pilot +of middle class ladies through the ocean of new fiction which overwhelms +the British Isles twice a year. His particular hobby was paleontology. +He was the author of _The Jurassic Deposits of Norfolk, with Some +Remarks on the Kimeridge Clay_--an exhaustive study of the geological +formation of the county and the remains of prehistoric reptiles, fishes, +mollusca and crustacea which had been discovered therein. This work, +which had taken six years to prepare, had almost been lost to the world +through the carelessness of the Postal Department, which had allowed +the manuscript to go astray while in transit from Norfolk to the London +publishers. + +The distracted author had stirred up the postal authorities at London +and Norwich, and had ultimately received a courteous communication from +the Postmaster General to the effect that all efforts to trace the +missing packet had failed. A friend of Mr. Cromering's suggested that he +should invoke the aid of the famous detective Colwyn, who had a name for +solving mysteries which baffled the police. Mr. Cromering took the +advice and wrote to Colwyn, offering to mention his name in a preface to +_The Jurassic Deposits_ if he succeeded in recovering the missing +manuscript. Colwyn, by dint of bringing to bear a little more +intelligence and energy than the postal officials had displayed, ran the +manuscript to earth in three days, and forwarded it to the owner with a +courteous note declining the honour of the offered preface as too great +a reward for such a small service. + +"Very happy to meet you, Mr. Colwyn," said the chief constable, as he +came forward with extended hand. "I've long wanted to thank you +personally for your kindness--your great kindness to me last year. +Although I feel I can never repay it, I'm glad to have the opportunity +of expressing it." + +"I'm afraid you are over-estimating a very small service," said Colwyn, +with a smile. + +"Very small?" The chief constable's emphasis of the words suggested that +his pride as an author had been hurt. "If you had not recovered the +manuscript, a work of considerable interest to students of British +paleontology would have been lost. I must show you a letter I have just +received from Sir Thomas Potter, of the British Museum, agreeing with my +conclusions about the fossil remains of Ichthyosaurus, Plesiosaurus, and +Mosasaurs, discovered last year at Roslyn Hole. It is very gratifying +to me; very gratifying. But what can I do for you, Mr. Colwyn?" + +"First let me introduce to you Sir Henry Durwood," said Colwyn. + +"Durwood? Did you say Durwood?" said the little man, eagerly advancing +upon the specialist with outstretched hand. "I'm delighted to meet one +of our topmost men of science. Your illuminating work on Elephas +Meridionalis is a classic." + +"I'm afraid you're confusing Sir Henry with a different Durwood," said +the detective, coming to the rescue. "Sir Henry Durwood is the +distinguished specialist of Harley Street, and not the paleontologist of +that name. We have called to make some inquiries about the murder which +was committed somewhere near here last night." + +"The ruling passion, Mr. Colwyn, the ruling passion! Personally I should +be only too glad of your assistance in the case in question, but I'm +afraid there's no deep mystery to unravel--it's not worth your while. It +would be like cracking a nut with a steam hammer for you to devote your +brains to this case. All the indications point strongly to one man." + +"A young man who was staying at the _Grand_ till yesterday?" inquired +the detective. + +The chief constable nodded. + +"We're looking for a young man who's been staying at the _Grand_ for +some weeks past under the name of Ronald. He's a stranger to the +district, and nobody seems to know anything about him. Perhaps you +gentlemen can tell me something about him." + +"Very little, I'm afraid," replied Colwyn. "I've seen him at meal +times, and nodded to him, but never spoken to him till yesterday, when +he had a fainting fit at breakfast. Sir Henry Durwood and I helped him +to his bedroom, and exchanged a few remarks with him on his recovery." + +"Yes, I've been told of that illness," said Mr. Cromering, meditating. +"Did he do or say anything while you were with him that would throw any +light on the subsequent tragic events of the night, for which he is now +under suspicion?" + +Colwyn related what had happened at breakfast and afterwards. Mr. +Cromering listened attentively, and turning to Sir Henry Durwood asked +him if he had seen Ronald before the previous day. + +"I saw him yesterday for the first time at the breakfast table," replied +Sir Henry Durwood. "I arrived only the previous night. He was taken ill +at breakfast. Mr. Colwyn and I assisted him to his room and left him +there. I know nothing whatever about him." + +"What was the nature of his illness?" inquired the chief constable. + +"It had some of the symptoms of a seizure," replied Sir Henry guardedly. +"I begged him, when he recovered, not to leave his room. I even offered +to communicate with his friends, by telephone, if he would give me their +address, but he refused." + +"It is a pity he did not take your advice," responded the chief +constable. "He appears to have left the hotel shortly after his illness, +and walked along the coast to a little hamlet called Flegne, about ten +miles from here. He reached there in the evening, and put up at the +village inn, the _Golden Anchor_, for the night. He left early in the +morning, before anybody was up. Shortly afterwards the body of Mr. Roger +Glenthorpe, an elderly archaeologist, who had been staying at the inn +for some time past making researches into the fossil remains common to +that part of Norfolk, was found in a pit near the house. The tracks of +boot-prints from near the inn to the mouth of the pit, and back again, +indicate that Mr. Glenthorpe was murdered in his bedroom at the inn, and +his body afterwards carried by the murderer to the pit in which it was +found." + +"In order to conceal the crime?" said Colwyn. + +"Precisely. Two men employed by Mr. Glenthorpe saw the footprints +earlier in the morning, and when it was discovered that Mr. Glenthorpe +was missing, one of them was lowered into the pit by a rope and found +the body at the bottom. The pit forms a portion of a number of so-called +hut circles, or prehistoric shelters of the early Briton, which are not +uncommon in this part of Norfolk." + +"And you have strong grounds for believing that this young man Ronald, +who was staying at the _Grand_ till yesterday, is the murderer?" + +"The very strongest. He slept in the room next to the murdered man's, +and disappeared hurriedly in the early morning from the inn some time +before the body was discovered. It is his boot-tracks which led to and +from the pit where the body was found. A considerable sum of money has +been stolen from the deceased, and we have ascertained that Ronald was +in desperate straits for money. Another point against Ronald is that Mr. +Glenthorpe was stabbed, and a knife which was used by Ronald at the +dinner table that night is missing. It is believed that the murder was +committed with this knife. But if you feel interested in the case, Mr. +Colwyn, you had better hear the report of Police Constable Queensmead." + +The chief constable touched a bell, and directed the policeman who +answered it to bring in Constable Queensmead. + +The policeman who appeared in answer to this summons was a thickset +sturdy Norfolk man, with an intelligent face and shrewd dark eyes. On +the chief constable informing him that he was to give the gentlemen the +details of the _Golden Anchor_ murder, he produced a notebook from his +tunic, and commenced the story with official precision. + +Ronald had arrived at the inn before dark on the previous evening, and +had asked for a bed for the night. A little later Mr. Glenthorpe, the +murdered man, who had been staying at the inn for some time past, had +come in for his dinner, and was so pleased to meet a gentleman in that +rough and lonely place that he had asked Ronald to dine with him. The +dinner was served in an upstairs sitting-room, and during the course of +the meal Mr. Glenthorpe talked freely of his scientific researches in +the district, and informed his guest that he had that day been to +Heathfield to draw L300 to purchase a piece of land containing some +valuable fossil remains which he intended to excavate. The two gentlemen +sat talking after dinner till between ten and eleven, and then retired +to rest in adjoining rooms, in a wing of the inn occupied by nobody +else. In the morning Ronald departed before anybody, except the servant, +was up, refusing to wait for his boots to be cleaned. The servant, who +had had the boots in her hands, had noticed that one of the boots had a +circular rubber heel on it, but not the other. Ronald gave her a pound +to pay for his bed, and the note was one of the first Treasury issue, +as were the notes which Mr. Glenthorpe had drawn from the bank at +Heathfield the day before. The men who had seen the footprints to the +pit earlier in the morning, informed Queensmead of their discovery on +learning that Mr. Glenthorpe had disappeared. Queensmead examined the +footprints, and, with the assistance of the men, recovered the body. +Queensmead telephoned a description of Ronald to the police stations +along the coast, then mounted his bicycle and caught the train at +Leyland in order to report the matter to the district headquarters at +Durrington. + +"I suppose there is no doubt that the young man who stayed at the inn is +identical with Ronald," said the detective, when the constable had +finished his story. "Do the descriptions tally in every respect?" + +"Read the particulars you have prepared for the hand-bills, +Queensmead," said the chief constable. + +The constable produced a paper from his pocket and read: "Description of +wanted man: About 28 years of age, five feet nine or ten inches high, +fair complexion rather sunburnt, blue eyes, straight nose, fair hair, +tooth-brush moustache, clean-cut features, well-shaped hands and feet, +white, even teeth. Was attired in grey Norfolk or sporting lounge +jacket, knickerbockers and stockings to match, with soft grey hat of +same material. Wore a gold signet-ring on little finger of left hand. +Distinguishing marks, a small star-shaped scar on left cheek, slightly +drags left foot in walking. Manner superior, evidently a gentleman." + +"That is conclusive enough," said Colwyn. "It tallies in every respect. +The scar is an unmistakable mark. I noticed it the first time I saw +Ronald." + +"I noticed it also," said Sir Henry Durwood. + +"It seems a clear case to me," said the chief constable. "I have signed +a warrant for Ronald's arrest, and Superintendent Galloway has notified +all the local stations along the coast to have the district searched. We +think it very possible that Ronald is in hiding somewhere in the +marshes. We have also notified the district railway stations to be on +the lookout for anybody answering his description, in case he tries to +escape by rail." + +"It seems a strange case," remarked the detective thoughtfully. "Why +should a young man of Ronald's type leave his hotel and go across to +this remote inn, and commit this brutal murder?" + +"He was very short of money. We have ascertained that he had been +requested to leave the hotel here because he could not pay his bill. He +has paid nothing since he has been here, and owed more than L30. The +proprietor told him yesterday morning, as he was going in to breakfast, +that he must leave the hotel at once if he could not pay his bill. He +went away shortly after the scene in the breakfast room which was +witnessed by you gentlemen, and left his luggage behind him. I suspect +the proprietor would not allow him to take his luggage until he had +discharged his bill." + +"It strikes me as a remarkable case, nevertheless," said Colwyn. "I +should like to look into it a little further, with your permission." + +"Certainly," replied the chief constable courteously. "Superintendent +Galloway will be in charge of the case. I suggested that he should ask +for a man to be sent down from Scotland Yard, but he does not think it +necessary. I feel sure that he will be delighted to have the assistance +of such a celebrated detective as yourself. When are you starting for +Flegne, Galloway?" + +"In half an hour," replied the superintendent. "I shall have to walk +from Leyland--five miles or more. The train does not go beyond there." + +"Then I will drive you over in my car," said the detective. + +"In that case perhaps you'll permit me to accompany you," said the chief +constable. "I should very much like to observe your methods." + +"And I too," said Sir Henry Durwood. + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +The road to Flegne skirted the settled and prosperous cliff uplands, +thence ran through the sea marshes which stretched along that part of +the Norfolk coast as far as the eye could reach until they were merged +and lost to view in the cold northern mists. + +The road, after leaving the uplands, descended in a sinuous curve +towards the sea, but the party in the motor car were stopped on their +way down by a young mounted officer, who, on learning of their +destination, told them they would have to make an inland detour for some +miles, as the military authorities had closed that part of the coast to +ordinary traffic. + +As they turned away from the coast, the chief constable informed Colwyn +that the prohibited area was full of troops guarding a little bay called +Leyland Hoop, where the water was so deep that hostile transports might +anchor close inshore, and where, according to ancient local tradition, + + + "He who would Old England win, + Must at the Leyland Hoop begin." + + +After traversing a mile or so of open country, and passing through one +or two scattered villages, they turned back to the coast again on the +other side of a high green headland which marked the end of the +prohibited area, and, crossing the bridge of a shallow muddy river, +found themselves in the area of the marshes. + +It was a region of swamps and stagnant dykes, of tussock land and wet +flats, with scarcely a stir of life in any part of it, and nothing to +take the eye except a stone cottage here and there. + +The marshes stretched from the road to the sea, nearly a mile away. Man +had almost given up the task of attempting to wrest a living from this +inhospitable region. The boat channels which threaded the ooze were +choked with weed and covered with green slime from long disuse, the +little stone quays were thick with moss, the rotting planks of a broken +fishing boat were foul with the encrustations of long years, the stone +cottages by the roadside seemed deserted. Here and there the marshes had +encroached upon the far side of the road, creeping half a mile or more +farther inland, destroying the wholesome earth like rust corroding +steel, and stretching slimy tentacles towards the farmlands on the rise. + +Humanity had retreated from the inroads of the sea only after a stubborn +fight. The ruins of an Augustinian priory, a crumbling fragment of a +Norman tower, the mouldering remnant of a castellated hall, showed how +prolonged had been the struggle with the elements of Nature before Man +had acknowledged his defeat and retreated, leaving hostages behind him. +And--significant indication of the bitterness of the fight--it was to be +noted that, while the builders of a bygone generation had built to face +the sea, the handful of their successors who still kept up the losing +fight had built their beach-stone cottages with sturdy stone backs to the +road, for the greater protection of the inmates from the fierce winter +gales which swept across the marshes from the North Sea. + +The car had travelled some miles through this desolate region when the +chief constable directed Colwyn's attention to a spire rising from the +flats a mile or so away, and said it was the church of Flegne-next-sea. +Colwyn increased his speed a little, and in a few minutes the car had +reached the outskirts of the little hamlet, which consisted of a +straggling row of beach-stone cottages, a few gaunt farm-houses on the +rise, and a cruciform church standing back from the village on a little +hill, with high turret or beacon lights which had warned the North Sea +mariners of a former generation of the dangers of that treacherous +coast. + +In times past Flegne-next-sea--pronounced "Fly" by the natives, "Fleen" +by etymologists, and "Flegney" by the rare intrusive Cockney--had +doubtless been a prosperous little port, but the encroaching sea had +long since killed its trade, scattered its inhabitants, and reduced it +to a spectre of human habitation compelled to keep the scene of its +former activities after life had departed. Half the stone cottages were +untenanted, with broken windows, flapping doors, and gardens overgrown +with rank marsh weeds. The road through the village had fallen into +disrepair, and oozed beneath the weight of the car, a few boards thrown +higgledy-piggledy across in places representing the local effort to +preserve the roadway from the invading marshes. The little canal quay--a +wooden one--was a tangle of rotting boards and loose piles, and the +stagnant green water of the shallow canal was abandoned to a few grey +geese, which honked angrily at the passing car. There was no sign of +life in the village street, and no sound except the autumn wind moaning +across the marshes and the boom of the distant sea against the +breakwater. + +"There's the inn--straight in front," said Police-Constable Queensmead, +pointing to it. + +The _Golden Anchor_ inn must have been built in the days of Sir +Cloudesley Shovel, for nothing remained of the maritime prosperity +which had originally bestowed the name upon the building. It was of +rough stone, coloured a dirty white, with two queer circular windows +high up in the wall on one side, the other side resting on a little, +round-shouldered hill. It was built facing away from the sea like the +beach-stone cottages, from which it was separated by a patch of common. +From the rear of the inn the marshes stretched in unbroken monotony to +the line of leaping white sea dashing sullenly against the breakwater +wall, and ran for miles north and south in a desolate uniformity, still +and grey as the sky above, devoid of life except for a few migrant birds +feeding in the salt creeks or winging their way seaward in strong, +silent flight. The rays of the afternoon sun, momentarily piercing the +thick clouds, fell on the white wall and round glazed windows of the +inn, giving it a sinister resemblance to a dead face. + +Colwyn brought his car to a standstill on the edge of the saturated +strip of common. + +"We shall have to walk across," he said. + +"Nobody will run off with the car," said Galloway, scrambling down from +his seat. + +"The murderer brought the body from the back of the house across this +green, and carried it up that rise in front of the inn," said +Queensmead. "You cannot see the pit from here, but it is close to that +little wood on the summit. The footprints do not show in the grass, but +they are very plain in the clay a little farther on, and lead straight +to the pit." + +"How deep is the pit?" asked Colwyn. + +"About thirty feet. It was not an easy matter to bring up the body." + +"We will examine the pit and the footprints later," said Mr. Cromering. +"Let us go inside first." + +Picking their way across the common to the front of the inn, they +encountered a little group of men conversing underneath the rusty old +anchor signboard which dangled from a stout stanchion above the front +door of the inn. Some men, wearing sea-boots and jerseys, others in +labouring garb, splashed with clay and mud, were standing about. They +ceased their conversation as the party from the motor-car appeared +around the corner, and, moving a respectful distance away, watched them +covertly. + +The front door of the inn was closed. Superintendent Galloway tapped at +it sharply, and after the lapse of a moment or two the door was opened, +and a man appeared on the threshold. Seeing the police uniforms he +stepped outside as if to make more room for the party to enter the +narrow passage from which he had emerged. Colwyn noticed that he was so +tall that he had to stoop in the old-fashioned doorway as he came out. + +Seen at close quarters, this man was a strange specimen of humanity. He +was well over six feet in height, and so cadaverous, thin and gaunt that +he might well have been mistaken for the presiding genius of the marshes +who had stricken that part of the Norfolk coast with aridity and +barrenness. But there was no lack of strength in his frame as he +advanced briskly towards his visitors. His face was not the least +remarkable part of him. It was ridiculously small and narrow for so big +a frame, with a great curved beak of a nose, and small bright eyes set +close together. Those eyes were at the present moment glancing with +bird-like swiftness from one to the other of his visitors. + +"You are the innkeeper--the landlord of this place?" asked Mr. +Cromering. + +"At your service, sir. Won't you go inside?" His voice was the best +part of him; soft and gentle, with a cultivated accent which suggested +that the speaker had known a different environment at some time or +other. + +"Show us into a private room," said Mr. Cromering. + +The innkeeper escorted the party along the passage, and took them into a +room with a low ceiling and sanded floor, smelling of tobacco, +explaining, as he placed chairs, that it was the bar parlour, but they +would be quiet and free from interruption in it, because he had closed +the inn that day in anticipation of the police visit. + +"Quite right--very proper," said the chief constable. + +"Will you and the other gentlemen take any refreshment, after your +journey?" suggested the innkeeper. "I'm afraid the resources of the inn +are small, but there is some excellent old brandy." + +He stretched out an arm towards the bell rope behind him. Colwyn noticed +that his hand was long and thin and yellow--a skeleton claw covered with +parchment. + +"Never mind the brandy just now," said Mr. Cromering, taking on himself +to refuse on behalf of his companions the proffered refreshment. "We +have much to do and it will be time enough for refreshments afterwards. +We will view the body first, and make inquiries after. Where is the +body, Benson?" + +"Upstairs, sir." + +"Take us to the room." + +The innkeeper led the way upstairs along a dark and narrow passage. When +he reached a door near the end, he opened it and stood aside for them to +enter. + +"This is the room," he said, in a low voice. It was Colwyn's keen eye +that noted the key in the door. "What is that key doing in the door, on +the outside?" he asked. "How long has it been there?" + +"The maid found it there this morning, sir, when she went up with Mr. +Glenthorpe's hot water. That made her suspect something must be wrong, +because Mr. Glenthorpe was in the habit of locking his door of a night +and placing the key under his pillow. So, after knocking and getting no +answer, she opened the door, and found the room empty." + +"The door was not locked, though the key was in the door?" + +"No, sir, and everything in the room was just as usual. Nothing had been +disturbed." + +"And was that bedroom window open when you found the room empty?" asked +Superintendent Galloway, pointing to it through the open doorway. + +"Yes, sir--just as you see it now. I gave orders that nothing was to be +touched." + +"Ronald slept in this room," said Queensmead, indicating the door of the +adjoining bedroom. + +"We will look at that later," said Galloway. + +The interior of the room they entered was surprisingly light and +cheerful and spacious, having nothing in common with those low gloomy +vaults, crammed with clumsy furniture and moth-eaten stuffed animals, +which generally pass muster as bedrooms in English country inns. Instead +of the small circular windows of the south side, there was a large +modern two-paned window in a line with the door, opening on to the other +side of the house. The bottom pane was up, and the window opened as wide +as possible. A very modern touch, unusual in a remote country inn, was a +rose coloured gas globe suspended from the ceiling, in the middle of the +room. The furniture belonged to a past period, but it was handsome and +well-kept--a Spanish mahogany wardrobe, chest of drawers and washstand +with chairs to match. Modern articles, such as a small writing-desk near +the window, some library books, a fountain pen, a reading-lamp by the +bedside, and an attache case, suggested the personal possessions and +modern tastes of the last occupant. A comfortable carpet covered the +floor, and some faded oil-paintings adorned the walls. + +The bed--a large wooden one, but not a fourposter--stood on the +left-hand side of the room from the entrance, with the head against the +wall nearest the outside passage, and the foot partly in line with the +open window, which was about eight feet away from it. The door when +pushed back swung just clear of a small bedroom table beside the bed, on +which the reading lamp stood, with a book beside it. The other side of +the bed was close to the wall which divided the room from the next +bedroom, so that there was a large clear space on the outside, between +the bed and the door. The gas fitting, which was suspended from the +ceiling in this open space, hung rather low, the bottom of the globe +being not more than six feet from the floor. The globe was cracked, and +the incandescent burner was broken. + +The murdered man had been laid in the middle of the bed, and covered +with a sheet. Superintendent Galloway quietly drew the sheet away, +revealing the massive white head and clear-cut death mask of a man of +sixty or sixty-five; a fine powerful face, benign in expression, with a +chin and mouth of marked character and individuality. But the distorted +contour of the half-open mouth, and the almost piteous expression of the +unclosed sightless eyes, seemed to beseech the assistance of those who +now bent over him, revealing only too clearly that death had come +suddenly and unexpectedly. + +"He was a great archaeologist--one of the greatest in England," said Mr. +Cromering gently, with something of a tremor in his voice, as he gazed +down at the dead man's face. "To think that such a man should have been +struck down by an assassin's blow. What a loss!" + +"Let us see how he was murdered," said the more practical Galloway, who +was standing beside his superior officer. He drew off the covering sheet +as he spoke, and dropped it lightly on the floor. + +The body thus revealed was that of a slightly built man of medium +height. It was clad in a flannel sleeping suit, spattered with mud and +clay, and oozing with water. The arms were inclining outwards from the +body, and the legs were doubled up. There were a few spots of blood on +the left breast, and immediately beneath, almost on the left side, just +visible in the stripe of the pyjama jacket, was the blow which had +caused death--a small orifice like a knife cut, just over the heart. + +"It is a very small wound to have killed so strong a man," said Mr. +Cromering. "There is hardly any blood." + +Sir Henry examined the wound closely. "The blow was struck with great +force, and penetrated the heart. The weapon used--a small, thin, steel +instrument--and internal bleeding, account for the small external flow." + +"What do you mean by a thin, steel instrument?" asked Superintendent +Galloway. "Would an ordinary table-knife answer that description?" + +"Certainly. In fact, the nature of the wound strongly suggests that it +was made by a round-headed, flat-bladed weapon, such as an ordinary +table or dinner knife. The thrust was made horizontally,--that is, +across the ribs and between them, instead of perpendicularly, which is +the usual method of stabbing. Apparently the murderer realised that his +knife was too broad for the purpose, and turned it the other way, so as +to make sure of penetrating the ribs and reaching the heart." + +"Does not that suggest a rather unusual knowledge of human anatomy on +the murderer's part?" asked Mr. Cromering. + +"I do not think so. Anybody can tell how far apart the human ribs are by +feeling them." + +"It is easy to see, Sir Henry, that the wound was made by a thin-bladed +knife, but why do you think it was also round-headed?" asked +Superintendent Galloway. "Might it not have been a sharp-pointed one?" + +"Or even a dagger?" suggested Mr. Cromering. + +"Certainly not a dagger. The ordinary dagger would have made a wider +perforation with a corresponding increase in the blood-flow. My theory of +a round-headed knife is based on the circumstance of a portion of the +deceased's pyjama jacket having been carried into the wound. A +sharp-pointed knife would have made a clean cut through the jacket." + +"I see," said Superintendent Galloway, with a sharp nod. + +"Therefore, we may assume, in the case before us,"--Sir Henry Durwood +waved a fat white hand in the direction of the corpse as though he were +delivering an anatomical lecture before a class of medical +students--"that the victim was killed with a flat, round knife with a +round edge, held sideways. Furthermore, the position of the wound +reveals that the blow was too much on the left side to pierce the centre +of the heart directly, but was a slanting blow, delivered with such +force that it has probably pierced the heart on the _right_ side, +causing instant death." + +"The weapon, then, entered the body in a lateral direction, that is, +from left to right?" asked Colwyn, who had been closely following the +specialist's remarks. + +"That is what I meant to convey," responded Sir Henry, in his most +professional manner. "The blade entered on the left side, and travelled +towards the centre of the body." + +"From the nature of the wound would you say that the knife entered +almost parallel with the ribs, though slanting slightly downwards, in +order to pierce the heart on the right side?" + +"That would be the general direction, though it is impossible to +ascertain, without a postmortem examination, the exact spot where the +heart was pierced." + +"But the wound slants in such a way as to prove that the blow was struck +from left to right?" persisted Colwyn. + +"Undoubtedly," responded Sir Henry. + + + +CHAPTER V + + +During the latter part of the conversation Superintendent Galloway +walked to the open window, and looked out. He turned round swiftly, with +a look of unusual animation on his heavy features, and exclaimed: + +"The murderer entered through the window." + +The others went over to the window. The inn on that side had been built +into a small hill of beehive shape, which had been partly levelled to +make way for the foundations. Seen from outside, the inn, with its back +to the sea and a corner of its front entering the hillside, bore a +remote resemblance to some nakedly ugly animal with its nose burrowed +into the earth. Part of the bar was actually underground, and the +windows of the rooms immediately above looked out on the hillside. The +window of Mr. Glenthorpe's room, which was above the bar parlour, was +not more than four or five feet away from the round-shouldered side of +the hill. From that point the hill fell away rapidly, and the +first-story windows at the back, where the house rose from the flat edge +of the marsh, were about fifteen feet from the ground. The space between +the inn wall and the beehive curve of the hill, which was very narrow +under Mr. Glenthorpe's window, but widened as the hill fell away, was +covered with a russet-coloured clay, which contrasted vividly with the +sombre grey and drab tints of the marshes. + +"It was an easy matter to get in this window," said Superintendent +Galloway. "And here's the proof that the murderer came in this way." He +stooped and picked up something from the floor, close to the window, +and held it out in the palm of his hand for the inspection of his +companions. It was a small piece of red clay, like the russet-coloured +clay outside the window. + +"Here is another clue," said Colwyn, pointing to a fragment of black +material adhering to a nail near the bottom of the window. + +"Ronald ripped something he was wearing while getting through the +window," said Galloway, detaching the fragment, which he and Colwyn +examined closely. + +"Have you noticed that?" said Colwyn, pointing to a pool of water which +had collected near the open window, between the edge of the carpet and +the skirting board. + +"Yes," replied Galloway. "It was raining heavily last night." + +With eyes sharpened by his discoveries, Galloway made a careful search +of the carpet, and found several more crumbs of red clay between the +window and the bed. Near the bed he detected some splashes of +candle-grease, which he detached from the carpet with his pocket-knife. +He also picked up the stump of a burnt wooden match, and the broken +unlighted rink head of another. After showing these things to his +companions he placed them carefully in an empty match-box, which he put +in his pocket. + +"Somebody has bumped against this gas globe pretty hard," said Colwyn. +"The glass is broken and the incandescent burner smashed." + +He bent down to examine the white fragments of the burner which were +scattered about the carpet, and as he did so he noticed another broken +wooden match, and two more splashes of candle-grease directly beneath +the gas-jet. He removed the candle-grease carefully, and showed it to +Galloway. + +"More candle-grease!" the latter said. "Well, that's not likely to prove +anything except that Ronald was careless with his light. I suppose the +wind caused the candle to gutter. I would willingly exchange the +candle-grease for some finger-prints. There's not a sign of +finger-prints anywhere. Ronald must have worn gloves. Now, let us have a +look at Ronald's room. I want to see if he could get out of his own +window on to the hillside. His window is higher from the ground than +this window. The hill falls away very sharply." + +The bedroom Ronald had occupied was small and narrow, and its meagre +furniture was in striking contrast with the comfortable appointments of +the room they had just left. It contained a single bed, a chest of +drawers, a washstand, and a wardrobe. The latter, a cumbrous article of +furniture, stood between the bed and the wall, against the side nearest +to Mr. Glenthorpe's room. + +Galloway strode across to the window, which was open, and looked out. +The hillside fell away so rapidly that the bottom of the window was +quite eight feet from the ground outside. + +"Not much of a drop for an athletic young fellow like Ronald," said +Galloway to Colwyn, who had joined him. + +"The window is very much smaller than the one in Mr. Glenthorpe's +bedroom," said Colwyn. + +"But large enough for a man to get through. Look here! I can get my head +and shoulders through, and where the head and shoulders go the rest of +the body will follow. Ronald got through it last night and into the next +room by the other window. There can be no doubt that that was how the +murder was committed." + +Galloway left the window, and examined the bedroom carefully. He turned +down the bed-clothes, and scrutinised the sheets and pillows. + +"I thought he might have left some blood-stains on the linen, after +carrying the body downstairs," he explained. "But he hasn't." + +"Sir Henry says the bleeding was largely internal," remarked Mr. +Cromering. "That would account for the absence of any tell-tale marks on +the bed-clothes." + +"He was too clever to wash his hands when he came back," grumbled +Galloway, turning to the washstand and examining the towels. "He's a +cool customer." + +"I notice that the candle in the candlestick is a wax one," said Colwyn. + +"And burnt more than half-way down," commented Galloway, glancing at it. + +"You attach no significance to the fact that the candle is a wax one?" +questioned the detective. + +"No, do you?" replied Galloway, with a puzzled glance. + +Colwyn did not reply to the question. He was looking attentively at the +large wardrobe by the side of the bed. + +"That's a strange place to put a wardrobe," he said. "It would be +difficult to get out of bed without barking one's shins against it." + +"It was probably put there to hide the falling wall-paper,--the place is +going to rack and ruin," said Galloway, pointing to the top of the +wardrobe, where the faded wall-paper, mildewed and wet with damp, was +hanging in festoons. "Now, Queensmead, lead the way outside. I've seen +all I want to see in this room." + +"Would you like to see the room where Ronald and Mr. Glenthorpe dined?" +suggested the constable. "It's on this floor, on the other side of Mr. +Glenthorpe's bedroom." + +"We can see that later. I want to examine outside before it gets dark." + +They left the room. The innkeeper was waiting patiently in the passage, +standing motionless at the head of the staircase, with his head +inclining forward, like a marsh heron fishing in a dyke. He hastened +towards them. + +"I noticed a reading-lamp by Mr. Glenthorpe's bedside, Mr. Benson," said +Colwyn. "Did he use that as well as the gas?" + +"He rarely used the gas, sir, though it was put into the room at his +request. He found the reading-lamp suited his sight better." + +"Did he use candles? I saw no candlestick in the room." + +"He never used candles, sir--only the reading-lamp." + +"When was the gas-globe smashed? Last night?" + +"It must have been, sir. Ann says it was quite all right yesterday." + +"I've got my own idea how that was done," said Galloway, who had been an +attentive listener to the innkeeper's replies to Colwyn's questions. +"Show the way downstairs to the back door, Mr. Benson." + +The innkeeper preceded them down the stairs and along the passage to +another one, which terminated in a latched door, which he opened. + +"How was this door fastened last night?" asked Galloway. + +"By this bolt at the top," said the innkeeper, pointing to it. "There is +no key--only this catch." + +"Is this the only back outlet from the inn?" asked Colwyn. + +"Yes, sir." + +At Galloway's suggestion they first went to the side of the inn, in +order to examine the ground beneath the windows. The fence enclosing the +yard had fallen into disrepair, and had many gaps in it. There were no +footprints visible in the red clay of the natural passage-way between +the inn wall and the hill, either beneath the window of Ronald's room or +Mr. Glenthorpe's window. + +"The absence of footprints means nothing," said Galloway. "Ronald may +have climbed from one room to the other in his stocking feet, and then +put on his boots to remove the body. Even if he wore his boots he might +have left no marks, if he walked lightly." + +"I am not so sure of that," said Colwyn. "But what do you make of this?" + +He pointed to an impression in the red earth underneath Mr. Glenthorpe's +window--a line so faint as to be barely noticeable, running outward from +the wall for about eighteen inches, with another line about the same +length running at right angles from it. Superintendent Galloway examined +these two lines closely and then shook his head as though to intimate he +could make nothing of them. + +"What do you think they are?" said Mr. Cromering, turning to Colwyn. + +"I think they may have been made by a box," was the reply. + +"You are not suggesting that the murderer threw a box out of the +window?" exclaimed Superintendent Galloway, staring at the detective. +"Look how straight the line from the wall is! A box would have fallen +crookedly." + +"I do not suggest anything of the kind. If it was a box, it is more +likely it was placed outside the window." + +"For what purpose?" + +"To help the murderer climb into the room." + +"He didn't need it," replied Galloway. "It's an easy matter to get +through this window from the ground. I can do it myself." He placed his +hands on the sill, sprang on to the window ledge, and dropped back +again. "I attach no importance to these lines. They are so faint that +they might have been made months ago. There is nothing to be seen here, +so we may as well go and look at the footprints. Show us where the marks +of the footsteps commence, Queensmead." + +The constable led the way to the other side of the house and across the +green. The grass terminated a little distance from the inn in a clay +bank bordering a wide tract of bare and sterile land, which extended +almost to the summit of the rise. Clearly defined in the clay and the +black soft earth were two sets of footprints, one going towards the +rise, and the other returning. The outgoing footsteps were deeply and +distinctly outlined from heel to toe. The right foot plainly showed the +circular mark of a rubber heel, which was missing in the other, though a +sharp indentation showed the mark of the spike to which the rubber had +been fastened. + +"The footprints lead straight to the mouth of the pit where the body was +thrown," said Queensmead. + +"What a clue!" exclaimed Superintendent Galloway, his eyes sparkling +with excitement. "You are quite certain the inn servant can swear that +these marks were made by Ronald's boots, Queensmead?" + +"There's no doubt on that point, sir," replied the constable. "She had +the boots in her hands this morning, just before Ronald put them on, and +she distinctly noticed that there was a rubber heel on the right boot, +but not on the other." + +"It seems a strange thing for a young man of Ronald's position to have +rubber heels affixed to his boots," remarked Mr. Cromering. "I was under +the impression that they were an economical device of the working +classes. But perhaps he found them useful to save his feet from +jarring." + +"We shall find them useful to hang him," responded Galloway curtly. "Let +us proceed to the pit, gentlemen. May I ask you to keep clear of the +footprints? I do not want them obliterated before I can take plaster +casts." + +They followed the footsteps up the rise. Near the summit they +disappeared in a growth of nettles, but reappeared on the other side, +skirting a number of bowl-shaped depressions clustered in groups along +the brow of the rise. These were the hut circles--the pit dwellings of +the early Britons, shallow excavations from six to eight feet deep, all +running into one another, and choked with a rank growth of weeds. +Between them and a little wood which covered the rest of the summit was +an open space, with a hole gaping nakedly in the bare earth. + +"That's the pit where the body was thrown," said Queensmead, walking to +the brink. + +The pit descended straight as a mining shaft until the sides disappeared +in the interior gloom. It was impossible to guess at its depth because +of the tangled creepers which lined its sides and obscured the view, but +Mr. Cromering, speaking from his extensive knowledge of Norfolk geology, +said it was fully thirty feet deep. He added that there was considerable +difference of opinion among antiquaries to account for its greater +depth. Some believed the pit was simply a larger specimen of the +adjoining hut circles, running into a natural underground passage which +had previously existed. But the more generally accepted theory was that +the hut circles marked the site of a prehistoric village, and the deeper +pit had been the quarry from which the Neolithic men had obtained the +flints of which they made their implements. These flints were imbedded +in the chalk a long way from the surface, and to obtain them the cave +men burrowed deeply into the clay, and then excavated horizontal +galleries into the chalk. Several of the red-deer antler picks which +they used for the purpose had been discovered when the pit was first +explored twenty-five years ago. + +"Mr. Glenthorpe was very much interested in the prehistoric and late +Stone Age remains which are to be found in abundance along the Norfolk +coast," he added. "He has enriched the national museums with a valuable +collection of prehistoric man's implements and utensils, which he +recovered in various parts of Norfolk. For some time past he had been +carrying out explorations in this district in order to add to the +collection. It is sad to think that he met his death while thus +employed, and that his murdered body was thrown in the very pit which +was, as it were, the centre of his explorations and the object of his +keenest scientific curiosity." + +"Did you ever see clearer footprints?" exclaimed the more +practical-minded Galloway. "Look how deep they are near the edge of the +pit, where the murderer braced himself to throw the body off his back +into the hole. See! there is a spot of blood on the edge." + +It was as he had said. The footprints were clear and distinct to the +brink of the pit, but fainter as they turned away, showing that the man +who had carried the body had stepped more lightly and easily after +relieving himself of his terrible burden. + +"I must take plaster casts of those prints before it rains," said +Galloway. "They are far too valuable a piece of evidence to be lost. +They form the final link in the case against Ronald." + +"You regard the case as conclusive, then?" said Colwyn. + +"Of course I do. It is now a simple matter to reconstruct the crime from +beginning to end. Ronald got through Mr. Glenthorpe's window last night +in the dark. As the catch has not been forced, he either found it +unlocked or opened it with a knife. After getting into the room he +walked towards the foot of the bed. He listened to make sure that Mr. +Glenthorpe was asleep, and then struck the match I picked up near the +foot of the bed, lit the candle he was carrying, put it on the table +beside the bed, and stabbed the sleeping man. Having secured the money, +he unlocked the door, carried the corpse out on his shoulder, closed the +door behind him but did not lock it, then took the body downstairs, let +himself out of the back door, carried it up here and cast it into the +pit. That's how the murder was committed." + +"I agree with you that the murderer entered through the window," said +Colwyn. "But why did he do so? It strikes me as important to clear that +up. If Ronald is the murderer, why did he take the trouble to enter the +room from the outside when he slept in the next room?" + +"Surely you have not forgotten that the door was locked from inside? +Benson says Mr. Glenthorpe was in the habit of locking his door and +sleeping with the key under the pillow. Ronald no doubt first tried to +enter the room by the door, but, finding it locked, climbed out of his +window, and got into the room through the other window. He dared not +break open the door for fear of disturbing the inmate or alarming the +house." + +"Then how do you account for the key being found in the outside of Mr. +Glenthorpe's door this morning?" + +"Quite easily. During the struggle or in the victim's death convulsions +the bed-clothes were disarranged, and Ronald saw the key beneath the +pillow. Or he may have searched for it, as he knew he would need it +before he could open the door and remove the body. It was easy for him +to climb through the window to commit the murder, but he couldn't remove +the body that way. After finding the key he unlocked the door, and put +the key in the outside, intending to lock the door and remove the key as +he left the room, so as to defer the discovery that Mr. Glenthorpe was +missing until as long after his own departure in the morning as +possible. He may have found it a difficult matter to stoop and lock the +door and withdraw the key while he was encumbered with the corpse, so +left it in the door till he returned from the pit. When he returned he +was so exhausted with carrying the body several hundred yards, mostly +uphill, that he forgot all about the key. That is my theory to account +for the key being in the outside of the door." + +"It's an ingenious one, at all events," commented Colwyn. "But would +such a careful deliberate murderer overlook the key when he returned?" + +"Nothing more likely," said the confident superintendent. "It's in +trifles like this that murderers give themselves away. The notorious +Deeming, who murdered several wives, and disposed of their bodies by +burying them under hearthstones and covering them with cement, would +probably never have been caught if he had not taken away with him a +canary which belonged to the last woman he murdered. It was a clue that +couldn't be missed--like the silk skein in Fair Rosamond's Bower." + +"Here's another point: why did not Ronald, having disposed of the body, +disappear at once, instead of waiting for the morning?" + +"Because if his room had been found empty in the morning, as well as +that of Mr. Glenthorpe's, the double disappearance would have aroused +instant suspicion and search. Ronald gauged the moment of his departure +very cleverly, in my opinion. On the one hand, he wanted to get away +before the discovery of Mr. Glenthorpe's empty bedroom; and, on the +other hand, he wished to stay at the inn long enough to suggest that he +had no reason for flight, but was merely compelled to make an early +departure. The trouble and risk he took to conceal the body outside +prove conclusively that he thought the pit a sufficiently safe +hiding-place to retard discovery of the crime for a considerable time, +and he probably thought that even when it was discovered that Mr. +Glenthorpe was missing his absence would not, at first, arouse +suspicions that he had met with foul play. + +"It was not as though Mr. Glenthorpe was living at home with relatives +who would have immediately raised a hue and cry. He was a lonely old man +living in an inn amongst strangers, who were not likely to be interested +in his goings and comings. That suggests another alternative theory to +account for the key in the door: Ronald may have left it in the door to +convey the impression that Mr. Glenthorpe had gone out for an early +walk. That belief would at least gain Ronald a few hours to make good +his escape from this part of the country and get away by train before +any suspicions were aroused. The fact that none of Mr. Glenthorpe's +clothes were missing was not likely to be discovered in an inn until +suspicion was aroused. Ronald laid his plans well, but how was he to +know that in his path to the pit he walked over soil as plastic and +impressionable as wax?" + +"But in spite of that you assume he knew exactly where this pit was +situated?" + +"Nothing more likely. It is well-known to archaeologists. Ronald may well +have heard of it while staying at Durrington, or he may have known of +it personally through some previous visit to this part of the world. And +there is also evidence that Mr. Glenthorpe told him of the hut circles +and the pit during dinner last night." + +"Just one more doubt, Superintendent. How do you account for the cracked +gas globe and the broken incandescent mantle?" + +"Ronald probably knocked his head against it as he approached the bed," +said Galloway promptly. + +"Hardly. Ronald's height, according to the description, is five feet ten +inches. That happens to be also my height, and I can pass under the gas +globe without touching it." + +"Then it was broken when Ronald was carrying the corpse downstairs," +replied Galloway, after a moment's reflection. "He carried the corpse on +his shoulders and part of the body would be above his head." + +"Superintendent Galloway has an answer for everything," said Colwyn with +a smile, to Mr. Cromering. "He is persuasive if not always convincing." + +"The case seems clear enough to me," said the chief constable +thoughtfully. "Come, gentlemen, let us return to the inn. We have a +number of things to do, and not much time to do them in." + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +The inn, seen in the grey evening of a grey day, had a stark and +sinister aspect, an atmosphere of mystery and secretiveness, an air of +solitary aloofness in the dreary marshes, standing half shrouded in the +night mists which were sluggishly crawling across the oozing flats from +the sea. It was not a place where people could be happy--this battered +abode of a past age on the edge of the North Sea, with the bitter waters +of the marshes lapping its foundations, and the cold winds for ever +wailing round its gaunt white walls. + +The portion buried in the hillside, with only the tops of the windows +peering above, suggested the hidden holes and burrowing byways of a dead +and gone generation of smugglers who had used the inn in the heyday of +Norfolk's sea prosperity. It may have been a thought of the +possibilities of the inn as a hiding place which prompted Mr. Cromering +to exclaim, after gazing at it attentively for some seconds: + +"We had better go through this place from the bottom." + +As they approached the inn a stout short man, who was looking out from +the low and narrow doorway, retreated into the interior, and immediately +afterwards the long figure of the innkeeper emerged as though he had +been awaiting the return of the party, and had posted somebody to watch +for them. + +The innkeeper showed no surprise on receiving Mr. Cromering's +instruction to show them over the inn. Walking before them he led them +along a side passage opposite the bar, opening doors as he went, and +drawing aside for them to enter and look at the rooms thus revealed. + +It was a strange rambling old place inside, full of nooks and crannies, +and unexpected odd corners and apertures, short galleries and stone +passages winding everywhere and leading nowhere; the downstairs rooms on +different levels, with stone steps into them, and queer slits of windows +pierced high up in the thick walls. On the ground floor a central +passage divided the inn into two portions. On the one side were several +rooms, some empty and destitute of furniture, others barely furnished +and empty, and a big gloomy kitchen in which a stout countrywoman, who +shook and bobbed at the sight of the visitors, was washing greens at a +dirty deal table. Off the kitchen were two small rooms, poorly furnished +as servants' bedrooms, and the windows of these looked out on the +marshes at the back of the house. On the other side of the centre +passage was the bar, which was subterranean at the far end, with the +cellar adjoining tunnelled into the hillside. In the recesses of the +cellar the short stout man they had seen at the doorway was, by the +light of a tallow candle, affixing a spigot to one of the barrels which +stood against the earthen wall. Behind the bar was a small bar parlour, +and behind that two more rooms, the house on that side finishing in a +low and narrow gallery running parallel with the outside wall. + +The staircase upstairs opened into a stone passage, running from the +front of the inn to the back. On the left-hand side of the passage, +going from the head of the stairs to the back of the house, were four +rooms. The first was a small, comfortably furnished sitting room, where +Mr. Glenthorpe and his guest had dined the previous night. The bed +chamber of the murdered man adjoined this room. Next came the room in +which Ronald had slept, and then an empty lumber room. There were four +bedrooms on the other side, all unfurnished, except one at the far end +of the passage, the lumber-room. The innkeeper explained that the +murdered man had been the sole occupant of that wing of the house until +the previous night, when Mr. Ronald had occupied the room next to him. +At this end of the passage another and narrower passage ran at right +angles from it along the back of the house, with several rooms opening +off it on one side only. The first of these rooms was empty; the next +room contained a small iron bedstead, a chair, and a table, and the +innkeeper said that it was his bedroom. At the next door he paused, and +turning to Mr. Cromering hesitatingly remarked: + +"This is my mother's room, sir. She is an invalid." + +"We will not disturb your mother, we will merely glance into the room," +said the kindly chief constable. + +"It is not that, sir. She is----" He broke off abruptly, and knocked at +the door. + +After a few moments' pause there was the sound of somebody within +turning a key in the lock, then the door was opened by a young girl, +who, at the sight of the visitors, walked hurriedly across to a bedstead +at the far end of the room, on which something grey was moving, and +stood in front of it as though she would guard the occupant of the bed +from the intruding eyes of strangers. + +"It's all right, Peggy," said the innkeeper. "We shall not be here long. +My daughter is afraid you will disturb her grandmother," he said turning +to the gentlemen. "My mother is----" A motion of his finger towards his +forehead completed the sentence more significantly than words. + +The figure on the bed in the corner was in the shadow, but they could +make it out to be that of an old and shrivelled woman in a grey flannel +nightdress, who was sitting up in bed, swinging backward and forward, +holding some object in her arms, clasped tightly to her breast, while +her small dark eyes, deepset under furrowed brows, gazed at the visitors +with the unmeaning stare of an animal. + +But Colwyn's eyes were drawn to the girl at the bedside. She was +beautiful, of a type sufficiently rare to attract attention anywhere. +Her delicate profile and dainty grace shone in the shadow of the sordid +room like an exquisite picture. He was aware of a skin of transparent +whiteness, a wistful sensitive mouth, a pair of wonderful eyes with the +green-grey colour of the sea in their depths, and a crown of red-gold +hair. She was poorly, almost shabbily, dressed, but the crude cheap +garbing of a country dressmaker was unable to mar the graceful outlines +of her slim young figure. But it was the impassivity of the face and +detachment of attitude which chained Colwyn's attention and stimulated +his intellectual curiosity. The human face is usually an index to the +owner's character, but this girl's face was a mask which revealed +nothing. The features might have been marble for anything they +displayed, as she stood by the bedside regarding with grave inscrutable +eyes the group of men in the doorway. There was something pathetic in +the contrast between her grace and beauty and stillness and the uncouth +gestures and meaningless stare of the old woman in the bed behind her. + +The old woman, moving from side to side with the unhappy restlessness +which characterises the insane, dropped over the side of the bed the +object she had been nursing in her arms, and looked at the girl with the +dumb entreaty of an animal. The girl stooped down by the side of the +bed, picked up the fallen article, and restored it to the mad woman. It +was a doll. + +Mr. Cromering, who saw the action and the article, flushed like a man +who had seen something which should be kept secret, and turned to leave +the room. The others followed, and immediately afterwards they heard the +door closed after them, and the key turned in the lock. + +Superintendent Galloway, who had more of the inquiring turn of mind of +the police official than the chief constable, asked the innkeeper +several questions about his mother and her condition. The innkeeper said +her insanity was the outcome of an accident which had happened two years +before. She was sitting dozing by the kitchen fire when a large boiler +of water overturned, scalding her terribly, and the shock and pain had +sent her mad. She had never left the bedroom since, and had gradually +become reduced to a condition of imbecility, alternated by occasional +outbursts of violence. + +"Is she ever allowed out of the room?" asked Superintendent Galloway +quickly, as though a sudden thought had struck him. + +"Never, sir; she never tries to get out of bed except when she's +violent. She will sit there for hours, playing with a doll, but when she +has her paroxysms she runs round and round the room, crying out as you +heard her just now, and throwing the things about. Did you notice, sir, +that there was no glassware in the room? She has tried to injure herself +with glass and crockery in her violent fits." + +"How often does she have paroxysms of violent madness?" asked the chief +constable. + +"Not often, sir; usually about the turn of the moon, or when there is a +gale at sea." + +"There was a gale at sea last night," said Colwyn. "Did your mother have +an attack then?" + +"Peggy said when she came downstairs last night she thought there were +signs of an attack coming on, but when I looked in on Mother as I was +going to bed, shortly before eleven, she seemed quiet enough, so I +locked her door and went to bed." + +"Do you mean to say that you leave this poor mad woman in her bedroom +all night alone?" asked the chief constable. + +"It's the best thing to be done, sir," replied the innkeeper, with an +apologetic air. "We tried having somebody to sleep with her, but it only +made her worse, and the doctor who saw her last year said it wasn't +necessary. Peggy is with her a lot in the daytime, and often until she +goes to bed. So she's really not left alone very much, because Ann goes +into her room as soon as she gets up in the morning--about six o'clock." + +"And is your mother always secured in her room--is the door always +locked?" asked Superintendent Galloway. + +"Yes, sir: the door is always locked inside or outside, and when I go to +bed at night I take the key into my room and hang it on a nail. Ann +comes in and gets it in the morning." + +"You did that last night, as usual?" + +"Yes, sir. Mother was quiet--just as you saw her now. She is quiet most +of the time." + +"God help her, poor soul!" exclaimed the chief constable. "Where does +this passage lead to, Benson?" he asked, as if to change the +conversation, pointing to a gloomy gallery running off the passage in +which they were standing. + +"It leads to two rooms looking out over the end of the inn, sir," +replied the innkeeper. "They are the only two rooms you haven't seen." + +"Who occupies this room?" asked Superintendent Galloway, opening the +door of the first, and disclosing a small, plainly furnished bedroom. + +"My daughter, sir." + +"The next one is empty and unfurnished, like many of the others," +observed the chief constable. "This place seems too big for you, Benson. +Were all these rooms destitute of furniture when you took over the inn?" + +"Not all, sir, but the inn being too big for me I sold the furniture for +what it would fetch. It was no use to me." + +"Why don't you take a smaller place?" asked Superintendent Galloway, +abruptly. "You'll never do any good on this part of the coast--it's +played out, and there's no population." + +"I'm well aware of that, sir, but it's difficult for a man like me to +make a shift once he gets into a place. There's Mother for one thing." + +"She ought to be placed in a lunatic asylum," said the superintendent, +looking sternly at the innkeeper. + +"It's a hard thing, sir, to put your own mother away. Besides, begging +your pardon, she's hardly bad enough for a lunatic asylum." + +"Let us go downstairs, Galloway, if we have seen the whole of the inn," +said the chief constable, breaking into this colloquy. "Time is really +getting on." + +They went downstairs again to the small room they had been shown into +when they first entered the inn, Mr. Cromering after despatching the +innkeeper for refreshments for the party glanced once more at his watch, +and remarked to Colwyn that he was afraid he would have to ask him to +drive him in his car back to Durrington without delay. + +"Galloway will stay here for the inquest to-morrow," he added. "But I +must get back to Norwich to-night." + +"It is not necessary to go back to Durrington, to get to Norwich," said +Colwyn; "there's a train passes through Heathfield on the branch line, +at 5.40." He consulted his own watch as he spoke. "It's now just four +o'clock. Heathfield cannot be more than six miles away across country. I +can run you over there in twenty minutes. That would give you an hour or +so more here. I am speaking for myself as well as you," he added, with a +smile. "I should like to know a little more about this case." + +"But I shall be taking you out of your way, and delaying the return of +you and Sir Henry to Durrington." + +"I should like to return here and stay until after the inquest. Perhaps +Sir Henry would not mind returning to Durrington from Heathfield. He +will be able to catch the Durrington train at Cottenden, and get back to +his hotel in time for dinner. Would you mind, Sir Henry?" + +"Not in the least," replied Sir Henry politely. + +"Then I think I might stay a little longer," said the chief constable. +"What's the road like to Heathfield, Galloway? You know something about +this part of the country." + +"Very bad," replied the superintendent uncompromisingly, who had his own +reasons for wanting to get rid of his superior officer and the +detective. + +"It will be all right in daylight, and I'll risk it coming back," said +the detective cheerfully. + +He spoke with the resolute air of one used to making prompt decisions, +and Mr. Cromering yielded with the feeble smile of a man who was rather +glad to be released of the task of making up his own mind. The entrance +of the innkeeper with refreshments put an end to the discussion. He +thrust upon the police officials present the responsibility of breaking +the licensed hours in which liquor might be drunk in war time by serving +them with sherry, old brandy, and biscuits. + +The chief constable made himself a party to this breach of the law by +helping himself to a glass of sherry. The wine was excellent and dry, +and he poured himself out another. The result of this stimulant was +directly apparent in the firm tones with which he announced his +intention of examining those inmates of the inn who could throw any +light on the murder of the previous night. He directed Superintendent +Galloway to sit beside him and take notes of the information thus +elicited for the use of the coroner the following day. + +"I think it would be as well to begin with the story of the innkeeper," +he added. "Please pull that bell-rope, Galloway." + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +The innkeeper answered the bell in person, and was ordered by the chief +constable to take a seat and tell everything he knew about the previous +night's events, without equivocation or reserve. He took a chair at the +table, his bright bird's glance wandering from one to the other of the +faces opposite him as he smoothed with one claw-like hand the thatch of +iron-grey hair which hung down over his forehead almost to his eyes. + +"Where shall I begin?" he asked. + +"You had better start by telling us how this young man Ronald came to +your house yesterday afternoon, and then give us an account of the +subsequent events, so far as you know them," said the chief constable. + +"I was down near the breakwater yesterday evening, setting some +eel-lines in the canal, when he arrived," commenced the innkeeper. "When +I came in, Charles--that's the waiter--told me there was a young +gentleman in the bar parlour waiting to see me. I went into the parlour, +and saw the young man sitting near the door. He looked very tired and +weary, and said he wished to stay at the inn for the night." + +"How was he dressed?" asked Superintendent Galloway, looking up from his +note-book. + +"In a grey Norfolk suit, with knickerbockers, and a soft felt hat." + +"Had you ever seen him before?" + +"No, sir. He was a complete stranger to me. I could see he was a +gentleman. I told him I could not take him in, as the inn was only a +poor rough place, with no accommodation for gentlefolk at the best of +times, let alone war-time. The young gentleman said he was very tired +and would sleep anywhere, and was not particular about food. He told me +he had lost his way on the marshes, and a fisherman had directed him to +the inn." + +"Did he say where he had come from?" asked the chief constable. + +"No, sir, and I didn't think to ask him. I might have done so, but Mr. +Glenthorpe walked into the parlour just then, carrying some partridges +in his hand. He didn't see the young gentleman at first--he was sitting +in the corner behind the door--but told me to have one of the partridges +cooked for his dinner. They had just been given to him, he said, by the +farmer whose land he was going to excavate next week. As he turned to go +out he saw the young gentleman sitting in the corner, and he said, in +his hearty way: 'Good evening, sir; it is not often that we have any +society in these parts.' The young gentleman told him what he had told +me--how he had wandered away from Durrington and got lost, and had come +to the inn in the hopes of getting a bed for the night. 'Glad to see a +civilised human being in these parts,' said Mr. Glenthorpe. 'I hope +you'll give me the pleasure of your company at dinner. Benson, tell Ann +to cook another partridge.' 'I don't know whether the innkeeper will +allow me that pleasure,' replied the young gentleman. 'He says he cannot +put me up for the night.' 'Of course he'll put you up,' said Mr. +Glenthorpe. 'Not even a Norfolk innkeeper would turn you out on to the +North Sea marshes at this time of year.' That settled the question, +because I couldn't afford to offend Mr. Glenthorpe, and besides, his +providing the dinner helped me out of a difficulty. So I went out to +give orders about the dinner, leaving Mr. Glenthorpe and him sitting +together talking." + +"Did you get him to fill in a registration form?" asked Superintendent +Galloway. + +"I forgot to ask him, sir," replied the innkeeper. + +"That is gross and inexcusable carelessness on your part, Benson," said +Galloway sternly. "I shall have to report it." + +"I do not understand much about these things, sir," replied the +innkeeper apologetically. "It is so rarely that we have a visitor to the +place." + +"The authorities will hold you responsible. You are supposed to know the +law, and help to carry it out. What's the use of devising regulations +for the security of the country if they are not carried out? You +innkeepers and hotel-keepers are really very careless. Go on with your +story, Benson." + +"He and Mr. Glenthorpe had dinner together in the little upstairs +sitting room which Mr. Glenthorpe kept for his own private use. He did +his writing in it, and the flints and fossils he discovered in his +excavations were stored in the cupboards. His meals were always taken up +there, and last night he ordered the dinner to be taken up there as +usual, and the table to be laid for two. Charles waited at table, but I +was up there twice--first time with some sherry, and the second time was +about an hour afterwards, when the gentlemen had finished dinner. I took +up a bottle of some old brandy that the inn used to be famous for--it's +the same that you gentlemen have been drinking. When I knocked at the +door with the brandy it was Mr. Glenthorpe who called 'Come in!' He was +standing in front of the fire, with a fossil in his hand, and he was +telling the young man about how he came to discover it. I put the +brandy on the table and left the room. + +"That was the last time I saw him alive. Charles came down with the +dinner things about half-past nine, and said he was not wanted upstairs +any more. Charles went to bed shortly afterwards--he sleeps in one of +the two rooms off the kitchen. I went to my own bedroom before ten, +after first telling Ann, the servant, who was doing some ironing in the +kitchen, to turn off the gas at the meter if the gentlemen retired +before she finished, but not to bother if they were still sitting up. It +had been decided that the young gentleman should occupy the bedroom next +to Mr. Glenthorpe, and Ann was a bit late with her ordinary work because +it had taken her some time to get his room ready. The room had not been +occupied for some time, and she'd had to air the bed-clothes and make +the bed afresh. + +"The next morning I was a bit late getting down--there's nothing to open +the inn for in the mornings--and Ann told me as soon as I got down that +the young gentleman had left nearly an hour before. She had taken him up +an early cup of tea at seven o'clock, and he opened the door to her +knock, and took it from her. He was fully dressed, except for his boots, +which he had in his hand, and he asked her to clean them, as he wanted +to leave at once. She was walking away with the boots, when he called +her back and took them from her, saying that it didn't matter about +cleaning them, as he was in a hurry. When she gave him the boots he put +a note into her hand, and said that was to pay for his bill. + +"It was the key in the outside of Mr. Glenthorpe's room which led to us +finding out that he was not in the room. As I told you upstairs, sir, he +used to always lock his door when he went to bed and put the key under +the pillow. Ann noticed the key in the outside of the door when she +went up with his breakfast tray--he never took early morning tea but he +always breakfasted in his room. That would be about eight o'clock. She +thought it strange to see the key in the door, and as she could get no +answer to her knock she tried the door, found it unlocked and the room +empty. She came downstairs and told me. I thought at first that Mr. +Glenthorpe might have got up early to go and look at his excavations, +but I went up to his room and saw the signs of a struggle and +blood-stains on the bed-clothes, and I knew that something must have +happened to him. I went into the village and told Constable Queensmead. +He came to the inn, and made a search inside and outside and found the +footprints leading to the pit on the rise. One of Mr. Glenthorpe's men +who had been down the pit for flints was lowered by a rope, and brought +up the body." + +The innkeeper took a leather wallet from his pocket and produced from it +a Treasury L1 note. "This is the note the young gentleman left behind +with Ann to pay his bill," he explained, pushing it across the table to +the chief constable. + +"I would draw your attention, sir, to the fact that this Treasury note +is one of the first issue--printed in black on white paper," remarked +Superintendent Galloway to his superior officer. "Constable Queensmead +has ascertained that the L300 which Mr. Glenthorpe drew out of the bank +yesterday was all in L1 notes of the first issue. That money is missing +from the dead man's effects." + +The chief constable looked thoughtfully at the note through his glasses, +and then passed it to Colwyn, who examined it closely, and took a note +of the number, and held it up to the light to see the watermark. + +"Did you or the servant find any weapon in Mr. Glenthorpe's room?" asked +the chief constable. + +"No, sir." + +"You have missed a knife though, have you not?" asked Superintendent +Galloway. + +"Yes, sir." + +"What sort of a knife?" + +"A table-knife." + +"Was it one of the knives sent up to the sitting-room last night?" + +"Yes, sir. At least Charles says so. He has charge of the cutlery." + +"Then Charles had better tell us about it," interposed the chief +constable. "You say you went to bed before ten o'clock, Benson. Did you +hear anything in the night?" + +"No, sir, I fell asleep almost immediately. My room is a good distance +from Mr. Glenthorpe's room." + +"I do not think we have any more questions to ask you, Benson." + +"Pardon the curiosity of a medical man, Mr. Cromering," remarked Sir +Henry, "but would it be possible to ask the innkeeper whether he noticed +anything peculiar about Mr. Ronald's demeanour, when he arrived at the +inn, or when he saw him at dinner subsequently?" + +"You hear that question, Benson?" said the chief constable. "Did you +notice anything strange about Mr. Ronald's conduct when first he came to +the inn or at any time?" + +"I cannot say I did, sir. I thought he looked very tired when he first +came into the inn, and his eyes were heavy as though with want of +sleep." + +"He seemed quite sane and rational?" + +"Quite, sir." + +"Did you notice any symptoms of mental disturbance or irritability about +him at any time?" struck in Sir Henry Durwood. + +"No, sir. He was a little bit angry at first when I said I couldn't take +him in, but he struck me as quite cool and collected." + +Sir Henry looked a little disappointed at this reply. He asked no more +questions, but entered a note in a small note-book which he took from +his waistcoat pocket. Mr. Cromering intimated to the innkeeper that he +had finished questioning him, and would like to examine the waiter, +Charles. + +"If you wouldn't mind pulling the bell-rope behind you, sir," hinted the +innkeeper. + +In response to a pull at the old-fashioned bell-rope, the stout country +servant, who had been washing greens in the kitchen, entered the room. + +"Where is Charles, Ann?" asked the innkeeper. + +"He's in the kitchen," replied the woman nervously. + +"Then tell him he is wanted here immediately." + +"You run your inn in a queer sort of way, Benson," remarked +Superintendent Galloway, in his loud voice, as the woman went away on +her errand. "Why couldn't Charles have answered the bell himself, if he +is in the kitchen? What does he wait on, if not the bar parlour?" + +"Charles is stone deaf, sir," replied the innkeeper. + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +The man who entered the room was of sufficiently remarkable appearance +to have attracted attention anywhere. He was short, but so fat that he +looked less than his actual height, which was barely five feet. His +ponderous head, which was covered with short stiff black hair, like a +brush, seemed to merge into his body without any neck, and two black +eyes glittered like diamond points in the white expanse of his hairless +face. As he advanced towards the table these eyes roved quickly from one +to the other of the faces on the other side of the table. He was in +every way a remarkable contrast to his employer, and a painter in search +of a subject might have been tempted to take the pair as models for a +picture of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza. + +"Take that chair and answer my questions," said Mr. Cromering, +addressing the waiter in a very loud voice. "Oh, I forgot," he added, to +the innkeeper. "How do you manage to communicate with him if he is stone +deaf?" + +"Quite easily, sir. Charles understands the lip language--he reads your +lips while you speak. It is not even necessary to raise your voice, so +long as you pronounce each word distinctly." + +"Sit down, Charles--do you understand me?" said the chief constable +doubtfully. By way of helping the waiter to comprehend he pointed to the +chair the innkeeper had vacated. + +The waiter crossed the room and took the chair. Like so many fat men, +his movements were quick, agile, and noiseless, but as he came forward +it was noticeable that his right arm was deformed, and much shorter than +the other. + +The chief constable eyed the strange figure before him in some +perplexity, and the fat white-faced deaf man confronted him stolidly, +with his black twinkling eyes fixed on his face. His gaze, which was +directed to the mouth and did not reach the eyes, was so disconcerting +to Mr. Cromering that he cleared his throat with several nervous "hems" +before commencing his examination: + +"Your name is----?" + +"Charles Lynn, sir." + +The reply was delivered in a whispered voice, the not infrequent result +of prolonged deafness, complete isolation from the rest of humanity +causing the gradual loss of sound values in the afflicted person; but +the whisper, coming from such a mountain of flesh, conveyed the +impression that the speaker's voice was half-strangled in layers of fat, +and with difficulty gasped a way to the air. Mr. Cromering looked hard +at the waiter as though suspecting him of some trick, but Charles' eyes +were fixed on the mouth of his interrogator, awaiting his next question. + +"I understand that you waited on the two gentlemen in the upstairs +sitting-room last night"--Mr. Cromering still spoke in such an +unnecessarily loud voice that he grew red in the face with the +exertion--"the gentleman who was murdered, and the young man Ronald, who +came to the inn last night. Do you understand me?" + +"Yes, sir. I waited on the gentlemen, sir." + +"Very well. I want you to tell us all that took place between these +gentlemen while you were in the room. You were there all through the +dinner, I suppose?" + +"Yes, sir, but I didn't follow all of the conversation because of my +infirmity." He touched his ears as he spoke. "I gathered some remarks of +Mr. Glenthorpe's, because he told me to stand opposite him and watch his +lips for orders, but I didn't get much of what the young gentleman said, +because I was standing behind his chair most of the time so as to see +Mr. Glenthorpe's lips better." + +"Well, tell us all you did gather of the conversation, and everything +you saw." + +"I beg your pardon, sir"--the interruption came from Superintendent +Galloway--"but would it not be advisable to get from the waiter first +something of what passed between him and Ronald when Ronald came to the +inn last night? The waiter was the first to see him, Benson says." + +"Quite right. I had forgotten. Tell us, Charles, what passed when Ronald +first came to the inn in the afternoon." + +"It was between five and six o'clock, sir, when the young gentleman came +to the front door and asked for the landlord. I told him he was out, but +would be back shortly. The young gentleman said he was very tired, as he +had walked a long distance and lost his way in the marshes, and would I +show him into a private room and send him some refreshments. I took him +into the bar parlour--this room, sir--and brought him refreshments. He +seemed very tired--hardly able to lift one leg after the other." + +"Did he look ill--or strange?" + +"I didn't notice anything strange about him, sir, but he dropped into a +chair as though he was exhausted, and told me to send the landlord to +him as soon as he came in. I left him sitting there, and when Mr. Benson +returned I told him, and he went in to him. I didn't see the young +gentleman again until I waited on him and Mr. Glenthorpe at dinner in +the upstairs sitting-room." + +"Very good. Tell us what happened there." + +"I laid the table, and took up the dinner at half-past seven. Those were +Mr. Glenthorpe's orders. When I went up the first time the table was +covered with flints and fossils, which Mr. Glenthorpe was showing the +young gentleman, and I helped Mr. Glenthorpe put these back into the +cupboards, and then I laid the table. When I took up the dinner the +gentlemen sat down to it, and Mr. Glenthorpe rang for Mr. Benson, and +told him to bring up some sherry. When the sherry came up Mr. Glenthorpe +told the young gentleman that it was a special wine sent down by his +London wine merchants, and he asked Mr. Ronald what he thought of it. +Mr. Ronald said he thought it was an excellent dry wine. The gentlemen +didn't talk much during dinner, though Mr. Glenthorpe was a little upset +about the partridges. He said they had been cooked too dry. He asked the +young gentleman what he thought of them, but I don't know what he +replied, for I was not watching his lips. + +"Mr. Glenthorpe quite recovered himself by the time coffee was served, +and was talking a lot about his researches in the neighbourhood. It was +very learned talk, but it seemed to interest Mr. Ronald, for he asked a +number of questions. Mr. Glenthorpe seemed very pleased with his +interest, and told him about a valuable discovery made in a field near +what he called the hut circles. He said he had bought the field off the +farmer for L300, and was going to commence his excavations immediately. +As the farmer refused to take a cheque for the land he had been over to +the bank at Heathfield for the money, and had brought it back with him +so as to pay it over in the morning and take possession of the field. +Mr. Glenthorpe complained that the bank had made him take all the money +in Treasury notes, and he took them out of his pocket and showed them to +the young gentleman, saying how bulky they were, and pointing out that +they were all of the first issue." + +"And what did Ronald say to that?" + +If the chief constable's question covered a trap, the waiter seemed +unconscious of it. + +"I wasn't looking at him, sir, and did not hear his reply. After putting +the money back in his pocket, Mr. Glenthorpe told me to go downstairs +and tell Mr. Benson to bring up some of the old brandy. Mr. Benson came +back with me, and Mr. Glenthorpe took the bottle from him and filled the +glasses himself, telling the young gentleman that the brandy was the +best in England, a relic of the old smuggling days, but far too good for +scoundrels who had never paid the King's revenue one half-penny. Then +when Mr. Benson had left the room he began to talk about the field +again, and how anxious he was to start the excavations. That was about +all I heard, sir, for shortly afterwards Mr. Glenthorpe told me to clear +away the things, which took me several trips downstairs, because, not +having the full use of my right hand, I have to use a small tray. It was +not till this morning, when I was cleaning the cutlery, that I noticed +that one of the knives I had taken upstairs the night before was +missing. I think that is all, sir." + +The silence which followed, broken only by the rapid travelling of +Superintendent Galloway's pen across the paper, revealed how intently +the fat man's auditors had followed his whispered recital of the events +before the murder. It was Superintendent Galloway who, putting down his +fountain pen, asked the waiter to describe the knife he had missed. + +"It was a small, white-handled knife, sir--not one of the dinner knives, +but one of the smaller ones." + +"Are you sure it was one of the knives you took upstairs last night?" + +"Quite sure, sir. We are very short of good cutlery, and I picked out +this knife to put by the young gentleman's plate because it was a very +good one. It and the carving-knife are the only two knives we have in +that particular white-handled pattern." + +"Was this knife sharp?" + +"Very sharp, with a rather thin blade. I keep all my cutlery in good +order, sir." + +"You seem to have heard a lot that passed last night in spite of your +deafness," said Superintendent Galloway, in the blustering manner he had +found very useful in browbeating rural witnesses in the police courts. +"Is it customary for waiters to listen to everything that is said when +they are waiting at table?" + +"I did not hear everything, sir," rejoined the waiter, and his soft +whisper was in striking contrast to the superintendent's hectoring +tones. "I explained to the other gentleman that I heard very little the +young gentleman said, because I wasn't watching his lips. It was +principally Mr. Glenthorpe's part of the conversation I have related. I +followed almost everything he said because I was watching his lips +closely the whole of the time." + +"Why?" snapped Superintendent Galloway. + +"It was Mr. Glenthorpe's strict instructions that I was to watch his +lips closely every time I waited on him, because of my infirmity. He +disliked very much being waited on by a deaf waiter when first he came +to the inn. He said he didn't want to have to bellow out when he wanted +anything. But when he found that I could understand lip language, and +could follow what he was saying by watching his lips, he allowed me to +wait on him, but he gave me strict instructions never to take my eyes +off him when I was waiting on him, because he disliked having to repeat +an order." + +At the request of Sir Henry, Superintendent Galloway asked the waiter if +he had noticed anything peculiar in the actions of the murdered man's +guest during the dinner. The waiter replied that he had not noticed the +young gentleman particularly. So far as his observation went the young +gentleman had acted just like an ordinary young gentleman, and he had +noticed nothing strange or eccentric about him. + +Mr. Cromering decided to occupy the remaining time at his disposal by +questioning Ann. The stout servant was brought from the kitchen in a +state of trepidation, and, after curtsying awkwardly to the assembled +gentlemen, flopped heavily into a chair, covered her face with her +apron, and burst into sobs. Her story--which was extracted from her with +much difficulty--bore out the innkeeper's account of her early morning +interview with Ronald. She said the poor young gentleman had opened the +door when she knocked with his tea. He was fully dressed, with his boots +in his hand, and he said he wouldn't wait for any breakfast, though she +had offered to cook him some fresh fish the master had caught the day +before. He asked her to clean his boots, but as she was carrying them +away he called her back and said he would wear them as they were. They +were all covered with mud--a regular mask of mud. She wanted to rub the +mud off, but he said that didn't matter: he was in a hurry to get away. +While she had them in her hands she turned them up and looked at the +bottoms, intending to put them to the kitchen fire to dry them if the +soles were wet, and it was then she noticed that there was a circular +rubber heel on one which was missing on the other--only the iron peg +being left. She took particular notice of the peg, because she intended +to hammer it down in the kitchen, thinking it must be very uncomfortable +to walk on, but the young gentleman didn't give her the chance--he just +took the boots from her and walked into his room, shutting the door +behind him. + +Thus far Ann proceeded, between convulsive sobs and jelly-like tremors +of her fat frame. By dint of further questioning, it was elicited from +her that during this colloquy at the bedroom door the young gentleman +had put a pound note into her hand, and told her to give it to her +master in payment of his bill. "It won't be so much as that, sir," she +had said. "What about the change?" + +"Oh, damn the change!" the young gentleman had said, very +impatient-like, and then he had said, "Here's something for yourself," +and put five shillings into her hand. + +"Did the young gentleman seem at all excited during the time you saw +him?" asked the chief constable, anticipating the inevitable question +from Sir Henry. + +"I don't know what you mean by excited, sir. He seemed rarely impatient +to be gone, though anybody might be excited at having to walk across +them nasty marshes in the morning mist without a bite to stay the +stomach. I only hope he didn't catch a chill, the poor young man." + +Further questions on this point only brought forth another shower of +tears, and a sobbing asseveration that she hadn't taken particular +notice of the young gentleman, who was a kind, liberal-hearted +gentleman, no matter what some folk might think. It was evident that the +tip of five shillings had won her heart. + +The chief constable waited for the storm to subside before he was able +to extract the information that Ann hadn't seen the young gentleman +leave the house. He had gone when she took up Mr. Glenthorpe's breakfast +nearly an hour later, and made the discovery that the key of Mr. +Glenthorpe's room was in the outside of the door, and his room empty. +The young gentleman could easily have left the inn without being seen, +for she and Charles were in the kitchen, and nobody else was downstairs +at the time. + +It was in response to Colwyn's whispered suggestion that the chief +constable asked Ann if she had turned off the gas at the meter the +previous night. Yes, she had, she said. She heard the gentlemen leave +the sitting-room upstairs and say good-night to each other as they went +to their bedrooms, and she turned off the gas at the meter underneath +the stair five minutes afterwards, when she had finished her ironing, +and went to bed herself. That would be about half-past ten. + +Mr. Cromering, who did not understand the purport of the question, was +satisfied with the answer, and allowed the servant to retire. But +Colwyn, as he went out to the front to get the motor ready for the +journey to Heathfield, was of a different opinion. + +"Ann may have turned off the gas as she said," he thought, "but it was +turned on again during the night. Did Ann know this, and keep it back, +or was it turned on and off again without her knowledge?" + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +"Everything fits in beautifully," said Superintendent Galloway +confidently. "I never knew a clearer case. All that remains for me to do +is to lay my hands on this chap Ronald, and an intelligent jury will see +to the rest." + +The police official and the detective had dined together in the small +bar parlour on Colwyn's return from driving Mr. Cromering and Sir Henry +Durwood to Heathfield Station. The superintendent had done more than +justice to the meal, and a subsequent glass of the smugglers' brandy had +so mellowed the milk of human kindness in his composition that he felt +inclined for a little friendly conversation with his companion. + +"You are very confident," said Colwyn. + +"Of course I am confident. I have reason to be so. Everything I have +seen to-day supports my original theory about this crime." + +"And what is your theory as to the manner in which this crime was +committed? I have gathered a general idea of the line you are taking by +listening to your conversation this afternoon, but I should like you to +state your theory in precise terms. It is an interesting case, with some +peculiar points about it which a frank discussion might help to +elucidate." + +Superintendent Galloway looked suspiciously at Colwyn out of his small +hard grey eyes. His official mind scented an attempt to trap him, and +his Norfolk prudence prompted him to get what he could from the +detective but to give nothing away in return. + +"I see you're suspicious of me, Galloway," continued Colwyn with a +smile. "You've heard of city detectives and their ways, and you're +thinking to yourself that a Norfolk man is more than a match for any of +them." + +This sally was so akin to what was passing in the superintendent's mind +that a grim smile momentarily relaxed his rugged features. + +"My thoughts are my own, I suppose," he said. + +"Not when you've just given them away," replied Colwyn, in a bantering +tone. "My dear Galloway, your ingenuous countenance is a mirror to your +mind, in which he who runs may read. But you are quite wrong in +suspecting me. I have no ulterior motive. My only interest in this +crime--or in any crime--is to solve it. Anybody can have the credit, as +far as I am concerned. Newspaper notoriety is nothing to me." + +"You've managed to get a good deal of it without looking for it, then," +retorted the superintendent cannily. "It was only the other day I was +reading a long article in one of the London newspapers about you, +praising you for tracking the criminals in the Treasury Bonds case. The +police were not mentioned." + +"Fame--or notoriety--sometimes comes to those who seek it least," +replied the detective genially. "I assure you that article came unasked. +I'm a stranger to the political art of keeping sweet with the +journalists--it was a statesman, you know, who summed up gratitude as a +lively sense of favours to come. Now, in this case, let us play fair, +actuated by the one desire to see that justice is done. This case does +not strike me as quite such a simple affair as it seems to you. You +approach it with a preconceived theory to which you are determined to +adhere. Your theory is plausible and convincing--to some extent--but +that is all the more reason why you should examine and test every link +in the chain. You cannot solve difficult points by ignoring them and, to +my mind, there are some difficult and perplexing features about this +case which do not altogether fit in with your theory." + +"If my mind is an open book to you perhaps you'll tell me what my theory +is," responded Superintendent Galloway, sourly. + +"Yes; that's a fair challenge." The detective pushed back his chair, and +stood with his back against the mantelpiece, with a cigar in his mouth. +"Your theory in this case is that chance and opportunity have made the +crime and the criminal. Chance brings this young man Ronald to this +lonely Norfolk inn, and sees to it that he is allowed to remain when the +landlord wants to turn him away. Chance throws him into the society of a +man of culture and education, who is only too glad of the opportunity of +relieving the tedium of his surroundings in this rough uncultivated +place by passing a few hours in the companionship of a man of his own +rank of life. Chance contrives that this gentleman shall have in his +possession a large sum of money which he shows to Ronald, who is greatly +in need of money. Opportunity suggests the murder, provides the weapon, +and gives Ronald the next room to his intended victim in a wing of the +inn occupied by nobody else. + +"Your theory as to how the murder was actually committed strikes me as +possible enough--up to a certain point. You think that Ronald, after +waiting until everybody in the inn is likely to be asleep, steals out of +his own room to the room of his victim. He finds the door locked. +Chance, however, has thoughtfully provided him with a window opening on +to a hillside, which enables him to climb out of his own window and +into the window of the next room. He gets in, murders Mr. Glenthorpe, +secures his money, and, finding the key of his bedroom under the pillow, +carries the body of his victim downstairs, and outside, casting it into +a deep hole some distance from the house, in the hope of preventing or +retarding discovery of the crime. Through an oversight he forgets the +key in the door, which he had placed in the outside before carrying off +the body, intending when he returned to lock the door and carry the key +away with him. + +"Next morning you have the highly suspicious circumstance of the young +man's hurried departure, his refusal to have his boots cleaned, the +incident of the L1 note, and the unshakable fact that the footprints +leading to and from the pit where the body was discovered had been made +by his boots. + +"As a further contributory link in the chain of evidence against Ronald, +you intend to use the fact that he was turned out of the Grand Hotel, +Durrington, the previous day because he couldn't pay his hotel bill, +because this fact, combined with the fact that Mr. Glenthorpe showed him +the money he had drawn from the bank at Heathfield, supplies a strong +motive for the crime. In this connection you intend to try to establish +that the Treasury note which Ronald left to pay his inn bill was one of +those in Mr. Glenthorpe's possession, because it happens to be one of +the First Treasury issue, printed in black and white, and all Mr. +Glenthorpe's notes were of that issue, according to the murdered man's +own statement. That, I take it, is the police theory of this case." + +"It is," said Superintendent Galloway. "You've put it a bit more +fancifully than I should, but it comes to the same thing. But what do +you make out of the incident at the Grand Hotel, Durrington, yesterday +morning? You were there, and saw it all. Does it seem strange to you +that Ronald should have come straight to this inn and committed a murder +after making that scene at the hotel? Do you think it suggests that +Ronald has, well--impulses of violence, let us say?" Superintendent +Galloway poured himself out another glass of old brandy and sipped it +deliberately, watching the detective cautiously between the sips. + +Colwyn was silent for a moment. He was quick to comprehend the +double-barrelled motive which underlay the superintendent's question, +and he had no intention of letting the police officer pump him for his +own ends. + +"Sir Henry Durwood would be better able to answer that question than I," +he said. + +"I asked him when we were driving over here this afternoon, but he shut +up like an oyster--you know what these professional men are, with their +stiff-and-starched ideas of etiquette," grumbled the superintendent. + +A flicker of amusement showed in Colwyn's eyes. Really the +superintendent was easily drawn, for an East Anglian countryman. "After +all, it is only Sir Henry Durwood's opinion that Ronald intended +violence at the _Grand_," he said. "Sir Henry did not give him the +opportunity to carry out his intention--if he had such an intention." + +"Exactly my opinion," exclaimed Superintendent Galloway, eagerly rising +to the fly. "I have ascertained that Ronald's behaviour during the time +he was staying at the hotel was that of an ordinary sane Englishman. The +proprietor says he was quite a gentleman, with nothing eccentric or +peculiar about him, and the servants say the same. They are the best +judges, after all. And nobody noticed anything peculiar about him at the +breakfast table except yourself and Sir Henry--and what happened? +Nothing, except that he was a bit excited--and no wonder, after the +young man had just been ordered to leave the hotel. Then Sir Henry +grabbed hold of him and he fainted--or pretended to faint; it may have +been all part of his game. Sir Henry may have thought he intended to do +something or other, but no British judge would admit that as evidence +for the defence. This chap Ronald is as sane as you or me, and a deep, +cunning cold-blooded scoundrel to boot. If the defence try to put up a +plea of insanity they'll find themselves in the wrong box. There's not a +jury in the world that wouldn't hang him on the evidence against him." + +This time Colwyn could not forbear smiling at the guileless way in which +Superintendent Galloway had revealed the thoughts which had been passing +through his mind. But his amusement was momentary, and it was in a +grave, earnest tone that he replied: + +"The hotel incident is a puzzling one, but I agree with you that it +doesn't enter into the police case against Ronald. It is your duty to +deal with the facts of the case, and if you think that Ronald committed +this murder----" + +"If I think that Ronald committed this murder!" Superintendent +Galloway's interruption was both amazed and indignant. "I'm as certain +he committed the murder as if I saw him do it with my own eyes. Did you, +or anybody else, ever see a clearer case?" + +"It is because the circumstantial evidence against him is so strong that +I speak as I do," continued Colwyn, in the same earnest tones. "Innocent +men have been hanged in England before now on circumstantial evidence. +It is for that very reason that we should guard ourselves against the +tendency to accept the circumstantial evidence against him as proof of +his guilt, instead of examining all the facts with an open mind. We are +the investigators of the circumstances: it is not for us to prejudge. +That is the worst of circumstantial evidence: it tends to prejudgment, +and sometimes to the ignoring of circumstances and facts which might +tell in favour of the suspect, if they were examined with a more +impartial eye. It is for these reasons that I am always careful to +suspend judgment in cases of circumstantial evidence, and examine +carefully even the smallest trifles which might tell in favour of the +man to whom circumstantial evidence points. + +"Have you discovered anything, since you have been at the inn, which +shakes the theory that Ronald is the murderer?" + +"I have come to the conclusion that the case is much more complex and +puzzling than was at first supposed." + +"I should like to know what makes you think that," returned +Superintendent Galloway. "Up to the present I have seen nothing to shake +my conviction that Ronald is the guilty man. What have you discovered +that makes you think otherwise?" + +"I do not go as far as that--yet. But I have come across certain things +which, to my mind, need elucidation before it is possible to pronounce +definitely on Ronald's guilt or innocence. To take them consecutively, +let me repeat that I cannot reconcile Ronald's excitable conduct at the +Durrington hotel with his supposed actions at the inn. In the former +case he behaved like a man who, whether insane or merely excited, had +not the slightest fear of the consequences. At this inn he acted like a +crafty cautious scoundrel who had weighed the consequences of his acts +beforehand, and took every possible precaution to save his own skin. +You see nothing inconsistent in this----" + +"I do not," interjected the superintendent firmly. + +"Quite so. Then, the next point that perplexes me is why Ronald took the +trouble to carry the body of his victim to the pit and throw it in." + +"For the motive of concealment, and to retard discovery. But for the +footprints it would probably have given him several days--perhaps +weeks--in which to make good his escape." + +"Did he not run a bigger risk of discovery by carrying the body +downstairs in an occupied house, and across several hundred yards of +open land close to the village?" + +"Not in a remote spot like this. They keep early hours in this part of +the country. I guarantee if you walked through the village now you +wouldn't see a soul stirring." + +"Ronald was not likely to know that. Next, how did Ronald, a stranger to +the place, know the locality of this pit so accurately as to be able to +walk straight to it?" + +"Easily. He might have approached the inn from that side, and passed it +on his way. And nothing is more likely than Mr. Glenthorpe would tell +him about the pit in the course of his conversation about the +excavations. There is also the possibility that Ronald knew of the +existence of the pit from a previous visit to this part of the country." + +"My next point is that Ronald was put to sleep in what he imagined was +an upstairs bedroom. How did he discover that his bedroom, and the +bedroom of Mr. Glenthorpe's adjoining, opened on to a hillside which +enabled him to get out of one bedroom and into the other?" + +"Again, Mr. Glenthorpe probably told him--he seems to have been a +garrulous old chap, according to all accounts. Or Ronald may have +looked out of his window when he was retiring, and seen it for himself. +I always look out of a bedroom window, and particularly if it is a +strange bedroom, before getting into bed." + +"These are matters of opinion, and, though your explanations are +possible ones, I do not agree with you. We are looking at this case from +entirely different points of view. You believe that Ronald committed the +murder, and you are allowing that belief to colour everything connected +with the case. I am looking at this murder as a mystery which has not +yet been solved, and, without excluding the possibility that Ronald is +the murderer, I am not going, because of the circumstantial evidence +against him, to accept his guilt as a foregone conclusion until I have +carefully examined and tested all the facts for and against that theory. + +"The one outstanding probability is that Mr. Glenthorpe was murdered for +his money. Now, excluding for the time being the circumstantial evidence +against Ronald--though without losing sight of it--the next point that +arises is was he murdered by somebody in the inn or by somebody from +outside--say, for example, one of the villagers employed on his +excavation works. The waiter's story of the missing knife suggests the +former theory, but I do not regard that evidence as incontrovertible. +The knife might have been stolen from the kitchen by a man who had been +drinking at the bar; indeed, until we have recovered the weapon it is +not even established that this was the knife with which the murder was +committed. It might have been some other knife. We must not take the +waiter's story for granted until we have recovered the knife, and not +necessarily then. But that story, as it stands, inclines to support the +theory that the murder was committed by somebody in the inn. On the +other hand, the theory of an outside murderer lends itself to a very +plausible reconstruction of the crime. Suppose, for example, the murder +had been committed by one of Mr. Glenthorpe's workmen, actuated by the +dual motives of revenge and robbery, or by either motive. Apparently the +whole village knew of Mr. Glenthorpe's intention to draw this money +which was in his possession when he was murdered--he seems to have been +a man who talked very freely of his private affairs--and the amount, +L300, would be a fortune to an agricultural labourer or a fisherman. +Such a man would know all about the bedroom windows on that side of the +inn opening on to the hillside, and would naturally choose that means of +entry to commit the crime. And, if he were a labourer in Mr. +Glenthorpe's employ, the thought of concealing the body by casting it +into the pit would probably occur to him." + +"I do not think there is much in that theory," said Superintendent +Galloway thoughtfully. "Still, it is worth putting to the test. I'll +inquire in the morning if any of the villagers are suspicious +characters, or whether any of Glenthorpe's men had a grudge against +him." + +"Now let us leave theories and speculations and come to facts. Our +investigations of the murdered man's room this afternoon gave us several +clues, not the least important of which is that we are enabled to fix +the actual time of the murder with some degree of accuracy. It is always +useful, in a case of murder, to be able to establish the approximate +time at which it was committed. In this case, the murder was certainly +committed between the hours of 11 p.m. and 11.30 p.m., and, in all +probability, not much before half-past eleven." + +"How do you fix it so accurately as that?" asked the police officer, +looking keenly at the detective. + +"According to Ann, the gentlemen went to their rooms about half-past +ten, and she turned off the gas downstairs shortly afterwards, and went +to bed herself. When we examined the room this afternoon, we found +patches of red mud of the same colour and consistency of the soil +outside the window leading from the window to the bedside, and a +pool--a small isolated pool--of water near the open window. There were, +as you recollect, no footprints outside the window. On the other hand, +the footprints from the inn to the pit are clear and distinct. Rain +commenced to fall last night shortly before eleven, but it did not fall +heavily until eleven o'clock. From then till half-past eleven it was a +regular downpour, when it ceased, and it has not rained since. Now, the +patches of red mud in the bedroom, and the obliteration of footprints +outside the window, prove that the murderer entered the room during the +storm, but the footprints leading to the pit prove that the body was not +removed from the room until the rain had completely ceased, otherwise +they would have been obliterated also, or partly obliterated. These +facts make it clear that the murder was committed between eleven and +half-past, but the pool of water near the window enables us to fix the +time more accurately still, and say that he entered the room during the +time the rain was at its heaviest--that is, between ten minutes past and +half-past eleven." + +"I'm hanged if I see how you fix it so definitely," said the +superintendent, who had been following the other's deductions with +interest. "The pool of water may have collected at any time, once the +window was open." + +"My dear Galloway, you are working on the rule-of-thumb deduction that +the rain blew in the open window and formed the pool. As a matter of +fact, it did nothing of the kind. The wind was blowing the other way, +and _away_ from that side of the house. Furthermore, the hill on that +side of the inn acts as a natural barrier against rain and weather." + +"Then how the deuce do you account for the water in the room?" + +"Surely you have not forgotten the piece of black material we found +sticking on the nail outside the window?" + +"I have not forgotten it, but I do not see how you connect it with the +pool of water." + +"Because it is a piece of umbrella silk. The murderer was carrying an +umbrella--and an open umbrella--have you the piece of silk? If so, let +us look at it." + +The superintendent produced the square inch of silk from his waistcoat +pocket, and examined it closely: "Of course it's umbrella silk," he +exclaimed, slapping his leg. "Funny I didn't recognise it at the time." + +"Perhaps I wouldn't have recognised it myself, but for the fact that a +piece of umbrella silk formed an important clue in a recent case I was +engaged upon," replied the detective. "Experience counts for a +lot--sometimes. See, this piece of silk is hemmed on the edge--pretty +conclusive proof that the murderer was carrying the umbrella open, to +shield him from the rain, and that it caught on the nail outside the +window, tearing off the edge. He closed it as he got inside the window, +and placed it near the window-sill, and the rain dripped off it and +formed the pool of water. The size of the pool, and the fact that the +murderer carried an open umbrella to shield him, prove pretty +conclusively that he made his entrance into the room during the time the +rain was falling heaviest--which was between 11.10 p.m. and 11.30. + +"We now come to what is the most important discovery of all--the pieces +of candle-grease we found in the murdered man's bedroom. They help to +establish two curious facts, the least important of which is that +somebody tried to light the gas in Mr. Glenthorpe's room last night, +and, failing to do so, went downstairs and turned on the gas at the +meter." + +"What if they did?" grunted Superintendent Galloway, pouring out another +glass of brandy. He was secretly annoyed at having overlooked the clue +of the umbrella silk, and was human enough to be angry with the +detective for opening his eyes to the fact. "I don't see how you're +going to prove it, and, even if you did, it doesn't matter a dump one +way or the other." + +"We'll let that point go," rejoined Colwyn curtly. "Your attitude in +shutting your eyes to facts hardly encourages me to proceed, but I'll +try. Would you mind showing me those bits of candle-grease you picked up +in the bedroom?" + +Superintendent Galloway produced a metal match-box from his pocket, +emptied some pieces of candle-grease, a burnt wooden match and a broken +matchhead from it, and sat back eyeing the detective with a supercilious +smile. Colwyn, after examining them closely, brought from his own pocket +an envelope, and shook several more pieces of candle-grease on the +table. + +"Look at these pieces of candle-grease side by side," he said. "Yours +were picked up alongside the bed; I found mine underneath the gas +burner." + +Superintendent Galloway glanced at the pieces of candle-grease with the +same supercilious smile. "I see them," he said. "They are pieces of +candle-grease. What of them?" + +"Do you not see that they are different kinds of candle-grease? The +pieces you picked up alongside the bed are tallow; mine, picked up from +underneath the gas-globe, are wax." + +The Superintendent had not noticed the difference in the candle-grease, +but he thought it beneath his dignity to examine them again. "The +murderer may have had two candles," he said oracularly. "Anyway, what +does it matter? They're both candle-grease." + +Colwyn swept his fragments back into his pocket with a quick impatient +gesture. "Both candle-grease, as you say," he returned sharply. "We do +not seem to be making much progress in our investigations, so let us +discontinue them. Good-night." + + + +CHAPTER X + + +Colwyn went to bed, but not to sleep. Hour after hour he lay awake, +staring into the darkness, endeavouring to put together the facts he had +discovered during the afternoon's investigations at the inn. But they +resembled those irritating odd-shaped pieces of a puzzle which refuse to +fit into the remainder no matter which way they are turned. Try as he +would, he could not fit his clues into harmony with the police theory of +the murder. + +On the other hand, he could not, nor did he attempt, to shut his eyes to +the strong case against Ronald, for he fully realised that there was +much to be explained in the young man's actions before any alternative +theory to that held by the police could be sustained. But so far he did +not see his way to an alternative theory. He sought vainly for a +foundation on which to build his clues and discoveries; for some +overlooked trifle which would help him to read aright the true order and +significance of the jumbled assortment of events in this strange case. + +In the first place, was Ronald's explanation, about losing his way and +wandering to the inn by chance, the true one? The police accepted it +without question, but was it likely that a man who was in the habit of +taking long walks about the coast would lose his way easily? As against +that doubt, there were the statements of the innkeeper and the deaf +waiter that they had never seen Ronald before. If Ronald were not +guilty, why had he departed so hurriedly from the inn that morning? And +if he were not the murderer what was the explanation of the damning +evidence of the footprints leading to the pit in which the body of the +murdered man had been flung? If the discovery of the two kinds of +candle-grease in Mr. Glenthorpe's bedroom indicated that two persons +were in the room on the night of the murder, who were those two persons, +and what did they both go there for? + +He reflected that his only tangible reason, so far, for not accepting +the police theory was based on the belief that two people had been in +the murdered man's room, and that belief rested on the discovery of a +spot of candle-grease which in itself was merely presumptive, but not +conclusive evidence. It was necessary to establish beyond doubt the +supposition that two people had been in the room before he could presume +to draw inferences from it. And, if he succeeded in establishing that +supposition, might not Ronald have been one of the two persons, and the +actual murderer? What was the significance of the broken incandescent +burner, the turned-on gas, and the faint mark under the window? + +These questions revolved in Colwyn's head in a circle, always bringing +him back to his starting point that the solution of the case did not lie +on the surface, and that the police theory could not be made to fit in +with his own discoveries. The latter were in themselves internal +evidence that the whole truth had not yet been brought to light. + +Gradually the line of the circle grew nebulous, and Colwyn was fast +falling asleep through sheer weariness, when a slight sharp sound, like +that made by turning a key in a lock, brought him back to wide-eyed +wakefulness. He sat up in bed, listening with strained ears, feeling for +the box of matches at his bedside. He found them, and endeavoured to +strike a light. But the matches were war matches, and one after another +broke off in his hand against the side of the box. He tried holding the +next close to the head, but the head flew off. With a muttered +malediction on British manufacturers, Colwyn struck several more in +rapid succession before he succeeded in lighting the candle at his +bedside. He got quietly out of bed, and, leaving the candle on the +table, opened his door noiselessly and looked out into the passage. + +He had been put to sleep in a small bedroom in the deserted upstairs +wing where the murder had been committed. His room was opposite the +lumber room, which was three doors away from the room in which the body +of the dead man lay. When the question of accommodation for +Superintendent Galloway and himself had been discussed, the former had +chosen to have a bed made up in the bar parlour downstairs as more +comfortable and snug than any of the bedrooms upstairs, but Colwyn had +consented to sleep in the deserted wing. The innkeeper, who had lighted +him upstairs, had apologised for the humble room and scanty furniture, +but Colwyn had laughingly accepted the shortcomings of the room as a +point of no importance, and had stood at his door for some moments +watching a queer effect in shadows caused by the innkeeper's candle +throwing gigantic wavering outlines of his gaunt retreating figure on +the bare stone wall as he went down the side passage to his own bedroom. + +Colwyn, looking out into the passage, could hear or see nothing to +account for the sound that had startled him into wakefulness. The candle +by his bedside gave a feeble glimmer which did not reach to the door, +and the passage was as dark and silent as the interior of a vault. The +stillness and blackness seemed to float into the bedroom like a cloud. +But he was certain he had not been mistaken. A door had been unlocked +somewhere in the darkness, and it had been unlocked by human hands. Who +had come to that deserted wing of the inn in the small hours, and on +what business? He decided to explore the passage and find out. + +He left the door of his room partly open while he donned a few articles +of clothing, and pulled a pair of slippers on his feet. He glanced at +his watch, and noted with surprise that it wanted but a few minutes to +three o'clock. He extinguished his candle and, taking his electric +torch, crept silently into the passage. + +He recalled the arrangements of the rooms as he had observed them the +previous afternoon. There were three more bedrooms adjoining his, all +empty. On the other side of the passage was the lumber room opposite, +next came the room in which Ronald slept, then the dead man's room, and +finally the sitting-room he had occupied. The door of the sitting-room +opened not very far from the head of the stairs. + +Colwyn first examined the bedrooms on his side of the passage, stepping +as noiselessly as a cat, opening and shutting each door without a sound, +and scrutinising the interiors by the light of his torch. They were +empty and deserted, as he had seen them the previous afternoon. On +reaching the end of the passage he glanced over the head of the +staircase, but there was no light glimmering in the square well of +darkness and no sound in the lower part of the house to suggest that +anybody was stirring downstairs. He turned away, and made his way back +along the passage, trying the doors on the other side with equal +precaution as he went. The first three doors--the sitting-room, the +murdered man's bedroom, and Ronald's bedroom--were locked, as he had +seen them locked the previous afternoon by Superintendent Galloway, who +had carried the keys away with him until after the inquest on the body. + +The lumber room at the other end of the passage had not been locked, and +the door stood ajar. Colwyn entered it, and by the glancing light of the +torch looked over the heavy furniture, mouldering linen, and stiffly +upended bedpoles and curtain rods which nearly filled the room. The +clock of a bygone generation stood on the mantel-piece, and the black +winding hole in its white face seemed to leer at him like an evil eye as +the light of the torch fell on it. But nobody had been in the room. The +dust which encrusted the furniture and the floor had not been disturbed +for months. + +Colwyn returned, puzzled, to his own room. Could he have been mistaken? +Was it possible that the sound he had heard had been caused by the door +of the lumber room swinging to? No! the sound had been too clear and +distinct to admit the possibility of mistake, and it had been made by +the grating of a key in a lock, not by a swinging door. He stood in the +darkness by his open door, listening intently. Several minutes passed in +profound silence, and then there came a scraping, spluttering sound. +Somebody not far away had struck a match. Looking cautiously out into +the passage, he saw, to his utter amazement, a gleam of light appear +beneath the door in which the dead man lay. The next moment the gleam +moved up the line of the door sideways, cutting into the darkness +outside like a knife. The gleam became broader until the whole door was +revealed. Somebody inside was opening it. Even as he looked a hand stole +forth from the aperture through which the light streamed, and rested on +the jamb outside. + +Colwyn was a man of strong nerves, but that sudden manifestation of +light and a human hand from a sealed death chamber momentarily +unbalanced his common sense, and caused it to swing like a pendulum +towards the supernatural. He would not have been surprised if the light +and the hand had been followed by the apparition of the murdered man on +the threshold, demanding vengeance on his murderer. The feeling passed +immediately, and with the return of reason the detective stepped back +into his room, closed his door quietly, and watched through a knife's +edge slit for the visitor to the death chamber to appear. + +The door of the dead man's room opened gently, and the face of the +innkeeper's daughter peered forth into the darkness, her impassive face, +behind which everything was hid, showing like a beautiful waxen mask +against the light of the candle she held in her hand. Her clear gaze +rested on Colwyn's door, and it seemed to him for a moment as though +their glances met through the slit, then her eyes swept along the +passage from one end to the other. As if satisfied by the scrutiny that +she had nothing to fear, she stepped forth from the death chamber, +closed and locked the door behind her, withdrew the key, walked swiftly +along the passage to the head of the stairs, and descended them. + +Colwyn opened his door and followed her. He paused outside to pick up +the boots which he had placed there to be cleaned, and carrying them in +his hand, ran quickly to the head of the stairs. Looking over the +landing, he saw the girl reach the bottom of the stairs and turn down +the passage towards the back door, still carrying the lighted candle in +her hand. + +When Colwyn reached the bottom, the girl and the light had disappeared. +But a swift gust of wind in the passage revealed to him that she had +gone out by the back door, and closed it after her. He followed along +the passage till he felt the latch of the back door in his hand. The +door yielded to the lifting of the latch, and he found himself in the +open air. + +It was a grey northern night, with a bitter wind driving the sea mist in +billows over the marshes, and a waning half moon shining fitfully +through the dingy clouds which scudded across a lead-coloured sky. By +the light of the moon he saw the figure of the girl, already some +distance from the house, swiftly making her way along the reedy canal +path which threaded the oozing marshes. + +Colwyn was not a stranger to marshlands. He had waded knee-deep from dawn +to dusk through Irish bogs after wild geese; he had followed the +migratory seafowl of Finland, Russia and Serbia into their Scottish +breeding haunts, and he had once tried to keep pace with the sweep of +the Bore over the Solway Marshes, but he had never undertaken a task so +difficult as following this girl across a Norfolk marshland. The path +she trod so unhesitatingly was narrow, and slippery, with the canal on +one side and the marshes on the other. In keeping clear of the canal +Colwyn frequently found himself slipping into the marshes. His feet and +legs speedily became wet and caked with ooze, and once he nearly lost +one of his boots, which he had pulled on hurriedly outside the inn, and +left unlaced. + +But the girl walked straight on with a swift and even gait, treading the +narrow path across the morass as securely as though she had been on the +high road. Colwyn soon realised that the path they were following was +taking them straight across the marshes to the sea. The surging of the +waves against the breakwater sounded increasingly loud on his ears, and +after a while he saw the breakwater itself rise momentarily out of the +darkness like a yellow wall, only to disappear again. But presently it +was visible once more, looming out in increasing clearness, with a +ghostly glimmering of the grey waters of the North Sea heaving +turbulently outside. + +As they neared the breakwater the path became drier and firmer, and the +light of the moon, falling through a ragged rift in the scurrying +clouds, showed a line of sand banks and strips of tussock-land emerging +from the marshes as the marshes approached the sea. + +The girl kept on with the same resolute pace, until she reached a spot +where the canal found its outlet to the sea. There she turned aside and +skirted the breakwater wall for a little distance, as if searching for +something. The next moment she was scaling the breakwater wall. Colwyn +was too far away to intercept her, or reach her if she slipped. He +stopped and watched her climb to the top of the wall, and stand there, +like a creature of the sea, with the spray leaping hungrily at her +slight figure. He saw her take something from the bosom of her dress and +cast it into the wild waste of seething waters in front of her. Having +done this she turned to descend the breakwater. Colwyn had barely time +to leave the path, and take refuge in the shadow of the wall, before she +reached the path again and set out to retrace her steps across the +lonely marshes. + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +Colwyn waited on the marshes until the coming of the dawn revealed the +breakwater and the sea crashing against it. A brief scrutiny of the +white waste of waters, raging endlessly against the barrier, convinced +him of the futility of attempting to discover what the innkeeper's +daughter had thrown from the breakwater wall an hour before. The sea +would retain her secret. + +The sea mist hung heavily over the marshes as Colwyn cautiously picked +his way back along the slippery canal path. Sooner than he expected, the +inn appeared from the grey mist like a sheeted ghost. Colwyn stood for a +few moments regarding the place attentively. There was something weird +and sinister about this lonely inn on the edge of the marshes. Strange +things must have happened there in the past, but the lawless secrets of +a bygone generation of smugglers had been safely kept by the old inn. +The cold morning light imparted the semblance of a leer to the circular +windows high up in the white wall, as though they defied the world to +discover the secret of the death of Roger Glenthorpe. + +There was no sign of life about the inn as Colwyn approached it. The +back door yielded to his pull on the latch, and he gained his room +unobserved; apparently all the inmates were still wrapped in slumber. +Colwyn spent half an hour or so in making some sort of a toilet. He had +brought a suit-case with him in the car, so he changed his wet clothes, +shaved himself in cold water, washed, and brushed his hair. He looked +at his watch, and found that it was after six o'clock. He wondered if +the girl Peggy was sleeping after her night's adventure. + +A swishing noise, somewhere in the lower regions, broke the profound +stillness of the house. Somebody was washing the floor, somewhere. +Colwyn opened his door and went downstairs. Ann, the stout servant, was +washing the passage. She was on her hands and knees, with her back +towards the staircase, swabbing vigorously, and did not see the +detective descending the stairs. + +"Good morning, Ann," said Colwyn, pleasantly. + +She turned her head quickly, with a start, and Colwyn could have sworn +that the quick glance she gave him was one of fear. But she merely said, +"Good morning, sir," and went on with her work, while the detective +stood looking at her. She finished the passage in a few minutes and got +awkwardly to her feet, wiping her red hands on her coarse apron. + +"You and I are the only early risers in the house, it seems, Ann," said +Colwyn, still regarding her attentively. + +"If you please, sir, Charles is up, and gone out to the canal to see if +there are any fish for breakfast on the master's night lines." + +"Fresh fish for breakfast! Well, that's a very good thing," replied the +detective, reflecting it was just as well that he had got in before +Charles went out. "What time does Mr. Benson come down?" + +"About half-past seven, sir, as a general rule, but sometimes he has his +breakfast in bed." + +"That's not a bad idea at times, Ann. But I see you are impatient to get +on with your work. Would you mind if I went into the kitchen and talked +to you while you are preparing breakfast?" + +Again there was a gleam of fear in the woman's eyes as she looked +quickly at the detective, but her voice was self-possessed as she +replied: + +"Very well, sir," and turned down the passage which led to the kitchen. + +"What time was it when you turned off the gas the night before last?" +asked Colwyn, when the kitchen was reached. "You told us yesterday that +it was about half-past ten, but you did not seem very sure of the exact +time. Can you not fix it accurately? Try and think." + +The look the woman gave Colwyn this time was undoubtedly one of relief. + +"Well, sir," she said, "I usually turn off the gas at ten o'clock, but, +to tell you the truth, I was a little bit late that night." + +"A little bit late, eh? That means you forgot all about it." + +"I did forget about it, and that's the truth. The master told me not to +turn off the meter until the gentlemen in the parlour upstairs had gone +to bed. Charles told me when he came down from the upstairs parlour with +the last of the dinner things that the gentlemen were still sitting in +front of the fire talking, but some time after Charles had come down and +gone to bed I heard them moving about upstairs, as though they were +going to their rooms." + +"What time was that?" asked the detective. + +"Just half-past ten. I happened to glance at the kitchen clock at the +time. Charles, who had been told that he wouldn't be wanted upstairs +again, had gone to bed quite half an hour before, but I didn't go until +I had folded some clothes which I had airing in front of the kitchen +fire. When I did get to bed, and was just falling off to sleep, I +suddenly remembered that I had forgotten to turn off the gas at the +meter. I got out of bed again, lit my candle, and went up the passage to +the meter, which is just under the foot of the stairs, turned off the +gas, and went back to bed." + +"Did you notice the time then?" + +"The kitchen clock was just chiming eleven as I got back to my bed." + +"You are sure it was not twelve?" + +"Quite sure, sir." + +"Did you hear any sound upstairs?" + +"No, sir. It was as quiet as the dead." + +"Was it raining at that time?" + +"It started to rain heavens hard just as I got back to bed, but before +that the wind was moaning round the house, as it do moan in these parts, +and I knew we was in for a storm. I was glad enough to get back to my +warm bed." + +"You might have seen something, if you had been a little later. The +staircase is the only way the body could have been brought down from +_there_." The detective pointed to the room above where the dead man +lay. + +The woman trembled violently. + +"It's God's mercy I didn't see something," she said, and her voice fell +to a husky whisper. "I should 'a' died wi' fright if I had seen _it_ +being brought downstairs. All day long I've been thanking God I didn't +see anything." + +"Do nobody else but you and Charles sleep downstairs?" + +"Nobody, sir. I sleep in a small room off the kitchen, but Charles +sleeps in one of the rooms in the passage which leads off the kitchen, +the first room, not far from my own. But that'd been no help to me if +I'd seen anything. I might have screamed the house down before Charles +would have heard me, he being stone deaf." + +"Quite true, Ann. And now is that all you have to tell me about the +gas?" + +The woman seemed to have some difficulty in replying, but finally she +stammered out in an embarrassed voice, plucking at her apron the while: + +"Yes, sir." + +"Look at me, Ann, and tell me the truth. Come now, it will be better for +everybody." + +The countrywoman looked at the detective with whitening face, and there +was something in his penetrating gaze that kept her frightened eyes +fixed on his. + +"Please, sir----" + +"Yes, Ann, go on," prompted the detective encouragingly. + +But the woman didn't go on; there crept into her face instead an +obstinate look, her mouth closed tightly, and her hands ceased +twitching. + +"I've told you everything, sir," she said quietly. + +"You've not told me you found the meter turned on when you got up next +morning," replied the detective sternly. + +The woman's fat face turned haggard with anxiety, and then she began to +cry softly with her apron to her eyes. + +"Why did you not tell us this, Ann?" + +"If you please, sir, I thought that the master mightn't like it if he +knew. He's very particular about having the gas turned off at night, and +he might have thought I had forgotten it." + +Colwyn gave her another searching look. + +"Even if that were true, Ann, you have no right to keep back anything +that may tend to shield the guilty, or injure the innocent." + +"I didn't think it mattered, sir." + +"You still say that you heard nothing after you went to bed?" + +"No, sir. I fell asleep as soon as I got into bed." + +"So you said before, but you did not tell us the whole truth yesterday, +you know, and I do not know whether to believe you now." + +"Hush, sir, there's somebody coming down the passage." + +Colwyn strolled into the passage and encountered Superintendent Galloway +coming towards the kitchen. He stared at the detective and exclaimed: + +"Hello, you're up early." + +"Yes; I found it difficult to sleep, so I came downstairs." + +"I hope you've not been making love to Ann," said Galloway, who had his +own sense of humour. "I'm looking for this infernal waiter, Charles. He +is never about when he's wanted. Charles! Charles!" + +Superintendent Galloway's shouts brought Ann hurrying from the kitchen, +and she explained to him, as she had explained to Colwyn, that Charles +had gone on to the marshes to look for fish. + +"Send him to my room as soon as he comes in; I've other fish for him to +fry," grumbled the superintendent. "A queer household this," he said to +Colwyn, as they walked along the passage. "Ah, here is Charles, fish and +all." + +The fat waiter was hurrying in with a string of fish in his hand, and he +came towards them in response to Superintendent Galloway's commanding +gesture. The superintendent told him to go out and intercept Constable +Queensmead before he went out with his search party, and bring him to +the inn. Charles nodded an indication that he understood the +instruction, and turned away to execute it. + +"I want Queensmead to get a dozen of the village blockheads together for +a jury," he said to Colwyn. "The coroner sent me word before we left +Durrington yesterday that he'd be over this morning, but he did not say +what time, and I forgot to ask him. He's the man to kick up a devil of a +shindy if he came and found we were not ready for him." + +Queensmead speedily appeared in response to the summons, listened +quietly to Superintendent Galloway's laconic command to catch a jury and +catch them quick, and went back to the village to secure twelve good men +and true. + +Colwyn and Galloway meanwhile breakfasted together in the bar parlour, +on some of the fish which Charles had brought in. As nothing followed +the fish Superintendent Galloway, who was an excellent trencherman, rang +the bell and ordered the waiter to bring some eggs and bacon. The waiter +hesitated a moment, and then said that he believed they were out of +bacon. There were some eggs, if they would do. + +"Bring me a couple, boiled, as quick as you like," said the +superintendent. "This is a queer kind of inn," he grumbled to Colwyn. +"They don't give you enough to eat." + +"I think they're a little short themselves," replied Colwyn. + +"By Jove, I believe you're right!" said the superintendent, staring hard +at the edibles on the table before him. "There's not much here--a piece +of butter no bigger than a walnut, a spoonful of jam, and tea as weak +as water. Come to think of it, they gave us nothing but some of +Glenthorpe's left over game for dinner last night. You're right, they +are _hard up_." + +Superintendent Galloway looked at Colwyn with as much animation on his +heavy features as though he had lighted on some new and important +discovery. Colwyn, who had finished his breakfast and was not +particularly interested in the conversation, strolled out with the +intention of smoking a cigar outside the front door. In the passage he +encountered Ann, bearing a tray with two cups and saucers, a pot of tea +and some bread and butter which she proceeded to carry upstairs. Colwyn +wondered for whom the breakfast was intended. There were three people +upstairs--the father, his daughter, and the poor mad woman, and the +breakfast was laid for two. The appearance of the innkeeper descending +the stairs, answered the question. Colwyn accosted him as he came down. + +"You're a late riser, Benson." + +"Yes, sir, it's a bit difficult to handle Mother in the morning: the +only way to keep her quiet is for me to stay with her until Peggy is +ready to go to her and give her her breakfast. Mother is quiet enough +with Peggy and me, but nobody else can do anything with her, and +sometimes nobody can do anything with her except my daughter. She spends +a lot of time with her, sir." + +The innkeeper looked more like a bird than ever as he proffered this +explanation, standing at the foot of the stairs dressed as he had been +the previous night, with his bright bird's eyes peering from beneath his +shock of iron-grey hair at the man in front of him. Colwyn noticed that +his hair had been recently wet, and plastered straight down so that it +hung like a ridge over his forehead--just as it had been the previous +night. Colwyn wondered why the man wore his hair like that. Did he +always affect that eccentric style of hairdressing, or had he adopted it +to alter his personal appearance--to disguise himself, or to conceal +something? + +"It's no life for a young girl," said the detective, in answer to the +innkeeper's last remark. + +"I know that, sir. But what am I to do? I cannot afford to keep a nurse. +Peggy never complains. She's used to it. But if you'll excuse me, sir. I +must go and get the room ready for the inquest." + +"What room is it going to be held in?" + +"Superintendent Galloway told me to put a table and some chairs into the +last empty room off the passage leading into the kitchen. It's the +biggest room in the house, and there are plenty of chairs in the lumber +room upstairs." + +"It should do excellently for the purpose, I should think," said Colwyn. + +A few moments later he saw the innkeeper and the waiter carrying chairs +from the lumber room downstairs into the empty room, where Ann dusted +them. Then they carried in a small table from another room. +Superintendent Galloway, with inky fingers and a red face, and a sheaf +of foolscap papers in his hand, came bustling out of the bar parlour to +superintend the arrangements. When the chairs had been placed to his +liking he ordered the innkeeper to bring him a glass of ale. While he +was drinking it Constable Queensmead entered the front door with a file +of shambling, rough-looking villagers trailing behind him, and announced +to his superior officer that the men were intended to form a jury. +Superintendent Galloway seemed quite satisfied with their appearance, +and remarked to Colwyn that he didn't care how soon the coroner +arrived--now he had the jury and witnesses ready for him. + +"How many witnesses do you propose to call?" said Colwyn. + +"Five: Queensmead, Benson, the waiter, and the two men who found the +footprints leading to the pit and who recovered the body and brought it +here. That's enough for a committal. The coroner will no doubt bring a +doctor from Heathfield to certify the cause of death. I've got all the +statements ready. I took Benson's and the waiter's yesterday. The +waiter's evidence is the principal thing, of course. Do you remember +suggesting to me last night the possibility of this murder having been +committed by one of Mr. Glenthorpe's workmen with a grudge against him? +Well, it's a very strange thing, but Queensmead was telling me this +morning that one of Mr. Glenthorpe's workmen had a grudge against him. +He's a chap named Hyson, the local ne'er-do-well, who was almost +starving when Mr. Glenthorpe came to the district. Glenthorpe was warned +against employing him, but the fellow got round him with a piteous tale, +and he put him on. He proved to be just as ungrateful as the average +British workman, and caused the old gentleman a lot of trouble. He seems +to have been a bit of a sea lawyer, and tried to disaffect the other +workmen by talking to them about socialism, and the rights of labour, +and that sort of rubbish. When I heard this I had the chap brought to +the inn and cross-questioned him a bit, but I am certain that he had +nothing to do with the murder. He's a weak, spineless sort of chap, full +of argument and fond of beer--that's his character in the village--and +the last man in the world to commit a murder like this. I flatter +myself," added Superintendent Galloway in a tone of mingled +self-complacency and pride, "that I know a murderer when I see one." + +"Have you made any inquiries about umbrellas?" asked Colwyn. + +"Yes. Apparently Ronald did not bring an umbrella with him, though it's +cost me some trouble to establish that fact. It is astonishing how +unobservant people are about such things as umbrellas, sticks, and +handbags. Most people remember faces and clothes with some accuracy, but +cannot recall whether a person carried an umbrella or walking-stick. +Charles is not sure whether Ronald carried an umbrella, Benson thinks he +did not, and Ann is sure he didn't. The balance of evidence being on the +negative side, I assume that Ronald did not bring an umbrella to the +inn, because it was more likely to have been noticed if he had. I next +inquired about the umbrellas in the house. At first I was told there +were only two--a cumbrous, Robinson Crusoe sort of affair, kept in the +kitchen and used by the servant, and a smaller one, belonging to +Benson's daughter. I have examined both. The covering of the girl's +umbrella is complete. Ann's is rent in several places, but the covering +is blue, whereas the piece of umbrella covering we found adhering to Mr. +Glenthorpe's window is black. While I was questioning Ann she suddenly +remembered that there was another umbrella in that lumber-room upstairs. +We went upstairs to look for it, but we couldn't find it, though Ann +says she saw it there a day or two before the murder. I think we may +assume that Ronald took it." + +"But Ronald was a stranger to the place. How would he know the umbrella +was in the lumber-room?" said Colwyn, who had followed Galloway's +narrative with close attention. + +"The door of the lumber-room stands ajar. Ronald probably looked in from +curiosity, and saw the umbrella." + +The easy assurance with which Superintendent Galloway dismissed or got +over difficulties which interfered with his own theory did not commend +itself to Colwyn, but he did not pursue the point further. + +"Is the umbrella still missing?" he asked. + +"Yes. It seems that even a murderer cannot be trusted to return an +umbrella." Superintendent Galloway laughed shortly at his grim joke and +walked away to supervise the preparations for the inquest. + +The coroner presently arrived from Heathfield in a small runabout +motor-car which he drove himself, with a tall man sitting beside him, +and a short pursy young man in the back seat nursing a portable +typewriter and an attache case on his knees. Toiling in the rear, some +distance behind the car, was a figure on a bicycle, which subsequently +turned out to be the reporter of the Heathfield local paper, who had +come over with instructions from one of the London agencies to send a +twenty line report of the inquest for the London press. In peace times +"specials" would probably have been despatched from the metropolis to +"do a display story," and interview some of the persons concerned, but +the war had discounted by seventy-five per cent the value of murders as +newspaper "copy." + +The coroner, a short, stout, commonplace little man, jumped out of the +car as soon as it stopped, and bustled into the inn with an air of fussy +official importance, leaving his companions to follow. + +"Good day, Galloway," he exclaimed, as that officer came forward to +greet him. "I hope you've got everything ready." + +"Everything's ready, Mr. Edgehill. Do you intend to commence before +lunch?" + +"Of course I do. Are you aware that it is war-time? How many witnesses +have you?" + +"Five, sir. Their statements have all been taken." + +"Then I shall go straight through--it seems a simple case--merely a +matter of form, from what I have heard of it. I have another inquest at +Downside at four o'clock. Where's the body? Upstairs? Doctor"--this to +the tall thin man who had sat beside him in the run-about--"will you go +upstairs with Queensmead and make your examination? Where's the jury? +Pendy"--this to the young man with the typewriter and attache case--"get +everything ready and swear in the jury. Galloway will show you the room. +What's that? Oh, that's quite all right"--this in reply to some murmured +apology on the part of Superintendent Galloway for the mental incapacity +of the jury--"we ought to be glad to get juries at all--in war-time." + +Colwyn had feared that the result of the inquest was a foregone +conclusion the moment he saw the coroner alighting from his motor-car +outside the inn. Ten minutes later, when the little man had commenced +his investigations, he realised that the proceedings were merely a +formal compliance with the law, and in no sense of the word an inquiry. + +Mr. Edgehill, the coroner, was one of those people who seized upon the +war as a pretext for the exercise of their natural proclivity to +interfere in other people's affairs. He took the opportunity that every +inquest gave him to lecture the British public on their duties and +responsibilities in war-time. The body on which he was sitting formed +his text, the jury was his congregation, and the newspaper reporters the +vehicles by which his admonitions were conveyed to the nation. Mr. +Edgehill saw a shirker in every suicide, national improvidence in a +corpse with empty pockets, and had even been able to discover a +declining war _morale_ in death by misadventure. He thanked God for air +raids and food queues because they brought the war home to civilians, +and he was never tired of asserting that he lived on half the voluntary +rations scale, did harder work, felt ten years younger, and a hundred +times more virtuous, in consequence. + +If he did not actually insert the last clause his look implied a +superior virtue to his fellow creatures, and was meekly accepted as +such. He never held an inquest without introducing some remarks upon +uninterned aliens, the military age, Ireland and conscription, soldiers' +wives and drinking, the prevalence of bigamy, and other popular war-time +topics. In short, Mr. Edgehill, like many other people, had used the war +to emerge from a chrysalis existence as a local bore into a butterfly +career as a public nuisance. In that capacity he was still good "copy" +in some of the London newspapers, and was even occasionally referred to +in leading articles as a fine example of the sturdy country spirit which +Londoners would do well to emulate. + +Before commencing his inquiry into the death of Mr. Glenthorpe, the +coroner indignantly expressed his surprise that a small hamlet like +Flegne could produce so many able-bodied men to serve on a jury in +war-time. But after ascertaining that all the members of the jury were +over military age, with the exception of one man who was afflicted with +heart disease, he suffered the inquest to proceed. + +The evidence of the innkeeper and the waiter was a repetition of the +story they had told to the chief constable on the preceding day. +Constable Queensmead, in his composed way, gave an account of his +preliminary investigations into the crime, and the finding of the body. + +The only additional evidence brought forward was given by two of the men +who had been in the late Mr. Glenthorpe's employ. These men, Herward and +Duney, had found the track of the footprints in the clay near the pit on +going to work the previous morning. After the discovery that Mr. +Glenthorpe was missing from the inn, Herward had been let down into the +pit by a rope, and had brought up the body. Both these men told their +story with a wealth of unlettered detail, and Duney, who was one of the +aboriginals of the district, added his personal opinion that t'oud +ma'aster mun 'a' been very dead afore the chap got him in the pit, else +he would 'a' dinged one of the chap's eyes in, t'oud ma'aster not bein' +a man to be taken anywhere against his will. However, the chap that +carried him must 'a' been powerful strong, because Herward told him his +own arms were begunnin' ter ache good tidily just a-howdin' him up to +the rope when they wor being a-hawled out the pit. + +The coroner, in his summing up, dwelt upon the strong circumstantial +evidence against Ronald, and the folly of the deceased in withdrawing a +large sum of money from the bank for the purpose of carrying out +scientific research in war-time. "Had he invested that money in war +bonds he would have probably been alive to-day," said Mr. Edgehill +gravely. The jury had no hesitation in returning a verdict of wilful +murder against James Ronald. + +The coroner, the doctor, the clerk carrying the typewriter and the +attache case, and Superintendent Galloway departed in the runabout +motor-car shortly afterwards. Before evening a mortuary van, with two +men, appeared from Heathfield and removed the body of the murdered man. + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +If the inmates of the inn felt any surprise at Colwyn's remaining after +the inquest, they did not betray it. That evening Ann nervously +intercepted him to ask if he would have a partridge for his dinner, and +Colwyn, remembering the shortness of the inn larder, replied that a +partridge would do very well. Later on Charles served it in the bar +parlour, and waited with his black eyes fixed on Colwyn's lips, +sometimes anticipating his orders before they were uttered. He brought a +bottle of claret from the inn cellar, assuring Colwyn in his soft +whisper that he would find the wine excellent, and Colwyn, after +sampling it, found no reason for disagreeing with the waiter's judgment. + +At the conclusion of the meal Colwyn sent for the innkeeper, and asked +him a number of questions about the district and its inhabitants. The +innkeeper intimated that Flegne was a poor place at the best of times, +but the war had made it worse, and the poorer folk--the villagers who +lived in the beach-stone cottages--were sometimes hard-pressed to keep +body and soul together. They did what they could, eking out their scanty +earnings by eel-fishing on the marshes, and occasionally snaring a few +wild fowl. Mr. Glenthorpe's researches in the district had been a +godsend because of the employment he had given, which had brought a +little ready money into the place. + +It was obvious to Colwyn's alert intelligence that the innkeeper did not +care to talk about his dead guest. + +There was no visible reluctance--indeed, it would have been hard to +trace the sign of any particular emotion on his queer, bird-like +face--but his replies were slow in coming when questioned about Mr. +Glenthorpe, and he made several attempts to turn the conversation in +another direction. When he had finished a glass of wine Colwyn offered +him, he got up from the table with the remark that it was time for him +to return to the bar. + +"I will go with you," said Colwyn. "It will help to pass away an hour." + +There were about a dozen men in the bar--agricultural labourers and +fishermen--clustered in groups of twos and threes in front of the +counter, or sitting on stools by the wall, drinking ale by the light of +a smoky oil lamp which hung from the rafters. The fat deaf waiter was in +the earthy recess behind the counter, drawing ale into stone mugs. + +A loud voice which had been holding forth ceased suddenly as Colwyn +entered. The inmates of the bar regarded him questioningly, and some +resentfully, as though they considered his presence an intrusion. But +Colwyn was accustomed to making himself at home in all sorts of company. +He walked across the bar, called for some whisky, and, while it was +being served, addressed a friendly remark to the nearest group to him. +One of the men, a white-bearded, keen-eyed Norfolk man, answered his +question civilly enough. He had asked about wild fowl shooting in the +neighbourhood, and the old man had been a water bailiff on the Broads in +his younger days. The question of sport will draw most men together. One +after another of the villagers joined in the conversation, and were soon +as much at home with Colwyn as though they had known him from boyhood. +Some of them were going eel-fishing that night, and Colwyn violated the +provisions of the "no treating" order to give them a glass of whisky to +keep out the cold of the marshes. The rest of the tap room he regaled +with ale. + +From these Norfolk fishermen Colwyn learnt many of the secrets of the +wild and many cunning methods of capturing its creatures, but the real +object of his visit to the bar--to discover whether any of the +frequenters of the _Golden Anchor_ had ever seen Ronald in the district +before the evening of the murder--remained unsatisfied. He was a +stranger to "theer" parts, the men said, in response to questions on the +subject. + +But "theer" parts were limited to a mile or so of the marshland in which +they spent their narrow, lonely lives. Their conversation revealed that +they seldom went outside that narrow domain. Durrington, which was +little more than ten miles away, was only a name to them. Many of them +had not been as far as Leyland for months. They spent their days +catching eels in the marsh canals, or in setting lobster and crab traps +outside the breakwater. The agricultural labourers tilled the same patch +of ground year after year. They had no recreations except an occasional +night at the inn; their existence was a lifelong struggle with Nature +for a bare subsistence. Most of them had been born in the beach-stone +cottages where their fathers had been born before them, and most of them +would die, as their fathers had died, in the little damp bedrooms where +they had first seen the light, passing away, as their fathers had passed +away, listening to the sound of the North Sea restlessly beating against +the breakwater. That sound was never out of their ears while they lived, +and it was the dirge to which they died. Such was their life, but they +knew no other, and wished no other. + +Colwyn was early astir the following morning, and after breakfast went +out. His purpose was to try to discover something which would throw +light on Ronald's appearance at Flegne. With that object he scoured the +country for some miles in the direction of Heathfield, for he deemed the +possibility of Ronald having come by that route worth inquiring into. +But his time was wasted; none of his inquiries brought to light anything +to suggest that Ronald had ever been in the district before. + +When he returned to the village the day was more than half spent. As he +entered the inn, he encountered Charles, who stopped when he saw him. + +"There are two men in the bar asking to see you, sir," he said, in his +soft whisper. "Duney and Backlos are their names. They say they saw you +in the bar last night, and they would like to speak to you privately, if +you have no objection." + +"Show them into the bar parlour," the detective said. "And, Charles, you +might ask Ann to let me have a little lunch when they are gone." + +Colwyn proceeded to the bar parlour. A moment or two afterwards the +waiter ushered in two men and withdrew, closing the door after him. + +In response to Colwyn's request, his two visitors seated themselves +awkwardly, but they seemed to have considerable difficulty in stating +the object of their visit. Duney, one of the men who had helped to +recover Mr. Glenthorpe's body from the pit, was a short, thickset, +hairy-faced man, with round surprised eyes, which he kept intently fixed +upon the detective's face, as though seeking inspiration for speech from +that source. The other man, Backlos, was a tall, hawk-featured man with +a sweeping black moustache, who needed only gaudy habiliments to make +him the ideal pirate king of the comic opera stage. It was he who spoke +first. + +"If you please, ma'aster, we uns come to you thinkin' as you might gi' +us a bit o' advice." + +"About somefin' we seed last night," explained Mr. Duney, finding his +own voice at the sound of his companion's. + +"I thowt 'ow 'twas agreed 'tween us I wor to tell the gentleman, bor?" +growled the pirate king, turning a pair of dusky eyes on his companion. +"Yow allus have a way o' overdoin' things, you know, Dick." + +"Right, bor, right," replied Mr. Duney. "Yow oughter know I only wanted +to help yow out, Billy." + +"I dawn't want onny helpin' out," replied the pirate. "It's loike this +'ere, ma'aster," he continued, turning again to Colwyn. "Arter Dick and +I left the _Anchor_ las' night, we thowt we'd be walkin' a spell. We wor +a talkin' o' th' murder at th' time, and wonderin' what we wor to do fur +another job o' work, things bein' moighty bad heerabouts, when, as we +neared top o' th' rise, we heered the rummiest kind o' noise a man ever +heerd, comin' from that theer wood by th' pits. Dick says to me, in a +skeered kind of voice, 'That's fair a rum un,' says he. There wornt much +mune at th' time, but we could see things clar enough, and thow we +looked around us we couldn't see a livin' thing a movin' either nigh th' +woods nor on th' ma'shes. While we looked we seed a big harnsee rise out +o' th' woods and go a flappin' away across th' ma'shes. Then all of a +suddint we saw somefin' come a-wamblin' outer the shadder o' the wood, +and run along by th' edge of ut. We couldn't make out a' furst what it +moight be, thow for sure we got a rare fright. For my part, I thowt it +might a' been ole Black Shuck, thow th' night didn't seem windy enough +for un." + +"Stop a bit," said Colwyn. "What do you mean by Black Shuck? Oh, I +remember. It's a Norfolk tradition or ghost story, isn't it? Black Shuck +is supposed to be a big black dog, with one eye in the middle of the +head, who runs without sound and howls louder than the wind. Whoever +meets him is sure to die before the year is out." + +"That's him," said Mr. Backlos, affirming, with a grave nod of his head, +his own profound belief in the canine apparition in question. "My +grandfeyther seen un once not a hundred yards from the very spot were we +wor standin' last night, and, sure enough, he died afore three months +wor out. Dick and I couldn't tell what it wor we see creepin' out o' th' +shadder o' th' wood, an' to tell yow th' trewth, ma'aster, we didn't +care to look agen. I asked Dick if he didn't think it wor Black Shuck. +'Naw daywt,' says Dick, 'if it ain't somefin' worse.' 'What do'st a' +mean, bor?' says I. 'Well,' says Dick slowly like, 'it might be the +sperrit from th' pit, for 'twas in no mortal man to holler out like that +cry we just heered.' Wornt those yower words, bor?" + +Mr. Duney, thus appealed to, nodded portentously, as though to indicate +that his words were well justified. + +"Never mind the spirit from the pit," said Colwyn. "Go on with your +story." + +"Well, ma'aster, just as we wor walkin' away from th' wood as fast as +ever we could, th' mune come out from behind th' shadder of a cloud, and +threw a light right ower th' wood. We just happened to give a glance +round ahind us at th' time, to see if we wor bein' follered, and, by its +light, we saw a man a creepin' back into th' wood." + +"A man? Are you sure it was a man?" + +"There's no manner o' doubt about that, ma'aster. We both saw it once, +and we didn't wait to look again. We run as hard as we could pelt to +Dick's cottage by the ma'shes, and got inside and stood listenin' to +heer if we were bein' follered. Dick says to me, says 'e, 'S'posen it +wor the chap who murdered owd Mr. Glenthorpe at the _Anchor_?' I thowt +as much meself, but a' tried to laugh it off, and says to Dick, 'What +for should it be him? He's far enough away by this time, for we s'arched +the place round fur miles, and we took in that theer wood where we just +see un.' 'We never s'arched th' wood,' says Dick, 'leastways, not +proper, an' it's a rare hidin' place for un.' 'So it be, to be sure,' +says I. 'If he sees that there light we'll be browt out from heer dead +men,' says Dick. 'So we will, for sartin,' says I. 'Let's put out th' +light, so th' bloody-minded murderer won't ha' narthin' to go by if he +ain't seen it yet.' So we put out th' light and stayed theer till th' +mornin', when we went out to work, and then when I seed Dick later we +thowt we'd come and tell you all about it, seein' as yower a gentleman, +and in consiquence a man of larnin', and might p'rhaps tell us what we'd +better do." + +"You have certainly done the proper thing in disclosing what you have +seen," said the detective, after a thoughtful pause. "But why have you +come to me in the matter? It seems to me that the proper course to +pursue would be to lay your information before Constable Queensmead." + +The two men exchanged a glance of conscious embarrassment. Then Mr. +Backlos, with the air of a man who had made up his mind to take the bull +by the horns, blurted out: + +"It's like this, ma'aster. We be in a bit o' a fix about that. Yow see, +last night we were out arter conies, and thow I can swar we were out in +th' open and not lookin' for conies on annybody's land, cos Dick an' I +have already bin fined ten bob for snarin' conies on Farmer Cranley's +land, an' if we went to Queensmead he moight think we'd been a snarin' +there again. So Dick says to me, says he, 'Why not see the chap wot came +into th' _Anchor_ bar last night? Annybody can see wi' half an eye that +he's a real swell, for didn't he stand treat all round--an' wot he says +we'll go by, and 'e won't treat us dirty, whatever he says, though, mind +ye, bor, there's narthin' to gi' away. So let's go to thissun, an' tell +un all about it.'" + +"I also tol' yow, Billy, that if thar be a reward out for this chap wot +killed Mr. Glenthorpe, thissun 'ud tell us how to get it without sharin' +wi' Queensmead, who does narthin' but take th' bread owt o' ower mouths, +he bein' so sharp about th' conies. For if this chap in th' woods is the +one wot killed owd Mr. Glenthorpe, we have a right to th' money for +cotchin' un. Didn't I say that, Billy?" + +"Yow did, bor, yow did; them wor yower vaery words," acquiesced Mr. +Backlos. + +"I think you had better leave the matter in my hands," said Colwyn, with +difficulty repressing a smile at this exceedingly Norfolk explanation. +"And now, you had better have a drink, for I am sure you must be dry +after all that talk." + +The men, after drinking Colwyn's health in two mugs of ale, departed +with placid countenances, and Colwyn was left to meditate over the news +they had imparted. The result of his meditations was that he presently +went forth in search of Police Constable Queensmead. + +The constable lived in the village street--in a beach-stone cottage which +was in slightly better repair than its neighbours, and much better kept. +There were white curtains in the windows, and in the garden a few late +stocks and hardy climbing roses were making a brave effort to bloom in +depressing surroundings. It was Queensmead who answered the door to the +detective's knock, and he led the way inside to his little office when +he saw who his visitor was. + +"I do not think these chaps saw anything except what their own fears +created," he said, after Colwyn had told him as much of the two men's +story as he saw fit to impart. "I searched the wood thoroughly the day +after the murder. Ronald was not there then." + +"He may have come back since." + +Queensmead's dark eyes lingered thoughtfully on the detective's face, as +though seeking to gather the meaning underlying his words. + +"Why should he do such a foolish thing, sir?" he asked. + +"It is not always easy to account for a man's actions." + +"It is hard to account for a man wanted by the police running his head +into a noose." + +"Ronald may not know he is wanted by the police." + +"Why, of course he must know. If he doesn't----" Queensmead broke off +suddenly and looked at the detective queerly, as if suddenly realising +all that the remark implied. "You must have some strange ideas about +this case," he added slowly. + +"I have, but we won't go into them now," said the detective, with a +slight smile. He appreciated the fact that the other was, to use an +American colloquialism, "quick on the uptake." "Your immediate duty is +clear." + +"You mean I should search the wood again?" said Queensmead, with the +same quick comprehension as before. "Very well. Will you come with me?" + +Colwyn nodded, and Queensmead, without more ado, took a revolver and a +pair of handcuffs from a cupboard, slipped them into his pockets, and +announced that he was ready. He opened the door for his visitor to +precede him, and they set forth. + +The hut circles on the rise looked more desolate than ever in the waning +afternoon light. The excavations commenced by Mr. Glenthorpe had been +abandoned, and a spade left sticking in the upturned earth had rusted in +the damp air. The track of the footprints to the pit in which the body +had been flung still showed distinctly in the clay, and the splash of +blood gleamed dully on the edge of the hole. On the other side of the +pit the trees of the wood stood in stunted outline against a lowering +black sky. + +The two men entered the wood silently. The trees were of great age, the +trunks thick and gnarled, with low twisted boughs, running and +interlacing in every direction. So thickly were they intertwined that it +was twilight in the sombre depths of the wood, although the fierce winds +from the North Sea had already stripped the upper branches of leaves. +The ground was covered with a rank and rotting undergrowth, from which +tiny spirals of vapour, like gnomes' fires, floated upwards. The silence +was absolute; even the birds of the coast seemed to shun the place, +which looked as if it had been untrodden since the days when the beast +men of the Stone Age prowled through its dim recesses to the hut circles +on the rise. + +Colwyn and Queensmead searched the wood and the matted undergrowth as +they progressed, closely scrutinising the ferny hollows, looking up into +the trees, examining the thickets and clumps of shrubs. They had reached +the centre of the wood, and were picking their way through a rank growth +of nettles which covered the decayed bracken, when Colwyn experienced a +mental perception as tangible as a cold hand placed upon the brow of a +sleeper. He had the swift feeling that there was somebody else besides +themselves in the solitude of the wood--somebody who was watching them. +He looked around him intently, and his eyes fell upon a screen of +interlaced branches which grew on the other side of the dip they were +traversing. Without any conscious effort on his own part, his eyes +travelled to the thickest part of the obstruction, and encountered +another pair of eyes gazing at him steadily from the depths of the leafy +screen. That gaze held his own for a moment, and then vanished. He +looked again, but the screen was now unbroken, and not the rustle of a +leaf betrayed the person who was concealed within. + +Colwyn touched Queensmead's arm. + +"There is somebody hiding in those bushes ahead of us," he whispered. + +Queensmead's eyes ran swiftly along the clump of bushes ahead, and he +raised his revolver. + +"Come out, or I'll fire!" he cried. + +His sharp command shattered the heavy silence like the crack of a +firearm. The next moment the figure of a man broke from the twisted +branches and walked down the slope towards them. It was Ronald. + +"Put up your hands, Ronald," commanded Queensmead sternly, poising the +revolver at the advancing man. "Put them up, or I'll fire." + +"Fire if you like." + +The words fell from Ronald's lips wearily, but he did not put up his +hands. His clothes were torn and stained, his face gaunt and lined, and +in his tired eyes was the look of a man who had lived in the solitudes +with no other companion but despair. Queensmead stepped forward and with +a swift gesture snapped the handcuffs on his wrist. + +"I arrest you for the murder of Roger Glenthorpe," he said. + +"I could have got away from you if I had wanted," said the young man +wearily. "But what was the use? I'm glad it is over." + +"I warn you, Ronald, that any statement you now make may be used against +you on your trial," broke in Queensmead harshly. + +"My good fellow, I know all about that." The sudden note of +imperiousness in his manner reminded Colwyn of the way in which he had +snubbed Sir Henry Durwood in his bedroom at the Durrington hotel three +mornings before. But it was in his previous indifferent tone that the +young man added: "Have either of you a spirit flask?" + +Police Constable Queensmead eyed his captive with the critical eye of an +officer of justice upon whom devolved the responsibility of bringing his +man fit and well to trial. Ronald's face had gone haggard and white, and +he lurched a little in his walk. Then he stood still, and regarded the +two men weakly. + +"I'm about done up," he admitted. + +"We'd better take him to the inn and get him some brandy," said +Queensmead. "Take his other arm, will you?" + +They returned slowly with Ronald between them. He did not ask where they +were taking him, but stumbled along on their supporting arms like a man +in a dream, with his eyes fixed on the ground. When clear of the wood, +Queensmead led his prisoner past the pit where Mr. Glenthorpe's body had +been cast, but Ronald did not even glance at the yawning hole alongside +of him. It was when they were descending the slope towards the inn that +Colwyn noticed a change in his indifferent demeanour. He raised his +head and surveyed the inn with sombre eyes, and then his glance +travelled swiftly to his pinioned hands. For a moment his frame +stiffened slightly, as though he were about to resist being taken +farther. But if that were his intention the mood passed. The next moment +he was walking along with his previous indifference. + +When they reached the inn Queensmead asked Colwyn in a whisper to keep +an eye on the prisoner while he went inside and got the brandy. As soon +as he had gone Colwyn turned to Ronald and earnestly said: + +"You may not know me, apart from our chance meeting at Durrington, but I +am anxious to help you, if you are innocent." + +"I have heard of you. You are Colwyn, the private detective." + +"That makes it easier then, for you will know that I have no object in +this case except to bring the truth to light. If you have anything to +say that will help me to do that I beg of you to do so. You may safely +trust me." + +"I know that, Mr. Colwyn, but I have nothing to say." Ronald spoke +wearily--almost indifferently. + +"Nothing?" Astonishment and disappointment were mingled in the +detective's voice. + +"Nothing." + +Before anything more could be said Queensmead reappeared from the inn +with some brandy in a glass. Ronald raised it to his lips with his +manacled hands, then turned away in response to an imperative gesture +from Queensmead. Colwyn stood where he was for a moment, watching them, +then turned to enter the inn. As he did so, his eyes fell upon the white +face of Peggy, framed in the gathering gloom of the passage, staring +with frightened eyes at the retreating forms of the village constable +and his prisoner. She slipped out of the door and took a few hurried +steps in their direction. But when she reached the strip of green which +bordered the side of the inn she stopped with a despairing gesture, as +though realising the futility of her effort, and turned to retrace her +steps. Colwyn advanced rapidly towards her. + +"I want to speak to you," he said curtly. + +She stood still, but there was a prescient flash in her eyes as she +looked at him. + +"You were in the dead man's room last night," he said. "What were you +doing there?" + +"I do not know that it is any business of yours," she replied, in a low +tone. + +"I do not think you had better adopt that attitude," he said quietly. +"You know you had no right to go into that room. I do not wish to +threaten you, but you had better tell me the truth." + +She stood silent for a moment, as though weighing his words. Then she +said: + +"I will tell you why I went there, not because I am afraid of anything +you can do, but because I am not afraid of the truth. I went there +because of a promise I made to Mr. Glenthorpe. He was very kind and good +to me--when he was alive. Only two days before he met his death he asked +me, if anything happened to him at any time, to go to his bedroom and +remove a packet I would find in a little secret drawer in his writing +table, and destroy it without opening it. He showed me where the packet +was, and how to open the drawer. After he was dead I thought of my +promise, and tried several times to slip into the room and get the +packet, but there was always somebody about. So I went in last night, +after everybody was in bed, because I thought the police might find the +packet in searching his desk, and I should have been very unhappy if I +had not been able to keep my promise." + +"How did you get into the room? The door was locked, and Superintendent +Galloway had the key." + +"He left it on the mantelpiece downstairs. I saw it there earlier in the +evening, and when he was out of the room I slipped in and took it, and +put the key of my own room in its place. I replaced it next morning." + +"What did you do with the packet you removed?" + +"I took it across the marshes and threw it into the sea," she replied, +looking steadily into his face. + +"Why did you go to that trouble? Why did you not burn it?" + +"I had no fire, and I dared not keep it till the morning. Besides, there +were rings and things in the packet--his dead wife's jewellery. He told +me so." + +He looked at her keenly. She had told him the truth about her visit to +the breakwater, but how much of the rest of her story was true? + +"So that is your explanation?" he said. + +"Yes." + +"I am sorry to say that I find it difficult to believe. If you are +deceiving me you are very foolish." + +"I have told you the truth, Mr. Colwyn," she said, and, turning away, +returned to the inn. + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +Ronald's strange silence after his arrest decided Colwyn to relinquish +his investigations and return to Durrington. His tacit admissions, +coupled with the damaging evidence against him, enforced conviction in +the young man's guilt in spite of the detective's previous belief to the +contrary. In assisting Queensmead in his search Colwyn had cherished the +hope that Ronald, if captured, would declare his innocence and gladly +respond to his overture of help. But, instead of doing so, Ronald had +taken up an attitude which was suspicious in the highest degree, and one +which caused the detective to falter in his belief that the Glenthorpe +murder case was a much deeper mystery than the police imagined. Ronald's +attitude, by its accordance with the facts previously known or believed +about the case, belittled the detective's own discoveries, and caused +him to come to the conclusion that it was hardly worth while to go +farther into it. + +Nevertheless, it was in a perplexed and puzzled state of mind that he +returned to Durrington, and his perplexity was not lessened by a piece +of information given to him at luncheon by Sir Henry. The specialist +started up from his seat as soon as he saw the detective, and made his +way across to his table. + +"My dear fellow," he burst out, "I have the most amazing piece of news. +Who do you think this chap Ronald turns out to be? None other than James +Ronald Penreath, only son of Sir James Penreath--Penreath of +Twelvetrees--one of the oldest families in England, dating back before +the Conquest! Not very much money, but very good blood--none better in +England, in fact. The family seat is in Berkshire, and the family take +their name from a village near Reading, where a battle was fought in 800 +odd between the Danes and Saxons under Ethelwulf. You won't get a much +older ancestry than _that_. Sir James married the daughter of Sir +William Shirley, the member for Carbury, Cheshire--her family was not so +good as his, but an honourable county family, nevertheless. This young +man is their only child. A nice disgrace he's brought on the family +name, the foolish fellow!" + +"Who told you this?" asked Colwyn. + +"Superintendent Galloway told me last night. The description of the +young man was published in the London press in order to assist his +capture, and it appears it was seen by the young lady to whom he is +affianced, Miss Constance Willoughby, who is at present in London, +engaged in war work. I have never met Miss Willoughby, but her aunt, +Mrs. Hugh Brewer, with whom she is living at Lancaster Gate, is +well-known to me. She is an immensely wealthy woman, who devotes her +life to public works, and moves in the most exclusive philanthropic +circles. The young lady was terribly distressed at the similarity of +details in the description of the wanted man and that of her betrothed, +particularly the scar on the cheek. Although she could not believe they +referred to Mr. Penreath, she deemed it advisable to communicate with +the Penreath family solicitor, Mr. Oakham, of Oakham and Pendules. + +"Mr. Oakham called up Superintendent Galloway on the trunk line +yesterday, to make inquiries, and shortly afterwards the news came +through of Ronald's arrest. Superintendent Galloway was rather perturbed +at learning that the arrested man resembled the description of the heir +of one of the oldest baronetcies in England, and sought me to ask my +advice. As he rather vulgarly put it, he was scared at having flushed +such high game, and he thought, in view of my professional connection +with some of the highest families in the land, that I might be able to +give him information which would save him from the possibility of making +a mistake--if such a possibility existed." + +"Superintendent Galloway did not seem much worried by any such fears the +last time I saw him," said Colwyn. "His one idea then was to catch +Ronald and hang him as speedily as possible." + +"The case wears another aspect now," replied Sir Henry gravely, +oblivious of the irony in the detective's tones. "To arrest a nobody +named Ronald is one thing, but to arrest the son of Penreath of +Twelvetrees is quite a different matter. The police--quite rightly, in +my opinion--wish to guard against the slightest possibility of mistake." + +"There is no certainty that Ronald is the son of Sir James Penreath," +said Colwyn thoughtfully. "Printed descriptions of people are very +misleading." + +"Exactly my contention," replied Sir Henry eagerly. "I told Galloway +that the best way to settle the point was to let the young lady see the +prisoner. The police are acting on the suggestion. Mr. Oakham is coming +down with Miss Willoughby and her aunt from London by the afternoon +train. They will go straight to Heathfield, where they will see Ronald +before his removal to Norwich gaol. Superintendent Galloway is driving +over from here in a taxicab to meet them at the station and escort them +to the lock-up, and I am going with him. It is a frightful ordeal for +two highly-strung ladies to have to undergo, and my professional skill +may be needed to help them through with it. I shall suggest that they +return here with me afterwards, and stay for the night at the hotel, +instead of returning to London immediately. The night's rest will serve +to recuperate their systems after the worry and excitement." + +"No doubt," said Colwyn, who began to see how Sir Henry Durwood had +built up such a flourishing practice as a ladies' specialist. + +Sir Henry, having imparted his information, promised to acquaint him +with the result of the afternoon's interview, and bustled out of the +breakfast room in response to the imperious signalling of his wife's +eye. + +It was after dinner that evening, in the lounge, that Sir Henry again +approached Colwyn, smoking a cigar, which represented the amount of a +medical man's fee in certain London suburbs. But as Sir Henry counted +his fees in guineas, and not in half-crowns, he could afford to be +luxurious in his smoking. He took a seat beside the detective and, +turning upon him his professionally portentous "all is over" face, +remarked: + +"There is no mistake. Ronald is Sir James Penreath's son." + +"Miss Willoughby identified him, then?" + +"It was a case of mutual identification. Mr. Penreath, to give him his +proper name, was brought under escort into the room where we were +seated. He started back at the sight of Miss Willoughby--I suppose he +had no idea whom he was going to see--and said, 'Why, Constance!' The +poor girl looked up at him and exclaimed, 'Oh, James, how could you?' +and burst into a flood of tears. It was a very painful scene." + +"I have no doubt it was--for all concerned," was Colwyn's dry comment. +"Why did Miss Willoughby greet her betrothed husband in that way, as +though she were convinced of his guilt? What does she know about the +case?" + +"Superintendent Galloway prepared her mind for the worst during the ride +from the station to the gaol. She asked him a number of questions, and +he told her that there was no doubt that the man she was going to see +was the man who had murdered Mr. Glenthorpe." + +"I suspected as much. But what else transpired during the interview? How +did Penreath receive Miss Willoughby's remark?" + +"Most peculiarly. He seemed about to speak, then checked himself with a +half smile, looked down on the ground, and said no more. Superintendent +Galloway signed to the policemen to remove him, and we withdrew. The +interview did not last more than a minute or so." + +"Miss Willoughby did not see him alone, then?" + +"No. Galloway told her that she would not be permitted to see him +alone." + +"And nothing more was said on either side while Penreath was in the +room?" + +"Nothing. Penreath's attitude struck me as that of a man who did not +wish to speak. He appeared self-conscious and confused, like a man with +a secret to hide." + +"Perhaps his silence was due to pride. After Miss Willoughby's tactless +remark he may have thought there was no use saying anything when his +sweetheart believed him guilty." Colwyn spoke without conviction; the +memory of Penreath's demeanour to him after his arrest was too fresh in +his mind. + +"You wrong Miss Willoughby. She is only too anxious to catch at any +straw of hope. When she learnt that you had been making some +investigations into the case she expressed an anxiety to see you. She +and her aunt yielded to my advice, and returned here to spend the night +at the hotel before going back to London. As they did not feel inclined +to face the ordeal of public scrutiny after the events of the day they +are dining in private, and they have asked me to take you to their room +when you are at liberty. Mr. Oakham has gone to Norwich, where he will +stay for some days to prepare the defence of this unhappy young man, but +he is coming here in the morning to see the ladies before they depart +for London. He asked me to tell you that he would like to see you also." + +"I shall be glad to see him, and Miss Willoughby as well. Have the +ladies asked you your opinion of the case?" + +"Naturally they did. I gave them the best comfort I could by hinting +that in my opinion Mr. Penreath is not in a state of mind at present in +which he can be held responsible for his actions. I did not say anything +about epilepsy--the word is not a pleasant one to use before ladies." + +"Did you tell them this in front of Galloway?" + +"Certainly not. A professional man in my position cannot be too careful. +I am glad now that I was so circumspect about this matter in my dealings +with the police--very glad indeed. It was my duty to tell Mr. Oakham, +and I did so. He was interested in what I told him--exceedingly so, and +was anxious to know if I had given my opinion of Penreath's condition to +anybody else. I mentioned that I had told you--in confidence." + +"And it was then, no doubt, that Mr. Oakham said he would like to see +me. I fancy I gather his drift. And now shall we visit Miss Willoughby?" + +"Yes, I should say the ladies will be expecting us," said Sir Henry, +looking at a fat watch with jewelled hands which registered golden +minutes for him in Harley Street. He beckoned a waiter, and asked him to +conduct them to Mrs. Brewer's sitting-room. The waiter led them along a +corridor on the first floor, tapped deferentially, opened the door +noiselessly in response to a feminine injunction to "come in," waited +for the gentlemen to enter, and then closed the door behind them. + +Two ladies rose to greet them. One was small and overdressed, with +fluffy hair and China blue eyes. She carried some knitting in her hand, +and a pet dog under her arm. Colwyn had no difficulty in identifying her +with the frequent photographs of Mrs. Brewer which appeared in Society +and illustrated papers. She belonged to a class of women who took +advantage of the war to advertise themselves by philanthropic +benefactions and war work, but she was able to distance most of her +competitors for newspaper notoriety by reason of her wealth. Her niece, +Miss Constance Willoughby, was of a different type. She was tall and +graceful, with dark eyes and level brows. A straight nose and a firm +chin indicated that their possessor was not lacking in a will of her +own. Her manner was self-possessed and assured--a trifle too much so for +a sensitive girl in the circumstances, Colwyn thought. Then he +remembered having read in some paper that Miss Willoughby was one of the +leaders of the new feminist movement which believed that the war had +brought about the complete emancipation of English woman-hood, and with +it the right to possess and display those qualities of character which +hitherto were supposed to be peculiarly masculine. It was perhaps owing +to her advocacy of these claims that Miss Willoughby felt herself called +upon to display self-possession and self-control at a trying time. +Colwyn, appraising her with his clear eye as Sir Henry introduced him, +found himself speculating as to the reasons which had caused Penreath +and her to fall in love with one another. + +"Please sit down, Mr. Colwyn," said Mrs. Brewer, resuming a comfortable +arm-chair in front of the fire, and adjusting the Pekingese on her lap. +"I am so grateful to you for coming to see us in this unconventional +way. I have been so anxious to see you! Everybody has heard of you, Mr. +Colwyn--you're so famous. It was only the other day that I was reading a +long article about you in some paper or other. I forget the name of the +paper, but I remember that it said a lot of flattering things about you +and your discoveries in crime. It said----Oh, you naughty, naughty +Jellicoe." This to the dog, which had become entangled in the skein of +wool on her lap, and was making frantic efforts to free itself. "Bad +little doggie, you've ruined this sock, and some poor soldier will have +to go with bare feet because you've been naughty! Are you a judge of +Pekingese, Mr. Colwyn? Don't you think Jellicoe a dear?" + +"Do you mean Sir John Jellicoe, Mrs. Brewer?" + +"Of course not! I mean my Pekingese. I've named him after our great +gallant commander, because it is through him we are all able to sleep +safe and sound in our beds these dreadful nights." + +"Sir John Jellicoe ought to feel flattered," said Colwyn gravely. + +"Yes, I really think he should," replied Mrs. Brewer innocently. +"Jellicoe is not a pretty name for a dog, but I think we should all be +patriotic just now. But tell me what you think of this dreadful case, +Mr. Colwyn. I am so frightfully distressed about it that I really don't +know what to do. How could Mr. Penreath do such a shocking thing? Why +didn't he go back to the front, if he had to kill somebody, instead of +hiding away from everybody and murdering this poor old man in this wild +spot? Such a disgrace to us all!" + +"Mr. Penreath has been in the Army, then?" asked Colwyn. + +"Of course. Didn't you know? He was in Mesopotamia, but was sent to the +West Front recently, where he won the D.S.O. for an act of great +gallantry under heavy fire, but was shortly afterwards invalided out of +the Army. It was in all the papers at the time." + +"You forget, my dear lady, that Mr. Penreath did not disclose his full +name while he was staying here," interposed Sir Henry solemnly. "I +myself was in complete ignorance of his identity until last night." + +"Why, of course--you told me this afternoon. My poor head! Whatever +induced Mr. Penreath to do such a thing as to conceal his name? So +common and vulgar! What motive could he have? What do you think his +motive was, Mr. Colwyn?" + +"I think, Aunt Florence, as your nerves are bad, that you had better +permit me to talk to Mr. Colwyn," said Miss Willoughby, speaking for the +first time. "Otherwise we shall get into a worse tangle than the +Pekingese." + +"I am sure I shall be only too relieved if you will talk to Mr. Colwyn," +rejoined the elder woman. "My head is really not equal to the task--my +nerves are so frightfully unstrung." + +Mrs. Brewer returned to the task of untangling the dog from the knitting +wool, and the girl faced the detective earnestly. + +"Mr. Colwyn," she said, "I understand you have been investigating this +terrible affair. Will you tell me what you think of it? Do you believe +that Mr. Penreath is guilty? You need not fear to be frank with me." + +"I will not hesitate to be so. I shall be pleased to give you my +conclusions about this case--so far as I have formed any--but I should +be greatly obliged if you would answer a few questions first. That might +help me to clear up one or two points on which I am at present in doubt, +and make my statement to you clearer." + +"Ask me any questions you wish." + +"Thank you. In the first place, how long is it since Mr. Penreath +returned from the front, invalided out of the Army?" + +"About two months ago." + +"Was he wounded?" + +"No. I understand that he broke down through shell-shock, and the +doctors said that it would be some time before he completely recovered. +I do not know the details. Mr. Penreath was very sensitive and reticent +about the matter, and so I forbore questioning him." + +Colwyn nodded sympathetically. + +"I understand. Have you noticed much difference in his demeanour since +he returned from the front?" + +"That question is a little difficult to answer," said the girl, +hesitating. + +"I can quite understand how you feel about it. My motive in asking the +question is to see if we can ascertain why Penreath came to Norfolk +under a concealed name, and then wandered over to this place, Flegne, in +an almost penniless condition, when he had plenty of friends who would +have supplied his needs, and, I should say, had money of his own in the +bank, for it is quite certain that he would be in receipt of an +allowance from his father. He acted most unusually for a young man of +his standing and position, and I am wondering if shell-shock left him in +that restless, unsettled, reckless condition which is one of its worst +effects." + +"I have seen so little of him since he returned from the front that it +is difficult for me to answer you," said the girl, after a pause. "He +went down to Berkshire to his father's place on his return, and stayed +there a month. Then he came to London, and we met several times, but +rarely alone. I am very deeply engaged in war work, and was unable to +give him much of my time. When I did see him he struck me as rather +moody and distrait, but I put that down to his illness, and the fact +that he must naturally feel unhappy at his forced inaction. My friends +paid him much attention and sent him many invitations--in fact, they +would have made quite a fuss of him if he had let them--and, of course, +he had friends of his own, but he didn't seem to want to go anywhere, +and he told me once or twice that he wished people would let him alone. +I pointed out to him that he had his duty to do in Society as well as at +the front, but he said he disliked Society, particularly in war-time. +About three weeks ago he told me one night at a dance that he was sick +of London, and thought he would be better for a change of air. He was +looking rather pale, and I agreed he would be the better for a change. I +asked him where he intended going, and he said he thought he would try +the east coast--he didn't say what part. He left me with the intention +of going away the next day. That was the last I saw of him--until +to-day." + +"You got no letter from him?" + +"I did not hear from him--nor of him--until I saw his description +published in the London newspapers as that of a criminal wanted by the +police." + +Miss Willoughby uttered the last sentence in some bitterness, with a +sparkle of resentment in her eyes. It was apparent that she considered +she had been badly treated by her lover, and that his arrest had +hardened, instead of softening, her feelings of resentment. + +"I am much obliged to you for answering my questions, Miss Willoughby," +said the detective. "As I told you before, they are not dictated by +curiosity, but in the hope of eliciting some information which would +throw light on this puzzling case." + +"A puzzling case! You consider it a puzzling case, Mr. Colwyn?" She +glanced at him with a more eager and girlish expression than he had yet +seen on her face. "I understood from the police officer that there was +no room for doubt in the matter. Sir Henry Durwood shares the police +view." She turned a swift questioning glance in the specialist's +direction. + +Sir Henry caught the glance, and felt it incumbent upon himself to utter +a solemn commonplace. + +"I beg of you not to raise false hopes in Miss Willoughby's breast, Mr. +Colwyn," he said. + +"I have no intention of doing so," returned the detective. "On the other +hand, I protest against everybody condemning Penreath until it is +certain he is guilty. And now, Miss Willoughby, I will tell you what I +have discovered." + +He entered upon a brief account of his investigations at the inn, with +the exception that he omitted the visit of Peggy to the murdered man's +chamber and her subsequent explanation. Miss Willoughby listened +attentively, and, when he had concluded, remarked: + +"Do you think the wax and tallow candle-grease dropped in the room +suggests the presence of two persons?" + +"I feel sure that it does." + +"And who do you think the other was?" + +"It is not yet proved that Penreath was one of them." + +She flushed under the implied reproof, and hurriedly added: + +"Have you acquainted the police with your discoveries, Mr. Colwyn?" + +"I have, and I am bound to say that they attach very little importance +to them." + +"Do you propose to go any further with your investigations?" + +"I would prefer not to answer that question until I have seen Mr. Oakham +to-morrow." + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +When Colwyn went in to lunch the following day after a walk on the +front, he found Sir Henry awaiting him in the lounge with a visitor +whose identity the detective guessed before Sir Henry introduced him. + +"This is Mr. Oakham," said Sir Henry. "I have told him of your +investigation into this painful case which has brought him to Norfolk." + +"An investigation in which you helped," said Colwyn, with a smile. + +"I am afraid it would be stretching the fable of the mouse and the lion +to suggest that I was able to help such a renowned criminal investigator +as yourself," returned Sir Henry waggishly. "When Mr. Oakham learnt that +you had been investigating this case he expressed a strong desire to see +you." + +"I am returning to London by the afternoon express, Mr. Colwyn," said +the solicitor. "I should be glad if you could spare me a little of your +time before I go." + +"Certainly," replied Colwyn, courteously. "It had better be at once, had +it not? You have not very much time at your disposal." + +"If it does not inconvenience you," replied Mr. Oakham politely. "But +your lunch----" + +"That can wait," said the detective. "I feel deeply interested in this +case of young Penreath." + +"Mr. Oakham saw him this morning before coming over," said Sir Henry. +"He is quite mad, and refuses to say anything. Therefore, we have come +to the conclusion----" + +"Really, Sir Henry, you shouldn't have said that." Mr. Oakham's tone was +both shocked and expostulatory. + +"Why not?" retorted Sir Henry innocently. "Mr. Colwyn knows all about +it--I told him myself. I thought you wanted him to help you?" + +"I am aware of that, but, my dear sir, this is an extremely delicate and +difficult business. As Mr. Penreath's professional adviser, I must beg +of you to exercise more reticence." + +"Then I had better go and have my lunch while you two have a chat," said +Sir Henry urbanely, "or I shall only be putting my foot in it again. Mr. +Oakham, I shall see you before you go." Sir Henry moved off in the +direction of the luncheon room. + +"Perhaps you will come to my sitting-room," said Colwyn to Mr. Oakham. +"We can talk quietly there." + +"Thank you," responded Mr. Oakham, and he went with the detective +upstairs. + +Mr. Oakham, of Oakham and Pendules, Temple Gardens, was a little +white-haired man of seventy, attired in the sombre black of the +Victorian era, with a polished reticent manner befitting the senior +partner of a firm of solicitors owning the most aristocratic practice in +England; a firm so eminently respectable that they never rendered a bill +of costs to a client until he was dead, when the amount of legal +expenses incurred during his lifetime was treated as a charge upon the +family estate, and deducted from the moneys accruing to the next heir, +who, in his turn, was allowed to run his allotted course without a bill +from Oakham and Pendules. They were a discreet and dignified firm, as +ancient as some of the names whose family secrets were locked away in +their office deed boxes, and were reputed to know more of the inner +history of the gentry in Burke's Peerage than all the rest of the legal +profession put together. + +The arrest of the only son of Sir James Penreath, of Twelvetrees, Berks, +on a charge of murder, had shocked Mr. Oakham deeply. Divorces had come +his way in plenty, though he remembered the day when they were +considered scandalous in good families. But the modern generation had +changed all that, and Mr. Oakham had since listened to so many stories +of marital wrongs, and had assisted in obtaining so many orders for +restitution of conjugal rights, that he had come to regard divorce as +fashionable enough to be respectable. He was intimately versed in most +human failings and follies, and a past master in preventing their +consequences coming to light. Financial embarrassments he was well used +to--they might almost be said to be his forte--for many of his clients +had more lineage than money, but the crime of murder was a thing outside +his professional experience. + +The upper classes of the present generation had, in this respect at +least, improved on the morals of their freebooting ancestors, and murder +had gone so completely out of fashion among the aristocracy that Mr. +Oakham had never been called upon to prepare the defence of a client +charged with killing a fellow creature. Mr. Oakham regarded murder as an +ungentlemanly crime. He believed that no gentleman would commit murder +unless he were mad. Since his arrival in Norfolk he had come to the +conclusion that young Penreath was not only mad, but that he had +committed the murder with which he stood charged. Sir Henry Durwood had +been responsible for the first opinion, and the police had helped him to +form the second. Two interviews he had had with his client since his +arrest had strengthened and deepened both convictions. + +It was in this frame of mind that Mr. Oakham seated himself in the +detective's sitting room. He accepted a cigar from Colwyn's case, and +looked amiably at his companion, who waited for him to speak. The +interview had been of the solicitor's seeking, and it was for him to +disclose his object in doing so. + +"This is a very unfortunate case, Mr. Colwyn," the solicitor remarked. + +"Yes; it seems so," replied Colwyn. + +"I am afraid there is not the slightest doubt that this unhappy young +man has committed this murder." + +"You have arrived at that conclusion?" + +"It is impossible to arrive at any other conclusion, in view of the +evidence." + +"It is purely circumstantial. I thought that perhaps Penreath would have +some statement to make which would throw a different light on the case." + +"I will be frank with you, Mr. Colwyn," said the solicitor. "You are +acquainted with all the facts of the case, and I hope you will be able +to help us. Penreath's attitude is a very strange one. Apparently he +does not apprehend the grave position in which he stands. I am forced to +the conclusion that he is suffering from an unhappy aberration of the +intellect, which has led to his committing this crime. His conduct since +coming to Norfolk has not been that of a sane man. He has hidden himself +away from his friends, and stayed here under a false name. I understand +that he behaved in an eccentric and violent way in the breakfast room of +this hotel on the morning of the day he left for the place where the +murder was subsequently committed." + +"You have learnt this from Sir Henry, I presume?" + +"Yes. Sir Henry has conveyed to me his opinion, based on his observation +of Mr. Penreath's eccentricity at the breakfast table the last morning +of his stay here, that Mr. Penreath is an epileptic, liable to attacks +of _furor epilepticus_--a phase of the disease which sometimes leads to +outbreaks of terrible violence. He thought it advisable that I should +know this at once, in view of what has happened since. Sir Henry +informed me that he confided a similar opinion to you, as you were +present at the time, and assisted him to convey Penreath upstairs. May I +ask what opinion you formed of his behaviour at the breakfast table, Mr. +Colwyn?" + +"I thought he was excited--nothing more." + +"But the violence, Mr. Colwyn! Sir Henry Durwood says Penreath was about +to commit a violent assault on the people at the next table when he +interfered." + +"The violence was not apparent--to me," returned the detective, who did +not feel called upon to disclose his secret belief that Sir Henry had +acted hastily. "Apart from the excitement he displayed on this +particular morning, Penreath seemed to me a normal and average young +Englishman of his class. I certainly saw no signs of insanity about him. +It occurred to me at the time that his excitement might be the outcome +of shell-shock. We had had an air raid two nights before, and some +shell-shock cases are badly affected by air raids. I have since been +informed that Penreath was invalided out of the Army recently, suffering +from shell-shock." + +"In Sir Henry's opinion the shell-shock has aggravated a tendency to the +disease." + +"Has Penreath ever shown any previous signs of epilepsy?" + +"Not so far as I am aware, but his mother developed the disease in later +years, and ultimately died from it. Her illness was a source of great +worry and anxiety to Sir James. And epilepsy is hereditary." + +"Pathologists differ on that point. I know something of the disease, and +I doubt whether Penreath is an epileptic. He showed none of the symptoms +which I have always associated with epilepsy." + +"An eminent specialist like Sir Henry is hardly likely to be mistaken. +The fact that Penreath seemed a sane and collected individual to your +eye proves nothing. Epileptic attacks are intermittent, and the sufferer +may appear quite sane between the attacks. Epilepsy is a remarkable +disease. A latent tendency to it may exist for years without those +nearest and dearest to the sufferer suspecting it, so Sir Henry says. +Penreath's case is a very strange and sad one." + +"It is a strange case in very way," said Colwyn earnestly. "Why should a +young man like Penreath go over to this remote Norfolk village, where he +had not been before, and murder an old man whom he had never seen +previously? The police theory that this murder was committed for the +sake of L300 which the victim had drawn out of the bank that day seems +incredible to me, in the case of a young man like Penreath." + +"The only way of accounting for the whole unhappy business is on Sir +Henry's hypothesis that Penreath is mad. In acute epileptic mania there +are cases in which there is a seeming calmness of conduct, and these are +the most dangerous of all. The patient walks about like a man in a +dream, impelled by a force which he cannot resist, and does all sorts of +things without conscious purpose. He will take long walks to places he +has never been, will steal money or valuables, and commit murder or +suicide with apparent coolness and cunning. Sir Henry describes this as +automatic action, and he says that it is a notable characteristic of +the form of epileptic mania from which Penreath is suffering. You will +observe that these symptoms fit in with all the facts of the case +against Penreath. The facts, unfortunately, are so clear that there is +no gainsaying them." + +"It seems so now," said Colwyn thoughtfully. "Yet, when I was +investigating the facts at the time, I came across several points which +seemed to suggest the possibility of an alternative theory to the police +theory." + +"I should like to know what those points are." + +"I will tell you." + +The detective proceeded to set forth the result of his visit to the inn, +and the solicitor listened to him with close attention. When he had +finished Mr. Oakham remarked: + +"I am afraid there is not much in these points, Mr. Colwyn. Your +suggestion that there were two persons in the murdered man's room is +interesting, but you have no evidence to support it. The girl's +explanation of her visit to the room is probably the true one. Far be it +from me, as Penreath's legal adviser, to throw away the slightest straw +of hope, but your conjectures--for, to my mind, they are nothing +more--are nothing against the array of facts and suspicious +circumstances which have been collected by the police. And even if the +police case were less strong, there is another grave fact which we +cannot overlook." + +"You mean that Penreath refuses to say anything?" said Colwyn. + +"He appears to be somewhat indifferent to the outcome," returned the +lawyer guardedly. + +"It is his silence which baffles me," said Colwyn. "I saw him alone +after his arrest, and told him I was willing to help him if he could +tell me anything which would assist me to establish his innocence--if +he were innocent. He replied that he had nothing to say." + +"What you tell me deepens my conviction that Penreath does not realise +the position in which he is placed, and cannot be held accountable for +his actions." + +"Is it your intention to plead mental incapacity at the trial?" + +"Sir Henry Durwood has offered to give evidence that, in his opinion, +Penreath is not responsible for his actions. The Penreath family is +under a debt of gratitude to Sir Henry. I consider it little short of +providential that Sir Henry was staying here at the time." Like most +lawyers, Mr. Oakham had a firm belief in the interposition of +Providence--particularly in the affairs of the families of the great. +"And that is the reason for my coming over here to see you this morning, +Mr. Colwyn. You were present at the breakfast table scene--you witnessed +this young man's eccentricity and violence. The Penreath family is +already under a debt of gratitude to you--will you increase the +obligation? In other words, will you give evidence in support of the +defence at the trial?" + +"You want me to assist you in convincing the jury that Penreath is a +criminal lunatic," said Colwyn. "That is what your defence amounts to. +It is a grave responsibility. Doctors and specialists are sometimes +mistaken, you know." + +"I am afraid there is very little doubt in this case. Here is a young +man of birth and breeding, who hides from his friends under an assumed +name, behaves in public in an eccentric manner, is turned out of his +hotel, goes to a remote inn, and disappears before anybody is up. The +body of a gentleman who occupied the room next to him is subsequently +discovered in a pit close by, and the footprints leading to the pit are +those of our young friend. The young man is subsequently arrested close +to the place where the body was thrown, and not then, or since, has he +offered his friends any explanation of his actions. In the +circumstances, therefore, I shall avail myself of Sir Henry's evidence. +In my own mind--from my own observation and conversation with +Penreath--I am convinced that he cannot be held responsible for his +actions. In view of the tremendously strong case against him, in view of +his peculiar attitude to you--and others--in the face of accusation, and +in view of his previous eccentric behaviour, I shall take the only +possible course to save the son of Penreath of Twelvetrees from the +gallows. I had hoped, Mr. Colwyn, that you, who witnessed the scene at +this hotel, and subsequently helped Sir Henry Durwood convey this +unhappy young man upstairs, would see your way clear to support Sir +Henry's expert opinion that this young man is insane. Your reputation +and renown would carry weight with the jury." + +"I am sorry, but I am afraid you must do without me," replied Colwyn. +"In view of Penreath's silence I can come to no other conclusion, though +against my better judgment, than that he is guilty, but I cannot take +upon myself the responsibility of declaring that he is insane. In spite +of Sir Henry Durwood's opinion, I cannot believe that he is, or was. It +will be a difficult defence to establish in the case of Penreath. If you +wish the jury to say that Penreath is the victim of what French writers +call _epilepsie larvee_, in which an outbreak of brutal or homicidal +violence takes the place of an epileptic fit, with a similar break in +the continuity of consciousness, you will first have to convince the +judge that Penreath's preceding fits were so slight as to permit the +possibility of their being overlooked, and you will also have to +establish beyond doubt that the break in his consciousness existed from +the time of the scene in the hotel breakfast-room until the time the +murder was committed. The test of that state is the unintelligent +character of some of the acts of the sufferer. In my opinion, a defence +of insanity is not likely to be successful. Personally, I shall go no +further in the case, but I cannot give up my original opinion that the +whole of the facts in this case have not been brought to light. Probably +they never will be--now." + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +Although no hint of the defence was supposed to transpire, the magic +words "No precedent" were whispered about in legal circles as the day +for Penreath's trial approached, and invested the case with more than +ordinary interest in professional eyes. Editors of London legal journals +endeavoured to extract something definite from Mr. Oakham when he +returned to London to brief counsel and prepare the defence, but the +lunches they lavished on him in pursuit of information might have been +spent with equal profit on the Sphinx. + +The editors had to content themselves with sending shorthand writers to +Norwich to report the case fully for the benefit of their circle of +readers, whose appetite for a legal quibble was never satiated by +repetition. + +On the other hand, the case aroused but languid interest in the breasts +of the ordinary public. The newspapers had not given the story of the +murder much prominence in their columns, because murders were only good +copy in war-time in the slack season between military offensives, and, +moreover, this particular case lacked the essentials of what modern +editors call, in American journalese jargon, "a good feature story." In +other words, it was not sufficiently sensational or immoral to appeal to +the palates of newspaper readers. It lacked the spectacular elements of +a filmed drama; there was no woman in the case or unwritten law. + +It was true that the revelation of the identity of the accused man had +aroused a passing interest in the case, bringing it up from paragraph +value on the back page to a "two-heading item" on the "splash" page, but +that interest soon died away, for, after all, the son of a Berkshire +baronet was small beer in war's levelling days, when peers worked in +overalls in munition factories, and personages of even more exalted rank +sold pennyworths of ham in East-end communal kitchens. + +Nevertheless, because of the perennial interest which attaches to all +murder trials, the Norwich Assizes Court was filled with spectators on +the dull drizzling November day when the case was heard, and the fact +that the accused was young and good-looking and of gentle birth probably +accounted for the sprinkling of well-dressed women amongst the audience. +The younger ones eyed him with sympathy as he was brought into the dock: +his good looks, his blue eyes, his air of breeding, his well-cut +clothes, appealed to their sensibilities, and if they had been given the +opportunity they would have acquitted him without the formality of a +trial as far "too nice a boy" to have committed murder. + +To the array of legal talent assembled together by the golden wand of +Costs the figure of the accused man had no personal significance but the +actual facts at issue entered as little into their minds as into the +pitying hearts of the female spectators. The accused had no individual +existence so far as they were concerned: he was merely a pawn in the +great legal game, of which the lawyers were the players and the judge +the referee, and the side which won the pawn won the game. As this +particular game represented an attack on the sacred tradition of +Precedent, both sides had secured the strongest professional intellects +possible to contest the match, and the lesser legal fry of Norwich had +gathered together to witness the struggle, and pick up what points they +could. + +The leader for the prosecution was Sir Herbert Templewood, K.C., M.P., a +political barrister, with a Society wife, a polished manner, and a +deadly gift of cross-examination. With him was Mr. Grover Braecroft, a +dour Scotch lawyer of fifty-five, who was currently believed to know the +law from A to Z, and really had an intimate acquaintance with those five +letters which made up the magic word Costs. Apart from this valuable +knowledge, he was a cunning and crafty lawyer, picked in the present +case to supply the brains to Sir Herbert Templewood's brilliance, and do +the jackal work which the lion disdained. The pair were supported by a +Crown Solicitor well versed in precedents--a little prim figure of a man +who sat with so many volumes of judicial decisions and reports of test +cases piled in front of him that only the upper portion of his grey head +was visible above the books. + +The defence relied mainly upon Mr. Reginald Middleheath, the eminent +criminal counsel, who depended as much upon his portly imposing stage +presence to bluff juries into an acquittal as upon his legal +attainments, which were also considerable. Mr. Middleheath's cardinal +article of legal faith was that all juries were fools, and should be +treated as such, because if they once got the idea into their heads that +they knew something about the case they were trying they were bound to +convict in order to sustain their reputation for intelligence. One of +Mr. Middleheath's favourite tricks for disabusing a jury of the belief +that they possessed any common sense was, before addressing them, to +stare each juryman in the face for half a minute or so in turn with his +piercing penetrative eyes, accompanying the look with a pitying +contemptuous smile, the gaze and the smile implying that counsel for the +opposite side may have flattered them into believing that their +intelligences were fit to try such an intricate case, but they couldn't +deceive _him_. + +Having robbed the jury of their self-esteem by this means, Mr. +Middleheath would proceed to put them on good terms with themselves +again by insinuating in persuasive tones that the case was one +calculated to perplex the most astute legal brain. He would frankly +confess that it had perplexed him at first, but as he had mastered its +intricacies the jury were welcome to his laboriously acquired knowledge +in order to help them in arriving at a right decision. Mr. Middleheath's +junior was Mr. Garden Greyson, a thin ascetic looking lawyer whose +knowledge of medical jurisprudence had brought him his brief in the +case. Mr. Oakham sat beside Mr. Greyson with various big books in front +of him. + +The judge was Mr. Justice Redington, whose presence on the bench was +always considered a strengthening factor in the Crown case. Judges +differ as much as ordinary human beings, and are as human in their +peculiarities as the juries they direct and the prisoners they try. +There are good-tempered and bad-tempered judges, harsh and tender +judges, learned and foolish judges, there are even judges with an eye to +self-advertisement, and a few wise ones. Mr. Justice Redington belonged +to that class of judges who, while endeavouring to hold the balance +fairly between the Crown and the defence, see to it that the accused +does not get overweight from the scales of justice. Such judges take +advantage of their judicial office by cross-examining witnesses for the +defence after the Crown Prosecutor has finished with them, in the effort +to bring to light some damaging fact or contradiction which the previous +examination has failed to elicit. In other respects, Mr. Justice +Redington was a very fair judge, and he worked as industriously as any +newspaper reporter, taking extensive notes of all his cases with a gold +fountain pen, which he filled himself from one of the court inkstands +whenever it ran dry. In appearance he was a florid and pleasant looking +man, and his hobby off the bench was farming his own land and breeding +prize cattle. + +There were the usual preliminaries, equivalent to the clearing of the +course or the placing of the pieces, which bored the regular habitues of +the court but whetted the appetites of the more unsophisticated +spectators. First there was the lengthy process of empanelling a jury, +with the inevitable accompaniment of challenges and objections, until +the most unintelligent looking dozen of the panel finally found +themselves in the jury box. Then the Clerk of Arraigns gabbled over the +charges: wilful murder of Roger Glenthorpe on 26th October, 1916, and +feloniously stealing from the said Roger Glenthorpe the sum of L300 on +the same date. To these charges the accused man pleaded "Not guilty" in +a low voice. The jury were directed on the first indictment only, and +Sir Herbert Templewood got up to address the jury. + +Sir Herbert knew very little about the case, but his junior was well +informed; and what Mr. Braecroft didn't know he got from the Crown +Solicitor, who sat behind the barristers' table, ready to lean forward +at the slightest indication and supply any points which were required. +Under this system of spoon-feeding Sir Herbert ambled comfortably along, +reserving his showy paces for the cross-examination of witnesses for the +defence. + +Sir Herbert commenced by describing the case as a straightforward one +which would offer no difficulty to an intelligent jury. It was true that +it rested on circumstantial evidence, but that evidence was of the +strongest nature, and pointed so clearly in the one direction, that the +jury could come to no other conclusion than that the prisoner at the bar +had committed the murder with which he stood charged. + +With this preamble, the Crown Prosecutor proceeded to put together the +chain of circumstantial evidence against the accused with the deliberate +logic of the legal brain, piecing together incidents, interpreting +clues, probing motives, and fashioning together the whole tremendous +apparatus of circumstantial evidence with the intent air of a man +building an unbreakable cage for a wild beast. As Colwyn had +anticipated, the incident at the Durrington hotel had been dropped from +the Crown case. That part of the presentment was confined to the +statement that Penreath had registered at the hotel under a wrong name, +and had left without paying his bill. The first fact suggested that the +accused had something to hide, the second established a motive for the +subsequent murder. + +Sir Herbert Templewood concluded his address in less than an hour, and +proceeded to call evidence for the prosecution. There were nine +witnesses: that strangely assorted pair, the innkeeper and Charles, the +deaf waiter, Ann, the servant, the two men who had recovered Mr. +Glenthorpe's body from the pit, the Heathfield doctor, who testified as +to the cause of death, Superintendent Galloway, who gave the court the +result of the joint investigations of the chief constable and himself at +the inn, Police-Constable Queensmead, who described the arrest and +Inspector Fredericks, of Norwich, who was in charge of the Norwich +station when the accused was taken there from Flegne. In order to save +another witness being called, Counsel for the defence admitted that +accused had registered at the Grand Hotel, Durrington, under a wrong +name, and left without paying his bill. + +Mr. Middleheath cross-examined none of the witnesses for the prosecution +except the last one, and his forensic restraint was placed on record by +the depositions clerk in the exact words of the unvarying formula +between bench and bar. "Do you ask anything, Mr. Middleheath?" Mr. +Justice Redington would ask, with punctilious politeness, when the Crown +Prosecutor sat down after examining a witness. To which Mr. Middleheath +would reply, in tones of equal courtesy: "I ask nothing, my lord." +Counsel's cross-examination of Inspector Fredericks consisted of two +questions, intended to throw light on the accused's state of mind after +his arrest. Inspector Fredericks declared that he was, in his opinion, +quite calm and rational. + +Mr. Middleheath's opening address to the jury for the defence was brief, +and, to sharp legal ears, vague and unconvincing. Although he pointed +out that the evidence was purely circumstantial, and that in the absence +of direct testimony the accused was entitled to the benefit of any +reasonable doubt, he did not attempt to controvert the statements of the +Crown witnesses, or suggest that the Crown had not established its case. +His address, combined with the fact that he had not cross-examined any +of the Crown witnesses, suggested to the listening lawyers that he had +either a very strong defence or none at all. The point was left in +suspense for the time being by Mr. Justice Redington suggesting that, in +view of the lateness of the hour, Counsel should defer calling evidence +for the defence until the following day. As a judicial suggestion is a +command, the court was adjourned accordingly, the judge first warning +the jury not to try to come to any conclusion, or form an opinion as to +what their verdict should be, until they had heard the evidence for the +prisoner. + +When the case was continued the next day, the first witness called for +the defence was Dr. Robert Greydon, an elderly country practitioner with +the precise professional manner of a past medical generation, who stated +that he practised at Twelvetrees, Berkshire, and was the family doctor +of the Penreath family. In reply to Mr. Middleheath he stated that he +had frequently attended the late Lady Penreath, the mother of the +accused, for fits or seizures from which she suffered periodically, and +that the London specialist who had been called into consultation on one +occasion had agreed with him that the seizures were epileptic. + +"I want to give every latitude to the defence," said Sir Herbert +Templewood, rising in dignified protest, "but I am afraid I cannot +permit this conversation to go in. My learned friend must call the +London specialist if he wants to get it in." + +"I will waive the point as my learned friend objects," said Mr. +Middleheath, satisfied that he had "got it in" the jury's ears, "and +content myself with asking Dr. Greydon whether, from his own knowledge, +Lady Penreath suffered from epilepsy." + +"Undoubtedly," replied the witness. + +"One moment," said the judge, looking up from his notes. "Where is this +evidence tending, Mr. Middleheath?" + +"My lord," replied Mr. Middleheath solemnly, "I wish the court to know +all the facts on which we rely." + +The judge bowed his head and waved his gold fountain-pen as an +indication that the examination might proceed. The witness said that +Lady Penreath was undoubtedly an epileptic, and suffered from attacks +extending over twenty years, commencing when her only son was five years +old, and continuing till her death ten years ago. For some years the +attacks were slight, without convulsions, but ultimately the grand mal +became well developed, and several attacks in rapid succession +ultimately caused her death. In the witness's opinion epilepsy was an +hereditary disease, frequently transmitted to the offspring, if either +or both parents suffered from it. + +"Have you ever seen any signs of epilepsy in Lady Penreath's son--the +prisoner at the bar?" asked Sir Herbert, who began to divine the +direction of the defence. + +"Never," replied the witness. + +"Was he under your care in his infancy and boyhood? I mean were you +called in to attend to his youthful ailments?" + +"Yes, until he went to school." + +"And was he a normal and healthy boy?" + +"Quite." + +"Did you see him when he returned home recently?" asked Mr. Middleheath, +rising to re-examine. + +"Yes." + +"You are aware he was discharged from the Army suffering from +shell-shock?" + +"Yes." + +"And did you notice a marked change in him?" + +"Very marked indeed. He struck me as odd and forgetful at times, and +sometimes he seemed momentarily to lose touch with his surroundings. He +used to be very bright and good-tempered, but he returned from the war +irritable and moody, and very silent, disliking, above all things, to be +questioned about his experiences at the front. He used to be the very +soul of courtesy, but when he returned from the front he refused to +attend a 'welcome home' at the village church and hear the vicar read a +congratulatory address." + +"I hope you are not going to advance the latter incident as a proof of +_non compos mentis_, Mr. Middleheath," said the judge facetiously. + +In the ripples of mirth which this judicial sally aroused, the little +doctor was permitted to leave the box, and depart for his native +obscurity of Twelvetrees. He had served his purpose, so far as Mr. +Middleheath was concerned, and Sir Herbert Templewood was too good a +sportsman to waste skilful flies on such a small fish, which would do no +honour to his bag if hooked. + +Sir Herbert Templewood and every lawyer in court were by now aware that +the defence were unable to meet the Crown case, but were going to fight +for a verdict of insanity. The legal fraternity realised the +difficulties of that defence in a case of murder. It would be necessary +not only to convince the jury that the accused did not know the +difference between right and wrong, but to convince the judge, in the +finer legal interpretation of criminal insanity, that the accused did +not know the nature of the act he was charged with committing, in the +sense that he was unable to distinguish whether it was right or wrong at +the moment of committing it. The law, which assumes that a man is sane +and responsible for his acts, throws upon the defence the onus of +proving otherwise, and proving it up to the hilt, before it permits an +accused person to escape the responsibility of his acts. Such a defence +usually resolves itself into a battle between medical experts and the +counsel engaged, the Crown endeavouring to upset the medical evidence +for the defence with medical evidence in rebuttal. + +The lawyers in court settled back with a new enjoyment at the prospect +of the legal and medical hair-splitting and quibbling which invariably +accompanies an encounter of this kind, and Crown Counsel and solicitors +displayed sudden activity. Sir Herbert Templewood and Mr. Braecroft held +a whispered consultation, and then Mr. Braecroft passed a note to the +Crown Solicitor, who hurried from the court and presently returned +carrying a formidable pile of dusty volumes, which he placed in front of +junior counsel. The most uninterested person in court seemed the man in +the dock, who sat looking into a vacancy with a bored expression on his +handsome face, as if he were indifferent to the fight on which his +existence depended. + +The next witness was Miss Constance Willoughby, who gave her testimony +in low clear tones, and with perfect self-possession. It was observed by +the feminine element in court that she did not look at her lover in the +dock, but kept her eyes steadily fixed on Mr. Middleheath. Her story was +a straightforward and simple one. She had become engaged to Mr. Penreath +shortly before the war, and had seen him several times since he was +invalided out of the Army. The last occasion was a month ago, when he +called at her aunt's house at Lancaster Gate. She had noticed a great +change in him since his return from the front. He was moody and +depressed. She did not question him about his illness, as she thought he +was out of spirits because he had been invalided out of the Army, and +did not want to talk about it. He told her he intended to go away for a +change until he got right again--he had not made up his mind where, but +he thought somewhere on the East Coast, where it was cool and bracing, +would suit him best--and he would write to her as soon as he got +settled anywhere. She did not see him again, and did not hear from him +or know anything of his movements till she read his description in a +London paper as that of a man wanted by the Norfolk police for murder. +Her aunt, who showed her the paper, communicated with the Penreaths' +solicitor, Mr. Oakham. The following day she and her aunt were taken to +Heathfield and identified the accused. + +"Your aunt took action to allay your anxiety, I understand?" said Mr. +Heathfield, whose watchful eye had noted the unfavourable effect of this +statement on the jury. + +The witness bowed. + +"Yes," she replied. "I was terribly anxious, as I had not heard from Mr. +Penreath since he went away. Anything was better than the suspense." + +"You say accused was moody and depressed when you saw him?" asked Sir +Herbert Templewood. + +"Yes." + +"May I take it that there was nothing terrifying in his +behaviour--nothing to indicate that he was not in his right mind?" + +"No," replied the witness slowly. "He did not frighten me, but I was +concerned about him. He certainly looked ill, and I thought he seemed a +little strange." + +"As though he had something on his mind?" suggested Sir Herbert. + +"Yes," assented the witness. + +"Were you aware that the accused, when he went to see you at your aunt's +home before he departed for Norfolk, was very short of money?" + +"I was not. If I had known----" + +"You would have helped him--is that what you were going to say?" asked +Mr. Middleheath, as Sir Herbert resumed his seat without pursuing the +point. + +"My aunt would have helped Mr. Penreath if she had known he was in +monetary difficulties." + +"Thank you." Mr. Middleheath sat down, pulling his gown over his +shoulders. + +The witness was leaving the stand when the sharp authoritative voice of +the judge stopped her. + +"Wait a minute, please, I want to get this a little clearer. You said +you were aware that the accused was discharged from the Army suffering +from shell-shock. Did he tell you so himself?" + +"No, my lord. I was informed so." + +"Really, Mr. Middleheath----" + +The judge's glance at Counsel for the Defence was so judicial that it +brought Mr. Middleheath hurriedly to his feet again. + +"My lord," he explained, "I intend to prove in due course that the +prisoner was invalided out of the Army suffering from shell-shock." + +"Very well." The judge motioned to the witness that she was at liberty +to leave the box. + +The appearance of Sir Henry Durwood in the box as the next witness +indicated to Crown Counsel that the principal card for the defence was +about to be played. Lawyers conduct defences as some people play +bridge--they keep the biggest trump to the last. Sir Henry represented +the highest trump in Mr. Middleheath's hand, and if he could not score +with him the game was lost. + +Sir Henry seemed not unconscious of his importance to the case as he +stepped into the stand and bowed to the judge with bland professional +equality. His evidence-in-chief was short, but to the point, and +amounted to a recapitulation of the statement he had made to Colwyn in +Penreath's bedroom on the morning of the episode in the breakfast-room +of the Grand Hotel, Durrington. Sir Henry related the events of that +morning for the benefit of the jury, and in sonorous tones expressed his +professional opinion that the accused's strange behaviour on that +occasion was the result of an attack of epilepsy--petit mal, combined +with _furor epilepticus_. + +The witness defined epilepsy as a disease of the nervous system, marked +by attacks of unconsciousness, with or without convulsions. The loss of +consciousness with severe convulsive seizures was known as grand mal, +the transient loss of consciousness without convulsive seizures was +called petit mal. Attacks of petit mal might come on at any time, and +were usually accompanied by a feeling of faintness and vertigo. The +general symptoms were sudden jerkings of the limbs, sudden tremors, +giddiness and unconsciousness. The eyes became fixed, the face slightly +pale, sometimes very red, and there was frequently some almost automatic +action. In grand mal there was always warning of an attack, in petit mal +there was no warning as a rule, but sometimes there was premonitory +giddiness and restlessness. _Furor epilepticus_ was a medical term +applied to the violence displayed during attacks of petit mal, a +violence which was much greater than extreme anger, and under its +influence the subject was capable of committing the most violent +outrages, even murder, without being conscious of the act. + +"There is no doubt in your mind that the accused man had an attack of +petit mal in the breakfast-room of the Durrington hotel the morning +before the murder?" asked Mr. Middleheath. + +"None whatever. All the symptoms pointed to it. He was sitting at the +breakfast table when he suddenly ceased eating, and his eyes grew +fixed. The knife which he held in his hand was dropped, but as the +attack increased he picked it up again and thrust it into the table in +front of him--a purely automatic action, in my opinion. When he sprang +up from the table a little while afterwards he was under the influence +of the epileptic fury, and would have made a violent attack on the +people sitting at the next table if I had not seized him. +Unconsciousness then supervened, and, with the aid of another of the +hotel guests, I carried him to his room. It was there I noticed foam on +his lips. When he returned to consciousness he had no recollection of +what had occurred, which is consistent with an epileptic seizure. I saw +that his condition was dangerous, and urged him to send for his friends, +but he refused to do so." + +"It would have been better if he had followed your advice. You say it is +consistent with epilepsy for him to have no recollection of what +occurred during this seizure in the hotel breakfast room. What would a +man's condition of mind be if, during an attack of petit mal, he +committed an act of violence, say murder, for example?" + +"The mind is generally a complete blank. Sometimes there is a confused +sense of something, but the patient has no recollection of what has +occurred, in my experience." + +"In this case the prisoner is charged with murder. Could he have +committed this offence during another attack of _furor epilepticus_ and +recollect nothing about it afterwards? Is that consistent?" + +"Yes, quite consistent," replied the witness. + +"Is epilepsy an hereditary disease?" + +"Yes." + +"And if both parents, or one of them, suffered from epilepsy, would +there be a great risk of the children suffering from it?" + +"Every risk in the case of both persons being affected; some probability +in the case of one." + +"What do you think would be the effect of shell-shock on a person born +of one epileptic parent?" + +"It would probably aggravate a tendency to epilepsy, by lowering the +general health." + +"Thank you, Sir Henry." + +Mr. Middleheath resumed his seat, and Sir Herbert Templewood got up to +cross-examine. + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +Sir Herbert Templewood did not believe the evidence of the specialist, +and he did not think the witness believed it himself. Sir Herbert did +not think any the worse of the witness on that account. It was one of +the recognised rules of the game to allow witnesses to stretch a point +or two in favour of the defence where the social honour of highly +respectable families was involved. + +Sir Herbert saw in the present defence the fact that the hand of his +venerable friend, Mr. Oakham, had not lost its cunning. Mr. Oakham was a +very respectable solicitor, acting for a very respectable client, and he +had called a very respectable Harley Street specialist--who, by a most +fortuitous circumstance, had been staying at the same hotel as the +accused shortly before the murder was committed--to convince the jury +that the young man was insane, and that his form of insanity was +epilepsy, a disease which had prolonged lucid intervals. + +A truly ingenious and eminently respectable defence, and one which, in +his heart of hearts, perhaps, Sir Herbert might not have been sorry to +see succeed, for he knew Sir James Penreath of Twelvetrees, and was +sorry to see his son in such a position. But he had his duty to perform, +and that duty was to discredit in the eyes of the jury the evidence of +the witness in the box, because juries were prone to look upon +specialists as men to whom all things had been revealed, and return a +verdict accordingly. + +Sir Herbert made one mistake in his analysis of the defence. Sir Henry, +at least, believed in his own evidence and took himself very seriously +as a specialist. Like most stupid men who have got somewhere in +life, Sir Henry became self-assertive under the least semblance +of contradiction, and he grew violent and red-faced under +cross-examination. He would not hear of the possibility of a mistake in +his diagnosis of the accused's symptoms, but insisted that the accused, +when he saw him at the Durrington hotel, was suffering from an epileptic +seizure, combined with _furor epilepticus_, and was in a state of mind +which made him a menace to his fellow creatures. It was true he +qualified his statements with the words "so far as my observation goes," +but the qualification was given in a manner which suggested to the jury +that five minutes of Sir Henry Durwood's observation were worth a +month's of a dozen ordinary medical men. + +Sir Henry's vehement insistence on his infallibility struck Sir Herbert +as a flagrant violation of the rules of the game. He did not accept the +protestations as genuine; he thought Sir Henry was overdoing his part, +and playing to the gallery. He grew nettled in his turn, and, with a +sudden access of vigour in his tone, said: + +"You told my learned friend that it is quite consistent with the +prisoner's malady that he could have committed the crime with which he +stands charged, and remember nothing about it afterwards. Is that a +fact?" + +"Certainly." + +"In that case, will you kindly explain how the prisoner came to leave +the inn hurriedly, before anybody was up, the morning after the murder +was committed? Why should he run away if he had no recollection of his +act?" + +"I must object to my learned friend describing the accused's departure +from the inn as 'running away,'" said Mr. Middleheath, with a bland +smile of protest. "It is highly improper, as nobody knows better than +the Crown Prosecutor, and calculated to convey an altogether erroneous +impression on the minds of the jury. There is not the slightest evidence +to support such a statement. The evidence is that he saw the servant and +paid his bill before departure. That is not running away." + +"Very well, I will say hastened away," replied Sir Herbert impatiently. +"Why should the accused hasten away from the inn if he retained no +recollection of the events of the night?" + +"He may have had a hazy recollection," replied Sir Henry. "Not of the +act itself, but of strange events happening to him in the +night--something like a bad dream, but more vivid. He may have found +something unusual--such as wet clothes or muddy boots--for which he +could not account. Then he would begin to wonder, and then perhaps there +would come a hazy recollection of some trivial detail. Then, as he came +to himself, he would begin to grow alarmed, and his impulse, as his +normal mind returned to him, would be to leave the place where he was as +soon as he could. This restlessness is a characteristic of epilepsy. In +my opinion, it was this vague alarm, on finding himself in a position +for which he could not account, which was the cause of the accused +leaving the Durrington hotel. His last recollection, as he told me at +the time, was entering the breakfast-room; he came to his senses in his +bedroom, with strangers in the room." + +"Does not recollection return completely in attacks of petit mal?" + +"Sometimes it does; sometimes not. I remember a case in my student days +where an epileptic violently assaulted a man in the street--almost +murdered him in fact--then assaulted a man who tried to detain him, ran +away, and remembered nothing about it afterwards." + +"Is it consistent with petit mal, combined with _furor epilepticus_, for +a man to commit murder, conceal the body of his victim, and remember +nothing about it afterwards?" + +"Quite consistent, though the probability is, as I said before, for him +to have some hazy recollection when he came to his senses, which would +lead to his leaving that place as quickly as he could." + +"Would it be consistent with petit mal for a man to take a weapon away +beforehand, and then, during a sudden fit of petit mal, use it upon the +unfortunate victim?" + +"If he took the weapon for another purpose, it is quite possible that he +might use it afterwards." + +"I should like to have that a little clearer," said the judge, +interposing. "Do you mean to get the weapon for another, possibly quite +innocent purpose, and then use it for an act of violence?" + +"Yes, my lord," replied Sir Henry. "That is quite consistent with an +attack of petit mal." + +"When a man has periodical attacks of petit mal, would it not be +possible, by observation of him between the attacks, or when he was +suffering from the attacks, to tell whether he had a tendency to them?" + +"No, only in a very few and exceptional cases." + +"In your opinion epilepsy is an hereditary disease?" + +"Undoubtedly." + +"Are you aware that certain eminent French specialists, including Marie, +are of the opinion that hereditary influences play a very small part in +epilepsy?" + +"That may be." Sir Henry dismissed the views of the French specialists +with a condescending wave of his fat white hand. + +"That does not alter your own opinion?" + +"Certainly not." + +"And do you say that because this man's mother suffered from epilepsy +the chances are that he is suffering from it?" + +"Pardon me, I said nothing of the kind. I think the chances are that he +would have a highly organised nervous system, and would probably suffer +from some nervous disease. In the case of the prisoner, I should say +that shell-shock increased his predisposition to epilepsy." + +"Do you suggest that shell-shock leads to epilepsy?" + +"In general, no; in this particular case, possibly. A man may have +shell-shock, and injury to the brain, which is not necessarily +epileptic." + +"It is possible for shell-shock alone to lead to a subsequent attack of +insanity?" asked the judge. + +"It is possible--certainly." + +"How often do these attacks of petit mal occur?" asked Sir Herbert. + +"They vary considerably according to the patient--sometimes once a week, +sometimes monthly, and there have been cases in which the attacks are +separated by months." + +"Are not two attacks in twenty-four hours unprecedented?" + +"Unusual, but not unprecedented. The excitement of going from one place +to another, and walking miles to get there, would be a predisposing +factor. Prisoner would have been suffering from the effects of the first +attack when he left the Durrington hotel, and the excitement of the +change and the fatigue of walking all day would have been very +prejudicial to him, and account for the second and more violent attack." + +"How long do the after effects last--of an attack of petit mal, I mean." + +"It depends on the violence of the attack. Sometimes as long as five or +six hours. The recovery is generally attended with general lassitude." + +"There is no evidence to show that the prisoner displayed any symptoms +of epilepsy before the attack which you witnessed at the Durrington +hotel. Is it not unusual for a person to reach the age of twenty-eight +or thereabouts without showing any previous signs of a disease like +epilepsy?" + +"There must be a first attack--that goes without saying," interposed the +judge testily. + +That concluded the cross-examination. Mr. Middleheath, in +re-examination, asked Sir Henry whether foam at the lips was a +distinguishing mark of epilepsy. + +"It generally indicates an epileptic tendency," replied Sir Henry +Durwood. + +At the conclusion of Sir Henry Durwood's evidence Mr. Middleheath called +an official from the War Office to prove formally that Lieutenant James +Penreath had been discharged from His Majesty's forces suffering from +shell-shock. + +"I understand that, prior to the illness which terminated his military +career, Lieutenant Penreath had won a reputation as an exceedingly +gallant soldier, and had been awarded the D.S.O," said Mr. Middleheath. + +"That is so," replied the witness. + +"Is that the case?" asked the judge. + +"That, my lord, is the case," replied Mr. Middleheath. + +Sir Herbert Templewood, on behalf of the Crown, proceeded to call +rebutting medical evidence to support the Crown contention that the +accused was sane and aware of the nature of his acts. The first witness +was Dr. Henry Manton, of Heathfield, who said he saw the accused when he +was brought into the station from Flegne by Police Constable Queensmead. +He seemed perfectly rational, though disinclined to talk. + +"Did you find any symptom upon him which pointed to his having recently +suffered from epilepsy of any kind?" asked Sir Herbert. + +"No." + +"Do you agree with Sir Henry Durwood that between attacks of epilepsy +the patient would exhibit no signs of the disease?" asked Mr. +Middleheath. + +"What do you mean by between the attacks?" + +"I mean when he had completely recovered from one fit and before the +next came on," explained counsel. + +"I quite agree with that," replied the witness. + +"How long does it usually take for a man to recover from an attack of +epilepsy?" + +"It depends on the severity of the attack." + +"Well, take an attack serious enough to cause a man to commit murder." + +"It may take hours--five or six hours. He would certainly be drowsy and +heavy for three or four hours afterwards." + +"But not longer--he would not show symptoms for thirty-six hours?" + +"Certainly not." + +"Then, may I take it from you, doctor, that after the five or six hours +recovery after a bad attack an epileptic might show no signs of the +disease--not even to medical eyes--till the next attack?" + +"I should say so," replied the witness. "But I am not an authority on +mental diseases." + +"Thank you." + +The next witness was Dr. Gilbert Horbury, who described himself as +medical officer of His Majesty's prison, Norwich, and formerly medical +officer of the London detention prison. In reply to Sir Herbert +Templewood, he said he had had much experience in cases of insanity and +alleged insanity. He had had the accused in the present case under +observation since the time he had been brought to the gaol. He was very +taciturn, but he was quiet and gentlemanly in his behaviour. His +temperature and pulse were normal, but he slept badly, and twice he +complained of pains in the head. Witness attributed the pains in the +head to the effect of shell-shock. He had seen no signs which suggested, +to his mind, that prisoner was an epileptic. In reply to a direct +question by Sir Herbert Templewood, he expressed his deliberate +professional opinion that the accused was not suffering from epilepsy in +any form. Epilepsy did not start off with a bad attack ending in +violence--or murder. There were premonitory symptoms and slight attacks +extending over a considerable period, which must have manifested +themselves, particularly in the case of a man who had been through an +arduous military campaign. His illness might have had a bad effect on +the brain, but if it had led to mental disease he would have expected it +to show itself before. + +From this point of view the witness, a dour, grey figure of a man, +refused to be driven by cross-examination. His many professional years +within the sordid atmosphere of gaol walls had taught him that most +criminals were malingerers by instinct, and that pretended insanity was +the commonest form of their imposition to evade the consequence of +their misdeeds. The number of false cases which had passed through his +hands had led him to the very human conclusion that all such defences +were merely efforts to defraud the law, and, as a zealous officer of the +law, he took a righteous satisfaction in discomfiting them, particularly +when--as in the present instance--the defence was used to shield an +accused of some social standing. For Dr. Horbury's political tendencies +were levelling and iconoclastic, and he had a deep contempt for caste, +titles, and monarchs. + +He was too sophisticated as a witness to walk into Mr. Middleheath's +trap and contradict Sir Henry's evidence directly, but he contrived to +convey the impression that his own observation of accused, covering a +period of nine days, was a better guide for the jury in arriving at a +conclusion as to the accused's state of mind than Sir Henry's opinion, +formed after a single and limited opportunity of diagnosing the case. He +also managed to infer, in a gentlemanly professional way, that Sir Henry +Durwood was deservedly eminent in the medical world as a nerve +specialist, rather than as a mental specialist, whereas witness's own +experience in mental cases had been very wide. He talked learnedly of +the difficulty of diagnosing epilepsy except after prolonged +observation, and cited lengthily from big books, which a court constable +brought into court one by one, on symptoms, reflex causes, auras, grand +mal, petit mal, Jacksonian epilepsy, and the like. + +The only admission of any value that Mr. Middleheath could extract from +Dr. Horbury was a statement that while he had seen no symptoms in the +prisoner to suggest that he was an epileptic, epileptics did not, as a +rule, show symptoms of the disease between the attack. + +"Therefore, assuming the fact that Penreath is subject to epilepsy, you +would not necessarily expect to find any symptoms of the disease during +the time he was awaiting trial?" asked Mr. Middleheath, eagerly +following up the opening. + +"Possibly nothing that one could swear to," rejoined the witness, in an +exceedingly dry tone. + +Mr. Middleheath essayed no more questions, but got the witness out of +the box as quickly as possible, trusting to his own address to remove +the effect of the evidence on the mind of the jury. At the outset of +that address he pointed out that the case for the Crown rested upon +purely circumstantial evidence, and that nobody had seen the prisoner +commit the murder with which he was charged. The main portion of his +remarks was directed to convincing the jury that the prisoner was the +unhappy victim of epileptic attacks, in which he was not responsible for +his actions. He scouted the theory of motive, as put forward by the +Crown. It was not fair to suggest that the Treasury note which the +accused paid to the servant at the inn was necessarily part of the dead +man's money which had disappeared on the night of the murder and had not +since been recovered. The fact that the accused had been turned out of +the Grand Hotel, for not paying his hotel bill, was put forward by the +Crown to show that he was in a penniless condition, but that assumption +went too far. It might well be that a man in the accused's social +standing would have a pound or two in his pocket, although he might not +be able to meet an hotel bill of L30. + +"Can you conceive this young man, this gallant soldier, this heir to an +old and honourable name, with everything in life to look forward to, +committing an atrocious murder for L300?" continued Mr. Middleheath. +"The traditions of his name and race, his upbringing, his recent gallant +career as a soldier, alike forbid the sordid possibility. Moreover, he +had no need to commit a crime to obtain money. His father, his friends, +or the woman who was to be his wife, would have instantly supplied him +with the money he needed, if they had known he was in want. To a young +man in his station of life L300 is a comparatively small sum. Is it +likely that he would have committed murder to obtain it?" + +"On the other hand, the prisoner's actions, since returning to England, +strongly suggest that his mind has been giving way for some time past. +He was invalided from the Army suffering from shell-shock, with the +result that his constitution became weakened, and the fatal taint of +inherited epilepsy, which was in his blood, began to manifest itself. +His family doctor and his fiancee have told you that his behaviour was +strange before he left for Norfolk; since coming to Norfolk it has been +unmistakably that of a man who is no longer sane. Was it the conduct of +a sane man to conceal his whereabouts from his friends, and stay at an +hotel without money till he was turned out, when he might have had +plenty of money, or at all events saved himself the humiliation of being +turned out of the hotel, at the cost of a telegram? And why did he +subsequently go miles across country to a remote and wretched inn, where +he had never been before, and beg for a bed for the night? Were these +the acts of a sane man?" + +In his peroration Mr. Middleheath laid particular emphasis on the +evidence of Sir Henry Durwood, whose name was known throughout England +as one of the most eminent specialists of his day. Sir Henry Durwood, +Mr. Middleheath pointed out, had seen the prisoner in a fit at the +Durrington hotel, and he emphatically declared that the accused was an +epileptic, with homicidal tendencies. Such an opinion, coming from such +a quarter, was, to Mr. Middleheath's mind, incontrovertible proof of +the prisoner's insanity, and he did not see how the jury could go behind +it in coming to a decision. + +Sir Herbert Templewood's address consisted of a dry marshalling of the +facts for and against the theory of insanity. Sir Herbert contended that +the defence had failed to establish their contention that the accused +man was not in his right mind. He impressed upon the jury the decided +opinion of Dr. Horbury, who, as doctor of the metropolitan receiving +gaol, had probably a wider experience of epilepsy and insanity than any +specialist in the world. Dr. Horbury, after nine days close observation +of the accused, had come to the conclusion that he was perfectly sane +and responsible for his actions. + +The general opinion among the bunch of legal wigs which gathered +together at the barristers' table as Sir Herbert Templewood resumed his +seat was that the issue had been very closely fought on both sides, and +that the verdict would depend largely upon the way the judge summed up. + +His lordship commenced his summing up by informing the jury that in the +first place they must be satisfied that the prisoner was the person who +killed Mr. Glenthorpe. He did not think they would have much difficulty +on that head, because, although the evidence was purely circumstantial, +it pointed strongly to the accused, and the defence had not seriously +contested the charge. Therefore, if they were satisfied that the accused +did, in fact, cause the death of Mr. Glenthorpe, the only question that +remained for them to decide was the state of the prisoner's mind at the +time. If they were satisfied that he was not insane at the time, they +must find him guilty of murder. If, however, they came to the conclusion +that he was insane at the time he committed the act, they would return +a verdict that he was guilty of the act charged against him, but that he +was insane at the time. + +His lordship painstakingly defined the difference between sanity and +insanity in the eyes of the law, but though his precise and legal +definition called forth appreciative glances from the lawyers below him, +it is doubtful whether the jury were much wiser for the explanation. +After reviewing the evidence for the prosecution at considerable length, +his lordship then proceeded, with judicial impartiality, to state the +case for the defence. The case for the prisoner, he said, was that he +had been strange or eccentric ever since he returned from the front +suffering from shell-shock, that his eccentricity deepened into +homicidal insanity, and that he committed the act of which he stood +charged while suffering under an attack of epilepsy, which produced a +state of mind that led the sufferer to commit an act of violence without +understanding what he was doing. In view of the nature of this defence +the jury were bound to look into the prisoner's family and hereditary +history, and into his own acts before the murder, before coming to a +conclusion as to his state of mind. + +The defence, he thought, had proved sufficient to enable the jury to +draw the conclusion that Lady Penreath, the mother of the prisoner, was +an epileptic. The assertion that the prisoner was an epileptic rested +upon the evidence of Sir Henry Durwood, for the evidence of Miss +Willoughby and the family doctor went no further than to suggest a +slight strangeness or departure from the prisoner's usual demeanour. Sir +Henry Durwood, by reason of his professional standing, was entitled to +be received with respect, but he had himself admitted that he had had no +previous opportunity of diagnosing the case of accused, and that it was +difficult to form an exact opinion in a disease like epilepsy. Dr. +Horbury, on the other hand, had declared that the prisoner showed +nothing symptomatic of epilepsy while awaiting remand. In Dr. Horbury's +opinion, he was not an epileptic. Therefore the case resolved itself +into a direct conflict of medical testimony, and it was for the jury to +decide, and form a conclusion as to the man's state of mind in +conjunction with the other evidence. + +"The contention for the defence," continued his lordship, leaning +forward and punctuating his words with sharp taps of his fountain pen on +the desk in front of him, "is this: 'Look at this case fairly and +clearly, and you are bound to come to the conclusion that this man is +not in a sound frame of mind.' The prosecution, on the other hand, say, +'The facts of this case do not point to insanity at all, but to +deliberate murder for gain.' The defence urge further, 'You have got to +look at the probabilities. No man in prisoner's position, a gentleman by +birth and upbringing, the heir of an old and proud name, with a hitherto +unblemished reputation, and the prospects of a long and not +inconspicuous career in front of him, would in his senses have murdered +this old man.' That is a matter for you to consider, because we do know +that brutal crimes are committed by the most unlikely persons. But the +prosecution also allege motive, and you must consider the question of +motive. It is suggested, and it is for you to consider whether rightly +or wrongly suggested, that there was a motive in killing this man, +because the prisoner was absolutely penniless and wanted to get money." + +"Gentlemen, you will first apply your minds to considering all the +evidence, and you will next consider whether you are satisfied that the +prisoner knew the difference between right and wrong so far as the act +with which he is charged is concerned. You must decide whether he knew +the nature and quality of the act, and whether he knew the difference +between that act being right, and that act being wrong. I have already +pointed out to you that the law presumes him to be of sane mind, and +able to distinguish between right and wrong, and it is for him to +satisfy you, if he is to escape responsibility for this act, that he +could not tell whether it was right or wrong. If you are satisfied of +that, you ought to say that he is guilty of the act alleged, but insane +at the time it was committed. If you are not satisfied on that point, +then it is your duty to find him guilty of murder. Gentlemen, you will +kindly retire and consider your verdict." + +The jury retired, and there ensued a period of tension, which the +lawyers employed in discussing the technicalities of the case and the +probabilities of an acquittal. Mr. Oakham thought an acquittal was a +certainty, but Mr. Middleheath, with a deeper knowledge of the ways of +provincial juries, declared that the defence would have stood a better +chance of success before a London jury, because Londoners had more +imagination than other Englishmen. + +"You never can tell how a d----d muddle-headed country jury will decide +a highly technical case like this," said the K.C. peevishly. "I've lost +stronger cases than this before a Norfolk jury. Norfolk men are +clannish, and Horbury's evidence carried weight. He is a Norfolk man, +though he has been in London. One never knows, of course. If the jury +remain out over an hour I think we will pull it off." + +But the jury returned into court after an absence of forty minutes. The +judge, who was waiting in his private room, was informed, and he entered +the court and resumed his seat. The jury answered to their names, and +then the Clerk of Arraigns, in a sing-song voice, said: + +"Gentlemen, have you agreed upon your verdict? Do you find the prisoner +guilty or not guilty of wilful murder?" + +"Guilty!" answered the foreman, in a loud, clear voice. + +"You say that he is guilty of murder, and that is the verdict of you +all?" + +"That is the verdict of us all," was the response. + +"James Ronald Penreath," continued the clerk, turning to the accused +man, and speaking in the same sing-song tones of one who repeated a +formula by rote, "you stand convicted of the crime of wilful murder. +Have you anything to say for yourself why the Court should not give you +judgment of death according to law?" + +The man in the dock, who had turned very pale, merely shook his head. + +The judge, with expressionless face and in an expressionless voice, +pronounced sentence of death. + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +Colwyn returned to Durrington in a perplexed and dissatisfied frame of +mind. The trial, which he had attended and followed closely, had failed +to convince him that all the facts concerning the death of Roger +Glenthorpe had been brought to light. Really, the trial had not been a +trial at all, but merely a battle of lawyers about the state of +Penreath's mind. + +If Penreath was really sane--and Colwyn, who had watched him closely +during the trial, believed that he was--the Crown theory of the murder +by no means accounted for all the amazing facts of the case. + +Should he have done more? Colwyn asked himself this question again and +again. But that query always led to another one--_Could_ he have done +more? In his mental probings the detective could rarely get away from +the point--and when he did get away from it he always returned to +it--that Penreath, by his dogged silence, had been largely responsible +for his own conviction. If a man, charged with murder, refused to +account for actions which pointed to him as the murderer, how could +anybody help him? Silence, in certain circumstances, was the strongest +presumptive proof of guilt. A man was the best judge of his own actions +and, if he refused to speak when his own life might pay the forfeit for +silence, he must have the strongest possible reason for holding his +tongue. What other reason could Penreath have except the consciousness +of guilt, and the hope of escaping the consequences through a loop-hole +of the law? + +Colwyn, however, was unable to accept this line of argument as +conclusive, so he tried to put the case out of his mind. But the +unsolved points of the mystery--the points that he himself had +discovered during his visit to the inn--kept returning to his mind at +all sorts of odd times, in the night, and during his walks. And each +recurrence was accompanied by the consciousness that he had not done his +best in the case, but had allowed the silence of the accused man to +influence his judgment and slacken his efforts to unravel the clues he +had originally discovered. Thus he travelled back to his starting-point, +that the conviction of Penreath had not solved the mystery of the murder +of Roger Glenthorpe. + +The hotel and its guests bored him. The season was over, and the few +people who remained were elderly and commonplace, prone to overeating, +and to falling asleep round the lounge fire after dinner. The only +topics of conversation were the weather, the war, and food. Sometimes +the elderly clergyman, who still lingered, though the other golfers had +gone, sought to turn the conversation to golf, but nobody listened to +him except his wife, who sat opposite to him in the warmest part of the +lounge placidly knitting socks for the War Comforts Fund. The Flegne +murder and its result were not discussed; by tacit mutual understanding +the guests never referred to the unpleasant fact that they had lived for +some weeks under the same roof with a man who had since been declared a +murderer by the laws of his country. + +Colwyn decided to return to London, although the month he had allowed +himself for a holiday was not completed. He was restless and uneasy and +bored, and he thought that immersion in work would help him to forget +the Glenthorpe case. He came to this decision at breakfast one morning. +Within an hour he had paid his bill, received the polite regrets of the +proprietor at his departure, and was motoring leisurely southward along +the cliff road towards its junction with the main London road. + +Important consequences frequently spring from trifling incidents. +Colwyn, turning his car to the side of the road to avoid a flock of +sheep, punctured a tyre on a sharp jagged piece of rock concealed in the +loose sand at the side of the road. He had not a spare tyre on the car, +and the shepherd informed him that the nearest town where he could hope +to get the tyre replaced was Faircroft, but even that was doubtful, +because Faircroft was a small town without a garage, and the one +tradesman who did motor-car repairs was, just as likely as not, without +the right kind of tyres, or equally likely to have none at all. As he +had left Durrington barely three miles behind Colwyn decided to return +there, to have the car repaired, and defer his departure till the +following day. + +He reached Durrington with a deflated tyre, took the car to the garage, +and then went back to the hotel. It wanted nearly an hour to lunch-time, +and on his way in he paused at the office window to inform the clerk +that he had returned, and would stay till the following day. The +proprietor was in the office, checking some figures. The latter looked +up as Colwyn informed the lady clerk of his altered plans, and informed +him that a young lady had been at the hotel inquiring for him shortly +after his departure. + +"What was her name?" asked the detective, in some surprise. + +"She didn't give her name. She seemed very disappointed when she learnt +that you had departed for London, and went away at once." + +"What was she like?" + +The proprietor and the lady clerk described her at the same time. In the +former's eyes the visitor had appeared pretty and young with golden hair +and a very clear complexion. The lady clerk, without the least departure +from the standard of courtesy imposed upon her by her position, managed +to indicate that the impression made upon her feminine mind was that of +a white-faced girl with red hair. From both descriptions Colwyn had no +difficulty in identifying the visitor as Peggy. + +Why had she come to Durrington to see him? Obviously the visit was +connected with the murder at the inn. Colwyn recalled his last +conversation with her on the marshes the day after he had seen her come +out of the dead man's room. + +He hurried out in the hope of finding her. She had probably come by +train from Leyland, and would go back the same way. Colwyn looked at his +watch. It was a quarter past twelve, and there was no train back to +Leyland till half-past one--so much Colwyn remembered from his study of +the local time-table. Therefore, unless she had walked back to Flegne +she should not be difficult to find--probably she was somewhere on the +cliffs, or near the sea. Somehow, Peggy seemed to belong to the sea and +Nature. It was difficult to picture her in a conventional setting. + +It was by the sea that he found her, sitting in one of the shelters on +the parade, with her hands clasped in her lap, looking listlessly at a +fisher-boat putting out from the yellow sands below. She glanced round +at the sound of his footsteps, and, seeing who it was, came out from the +shelter and advanced to meet him. + +"They told me at the hotel somebody had been asking for me, and I +guessed it was you. You wanted to see me?" + +"Yes." She did not express any surprise at his return, as another girl +would, but stood with her hands still clasped in front of her, and a +look of entreaty in her eyes. Colwyn noticed that her face had grown +thinner, and that in the depths of her glance there lurked a troubled +shadow. + +"Shall we walk a little and you can tell me what you wish to say?" + +"It is very kind of you." + +He turned away from the front and towards the cliffs, judging that the +girl would feel more disposed to talk freely away from human habitation +and people. They went on for some distance in silence, the girl walking +with a light quick step, looking straight in front of her, as though +immersed in thought. + +They reached a part of the cliffs where a low wall divided the foreland +from an old churchyard which was fast crumbling into the sea. Peggy +paused with her hand on the wall, and looked seaward. The sun, piercing +a rift in the dark clouds, lighted the sullen grey waters with patches +of gold. Colwyn, in the hope of inducing his companion to talk, pointed +out the beautiful effect of the light and shadow on the sea. + +"I hate the sea! I have never looked at it since the war started without +seeing the many, many dead sailor boys at the bottom, staring up with +their dead eyes through the weight of waters for a God of Justice in the +heavens, and looking in vain." She turned her eyes from the sea, and +looked at him passionately. "You do not care about the sea, either. You +are only trying to put me at my ease--to help me say what I want to +say. It is kind of you, but it is not necessary. I feel I can trust +you--I must trust you. I am only a girl and there is nobody else in the +world I dare trust. It is about--_him_. Have you seen him? Have you +spoken to him? Did he speak about me?" + +"I saw him only at the trial," replied Colwyn, with his ready +comprehension. "I had no opportunity of speaking to him alone." + +"I read about the trial in the paper," she went on. "They said that he +was mad in order to try and save him, but he is not mad--he was too good +and kind to be mad. Oh, why did he kill Mr. Glenthorpe? Will they kill +him for that? You are clever, can you not save him? I have come to beg +you to save him. Ever since they took him away I have seen his eyes +wherever I go, looking at me reproachfully, as though calling upon me to +save him. Last night, while I was in my grandmother's room, I thought I +saw him standing there, and heard his voice, just as he used to speak. +And in the night I woke up and thought I heard him whisper, 'Peggy, it +is better to tell the truth.' This morning I could endure it no longer, +and I came across to find you." + +"You have known him before, then?" + +"Yes." The girl met Colwyn's grave glance with clear, unafraid eyes. "I +did not tell you before, not because I was afraid to trust you, for I +liked you from the first, but I was afraid that if I told you all you +would think him guilty, and not try to help him. And when you spoke to +me on the marshes that day you believed he might be innocent." + +"How do you know that?" + +"I heard you say so to that police officer--Superintendent +Galloway--after dinner the first night you were at Flegne. I was passing +the bar parlour when you and he were talking about the murder, and I +heard you say that you thought somebody else might have done it. The day +after, when you saw me on the marshes, I was frightened to tell you the +truth, because I thought if you knew it you might go away and not try to +save him." + +"You had better tell the whole truth to me now. Nothing you can now say +will make it worse for Penreath, and it may be possible to help him. +When did you first meet him?" + +"Nearly three weeks before--it happened. I used to go out for long +walks, when I could get away from grandmother, and this day I walked +nearly as far as Leyland. He came walking along the sands a little while +afterwards, and he looked at me as he passed. Presently he came back +again, and stopped to ask me if there was a shorter way back to +Durrington than by the coast road. I told him I didn't know, and he +stopped to talk to me for a while. He told me he was in Norfolk for a +holiday, and was spending the time in country rambles. + +"I will tell you the whole truth. I returned to the headland next day in +the hope that I might see him again. After I had been there a little +while I saw him walking along the sands. He waved his hand when he saw +me, as though we had been old friends, and that afternoon we stayed +talking much longer. + +"I saw him nearly every afternoon after that--whenever I could get away +I walked down to the headland, and he was always there. The spot where +we used to meet was hidden from the road by some fir-trees, and I do not +think we were ever seen by anybody. He told me all about himself, but I +did not tell him anything about myself or my home. I knew he was a +gentleman, and I thought if I told him that my father kept an inn he +might not want to see me any more, and I could not bear that. I told +him my Christian name, and he liked it, and used to call me by it, but I +would not tell him my other name. + +"The night that he came to the inn I met him in the afternoon at the +headland as usual, and we stayed talking until it was time for me to go +home. He was very troubled that day, and it grieved me to see him +looking so white and ill. When I questioned him he told me that he had +been slightly ill that morning, and that he was very much worried about +money matters. I felt very unhappy to think that he was troubled about +money, and when he saw that he said he was sorry he had told me. + +"When I left him it was later than usual. I was supposed to look after +my grandmother every afternoon, and when I went to the headland I +usually got Ann to sit in her room until I returned. I was always +careful to get back before my father came in from fishing on the +marshes. He would have been very angry if he had returned and found me +absent, and I should not have been able to get out again. It was nearly +four that afternoon when I left the headland, and I walked very quick so +as to be back in time. It was getting on towards dusk when I reached +home. + +"I went straight up to my grandmother's room, so that Ann could go down +and get dinner for Mr. Glenthorpe, who usually came in about dark. I sat +with grandmother till past six o'clock, and then, as Ann hadn't brought +grandmother's tea, I went down to the kitchen to get it myself. Ann was +very busy getting dinner, and she told me a young gentleman had arrived +at the inn half an hour before, and he was going to dine upstairs with +Mr. Glenthorpe, and stay for the night. I was surprised, for we rarely +had visitors at the inn. I asked Ann some questions about him, but she +could tell me very little. Charles, the waiter, came into the kitchen to +get the things ready to take upstairs, and he told me that the visitor +was young, good-looking, and seemed a gentleman. + +"I got grandmother's tea ready, and was carrying it along the passage +from the kitchen when I fancied I heard Mr. Penreath's voice in the bar +parlour. I thought at first that I must be mistaken; then the door of +the parlour opened, and Mr. Glenthorpe and Mr. Penreath came out. I was +so surprised and frightened that I almost dropped the tray I was +carrying. If they had looked down the side passage they would have seen +me. But he and Mr. Glenthorpe turned the other way, and went upstairs. +Then Charles came along carrying a dinner tray, and went upstairs also. +I knew then that Mr. Penreath was the gentleman who was going to dine +with Mr. Glenthorpe, and stay the night. + +"I did not know what to do. I took grandmother's tea upstairs, and crept +past the room where they were having dinner, because I did not want him +to see me till I had made up my mind what to do. The door was shut, and +they couldn't see me, though I could hear them talking inside. When I +got to my grandmother's room I tried to think what was best to do. My +first thought was that he had found out who I was. Then it seemed to me +that he might have come by accident, in some way that I didn't +understand, because why should he dine with Mr. Glenthorpe, and stay +with him, if he had come to see me? Then I wondered if it were possible +that he knew Mr. Glenthorpe, who was a gentleman like himself, and had +come to ask him to help him. I had never told him anything about Mr. +Glenthorpe or myself. + +"I determined to try and see him that night to let him know that the inn +was my home. If he had come to the inn by accident it was better that he +should not meet me in front of my father, because in his surprise he +might say that he had met me before. My father would have been very +angry if he knew I had been meeting a stranger. So I went along the +passage several times in the hope of seeing him as he came from dinner. +But once my father was going into the room where they were having +dinner, and he nearly saw me, so I dared not go again. + +"A little after ten o'clock my grandmother began to get restless, as she +always does when a storm is coming on, and I had to stay with her to +keep her quiet. I can do more with her than anybody else when she is +like that, and it is not safe to leave her. Sometimes my father goes and +sits with her a while before he goes to bed, but this night he did not. +She got very bad as the storm came on, and while it lasted I sat +alongside of her holding her hand and soothing her. After about half an +hour the rain ceased as suddenly as it had commenced, and grandmother +fell asleep. I knew she was all right until the morning, so I left her +for the night. + +"As I turned to go to my room, I thought I saw a light in the other +passage, and I went down to see what it was. I thought perhaps Mr. +Penreath might be waiting up reading before going to bed. + +"I crept along to the bend of the passage, and looked down it, thinking +perhaps I might see him and speak to him. There was nobody in the +passage, but the door of Mr. Glenthorpe's room was half open and a light +was streaming through it. + +"I do not know really what took me to Mr. Glenthorpe's room. I have +tried to think it out clearly since, but I cannot. I know I was +distressed and troubled about Mr. Penreath's presence at the inn, and I +was afraid he would be cross and angry with me for not having told him +the truth about myself. And before that, when I was walking home after +meeting him that afternoon, I had been unhappy about his wanting money, +and wished that I could do something to help him. These thoughts kept +going through my head as I sat with grandmother during the storm. + +"When I saw the door of Mr. Glenthorpe's room open, and the light +burning, all these thoughts seemed to come back into my head together. I +remembered how good and kind Mr. Glenthorpe had always been to me. I had +heard my father tell Charles that morning that Mr. Glenthorpe had gone +to the bank at Heathfield that day to draw out a large sum of money to +buy Mr. Cranley's field. + +"I think I had a confused idea that I would go and confide in Mr. +Glenthorpe, and ask him to help Mr. Penreath. Perhaps I have not made +myself very clear about this, but I do not remember very clearly myself, +for I acted on a sudden impulse, and ran along the passage quickly, in +case he should shut his door before I got there, because I knew if he +did that I should not have the courage to knock. Through the half-open +door I could see the inside of the room between the door and the window. +It seemed to me to be empty. I gave a little tap at the door, but there +was no reply. It was then I noticed that the bedroom window was wide +open, and that a current of air was blowing into the room and causing +the light behind the door to cast flickering shadows across the room. + +"That struck me as strange. I knew Mr. Glenthorpe always used a reading +lamp, and never a candle, and I knew that the reading lamp wouldn't +cast shadows because of the lamp glass. I do not know what I feared, but +I know a dreadful shiver of fear crept over me, and that some force +stronger than myself seemed to compel me to step inside the room in +spite of my fears." + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + + +"He was lying on the bed, quite dead. There was blood on his breast, and +his hands were held out, as though he had tried to push off the man who +had killed him. On the table, by the head of the bed, was a lighted +candle, and it was the light of the candle which had cast the flickering +shadows I had seen before entering the room. On the bed, near the +pillow, was a match-box, and I remember picking it up and placing it in +the candlestick--mechanically, for I am sure I did not know what I was +doing, and I did not recall the act till afterwards. I have a clearer +recollection of touching something with my foot, and stooping to pick it +up. It was a knife--a white handled knife, with blood on the blade. And +as I stood there, with it in my hand, there came to my mind, clear and +distinct, the memory of having seen that knife on the dinner tray +Charles had carried past me upstairs, as I stood in the passage near the +kitchen, where I first discovered that Mr. Penreath was in the house. + +"I do not know how long I stood there, with the knife in my hand, +looking at the body--perhaps it was not more than a moment. There seemed +to be two individualities in me, one urging me to fly, the other keeping +me rooted to the spot, petrified. + +"Then I heard a sound downstairs. A wild panic came over me, and my head +grew dizzy. The shadows in the corners of the room seemed full of +mocking eyes, and I thought I heard stealthy steps creeping up the +stairs. I dared not stay where I was, but I was too afraid to go out +into the passage in the dark. Then my eyes fell on the candle, and I +picked it up and was going to rush from the room, when I remembered that +I had the knife in my hand. + +"I did not know what to do with it. I wanted to shield him, but some +feeling within me would not let me carry it away. I looked round the +room for somewhere to hide it, and my eye fell on a picture against the +wall, close to the door. Quick as thought I put the knife behind the +picture as I ran from the room. + +"There was nobody in the passage, and I gained my own room and locked +the door. I think I must have fainted, or become unconscious, for I +remember nothing more after throwing myself on my bed, and when I came +to my senses the dawn was creeping in through my bedroom window. I was +very cold, and dazed. I crept into bed without taking off my clothes, +and fell asleep. When I awoke it was broad daylight, and as I lay in bed +I heard the kitchen clock chime seven. + +"I got up, and went into grandmother's room. A little while afterwards +Ann came up with some tea, and she told me that Mr. Penreath had gone +away early, without having any breakfast. She told me that she had found +Mr. Glenthorpe's room empty, with the key in the outside of the door. +She was afraid something had happened to him, so she had sent for +Constable Queensmead. I did not tell her what I had seen in the night. I +wanted to be alone, to think. I could not understand how Mr. +Glenthorpe's body had disappeared from his room. I think I hoped that I +would presently wake up and find that what I had seen during the night +was some terrible dream. But Ann came up a little later and told me that +Mr. Glenthorpe's body had been discovered in the pit on the rise, and +that Mr. Ronald, as she called Mr. Penreath, was suspected of having +murdered him. + +"When she told me that I felt as though my blood turned to ice. I knew +it was true--I knew that he had killed Mr. Glenthorpe because he wanted +money--but I knew that in spite of all I wanted to shield and help him. +I kept in my grandmother's room all day, determined to keep silence, and +tell nobody about what I had seen during the night. The one thing that +worried me was the knife which I had put behind the picture on the wall. +I tried once to go into the room and get it, but the door was locked, +and I dared not ask for the key. + +"Then in the afternoon the police came from Durrington. I did not know +who you were when you came with them into my grandmother's room, but as +soon as I saw you I was afraid, though I tried hard not to let you see +it. I knew you were cleverer than the others. But your eyes seemed to go +right into mine, and search my soul. I asked my father afterwards who +you were, and he said your name was Mr. Colwyn, and that you were a +London detective. I had read about you; I knew that you were famous and +clever, and after seeing you I felt that you would be sure to discover +my secret, and put Mr. Penreath in prison. + +"That night when I was downstairs, I heard you and the police officer +talking in the room where you had dined, and I listened at the door. +When I heard you say that you were not certain who committed the murder, +I was very much surprised, because up till then I felt quite certain +that you would think Mr. Penreath was guilty. I believed if you found +the knife you would alter your opinion, Ann having told me that the +police knew that Mr. Glenthorpe had been murdered with a knife which Mr. +Penreath had used at dinner. The idea came into my head that if I could +get the knife before you found it, you might go on thinking that +somebody else had committed the crime, and perhaps persuade the police +to think so as well. + +"I made up my mind I would go into the room that night and get the +knife. I knew that the door was locked, and that the police officer had +placed the key on the mantelpiece in the bar parlour. During the evening +I kept downstairs at the back of the passage waiting for an opportunity +to get it. You both stayed there so long that I did not think I should +get the chance. + +"After you went upstairs to bed Mr. Galloway called Charles to get him +some brandy. Charles came out from his room to get it. Mr. Galloway +followed him into the bar. While he was there I slipped into the room +and got the key, and left the key of my own room in its place. I did not +think the police officer would notice the difference, but it was a risk +I had to take. Then I ran up to my room. + +"Although I had got the key I was for some time afraid to use it. I +could not bear the thought of going into that room, and to get there I +had to go past your door; I did not like that. + +"Then I crept out along the passage as quietly as I could, carrying my +shoes, for I had made up my mind that after I got the knife I would take +it across the marshes to the breakwater and throw it into the sea. That +was the one place where I felt sure you would not find it. I carried a +candle in my hand, but I dared not light it until I got past your door, +in case you were awake and saw the light. When I reached Mr. +Glenthorpe's room I lit the candle and unlocked the door, turning the +key as gently as I could. But it made a noise, and, as I stood +listening, I thought I heard a movement in your room. I blew out the +candle, stepped inside the room, took the key out, and locked the door +on the inside. + +"I do not know how long I stood there listening in the dark, but I know +that I was not as frightened as I had expected to be--at first. I kept +telling myself that Mr. Glenthorpe had always been kind to me while he +was alive, and that he would not harm me now that he was dead. I did not +look towards the bed, but kept close to the door, straining my ears to +catch any sound in the passage outside. But after a while I began to get +frightened in that dark room with the door locked, and dreadful thoughts +came into my mind. I remembered a story I had read about a man who was +locked up all night in a room with a dead body, and was found mad in the +morning, and the position of the corpse had changed. It seemed to me as +though Mr. Glenthorpe was sitting up in bed looking at me, but I dared +not turn round to see. I knew that I must get out of the room or scream. +I lit the candle, felt for the knife behind the picture, and opened the +door. As soon as the candle was alight I felt braver, and I looked out +of the door before going into the passage. I could see nothing--all +seemed quiet--so I came out of the room and locked the door behind me +and went downstairs. + +"Once I was outside the house and could see the friendly stars all my +fears vanished. I know the marshes so well that I can find my way across +them at any time. And in my heart I had the feeling that I had been +brave and helped him. When I had thrown the knife into the sea from the +breakwater I felt almost lighthearted, and when I reached my room again +I fell asleep as soon as I got into bed. + +"Until you spoke to me the next day I had no idea that you had seen and +followed me. But I knew it the moment you stopped me and said you +wanted to speak to me. Then I realised you had watched me, and the story +I told you to account for my visit to the room came into my head. I did +not know whether you believed me or not, but I did not care much, +because I knew you could not have seen what I threw into the sea. That +secret was safe as long as I kept silence; and you couldn't make me +speak against my will." + +Peggy, as she concluded, glanced up wistfully to see how her companion +received her story, but she could learn nothing from the detective's +inscrutable face. Colwyn, on his part, was thinking rapidly. He believed +that the innkeeper's daughter, yielding to the strain of a secret too +heavy to be borne alone, had this time told him the truth, but, as he +ran over the main points of her narrative in his mind, he could not see +that it shed any additional light on the murder. The only new fact that +she had revealed was that she and Penreath had been acquainted before. +She had also, perhaps unconsciously, given away the fact that she and +Penreath were in love with each other; at all events, her story proved +that she was so deeply in love with Penreath that she had displayed +unusual force of character in her efforts to shield him. But that +knowledge did not carry them any further towards a solution of the +mystery. It was with but a faint hope of eliciting anything of real +value that he turned to her and said: + +"There is one point of your story on which I am not quite clear. You +said that in the morning, when you heard of the recovery of Mr. +Glenthorpe's body from the pit, you knew that Mr. Penreath was the +murderer. Why were you so sure of that? Was is because you picked up the +knife with which the murder was committed? The knife was a clue--the +police theory of course is that Penreath secreted the knife at the +dinner table for the purpose of committing the murder--but, by itself, +it was hardly a convincing clue. Was there something else that made you +feel sure he was guilty of this crime?" + +"Yes, there was something else," she repeated slowly. + +"I thought as much. And that something else was the match-box--is that +not so?" + +"Yes, it was the match-box," she repeated again, this time almost in a +whisper. + +"What was there about the match-box that made you feel so certain?" + +"Must I tell you that?" she said, looking at him helplessly. + +"Of course you must tell me." Colwyn's face was stern. "As I told you +before, nothing you can do or say can hurt him now, and the only hope of +helping him is by telling the whole truth." + +"It was his match-box. It had his monogram on it." + +"You have brought it with you?" + +For answer she took something from the bosom of her dress and laid it, +with a heart-broken look, in Colwyn's hand. The article was a small +match-box, with a regimental badge in enamel on one side, and on the +other some initials in monogram. Colwyn examined it closely. + +"I see the initials are J.R.P.," he said. "How did you know they were +his initials? You knew his name?" + +"Yes. He used to light cigarettes with matches from that match-box when +I was with him, and one day I asked him to show it to me. He did so, and +I asked him what the initials were for, and he told me they stood for +his own name--James Ronald Penreath. And then he told me much about +himself and his family, and--and he said he cared for me, but he was not +free." + +She gave out the last few words in a low tone, and stood looking at him +like a girl who had exposed the most sacred secret of her heart in +order to help her lover. But Colwyn was not looking at her. He had +opened the match-box, and was shaking out the few matches which remained +in the interior. They fell, half a dozen of them, into the palm of his +hand. They were wax matches, with blue heads. A sudden light leapt into +the detective's eyes as he saw them--a look so strange and angry that +the girl, who was watching him, recoiled a little. + +"What is it? What have you found?" she cried. + +"It is a pity you did not tell me the truth in the first instance +instead of deceiving me," he retorted harshly. "Listen to me. Does any +one at the inn know of your visit to me to-day? I do not suppose they +do, but I want to make sure." + +"Nobody. I told them I was going to Leyland to see the dressmaker." + +"So much the better." Colwyn looked at his watch. "You have just time to +catch the half-past one train back. You had better go at once. I will go +to the inn some time this evening, but you must not let any one know +that I am coming, or that you have seen me to-day. Do you understand? +Can I depend on you?" + +"Yes," she replied. "I will do anything you tell me. But, oh, do tell me +before I go whether you are going to save him." + +"I cannot say that," he replied, in a gentler voice. "But I am going to +try to help him. Go at once, or you will not catch the train." + + + +CHAPTER XIX + + +Colwyn formed his plans on his way back to the hotel. He stopped at the +office as he went in to lunch, and informed the lady clerk that he had +changed his mind about leaving, and would keep on his room, but expected +to be away in the country for two or three days. The lady clerk, who had +mischievous eyes and wore her hair fluffed, asked the detective if he +had been successful in finding the young lady who had called to see him. +On Colwyn gravely informing her that he had, she smiled. It was obvious +that she scented a romance in the guest's changed plans. + +As the detective wished to attract as little attention as possible in +the renewed investigations he was about to make, he decided not to take +his car to Flegne. After lunch he packed a few necessaries in a handbag, +and caught the afternoon train to Heathfield. Arriving at that wayside +station, he asked the elderly functionary who acted as station-master, +porter and station cleaner the nearest way across country to Flegne, +and, receiving the most explicit instructions in a thick Norfolk +dialect, set out with his handbag. + +The road journey to Flegne was five miles. By the footpath across the +fields it was something less than four, and Colwyn, walking briskly, +reached the rise above the marshes in a little less than an hour. The +village on the edge of the marshes looked grey and cheerless and +deserted in the dull afternoon light, and the sighing wind brought from +the North Sea the bitter foretaste of winter. The inn was cut off from +the village by a new accession of marsh water which had thrust a slimy +tongue across the road, forming a pool in which frogs were vociferously +astir. + +As Colwyn descended the rise the front door of the inn opened, and the +gaunt figure of the innkeeper emerged, carrying some fishing lines in +his hands. He paused beneath the inn signboard, the rusty swinging +anchor, and looked up at the sky, which was lowering and black. As he +did so, he turned, and saw Colwyn. He waited for him to approach, and +left it to the visitor to speak first. He showed no surprise at Colwyn's +appearance, but his bird-like face did not readily lend itself to the +expression of human emotions. It would have been almost as easy for a +toucan to display joy, grief, or surprise. + +"Good afternoon, Benson," said the detective cheerfully. "Going to be +rather wet for a fishing excursion, isn't it?" + +"That's just what I can't make up my mind, sir," replied the other. +"Clouds like these do not always mean rain in this part of the world. +The clouds seem to gather over the marshes more, and sometimes they hang +like this for days without rain. But I do not think I'll go fishing +to-night. The rain in these parts goes through you in no time, and +there's no shelter on the marshes." + +"In that case you'll be able to attend to me." + +"I'd do that in any case, sir," replied the other quickly. + +"I think of spending a few days here before returning to London. I am +interested in archaeological research, and this part of the Norfolk coast +is exceedingly rich in archaeological and prehistoric remains, as, of +course, you are well aware." + +"Yes, sir. Many scientific gentlemen used to visit the place at one +time. We had one who stayed at the inn for a short time last year--Dr. +Gardiner, perhaps you have heard of him. He was very interested in the +hut circles on the rise, and when he went back to London he wrote a book +about them. Then there was poor Mr. Glenthorpe. He was never tired of +talking of the ancient things which were under the earth hereabouts." + +"Quite so. I should like to make a few investigations on my own account. +That is why I have come over this afternoon. I have left my car and my +luggage at Durrington, where I have been staying, thinking you might +find it easier to put me up without them. I presume you can accommodate +me, Benson?" + +"Well, sir, you know the place is rough and I haven't much to offer you. +But if you do not mind that----" + +"Not in the least. You need not go to any trouble on my account." + +"Then, sir, I shall be pleased to do what I can to make you comfortable. +Will you step inside? This way, sir--I must ask Ann about your room +before I can take you upstairs." + +The innkeeper opened the door of the bar parlour, and asked Colwyn to +excuse him while he consulted the servant. He returned in a few minutes +with Ann lumbering in his wake. The stout countrywoman bobbed at the +sight of the detective, and proceeded to explain in apologetic tones, +with sundry catches of the breath and jelly-like movements of her fat +frame, that she was sorry being caught unawares, and not expecting +visitors, but the fact was that Mr. Colwyn couldn't have the room he +slept in before, because she had given it a good turn out that day, and +everything was upside down, to say nothing of it being as damp as damp +could be. There was only poor Mr. Glenthorpe's room--of course, that +wouldn't do--and the room next, which the poor young gentleman had +slept in. Would Mr. Colwyn mind having that room? If he didn't mind, she +could make it quite comfortable, and would have clean sheets aired in +front of the kitchen fire in no time. + +Colwyn felt that he had reason to congratulate himself that he had been +asked to occupy the very room which he desired to examine closely. The +lucky accident of turning out the other room would save him a midnight +prowl from the one room to the other, with the possible risk of +detection. He told Ann that the room Mr. Penreath had slept in would do +very well, and assured her that she was not to bother on his account. +But Ann was determined to worry, and her mind was no sooner relieved +about the bedroom than she propounded the problem of dinner. She had +been taken unawares in that direction also. There was nothing in the +house but a little cold mutton, and some hare soup left over from the +previous day. If she warmed up a plateful of soup--it was lovely soup, +and had set into a perfect jelly--and made rissoles of the mutton, and +sent them to table with some vegetables, with a pudding to follow; would +_that_ do? Colwyn replied smilingly that would do excellently, and Ann +withdrew, promising to serve the meal within an hour. + +Colwyn passed that time in the bar parlour. The innkeeper, of his own +accord, brought in some of the famous smuggled brandy, and willingly +accepted the detective's invitation to drink a glass of it. With an +old-fashioned long-footed liqueur glass of the brown brandy in front of +him, the innkeeper waxed more loquacious than Colwyn had yet found him, +and related many strange tales of the old smuggling days of the inn, +when cargoes of brandy were landed on the coast, and stowed away in the +inn's subterranean passages almost under the noses of the excise +officers. According to local history, the inn had been built into the +hillside to afford better lurking-places, for those who were continually +at variance with His Majesty's excise officers. There was one local +worthy named Cranley, the lawless ancestor of the yeoman who had sold +the piece of land to Mr. Glenthorpe, who was reported to be the most +brazen smuggler in Norfolk, which was saying something, considering the +greater portion of the coastal population were engaged in smuggling in +those days. + +Cranley was a local hero, with a hero's love for the brandy he smuggled +so freely, and tradition declared of him that on one occasion he set +light to some barns and hayricks in order to warn some of his smuggling +companions who were "running a cargo" that a trap had been laid for +them. The farmers who had suffered by the blaze had sought to carry +Cranley before the justices, but he, with a few choice spirits, had +barricaded himself in the inn, defying the countryside for months, +subsisting on bread and brandy, and shooting from the circular windows +on the south side of the house at the soldiers sent to take him. Local +tradition varied as to the ultimate fate of Cranley and his desperate +band. + +According to some authorities, they escaped through the marshes and put +to sea; but another version of the story declared that they had been +captured and tried in the inn, and then ingloriously hanged, one after +the other, from the stanchion outside the door from which the anchor +suspended. This version added the touch that Cranley's last request was +for a bumper of the famous old brandy he had lost his life for, and when +it was given him he quaffed it to the bottom, dashed the cup in the +hangman's face, and swung himself off into eternity. Confirmatory +evidence of the siege of Cranley and his merry men was to be seen in +the outside wall, which was dinted with bullet marks made by the King's +troops as they tried to hit the smugglers, firing through the circular +windows. + +The innkeeper rambled on in this fashion until the entry of Charles with +a table-cloth reminded him of the flight of time, and he withdrew with a +halting apology for having sat there talking so long. The fat waiter +saluted Colwyn with a grave bow, and proceeded to lay the cloth. When he +had done this he left the room and returned with a bottle of claret, +which he put down in front of the fire, and proceeded to warm the wine, +keeping his hand on the bottle as he did so. Then he lifted the bottle +and held it to the light before setting it carefully on the table. + +"Your knowledge of wine is not of much use to you in Flegne, Charles," +remarked Colwyn. "You do not belong to these parts, I fancy." + +"No, sir. I'm a Londoner born and bred," replied the waiter, in his soft +whisper. + +"Why did you leave it? Londoners, as a rule, prefer their city to any +other part of the world." + +"I'd starve there now that my hearing is gone. London takes everything +from you, but gives you nothing in return. I'm only too grateful to Mr. +Benson for employing me here, considering the nature of my affliction. +No London hotel would give me a job now. But though I do say it, sir, I +think I make myself useful to Mr. Benson, and earn my keep and the few +shillings he gives me. I save him all the trouble I can." + +This was undoubtedly true, as Colwyn had observed during his former +visit to the inn. The deaf waiter was, to all intents and purposes, the +real manager of the inn, leaving the innkeeper free to pursue his +solitary life while he attended to the bar and the cellar, helped Ann +with the work, and waited on infrequent travellers. Doubtless the +arrangement suited both, though it could not have been profitable to +either, for there was little more than a bare living for one in such a +place. + +Looking up suddenly from his plate, Colwyn caught the waiter's black +eyes fixed on him in a keen penetrating gaze. Meeting the detective's +eyes, Charles instantly lowered his own. But for the latter action +Colwyn would have thought nothing of the incident, for he was aware that +Charles, on account of his deafness, had to watch the lips of people he +was serving in order to read their lips. But if Charles had been merely +watching for him to speak he would not have felt impelled to avert his +gaze when detected. The sudden lowering of his eyes was the swift +unconscious action of a man taken by surprise. The detective realised +that Charles did not accept the reason he had given to account for his +second visit to the inn. Charles evidently suspected that that reason +masked some ulterior motive. + +Colwyn finished his dinner and produced his cigar-case. Selecting a +cigar, he lit it with a match from the box Peggy had given him that day. + +"Have you ever seen this box before, Charles?" he said, placing the box +on the table. + +The waiter picked up the little silver and enamel box and examined it +attentively. + +"I have, sir," he said, handing it back. "It is Mr. Penreath's." + +"How do you recognise it?" + +"By the letters in enamel, sir. I noticed them that night at the dinner +table, when I was holding Mr. Penreath's candlestick while he lit it +with a match from that box." + +"Did he put it back in his pocket after lighting the candle?" + +"Yes, sir; into his vest pocket." + +"It was picked up in Mr. Glenthorpe's room after the murder was +committed. A strong clue, Charles! Many a man has been hanged on less." + +"No doubt, sir." + +The waiter, balancing a tray on his deformed arm, proceeded to clear the +table. When he had completed his task he asked the detective if he +needed him any more, because if he did not it was time for him to go +into the bar. On Colwyn saying that he needed nothing further he +noiselessly withdrew, steadying the loaded tray with his sound hand. + +Colwyn spent the evening sitting by the fire, smoking. It was fortunate +he had plenty to think about, for the inn did not offer any resources in +the way of reading to occupy the mind of the chance visitor to its roof. +There were a few books in the recess by the fireplace, but they +consisted of bound volumes of _The Norfolk Sporting Gazette_ from 1860 +to 1870, with an odd volume on _Fishing on the Broads_ and an obsolete +_Farmers' Annual_. The past occupants of the inn had evidently been keen +sportsmen, for there were specimens of stuffed fowl and fish ranged in +glass cases around the walls, and two old rusty fowling pieces and a +fishing rod hung suspended near the ceiling. + +Shortly after nine o'clock the innkeeper entered the room with a +candlestick, which he placed on the table. He explained that it was his +custom to go upstairs early, in order to sit with his mother for a +little while before he retired. The poor soul looked for it, he said, +and grew restless if he was late. + +"Who is sitting with her at present?" inquired the detective. + +"My daughter, sir. She always waits till I go up." + +"You never leave her alone, then?" + +"Only at night-time, sir. The doctor told me she could be safely left at +night. She sleeps fairly well, considering, though when there's wild +weather I always go in to her. The sound of the wind shrieking across +the marshes from the sea excites her, and we get a lot of that sort of +weather on the Norfolk coast, particularly in the winter months. I wish +I could afford to have her better looked after, but I cannot, and that's +the long and short of it." + +"Things are pretty bad with you, Benson?" + +"Very bad, indeed, sir. It keeps me awake at night, wondering where it's +all going to end. However, I don't want to burden you with my +troubles--I suppose we all have our own to bear. I merely came in to +bring your candlestick, and to ask you if there is anything you want +before I go to bed. Charles is gone to his room, but Ann is still up." + +"Tell Ann she need not sit up on my account. I need nothing further, and +I can find my way to my room. Is it ready yet?" + +"Quite, sir. Ann has just been up there, putting on some fresh sheets. +Perhaps you wouldn't mind turning off the gas at the meter as you go +up--it is just underneath the stairs. If you would not mind the trouble +Ann could then go to bed. We keep early hours here, as a rule. There is +nothing to sit up for." + +"I'll turn off the gas--I know where the meter is. How is it, Benson, +that the gas is laid on in only two of the rooms upstairs--the rooms Mr. +Glenthorpe used to occupy? It would have been an easy matter to lay it +on to the adjoining rooms, once the pipes had been taken upstairs." + +"That's quite true, sir, but the gas was taken upstairs on Mr. +Glenthorpe's account, shortly after he came here. He thought he would +like it, and he paid the bill for having it fixed. But after it was laid +on he rarely used it. He said he found the gaslight trying for his eyes +when he wanted to read in bed, so he got a reading lamp." + +"And yet the gas tap was partly turned on in his room the morning after +the murder," remarked Colwyn meditatively. + +"Perhaps the murderer turned it on," suggested the innkeeper in a low +tone. + +But there was a slight tremor in his voice that did not escape the keen +ears of the detective. + +"That is possible, but the point was not cleared up at the trial; it +probably never will be now," he replied, eyeing the innkeeper +attentively. "And the incandescent burner was broken too. Have you had a +new burner attached, Benson?" + +"No, sir. The room has never been used since." + +"It's a queer thing about that broken burner. That's another point in +this case that was not cleared up at the trial. Who do you think broke +it?" + +"How should I know, sir?" His bird's eyes, in their troubled shadow, +turned uneasily from the detective's glance. + +"Nevertheless, you can hazard an opinion. Why not? The case is over and +done with now, and Penreath--or Ronald, as he called himself--is +condemned to death. So who do you think broke that burner, Benson?" + +"Who else but the murderer, sir?" + +"That's the police theory, I know, but I doubt whether Penreath was tall +enough to strike it with his head. It's more than six feet from the +ground." The detective threw a critical glance over the innkeeper's +figure as though he were measuring his height with his eye. "You are +well over six feet, Benson--you might have done it." + +It was a chance shot, but the effect was remarkable. The innkeeper swung +his small head on the top of his long neck in the direction of the +detective, with a strange gesture, like a pinioned eagle twisting in a +trap. + +"What makes you say that!" he cried, and his voice had a new and +strident note. "I had nothing whatever to do with it." + +"What do you mean?" replied the detective sternly. "What do you suppose +I am suggesting?" + +"I beg your pardon, sir," replied the other. "The fact is I have not +been myself for some time past." + +His voice broke off in an odd tremor, and Colwyn noticed that the long +thin hand he stretched out, as though to deprecate his previous +violence, was shaking violently. + +"What's the matter with you, man?" The detective eyed him keenly. "Your +nerve has gone." + +"I know it has, sir. What happened in this house a fortnight ago upset +me terribly, and I haven't got over it yet. I have other troubles as +well--private troubles. I've had to sit up with mother a good deal +lately." + +"You'd better take a few doses of bromide," said the detective +brusquely. "A man with your nerves should not live in a place like this. +You had better go to bed now. Good night." + +"Good night, sir." The innkeeper hurried out of the room without another +word. + +Colwyn sat by the fire for some time longer pondering over this +unexpected incident, until the kitchen clock chiming eleven warned him +to go to bed. He turned off the gas at the meter underneath the stairs +as Benson had requested. When he reached the room in which Mr. +Glenthorpe had been murdered, he paused outside the door, and turned the +handle. The door was locked. + +As he was about to enter the adjoining bedroom which had been allotted +to him, a slender pencil of light pierced the darkness of the passage +leading off the one in which he stood. As he watched the gleam grew +brighter and broader; somebody was walking along the other passage. A +moment later the innkeeper's daughter came into view, carrying a candle. +She advanced quickly to where the detective was standing. + +"I heard you coming upstairs," she explained, in a whisper. "I have been +waiting and listening at my door. I wanted to see you, but it is +difficult for me to do so without the others knowing. So I thought I +would wait. I wanted to let you know that if you wish to see me at any +time--if you need me to do anything--perhaps you would put a note under +my door, and I could meet you down by the breakwater at any time you +appoint. Nobody would see us there." + +Colwyn nodded approvingly. Decidedly this girl was not lacking in +resource and intelligence. + +"I am so glad you are here," she went on earnestly. "I was afraid, after +I left you to-day, that you might change your mind. I waited at one of +the upstairs windows all the afternoon till I saw you coming. You will +save him, won't you?" + +She looked up at him with a faint smile, which, slight as it was, gave +her face a new rare beauty. + +"I will try," responded Colwyn, gravely. "Can you tell where the key of +Mr. Glenthorpe's room is kept?" + +"It hangs in the kitchen. Do you want it? I will get it for you. If Ann +or Charles see me, they, will not think it as strange as if they saw +you." + +She was so eager to be of use to him that she did not wait for his +reply, but ran quickly and noiselessly along the passage, and down the +stairs. In a very brief space she returned with the key, which she +placed in his hand. "Is there anything else I can do?" she asked. + +"Nothing, except to tell me where you got the key. I want to put it back +again without anybody knowing it has been used." + +"It hangs on the kitchen dresser--the second hook. You cannot mistake +it, because there is a padlock key and one of my father's fishing lines +hanging on the same hook." + +"Then that is all you can do. I will let you know if I want to see you +at any time." + +"Thank you. Good night!" She was gone without another word. + +Colwyn stood at his door watching her until she disappeared into the +passage which led to her own room. Then he turned into his bedroom and +shut the door behind him. + +He walked to the window and threw it open. The sea mist, driving over +the silent marshes like a cloud, touched his face coldly as he stood +there, meditating on the strange turn of events which had brought him +back to the inn to pursue his investigations into the murder at the +point where he had left them more than a fortnight before. In that brief +period how much had happened! Penreath had been tried and sentenced to +death for a crime which Colwyn now believed he had not committed. +Chance--no, Destiny--by placing in his hand a significant clue, had +directed his footsteps thither, and left it for his intelligence to +atone for his past blunder before it was too late. + +It was with a feeling that the hand of Destiny was upon him that Colwyn +turned from the window and regarded the little room with keen +curiosity. Its drab interior held a secret which was a challenge to his +intelligence to discover. What had happened in that room the night +Ronald slept there? He noted the articles of furniture one by one. +Nothing seemed changed since he had last been in the room, the day after +the murder was committed. There was a washstand near the window, a chest +of drawers, a dressing table and a large wardrobe at the side of the +bed. Colwyn looked at this last piece of furniture with the same +interest he had felt when he saw it the first time. It was far too big +and cumbrous a wardrobe for so small a room, about eight feet high and +five feet in width, and it was placed in the most inconvenient part of +the room, by the side of the bed, not far from the wall which abutted on +the passage. He opened its double doors and looked within. The wardrobe +was empty. + +Colwyn made a methodical search of the room in the hope of discovering +something which would throw light on the events of the night of the +murder. Doubtless the room had not been occupied since Penreath had +slept there, and he might have left something behind him--perhaps some +forgotten scrap of paper which might help to throw light on this strange +and sinister mystery. In the detection of crime seeming trifles often +lead to important discoveries, as nobody was better aware than Colwyn. +But though he searched the room with painstaking care, he found nothing. + +It was while he was thus engaged that a faint rustle aroused his +attention, and looking towards the corner of the room whence it +proceeded, he saw a large rat crouching by the skirting-board watching +him with malevolent eyes. Colwyn looked round for a weapon with which to +hit it. The creature seemed to divine his intentions, for it scuttled +squeaking across the room, and disappeared behind the wardrobe. + +Colwyn approached the wardrobe and pushed it back. As he did so, he had +a curious sensation which he could hardly define. It was as though an +unseen presence had entered the room, and was silently watching him. His +actions seemed not of his own volition; it was as though some force +stronger than himself was urging him on. And, withal, he had the uncanny +feeling that the whole incident of the rat and the wardrobe, and his +share in it, was merely a repetition of something which had happened in +the room before. + +The wardrobe moved much more easily than he had expected, considering +its weight and size. There was no rat behind it, but a hole under the +skirting showed where the animal had made its escape. But it was the +space where the wardrobe had stood that claimed Colwyn's attention. The +reason why it had been placed in its previous position was made plain. +The damp had penetrated the wall on that side, and had so rotted the +wall paper that a large portion of it had fallen away. + +In the bare portion of the wall thus revealed, about two feet square, +was a wooden trap door, fastened by a button. Colwyn unfastened the +button, and opened the door. A black hole gaped at him. + +The light of the candle showed that the wall was hollow, and the trap +opened into the hollow space. There was nothing unusual in such a door +in an old house; Colwyn had seen similar doors in other houses built +with the old-fashioned thick walls. It was the primitive ventilation of +a past generation; the doors, when opened, permitted a free current of +air to percolate through the building, and get to the foundations. But a +further examination of the hole revealed something which Colwyn had +never seen before--a corresponding door on the other side of the wall. +The other door opened into the bedroom which had been occupied by Mr. +Glenthorpe. Colwyn pushed it with his hand, but it did not yield. It was +doubtless fastened with a button on the outside, like the other. + +Colwyn, scrutinising the second door closely, noticed that the wood was +worm-eaten and shrunken. For that reason it fitted but loosely into the +aperture of the wall, and on the one side there was a wide crack which +arrested Colwyn's attention. It ran the whole length of the door, along +the top--that is, horizontally--and was, perhaps, a quarter of an inch +wide. + +With the tightened nerves which presage an important discovery, Colwyn +felt for his pocket knife, opened the largest blade, and thrust it into +the crack. It penetrated up to the handle. He ran the knife along the +whole length of the crack without difficulty. There was no doubt it +opened into the next room. + +Colwyn closed the trap-door carefully, and started to push the wardrobe +back into its previous position. As he did so, his eye fell upon several +tiny scraps of paper lying in the vacant space. He stooped, and picked +them up. They were the torn fragments of a pocket-book leaf, which had +been written upon. Colwyn endeavoured to place the fragments together +and read the writing. But some of the pieces were missing, and he could +only decipher two disjointed words--"Constance" and "forgive." + +Slowly, almost mechanically, the detective felt for his pipe, lit it, +and stood for a long time at the open window, gazing with set eyes into +the brooding darkness, wrapped in profound thought, thinking of his +discoveries and what they portended. + + + +CHAPTER XX + + +Colwyn was astir with the first glimmering of a grey dawn. He wanted to +test the police theory that the murder was committed by climbing from +one bedroom to the other, but he did not desire to be discovered in the +experiment by any of the inmates of the inn. + +The window of his bedroom was so small that it was difficult to get +through, and there was a drop of more than eight feet from the ledge to +the hillside. After one or two attempts Colwyn got out feet foremost, +and when half way through wriggled his body round until he was able to +grasp the window-ledge and drop to the ground. The fall caused his heels +to sink deeply into the clay of the hillside, which was moist and sticky +after the rain. + +Colwyn closely examined the impression his heels had made, and then +walked along until he stood underneath the window of the next room. It +was an easy matter to climb through this window, which was larger, and +closer to the ground--five feet from the hillside, at the most. Colwyn +sprang on to the ledge, and tried the window with his hand. It was +unlocked. He pushed up the lower pane, and entered the room. + +From the window he walked straight to the bedside, noting, as he walked, +that his footsteps left on the carpet crumbs of the red earth from +outside, similar to those which had been found in the room the morning +after the murder. He next examined the broken incandescent burner in the +chandelier in the middle of the room, and took careful measurements of +the distances between the gas jet, the bedside and the door, observing, +as he did so, that the gaslight was almost in a line with the foot of +the bed. That was a point he had marked previously when Superintendent +Galloway had suggested that the incandescent burner was broken by the +murderer striking it with the corpse he was carrying. Colwyn had found +it difficult to accept that point of view at the time, but now, in the +light of recent discoveries, and the new theory of the crime which was +gradually taking shape in his mind, it seemed almost incredible that the +murderer, staggering under the weight of his ghastly burden, should have +taken anything but the shortest track to the door. + +After examining the bed with an attentive eye, Colwyn next looked for +the small door in the wall. It was not apparent: the wall-paper appeared +to cover the whole of the wall on that side of the room in unbroken +continuity. But a closer inspection revealed a slight fissure or crack, +barely noticeable in the dark green wall-paper, extending an inch or so +beyond a small picture suspended near the door of the room. When the +picture was taken down the crack was more apparent, for it ran nearly +the whole length of the space. The door had been papered over when the +room was last papered, which was a long time ago, judging by the dingy +condition of the wall-paper, and the crack had been caused by the +shrinking of the woodwork of the door, as Colwyn had noticed the +previous night. + +Colwyn let himself out of the room with the key Peggy had given him, +locked the door behind him, and took the key down to the kitchen. It was +still very early, and nobody was stirring. Having hung the key on the +hook of the dresser, he returned to his room. + +At breakfast time that morning Charles informed him, in his husky +whisper, that he had to go over to Heathfield that day, to ascertain why +the brewer had not sent a consignment of beer, which was several days +overdue. Charles' chief regret was that for some hours his guest would +be left to the tender mercies of Ann, and he let it be understood that +he had the poorest opinion of women as waitresses. But he promised to +return in time to minister to Colwyn's comforts at dinner. Somewhat +amused, Colwyn told the fat man not to hurry back on his account, as Ann +could look after him very well. + +As Colwyn was smoking a cigar in front of the inn after breakfast, he +saw Charles setting out on his journey, and watched his short fat form +toil up the rise and disappear on the other side. Immediately +afterwards, the gaunt figure of the innkeeper emerged from the inn, +prepared for a fishing excursion. He hesitated a moment on seeing +Colwyn, then walked towards him and informed him that he was going to +have a morning's fishing in a river stream a couple of miles away, +having heard good accounts in the bar overnight of the fish there since +the recent rain. + +"Who will look after the inn, with both you and Charles away?" asked +Colwyn, with a smile. + +The innkeeper, carefully bestowing a fishing-line in the capacious side +pocket of his faded tweed coat, replied that as the inn was out of beer, +and not likely to have any that day, there was not much lost by leaving +it. That seemed to exhaust the possibilities of the conversation, but +the innkeeper lingered, looking at his guest as though he had something +on his mind. + +"I do not know if you care for fishing, sir," he remarked, after a +rather lengthy pause. "If you do, I should be happy at any time to show +you a little sport. The fishing is very good about this district--as +good as anywhere in Norfolk." + +Colwyn was quick to divine what was passing in the innkeeper's mind. He +had been brooding over the incident in the bar parlour of the previous +night, and hoped by this awkward courtesy to remove the impression of +his overnight rudeness from his visitor's mind. As Colwyn was equally +desirous of allaying his fears, he thanked him for his offer, and stood +chatting with him for some moments. His pleasant and natural manner had +the effect of putting the innkeeper at his ease, and there was an +obvious air of relief in his bearing as he wished the detective good +morning and departed on his fishing expedition. + +Colwyn spent the morning in a solitary walk along the marshes, thinking +over the events of the night and morning. He returned to the inn for an +early lunch, which was served by Ann, who gossiped to him freely of the +small events which had constituted the daily life of the village since +his previous visit. The principal of these, it seemed, had been the +reappearance, after a long period of inaction, of the White Lady of the +Shrieking Pit--an apparition which haunted the hut circles on the rise. +Colwyn, recalling that Duney and Backlos imagined they had encountered a +spectre the night they saw Penreath on the edge of the wood, asked Ann +who the "White Lady" was supposed to be. Ann was reticent at first. She +admitted that she was a firm believer in the local tradition, which she +had imbibed with her mother's milk, but it was held to be unlucky to +talk about the White Lady. However, her feminine desire to impart +information soon overcame her fears, and she launched forth into full +particulars of the legend. It appeared that for generations past the +deep pit on the rise in which Mr. Glenthorpe's body had been thrown had +been the haunt of a spirit known as the White Lady, who, from time to +time, issued from the depths of the pit, clad in a white trailing +garment, to wander along the hut circles on the rise, shrieking and +sobbing piteously. Whose ghost she was, and why she shrieked, Ann was +unable to say. Her appearances were infrequent, with sometimes as long +as a year between them, and the timely warning she gave of her coming by +shrieking from the depths of the pit before making her appearance, +enabled folk to keep indoors and avoid her when she was walking. As long +as she wasn't seen by anybody, not much harm was done, but the sight of +her was fatal to the beholder, who was sure to come to a swift and +violent end. + +Ann related divers accredited instances of calamity which had followed +swiftly upon an encounter with the White Lady, including that of her own +sister's husband, who had seen her one night going home, and the very +next day had been kicked by a horse and killed on the spot. Ann's +grandmother, when a young girl, had heard her shrieking one night when +she was going home, but had had the presence of mind to fall flat on her +face until the shrieking had ceased, by which means she avoided seeing +her, and had died comfortably in her bed at eighty-one in consequence. + +Colwyn gathered from the countrywoman's story that the prevailing +impression in the village was that Mr. Glenthorpe's murder was due to +the interposition of the White Lady of the Shrieking Pit. The White +Lady, after a long silence, had been heard to shriek once two nights +before the murder, but the warning had not deterred Mr. Glenthorpe from +taking his nightly walk on the rise, although Ann, out of her liking and +respect for the old gentleman, had even ventured to forget her place +and beg and implore him not to go. But he had laughed at her, and said +if he met the White Lady he would stop and have a chat with her about +her ancestors. Those were his very words, and they made her blood run +cold at the time, though she little thought how soon he would be +repenting of his foolhardiness in his coffin. If he had only listened to +her he might have been alive that blessed day, for she hadn't the +slightest doubt he met the White Lady that night in his walk, and his +doom was brought about in consequence. + +Ann concluded by solemnly urging Colwyn, as long as he remained at the +inn, to keep indoors at night as he valued his life, for ever since the +murder the White Lady had been particularly active, shrieking nearly +every night, as though seeking another victim, and the whole village was +frightened to stir out in consequence. Ann had reluctantly to admit that +she had never actually heard her shrieking herself--she was a heavy +sleeper at any time--but there were those who had, plenty of them. +Besides, hadn't he heard that Charles, while shutting up the inn the +very night poor Mr. Glenthorpe's body had been taken away, had seen +something white on the rise? On Colwyn replying that he had not heard +this, Ann assured him the whole village believed that Charles had seen +the White Lady, and regarded him as good as dead, and many were the +speculations as to the manner in which his inevitable fate would fall. + +The relation of the legend of the White Lady lasted to the conclusion of +lunch, and then Colwyn sauntered outside with a cigar, in order to make +another examination of the ground the murderer had covered in going to +the pit. The body had been carried out the back way, across the green +which separated the inn from the village, and up the rise to the pit. +The green was now partly under water, and the track of the footprints +leading to the rise had been obliterated by the heavy rains which had +fallen since, but the soft surface retained the impression of Colwyn's +footsteps with the same distinctness with which it had held, and +afterwards revealed, the track of the man who had carried the corpse to +the pit. + +Colwyn examined the pit closely. The edges were wet and slippery, and in +places the earth had been washed away. The sides, for some distance +down, were lined with a thick growth of shrubs and birch. Colwyn knelt +down on the edge and peered into the interior of the pit. He tested the +strength of the climbing and creeping plants which twisted in snakelike +growth in the interior. It seemed to him that it would be a +comparatively easy matter to descend into the pit by their support, so +far as they went. But how far did they go? + +While he was thus occupied he heard the sound of footsteps crashing +through the undergrowth of the little wood on the other side of the pit. +A moment later a man, carrying a rabbit, and followed by a mongrel dog, +came into view. It was Duney. He stared hard at Colwyn and then advanced +towards him with a grin of recognition. + +"Yow be lookin' to see how t'owd ma'aster was hulled dune th' pit?" he +asked. + +"I was wondering how far the pit ran straight down," replied Colwyn. "It +seems to take a slight slope a little way down. Does it?" + +"I doan't know narthin' about th' pit, and I doan't want to," replied +Mr. Duney, backing away with a slightly pale face. "Doan't yow meddle +wi' un, ma'aster. It's a quare place, thissun." + +"Why, what's the matter with it?" + +"Did you never hear that th' pit's haunted? Like enough nobody'd tell +yow. Folk hereabowts aren't owerfond of talkin' of th' White Lady of th' +Shrieking Pit, for fear it should bring un bad luck." + +"I've been hearing a little about her to-day. Is she any relation of +Black Shuck, the ghost dog you were telling me about?" + +"It's no larfin' matter, ma'aster. You moind the day me and Billy +Backlog come and towld yow about us seein' that chap on th' edge of yon +wood that night? Well, just befower we seed un we heerd th' rummiest +kind of noise--summat atween a moan and a shriek, comin' from this 'ere +pit. I reckon, from what's happened to that chap Ronald since, that it +wor the White Lady of th' Pit we heered. It's lucky for us we didn't see +un." + +"I remember at the time you mentioned something about it." + +"Ay, she be a terr'ble bad sperrit," said Mr. Duney, wagging his head +unctuously. "She comes out of this yare pit wheer t'owd man was chucked, +and wanders about the wood and th' rise, a-yellin' somefin awful. It's +nowt to hear her--we've all heerd her for that matter--but to see her is +to meet a bloody and violent end within the month. That's why they call +this 'ere pit 'the Shrieking Pit.' I'm thinkin' that owd Mr. Glenthorpe, +who was allus fond of walkin' up this way at nights, met her one night, +and that'll account for his own bloody end. And it's my belief that she +appeared to the young chap who was hidin' in th' woods the night we saw +un. And look what's happened to un! He's got to be hanged, which is a +violent end, thow p'r'aps not bloody." + +"If that's the local belief, I wonder anybody went down into the pit to +recover Mr. Glenthorpe's body." + +"Nobody wouldn't 'a' gone down but Herward. I wouldn't 'a' gone down for +untowd gowd, but Herward comes from th' Broads, and don't know nartin' +about this part of the ma'shes. Besides, he ain't no Christian, down't +care for no ghosts nor sperrits. I've often heerd un say so." + +"Is it true that the White Lady has been seen since Mr. Glenthorpe was +murdered?" + +"She's been heered, shure enough. Billy Backlog, who lives closest to +the rise, was a-tellin' us in the _Anchor_ bar that she woke him up two +nights arter th' murder, a-yowlin' like an old tomcat, but Billy knew +it worn't a cat--it weer far more fearsome, wi gasps at th' end. The +deaf fat chap at Benson's arst him what time this might be. Billy said +he disremembered th' time--mebbe it wor ten or a bit past. Then the fat +chap said it wor just about that time the same night, as he wor shuttin' +up, he saw somefin white float up to th' top of th' pit. He thowt at th' +time it might be mist, thow there weren't much mist on th' ma'shes that +night, but now he says 'es sure that it wor the White Lady from the +Shrieking Pit that he saw. 'Then Gawdamighty help yow, poor fat chap,' +says Billy, looking at him solemn-like. 'The hearin' of her is narthin', +it's th' seein' o' her that's the trouble.' The poor fat chap a' been +nigh skeered out o' his wits ever since, and nobody in th' village wud +go near th' pit a' nighttimes--no, not for a fortin. I ain't sure as +it's safe to be here even in daytimes, thow I never heered of her comin' +out in the light." Mr. Duney turned resolutely away from the pit, and +called to his dog, who was sitting near the edge, regarding his master +with blinking eyes and lolling tongue. "I'll be goin', in case that +Queensmead sees me from th' village. I cot this coney fair and square in +th' open, but it be hard to make Queensmead believe it. Well, I'll be +goin'. Good mornin', ma'aster." + +He trudged away across the rise, with his dog following at his heels. +Colwyn was about to turn away also, when his eye was caught by a scrap +of stained and discoloured paper lying near the edge of the pit, where +the rain had washed away some of the earth. He stooped, and picked it +up. It was a slip of white paper, about five inches long, and perhaps +three inches in width, quite blank, but with a very apparent watermark, +consisting of a number of parallel waving lines, close together, running +across the surface. Although the watermark was an unusual one, it seemed +strangely familiar to Colwyn, who tried to recall where he had seen it +before. But memory is a tricky thing. Although Colwyn's memory instantly +recognised the watermark on the paper, he could not, for the moment, +recollect where he had seen it, though it seemed as familiar to him as +the face of some old acquaintance whose name he had temporarily +forgotten. Colwyn ultimately gave up the effort for the time being, and +placed the piece of paper in his pocket-book, knowing that his memory +would, sooner or later, perform unconsciously the task it refused to +undertake when asked. + +Colwyn spent the afternoon in another solitary walk, and darkness had +set in before he returned to the village. As he reached the inn he +glanced towards the hut circles, and was startled to see something white +move slowly along by the edge of the Shrieking Pit and vanish in the +wood. There was something so weird and ghostly in the spectacle that +Colwyn was momentarily astounded by it. Then his eye fell on the sea +mist which covered the marshes in a white shroud, and he smiled +slightly. It was not the White Lady of the Shrieking Pit he had seen, +but a spiral of mist, floating across the rise. + +The sight brought back to his mind the stories he had heard that day, +and when he was seated at dinner a little later he casually asked +Charles if he believed in ghosts. The fat man, with a sudden uplifting +of his black eyes, as though to ascertain whether Colwyn was speaking +seriously, replied that he did not. + +"I'm surprised to hear of your scepticism, Charles, for I'm told that +the apparition from the pit--the White Lady, as she is called--has +favoured you with a special appearance," said Colwyn, in a bantering +tone. + +"I see what you mean now, sir. I didn't understand you at first. It was +like this: some of the villagers were talking about this ghost in the +bar a few nights back, and one or two of the villagers, who all firmly +believed in it, declared that they had heard her wandering about the +previous night, moaning and shrieking, as is supposed to be her custom. +I, more by way of a joke than anything else, told them I had seen +something white on the rise the previous night, when I was shutting up +the inn. But the whole village has got it into their heads that I saw +the White Lady, and they think because I've seen her I'm a doomed man. +The country folk round about here are an ignorant and superstitious lot, +sir." + +"And did you actually see anything, Charles, the night you speak of?" + +"I saw something, sir--something long and white--like a moving white +pillar, if I may so express myself. While I looked it vanished into the +woods." + +"It was probably mist. I saw something similar this evening!" + +"Very likely, sir. I do not think it was a ghost." + +Colwyn did not pursue the subject further, though he was struck by the +wide difference between Charles' account of the incident and that given +to him by Duney at the pit that afternoon. + +When Charles had cleared the table Colwyn sat smoking and thinking until +late. After he was sure that the rest of the inmates of the inn had +retired, he went to the kitchen and took the key of Mr. Glenthorpe's +room from the hook of the dresser. When he reached his own bedroom, his +first act was to push back the wardrobe and open the trap door he had +discovered the previous night. He looked at his watch, and found that +the hour was a little after eleven. He decided to wait for half an hour +before carrying out the experiment he contemplated. By midnight he would +be fairly safe from the fear of discovery. He lay down on his bed to +pass the intervening time, but he was so tired that he fell asleep +almost immediately. + +He awakened with a start, and sat up, staring into the black darkness. +For a moment or two he did not realise his surroundings, then the sound +of stealthy footsteps passing his door brought him back to instant +wakefulness. The footsteps halted--outside his door, it seemed to +Colwyn. There followed the sound of a hand fumbling with a lock, +followed by the shooting of a bolt and the creaking of a door. The truth +flashed upon the detective; somebody was entering the next room. As he +listened, there was the scrape of a match, and a moment later a narrow +shaft of light streamed through the open wall-door into his room. + +Colwyn got noiselessly off his bed and looked through the crack in the +inner small door into the other room. The picture on the other side of +the wall narrowed his range of vision, but through the inch or so of +crack extending beyond the picture he was able to see clearly that +portion of the adjoining bedroom in which the bed stood. Near the bed, +examining with the light of a candle the contents of the writing table +which stood alongside of it, was Benson, the innkeeper. + +He was searching for something--rummaging through the drawers of the +table, taking out papers and envelopes, and tearing them open with a +furious desperate energy, pausing every now and again to look hurriedly +over his shoulder, as though he expected to see some apparition start up +from the shadowy corners. The search was apparently fruitless, for +presently he crammed the papers back into the drawers with the same +feverish haste, and, walking rapidly across the room, passed out of the +view of the watcher on the other side, for the picture which hung on the +inside wall prevented Colwyn seeing beyond the foot of the bed. Although +the innkeeper could not now be seen, the sound of his stealthy quick +movements, and the flickering lights cast by the candle he carried, +suggested plainly enough that he was continuing his search in that +portion of the room which was not visible through the crack. + +In a few minutes he came back into Colwyn's range of vision, looking +dusty and dishevelled, with drops of perspiration starting from his +face. With a savage gesture, which was akin to despair, he wiped the +perspiration from his face, and tossed back his long hair from his +forehead. It was the first time Colwyn had seen his forehead uncovered, +and a thrill ran through him as he noticed a deep bruise high upon the +left temple. The next moment the innkeeper walked swiftly out of the +room, and Colwyn heard him close the door softly behind him. + +Colwyn waited awhile. When everything seemed quiet, he cautiously opened +his door in the dark, and tried the door of the adjoining room. It was +locked. + +The innkeeper, then, had another key which fitted the murdered man's +door. And what was he searching for? Money? The treasury notes which Mr. +Glenthorpe had drawn out of the bank the day he was murdered, which had +never been found? Money--notes! + +By one of those hidden and unaccountable processes of the human brain, +the association of ideas recalled to Colwyn's mind where he had +previously seen the peculiar watermark of waving lines visible on the +piece of paper he had picked up at the brink of the pit that afternoon: +it was the Government watermark of the first issue of War Treasury +notes. + +Colwyn lit his bedroom candle, and examined the piece of paper in his +pocket-book with a new and keen interest. There was no doubt about it, +the mark on the dirty blank paper was undoubtedly the Treasury +watermark. But how came such a mark, designed exclusively for the +protection of the Treasury against bank-note forgeries, to appear on a +dirty scrap of paper? + +As he stood there, turning the bit of paper over and over, in his hand, +puzzling over the problem, the solution flashed into his mind--a +solution so simple, yet, withal, so remarkable, that he hesitated to +believe it possible. But a further examination of the paper removed his +doubts. Chance had placed in his hands another clue, and the most +important he had yet discovered, to help him in the elucidation of the +mystery of the murder of Roger Glenthorpe. But to verify that clue it +would be necessary for him to descend the pit. + + + +CHAPTER XXI + + +An orange crescent of a waning moon was sinking in a black sky as Colwyn +let himself quietly out of the door and took his way up to the rise. But +the darkness of the night was fading fast before the grey dawn of the +coming day, and in the marshes below the birds were beginning to stir +and call among the reeds. + +Colwyn waited for the first light of dawn before attempting the descent +of the pit. His plan was to climb down by the creepers as far as they +went, and descend the remainder of the distance by the rope, which he +would fasten to one of the shrubs growing in the interior. He realised +that his chances of success depended on the slope of the pit and the +depth to which the shrubs grew, but the attempt was well worth making. +Assistance would have made the task much easier, but publicity was the +thing Colwyn desired most to avoid at that stage of his investigations. +There would be time enough to consider the question of seeking help if +he failed in his individual effort. + +He made his plans carefully before commencing the descent. He first +tested a rope he had found in the lumber room of the inn; it was thin +but strong and capable of bearing the weight of a heavier man than +himself. The rope was not more than fifteen feet in length, but if the +hardy climbing plants which lined the sides of the pit were capable of +supporting him ten or twelve feet down, that length should be sufficient +for his purpose. Having tested the rope and coiled it, he slipped it +into the right-hand pocket of his coat with one end hanging out. Next he +opened his knife, and placed it with a candle and a box of matches in +his other pocket. Then turning on his electric torch, he lowered himself +cautiously into the pit by the creepers which fringed the surface. + +There was no difficulty about the descent for the first eight or ten +feet. Then the shrubs that had afforded foothold for his feet suddenly +ceased, and the foot that he had thrust down for another perch touched +nothing but the slippery side of the pit. Clinging firmly with his left +hand to the network of vegetation which grew above his head, Colwyn +flashed his electric torch into the blackness of the pit beneath him. +One or two long tendrils of the climbing plants which grew higher up +dangled like pendulous snakes, but the vegetable growth ceased at that +point. Beneath him the naked sides of the pit gleamed sleek and wet in +the rays of the torch. + +Pulling himself up a little way to gain a securer footing, Colwyn took +the coil of rope from his pocket, and selecting a strong withe which +hung near him, sought to fasten the end of the rope to it. It took him +some time to do this with the hand he had at liberty, but at length he +accomplished it to his satisfaction, and then he allowed the coils of +the rope to fall into the pit. He next essayed to test the strength of +the support, by pulling at it. To his disappointment, his first vigorous +tug snapped the withe to which the rope was attached. He tied the rope +to a stronger growth, but with no better result: the growths seemed +brittle, and incapable of bearing a great strain when tested separately. +It was the twisted network of the withes and twigs which gave the +climbing plants inside the pit sufficient toughness to support his +weight. Taken singly, they had very little strength. + +Colwyn reluctantly realised that it would be folly to endeavour to +attempt the further descent of the pit by their frail support, and he +decided to relinquish the attempt. + +As he was about to ascend, the light of the torch brought into view that +part of the pit to which he was clinging, and he noticed that the +testing of the withes had torn away a portion of the leafy screen, +revealing the black and slimy surface of the pit's side. Colwyn was +amazed to see a small peg, with a fishing line attached to it, sticking +in the bare earth thus exposed. Somebody had been down the pit and +placed it there--recently, judging by the appearance of the peg, which +was clean and newly cut. What was at the other end of the line, which +dangled in the darkness of the pit? A better hiding place for anything +valuable could not have been devised. The thin fishing line was +indiscernible against the slimy side of the pit, and Colwyn realised +that he would never have discovered it had it not been for the lucky +accident which had exposed the peg to which the line was anchored. A +place of concealment chosen at the expense of so much trouble and risk +indicated something well worth concealing, and it was with a strong +premonition of what was suspended down the pit that the detective, +taking a firmer hold of the twining tendrils above his head, began to +haul up the line. The weight at the end was slight; the line came up +readily enough, foot after foot running through his hand, and then, +finally, a small oblong packet, firmly fastened and knotted to the end +of the line. + +Colwyn examined the packet by the light of the torch. It was a man's +pocket-book of black morocco leather, a large and serviceable article, +thick and heavy. The detective did not need the information conveyed by +the initials "R. G." stamped in silver lettering on one side, to +enlighten him as to the owner of the pocket-book and what it contained. + +Removing the peg from the earth, Colwyn was about to place the +pocket-book and the line in his pocket, but on second thoughts he +restored the peg to its former position, and endeavoured to untie the +knots by which the pocket-book was fastened to the line. It was +difficult to do this with one hand, but, by placing the pocket-book in +his pocket, and picking at the knots one by one, he at length unfastened +it from the line. He tied his own pocket-book to the end of the line, +and dropped it back into the pit. He next replaced the greenery torn +from the spot where the peg rested. When he had restored, as far as he +could, the original appearance of the hiding place, he ascended swiftly +to the surface. + +The first act, on reaching the fresh air, was to examine the contents of +the pocket-book. As he anticipated, it was crammed full of notes of the +first Treasury issue. He did not take them out to count them; a rook, +watching him curiously from the edge of the wood, warned him of the +danger of human eyes. + +Here, then, was the end of his investigations, and a discovery which +would necessitate his departure from the inn sooner than he had +anticipated. Nothing remained for him to do but to acquaint the +authorities with the fresh facts he had brought to light, indicate the +man to whom those facts pointed, and endeavour to see righted the +monstrous act of injustice which had condemned an innocent man to the +ignominy of a shameful death. The sooner that task was commenced the +better. The law was swift to grasp and slow to release, and many were +the formalities to be gone through before the conviction of a wrongly +convicted man could be quashed, especially in a grave charge like +murder. Only on the most convincing fresh evidence could the jury's +verdict be upset, and none knew better than Colwyn that such evidence +had not yet been obtained. But the additional facts discovered during +his second visit to the inn, if not in themselves sufficient to upset +the verdict against Penreath, nevertheless threw an entirely new light +on the crime, which, if speedily followed up, would prove Penreath's +innocence by revealing the actual murderer. The only question was +whether the police would use the clues he was going to place in their +hands in the manner he wished them to be used. If they didn't--but +Colwyn refused to contemplate that possibility. His mind reverted to the +chief constable of Norfolk. He felt he was on firm ground in believing +that Mr. Cromering would act promptly once he was certain that there had +been a miscarriage of justice in the Glenthorpe case. + +It would be necessary to arrange his departure from the inn in such a +manner as not to arouse suspicion, and also to have the pit watched in +case any attempt was made to recover the money he had found that +morning. Colwyn, after some consideration, decided to invoke the aid of +Police Constable Queensmead. His brief association with Queensmead had +convinced him that the village constable was discreet and intelligent. + +It was still very early as he descended to the village and sought the +constable's house. His knock at the door was not immediately answered, +but after the lapse of a minute or two the door was unbolted, and the +constable's face appeared. When he saw who his visitor was he asked to +be excused while he put on some clothes. He was back speedily, and +ushered Colwyn into the room in which he did his official business. + +"Queensmead," said the detective earnestly, "I have to go to Norwich, +and I want you to do something for me in my absence. I am going to tell +you something in strict confidence. Fresh facts have come to light in +the Glenthorpe case. You remember Mr. Glenthorpe's money, which was +supposed to have been stolen by Penreath, but which was never recovered. +I found it this morning down the pit where the body was thrown." + +"How did you get down the pit?" asked Queensmead. + +"I climbed down the creepers as far as they went. I had a rope for the +rest of the descent, but it wasn't needed, for I found Mr. Glenthorpe's +pocket-book suspended by a cord about ten feet down. Here it is." + +Queensmead scrutinised the pocket-book and its contents, and on handing +it back remarked: + +"Do you think Penreath returned and concealed himself in the wood to +recover these notes?" + +Colwyn was struck by the penetration of this remark. + +"No, quite the contrary," he replied. "Your deduction is drawn from an +isolated fact. It has to be taken in conjunction with other fresh facts +which have come to light--facts which put an entirely fresh complexion +on the case, and tend to exculpate Penreath." + +"I would rather not know what they are, then," replied Queensmead +quietly. "It is better I should not know too much. You see, it might be +awkward, in more ways than one, if things are turning out as you say. +What is it you want me to do?" + +"I want you to watch the pit on the rise while I am away, chiefly at +night. It is of paramount importance that the man whom I believe to be +the thief and murderer should not be allowed to escape in my absence. I +do not think that he has any suspicions, so far, and it is practically +certain nobody saw me descend the pit. But if he should, by any chance, +go down to the pit for his money, and find it gone, he would know he +had been discovered, and instantly seek safety in flight. That must be +prevented." + +"How?" + +"You must arrest him." + +"I do not see how that can be done," replied Queensmead. "I cannot take +upon myself to arrest a man simply for descending the pit. It's not +against the law." + +"In order to get over that difficulty I left my own pocket-book tied to +the cord in the pit," replied Colwyn. "It's a black leather one, like +Mr. Glenthorpe's. If the thief goes down he is hardly likely to discover +the difference till he gets to the surface. You can arrest him for the +theft of my pocket-book, which contains a little money. You can make a +formal entry of my complaint of my loss." + +"Well, I've heard that you were a cool customer, Mr. Colwyn, and now I +believe it," replied Queensmead, laughing outright. "Fancy thinking out +a plan like that down in the pit! But as you've made the complaint it's +my duty to enter it, and keep a look out for your lost pocket-book. I'll +watch the pit, and if anybody goes down it I'll arrest him." + +"If the attempt is made it will not be in daytime--it will be in the +night, you may be sure of that. I want you to watch the pit at night. +The life of an innocent man may depend on your vigilance. It will only +be for two nights, or three at the most. I shall certainly return within +three days." + +"You may depend on me," replied the constable. "I will go to the pit as +soon as it grows dark, and watch from the edge of the wood till +daylight." + +"Thank you," said Colwyn. "I felt sure you would do it when you knew +what was at stake. I have an idea that your vigil will not be +disturbed, but I want to be on the safe side. I suppose you are not +afraid of the ghost?" + +"You have heard of the White Lady of the Shrieking Pit?" said +Queensmead, looking at the other curiously. + +"I have heard of her, but I have not heard her, or seen her. Have you?" + +"I cannot say I have, but I live at the wrong end of the village, and I +never go out at night. But there are plenty of villagers, principally +customers of the _Anchor_, who are prepared to take their Bible oath +that they have heard her--if not seen her. The White Lady has terrorised +the whole village--since the murder." + +There was something in the tone of the last three words which attracted +the detective's attention. + +"There was not much talk of the ghost before the murder, then?" he +asked. + +"Very little. I have been stationed here for two years, and hardly knew +of its existence. Of course, it's a deep-rooted local tradition, and +every villager has heard the story in childhood, and most of them +believe it. Many of them actually think they have heard moans and +shrieks coming from the rise during this last week or so. It's a lonely +sort of place, with very little to talk about; it doesn't take much to +get a story like that going round." + +"Then you think there is some connection between the reappearance of the +ghost and the hiding of the money in the pit it is supposed to haunt?" + +"It's not my business to draw inferences of that kind, sir. I leave that +to my betters, if they think fit to do so. I am only the village +constable." + +"But you've already inferred that the legend has been spread round again +by means of gossip at the _Anchor_. Was it started there?" + +"It was and it wasn't. A fool of a fellow named Backlog burst into the +tap-room one night and said he had heard the White Lady shrieking, and +Charles--that's the waiter--declared that he had seen something white +the same night. That was the start of the business." + +"So I have heard. But what has kept it going ever since?" + +"Well, from what I hear--I never go to the inn myself, but a local +policeman learns all the gossip in a small place like this--the subject +is brought up in the bar-room every evening, either by the innkeeper or +Charles, and discussed till closing time, when the silly villagers go +home, huddled together like a flock of sheep, not daring to look round +for fear of seeing the White Lady." + +"Do Benson and Charles both believe in the ghost?" + +"It seems as if they do." The constable's voice was noncommittal. + +As Colwyn rose to go, Queensmead looked at him with a trace of +hesitation in his manner. + +"Perhaps you'd answer me a question, sir," he said in a low tone, as +though afraid of being overheard. "That greenery that grows inside the +pit, by which you climbed down, will it support a heavy weight?" + +"It will hold a far heavier man than you, if you are thinking of making +the descent," said Colwyn laughingly. "It's a case of unity is strength. +The tendrils of the climbing plants are so twisted together that they +are as tough as ropes." + +"Thank you. What time will you reach here when you return?" + +"Probably not before dusk, but certainly by then. In the meantime, of +course, you will not breathe a word of this to anybody." + +"I am not likely to do that. I shall keep a close watch on the pit till +I see you again." + +"That's right. Good day." + +"Good day, sir." + +It still wanted a few minutes to seven when Colwyn returned to the inn. +The front door was as he had left it, closed, but unlocked. The house +was silent: nobody was yet stirring. He locked the door after him, and +proceeded to his room, pleased to think he had not been seen going or +coming. His first act on reaching his room was to lock the door and +count the money in the pocket-book. The money was all in single Treasury +notes, with one five-pound note. The case contained nothing else except +a faded newspaper clipping on Fossil Sponges. Colwyn replaced the notes, +and put the case in an inside breast pocket. He next performed the best +kind of toilet the primitive resources of the inn permitted, and +occupied himself for an hour or so in completing his notes of his +investigations. + +While he was breakfasting he saw the innkeeper passing the half-open +door, and he called him into the room and told him to let him have his +bill without delay, as he was returning to Durrington that morning. The +innkeeper made no comment on hearing his guest's intention, and Charles +brought in the bill a little later. Colwyn, as he paid it, casually +asked Charles if he happened to know the time of the morning trains from +Heathfield. + +"There's one to Durrington at eleven o'clock, sir," said the waiter, +consulting a greasy time-table. "There's one at 9:30, but it's a good +long walk to the station, and you could not catch it because there's no +way of getting there except by walking, as you know, sir." + +"The eleven o'clock train will suit me," said Colwyn, consulting his +watch. + +"Shall I go and get your bag, sir?" + +"No, thanks, I've not packed it yet." + +Colwyn went upstairs shortly afterwards determined to pack his bag and +leave the place as soon as possible. As he was about to enter his room +he saw Peggy appear at the end of the passage. She looked at him with a +timid, wistful smile, and made a step towards him, as though she would +speak to him. Colwyn pretended not to see her, and hurried into his room +and shut the door. How could he tell her what she had so innocently done +in recalling him to the inn? How inform her what the cost of saving her +lover would be to her? Somebody else must break the news to her, when it +came to that. He packed his things quickly, anxious only to leave a +place which had grown repugnant to him, and to drop the dissimulation +which had become hateful. Never had he so acutely realised how little a +man is master of his actions when entangled in the strange current of +Destiny which men label Chance. + +When he emerged from the room with his bag, Peggy was no longer visible. +The innkeeper was standing in the passage as he went downstairs, and +Colwyn nodded to him as he passed. He breathed easier in the fresh +morning air, and set out briskly for the station. + +He reached Heathfield an hour later, and found he had nearly half an +hour to wait for his train. The first ten minutes of that time he +utilised despatching two telegrams. One was to the chief constable of +Norfolk, at Norwich, and the other to Mr. Oakham, in London. In the +latter telegram he indicated that fresh discoveries had come to light in +Penreath's case, and he asked the solicitor to go as soon as possible to +Norwich where he would await him at his hotel. + + + +CHAPTER XXII + + +Colwyn reached Durrington by midday, and proceeded to the hotel for his +letters and lunch. After a cold meal served by a shivering waiter in the +chilly dining room he went to the garage where he had left his car, and +set out for Norwich. He arrived at the cathedral city late in the +afternoon, and drove to the hotel where Mr. Oakham had stayed. While +engaging a room, he told the clerk that he expected Mr. Oakham from +London, and asked to be informed immediately he arrived. After making +these arrangements the detective left the hotel and went to the city +library, where he spent the next couple of hours making notes from legal +statutes and the Criminal Appeal Act. + +When he returned to the hotel for dinner the clerk informed him that Mr. +Oakham had arrived a short time previously, and had requested that Mr. +Colwyn would join him at dinner. Colwyn proceeded to the dining-room, +and saw Mr. Oakham dining in solitary state at a large table, reading a +London evening newspaper between the courses. He looked up as Colwyn +approached, and rose and shook hands. + +"This is an unexpected pleasure," said the detective. "I hardly thought +you would get here before the morning." + +"I had arranged to visit Norwich to-morrow, but in view of the urgent +nature of your telegram I decided to catch the afternoon train instead," +replied the solicitor. "Will you dine with me, Mr. Colwyn, and we can +talk business afterwards." + +Colwyn complied, and when the meal was finished, Mr. Oakham turned to +him with an eagerness which he did not attempt to conceal, and said: + +"Now for your news, Mr. Colwyn. But, first, where shall we talk?" + +"As well here as anywhere. There is nobody within hearing." + +The solicitor followed his glance round the almost empty dining-room, +and nodded acquiescence. Drawing his chair a little nearer the +detective, he begged him to begin. + +"I have not very much to tell you--at present. But since the conviction +of your client, James Ronald Penreath, I have been back to the inn where +the murder was committed, and I have discovered fresh evidence which +strengthens considerably my original belief that Penreath is an innocent +man. But I have reached a stage in my investigations when I need your +assistance in completing my task before I go to the authorities with my +discoveries. It is hardly necessary for me to tell a man of your +experience that it is one of the most difficult things in the world to +upset a jury's verdict in a case of murder." + +"What have you discovered?" + +"This, for one thing." Colwyn produced the pocket-book, and displayed +the contents on the table. "This is the murdered man's pocket-book, +containing the missing notes which Penreath is supposed to have murdered +him for. The prosecution dropped the charge of robbery, but the theft +formed an important part of the Crown theory of the crime, as +establishing motive." + +"Where did you find this pocket-book?" + +"Suspended by a piece of cord, half way down the pit where the body was +flung." + +"It's an interesting discovery," replied Mr. Oakham thoughtfully +tapping his nose with his gold-rimmed eye-glasses as he stared at the +black pocket-book on the white tablecloth. "Speaking personally, it is +proof of what I have thought all along, that a Penreath of Twelvetrees +would not commit a robbery. Therefore, on that line of reasoning, one +could argue that as Penreath did not commit the robbery, and the Crown +hold that the murder was committed for the money, Penreath must be +innocent. But the Crown is more likely to hold that as Penreath threw +the body in the pit, he concealed the money there afterwards, and was +hiding in the wood to recover it when he was arrested. The real point +is, Mr. Colwyn, can you prove that it was not Mr. Penreath who placed +the money in the pit?" + +"I believe I can prove, at all events, that it was not Penreath who +threw the body into the pit." + +"You can! Then who was it?" + +"I am not prepared to answer that question at the moment. During my +visit to the inn I made a number of other discoveries besides that of +the pocket-book, which, though slight in themselves, all fit in with my +present theory of the murder. But before disclosing them, I want to +complete my investigations by testing my theory to the uttermost. It is +just possible that I may be wrong, though I do not think so. When I have +taken the additional step which completes my investigations, I will go +to the chief constable, reconstruct the crime for him as I see it now, +and ask him to take action." + +"Then why have you sent for me?" + +"To help me to complete my task. Part of my theory is that Penreath is +deliberately keeping silent to shield some one else. The solicitor of a +convicted man has access to him even when he is condemned to death. I +want you to take me with you to see Penreath." + +"For what purpose?" + +"In order to get him to speak." + +"It would be quite useless." The lawyer spoke in some agitation. "I have +seen him twice since the verdict, and implored him to speak if he has +anything to say, but he declared that he had nothing to say." + +"Nevertheless, I shall succeed where you have failed. Penreath is an +innocent man." + +"Then why does he not speak out, even now--more so now than ever?" + +"He has his reasons, and they seem sufficient to him to keep him silent +even under the shadow of the gallows." + +"And why do you think he will confide them to you, when he refuses to +divulge them to his professional adviser?" + +"He will not willingly reveal them to me. My hope of getting his story +depends entirely upon my success in springing a surprise upon him. That +is one of my reasons for not telling you more just now. The mere fact +that you knew would hamper my handling a difficult situation. The +slightest involuntary gesture or look might put him on his guard, and +the opportunity would be lost. It is not absolutely essential that I +should gain Penreath's statement before going to the police, but if his +statement coincides with my theory of the crime it will strengthen my +case considerably when I reconstruct the crime for the police." + +"Your way of doing business strikes me as strange, Mr. Colwyn," said the +solicitor stiffly. "As Mr. Penreath's professional adviser, surely I am +entitled to your fullest confidence. You are asking me to behave in a +very unprofessional way, and take a leap in the dark. There are proper +ways of doing things. I will be frank with you. I have come to Norwich +in order to urge Penreath for the last time to permit me to lodge an +appeal against his conviction. That interview has been arranged to take +place in the morning." + +"Has he previously refused to appeal?" + +"He has--twice." + +"May I ask on what grounds you are seeking permission to appeal?" + +"If he consents, my application to the Registrar would be made under +Section Four of the Criminal Appeal Act," was the cautious reply. + +"That means you are persisting in your original defence--that Penreath +is guilty, but insane. Therefore your application for leave to appeal +against the sentence on the ground of insanity only enables you to +appeal to the Court to quash the sentence on the ground that Penreath is +irresponsible for his acts. Even if you succeed in your appeal he will +be kept in gaol as a criminal lunatic. In a word, you intend to persist +in a defence which, as I told you before the trial, had very little +chance of success. In my opinion it has no more chance of success before +the Court of Appeal. You have not sufficient evidence for a successful +defence on the grounds of insanity. The judge, in his summing up at the +trial, was clearly of the opinion that Sir Henry Durwood was wrong in +thinking Penreath insane, and he directed the jury accordingly. + +"In my opinion the judge was right. I do not think Penreath is insane, +or even subject to fits of impulsive insanity. If you ask my opinion, I +think he is still suffering from the effects of shell shock, and, like +many other brave men who have been similarly affected, he endeavoured to +conceal the fact. I have come to the conclusion that Penreath's peculiar +conduct at the Durrington hotel, on which Sir Henry based his theory of +_furor epilepticus_, was nothing more than the combined effect of +mental worry and an air raid shock on a previously shattered nervous +system. Penreath is a sane man--as sane as you or I--and my late +investigations at the scene of the murder have convinced me that he is +an innocent man also. The question is, are you going to allow +professional etiquette to stand in the way of proving his innocence?" + +"But you have not shown me anything to convince me that he _is_ an +innocent man. Your statement comes as a great surprise to me, and you +cannot expect that I should credit your bare assumption. It would be +exceedingly difficult to believe without the most convincing proofs, +which you have not brought forward. I prepared the case for the defence +at the trial, and I only permitted that defence to be put forward +because there was no other course--the evidence was so overwhelming, and +Penreath's obstinate silence in the face of it pointed so conclusively +to his guilt." + +"Nevertheless, you were wrong. The question is, are you going to help me +undo that wrong?" + +"You have not yet proved to me that it is a wrong," quibbled the +solicitor. + +"Mr. Oakham, let me make this quite clear to you," said the detective +sternly. "I have sent for you out of courtesy, because, as I said +before, I like to do things in a regular way. As you force me to speak +plainly, there is another reason, which is that I did not wish to make +you look small, or injure your professional reputation, by acting +independently of you. It would be a bad advertisement for Oakham and +Pendules if it got abroad--as it assuredly will if you persist in your +attitude--that an innocent client of yours was almost sent to the +gallows through your wrong defence at his trial. It is in your hands to +prevent such a scandal from becoming public property. But if you are +going to stand on professional etiquette it is just as well you should +understand that I am quite prepared to act independently of you. I have +sufficient influence to obtain an order from the governor of the gaol +for an interview with the condemned man, and I shall do so. I have +discovered sufficient additional evidence in this case to save Penreath, +and I am going to save him, with or without your assistance. You have +had your way--it was a wrong way. Now I am going to have my way. I only +ask you to trust me for a few hours. After I have seen Penreath you are +at liberty to accompany me to the chief constable, to whom I shall tell +everything. That is my last word." + +"I will do as you ask, Mr. Colwyn," replied the solicitor, after a short +pause. "Not because I am apprehensive of the consequences, but because +you have convinced me that it would be foolish and wrong on my part to +place any obstacles in the way of establishing my client's innocence, +even if it is only the smallest chance. You must forgive my hesitation. +I am an old man, and your story has been such a shock that I am unable +to realise it yet. But I will not stand on punctilio when it is a +question of trying to save a Penreath of Twelvetrees from the gallows. I +think I can arrange it with the governor of the gaol to permit you to +accompany me when I see Penreath in the morning. That interview is to +take place at twelve o'clock. We can go together from here to the gaol, +if that will suit you." + +"That will suit me excellently. And before that interview takes place I +should be glad if you would tell me the facts of Penreath's engagement +to Miss Willoughby." + +"I really know very little about it," said Mr. Oakham, looking somewhat +surprised at the question. "I have heard, though, that Penreath met +Miss Willoughby in London before the war, and became engaged after a +very brief acquaintance. Ill-natured people say that the girl's aunt +threw her at Penreath's head. The aunt is a Mrs. Brewer, a wealthy +manufacturer's widow, a pushing nobody----" + +"I have met her." + +"I had forgotten. Well, you know that type of woman, with an itch to get +into Society. Perhaps she thought that the marriage of her niece to a +Penreath of Twelvetrees would open doors for her. At any rate, I +remember there was a great deal of tittle-tattle at the time to the +effect that she manoeuvred desperately hard to bring about the +engagement. On the other hand, there can be no harm in stating now that +Ronald Penreath's father was almost equally keen on that match for +monetary reasons. The Penreaths are far from wealthy. From that point of +view the match seemed suitable enough--money on one side, and birth and +breeding on the other. I am not sure that there was very much love in +the case, or that the young people's feelings were deeply involved on +either side. There is no reason why I should not mention these things +now, for the match has been broken off. It was broken off shortly after +Penreath's arrest." + +"By the young lady?" + +"By the aunt, in her presence. It happened the day after they went to +Heathfield to identify Penreath. Mrs. Brewer was furious about the whole +business as soon as she ascertained that it wasn't a mistake, as she had +hoped at first, and that there was likely to be much unpleasant +publicity over it. She said she would never be able to hold up her head +in Society after the disgrace, and all that sort of thing. It all came +about through my asking Miss Willoughby if she would like to see her +lover while he was awaiting trial. The girl replied, coldly enough, that +it would be time enough to see him after he had cleared himself of the +dreadful charge hanging over his head. By the way she spoke she seemed +to think herself a deeply injured person, as perhaps she was. Then the +aunt had her say, and insisted that I must tell Penreath the engagement +was broken off. I asked Miss Willoughby if that was her wish also, and +she replied that it was. I told Penreath the following day, but I do not +think that it worried him very much." + +"I do not think it would," replied Colwyn with a smile. + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + + +Colwyn found Mr. Oakham awaiting him in the hotel lobby, a little before +eleven the following morning, to inform him that the necessary +arrangements had been made to enable him to be present at his interview +with Penreath. Colwyn forbore to ask him on what pretext he had obtained +the gaol governor's consent to his presence, but merely signified that +he was ready. Mr. Oakham replied that they had better go at once, and +asked the porter to call a taxi. + +On arriving at the gaol they passed through the double entrance gates, +Mr. Oakham turned to a door on the left just within the gates, and +entered. The door opened into a plainly furnished office, with walls +covered with prison regulations. Behind a counter, at a stand-up desk +opposite the door, a tall burly man in a uniform of blue and silver was +busily writing in a large ledger. Ranged in rows, on hooks alongside +him, were bunches of immense keys, and as he turned to attend to Oakham +and Colwyn another bunch of similar keys could be seen dangling at his +side. Mr. Oakham explained the purpose of their visit, and produced the +order for the interview. The functionary in blue and silver, who was the +entrance gaoler, perused it attentively, and pushed over two forms for +the solicitor and the detective to fill in. It was the last formality +that the law insisted on--a grim form of visiting card whereon the +visitor inscribes his name and business, which is sent to the condemned +man, who must give his consent to the interview before it is granted. + +When Mr. Oakham and Colwyn had filled in their forms the entrance gaoler +took them and pulled a rope. Somewhere in a corridor a bell clanged, and +a moment afterwards a gaoler opened a small door on the other side of +the counter. The entrance gaoler gave him the forms, and he disappeared +with them. There ensued a long period of waiting, and nearly half an +hour elapsed before he reappeared again, accompanied by a warder. The +blue and silver functionary silently lifted the flap of the counter, and +beckoned Mr. Oakham and Colwyn to accompany the warder through the small +door at the other end of the room. + +They went through and the bell clanged once more as the door closed +behind them. The warder took them along a corridor to a door at the +farther end, and ushered them into a room--a large apartment, not unlike +a board room, furnished with a table and chairs ranged on each side. It +was the governor of the gaol's room, where the interview was to take +place. Colwyn took one of the chairs at the table, Mr. Oakham took +another, and silently they awaited the coming of the condemned man. + +Another quarter of an hour elapsed before the door at the other end of +the room opened, and Penreath appeared between two warders. They +conducted him to the table, and placed a chair for him. With a quick +glance at his visitors he sat down, and the warders seated themselves on +each side of him. The warder who had brought the visitors in then nodded +to Mr. Oakham, as an indication that the interview might begin. + +In the brief glance that the young man cast at his visitors Colwyn +observed both calmness of mind and self-possession. Although deep +shadows under the eyes and the tenseness of the muscles round the mouth +revealed sleepless nights and mental agony, Penreath's face showed no +trace of insanity or the guilty consciousness of evil deeds, but had the +serene expression of a man who had fought his battle and won it. + +Mr. Oakham began the interview with him in a dry professional way, as +though it were an interview between solicitor and client in the sanctity +of a private room, with no hearers. And, indeed, the prison warders +sitting there with the impassive faces of officialdom might have been +articles of furniture, so remote were they from displaying the slightest +interest in the private matters discussed between the two. No doubt they +had been present at many similar scenes, and custom is a deadening +factor. Mr. Oakham's object was to urge his client to consent to the +lodgement of an appeal against the jury's verdict, and to that end he +advanced a multitude of arguments and a variety of reasons. The young +man listened patiently, but when the solicitor had concluded he shook +his head with a gesture of finality which indicated an unalterable +refusal. + +"It's no use, Oakham," he said. "My mind is quite made up. I'm obliged +to you for all the trouble you have taken in my case, but I cannot alter +my decision. I shall go through with it--to the end." + +"In that case it is no use my urging you further." Mr. Oakham spoke +stiffly, and put his eye-glasses in his pocket with an air of vexation. +"Mr. Colwyn has something to say to you on the subject. Perhaps you will +listen to him. He believes he can help you." + +"He helped to arrest me," said Penreath, with a slight indifferent look +at the detective. + +"But not to convict you," said Colwyn. "I had hoped to help you." + +"What do you want of me?" Penreath's tone was cold. + +"In the first place, I have to say that I believe you innocent." + +The young man lifted his eyebrows slightly, as if to indicate that the +other's opinion was a matter of indifference to him, but he remained +silent. + +"I have come to beg of you, even at this late hour, to break your +silence, and give an account of your actions that night at the inn." + +"You might have saved yourself the trouble of coming here. I have +nothing whatever to say." + +"That means that you continue in your refusal to speak. Will you answer +one or two questions?" + +"No." + +"Will you not tell me why you kept silence about what you saw in Mr. +Glenthorpe's room that night of the murder?" + +"Man, how did you find that out?" Penreath's calm disappeared in a +sudden fury of voice and look. "What do you know?" + +"I know whom you are trying to shield," replied the detective, with his +eyes fixed on Penreath's face. "You are wrong. She----" + +"I beg of you to be silent! Do not mention names, for God's sake." +Penreath's face had grown suddenly white. + +"It is in your power to ensure my silence." + +"How?" + +"By speaking yourself." + +"That I will never do." + +"Then you compel me to go to the authorities and tell them what I have +discovered. I will save you in spite of yourself." + +"Do you think that I want to be saved--like that?" + +Struggling desperately for self-control Penreath turned to Mr. Oakham. +"Why did you bring Mr. Colwyn here?" he asked the solicitor fiercely. +"To torture me?" + +Before Mr. Oakham could reply Colwyn laughed aloud. A clear ringing +laugh of unmistakable satisfaction. The laugh sounded strangely +incongruous in such a place. + +"Penreath," he said, "you've told me all that I came here to know. +You're a splendid young Briton, but finesse is not your strong point. +You've acted like a quixotic young idiot in this case, and got yourself +into a nice muddle for nothing. The girl is as innocent as you are, and +you are a pair of simpletons! Yes. I mean what I say," continued the +detective, answering the young man's amazed look with a reassuring +smile. "Do you think that I would want to save you at her expense? Now +perhaps, when I have told you what happened that night, you will answer +a few questions. Before you went to bed you sat down and wrote a letter +on a leaf torn from your pocket-book. That letter was to Miss +Willoughby, breaking off your engagement. After writing it you went to +bed. At that time it was raining hard. + +"You must have fallen asleep almost immediately, and slept for half an +hour--perhaps a little more--for when you awoke the rain had ceased. You +heard a slight noise in your room, and lit your candle to see what it +was. There was a rat in the corner of the room. You got up to throw +something at it, but as soon as you moved the rat darted across the room +and disappeared behind the wardrobe at the side of the bed. You pushed +back the wardrobe and----" + +"For God's sake, say no more!" said Penreath. His face was grey, and he +was staring at the detective with the eyes of a man who saw his heart's +secret--the secret for which he was prepared to die--being dragged out +into the light of day. "How did you learn all this?" + +"That does not matter much just now. What you saw through the wall made +you determine to leave the house as speedily as possible, and also +caused you to destroy the letter you had written to Miss Willoughby. + +"You were wrong in what you did. In the first place, you misinterpreted +what you saw through the door in the wall. By thinking Peggy guilty and +leaving the inn early in the morning, you not only wronged her +grievously, but brought suspicion on yourself. Peggy's presence in the +room was quite by accident. She had gone to ask Mr. Glenthorpe to assist +you in your trouble, by lending you money, and, finding the door open, +she impulsively went in and found him dead--murdered. And at the bedside +she picked up the knife--the knife you had used at dinner--and this." + +Colwyn produced Penreath's match-box from his pocket and laid it on the +table in front of him. + +"Because of the knife and this match-box she thought you guilty." + +"I! Why I never left my room after I went into it," exclaimed Penreath. +"I left the match-box in the room where I had dined with Mr. Glenthorpe. +When I awoke after falling asleep, and heard the noise in the room--just +as you describe--I could not find my match-box when I wanted a match to +light my candle, then I remembered that I had left it in the +sitting-room on the mantelpiece. I happened to find a loose match in my +vest pocket." + +"Peggy came to see me at my hotel, after the trial, and told me all she +knew," continued Colwyn. "It was well she did, for my second visit to +the inn brought to light a number of facts which will enable me to +establish your innocence." + +"And what about the real murderer?" asked Penreath, in a hesitating +voice, without looking at the detective. + +"We will not go into that just now, unless you have anything to tell me +that will throw further light on the events of the night." Colwyn shot a +keen, questioning glance at the young man. + +"I will answer any questions you wish to put to me. It is the least I +can do after having made such a fool of myself. It was the shock of +seeing Peggy in the room that robbed me of my judgment. I should have +known her better, but you must remember that I had no idea she was in +the house until I looked through the door in the wall which I had +accidentally discovered, and saw her standing at the bedside, with the +knife in her hand. I started to follow her home that day because I +wished to know more about her. I lost my way in the mist. I met a man on +the marshes who directed me to the village and the inn." + +"When she heard your voice, and saw you going upstairs, she waited about +in the hope of seeing you before she went to bed, as she wished to avoid +meeting you in the presence of her father. When she saw Mr. Glenthorpe's +door open she acted on a sudden impulse, and went in." + +"I have been rightly punished for my stupidity and my folly," said +Penreath. "I have wronged her beyond forgiveness." + +"You really have not much to blame yourself for except your obstinate +silence. That was really too quixotic, even if things had been as you +imagined. No man is justified in sacrificing his life foolishly. And you +had much to live for. You had your duty to do in life. Nobody knew that +better than you--a soldier who had served his country gallantly and +well. In fact, your silence has been to me one of the puzzles of this +case, and even now it seems to me that you must have had a deeper motive +than that of shielding the girl, because you could have asserted your +innocence without implicating her." + +"You are a very clever man, Colwyn," said the other slowly. "There was +another reason for my silence." + +"What was it?" + +"I am supposed to be an epileptic. I happen to know a little of the +course of that frightful disease, and it seemed to me that it was better +to die--even at the hands of the hangman--than to live on to be a burden +to my friends and relations, particularly when by dying I could shield +the girl I loved. That is why I was glad when the plea put up for my +defence failed. I preferred to die rather than live branded as a +criminal lunatic. So, you see, it was not such a great sacrifice on my +part, after all." + +"What brought you back to the wood where you were arrested?" + +"To see her. I do not know if I wanted to speak to her; but I wanted +above all things to see her once again. When I left the inn that morning +I had no idea that I might fall under suspicion for having committed the +murder, but I was desperately unhappy after what I had seen the night +before, and I didn't care what I did or where I went. Instead of walking +back to Durrington I struck across the marshes in the opposite +direction. I walked along all day, through a desolate area of marshes, +meeting nobody except an old eel fisherman in the morning, and, later +on, a labourer going home from his work. I was very tired when I saw the +labourer, and I asked him to direct me to some place where I could +obtain rest and refreshment. He pointed to a short cut across the +marshes, which, he said, led to a hamlet with an inn. I went along the +path he had pointed out, but I lost my way in the gathering darkness. +After wandering about the marshes for some time I saw the light of a +cottage window some distance off, and went there to inquire my way. The +occupant, an old peasant woman, could not have heard anything about the +murder, for she was very kind to me, and gave me tea and food. +Afterwards I set out for the inn again, and when I reached the road I +sat down by the side of it to rest awhile. + +"While I was sitting there two men came along. They did not see me in +the dark, and I heard them talking about the murder, and from what they +said I knew that I was suspected, and that the whole country side was +searching for me. It seemed incredible to me, and my first instinct was +to fly. I sat there until the men's voices died away in the distance, +then I turned off the road, and hurried across some fields, looking for +a place to hide. After walking some distance I came to a large barn, +standing by itself. The door was open, and I went in. I had no matches, +but I felt some hay or straw on the floor. I lay down and pulled some +over me, and fell fast asleep. + +"I had only intended to rest in the barn for a while, but I was so tired +that I slept all night. When I awoke it was broad daylight. I did not +know where I was at first, but it all came back to me, and I started up +in a fright, determined to leave the barn as quickly as possible, for I +knew it was an unsafe hiding place, and likely to be searched at any +time. But before I could get away I heard loud voices approaching, and I +knew I should be seen. I looked hastily around for some place of +concealment. It was just a big empty shed with one or two shelves +covered with apples, and a lot of straw on the floor. In desperation, +as the voices came nearer, I lay down on the floor again, and pulled +straw over me till I was completely hidden from view. + +"The door opened, and some men looked in. Through the straw that covered +me I could see them quite distinctly--three fishermen and a farm +labourer--though apparently they couldn't see me. From their +conversation I gathered that they formed part of a search party looking +for me, and had been told off to search the barn. This apparently they +were not anxious to do, for they merely peeped in at the door, and one +of them, in rather a relieved tone, said I wasn't in there, wherever I +was. One of the fishermen replied that he expected that I was far enough +off by that time. They stood at the door for a few moments, talking +about the murder, and then they went away. + +"I stayed in the barn all day, but nobody else came near me. When it was +dark, I filled my pockets with apples from the shelves, and went out. I +wandered about all night, and found myself close to a railway station at +daybreak. I had been in that part of the country before, so I knew where +I was--not far from Heathfield, with Flegne about three miles away +across the fields. The country was nearly all open, and consequently +unsafe. As I walked through a field I spied a little hut, almost hidden +from view in a clump of trees. The door was open, and I could see it was +empty. I went in, lay down, and fell fast asleep. + +"When I awoke it was getting dusk. I was very stiff and cold, so I +started out walking again to get myself warm. It was then, I remember +well, that the longing came over me to see Peggy again. I cursed myself +for my weakness, knowing what I knew--or thought I knew, God forgive +me. + +"I found myself making my way back to Flegne as fast as my legs would +carry me--which wasn't very fast, because I was weak from want of food, +and so footsore that I could hardly stumble along. But I got over the +three miles somehow, and reached the wood, where I crawled into some +undergrowth, and lay there all night, sometimes dozing, sometimes wide +awake, and sometimes a bit light-headed, I think. It was there you found +me next day, and I was glad you did. I was about finished when I saw you +looking through the bushes and only too glad to come out. I didn't care +what happened to me then. And now, I have told you all." + +The young man, as he finished his story, buried his face in his hands, +as though overcome by the recollection of the mental anguish he had been +through, and what he had endured. + +"Not quite all, I think," said Colwyn, after a pause. + +"I have told you everything that counts," said Penreath, without looking +up. + +"You have not," replied the detective firmly. "You have not told me all +you saw when you were looking through the door between the two rooms the +night of the murder." + +Penreath raised his head and regarded the other with startled eyes. + +"What do you mean?" he said, in a whisper. + +"I mean that you have kept back that you saw the body removed," he said +grimly. + +"Are you a man or a wizard?" cried Penreath fiercely. "God! how did you +find that out?" + +"By guess work, if you like," responded the other coolly. "Listen to me! +There has been too much concealment about this case already, so let us +have no more of it. It was because of what you saw afterwards that your +suspicions were doubly fastened on the girl, is that not so? I thought +as much," he continued, as the other nodded without speaking. "How long +after Peggy left the room was it before the body was removed?" + +"Not very long," replied Penreath. "After she went out of the room I sat +on the bedside. I did not close the small door I had discovered, or +replace the wardrobe. I was too overwhelmed. In a little while--perhaps +ten minutes--I saw a light shine through the hole again. I went to it +and looked through--God knows why--and I saw somebody walking stealthily +into the room, carrying a candle. He went to the bedside and, with a +groan, lifted the body on to his shoulders, and carried it out of the +room. I crept to my door, and looked out and saw him descending the +stairs. God in heaven, what a horror, what a horror! + +"I waited to see no more. I shut the door in the wall, pulled the +wardrobe back into its place and determined to leave the accursed inn as +soon as it was daylight. In my cell at nights, when I hear the footsteps +of the warder sounding along the corridor and dying away in the +distance, it reminds me of how I stood at the door that night, listening +to the sound of the footsteps stumbling down the staircase." + +"You heard the footsteps distinctly, then?" said the detective. + +"Distinctly and clearly. The staircase is a stone one, as you know." + +"Did you put your boots out to be cleaned before you went to bed?" + +"Yes." + +"And were they there when you looked out of the door?" + +"I do not remember. But I know they were there in the morning, dirty +and covered with clay. I took them in, and was about to put them on, +when the servant knocked at the door with a cup of morning tea. I +answered the door with the boots in my hand. She offered to clean them +for me, and was taking them away, but I called her back and said I would +not wait for them. I was too anxious to get away from the place." + +"Do you remember when you lost the rubber heel of one of them?" + +"It must have been when I was walking the previous day. They were only +put on the day before. I happened to mention to a bootmaker at +Durrington that my left heel had become jarred with walking. He +recommended me to try rubber heels to lessen the strain, and he put them +on for me. I had never worn them before, and found them very +uncomfortable when I was walking along the marshes. They seemed to hold +and stick in the wet ground." + +"And now there are one or two other points I want you to make clear. Why +did you register in the name of James Ronald at the Durrington Hotel?" + +"That was merely a whim. I was disgusted with London and society after +my return from the front. Those who have been through this terrible war +learn to see most things at their true worth, and the frivolity, the +snobbishness, and the shams of London society at such a time sickened +and disgusted me. They tried to lionise me in drawing rooms and make me +talk for their entertainment. They put my photograph in the illustrated +papers, and interviewed me, and all that kind of thing. What had I done! +Nothing! Not a tithe of what thousands of better men are doing every day +out there. So I went away from it all. I had no intention, when I went +into the hotel, of not registering in my full name though. That came +about in a peculiar way. It was the first registration form I had +seen--it was the first hotel I had stayed at after nearly eighteen +months at the front--and I put down my two christian names, James +Ronald, in the wrong space, the space for the surname, which is the +first column. I saw my error as I glanced over the form, but the girl, +thinking I had filled it up, took it away from me. It then struck me +that it was just as well to let it go; it would prevent my being worried +by fools." + +"And how came it that you ran so short of money that you had to leave +the hotel?" + +"I have practically nothing except what my father allows me, and which +is paid quarterly through his bankers in London. I left London with a +few pounds in my pocket, and thought no more about money until the hotel +proprietor stopped me one morning and asked me politely to discharge my +bill, as I was a stranger to him. It was then that I first realised the +difference between a name like Penreath of Twelvetrees and plain James +Ronald. I was furious, and told him he should have the money in two +days, as soon as I could communicate with my London bankers. I wrote +straight away, and asked them to send me some money. The money came, the +morning I was turned out of the hotel; I saw the letter in the rack, +addressed to J. R. Penreath, but what good was that to me? I could not +claim it because I was booked in the name of James Ronald. I knew nobody +in the place to whom I could apply. I had some thoughts of confiding in +the hotel proprietor, but one look at his face was sufficient to put +that out of the question. + +"So I went in to breakfast, desperately angry at being treated so, and +feeling more than a little ill. You know what happened at the breakfast +table. I began to feel pretty seedy, and left my place to get to the +fresh air, when that doctor--Sir Henry Durwood--jumped up and grabbed +me. I tried to push him off, but he was too strong for me, and I found +myself going. The next thing I knew was that I was lying in my bedroom, +and hearing somebody talk. After you had left the room I determined to +leave the hotel as quickly as possible. I packed a small handbag, and +told the hotel-keeper on my way downstairs that he could keep my things +until I paid my bill. Then I walked to Leyland Hoop, where I had an +appointment with Peggy, as you know. I seem to have acted as a pretty +considerable ass all round," said the young man, with a rueful smile. +"But I had a bad gruelling from shell-shock. I wouldn't mention this, +but it's really affected my head, you know, and I don't think I'm always +quite such a fool as this story makes me appear to be." + +"And your nerves were a bit rattled by the Zeppelin raid at Durrington, +were they not?" said Colwyn sympathetically. + +"You seem to know everything," said the young man, flushing. "I am +ashamed to say that they were." + +"You have no cause to be ashamed," replied Colwyn gently. "The bravest +men suffer that way after shell-shock." + +"It's not a thing a man likes to talk about," said Penreath, after a +pause. "But if you have had experience of this kind of thing, will you +tell me if you have ever seen a man completely recover--from +shell-shock, I mean?" + +"I should say you will be quite yourself again shortly. There cannot be +very much the matter with your nerves to have stood the experience of +the last few weeks. After we get you out of here, and you have had a +good rest, you will be yourself again." + +"And what about this other thing--this _furor epilepticus_, whatever it +is?" asked Penreath, anxiously. + +"As you didn't murder anybody, you haven't had the epileptic fury," +replied Colwyn, laughing. + +"But Sir Henry Durwood said at the trial that I was an epileptic," +persisted the other. + +"He was wrong about the _furor epilepticus_, so it is just as likely +that he was wrong about the epilepsy. His theory was that you were going +to attack somebody at the breakfast table of the hotel, and you have +just told us that you had no intention of attacking anybody--that your +only idea was to get out of the room. You are neither an epileptic nor +insane, in my opinion, but at that time you were suffering from the +after effects of shell-shock. Take my advice, and forget all about the +trial and what you heard there, or, if you must think of it, remember +the excellent certificate of sanity and clear-headedness which the +doctors for the Crown gave you! When you get free I'll take you to half +a dozen specialists who'll probably confirm the Crown point of view." + +Penreath laughed for the first time. + +"You've made me feel like a new man," he said. "How can I thank you for +all you have done?" + +"The only way you can show your gratitude is by instructing Mr. Oakham +to lodge an appeal for you--at once. Have you the necessary forms with +you, Mr. Oakham?" + +"I have," said the solicitor, finding voice after a long silence. + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + + +Mr. Oakham did not discuss what had taken place in the prison as he and +Colwyn drove to the office of the chief constable after the interview. +He sat silent in his corner of the taxi, his hands clasped before him, +and gazing straight in front of him with the look of a man who sees +nothing. From time to time his lips moved after the fashion of the old, +when immersed in thought, and once he audibly murmured, "The poor lad; +the poor lad." Colwyn forbore to speak to him. He realised that he had +had a shock, and was best left to himself. + +By the time the taxi reached the office of the chief constable Mr. +Oakham showed symptoms of regaining his self-possession. He felt for his +eye-glasses, polished them, placed them on his nose and glanced at his +watch. It was in something like his usual tones that he asked Colwyn, as +they alighted from the cab, whether he had an appointment with the chief +constable. + +"I wired to you both at the same time," replied the detective. "I asked +him to keep this afternoon free," he explained with a smile. + +A police constable in the outer office took in their names. He speedily +returned with the message that the chief constable would be glad to see +them, and would they step this way, please. Following in his wake, they +were conducted along a passage and into a large comfortably furnished +room, where Mr. Cromering was writing at a small table placed near a +large fire. He looked up as the visitors entered, put down his pen, and +came forward to greet them. + +"I am pleased to see you again, Mr. Colwyn, and you also, Mr. Oakham. +Please draw your chairs near the fire gentlemen--there's a decided nip +in the air. I got your telegram, Mr. Colwyn, and I am at your disposal, +with plenty of time. Your telegram rather surprised me. What has +happened in the Glenthorpe case?" + +"Fresh facts have come to light--facts that tend to prove the innocence +of Penreath, who was accused and convicted for the murder." + +"Dear me! This is a very grave statement. What proofs have you?" + +"Sufficient to warrant further steps in the case. It is a long story, +but I think when you have heard it you will feel justified in taking +prompt action." + +Before Mr. Cromering could reply, the police constable who had shown in +Colwyn and Mr. Oakham entered the room and said that Superintendent +Galloway, from Durrington, was outside. + +"Bring him in, Johnson," said Mr. Cromering. He turned to Colwyn and +added: "When I received your telegram I telephoned to Galloway and asked +him to be here this afternoon. As he worked up the case against +Penreath, I thought it better that he should be present and hear what +you have to say. You have no objection, I suppose?" + +"On the contrary, I shall be very glad for Galloway to hear what I have +to say." + +The police constable returned, ushering in Superintendent Galloway, who +looked rather surprised when he saw his superior officer's visitors. He +nodded briefly to Colwyn, and looked inquiringly at the chief constable. + +"Mr. Colwyn has discovered some fresh facts in the Glenthorpe murder, +Galloway," explained Mr. Cromering. "I sent for you in order that you +might hear what they are." + +"What sort of facts?" asked Galloway, with a quick glance at the +detective. + +"That is what Mr. Colwyn proposes to explain to us." + +"I shall have to go back to the beginning of our investigations to do +so--to the day when we motored from Durrington to Flegne," said the +detective. "We went there with the strong presumption in our minds that +Penreath was the criminal, because of suspicious facts previously known +about him. He was short of money, he had concealed his right name when +registering at the hotel, and his behaviour at the breakfast table the +morning of his departure suggested an unbalanced temperament. It is a +legal axiom that men's minds are influenced by facts previously known or +believed, and we set out to investigate this case under the strong +presumption that Penreath, and none other, was the murderer. + +"The evidence we found during our visit to the inn fitted in with this +theory, and inclined the police to shut out the possibility of any +alternative theory because of the number of concurrent points which +fitted in with the presumption that Penreath was the murderer. There +was, first, the fact that the murderer had entered through the window. +Penreath had been put to sleep in the room next the murdered man, in an +unoccupied part of the inn, and could easily have got from one window to +the other without being seen or heard. Next was the fact that the murder +had been committed with a knife with a round end. Penreath had used such +a knife when dining with Mr. Glenthorpe, and that knife was afterwards +missing. Next, we have him hurriedly departing from the inn soon after +daybreak, refusing to wait till his boots were cleaned, and paying his +bill with a Treasury note. + +"Then came the discovery of the footprints to the pit where the body had +been thrown, and those footprints were incontestably made by Penreath's +boots. The stolen notes suggested a strong motive in the case of a man +badly in need of money, and the payment of his bill with a Treasury note +of the first issue suggested--though not very strongly--that he had +given the servant one of the stolen notes. These were the main points in +the circumstantial evidence against Penreath. The stories of the +landlord of the inn, the deaf waiter, and the servant supported that +theory in varying degrees, and afforded an additional ground for the +credibility of the belief that Penreath was the murderer. The final and +most convincing proof--Penreath's silence under the accusation--does not +come into the narrative of events at this point, because he had not been +arrested. + +"It was when we visited the murdered man's bedroom that the first doubts +came to my mind as to the conclusiveness of the circumstantial evidence +against Penreath. The theory was that Penreath, after murdering Mr. +Glenthorpe, put the body on his shoulder, and carried it downstairs and +up the rise to the pit. The murderer entered through the window--the +bits of red mud adhering to the carpet prove that conclusively +enough--but if Penreath was the murderer where had he got the umbrella +with which he shielded himself from the storm? The fact that the +murderer carried an umbrella is proved by the discovery of a small patch +of umbrella silk which had got caught on a nail by the window. Again, +why should a man, getting from one window to another, bother about using +an umbrella for a journey of a few feet only? He would know that he +could not use it when carrying the body to the pit, for that task would +require both his hands. And what had Penreath done with the umbrella +afterwards? + +"The clue of the umbrella silk, and the pool of water near the window +where the murderer placed the umbrella after getting into the room, +definitely fixed the time of the murder between eleven and 11.30 p.m., +because the violent rainstorm on that night ceased at the latter hour. +If Penreath was the murderer, he waited until the storm ceased before +removing the body. There were no footprints outside the window where the +murderer got in, because they were obliterated by the rain. On the other +hand, the footsteps to the pit where the body was thrown were clear and +distinct, proving conclusively that no rain fell after the murderer left +the house with his burden. It seemed to me unlikely that a man after +committing a murder would coolly sit down beside his victim and wait for +the rain to cease before disposing of the body. His natural instinct +would be to hide the evidence of his crime as quickly as possible. + +"These points, however, were of secondary importance, merely tending to +shake slightly what lawyers term the probability of the case against +Penreath. But a point of more importance was my discovery that the +candle-grease dropped on the carpet was of two different kinds--wax and +tallow--suggesting that two different persons were in the room on the +night of the murder. Mr. Glenthorpe did not use a candle, but a reading +lamp. Neither did Mr. Glenthorpe use the gas globe in the middle of the +room. Yet that gas tap was turned on slightly when we examined the room, +and the globe and the incandescent burner smashed. Who turned on the +tap, and who smashed the globe? Penreath is not tall enough to have +struck it with his head. Superintendent Galloway's theory was that it +might have been done by the murderer when throwing the body of his +victim over his shoulder. + +"An ideal case of circumstantial evidence may be weakened, but not +destroyed, by the destruction of one or more of the collateral facts +which go to make it up. There are two kinds of circumstantial evidence. +In one kind presumption of guilt depends on a series of links forming a +chain. In the other, the circumstances are woven together like the +strands of a rope. That is the ideal case of circumstantial evidence, +because the rope still holds when some of the strands are severed. The +case against Penreath struck me as resembling a chain, which is no +stronger than its weakest link. The strongest link in the chain of +circumstances against Penreath was the footprints leading to the pit. +They had undoubtedly been made by his boots, but circumstances can lie +as well as witnesses, and in both cases the most plausible sometimes +prove the greatest liars. Take away the clue of the footprints, and the +case against Penreath was snapped in the most vital link. The remaining +circumstances in the case against him, though suspicious enough, were +open to an alternative explanation. The footprints were the damning +fact--the link on which the remaining links of the chain were hung. + +"But the elimination of the clue of the footprints did not make the +crime any easier of solution. From the moment I set foot in the room it +struck me as a deep and baffling mystery, looking at it from the point +of view of the police theory or from any other hypothesis. If Penreath +had indeed committed the murder, who was the second visitor to the room? +And if Penreath had not committed the murder, who had? + +"That night, in my room, I sought to construct two alternative theories +of the murder. In the first place, I examined the case thoroughly from +the police point of view, with Penreath as the murderer. In view of what +has come to light since the trial, there is no need to take up time with +giving you my reasons for doubting whether Penreath had committed the +crime. I explained those reasons to Superintendent Galloway at the time, +pointing out, as he will doubtless remember, that the police theory +struck me as illogical in some aspects, and far from convincing as a +whole. There were too many elements of uncertainty in it, too much +guess-work, too much jumping at conclusions. Take one point alone, on +which I laid stress at the time. The police theory originally started +from the point of Penreath's peculiar behaviour at the Durrington hotel, +which, from their point of view, suggested homicidal mania. To my mind, +there was no evidence to prove this, although that theory was actually +put forth by the defence at Penreath's trial. I witnessed the scene at +the breakfast table, and, in my opinion, Sir Henry Durwood acted hastily +and wrongly in rushing forward and seizing Penreath. There was nothing +in his behaviour that warranted it. He was a little excited, and nothing +more, and from what I have heard since he had reason to be excited. +Neither at the breakfast table nor in his room subsequently did his +actions strike me as the actions of a man of insane, neurotic, or +violent temperament. He was simply suffering from nerves. It is +important to remember, in recalling the events which led up to this +case, that Penreath was invalided out of the Army suffering from +shell-shock, and that two nights before the scene at the hotel there was +an air raid at Durrington. Shell-shock victims are always prejudicially +affected by air raids. + +"Even if the police theory had been correct on this point, it seemed +inconceivable to me that a man affected with homicidal tendencies would +have displayed such cold-blooded caution and cunning in carrying out a +murder for gain, as the murderer at the _Golden Anchor_ did. The Crown +dropped this point at the trial. I merely mention it now in support of +my contention that the case of circumstantial evidence against Penreath +was by no means a strong one, because it originally depended, in part, +on inferred facts which the premises did not warrant. + +"Next, the discoveries made in the room where the murder was committed, +and certain other indications found outside, did not fit in with the +police case against Penreath. Superintendent Galloway's reconstruction +of the crime, after he had seen the body and examined the inn premises, +did not account for the existence of all the facts. There were +circumstances and clues which were not consistent with the police theory +of the murder. The probability of the inference that Penreath was the +murderer was not increased by the discoveries we made. I am aware that +absolute proof is not essential to conviction in a case of +circumstantial evidence, but, on the other hand, to ignore facts which +do not accord with a theory is to go to the other extreme, for by so +doing you are in danger of excluding the possibility of any alternative +theory. + +"On the other hand, when I sought to account for the crime by any other +hypothesis I found myself puzzled at every turn. The presence of two +persons in the room was the baffling factor. The murderer had entered +through the window in the storm, lighted the tallow candle which he +brought with him, walked straight to the bed and committed the murder. +Then he had waited till the rain ceased before carrying the body +downstairs to the pit. But what about the second person--the person who +had carried the wax candle and dropped spots of grease underneath the +broken gas globe? Had he come in at a different time, and why? Why had +he sought to light the gas, when he carried a candle? Why had he--as I +subsequently ascertained--left the room and gone downstairs to turn on +the gas at the meter? + +"Eliminating Penreath for the time being, I tried next to fit in the +clues I had discovered with two alternative theories. Had the murder +been committed from outside by a villager, or by somebody in the inn? +There were possibilities about the former theory which I pointed out to +Superintendent Galloway, who subsequently investigated them, and +declared that there was no ground for the theory that the murder had +been committed from outside. The theory that the murder had been +committed by somebody inside the inn turned my attention to the inmates +of the inn. Excluding Penreath for the time being, there were five +inmates inside the walls the night the murder was committed--the +innkeeper, his daughter, his mother, the waiter, and Ann, the servant. +The girl could hardly have committed the murder, and could certainly not +have carried away the body. The old mad woman might have committed the +murder if she could have got out of her room, but she could not have +carried the body to the pit--neither could the servant. By this process +of elimination there remained the landlord and the deaf waiter. + +"For a reason which it is not necessary to explain now, my thoughts +turned to the waiter when I first saw the body of the murdered man. The +possibility that he was the murderer was strengthened by the slight clue +of the line in the clay which I found underneath the murdered man's +bedroom window. That window is about five feet from the ground outside, +and the waiter, who is short and stout, could not have climbed through +the window without something to stand on. But the waiter could not +possibly have carried the body to the pit. His right arm is malformed, +and only a very strong man, with two strong arms, could have performed +that feat. + +"There remained the innkeeper. He was the only person on the inn +premises that night, except Penreath, who could have carried the corpse +downstairs and thrown it into the pit. Although thin, I should say he is +a man of great physical strength. It is astonishing to think, in looking +back over all the circumstances of this extraordinary case, that some +suspicion was not diverted to him in the first instance. He was very +hard-pressed for money, and he knew for days beforehand that Mr. +Glenthorpe was going to draw L300 from the bank--a circumstance that +Penreath could not possibly have known when he sought chance shelter at +the inn that night. He was the only person in the place tall enough to +have smashed the gas globe and incandescent burner in Mr. Glenthorpe's +room by striking his head against it. He knew the run of the place and +the way to the pit intimately--far better than a stranger like Penreath +could. I was struck with that fact when we were examining the +footprints. The undeviating course from the inn to the mouth of the pit +suggested an intimate acquaintance with the way. The man who carried the +body to the pit in the darkness knew every inch of the ground. + +"It is easy to be wise after the event, but my thoughts and suspicions +were centering more and more around the innkeeper when Penreath was +arrested. His attitude altered the whole aspect of the case. His +hesitating answers to me in the wood, his fatalistic acceptance of the +charge against him, seemed to me equivalent to a confession of guilt, +so I abandoned my investigations and returned to Durrington. + +"I was wrong. It was a mistake for which I find it difficult to forgive +myself. Penreath's hesitation, his silence--what were they in the +balance of probabilities in such a strange deep crime as this murder? In +view of the discoveries I had already made--discoveries which pointed to +a most baffling mystery--I should not have allowed myself to be swerved +from my course by Penreath's silence in the face of accusation, +inexplicable though it appeared at the time. You know what happened +subsequently. Penreath, persisting in his silence, was tried, convicted, +and sentenced to death--because of that silence, which compelled the +defence to rely on a defence of insanity which they could not sustain. + +"I went back to the inn a second time, not of my own volition, but +because of a story told me by the innkeeper's daughter, Peggy, at +Durrington four days ago. The night before the inquest Peggy paid a +visit to the room in which the murdered man lay. I did not see her go +in, but I saw her come out. She went downstairs and hurried across the +marshes and threw something into the sea from the top of the breakwater. +The following day, after Penreath's arrest, I questioned her. She gave +me an explanation which was hardly plausible, but Penreath's silence, +coming after the accumulation of circumstances against him, had caused +me to look at the case from a different angle, and I did not +cross-examine her. The object of her visit to me after the trial was to +admit that she had not told me the truth previously. Her amended story +was obviously the true one. She and Penreath had met by chance on the +seashore near Leyland Hoop two or three weeks before, and had met +secretly afterward. The subsequent actions of these two foolish young +people prove, convincingly enough, that they had fallen passionately in +love with each other. Peggy, however, had never told Penreath her name +or where she lived--because she knew her position was different from +his, she says--and she could not understand how he came to be at the inn +that night. Naturally, she was very much perturbed at his unexpected +appearance. She waited for an opportunity to speak to him after hearing +his voice, but was compelled to attend on her mad grandmother until it +was very late. + +"Before going to bed she went down the passage to see if by any chance +he had not retired. There was a light in Mr. Glenthorpe's room, and, +acting on a sudden girlish impulse, she ran along the passage to Mr. +Glenthorpe's door, intending to confide her troubles in one who had +always been very good and kind to her. The door was partly open, and as +she got no reply to her knock, she entered. Mr. Glenthorpe was lying on +his bed, murdered, and on the floor--at the side of the bed--she found +the knife and this silver and enamel match-box. She hid the knife behind +a picture on the wall. She did a very plucky thing the following night +by going into the dead man's room and removing the knife in order to +prevent the police finding it, for by that time she was aware that the +knife formed an important piece of evidence in the case against her +lover. It was the knife she threw into the sea, but she kept the +match-box, which she recognised as Penreath's. When she came to me she +did not intend to tell me anything about the match-box if she could help +it. She was frank enough up to a point, but beyond that point she did +not want to go. + +"After Penreath's conviction she began, womanlike, to wonder if she had +not been too hasty in assuming his guilt, and as the time slipped by and +brought the day of his doom nearer she grew desperate, and as a last +resource she came to me. It was a good thing she did so. For her story, +though apparently making the case against Penreath blacker still, +incidentally brought to light a clue which threw a new light on the case +and decided me to return to Flegne. That clue is contained in the +match-box." + + + +CHAPTER XXV + + +Colwyn opened the silver and enamel box, and emptied the matches on the +table. + +"I showed this match-box to Charles on my return to the inn, and he told +me that Penreath used it in the upstairs sitting-room the night he dined +there with Mr. Glenthorpe. Therefore, it is a reasonable deduction to +assume that he had no other matches in his possession the night of the +murder. + +"This fact is highly significant, because the matches in Penreath's +silver box are, as you see, blue-headed wax matches, whereas the matches +struck in Mr. Glenthorpe's room on the night of the murder were of an +entirely different description--wooden matches with pink heads, of +British manufacture--so-called war matches, with cork pine sticks. The +sticks of these matches break rather easily unless they are held near +the head. Two broken fragments of this description of match, with +unlighted heads, were found in Mr. Glenthorpe's room the morning after +the murder. Superintendent Galloway picked up one by the foot of the +bed, and I picked up the other under the broken gas-globe. The recovery +of Penreath's match-box in the murdered man's room suggested several +things. In the first place, if he had no other matches in his possession +except those in his silver and enamel box, he was neither the murderer +nor the second person who visited the room that night. But if my +deduction about the matches was correct, how was it that his match-box +was found in the murdered man's room? The inference is that Penreath +left his match-box in the dining room after lighting his candle before +going to bed, and the murderer found it and took it into Mr. +Glenthorpe's bedroom to point suspicion towards Penreath. + +"This fact opened up a new possibility about the crime--the possibility +that Penreath was the victim of a conspiracy. When we were examining the +footprints which led to the pit, the possibility of somebody else having +worn Penreath's boots occurred to me, because I have seen that trick +worked before, but the servant's story suggested that Penreath did not +put his boots outside his door to be cleaned, but came to the door with +them in his hand in the morning. But Penreath told me this morning that +he put out his boots overnight to be cleaned, but had taken them back +into his room before Ann brought up his tea. The murderer, therefore, +had ample opportunity to use them for his purpose of carrying the body +to the pit and to put them back afterwards outside Penreath's door. + +"But Peggy's belated admissions did more than suggest that Penreath was +the victim of a sinister plot--they narrowed down the range of persons +by whom it could have been contrived. The plotter was not only an inmate +of the inn, but somebody who had seen the match box and knew that it +belonged to Penreath. + +"I returned to Flegne to resume the investigations I had broken off +nearly three weeks before, and from that point my discoveries were very +rapid, all tending to throw suspicion on Benson. The first indication +was the outcome of a remark of mine about his height, and the broken gas +light in Mr. Glenthorpe's bedroom. It was purely a chance shot, but it +threw him into a pitiable state of excitement. I let him think, however, +that it was nothing more than a chance remark. That night I was put to +sleep in Penreath's room, and there I made two discoveries. The first +was the existence of a small door, behind the wardrobe, opening on a +corresponding door on the other side, which in its turn opens into Mr. +Glenthorpe's room. Thus it would be possible for a person in the room +Penreath occupied, discovering these doors as I did, to see into the +next bedroom--under certain conditions. My second discovery was the +outcome of my first discovery--I picked up underneath the wardrobe a +fragment of an appealing letter which Penreath had commenced to write to +his fiancee, and had subsequently torn up. It was a long time before I +grasped the full significance of these two discoveries. Why should a +man, after writing a letter of appeal to his fiancee, decide not to send +it and destroy it? The most probable reason was that something had +happened to cause him to change his mind. What could have happened to +change the conditions so quickly? The hidden doors in the wall, which +looked into the next room, supplied an answer to the question. Penreath +had looked through, and seen--what? My first thought was that he had +seen the murder committed, but that theory did not account for the +destruction of the letter, and his silence when arrested, unless, +indeed, the girl had committed the murder. The girl--Peggy! It came to +me like a flash, the solution of the strangest aspect of this puzzling +case--the reason why Penreath maintained his dogged silence under an +accusation of murder. + +"It came to me, the clue for which I had been groping, with the +recollection of a phrase in the girl's story to me--her second story--in +which she not only told me of her efforts to shield Penreath, but +revealed frankly to me her relations with Penreath, innocent enough, but +commenced in chance fashion, and continued by clandestine meetings in +lonely spots. I remembered when she told me about it all that I was +impressed by Penreath's absolute straightforwardness in his dealings +with this girl. He was open and sincere with her throughout, gave her +his real name, and told her much about himself: his family, his +prospects, and even his financial embarrassment. He went further than +that: he told her that he was engaged to be married, and that if he +could get free he would marry her. A young man who talks in this strain +is very much in love. The artless story of Peggy revealed that Penreath +was as much in love with the girl as she was with him. 'If he could get +free!' That was the phrase that gave me the key to the mystery. He had +set out to get free by writing to Miss Willoughby, breaking off his +engagement. Later he had torn up the letter because through the door in +the wall he had seen Peggy standing by the bedside of the murdered man, +and had come to the conclusion that she had murdered him. + +"If you think it a little strange that Penreath should have jumped to +this conclusion about the woman he loved, you must remember the +circumstances were unusual. Peggy had surrounded herself with mystery; +she refused to tell her lover where she lived, she would not even tell +him her name. When he looked into the room he did not even know she was +in the house, because she had kept out of his way during the previous +evening, waiting for an opportunity to see him alone. Consequently he +experienced a great shock at the sight of her, and the mystery with +which she had always veiled her identity and movements recurred to him +with a terrible and sinister significance as he saw her again under such +damning conditions, standing by the bedside of the dead man with a knife +in her hand. + +"Penreath's subsequent actions--his destruction of the letter he had +written to Miss Willoughby, his hurried departure from the inn, and his +silence in the face of accusation--are all explained by the fact that he +saw the girl Peggy in the next room, and believed that she had committed +this terrible crime. + +"I now come to the clues which point directly to Benson's complicity in +the murder. I have already told you of his alarm at my chance remark +about his height and the smashed gas globe. You also know that he was in +need of money. The next point is rather a curious one. When Benson was +telling us his story the day after the murder I observed that he kept +smoothing his long hair down on his forehead. There was something in the +action that suggested more than a mannerism. The night after I +discovered the door in the wall, I left it open in order to watch the +next room. During the night Benson entered and searched the dead man's +chamber. I do not know what he was looking for--he did not find it, +whatever it was--but during the search he grew hot, and threw back his +hair from his forehead, revealing a freshly healed scar on his temple. +The reason he had worn his hair low was explained: he wanted to hide +from us the fact that it was he who had smashed the gas-globe in Mr. +Glenthorpe's room, and had cut his head by the accident. + +"But his visit to the dead man's room revealed more than the scar on his +forehead. How did Benson get into the room? The room had been kept +locked since the murder. That night I had taken the key from a hook on +the kitchen dresser in order to examine the room when the inmates of the +place had retired. Benson, therefore, had let himself in with another +key. This was our first knowledge of another key. Hitherto we had +believed that the only key was the one found in the outside of the door +the morning after the murder. The police theory is partly based on that +supposition. Benson's possession of a second key, and his silence +concerning it, point strongly to his complicity in the crime. He knew +that Mr. Glenthorpe was accustomed to lock his door and carry the key +about with him, so he obtained another key in order to have access to +the room whenever he desired. There would have been nothing in this if +he had told his household about it. A second key would have been useful +to the servant when she wanted to arrange Mr. Glenthorpe's room. But +Benson kept the existence of the second key a close secret. He said +nothing about it when we questioned him concerning the key in the door. +An innocent man would have immediately informed us that there was a +second key to the room. Benson kept silence because he had something to +hide. + +"I now come to the events of the next morning. My investigation of the +rise and the pit during the afternoon had led to a discovery which +subsequently suggested to my mind that the missing money had been hidden +in the pit. I determined to try and descend it. I arose before daybreak, +as I did not wish any of the inmates of the inn to see me. Before going +to the pit I got out of the window and into the window of the next room, +as Penreath is supposed to have done. That experiment brought to light +another small point in Penreath's favour. The drop from the first window +is an awkward one--more than eight feet--and my heels made a deep +indentation in the soft red clay underneath the window. If Penreath had +dropped from the window, even in his stocking feet, the marks of his +heels ought to have been visible. There was not enough rain after the +murder was committed to obliterate them entirely. There were no such +marks under his window when we examined the ground the morning after +the murder. + +"I next proceeded to the rise and lowered myself down the pit by the +creepers inside. About ten feet down the vegetable growth ceased, and +the further descent was impossible without ropes. But at the limit of +the distance to which a man can climb down unaided, I saw a peg sticking +into the side of the pit, with a fishing line suspended from it. I drew +up the line, and found attached to it the murdered man's pocket-book +containing the L300 he had drawn out of the bank at Heathfield the day +he was murdered. + +"Let me now try to reconstruct the crime in the light of the fresh +information we have gained. Benson was in desperate straits for money, +and he knew that Mr. Glenthorpe had drawn L300 from the bank that +morning, all in small notes, which could not be traced. The fact that he +obtained a second key to the room suggests that he had been meditating +the act for some time past. It will be found, I think, when all the +facts are brought to light, that he obtained the second key when he +learnt that Mr. Glenthorpe intended to take a large sum of money out of +the bank. Penreath's chance arrival at the inn on the day that the money +was drawn out, probably set him thinking of the possibility of murdering +and robbing Mr. Glenthorpe in circumstances that would divert suspicion +to the stranger. Penreath unconsciously helped him by leaving his +match-box in the room where he had dined with Mr. Glenthorpe. Benson +found the match-box on looking into the room to see that everything was +all right when his guests had retired, and determined to commit the +murder that night, and leave it by the murdered man's bedside, as a clue +to direct attention to Penreath. His next idea, to murder Mr. +Glenthorpe with the knife which Penreath had used at dinner, probably +occurred to him as he considered the possibilities of the match-box. + +"It is difficult to decide why Benson chose to enter the room from the +window instead of by the door when he had a second key of the room. He +may have attempted to open the door with the key, and found that Mr. +Glenthorpe had locked the door and left the key on the inside. Or he may +have thought that as Penreath was sleeping in the next room, he ran too +great a risk of discovery by entering from the door, and so decided to +enter by the window. We must presume that Benson subsequently found Mr. +Glenthorpe's key, either inside the door or under his pillow, and kept +it. He entered the window, stabbed Mr. Glenthorpe, and placed the +match-box and the knife at the side of the bed. His next act would be to +search for the money. Finding it difficult to search by the light of the +tallow candle, he decided to go downstairs and turn on the gas. + +"During his absence Peggy entered the room, saw the dead body, and +picked up the knife and the match-box. Then she picked up the +candlestick by the bed, and fled in terror. Benson, after turning on the +gas at the meter, returned to find the room in darkness. Thinking that +the wind had blown out the candle, he walked to the gas with the +intention of lighting it. In doing so he knocked his head against the +globe, cutting his forehead, and smashing the incandescent burner. + +"Benson, when he found that the candlestick had disappeared must, in his +fright, have rushed downstairs for another. He could not light the gas, +because he had smashed the burner. In no other way can I account for the +second lot of candle-grease that I found in the room underneath the +gas-light, which made me believe at first that the room had been +visited by two persons on the night of the murder. There _were_ two +persons, Benson and his daughter, but Peggy did not bring a candlestick +into the room. It looks to me as though Benson, on returning with the +second candle, attempted to light the gas with it and failed. That +action would account for the gas tap being turned on, and the spilt +grease directly underneath. He then searched the room till he found the +pocket-book containing the money. + +"The subsequent removal of the body to the pit strikes me as an +afterthought. The complete plan was too diabolically ingenious and +complete to have formed in the murderer's mind at the outset. The man +who put the match-box and knife by the bedside of the murdered man in +order to divert suspicion to Penreath had no thought, at that stage, of +removing the body. That idea came afterwards, probably when he went +upstairs the second time with the lighted candle, and saw Penreath's +boots outside the door. I cannot help thinking that the clue of the +footprints, which was such a damning point in the case against Penreath, +was quite an accidental one so far as the murderer was concerned. The +thought that the boots would leave footprints which would subsequently +be identified as Penreath's was altogether too subtle to have occurred +to a man like Benson. That is the touch of a master criminal--of a much +higher order of criminal brain than Benson's. + +"It is my belief that he originally intended to leave the murdered man +in his room, thinking that the match-box and knife would point suspicion +to Penreath. But after killing Mr. Glenthorpe he was overcome with the +fear that his guilt would be discovered, in spite of his precautions to +throw suspicions on another man, and he decided to throw the body into +the pit in the hope that the crime would never be found out. The fact +that he had entered the room in his stocking feet supports this theory, +because he would be well aware that he would not be able to carry the +body over several hundred yards of rough ground in his bare feet. He +took Penreath's boots, which were close at hand, in preference to the +danger and delay which he would have incurred in going to his own room, +some distance away, for his own boots. Having put on the boots, he took +the body on his shoulders and conveyed it to the pit. + +"There are two or three points in this case which I am unable to clear +up to my complete satisfaction. Why did Benson leave the key in the +outside of the door? Was it merely one of those mistakes--those +oversights--which all murderers are liable to commit, or did he do it +deliberately, in the hope of conveying the impression that Mr. +Glenthorpe had gone out and left the key in the outside of the door. In +the next place, I cannot account for the mark of the box underneath the +window. There is a third point--the direction of the wound in the +murdered man's body, which gave me some ideas at the time that I am now +compelled to dismiss as erroneous. But these are points that I hope will +be cleared up by Benson's arrest, and confession, for I am convinced, by +my observation of the man, that he will confess. + +"There are one or two more points. Benson is an ardent fisherman, who +spends all his spare time fishing on the marshes. The stolen pocket-book +was suspended in the pit by a piece of fishing line. But I attach more +importance to the second point, which is that since the murder has been +committed the nightly conversation at the inn tap-room has centred +around a local ghost, known as the White Lady of the Shrieking Pit, who +is supposed from time immemorial to have haunted the pit where the body +was thrown, and to bring death to anybody who encounters her at night. +This spectre, which is profoundly believed in by the villagers, had not +been seen for at least two years before the murder, but she made a +reappearance a night or two after the crime, and is supposed to have +been seen frequently ever since. It looks to me as though Benson set the +story going again in order to keep the credulous villagers away from the +pit where the money was concealed. + +"This morning, in company with Mr. Oakham, I saw Penreath in the gaol, +and by a ruse induced him to break his stubborn silence. His story, +which it is not necessary for me to give you in detail, testifies to his +innocence, and supports my own theory of the crime. He did not see the +murder committed, but he saw the girl go into the room, and subsequently +he saw her father enter and remove the body. It was the latter spectacle +that robbed him of any lingering doubts he may have had of the girl's +guilt, and forced him to the conclusion that she and her father were +accomplices in the crime. But he loved her so much that he determined to +keep silence and shield her." + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + + +"This is a remarkable story, Mr. Colwyn," said the chief constable, +breaking the rather lengthy silence which followed the conclusion of the +detective's reconstruction of the crime. "It has been quite entrancing +to listen to your syllogistical skill. You would have made an excellent +Crown Prosecutor." The chief constable's official mind could conceive no +higher compliment. "Your statements seem almost too incredible for +belief, but undoubtedly you have made out a case for the further +investigation of this crime. What do you think, Galloway?" + +"The question, to my mind, is what Mr. Colwyn's discoveries really +represent," replied Galloway. "He has built up a very ingenious and +plausible reconstruction, but let us discard mere theory, and stick to +the facts. What do they amount to? Apart from Penreath's statement in +the gaol that he saw the body carried down stairs----" + +"You can leave that out of the question," said the detective curtly. "My +reconstruction of the crime is independent of Penreath's testimony, +which is open to the objection that it should have been made before." + +"Exactly what I was going to point out," rejoined Galloway bluntly. +"Well, then, let us examine the fresh facts. There are five as I see +them. The recovery of Penreath's match-box, the discovery of the door +between the two rooms, the wound on the innkeeper's forehead, the +additional key, and the finding of the pocket-book in the pit. Exclude +the idea of conspiracy, and the recovery of the match-box becomes an +additional point against Penreath, because it strikes me as guess work +to assume that he had no other matches in his possession except that +particular box and the loose one he found in his vest pocket. Smokers +frequently carry two or three boxes of matches. The discovery of the +hidden door is interesting, but has no direct bearing on the crime. The +wound on the innkeeper's head looks suspicious, but there is no proof +that it was caused by his knocking his head against the gas globe in the +murdered man's room on the night of the murder. As Mr. Colwyn himself +has pointed out, there is not much in Benson having a second key of +Glenthorpe's room. Many hotel-keepers and innkeepers keep duplicate keys +of bedrooms. The significance of this discovery is that Benson kept +silence about the existence of this key. Undoubtedly he should have told +us about it, but I am not prepared to accept, offhand, that his silence +was the silence of a guilty man. He may have kept silence regarding it +through a foolish fear of directing suspicion to himself. That theory +seems to me quite as probable as Mr. Colwyn's theory. There remains the +recovery of the money in the pit. In considering that point I find it +impossible to overlook that Penreath returned to the wood after making +his escape. That suggests, to my mind, that he hid the money in the pit +himself, and took the risk of returning in order to regain possession of +it." + +"You are worthier of the chief constable's compliment than I, my dear +Galloway," said Colwyn genially. "Your gift of overcoming points which +tell against you by ignoring them, and your careful avoidance of +tell-tale inferences, would make you an ideal Crown Prosecutor." + +"I don't believe in inferences in crime," replied Galloway, flushing +under the detective's sarcasm. "I am a plain man, and I like to stick to +facts." + +"What was the whole of your case against Penreath but a series of +inferences?" retorted Colwyn. "Circumstantial evidence, and the +circumstances on which you depended in this case, were never fully +established. Furthermore, your facts were not consistent with your +original hypothesis, and had to be altered when the case went to trial. +Now that I have discovered other facts and inferences which are +consistent with another hypothesis, you strive to shut your eyes to +them, or draw wrong conclusions from them. Your suggestion that Penreath +must have hidden the money in the pit because he was arrested near it is +a choice example of false deduction based on the wrong premise that +Penreath hid the money there on the night of the murder. He could not +have done so because he had no rope, and how was he, a stranger to the +place, to know that the inside of the pit was covered with creeping +plants of sufficient strength to bear a man's weight? The choice of the +pit as a hiding place for the money argues an intimate local knowledge." + +"You have not yet told us how you came to deduce that the money was in +the pit," said Mr. Cromering, who had been examining the pocket-book and +money. + +"While I was examining the mouth of the pit the previous afternoon I +found this piece of paper at the brink, trodden into the clay. Later on +I recognised the peculiar watermark of waving lines as the Government +watermark in the first issue of Treasury war notes. From that I deduced +that the money was hidden in the pit. It was all in Treasury notes, as +you see." + +"I'm afraid I don't quite follow you now," said the chief constable, +with a puzzled glance at the piece of dirty paper in his hand. "This +piece of paper is not a Treasury note." + +"Not now, perhaps, but it was once," said the detective with a smile. +"It puzzled me at first. I could not account for the Treasury watermark, +designed to prevent forgery of the notes, appearing on a piece of blank +paper. Then it came to me. The first issue of Treasury notes were very +badly printed. Ordinary black ink was used, which would disappear if the +note was immersed in water. It was an official at Somerset House who +told me this. He informed me that they had several cases of munition +workers who, after being paid in Treasury notes, had put them into the +pockets of their overalls, and forgotten about them until the overalls +came back from the wash with every vestige of printing washed out from +the notes, leaving nothing but the watermarks. It occurred to me that +the same thing had happened in this case. The murderer, when about to +descend to the pit to conceal the money, had accidentally dropped a note +and trodden it underfoot, and it had lain out in the open exposed to +heavy rains and dew until every scrap of printing was obliterated." + +"By Jove, that's very clever, very clever indeed!" exclaimed Galloway. +He picked up a magnifying glass which was lying on the table, and +closely examined the dirty piece of white paper which Colwyn had found +at the mouth of the pit. "It was once a Treasury note, sure enough--the +watermark is unmistakable. You've scored a point there that I couldn't +have made, and I'm man enough to own up to it. You see more deeply into +things than I do, Mr. Colwyn. And I'm willing to admit that you've made +some new and interesting discoveries about this case, though in my +opinion you are inclined to read too much into them. But I certainly +think they ought to be investigated further. If Penreath's statement to +you this morning is true, Benson is the murderer, and there has been a +miscarriage of justice. But what makes me doubt the truth of it is +Penreath's refusal to speak before. I mistrust confessions made out at +the last moment. And his explanation that he kept silence to save the +girl strikes me as rather thin. It is too quixotic." + +"There is more than that in it," replied Colwyn. "He had a double +motive. Penreath heard Sir Henry Durwood depose at the trial that he +believed him to be suffering from epilepsy." + +"How does that constitute a second motive?" + +"In this way. Penreath has a highly-strung, introspective temperament. +He went to the front from a high sense of duty, but he was +temperamentally unfit for the ghastly work of modern warfare, and broke +down under the strain. Men like Penreath feel it keenly when they are +discharged through shell-shock. They feel that the carefully hidden +weaknesses of their temperaments have been dragged out into the light of +day, and imagine they have been branded as cowards in the eyes of their +fellow men. I suspect that the real reason why Penreath left London and +sought refuge in Norfolk under another name was because he had been +discharged from the Army through shell-shock. He wanted to get away from +London and hide himself from those who knew him. To his wounded spirit +the condolences of his friends would be akin to taunts and sneers. When +Sir Henry Durwood questioned him he was careful to conceal the fact that +he had been a victim of shell-shock. As a matter of fact, Penreath's +behaviour in the breakfast room that morning was nothing more than the +effects of the air raid on his disordered nerves, but he would sooner +have died than admit that to strangers. After listening to the evidence +for the defence at the trial, he came to the conclusion that he was an +epileptic as well as a neurasthenic. He might well believe that life +held little for him in these circumstances, and that conviction would +strengthen him in his determination to sacrifice his life as a thing of +little value for the girl he loved." + +"If that is true he must be a very manly young fellow," said the chief +constable. + +"Supposing it is true, what is to be done?" asked Galloway, earnestly. +"Penreath has been tried and convicted for the murder." + +"The conviction will be upset on appeal," replied the detective +decisively. + +"But I do not see that carries us much further forward as regards +Benson," persisted Galloway. "If he is the murderer, as you say, he will +clear out as soon as he hears that Penreath is appealing." + +"He will not be able to clear out if you arrest him." + +"On what grounds? I cannot arrest him for a murder for which another man +has been sentenced to death." + +"True. But you can arrest him as accessory after the fact, on the ground +that he carried the body downstairs and threw it into the pit." + +"And suppose he denies having done so? Look here, Mr. Colwyn, I want to +help you all I can, but if I have made one mistake, I do not want to +make a second one. Frankly, I do not know what to think of your story. +It may be true, or it may not. But speaking from a police point of view, +we have mighty little to go on if we arrest Benson. If he likes to bluff +us we may find ourselves in an awkward position. Nobody saw him commit +the murder." + +"I realise the truth of what you say because I thought it all over +before coming to see you," replied Colwyn. "If Benson denies the truth +of the points I have discovered against him, or gives them a different +interpretation, it may be difficult to prove them. But he will not--he +will confess all he knows." + +"What makes you think so?" + +"Because his nerve has gone. If I had confronted him that night when I +saw him in the room I would have got the whole truth from him." + +"Why did you not do so?" + +"Because I had not the power to detain him. I am merely a private +detective, and can neither arrest a man nor threaten him with arrest. +That is why I have come to you. You, with the powers of the law behind +you, can frighten Benson into a confession much more effectually than I +could." + +"I don't half like it," grumbled Galloway. "There's a risk about it----" + +"It's a risk that must be taken, nevertheless." It was Mr. Cromering who +intervened in the discussion between the two, and he spoke with unusual +decision. "I agree with Mr. Colwyn that this is the best course to +pursue. I will go with you and take full responsibility, Galloway." + +"There is no need for that," said Galloway quickly. "I am quite willing +to go." + +"I will accompany you and Mr. Colwyn. It has been a remarkable case +throughout, and I want to see the end--if this is the end. I feel keenly +interested in this young man's fate." + +"I should like to go also, but an engagement prevents me," said Mr. +Oakham. "I am quite content to leave Penreath's interests in Mr. +Colwyn's capable hands." He rose as he spoke, and held out his hand to +the detective. "We have all been in error, but you have saved us from +having an irreparable wrong on our consciences. I cannot forgive myself +for my blindness. Perhaps you will acquaint me with the result of your +visit when you return. I shall be anxious to know." + +"I will not fail to do so," replied Colwyn, grasping the solicitor's +hand. "We had better catch the five o'clock train to Heathfield and walk +across to Flegne," he added, turning to the others. "It will be as quick +as motoring across, and the sound of the car might put Benson on his +guard. We want to take him unawares." + +"He'll have got wind of something already if he finds the pocket-book +gone," said Galloway. "He may have bolted while we have been talking +over things here." + +"I've seen to that," replied the detective. "I tied my own pocket-book +to the fishing line in the pit, and left Queensmead watching the pit. If +Benson tries to escape with my pocket-book Queensmead will arrest him +for robbery. I've made a complaint of the loss." + +"You haven't left much to chance," replied Galloway, with a grim smile. + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + + +It was characteristic of Mr. Cromering to beguile the long walk in the +dark from Heathfield Station by discussing Colwyn's theory that Benson +had circulated the reappearance of the White Lady of the Shrieking Pit +in order to keep the villagers away from the place where the stolen +money was hidden. Mr. Cromering had been much impressed--he said +so--with the logical skill and masterly deductive powers by which Colwyn +had reconstructed the hidden events of the night of the murder, like an +Owen reconstructing the extinct moa from a single bone, but he was loath +to accept that part of the theory which seemed to throw doubt on the +authenticity of a famous venerable Norfolk legend which had at least two +hundred years of tradition behind it. + +Mr. Cromering, without going so far as to affirm his personal belief in +the story, declared that there were several instances extant of +enlightened and educated people who had seen the ghost, and had suffered +an untimely end in consequence. He cited the case of a visiting +magistrate, who had been visiting in the district some twenty years ago, +and knew nothing about the legend. He was riding through Flegne one +night, and heard dismal shrieks from the wood on the rise. Thinking +somebody was in need of help, he dismounted from his horse, and went up +to the rise to investigate. As he neared the pit the White Lady appeared +from the pit and looked at him with inexpressibly sad eyes, drew her +hand thrice across her throat, and disappeared again in the pit. The +magistrate was greatly startled at what he had seen, and related the +experience to his host when he got home. The latter did not tell him of +the tragic significance which was attached to the apparition, but the +magistrate cut his throat three days after his return to London. +"Surely, _that_ was more than a mere coincidence?" concluded Mr. +Cromering. + +"I do not wish to undermine the local belief in the White Lady of the +Shrieking Pit," said Colwyn, with a smile which the darkness hid. "All I +say is that her frequent reappearances since the money was hidden in the +pit were exceedingly useful for the man who hid the money. I can assure +you that none of the villagers would go near the pit for twice the +amount. There are plenty of them who will go to their graves convinced +that they have heard her nightly shrieks since the murder was +committed." + +"It is difficult to believe that they are all mistaken," said Mr. +Cromering slowly. + +"I do not think they are mistaken--at least, not all of them. Some have +probably heard shrieks." + +"Then how do you account for the shrieks?" asked the chief constable +eagerly. + +"I think they have heard Benson's mother shrieking in her paroxysms of +madness." + +"By Jove, that's a shrewd notion!" chuckled Superintendent Galloway. +"You don't miss much, Mr. Colwyn. Whether you're right or not, there's +not the slightest doubt that the whole village is in terror of the +ghost, and avoids the Shrieking Pit like a pestilence. I was talking to +a Flegne farmer the other day, and he assured me, with a pale face, that +he had heard the White Lady shrieking three nights running, and when his +men went to the inn after dark they walked half a mile out of their way +to avoid passing near the pit. He told me also that the general belief +among the villagers is that Mr. Glenthorpe saw the White Lady a night or +so before he was murdered." + +"I heard that story also," responded Colwyn. "He was in the habit of +walking up to the rise after dark. He appears to have been keenly +interested in his scientific work." + +"He was absorbed in it to the exclusion of everything else," said the +chief constable, with a sigh. "His death is a great loss to British +science, and Norfolk research in particular. I was very much interested +in that newspaper clipping which was found in his pocket-book with the +money. It was a London review on a brochure he had published on sponge +spicules he had found in a flint at Flegne, and was his last +contribution to science, published two days before he was struck down. +What a loss!" + +Their conversation had brought them to the top of the rise. Beneath them +lay the little hamlet on the edge of the marshes, wrapped in a white +blanket of mist. Colwyn asked his companions to remain where they were, +while he went to see if Queensmead was on the watch. He walked quickly +across the hut circles until he reached the pit. There his keen eyes +detected a dark figure standing motionless in the shadow of the wood. + +"Is that you, Queensmead?" he said, in a low voice. + +"Yes, Mr. Colwyn." The figure advanced out of the shadow. + +"Is everything all right?" + +"Quite all right, sir. I've watched from this spot from dark till dawn +since you've been away, and there's not been a soul near the pit. I've +not been disturbed--not even by the White Lady." + +"You have done excellently. The chief constable and Superintendent +Galloway have come over with me, and we are going to the inn now. You +had better keep watch here for half an hour longer, so as to be on the +safe side. If anybody comes to the pit during that time you must detain +him, and call for assistance. I will come and relieve you myself." + +"Very good, sir, you can depend on me," said Queensmead quietly, as he +returned to his post. + +Colwyn rejoined his companions, and told them what had passed. + +"I want to be on the safe side in case Benson tries to bolt when he sees +us," he explained. "He's hardly likely to go without making an effort to +get the money. Now, let us go to the inn." + +"One moment," said the chief constable. "How do you propose to proceed +when we get there?" + +"Get Benson by himself and frighten him into a confession," was the +terse reply. "I want your authority to threaten him with arrest. In +fact, I should prefer that you or Superintendent Galloway undertook to +do that. It would come with more force." + +"Let it be Galloway," responded the chief constable. "You will act just +as if I were not present, Galloway, and it is my wish that you do +whatever Mr. Colwyn asks you." + +"Thank you," replied the detective. "Let us go, now. There is no time to +be lost. Somebody may have seen me speaking to Queensmead." + +They descended the rise and, reaching the flat, discerned the gaunt +walls of the old inn looming spectrally from the mist. A light glimmered +in the bar, and loud voices were heard within. Colwyn felt for the door. +It was shut and fastened. He knocked sharply; the voices within ceased +as though by magic, and presently there was the sound of somebody +coming along the passage. Then the door was opened, and the white face +of Charles appeared in the doorway, framed in the yellow light of a +candle which he held above his head as he peered forth into the mist. +His black eyes roved from Colwyn to the forms behind him. + +"I'm sorry you were kept waiting, sir," he said, in his strange whisper, +which seemed to have a tremor in it. "But the customers will have the +door locked at night now. They are frightened of this ghost--this White +Lady--she's been heard shrieking----" + +"Never mind that now," replied Colwyn. He had determined how to act, and +stepped quickly inside. "Where's Benson?" + +"He's sitting upstairs with his mother, sir. Shall I tell him you want +him?" + +"No. I will go myself. Take these gentlemen into the bar parlour, and +return to the bar." + +Colwyn made his way upstairs in the dark. He passed the rooms where Mr. +Glenthorpe had been murdered and Penreath had slept, and the room from +which he had watched Peggy's nocturnal visit to the death chamber. That +wing of the inn was as empty and silent as it had been the night of the +murder, but a lighted candle, placed on an old hall stand which Colwyn +remembered having seen that night in the lumber room, flickered in the +wavering shadows--a futile human effort to ward off the lurking terrors +of darkness by the friendly feeble companionship of a light which could +be extinguished even more quickly than a life. + +Colwyn took the candle to light him down the second passage to the mad +woman's room. As he reached it, the door opened, and Peggy stepped +forth. She recoiled at the sight of the detective. + +"You!" she breathed. "Oh, why----" + +"I have come to see your father," said Colwyn. It went to his heart to +see the entreaty in her eyes, the pitiful droop of her lips and the +thinness of her face. + +The door was opened widely, and the innkeeper appeared on the threshold +beside his daughter. Behind him, Colwyn could see the old mad woman in +her bed in the corner of the room, mumbling to herself and fondling her +doll. The innkeeper fastened his bird-like eyes on the detective's face. + +"What are you doing here?" he said, and there was no mistaking the note +of terror in his voice. "What is it you want?" + +"I want to speak to you downstairs," said the detective. + +The innkeeper looked swiftly to the right and left with the instinct of +a trapped animal seeking an avenue of escape. Then his eyes returned to +the detective's face with the resigned glance of a man who had made up +his mind. + +"I will come down with you," he said. "Peggy, you must look after your +grandmother till I return." + +The girl went back into the room and shut the door behind her, without a +word or a glance. Once more Colwyn felt admiration for her as a rare +type of woman-hood. Truly, she had self-control, this girl. + +He and the innkeeper took their way along the passages and descended the +stairs without exchanging a word. When they got to the foot of the +stairs Benson half hesitated, and turned to Colwyn as if for direction. +The latter nodded towards the door of the bar parlour, and motioned the +innkeeper to enter. Following closely behind, he saw the innkeeper start +with surprise at the sight of the two inmates of the room. Mr. Cromering +was seated at the table, but Superintendent Galloway was standing up +with his back to the fireplace. There was a moment's tense silence +before the latter spoke. + +"We have sent for you to ask you a few questions, Benson." + +"I was under the impression--that is, I was led to believe--that it was +Mr. Colwyn who wanted to see me." + +"Never mind what you thought," retorted Galloway impatiently. "You know +perfectly well what has brought us here. I'm going to ask you some +questions about the murder which was committed in this inn less than +three weeks ago." + +"I know nothing about it, sir, beyond what I told you before." + +"You will be well advised, in your own interests, not to lie, Benson. +Why did you not tell us you had a second key to Mr. Glenthorpe's room?" + +There was a perceptible pause before the reply came. + +"I didn't think it mattered, sir." + +"Then you admit you have a second key?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Very well." Superintendent Galloway took out a pocket-book and made a +note of the reply. "Now, where did you conceal the money?" + +"What money, sir?" + +"Don't equivocate, man!" Superintendent Galloway produced the +pocket-book Colwyn had recovered from the pit, and held it at arm's +length in front of the innkeeper. "I mean the L300 in Treasury notes in +this pocket-book, which Mr. Glenthorpe drew from the bank, and which you +took from his room the night he was murdered." + +"I know nothing about it." + +To Colwyn at least it seemed that the expression on the innkeeper's face +as he glanced at the pocket-book might have been mistaken by an +unprejudiced observer for genuine surprise. + +"I suppose you never saw it before, eh?" sneered Galloway. + +"I never did." + +"Nor hid it in the pit?" + +"No, sir." + +Galloway paused in his questioning in secret perplexity. Benson's +answers to his last three questions were given so firmly and +unhesitatingly that some of his former doubts of Colwyn's theory +returned to him with redoubled force. But it was in his most truculent +and overbearing manner that he next remarked: + +"Do you also deny that you carried Mr. Glenthorpe's body from his room +and threw it down the pit?" + +The spasm of sudden terror which contorted the innkeeper's face was a +revelation to the three men who were watching him closely. + +"I don't know anything about it," he quavered weakly. + +"That won't go down, Benson!" Galloway was quick to follow up his +stroke, shaking his head fiercely, like a dog worrying a rat. "You were +seen carrying the body downstairs, the night of the murder. You might as +well own up to it, first as last. Lies will not help you. We know too +much for you to wriggle out of it. And never mind smoothing your hair +down like that. We know all about that scar on your forehead, and how +you got it." + +A wooden clock, standing on the mantelpiece, measured off half a minute +in heavy ticks. Then the innkeeper, in a voice which was little more +than a whisper, spoke: + +"It is true. I carried the body downstairs." + +"Why did you not tell us this before?" + +"It would not have made any difference." + +"What!" Superintendent Galloway's indignation and amazement threatened +to choke his utterance. "You keep silence till an innocent man is almost +hanged for your misdeeds, and now have the brazen effrontery to say it +makes no difference." + +"Is Mr. Penreath innocent?" + +"Nobody should know that better than you." + +"Then who murdered Mr. Glenthorpe?" + +"Let us have no more of this fooling, Benson." Superintendent Galloway's +voice was very stern. "You have already admitted that you carried Mr. +Glenthorpe's body downstairs." + +"Oh!" The wretched man cried out wildly, like one who sees an engulfing +wave too late. "I see what you mean--you think I murdered him. But I did +not--I did not! Before God I am innocent." His voice rang out loudly. + +"We don't want to listen to this talk," interrupted Galloway roughly. +"You are under arrest, Benson, for complicity in this murder, and the +less you say the better for yourself." + +"But I tell you I am innocent." The innkeeper brought his skeleton hands +together in a gesture which was almost tragic in its despair. "I carried +the body downstairs, but I did not murder him. Let me explain. Let me +tell you----" + +"My advice to you is to keep silence, man. Keep your story for the +trial," replied the police official. "You'd better get ready to go to +Heathfield with me. I'll go upstairs with you, and give you five minutes +to get ready." + +"Let him tell his story before you take him away, Galloway," said +Colwyn, who had been keenly watching the innkeeper's face during the +dialogue between him and his accuser. "I want to hear it." + +"I do not see what good it will do," grumbled Superintendent Galloway. +"However, as you want to hear it, let him go ahead. But let me first +warn you, Benson, that anything you say now may be used in evidence +against you afterwards." + +"I do not care for that--I am not afraid of the truth being known," +replied the innkeeper. He turned from the uncompromising face of the +police officer to Colwyn, as though he divined in him a more +unprejudiced listener. "I did not murder Mr. Glenthorpe, but I went to +his room with the intention of robbing him the night he was murdered," +he commenced. "I was in desperate straits for money. The brewer had +threatened to turn me out of the inn because I couldn't pay my way. I +knew Mr. Glenthorpe had taken money out of the bank that morning, and in +an evil moment temptation overcame me, and I determined to rob him. I +told myself that he was a wealthy man and would never feel the loss of +the money, but if I was turned out of the inn my daughter and my old +mother would starve. + +"My plan was to go to his room after everybody was asleep, let myself in +with my key, and secure the pocket-book containing the money. I knew +that Mr. Glenthorpe was a sound sleeper, and I was aware that he +generally locked his door and slept with the key under his pillow. + +"I went to my room early that night, and waited a long time before +making the attempt. It came on to rain about eleven o'clock, and I +waited some time longer before leaving my room. I walked in my stocking +feet, so as to make no sound, and I carried a candle, but it was not +lighted. When I got to the door I stood and listened awhile outside, +thinking I might judge by Mr. Glenthorpe's breathing whether he was +asleep, but I could hear nothing. I unlocked the door quietly, and felt +my way towards the bed in the dark, hoping to find his coat and the +money in it without running the risk of striking a light. + +"But I could not lay my hands on the coat in the dark, so I struck a +match to light the candle. I had made up my mind that if Mr. Glenthorpe +should wake up and see me at his bedside I would tell him the truth and +ask him to lend me some money. + +"By the light of the candle I saw Mr. Glenthorpe lying on his back, with +his arms thrown out from his body. He was uncovered, and the bed-clothes +were lying in a tumbled heap at the foot of the bed. I stood looking at +him for a minute, not knowing what to do. I did not realise at the time +that he was dead, because the wind blowing in at the open window caused +the candle to flicker, and I could not see very clearly. I thought he +must be in a fit, and I wondered what I could do to help him. As the +candle still kept flickering in the wind, I picked up the candlestick +and walked to the gas-jet in the centre of the room, turned on the tap +and tried to light it with the candle. It would not light, and then I +remembered that I had told Ann to turn it off at the meter before going +to bed. I walked back to the bedside, put the candle down on the table, +and had a closer look at Mr. Glenthorpe. As he was still in the same +attitude I put my hand on his heart to see if it was beating. I felt +something warm and wet, and when I drew back my hand I saw that it was +covered with blood. + +"When I realised that he was dead--murdered--I lost my nerve and rushed +from the room, leaving the candle burning at the bedside. My one thought +was to get downstairs and wash the blood off my hand. It was not until I +had reached the kitchen that I remembered that I had left the candle +burning upstairs. I considered whether I should return for it at once or +wash my hands first. I decided on the latter course, and went into the +kitchen. + +"I had just lit a candle, when I heard a door open behind me, and, +turning round, I saw Charles coming out of his room in his shirt and +trousers, with a candle in his hand. He said he had seen the light under +his door, and wondering who had come into the kitchen had got up to see. +Then his face changed when he saw my hands, and he asked me how the +blood came to be on them. + +"I tried to put him off at first by telling him I had knocked my hand +upstairs. He didn't say any more, but stood there watching me wash my +hands, and when I had finished he said that if I was going upstairs he +would come with me, as he remembered he had left his corkscrew in Mr. +Glenthorpe's sitting room, and would want it in the morning. + +"I could see that he suspected me, and that if he went upstairs he would +see the light burning in Mr. Glenthorpe's bedroom, and might go in. So, +in desperation, I confessed to him that I had gone into Mr. Glenthorpe's +room, and found him dead. I asked Charles what I should do. He heard me +very quietly, but when he learnt that I had left my candle burning in +Mr. Glenthorpe's room he said the first thing was to go and get that, +and then we could discuss what had better be done. + +"I realised that was good advice, and went upstairs to get the +candlestick. But when I got to the door I was amazed to find the room in +darkness. The door was on the jar, just as I remembered leaving it, but +there was not a glimmer of light. I was in a terrible fright, but as I +stood there in the dark, listening intently, the sound of the wind +roaring round the house reminded me how the candle had flickered in the +wind while I was in the room before, and I concluded that it must have +blown out the light. So I went into the room, feeling my way along the +walls with my hands. When I got near the bed I struck a match and looked +for the candlestick. But it was gone. + +"Then I knew somebody had been in the room, and I made my way downstairs +again as fast as I could, and told Charles, and asked him what he +thought of it. Charles said it was clear that the murderer, whoever he +was, had revisited the room since I had been there, and finding the +candle, had carried it off with him. I asked Charles for what purpose? +Charles turned it over in his mind for a moment, and then said that it +seemed to him that he might have done it to secure himself, in case he +was caught, by being able to prove that somebody else had been in Mr. +Glenthorpe's room that night. + +"I saw the force of that and was greatly alarmed, and asked Charles what +he thought I had better do. Charles, after thinking it over for a while, +said in my own interests I would be well advised if I carried the body +away and concealed it somewhere where it was not likely to be found. He +pointed out that if the facts came to light it would be very awkward for +me. On my own admission I had gone into Mr. Glenthorpe's room in the +middle of the night, and had come away leaving him dead in bed, with his +blood on my hands, and my bedroom candlestick alight at his bedside. +Charles pointed out that these facts were sure to come to light if the +body was left where it was, but if the body was removed and safely +hidden, it might be thought that Mr. Glenthorpe had simply disappeared. + +"I was struck by the force of these arguments, and we next discussed +where the body should be hidden. We both thought of the pit, but I +didn't like that idea at first because I thought the police would be +sure to search the pit when they learnt of Mr. Glenthorpe's +disappearance, because his excavations were near the pit. Charles, on +the other hand, thought it was the safest place--much safer than the +sea, which was sure to cast up the body. He said it would never occur to +the police to search the pit, until the body had lain there so long that +it would be impossible to say how he came by his death. Perhaps it would +never be searched, in which case the body would never be recovered. + +"We decided on the pit, and Charles said he would keep watch downstairs +while I went up and got the body. But first I went and opened the back +door and went to the side of the inn to see if anybody was about. The +rain had ceased, it was a dark and stormy night, and everybody long +since gone to bed. The rough stones outside cut my feet, and recalled to +my mind that I was without boots. I knew I could not carry the body all +the way up the rise without boots, and I was about to go to my room to +get them when I remembered that I had seen Penreath's boots outside his +bedroom door. I decided to wear them and avoid the risk of going back to +my room for my own boots. I have a small foot, and I had no doubt that +they would fit me. + +"Charles suggested that I should go into the room in the dark, so as to +lessen the risk of being seen, and light the candle when I got inside. I +took the candle, but I said I would turn on the gas at the meter, in +case the wind blew out the candle. I will keep nothing back now. The +real reason was that I wanted the better light to make quite sure if the +money was gone. I thought perhaps the murderer might have overlooked it, +and I hoped to find it because I needed it so badly. When I got upstairs +I stopped outside Mr. Penreath's room, picked up his boots, and put them +on. I went into the room in the dark, intending to strike a match, and +light the gas, and search for the money. I miscalculated the distance, +and bumped into the gas globe in the dark, cutting my head badly. When I +struck a match I found that I couldn't light the gas because the +incandescent burner had been broken by the blow, so I lit the candle. + +"I shuddered at the ordeal of carrying the body downstairs, and only +nerved myself to the task by reflecting on the risk to myself if I +allowed it to remain where it was. As I stood by the bedside, I noticed +Mr. Glenthorpe's key of the room lying by the pillow, and I picked it up +and put it in my pocket. I then lifted the body on my shoulders, carried +it downstairs, steadying it with one hand, and carrying the candle in +the other. Charles was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs, and +he took the candle from me and lighted me to the back door. + +"A late moon was just beginning to show above the horizon when I got +outside, and by its light I had no difficulty in finding my way up the +rise and to the pit. It was a terrible task, and I was glad when I had +accomplished it. I returned to the back door, where Charles was awaiting +me. We then fastened the back door, and he went to his room off the +kitchen, and I went upstairs to my room. As I passed Mr. Glenthorpe's +room I saw the door was open, and I pulled it quickly to, but I forgot +to take out the key I had left in the door when I first entered the +room. + +"I remembered the key in the morning when Ann told me Mr. Glenthorpe's +room was empty, but I dared not remove it then because I knew Ann must +have seen it. And later on, when you were questioning me about the key +in the door, I was afraid to tell you about the second key, because I +knew you would question me. + +"When I learnt from Ann that Mr. Penreath had left early in the morning, +and wouldn't stay for breakfast, I felt sure it was he who had committed +the murder. It was a little later that Charles took me aside in the bar +and told me that he had walked up to the rise early that morning to see +if everything was all right, and that I had left traces of my footprints +across the clay to the mouth of the pit. I was very much upset when I +heard this, for I knew the body was sure to be found. But Charles said +that, as things turned out, it was a very lucky accident. + +"Charles said there was no doubt Mr. Penreath was the murderer. He had +not only cleared out, but the knife he had used at dinner had +disappeared. Charles said he had not missed the knife the night before, +but he had discovered the loss when counting the cutlery that morning. +If the police found out that it was his boots which made the prints +leading to the pit it would only be another point against him, and as he +was sure to be hanged in any case the best thing I could do was to go +and inform Constable Queensmead of Mr. Glenthorpe's disappearance and +Mr. Penreath's departure, but to keep silence about my own share in +carrying the body to the pit. Even if the murderer denied removing the +body nobody would believe him. I thought the advice good, and I followed +it. I don't know whether I could have kept it up if I had been +cross-questioned, but from first to last nobody seemed to have the least +suspicion of me. The only time I was really afraid was when one of you +gentlemen asked me about the key in the outside of the door, but you +passed it over and went on to something else. + +"And now you know the whole truth. But I should like to say that I kept +silence about carrying the body away because I didn't think I was +injuring anybody. I believed Mr. Penreath to be guilty. Now you tell me +he is innocent. If I had had any idea of that I would have told the +truth at once, even though you had hanged me for it." + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + + +"You're a nice scoundrel, Benson," said Superintendent Galloway, nodding +his head at the innkeeper with a kind of ferocious banter. "You're +really a first-class villain, upon my soul! But this precious story with +which you've tried to bamboozle us is not complete. Would it be putting +too much strain on your inventive faculties to ask you, while you are +about it, to give us your version of how the money which was stolen from +Mr. Glenthorpe came to be hidden in the pit in which you flung his +body?" + +"But I didn't know the money was hidden in the pit," said the wretched +man, glancing uneasily at the pocket-book, which was still lying on the +table. "I never saw the money, though I've confessed to you that I would +have taken it if I had seen it. That's the truth, sir--every word I've +told you to-night is true! Charles will bear me out." + +"I've no doubt he will. I'll have something to say to that scoundrel +later on. There's a pair of you. I've no doubt he caught you in the act +of carrying away the body of your victim, and that you bribed him to +keep silence. You planned together to let an innocent man go to the +gallows in order to save your own skin. Now, my man----" + +"Wait a moment, Galloway." + +It was Colwyn who spoke. The innkeeper's story had been to him like a +finger of light in a murky depth, revealing unseen and unimagined +abominations, but supplying him with those missing pieces of the puzzle +for which he had long and vainly searched. During the brief colloquy +between Galloway and the innkeeper his brain had been busy fitting +together the whole intricate design of knavery. + +"I want to ask a question," he continued, in answer to the other's +glance of inquiry. "What time was it you went to Mr. Glenthorpe's +room--the first time I mean, Benson. Can you fix it definitely?" + +"Yes, sir. I kept looking at my watch in my room, waiting for the time +to pass. It was twenty past eleven the last time I looked, and I left my +room about five minutes later." + +"Was it raining then?" + +"Yes, sir, but not so hard as previously, and it stopped altogether +before I entered the room, though the wind was blowing." + +"That is as I thought. Benson's story is true, Galloway." + +"What!" The police officer's vociferous exclamation was in striking +contrast to the detective's quiet tones. "How do you make that out?" + +"He couldn't have committed the murder. Mr. Glenthorpe was killed during +the storm, between eleven and half-past. Benson says he didn't enter the +room till nearly half-past eleven." + +"If that's all you're going on----" + +"It isn't." There was a trace of irritation in the detective's voice. +"But Benson's story fills in the gaps of my reconstruction in a +remarkable way--so completely, that he couldn't have invented it to save +his life, because he does not know all we know. In this extraordinarily +complicated case the times are everything. My original theory was right. +There were two persons in the room the night of the murder--three, +really, but Peggy doesn't affect the reconstruction one way or the +other. The murderer, who carried an umbrella to shield himself from the +rain, entered the room about twenty past eleven. He murdered Mr. +Glenthorpe, took the money, and escaped the same way he entered--by the +window. Benson entered by the door at half-past eleven, certainly not +later, and after standing at the bedside for two or three minutes, +rushed downstairs, as he related, leaving his candle burning at the +bedside. During his absence downstairs his daughter entered the room. +Benson returned for the candle and found it gone. Had he returned a +minute or two earlier he would have seen his daughter carrying it away, +because in her story to me she said she thought she heard somebody +creeping up the stairs as she left the room. I thought at the time that +she imagined this, but now I have very little doubt that it was her +father she heard, going upstairs again to get the candle. Finally, +Benson, after planning it with Charles, removed the body to the pit some +time after midnight." + +"This is mere guess-work. Let us stick to facts. On Benson's own +confession he entered the room nefariously and removed the dead man's +body." + +"Yes, but it was a dead body when he got there--just dead. Mr. +Glenthorpe was alive and well not ten minutes before." + +"Oh, come, Mr. Colwyn, this is going too far," Galloway expostulated. +"Again, I say, let us have no guess-work." + +"This is not guess-work. There can be no doubt that the murderer left +the room by the window just before Benson entered it by the door." + +"How do you know that?" asked Galloway. + +"_Because he was watching Benson from the window._" + +Galloway looked startled. + +"You go too deep for me," he said. "Was it Penreath who got out of the +window?" + +"No, Penreath, like Benson, was the victim of a deep and subtle +villain." + +"Then who was it?" + +Before Colwyn could reply a shriek rang out--a single hoarse and +horrible cry, which went reverberating and echoing over the marshes, +rising to a piercing intensity at its highest note, and then ceasing +suddenly. In the hush that ensued the chief constable looked nervously +at Colwyn. + +"It came from the rise," he said in a voice barely raised above a +whisper. "Do you think----" + +Colwyn read the unspoken thought in his mind. + +"I'll go and see what it was," he said briefly. + +He opened the door and went out. In the passage he encountered Ann +shaking and trembling, with a face blanched with terror. + +"It came from the pit, sir--the Shrieking Pit," she whispered. "It's the +White Lady. Don't leave me, I'm like to drop. God a' mercy, what's +that?" she cried, finding her voice in a fresh access of terror as a +heavy knock smote the door. "For God's sake, don't 'ee go, sir, don't +'ee go, as you value your life. It's the White Lady at the door, come to +take her toll again from this unhappy house. You be mad to face her, +sir--it's certain death." + +But Colwyn loosened himself quickly from her detaining grasp, and strode +to the door. As he passed the bar he caught a glimpse of a ring of +cowering frightened faces within, huddled together like sheep, and +staring with saucer eyes. The mist spanned the doorway like a sheet. + +"Who's there?" he cried. + +"It's me, sir." Constable Queensmead stepped out of the mist into the +passage, looking white and shaken. "Something's happened up at the pit. +While I was watching from the corner of the wood I saw somebody appear +out of the mist and come creeping up the rise towards the pit. I waited +till he got to the brink, and when he made to climb down, I knew he was +the man you were after, so I went over to the pit. He had disappeared +inside, but I could hear the creepers rustling as he went down. After a +bit, I heard him coming up again, tugging and straining at the creepers, +and gasping for breath. When he was fairly out, I turned my torch on him +and told him to stand still. It is difficult to say exactly how it +happened, sir, but when he saw he was trapped he made a kind of spring +backwards, slipped on the wet clay, lost his balance, and fell back into +the pit. I sprang forward and tried to save him, but it was too late. He +caught at the creepers as he fell, hung for a second, then fell back +with a loud cry." + +"Who was it, Queensmead?" + +"Charles, the waiter, sir." + +"We must get him out at once," said Colwyn. "We shall need a rope and +some men. Can you get some ropes, Queensmead? There's some men in the +bar--we'll get them to help. + +"I don't think they're likely to come, sir. They're all too frightened +of the Shrieking Pit, and the ghost." + +"I'll go and talk to them. Meanwhile, you go and get ropes." + +Colwyn returned to the bar parlour and, after explaining to Mr. +Cromering and Galloway what had happened, went into the bar. + +"Men," said Colwyn, "Charles has fallen into the pit on the rise, and I +need the help of some of you to get him out. Queensmead has gone for +ropes. Who will come with me?" + +There was no response. The villagers looked at each other in silence, +and moved uneasily. Then a man in jersey and sea-boots spoke: + +"None of us dare go up to th' pit, ma'aster." + +"Why not?" + +"Life be sweet, ma'aster. It be a suddint and bloody end to meet th' +White Lady of th' pit. Luke what's happened to Charles, who went out of +this bar not ten minutes agone! Who knows who she may take next?" + +"Very well, then stay where you are. You are a lot of cowards," said +Colwyn, turning away. + +The faces of the men showed that the epithet rankled, as Colwyn intended +that it should. There was a brief pause, and then another fisherman +stepped forward and said: + +"I'm a Norfolk man, and nobbut agoin' to say I'm afeered. I'll go wi' +yow, ma'aster." + +"If yower game, Tom, I'll go too," said another. + +By the time Queensmead returned with the ropes there was no lack of +willing helpers, and the party immediately set forth. When they arrived +at the pit Colwyn said that it would be best for two men to descend by +separate ropes, so as to be able to carry Charles to the surface in a +blanket if he were injured, and not killed. Colwyn had brought a blanket +from the inn for the purpose. + +"I'll go down, for one," said the seaman who had acted as spokesman in +the bar. "I'm used to tying knots and slinging a hammock, so maybe I +can make it a bit easier for the poor chap if he's not killed outright." + +"And I'll go with you," said Colwyn. + +Mr. Cromering drew the detective aside. + +"My good friend," he said, "do you think it is wise for you to descend? +This man Charles, if he is still alive, may be actuated by feelings of +revenge towards you, and seek to do you an injury." + +"I am not afraid of that," returned Colwyn. "I laid the trap for him, +and it is my duty to go down and bring him up." + +Colwyn left the chief constable and returned to the pit. The next moment +he and the seaman commenced the descent. They carried electric torches, +and took with them a blanket and a third rope. They were carefully +lowered until the torches they carried twinkled more faintly, and +finally vanished in the gloom. A little while afterwards the strain on +the ropes slackened. The rescuers had reached the bottom of the pit. A +period of waiting ensued for those on top, until a jerk of the ropes +indicated the signal for drawing up again. The men on the surface pulled +steadily. Soon the torches were once more visible down the pit, and then +the lanterns on the surface revealed Colwyn and the fisherman, +supporting between them a limp bundle wrapped in the blanket, and tied +to the third rope. As they reached the air they were helped out, and the +burden they carried was laid on the ground near the mouth of the pit. +The blanket fell away, exposing the face of Charles, waxen and still in +the rays of the light which fell upon it. + +"Dead?" whispered Mr. Cromering. + +"Dying," returned Colwyn. "His back is broken." + +The dying man unclosed his eyelids, and his dark eyes, keen and +brilliant as ever, roved restlessly over the group who were standing +around him. They rested on Colwyn, and he lifted a feeble hand and +beckoned to him. The detective knelt beside him, and rested his head on +his arm. The white lips formed one word: + +"Closer." + +Colwyn bent his head nearer, and those standing by could see the dying +man whispering into the detective's ear. He spoke with an effort for +some minutes, and hurriedly, like one who knew that his time was short. +Then he stopped suddenly, and his head fell back grotesquely, like a +broken doll's. Colwyn felt his heart, and rose to his feet. + +"He is dead," he said. + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + + +"There are several things that I do not understand," said Superintendent +Galloway to Colwyn a little later. "How were you able to decide so +quickly that Benson had told the truth when he declared that he had not +committed the murder, after he had made the damning admission that he +had removed the body?" + +"Partly because it was extremely unlikely that Benson could have +invented a story which fitted so nicely with the facts. The slightest +mistake in his times would have proved him to be a liar. But I had more +than that to go upon. I said this afternoon that my reconstruction was +not wholly satisfactory, because there were several loose ends in it. At +that time I believed he was the murderer, and I was anxious to frighten +the truth out of him in order to see where my reconstruction was at +fault. His story proved that my original conception of the crime was the +correct one, and my mistake was in departing from it, and ignoring some +of my original clues in order to square the new facts with a fresh +theory. I should never have lost sight of my first conviction that there +were two persons in Mr. Glenthorpe's room the night he was murdered. + +"When Benson told his story I asked myself, Could Charles' conduct be +dictated by the desire to have a hold over Benson--with a view to +blackmail later on? But he was not likely to risk his own neck by +becoming an accomplice in the concealment of the murdered man's body! +Charles, if he were innocent himself, must have thought that Benson was +the murderer. It was impossible that he could have come to any other +conclusion. He discovers a man washing blood off his hands at midnight, +and this man admits to him that he has just come from a room which he +had no right to enter, and found a dead man there. Why had Charles +believed--or pretended to believe--Benson's story? + +"It came to me suddenly, with the recollection of the line under the +murdered man's window--one of the clues which I had discarded--and the +whole of this baffling sinister mystery became clear in my mind. The +murder was committed by Charles, who got out of the window by which he +had entered just before Benson came into the room. Charles saw a light +in the room he had left, and returned to the window to investigate. +Crouching outside the window, he saw Benson in the room, examining the +body, and it came into his mind as he watched that his employer had +conceived the same idea as himself--had seized on the presence of a +stranger staying at the inn in order to rob Mr. Glenthorpe, hoping that +the crime would be attributed to the man who slept in the next room. +Charles was quick to see how Benson's presence in the room might be +turned to his own advantage. Charles had taken precautions, in +committing the murder, to leave clues in the room which should direct +suspicion to Penreath, but the innkeeper's visit to the room suggested +to him an even better plan for securing his own safety. When Benson left +the room Charles got through the window again, and followed him +downstairs. + +"Charles' story, told to me when he was dying, filled in the gaps which +I have omitted. He said that he watched the whole of Benson's movements +from the window. He saw him searching for the money, saw him feel the +body, and saw the blood on his hands. When Benson turned to leave the +room he forgot the candle, and it was then that the idea of following +him leapt into Charles' mind. He divined that Benson would go downstairs +and wash the blood off his hands. Charles' idea was to go after him and +surprise him in the act. He followed him swiftly, and was never more +than a few feet behind. While Benson was striking a match and lighting +the kitchen candle Charles slipped into his own room, lit his own +candle, and then emerged from his door as though he had been disturbed +in his sleep. The rest of his plan was easily carried out through the +fears of Benson, who agreed, in his own interests, to conceal the body +of the man whom the other had murdered. + +"The clue by which Penreath was virtually convicted--the track of +bootmarks to the pit--was an accidental one so far as Charles was +concerned. It is strange to think that Chance, which removed the clues +Charles deliberately placed in the room, should have achieved Charles' +aim by directing suspicion to Penreath in a different, yet more +convincing manner. + +"The murderer's revelation clears up those points which I was unable to +settle this afternoon. He entered Mr. Glenthorpe's room during the +heaviest part of the storm. He carried a box, under his arm, because he +was too short to get into the window without something to stand on, he +shielded himself from the rain with an umbrella, which got caught on the +nail by the window, and he lit a tallow candle which he had brought from +the bar. + +"Another clue, which I originally discovered and laid aside, is also +explained. The wound in Mr. Glenthorpe's body struck me as an unusual +one. You heard Sir Henry Durwood say, in answer to my questions, that +the blow was a slanting one, struck from the left side, entering almost +parallel with the ribs, yet piercing the heart on the right side. The +manner in which Mr. Glenthorpe's arms were thrown out, his legs drawn +up, proved that he was lying on his back when murdered. For that reason, +the direction of the blow suggested Charles as the murderer." + +"I am afraid I do not follow you there," said Mr. Cromering. + +"Charles had a malformed right hand; his left hand was his only +serviceable one. The blow that killed Mr. Glenthorpe struck me at the +time as a left-handed blow. The natural direction of a right-handed +blow, with the body in such a position, would be from right to left--not +from left to right. But, after considering this point carefully, I came +to the conclusion that the blow might have been struck by a right-handed +man. I was wrong." + +"I do not think you have much cause to blame yourself," said the chief +constable. "You were right in your original conception of the crime, and +right in your later reconstruction in every particular except----" + +"Except that I picked the wrong man," said Colwyn, with a slightly +bitter laugh. "My consolation is that Benson's confession brought the +truth to light, as I expected it would." + +"It took you to see the truth," said Galloway. "I should never have +picked it. I suppose there has never been a case like it." + +"There is nothing new--not even in the annals of crime," returned +Colwyn. "But this was certainly a baffling and unusual case. The +murderer was such a deep and subtle scoundrel that I feel a respect for +his intelligence, perverted though it was. His master stroke was the +disposal of the body. That shielded him from suspicion as completely as +an alibi. I put aside my first suspicion of him largely because I +realised that it was impossible for a man with a deformed arm to carry +away the body. Such a sardonic situation as a murderer persuading +another man that he was likely to be suspected of the murder unless he +removed the body was one that never occurred to me. That, at all events, +is something new in my experience." + +"It is a wonder that Charles, with his deformed arm, was able to go down +the pit and conceal the money," said the chief constable. + +"He did not go down very far. It is not a difficult matter to climb down +the creepers inside with the support of one hand, and he was able to use +the other sufficiently to thrust the small peg into the soft earth. He +first hid the money in the breakwater wall, being too careful and clever +to hide it in the pit until after the inquest. When he had concealed it +in the pit he revived the story of the White Lady of the Shrieking Pit +so as to keep the credulous villagers away from the spot. He need not +have taken that precaution, because the hiding place was an excellent +one, and it was only by chance that I discovered the money when I +descended the pit. But he left nothing to chance. The use of the +umbrella on the night of the murder proves that. Murderers do not +usually carry umbrellas, but he did, because he feared that if his +clothes got wet they might be seen in his room the following day, and +direct suspicion to him. He chose to commit the crime when the storm was +at its height because he thought he was safest from the likelihood of +discovery then. + +"The callous scoundrel told me with his last breath that he was waiting +until Penreath was safely hanged before disappearing with the money. +When he opened the door to us to-night, he knew that he was at the end +of his tether, and he decided to try to bolt. He realised that Benson +would tell the truth when he was questioned and, although the +innkeeper's story did not implicate him directly, he did our common +intelligence the justice to believe that, through his dupe's confession, +we should arrive at the truth." + + +THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Shrieking Pit, by Arthur J. 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