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diff --git a/old/6382-h.htm.2021-01-27 b/old/6382-h.htm.2021-01-27 new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e6803ba --- /dev/null +++ b/old/6382-h.htm.2021-01-27 @@ -0,0 +1,15066 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Bat Wing, by Sax Rohmer + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Bat Wing, by Sax Rohmer + +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: Bat Wing + +Author: Sax Rohmer + + +Release Date: August, 2004 [EBook #6382] +This file was first posted on December 4, 2002 +Last Updated: October 12, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BAT WING *** + + + + +Text file produced by Anne Soulard, Charles Franks and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team + +HTML file produced by David Widger + + + + +</pre> + + <div style="height: 8em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + BAT WING + </h1> + <h2> + By Sax Rohmer + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + <b>CONTENTS</b> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. PAUL HARLEY OF CHANCERY LANE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. THE VOODOO SWAMP </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. THE VAMPIRE BAT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. CRAY’S FOLLY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. VAL BEVERLEY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. THE BARRIER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. AT THE LAVENDER ARMS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. THE CALL OF M’KOMBO </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. OBEAH </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. THE NIGHT WALKER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. THE SHADOW ON THE BLIND </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. MORNING MISTS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. AT THE GUEST HOUSE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. YSOLA CAMBER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. UNREST </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. RED EVE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII. NIGHT OF THE FULL MOON </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII. INSPECTOR AYLESBURY OF MARKET + HILTON </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. COMPLICATIONS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX. A SPANISH CIGARETTE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. THE WING OF A BAT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII. COLIN CAMBER’S SECRET </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII. INSPECTOR AYLESBURY CROSS-EXAMINES + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV. AN OFFICIAL MOVE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV. AYLESBURY’S THEORY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI. IN MADAME’S ROOM </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII. AN INSPIRATION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXVIII. MY THEORY OF THE CRIME </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX. A LEE-ENFIELD RIFLE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXX. THE SEVENTH YEW TREE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER XXXI. YSOLA CAMBER’S CONFESSION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0032"> CHAPTER XXXII. PAUL HARLEY’S EXPERIMENT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0033"> CHAPTER XXXIII. PAUL HARLEY’S EXPERIMENT + CONCLUDED </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0034"> CHAPTER XXXIV. THE CREEPING SICKNESS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0035"> CHAPTER XXXV. AN AFTERWORD </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. PAUL HARLEY OF CHANCERY LANE + </h2> + <p> + Toward the hour of six on a hot summer’s evening Mr. Paul Harley was + seated in his private office in Chancery Lane reading through a number of + letters which Innes, his secretary, had placed before him for signature. + Only one more remained to be passed, but it was a long, confidential + report upon a certain matter, which Harley had prepared for His Majesty’s + Principal Secretary of State for the Home Department. He glanced with a + sigh of weariness at the little clock upon his table before commencing to + read. + </p> + <p> + “Shall detain you only a few minutes, now, Knox,” he said. + </p> + <p> + I nodded, smiling. I was quite content to sit and watch my friend at work. + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley occupied a unique place in the maelstrom of vice and ambition + which is sometimes called London life. Whilst at present he held no + official post, some of the most momentous problems of British policy + during the past five years, problems imperilling inter-state relationships + and not infrequently threatening a renewal of the world war, had owed + their solution to the peculiar genius of this man. + </p> + <p> + No clue to his profession appeared upon the plain brass plate attached to + his door, and little did those who regarded Paul Harley merely as a + successful private detective suspect that he was in the confidence of some + who guided the destinies of the Empire. Paul Harley’s work in + Constantinople during the feverish months preceding hostilities with + Turkey, although unknown to the general public, had been of a most + extraordinary nature. His recommendations were never adopted, + unfortunately. Otherwise, the tragedy of the Dardanelles might have been + averted. + </p> + <p> + His surroundings as he sat there, gaze bent upon the typewritten pages, + were those of any other professional man. So it would have seemed to the + casual observer. But perhaps there was a quality in the atmosphere of the + office which would have told a more sensitive visitor that it was the + apartment of no ordinary man of business. Whilst there were filing + cabinets and bookshelves laden with works of reference, many of them + legal, a large and handsome Burmese cabinet struck an unexpected note. + </p> + <p> + On closer inspection, other splashes of significant colour must have been + detected in the scheme, notably a very fine engraving of Edgar Allan Poe, + from the daguerreotype of 1848; and upon the man himself lay the indelible + mark of the tropics. His clean-cut features had that hint of underlying + bronze which tells of years spent beneath a merciless sun, and the touch + of gray at his temples only added to the eager, almost fierce vitality of + the dark face. Paul Harley was notable because of that intellectual + strength which does not strike one immediately, since it is purely + temperamental, but which, nevertheless, invests its possessor with an aura + of distinction. + </p> + <p> + Writing his name at the bottom of the report, Paul Harley enclosed the + pages in a long envelope and dropped the envelope into a basket which + contained a number of other letters. His work for the day was ended, and + glancing at me with a triumphant smile, he stood up. His office was a part + of a residential suite, but although, like some old-time burgher of the + city, he lived on the premises, the shutting of a door which led to his + private rooms marked the close of the business day. Pressing a bell which + connected with the public office occupied by his secretary, Paul Harley + stood up as Innes entered. + </p> + <p> + “There’s nothing further, is there, Innes?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing, Mr. Harley, if you have passed the Home Office report?” + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley laughed shortly. + </p> + <p> + “There it is,” he replied, pointing to the basket; “a tedious and + thankless job, Innes. It is the fifth draft you have prepared and it will + have to do.” + </p> + <p> + He took up a letter which lay unsealed upon the table. “This is the Rokeby + affair,” he said. “I have decided to hold it over, after all, until my + return.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said Innes, quietly glancing at each envelope as he took it from the + basket. “I see you have turned down the little job offered by the + Marquis.” + </p> + <p> + “I have,” replied Harley, smiling grimly, “and a fee of five hundred + guineas with it. I have also intimated to that distressed nobleman that + this is a business office and that a laundry is the proper place to take + his dirty linen. No, there’s nothing further to-night, Innes. You can get + along now. Has Miss Smith gone?” + </p> + <p> + But as if in answer to his enquiry the typist, who with Innes made up the + entire staff of the office, came in at that moment, a card in her hand. + Harley glanced across in my direction and then at the card, with a wry + expression. + </p> + <p> + “Colonel Juan Menendez,” he read aloud, “Cavendish Club,” and glanced + reflectively at Innes. “Do we know the Colonel?” + </p> + <p> + “I think not,” answered Innes; “the name is unfamiliar to me.” + </p> + <p> + “I wonder,” murmured Harley. He glanced across at me. “It’s an awful + nuisance, Knox, but just as I thought the decks were clear. Is it + something really interesting, or does he want a woman watched? However, + his name sounds piquant, so perhaps I had better see him. Ask him to come + in, Miss Smith.” + </p> + <p> + Innes and Miss Smith retiring, there presently entered a man of most + striking and unusual presence. In the first place, Colonel Menendez must + have stood fully six feet in his boots, and he carried himself like a + grandee of the golden days of Spain. His complexion was extraordinarily + dusky, whilst his hair, which was close cropped, was iron gray. His heavy + eyebrows and curling moustache with its little points were equally black, + so that his large teeth gleamed very fiercely when he smiled. His eyes + were large, dark, and brilliant, and although he wore an admirably cut + tweed suit, for some reason I pictured him as habitually wearing riding + kit. Indeed I almost seemed to hear the jingle of his spurs. + </p> + <p> + He carried an ebony cane for which I mentally substituted a crop, and his + black derby hat I thought hardly as suitable as a sombrero. His age might + have been anything between fifty and fifty-five. + </p> + <p> + Standing in the doorway he bowed, and if his smile was Mephistophelean, + there was much about Colonel Juan Menendez which commanded respect. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Harley,” he began, and his high, thin voice afforded yet another + surprise, “I feel somewhat ill at ease to—how do you say it?—appropriate + your time, as I am by no means sure that what I have to say justifies my + doing so.” + </p> + <p> + He spoke most fluent, indeed florid, English. But his sentences at times + were oddly constructed; yet, save for a faint accent, and his frequent + interpolation of such expressions as “how do you say?”—a sort of + nervous mannerism—one might have supposed him to be a Britisher who + had lived much abroad. I formed the opinion that he had read extensively, + and this, as I learned later, was indeed the case. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down, Colonel Menendez,” said Harley with quiet geniality. + “Officially, my working day is ended, I admit, but if you have no + objection to the presence of my friend, Mr. Knox, I shall be most happy to + chat with you.” + </p> + <p> + He smiled in a way all his own. + </p> + <p> + “If your business is of a painfully professional nature,” he added, “I + must beg you to excuse me for fourteen days, as I am taking a badly needed + holiday with my friend.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, is it so?” replied the Colonel, placing his hat and cane upon the + table, and sitting down rather wearily in a big leathern armchair which + Harley had pushed forward. “If I intrude I am sorry, but indeed my + business is urgent, and I come to you on the recommendation of my friend, + Senor Don Merry del Val, the Spanish Ambassador.” + </p> + <p> + He raised his eyes to Harley’s face with an expression of peculiar appeal. + I rose to depart, but: + </p> + <p> + “Sit down, Knox,” said Harley, and turned again to the visitor. “Please + proceed,” he requested. “Mr. Knox has been with me in some of the most + delicate cases which I have ever handled, and you may rely upon his + discretion as you may rely upon mine.” He pushed forward a box of cigars. + “Will you smoke?” + </p> + <p> + “Thanks, no,” was the answer; “you see, I rarely smoke anything but my + cigarettes.” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Menendez extracted a slip of rice paper from a little packet which + he carried, next, dipping two long, yellow fingers into his coat pocket, + he brought out a portion of tobacco, laid it in the paper, and almost in + the twinkling of an eye had made, rolled, and lighted a very creditable + cigarette. His dexterity was astonishing, and seeing my surprise he raised + his heavy eyebrows, and: + </p> + <p> + “Practice makes perfect, is it not said?” he remarked. + </p> + <p> + He shrugged his shoulders and dropped the extinguished match in an ash + tray, whilst I studied him with increasing interest. Some dread, real or + imaginary, was oppressing the man’s mind, I mused. I felt my presence to + be unwelcome, but: + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” he began, suddenly. “I expect, Mr. Harley, that you will be + disposed to regard what I have to tell you rather as a symptom of what you + call nerves than as evidence of any agency directed against me.” + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley stared curiously at the speaker. “Do I understand you to + suspect that someone is desirous of harming you?” he enquired. + </p> + <p> + Colonel Menendez slowly nodded his head. + </p> + <p> + “Such is my meaning,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + “You refer to bodily harm?” + </p> + <p> + “But yes, emphatically.” + </p> + <p> + “Hm,” said Harley; and taking out a tin of tobacco from a cabinet beside + him he began in leisurely manner to load a briar. “No doubt you have good + reasons for this suspicion?” + </p> + <p> + “If I had not good reasons, Mr. Harley, nothing could have induced me to + trouble you. Yet, even now that I have compelled myself to come here, I + find it difficult, almost impossible, to explain those reasons to you.” + </p> + <p> + An expression of embarrassment appeared upon the brown face, and now + Colonel Menendez paused and was plainly at a loss for words with which to + continue. + </p> + <p> + Harley replaced the tin in the cupboard and struck a match. Lighting his + pipe he nodded good humouredly as if to say, “I quite understand.” As a + matter of fact, he probably thought, as I did, that this was a familiar + case of a man of possibly blameless life who had become subject to that + delusion which leads people to believe themselves threatened by mysterious + and unnameable danger. + </p> + <p> + Our visitor inhaled deeply. + </p> + <p> + “You, of course, are waiting for the facts,” he presently resumed, + speaking with a slowness which told of a mind labouring for the right mode + of expression. “These are so scanty, I fear, of so, shall I say, phantom a + kind, that even when they are in your possession you will consider me to + be merely the victim of a delusion. In the first place, then, I have + reason to believe that someone followed me from my home to your office.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed,” said Paul Harley, sympathetically, for this I perceived was + exactly what he had anticipated, and merely tended to confirm his + suspicion. “Some member of your household?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you actually see this follower?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear sir,” cried Colonel Menendez, excitement emphasizing his accent, + “if I had seen him, so much would have been made clear, so much! I have + never seen him, but I have heard him and felt him—felt his presence, + I mean.” + </p> + <p> + “In what way?” asked Harley, leaning back in his chair and studying the + fierce face. + </p> + <p> + “On several occasions on turning out the light in my bedroom and looking + across the lawn from my window I have observed the shadow of someone—how + do you say?—lurking in the garden.” + </p> + <p> + “The shadow?” + </p> + <p> + “Precisely. The person himself was concealed beneath a tree. When he moved + his shadow was visible on the ground.” + </p> + <p> + “You were not deceived by a waving branch?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not. I speak of a still, moonlight night.” + </p> + <p> + “Possibly, then, it was the shadow of a tramp,” suggested Harley. “I + gather that you refer to a house in the country?” + </p> + <p> + “It was not,” declared Colonel Menendez, emphatically; “it was not. I wish + to God I could believe it had been. Then there was, a month ago, an + attempt to enter my house.” + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley exhibited evidence of a quickening curiosity. He had + perceived, as I had perceived, that the manner of the speaker differed + from that of the ordinary victim of delusion, with whom he had become + professionally familiar. + </p> + <p> + “You had actual evidence of this?” he suggested. + </p> + <p> + “It was due to insomnia, sleeplessness, brought about, yes, I will admit + it, by apprehension, that I heard the footsteps of this intruder.” + </p> + <p> + “But you did not see him?” + </p> + <p> + “Only his shadow” + </p> + <p> + “What!” + </p> + <p> + “You can obtain the evidence of all my household that someone had actually + entered,” declared Colonel Menendez, eagerly. “Of this, at least, I can + give you the certain facts. Whoever it was had obtained access through a + kitchen window, had forced two locks, and was coming stealthily along the + hallway when the sound of his footsteps attracted my attention.” + </p> + <p> + “What did you do?” + </p> + <p> + “I came out on to the landing and looked down the stairs. But even the + slight sound which I made had been sufficient to alarm the midnight + visitor, for I had never a glimpse of him. Only, as he went swiftly back + in the direction from which he had come, the moonlight shining in through + a window in the hall cast his shadow on the carpet.” + </p> + <p> + “Strange,” murmured Harley. “Very strange, indeed. The shadow told you + nothing?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing at all.” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Menendez hesitated momentarily, and glanced swiftly across at + Harley. + </p> + <p> + “It was just a vague—do you say blur?—and then it was gone. + But—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Harley. “But?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” Colonel Menendez blew a cloud of smoke into the air, “I come now to + the matter which I find so hard to explain.” + </p> + <p> + He inhaled again deeply and was silent for a while. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing was stolen?” asked Harley. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing whatever.” + </p> + <p> + “And no clue was left behind?” + </p> + <p> + “No clue except the filed fastening of a window and two open doors which + had been locked as usual when the household retired.” + </p> + <p> + “Hm,” mused Harley again; “this incident, of course, may have been an + isolated one and in no way connected with the surveillance of which you + complain. I mean that this person who undoubtedly entered your house might + prove to be an ordinary burglar.” + </p> + <p> + “On a table in the hallway of Cray’s Folly,” replied Colonel Menendez, + impressively—“so my house is named—stands a case containing + presentation gold plate. The moonlight of which I have spoken was shining + fully upon this case, and does the burglar live who will pass such a prize + and leave it untouched?” + </p> + <p> + “I quite agree,” said Harley, quietly, “that this is a very big point.” + </p> + <p> + “You are beginning at last,” suggested the Colonel, “to believe that my + suspicions are not quite groundless?” + </p> + <p> + “There is a distinct possibility that they are more than suspicions,” + agreed Harley; “but may I suggest that there is something else? Have you + an enemy?” + </p> + <p> + “Who that has ever held public office is without enemies?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, quite so. Then I suggest again that there is something else.” + </p> + <p> + He gazed keenly at his visitor, and the latter, whilst meeting the look + unflinchingly with his large dark eyes, was unable to conceal the fact + that he had received a home thrust. + </p> + <p> + “There are two points, Mr. Harley,” he finally confessed, “almost + certainly associated one with the other, if you understand, but both these + so—shall I say remote?—from my life, that I hesitate to + mention them. It seems fantastic to suppose that they contain a clue.” + </p> + <p> + “I beg of you,” said Harley, “to keep nothing back, however remote it may + appear to be. It is sometimes the seemingly remote things which prove upon + investigation to be the most intimate.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” resumed Colonel Menendez, beginning to roll a second + cigarette whilst continuing to smoke the first, “I know that you are + right, of course, but it is nevertheless very difficult for me to explain. + I mentioned the attempted burglary, if so I may term it, in order to clear + your mind of the idea that my fears were a myth. The next point which I + have concerns a man, a neighbour of mine in Surrey. Before I proceed I + should like to make it clear that I do not believe for a moment that he is + responsible for this unpleasant business.” + </p> + <p> + Harley stared at him curiously. “Nevertheless,” he said, “there must be + some data in your possession which suggest to your mind that he has some + connection with it.” + </p> + <p> + “There are, Mr. Harley, but they belong to things so mystic and far away + from ordinary crime that I fear you will think me,” he shrugged his great + shoulders, “a man haunted by strange superstitions. Do you say ‘haunted?’ + Good. You understand. I should tell you, then, that although of pure + Spanish blood, I was born in Cuba. The greater part of my life has been + spent in the West Indies, where prior to ‘98 I held an appointment under + the Spanish Government. I have property, not only in Cuba, but in some of + the smaller islands which formerly were Spanish, and I shall not conceal + from you that during the latter years of my administration I incurred the + enmity of a section of the population. Do I make myself clear?” + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley nodded and exchanged a swift glance with me. I formed a rapid + mental picture of native life under the governorship of Colonel Juan + Menendez and I began to consider his story from a new viewpoint. Seemingly + rendered restless by his reflections, he stood up and began to pace the + floor, a tall but curiously graceful figure. I noticed the bulldog + tenacity of his chin, the intense pride in his bearing, and I wondered + what kind of menace had induced him to seek the aid of Paul Harley; for + whatever his failings might be, and I could guess at the nature of several + of them, that this thin-lipped Spanish soldier knew the meaning of fear I + was not prepared to believe. + </p> + <p> + “Before you proceed further, Colonel Menendez,” said Harley, “might I ask + when you left Cuba?” + </p> + <p> + “Some three years ago,” was his reply. “Because—” he hesitated + curiously—“of health motives, I leased a property in England, + believing that here I should find peace.” + </p> + <p> + “In other words, you were afraid of something or someone in Cuba?” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Menendez turned in a flash, glaring down at the speaker. + </p> + <p> + “I never feared any man in my life, Mr. Harley,” he said, coldly. + </p> + <p> + “Then why are you here?” + </p> + <p> + The Colonel placed the stump of his first cigarette in an ash tray and + lighted that which he had newly made. + </p> + <p> + “It is true,” he admitted. “Forgive me. Yet what I said was that I never + feared any man.” + </p> + <p> + He stood squarely in front of the Burmese cabinet, resting one hand upon + his hip. Then he added a remark which surprised me. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know anything of Voodoo?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley took his pipe from between his teeth and stared at the speaker + silently for a moment. “Voodoo?” he echoed. “You mean negro magic?” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly.” + </p> + <p> + “My studies have certainly not embraced it,” replied Harley, quietly, “nor + has it hitherto come within my experience. But since I have lived much in + the East, I am prepared to learn that Voodoo may not be a negligible + quantity. There are forces at work in India which we in England improperly + understand. The same may be true of Cuba.” + </p> + <p> + “The same <i>is</i> true of Cuba.” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Menendez glared almost fiercely across the room at Paul Harley. + </p> + <p> + “And do I understand,” asked the latter, “that the danger which you + believe to threaten you is associated with Cuba?” + </p> + <p> + “That, Mr. Harley, is for you to decide when all the facts shall be in + your possession. Do you wish that I proceed?” + </p> + <p> + “By all means. I must confess that I am intensely interested.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, Mr. Harley. I have something to show you.” + </p> + <p> + From an inside breast pocket Colonel Menendez drew out a gold-mounted + case, and from the case took some flat, irregularly shaped object wrapped + in a piece of tissue paper. Unfolding the paper, he strode across and laid + the object which it had contained upon the blotting pad in front of my + friend. + </p> + <p> + Impelled by curiosity I stood up and advanced to inspect it. It was of a + dirty brown colour, some five or six inches long, and appeared to consist + of a kind of membrane. Harley, his elbow on the table, was staring down at + it questioningly. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” I said; “some kind of leaf?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” replied Harley, looking up into the dark face of the Spanish + colonel; “I think I know what it is.” + </p> + <p> + “I, also, know what it is.” declared Colonel Menendez, grimly. “But tell + me what to you it seems like, Mr. Harley?” + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley’s expression was compounded of incredulity, wonder, and + something else, as, continuing to stare at the speaker, he replied: + </p> + <p> + “It is the wing of a bat.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. THE VOODOO SWAMP + </h2> + <p> + Often enough my memory has recaptured that moment in Paul Harley’s office, + when Harley, myself, and the tall Spaniard stood looking down at the bat + wing lying upon the blotting pad. + </p> + <p> + My brilliant friend at times displayed a sort of prescience, of which I + may have occasion to speak later, but I, together with the rest of + pur-blind humanity, am commonly immune from the prophetic instinct. + Therefore I chronicle the fact for what it may be worth, that as I gazed + with a sort of disgust at the exhibit lying upon the table I became + possessed of a conviction, which had no logical basis, that a door had + been opened through which I should step into a new avenue of being; I felt + myself to stand upon the threshold of things strange and terrible, but + withal alluring. Perhaps it is true that in the great crises of life the + inner eye becomes momentarily opened. + </p> + <p> + With intense curiosity I awaited the Colonel’s next words, but, a + cigarette held nervously between his fingers, he stood staring at Harley, + and it was the latter who broke that peculiar silence which had fallen + upon us. + </p> + <p> + “The wing of a bat,” he murmured, then touched it gingerly. “Of what kind + of bat, Colonel Menendez? Surely not a British species?” + </p> + <p> + “But emphatically not a British species,” replied the Spaniard. “Yet even + so the matter would be strange.” + </p> + <p> + “I am all anxiety to learn the remainder of your story, Colonel Menendez.” + </p> + <p> + “Good. Your interest comforts me very greatly, Mr. Harley. But when first + I came, you led me to suppose that you were departing from London?” + </p> + <p> + “Such, at the time, was my intention, sir.” Paul Harley smiled slightly. + “Accompanied by my friend, Mr. Knox, I had proposed to indulge in a + fortnight’s fishing upon the Norfolk Broads.” + </p> + <p> + “Fishing?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “A peaceful occupation, Mr. Harley, and a great rest-cure for one who like + yourself moves much amid the fiercer passions of life. You were about to + make holiday?” + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley nodded. + </p> + <p> + “It is cruel of me to intrude upon such plans,” continued Colonel + Menendez, dexterously rolling his cigarette around between his fingers. + “Yet because of my urgent need I dare to do so. Would yourself and your + friend honour me with your company at Cray’s Folly for a few days? I can + promise you good entertainment, although I regret that there is no + fishing; but it may chance that there will be other and more exciting + sport.” + </p> + <p> + Harley glanced at me significantly. + </p> + <p> + “Do I understand you to mean, Colonel Menendez,” he asked, “that you have + reason to believe that this conspiracy directed against you is about to + come to a head?” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Menendez nodded, at the same time bringing his hand down sharply + upon the table. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Harley,” he replied, his high, thin voice sunken almost to a whisper, + “Wednesday night is the night of the full moon.” + </p> + <p> + “The full moon?” + </p> + <p> + “It is at the full moon that the danger comes.” + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley stood up, and watched by the Spanish colonel paced slowly + across the office. At the outer door he paused and turned. + </p> + <p> + “Colonel Menendez,” he said, “that you would willingly waste the time of a + busy man I do not for a moment believe, therefore I shall ask you as + briefly as possible to state your case in detail. When I have heard it, if + it appears to me that any good purpose can be served by my friend and + myself coming to Cray’s Folly I feel sure that he will be happy to accept + your proffered hospitality.” + </p> + <p> + “If I am likely to be of the slightest use I shall be delighted,” said I, + which indeed was perfectly true. + </p> + <p> + Whilst I had willingly agreed to accompany Harley to Norfolk I had none of + his passion for the piscatorial art, and the promise of novel excitement + held out by Colonel Menendez appealed to me more keenly than the lazy days + upon the roads which Harley loved. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen”—the Colonel bowed profoundly—“I am honoured and + delighted. When you shall have heard my story I know what your decision + will be.” + </p> + <p> + He resumed his seat, and began, it seemed almost automatically, to roll a + fresh cigarette. + </p> + <p> + “I am all attention,” declared Harley, and his glance strayed again in a + wondering fashion to the bat wing lying on his table. + </p> + <p> + “I will speak briefly,” resumed our visitor, “and any details which may + seem to you to be important can be discussed later when you are my guests. + You must know then that I first became acquainted with the significance + belonging to the term ‘Bat Wing’ and to the object itself some twenty + years ago.” + </p> + <p> + “But surely,” interrupted Harley, incredulously, “you are not going to + tell me that the menace of which you complain is of twenty years’ + standing?” + </p> + <p> + “At your express request, Mr. Harley,” returned the Colonel a trifle + brusquely, “I am dealing with possibilities which are remote, because in + your own words it is sometimes the remote which proves to be the intimate. + It was then rather more than twenty years ago, at a time when great + political changes were taking place in the West Indies, that my business + interests, which are mainly concerned with sugar, carried me to one of the + smaller islands which had formerly been under—my jurisdiction, do + you say? Here I had a house and estate, and here in the past I had + experienced much trouble with the natives. + </p> + <p> + “I do not disguise from you that I was unpopular, and on my return I met + with unmistakable signs of hostility. My native workmen were + insubordinate. In fact, it was the reports from my overseers which had led + me to visit the island. I made a tour of the place, believing it to be + necessary to my interests that I should get once more in touch with negro + feeling, since I had returned to my home in Cuba after the upheavals in + ‘98. Very well. + </p> + <p> + “The manager of my estate, a capable man, was of opinion that there + existed a secret organization amongst the native labourers operating—you + understand?—against my interests. He produced certain evidences of + this. They were not convincing; and all my enquiries and examinations of + certain inhabitants led to no definite results. Yet I grew more and more + to feel that enemies surrounded me.” + </p> + <p> + He paused to light his third cigarette, and whilst he did so I conjured up + a mental picture of his “examinations of certain inhabitants.” I recalled + hazily those stories of Spanish mismanagement and cruelty which had + directly led to United States interferences in the islands. But whilst I + could well believe that this man’s life had not been safe in those bad old + days in the West Indies, I found it difficult to suppose that a native + plot against his safety could have survived for more than twenty years and + have come to a climax in England. However, I realized that there was more + to follow, and presently, having lighted his cigarette, the Colonel + resumed: + </p> + <p> + “In the neighbourhood of the hacienda which had once been my official + residence there was a belt of low-lying pest country—you understand + pest country?—which was a hot-bed of poisonous diseases. It followed + the winding course of a nearly stagnant creek. From the earliest times the + Black Belt—it was so called—had been avoided by European + inhabitants, and indeed by the coloured population as well. Apart from the + malaria of the swampy ground it was infested with reptiles and with + poisonous insects of a greater variety and of a more venomous character + than I have ever known in any part of the world. + </p> + <p> + “I must explain that what I regarded as a weak point in my manager’s + theory was this: Whilst he held that the native labourers to a man were + linked together under some head, or guiding influence, he had never + succeeded in surprising anything in the nature of a negro meeting. Indeed, + he had prohibited all gatherings of this kind. His answer to my criticism + was a curious one. He declared that the members of this mysterious society + met and received their instructions at some place within the poison area + to which I have referred, believing themselves there to be safe from + European interference. + </p> + <p> + “For a long time I disputed this with poor Valera—for such was my + manager’s name; when one night as I was dismounting from my horse before + the veranda, having returned from a long ride around the estate, a shot + was fired from the border of the Black Belt which at one point crept up + dangerously close to the hacienda. + </p> + <p> + “The shot was a good one. I had caught my spur in the stirrup in + dismounting, and stumbled. Otherwise I must have been a dead man. The + bullet pierced the crown of my hat, only missing my skull by an inch or + less. The alarm was given. But no search-party could be mustered, do you + say?—which was prepared to explore the poison swamp—or so + declared my native servants. Valera, however, seized upon this incident to + illustrate his theory that there were those in the island who did not + hesitate to enter the Black Belt popularly supposed to cast up noxious + vapours at dusk of a sort fatal to any traveller. + </p> + <p> + “That night over our wine we discussed the situation, and he pointed out + to me that now was the hour to test his theory. Orders had evidently been + given for my assassination and the attempt had failed. + </p> + <p> + “‘There will be a meeting,’ said Valera, ‘to discuss the next move. And it + will take place to-morrow night!’ + </p> + <p> + “I challenged him with a glance and I replied: + </p> + <p> + “‘To-morrow night is a full moon, and if you are agreeable we will make a + secret expedition into the swamp, and endeavour to find the clearing which + you say is there, and which you believe to be the rendezvous of the + conspirators.’ + </p> + <p> + “Even in the light of the lamp I saw Valera turn pale, but he was a + Spaniard and a man of courage. + </p> + <p> + “‘I agree, señor,’ he replied. ‘If my information is correct we shall find + the way.’ + </p> + <p> + “I must explain that the information to which he referred had been + supplied by a native girl who loved him. That this clearing was a + meeting-place she had denied. But she had admitted that it was possible to + obtain access to it, and had even described the path.” He paused. “She + died of a lingering sickness.” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Menendez spoke these last words with great deliberation and + treated each of us to a long and significant stare. + </p> + <p> + “Presently,” he added, “I will tell you what was nailed to the wall of her + hut on the night that she fell ill. But to continue my narrative. On the + following evening, suitably equipped, Valera and myself set out, leaving + by a side door and striking into the woods at a point east of the + hacienda, where, according to his information, a footpath existed, which + would lead us to the clearing we desired to visit. Of that journey, + gentlemen, I have most terrible memories. + </p> + <p> + “Imagine a dense and poisonous jungle, carpeted by rotten vegetation in + which one’s feet sank deeply and from which arose a visible and stenching + vapour. Imagine living things, slimy things, moving beneath the tread, + sometimes coiling about our riding boots, sometimes making hissing sounds. + Imagine places where the path was overgrown, and we must thrust our way + through bushes where great bloated spiders weaved their webs, where clammy + night things touched us as we passed, where unfamiliar and venomous + insects clung to our garments. + </p> + <p> + “We proceeded onward for more than half an hour guided by the moonlight, + but this, although tropically brilliant, at some places scarcely + penetrated the thick vapour which arose from the jungle. In those days I + was a young and vigorous man; my companion was several years my senior; + and his sufferings were far greater than my own. But if the jungle was + horrible, worse was yet to come. + </p> + <p> + “Presently we stumbled upon an open space almost quite bare of vegetation, + a poisonous green carpet spread in the heart of the woods. Here the vapour + was more dense than ever, but I welcomed the sight of open ground after + the reptile-infested thicket. Alas! it was a snare, a death-trap, a sort + of morass, in which we sank up to our knees. Pah! it was filthy—vile! + And I became aware of great—lassitude, do you say?—whilst + Valera’s panting breath told that he had almost reached the end of his + resources. + </p> + <p> + “A faint breeze moved through the clearing and for a few moments we were + enabled to perceive one another more distinctly. I uttered an exclamation + of horror. + </p> + <p> + “My companion’s garments were a mass of strange-looking patches. + </p> + <p> + “Even as I noticed them I glanced rapidly down—and found myself in + similar condition. As I did so one of these patches upon the sleeve of my + tunic intruded coldly upon my bare wrist. At that I cried out aloud in + fear. Valera and I commenced what was literally a fight for life. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen, we were attacked by some kind of blood-red leeches, which came + out of the slime! In detaching them one detached patches of skin, and they + swarmed over our bodies like ants upon carrion. + </p> + <p> + “They penetrated beneath our garments, these swollen, lustful, unclean + things; and it was whilst we staggered on through the swamp in agony of + mind and body that we saw the light of many torches amid the trees ahead + of us, and in their smoky glare witnessed the flight of hundreds of bats. + The moonlight creeping dimly through the mist, and the torchlight—how + do you say?—enflaming the vegetation, created a scene like that of + Inferno, in which naked figures danced wildly, uttering animal cries. + </p> + <p> + “Above the shrieking and howling, which rose and fell in a sort of unholy + chorus, I heard one long, wailing sound, repeated and repeated. It was an + African word. But I knew its meaning. + </p> + <p> + “It was ‘<i>Bat Wing</i>!’ + </p> + <p> + “My doubts were dispersed. This was a meeting-place of Devil-worshippers, + or devotees of the cult of Voodoo! One man only could I see clearly so as + to remember him, a big negro employed upon one of my estates. He seemed to + be a sort of high priest or president of the orgies. Attached to his arms + were giant imitations of bat wings which he moved grotesquely as if in + flight. There were many women in the throng, which numbered fully I should + think a hundred people. But the final collapse of my brave, unhappy Valera + at this point brought home to me the nature of the peril in which I stood. + </p> + <p> + “He lay at my feet, moving convulsively, and sinking ever deeper in the + swamp, red leeches moving slowly, slowly over his fast-disappearing body.” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Menendez paused in his appalling narrative and wiped his moist + forehead with a silk handkerchief. Neither Harley nor I spoke. I knew not + if my friend believed the Spaniard’s story. For my own part I found it + difficult to do so. But that the narrator was deeply moved was a fact + beyond dispute. + </p> + <p> + He suddenly commenced again: + </p> + <p> + “My next recollection is of awakening in my own bed at the hacienda. I had + staggered back as far as the veranda, in raving delirium, and in the grip + of a strange fever which prostrated me for many months, and which defied + the knowledge of all the specialists who could be procured from Cuba and + the United States. My survival was due to an iron constitution; but I have + never been the same man. I was ordered to leave the West Indies directly + it became possible for me to be moved. I arranged my affairs accordingly, + and did not return for many years. + </p> + <p> + “Finally, however, I again took up my residence in Cuba, and for a time + all went well, and might have continued to do so, but for the following + incident. One night, being troubled by insomnia—sleeplessness—and + the heat, I walked out on to the balcony in front of my bedroom window. As + I did so, a figure which had been—you say lurking?—somewhere + under the veranda ran swiftly off; but not so swiftly that I failed to + obtain a glimpse of the uplifted face. + </p> + <p> + “It was the big negro! Although many years had elapsed since I had seen + him wearing the bat wings at those unholy rites, I knew him instantly. + </p> + <p> + “On a little table close behind me where I stood lay a loaded revolver. I + snatched it in a flash and fired shot after shot at the retreating + figure.” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Menendez shrugged his shoulders and selected a fresh cigarette + paper. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen,” he continued, “from that moment until this I have gone in + hourly peril of my life. Whether I hit my man or missed him, I have never + known to this day. If he lives or is dead I cannot say. But—” he + paused impressively—“I have told you of something that was nailed to + the hut of a certain native girl? Before she died I knew that it was a + death-token. + </p> + <p> + “On the morning after the episode which I have just related attached to + the main door of the hacienda was found that same token.” + </p> + <p> + “And it was??” said Harley, eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “It was the wing of a bat! + </p> + <p> + “I am perhaps a hasty man. It is in my blood. I tore the unclean thing + from the panel and stamped it under my feet. No one of the servants who + had drawn my attention to its presence would consent to touch it. Indeed, + they all shrank from me as though I, too, were unclean. I endeavoured to + forget it. Who was I to be influenced by the threats of natives? + </p> + <p> + “That night, just at the hour of sunset, a shot was fired at me from a + neighbouring clump of trees, only missing me I think by the fraction of an + inch. I realized that the peril was real, and was one against which I + could not fight. + </p> + <p> + “Permit me to be brief, gentlemen. Six attempts of various kinds were made + upon my life in Cuba. I crossed to the United States. In Washington, the + political capital of the country, an assassin gained access to my hotel + apartment and but for the fact that a friend chanced to call me up on the + telephone at that late hour of the night, thereby awakening me, I should + have received a knife in my heart. I saw the knife in the dim light; I saw + the shadowy figure. I leapt out on the opposite side of the bed, seized a + table-lamp which stood there, and hurled it at my assailant. + </p> + <p> + “There was a crash, a stifled exclamation, shuffling, the door opened, and + my would-be assassin was gone. But I had learned something, and to my old + fears a new one was added.” + </p> + <p> + “What had you learned?” asked Harley, whose interest in the narrative was + displayed by the fact that his pipe had long since gone out. + </p> + <p> + “Vaguely, vaguely, you understand, for there was little light, I had seen + the face of the man. He wore some kind of black cloak doubtless to conceal + his movements. His silhouette resembled that of a bat. But, gentlemen, he + was neither a negro nor even a half-caste; he was of the white races, to + that I could swear.” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Menendez lighted the cigarette which he had been busily rolling, + and fixed his dark eyes upon Harley. + </p> + <p> + “You puzzle me, sir,” said the latter. “Do you wish me to believe that + this cult of Voodoo claims European or American devotees?” + </p> + <p> + “I wish you to believe,” returned the Colonel, “that although as the + result of the alarm which I gave the hotel was searched and the Washington + police exerted themselves to the utmost, no trace was ever found of the + man who had tried to murder me, except”—he extended a long, yellow + forefinger, and pointed to the wing of the bat lying upon Harley’s table—“a + bat wing was found pinned to my bedroom door.” + </p> + <p> + Silence fell for a while; an impressive silence. Truly this was the + strangest story to which I had ever listened. + </p> + <p> + “How long ago was that?” asked Harley. + </p> + <p> + “Only two years ago. At about the time that the great war terminated. I + came to Europe and believed that at last I had found security. I lived for + a time in London amidst a refreshing peace that was new to me. Then, + chancing to hear of a property in Surrey which was available, I leased it + for a period of years, installing—is it correct?—my cousin, + Madame de Stämer, as housekeeper. Madame, alas, is an invalid, but”—he + kissed his fingers—“a genius. She has with her, as companion, a very + charming English girl, Miss Val Beverley, the orphaned daughter of a + distinguished surgeon of Edinburg. Miss Beverley was with my cousin in the + hospital which she established in France during the war. If you will + honour me with your presence at Cray’s Folly to-morrow, gentlemen, you + will not lack congenial company, I can assure you.” + </p> + <p> + He raised his heavy eyebrows, looking interrogatively from Harley to + myself. + </p> + <p> + “For my own part,” said my friend, slowly, “I shall be delighted. What do + you say, Knox?” + </p> + <p> + “I also.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” continued Harley, “your presence here today, Colonel Menendez, + suggests to my mind that England has not proved so safe a haven as you had + anticipated?” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Menendez crossed the room and stood once more before the Burmese + cabinet, one hand resting upon his hip; a massive yet graceful figure. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Harley,” he replied, “four days ago my butler, who is a Spaniard, + brought me—” He pointed to the bat wing lying upon the blotting pad. + “He had found it pinned to an oaken panel of the main entrance door.” + </p> + <p> + “Was it prior to this discovery, or after it,” asked Harley, “that you + detected the presence of someone lurking in the neighbourhood of the + house?” + </p> + <p> + “Before it.” + </p> + <p> + “And the burglarious entrance?” + </p> + <p> + “That took place rather less than a month ago. On the eve of the full + moon.” + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley stood up and relighted his pipe. + </p> + <p> + “There are quite a number of other details, Colonel,” he said, “which I + shall require you to place in my possession. Since I have determined to + visit Cray’s Folly, these can wait until my arrival. I particularly refer + to a remark concerning a neighbour of yours in Surrey.” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Menendez nodded, twirling his cigarette between his long, yellow + fingers. + </p> + <p> + “It is a delicate matter, gentlemen,” he confessed. + </p> + <p> + “I must take time to consider how I shall place it before you. But I may + count upon your arrival tomorrow?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly. I am looking forward to the visit with keen interest.” + </p> + <p> + “It is important,” declared our visitor; “for on Wednesday is the full + moon, and the full moon is in some way associated with the sacrificial + rites of Voodoo.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. THE VAMPIRE BAT + </h2> + <p> + An hour had elapsed since the departure of our visitor, and Paul Harley + and I sat in the cosy, book-lined study discussing the strange story which + had been related to us. Harley, who had a friend attached to the Spanish + Embassy, had succeeded in getting in touch with him at his chambers, and + had obtained some few particulars of interest concerning Colonel Don Juan + Sarmiento Menendez, for such were the full names and titles of our late + caller. + </p> + <p> + He was apparently the last representative of a once great Spanish family, + established for many generations in Cuba. His wealth was incalculable, + although the value of his numerous estates had depreciated in recent + years. His family had produced many men of subtle intellect and powerful + administrative qualities; but allied to this they had all possessed traits + of cruelty and debauchery which at one time had made the name of Menendez + a by-word in the West Indies. That there were many people in that part of + the world who would gladly have assassinated the Colonel, Paul Harley’s + informant did not deny. But although this information somewhat enlarged + our knowledge of my friend’s newest client, it threw no fresh light upon + that side of his story which related to Voodoo and the extraordinary bat + wing episodes. + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” said Harley, after a long silence, “there is one possibility + of which we must not lose sight.” + </p> + <p> + “What possibility is that?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “That Menendez may be mad. Remorse for crimes of cruelty committed in his + youth, and beyond doubt he has been guilty of many, may have led to a sort + of obsession. I have known such cases.” + </p> + <p> + “That was my first impression,” I confessed, “but it faded somewhat as the + Colonel’s story proceeded. I don’t think any such explanation would cover + the facts.” + </p> + <p> + “Neither do I,” agreed my friend; “but it is distinctly possible that such + an obsession exists, and that someone is deliberately playing upon it for + his own ends.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean that someone who knows of these episodes in the earlier life of + Menendez is employing them now for a secret purpose of his own?” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly.” + </p> + <p> + “It renders the case none the less interesting.” + </p> + <p> + “I quite agree, Knox. With you, I believe, that even if the Colonel is not + quite sane, at the same time his fears are by no means imaginary.” + </p> + <p> + He gingerly took up the bat wing from the arm of his chair where he had + placed it after a detailed examination. + </p> + <p> + “It seems to be pretty certain,” he said, “that this thing is the wing of + a Desmodus or Vampire Bat. Now, according to our authority”—he + touched a work which lay open on the other arm of his chair—“these + are natives of tropical America, therefore the presence of a living + vampire bat in Surrey is not to be anticipated. I am personally satisfied, + however, that this unpleasant fragment has been preserved in some way.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean that it is part of a specimen from someone’s collection?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite possibly. But even a collection of such bats would be quite a + novelty. I don’t know that I can recollect one outside the Museums. To + follow this bat wing business further: there was one very curious point in + the Colonel’s narrative. You recollect his reference to a native girl who + had betrayed certain information to the manager of the estate?” + </p> + <p> + I nodded rapidly. + </p> + <p> + “A bat wing was affixed to the wall of her hut and she died, according to + our informant, of a lingering sickness. Now this lingering sickness might + have been anæmia, and anæmia may be induced, either in man or beast, by + frequent but unsuspected visits of a Vampire Bat.” + </p> + <p> + “Good heavens, Harley!” I exclaimed, “what a horrible idea.” + </p> + <p> + “It <i>is</i> a horrible idea, but in countries infested by these + creatures such things happen occasionally. I distinctly recollect a story + which I once heard, of a little girl in some district of tropical America + falling into such a decline, from which she was only rescued in the nick + of time by the discovery that one of these Vampire Bats, a particularly + large one, had formed the habit of flying into her room at night and + attaching itself to her bare arm which lay outside the coverlet.” + </p> + <p> + “How did it penetrate the mosquito curtains?” I enquired, incredulously. + </p> + <p> + “The very point, Knox, which led to the discovery of the truth. The thing, + exhibiting a sort of uncanny intelligence, used to work its way up under + the edge of the netting. This disturbance of the curtains was noticed on + several occasions by the nurse who occupied an adjoining room, and finally + led to the detection of the bat!” + </p> + <p> + “But surely,” I said, “such a visitation would awaken any sleeper?” + </p> + <p> + “On the contrary, it induces deeper sleep. But I have not yet come to my + point, Knox. The vengeance of the High Priest of Voodoo, who figured in + the Colonel’s narrative, was characteristic in the case of the native + woman, since her symptoms at least simulated those which would result from + the visits of a Vampire Bat, although of course they may have been due to + a slow poison. But you will not have failed to note that the several + attacks upon the Colonel personally were made with more ordinary weapons. + On two occasions at least a rifle was employed.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” I replied, slowly. “You are wondering why the lingering sickness + did not visit him?” + </p> + <p> + “I am, Knox. I can only suppose that he proved to be immune. You recall + his statement that he made an almost miraculous recovery from the fever + which attacked him after his visit to the Black Belt? This would seem to + point to the fact that he possesses that rare type of constitution which + almost defies organisms deadly to ordinary men.” + </p> + <p> + “I see. Hence the dagger and the rifle?” + </p> + <p> + “So it would appear.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Harley,” I cried, “what appalling crime can the man have committed + to call down upon his head a vengeance which has survived for so many + years?” + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley shrugged his shoulders in a whimsical imitation of the + Spaniard. + </p> + <p> + “I doubt if the feud dates any earlier,” he replied, “than the time of + Menendez’s last return to Cuba. On that occasion he evidently killed the + High Priest of Voodoo.” + </p> + <p> + I uttered an exclamation of scorn. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Harley,” I said, “the whole thing is too utterly fantastic. I + begin to believe again that we are dealing with a madman.” + </p> + <p> + Harley glanced down at the wing of the bat. + </p> + <p> + “We shall see,” he murmured. “Even if the only result of our visit is to + make the acquaintance of the Colonel’s household our time will not have + been wasted.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said I, “that is true enough. I am looking forward to meeting Madame + de Stämer—” + </p> + <p> + “The Colonel’s invalid cousin,” added Harley, tonelessly. + </p> + <p> + “And her companion, Miss Beverley.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite so. Nor must we forget the Spanish butler, and the Colonel himself, + whose acquaintance I am extremely anxious to renew.” + </p> + <p> + “The whole thing is wildly bizarre, Harley.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Knox,” he replied, stretching himself luxuriously in the long + lounge chair, “the most commonplace life hovers on the edge of the + bizarre. But those of us who overstep the border become preposterous in + the eyes of those who have never done so. This is not because the unusual + is necessarily the untrue, but because writers of fiction have claimed the + unusual as their particular province, and in doing so have divorced it + from fact in the public eye. Thus I, myself, am a myth, and so are you, + Knox!” + </p> + <p> + He raised his hand and pointed to the doorway communicating with the + office. + </p> + <p> + “We owe our mythological existence to that American genius whose portrait + hangs beside the Burmese cabinet and who indiscreetly created the + character of C. Auguste Dupin. The doings of this amateur investigator + were chronicled by an admirer, you may remember, since when no private + detective has been allowed to exist outside the pages of fiction. My most + trivial habits confirm my unreality. + </p> + <p> + “For instance, I have a friend who is good enough sometimes to record my + movements. So had Dupin. I smoke a pipe. So did Dupin. I investigate + crime, and I am sometimes successful. Here I differ from Dupin. Dupin was + always successful. But my argument is this—you complain that the + life of Colonel Don Juan Sarmiento Menendez, on his own showing, has been + at least as romantic as his name. It would not be accounted romantic by + the adventurous, Knox; it is only romantic to the prosaic mind. In the + same way his name is only unusual to our English ears. In Spain it would + pass unnoticed.” + </p> + <p> + “I see your point,” I said, grudgingly; “but think of I Voodoo in the + Surrey Hills.” + </p> + <p> + “I am thinking of it, Knox, and it affords me much delight to think of it. + You have placed your finger I upon the very point I was endeavouring to + make. Voodoo in the Surrey Hills! Quite so. Voodoo in some island of the + Caribbean Seas, yes, but Voodoo in the Surrey Hills, no. Yet, my dear + fellow, there is a regular steamer service between South America and + England. Or one may embark at Liverpool and disembark in the Spanish Main. + Why, then, may not one embark in the West Indies and disembark at + Liverpool? This granted, you will also grant that from Liverpool to Surrey + is a feasible journey. Why, then, should you exclaim, ‘but Voodoo in the + Surrey Hills!’ You would be surprised to meet an Esquimaux in the Strand, + but there is no reason why an Esquimaux should not visit the Strand. In + short, the most annoying thing about fact is its resemblance to fiction. I + am looking forward to the day, Knox, when I can retire from my present + fictitious profession and become a recognized member of the community; + such as a press agent, a theatrical manager, or some other dealer in + Fact!” + </p> + <p> + He burst out laughing, and reaching over to a side-table refilled my glass + and his own. + </p> + <p> + “There lies the wing of a Vampire Bat,” he said, pointing, “in Chancery + Lane. It is impossible. Yet,” he raised his glass, “‘Pussyfoot’ Johnson + has visited Scotland, the home of Whisky!” + </p> + <p> + We were silent for a while, whilst I considered his remarks. + </p> + <p> + “The conclusion to which I have come,” declared Harley, “is that nothing + is so strange as the commonplace. A rod and line, a boat, a luncheon + hamper, a jar of good ale, and the peculiar peace of a Norfolk river—these + joys I willingly curtail in favour of the unknown things which await us at + Cray’s Folly. Remember, Knox,” he stared at me queerly, “Wednesday is the + night of the full moon.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. CRAY’S FOLLY + </h2> + <p> + Paul Harley lay back upon the cushions and glanced at me with a quizzical + smile. The big, up-to-date car which Colonel Menendez had placed at our + disposal was surmounting a steep Surrey lane as though no gradient had + existed. + </p> + <p> + “Some engine!” he said, approvingly. + </p> + <p> + I nodded in agreement, but felt disinclined for conversation, being + absorbed in watching the characteristically English scenery. This, indeed, + was very beautiful. The lane along which we were speeding was narrow, + winding, and over-arched by trees. Here and there sunlight penetrated to + spread a golden carpet before us, but for the most part the way lay in + cool and grateful shadow. + </p> + <p> + On one side a wooded slope hemmed us in blackly, on the other lay dell + after dell down into the cradle of the valley. It was a poetic corner of + England, and I thought it almost unbelievable that London was only some + twenty miles behind. A fit place this for elves and fairies to survive, a + spot in which the presence of a modern automobile seemed a desecration. + Higher we mounted and higher, the engine running strongly and smoothly; + then, presently, we were out upon a narrow open road with the crescent of + the hills sweeping away on the right and dense woods dipping valleyward to + the left and behind us. + </p> + <p> + The chauffeur turned, and, meeting my glance: + </p> + <p> + “Cray’s Folly, sir,” he said. + </p> + <p> + He jerked his hand in the direction of a square, gray-stone tower somewhat + resembling a campanile, which uprose from a distant clump of woods + cresting a greater eminence. + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” murmured Harley, “the famous tower.” + </p> + <p> + Following the departure of the Colonel on the previous evening, he had + looked up Cray’s Folly and had found it to be one of a series of houses + erected by the eccentric and wealthy man whose name it bore. He had had a + mania for building houses with towers, in which his rival—and + contemporary—had been William Beckford, the author of “Vathek,” a + work which for some obscure reason has survived as well as two of the + three towers erected by its writer. + </p> + <p> + I became conscious of a keen sense of anticipation. In this, I think, the + figure of Miss Val Beverley played a leading part. There was something + pathetic in the presence of this lonely English girl in so singular a + household; for if the menage at Cray’s Folly should prove half so strange + as Colonel Menendez had led us to believe, then truly we were about to + find ourselves amid unusual people. + </p> + <p> + Presently the road inclined southward somewhat and we entered the fringe + of the trees. I noticed one or two very ancient cottages, but no trace of + the modern builder. This was a fragment of real Old England, and I was not + sorry when presently we lost sight of the square tower; for amidst such + scenery it was an anomaly and a rebuke. + </p> + <p> + What Paul Harley’s thoughts may have been I cannot say, but he preserved + an unbroken silence up to the very moment that we came to the gate lodge. + </p> + <p> + The gates were monstrosities of elaborate iron scrollwork, craftsmanship + clever enough in its way, but of an ornate kind more in keeping with the + orange trees of the South than with this wooded Surrey countryside. + </p> + <p> + A very surly-looking girl, quite obviously un-English (a daughter of + Pedro, the butler, I learned later), opened the gates, and we entered upon + a winding drive literally tunnelled through the trees. Of the house we had + never a glimpse until we were right under its walls, nor should I have + known that we were come to the main entrance if the car had not stopped. + </p> + <p> + “Looks like a monastery,” muttered Harley. + </p> + <p> + Indeed that part of the building—the north front—which was + visible from this point had a strangely monastic appearance, being built + of solid gray blocks and boasting only a few small, heavily barred + windows. The eccentricity of the Victorian gentleman who had expended + thousands of pounds upon erecting this house was only equalled, I thought, + by that of Colonel Menendez, who had chosen it for a home. An out-jutting + wing shut us in on the west, and to the east the prospect was closed by + the tallest and most densely grown box hedge I had ever seen, trimmed most + perfectly and having an arched opening in the centre. Thus, the entrance + to Cray’s Folly lay in a sort of bay. + </p> + <p> + But even as we stepped from the car, the great church-like oaken doors + were thrown open, and there, framed in the monkish porch, stood the tall, + elegant figure of the Colonel. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen,” he cried, “welcome to Cray’s Folly.” + </p> + <p> + He advanced smiling, and in the bright sunlight seemed even more + Mephistophelean than he had seemed in Harley’s office. + </p> + <p> + “Pedro,” he called, and a strange-looking Spanish butler who wore his + side-whiskers like a bull fighter appeared behind his master; a sallow, + furtive fellow with whom I determined I should never feel at ease. + </p> + <p> + However, the Colonel greeted us heartily enough, and conducted us through + a kind of paved, covered courtyard into a great lofty hall. Indeed it more + closely resembled a studio, being partly lighted by a most curious dome. + It was furnished in a manner quite un-English, but very luxuriously. A + magnificent oaken staircase communicated with a gallery on the left, and + at the foot of this staircase, in a mechanical chair which she managed + with astonishing dexterity, sat Madame de Stämer. + </p> + <p> + She had snow-white hair crowning the face of a comparatively young woman, + and large, dark-brown eyes which reminded me strangely of the eyes of some + animal although in the first moment of meeting I could not identify the + resemblance. Her hands were very slender and beautiful, and when, as the + Colonel presented us, she extended her fingers, I was not surprised to see + Harley stoop and kiss them in Continental fashion; for this Madame + evidently expected. I followed suit; but truth to tell, after that first + glance at the masterful figure in the invalid chair I had had no eyes for + Madame de Stämer, being fully employed in gazing at someone who stood + beside her. + </p> + <p> + This was an evasively pretty girl, or such was my first impression. That + is to say, that whilst her attractiveness was beyond dispute, analysis of + her small features failed to detect from which particular quality this + charm was derived. The contour of her face certainly formed a delightful + oval, and there was a wistful look in her eyes which was half appealing + and half impish. Her demure expression was not convincing, and there + rested a vague smile, or promise of a smile, upon lips which were + perfectly moulded, and indeed the only strictly regular feature of a + nevertheless bewitching face. She had slightly curling hair and the line + of her neck and shoulder was most graceful and charming. Of one thing I + was sure: She was glad to see visitors at Cray’s Folly. + </p> + <p> + “And now, gentlemen,” said Colonel Menendez, “having presented you to + Madame, my cousin, permit me to present you to Miss Val Beverley, my + cousin’s companion, and our very dear friend.” + </p> + <p> + The girl bowed in a formal English fashion, which contrasted sharply with + the Continental manner of Madame. Her face flushed slightly, and as I met + her glance she lowered her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Now M. Harley and M. Knox,” said Madame, vivaciously, “you are quite at + home. Pedro will show you to your rooms and lunch will be ready in half an + hour.” + </p> + <p> + She waved her white hand coquettishly, and ignoring the proffered aid of + Miss Beverley, wheeled her chair away at a great rate under a sort of arch + on the right of the hall, which communicated with the domestic offices of + the establishment. + </p> + <p> + “Is she not wonderful?” exclaimed Colonel Menendez, taking Harley’s left + arm and my right and guiding us upstairs followed by Pedro and the + chauffeur, the latter carrying our grips. “Many women would be prostrated + by such an affliction, but she—” he shrugged his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + Harley and I had been placed in adjoining rooms. I had never seen such + rooms as those in Cray’s Folly. The place contained enough oak to have + driven a modern builder crazy. Oak had simply been lavished upon it. My + own room, which was almost directly above the box hedge to which I have + referred, had a beautiful carved ceiling and a floor as highly polished as + that of a ballroom. It was tastefully furnished, but the foreign note was + perceptible everywhere. + </p> + <p> + “We have here some grand prospects,” said the Colonel, and truly enough + the view from the great, high, wide window was a very fine one. + </p> + <p> + I perceived that the grounds of Cray’s Folly were extensive and carefully + cultivated. I had a glimpse of a Tudor sunken garden, but the best view of + this was from the window of Harley’s room, which because it was the end + room on the north front overlooked another part of the grounds, and + offered a prospect of the east lawns and distant park land. + </p> + <p> + When presently Colonel Menendez and I accompanied my friend there I was + charmed by the picturesque scene below. Here was a real old herbal garden, + gay with flowers and intersected by tiled moss-grown paths. There were + bushes exhibiting fantastic examples of the topiary art, and here, too, + was a sun-dial. My first impression of this beautiful spot was one of + delight. Later I was to regard that enchanted demesne with something akin + to horror; but as we stood there watching a gardener clipping the bushes I + thought that although Cray’s Folly might be adjudged ugly, its grounds + were delightful. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly Harley turned to our host. “Where is the famous tower?” he + enquired. “It is not visible from the front of the house, nor from the + drive.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” replied the Colonel, “it is right out at the end of the east + wing, which is disused. I keep it locked up. There are four rooms in the + tower and a staircase, of course, but it is inconvenient. I cannot imagine + why it was built.” + </p> + <p> + “The architect may have had some definite object in view,” said Harley, + “or it may have been merely a freak of his client. Is there anything + characteristic about the topmost room, for instance?” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Menendez shrugged his massive shoulders. “Nothing,” he replied. + “It is the same as the others below, except that there is a stair leading + to a gallery on the roof. Presently I will take you up, if you wish.” + </p> + <p> + “I should be interested,” murmured Harley, and tactfully changed the + subject, which evidently was not altogether pleasing to our host. I + concluded that he had found the east wing of the house something of a + white elephant, and was accordingly sensitive upon the point. + </p> + <p> + Presently, then, he left us and I returned to my own room, but before long + I rejoined Harley. I did not knock but entered unceremoniously. + </p> + <p> + “Halloa!” I exclaimed. “What have you seen?” + </p> + <p> + He was standing staring out of the window, nor did he turn as I entered. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” I said, joining him. + </p> + <p> + He glanced at me oddly. + </p> + <p> + “An impression,” he replied; “but it has gone now.” + </p> + <p> + “I understand,” I said, quietly. + </p> + <p> + Familiarity with crime in many guises and under many skies had developed + in Paul Harley a sort of sixth sense. It was a fugitive, fickle thing, as + are all the powers which belong to the realm of genius or inspiration. + Often enough it failed him entirely, he had assured me, that odd, sudden + chill as of an abrupt lowering of the temperature, which, I understood, + often advised him of the nearness of enmity actively malignant. + </p> + <p> + Now, standing at the window, looking down into that old-world garden, he + was “sensing” the atmosphere keenly, seeking for the note of danger. It + was sheer intuition, perhaps, but whilst he could never rely upon its + answering his summons, once active it never misled him. + </p> + <p> + “You think some real menace overhangs Colonel Menendez?” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure of it.” He stared into my face. “There is something very, very + strange about this bat wing business.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you still incline to the idea that he has been followed to England?” + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley reflected for a moment, then: + </p> + <p> + “That explanation would be almost too simple,” he said. “There is + something bizarre, something unclean—I had almost said unholy—at + work in this house, Knox.” + </p> + <p> + “He has foreign servants.” + </p> + <p> + Harley shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “I shall make it my business to become acquainted with all of them,” he + replied, “but the danger does not come from there. Let us go down to + lunch.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V. VAL BEVERLEY + </h2> + <p> + The luncheon was so good as to be almost ostentatious. One could not have + lunched better at the Carlton. Yet, since this luxurious living was + evidently customary in the colonel’s household, a charge of ostentation + would not have been deserved. The sinister-looking Pedro proved to be an + excellent servant; and because of the excitement of feeling myself to + stand upon the edge of unusual things, the enjoyment of a perfectly served + repast, and the sheer delight which I experienced in watching the play of + expression upon the face of Miss Beverley, I count that luncheon at Cray’s + Folly a memorable hour of my life. + </p> + <p> + Frankly, Val Beverley puzzled me. It may or may not have been curious, + that amidst such singular company I selected for my especial study a girl + so freshly and typically English. I had thought at the moment of meeting + her that she was provokingly pretty; I determined, as the lunch proceeded, + that she was beautiful. Once I caught Harley smiling at me in his + quizzical fashion, and I wondered guiltily if I were displaying an undue + interest in the companion of Madame. + </p> + <p> + Many topics were discussed, I remember, and beyond doubt the colonel’s + cousin-housekeeper dominated the debate. She possessed extraordinary force + of personality. Her English was not nearly so fluent as that spoken by the + colonel, but this handicap only served to emphasize the masculine strength + of her intellect. Truly she was a remarkable woman. With her blanched hair + and her young face, and those fine, velvety eyes which possessed a quality + almost hypnotic, she might have posed for the figure of a sorceress. She + had unfamiliar gestures and employed her long white hands in a manner that + was new to me and utterly strange. + </p> + <p> + I could detect no family resemblance between the cousins, and I wondered + if their kinship were very distant. One thing was evident enough: Madame + de Stämer was devoted to the Colonel. Her expression when she looked at + him changed entirely. For a woman of such intense vitality her eyes were + uncannily still; that is to say that whilst she frequently moved her head + she rarely moved her eyes. Again and again I found myself wondering where + I had seen such eyes before. I lived to identify that memory, as I shall + presently relate. + </p> + <p> + In vain I endeavoured to define the relationship between these three + people, so incongruously set beneath one roof. Of the fact that Miss + Beverly was not happy I became assured. But respecting her exact position + in the household I was reduced to surmises. + </p> + <p> + The Colonel improved on acquaintance. I decided that he belonged to an + order of Spanish grandees now almost extinct. I believed he would have + made a very staunch friend; I felt sure he would have proved a most + implacable enemy. Altogether, it was a memorable meal, and one notable + result of that brief companionship was a kind of link of understanding + between myself and Miss Beverley. + </p> + <p> + Once, when I had been studying Madame de Stämer, and again, as I removed + my glance from the dark face of Colonel Menendez, I detected the girl + watching me; and her eyes said, “You understand; so do I.” + </p> + <p> + Some things perhaps I did understand, but how few the near future was to + show. + </p> + <p> + The signal for our departure from table was given by Madame de Stämer. She + whisked her chair back with extraordinary rapidity, the contrast between + her swift, nervous movements and those still, basilisk eyes being almost + uncanny. + </p> + <p> + “Off you go, Juan,” she said; “your visitors would like to see the garden, + no doubt. I must be away for my afternoon siesta. Come, my dear”—to + the girl—“smoke one little cigarette with me, then I will let you + go.” + </p> + <p> + She retired, wheeling herself rapidly out of the room, and my glance + lingered upon the graceful figure of Val Beverley until both she and + Madame were out of sight. + </p> + <p> + “Now, gentlemen,” said the Colonel, resuming his seat and pushing the + decanter toward Paul Harley, “I am at your service either for business or + amusement. I think”—to Harley—“you expressed a desire to see + the tower?” + </p> + <p> + “I did,” my friend replied, lighting his cigar, “but only if it would + amuse you to show me.” + </p> + <p> + “Decidedly. Mr. Knox will join us?” + </p> + <p> + Harley, unseen by the Colonel, glanced at me in a way which I knew. + </p> + <p> + “Thanks all the same,” I said, smiling, “but following a perfect luncheon + I should much prefer to loll upon the lawn, if you don’t mind.” + </p> + <p> + “But certainly I do not mind,” cried the Colonel. “I wish you to be + happy.” + </p> + <p> + “Join you in a few minutes, Knox,” said Harley as he went out with our + host. + </p> + <p> + “All right,” I replied, “I should like to take a stroll around the + gardens. You will join me there later, no doubt.” + </p> + <p> + As I walked out into the bright sunshine I wondered why Paul Harley had + wished to be left alone with Colonel Menendez, but knowing that I should + learn his motive later, I strolled on through the gardens, my mind filled + with speculations respecting these unusual people with whom Fate had + brought me in contact. I felt that Miss Beverley needed protection of some + kind, and I was conscious of a keen desire to afford her that protection. + In her glance I had read, or thought I had read, an appeal for sympathy. + </p> + <p> + Not the least mystery of Cray’s Folly was the presence of this girl. Only + toward the end of luncheon had I made up my mind upon a point which had + been puzzling me. Val Beverley’s gaiety was a cloak. Once I had detected + her watching Madame de Stämer with a look strangely like that of fear. + </p> + <p> + Puffing contentedly at my cigar I proceeded to make a tour of the house. + It was constructed irregularly. Practically the entire building was of + gray stone, which created a depressing effect even in the blazing + sunlight, lending Cray’s Folly something of an austere aspect. There were + fine lofty windows, however, to most of the ground-floor rooms overlooking + the lawns, and some of those above had balconies of the same gray stone. + Quite an extensive kitchen garden and a line of glasshouses adjoined the + west wing, and here were outbuildings, coach-houses and a garage, all + connected by a covered passage with the servants’ quarters. + </p> + <p> + Pursuing my enquiries, I proceeded to the north front of the building, + which was closely hemmed in by trees, and which as we had observed on our + arrival resembled the entrance to a monastery. + </p> + <p> + Passing the massive oaken door by which we had entered and which was now + closed again, I walked on through the opening in the box hedge into a part + of the grounds which was not so sprucely groomed as the rest. On one side + were the yews flanking the Tudor garden and before me uprose the famous + tower. As I stared up at the square structure, with its uncurtained + windows, I wondered, as others had wondered before me, what could have + ever possessed any man to build it. + </p> + <p> + Visible at points for many miles around, it undoubtedly disfigured an + otherwise beautiful landscape. + </p> + <p> + I pressed on, noting that the windows of the rooms in the east wing were + shuttered and the apartments evidently disused. I came to the base of the + tower, To the south, the country rose up to the highest point in the + crescent of hills, and peeping above the trees at no great distance away, + I detected the red brick chimneys of some old house in the woods. North + and east, velvet sward swept down to the park. + </p> + <p> + As I stood there admiring the prospect and telling myself that no Voodoo + devilry could find a home in this peaceful English countryside, I detected + a faint sound of voices far above. Someone had evidently come out upon the + gallery of the tower. I looked upward, but I could not see the speakers. I + pursued my stroll, until, near the eastern base of the tower, I + encountered a perfect thicket of rhododendrons. Finding no path through + this shrubbery, I retraced my steps, presently entering the Tudor garden; + and there strolling toward me, a book in her hand, was Miss Beverley. + </p> + <p> + “Holloa, Mr. Knox,” she called; “I thought you had gone up the tower?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” I replied, laughing, “I lack the energy.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you?” she said, softly, “then sit down and talk to me.” + </p> + <p> + She dropped down upon a grassy bank, looking up at me invitingly, and I + accepted the invitation without demur. + </p> + <p> + “I love this old garden,” she declared, “although of course it is really + no older than the rest of the place. I always think there should be + peacocks, though.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” I agreed, “peacocks would be appropriate.” + </p> + <p> + “And little pages dressed in yellow velvet.” + </p> + <p> + She met my glance soberly for a moment and then burst into a peal of merry + laughter. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know, Miss Beverley,” I said, watching her, “I find it hard to + place you in the household of the Colonel.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” she said simply; “you must.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, then you realize that you are—” + </p> + <p> + “Out of place here?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course I am.” + </p> + <p> + She smiled, shook her head, and changed the subject. + </p> + <p> + “I am so glad Mr. Paul Harley has come down,” she confessed. + </p> + <p> + “You know my friend by name, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she replied, “someone I met in Nice spoke of him, and I know he is + very clever.” + </p> + <p> + “In Nice? Did you live in Nice before you came here?” + </p> + <p> + Val Beverley nodded slowly, and her glance grew oddly retrospective. + </p> + <p> + “I lived for over a year with Madame de Stämer in a little villa on the + Promenade des Anglaise,” she replied. “That was after Madame was injured.” + </p> + <p> + “She sustained her injuries during the war, I understand?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Poor Madame. The hospital of which she was in charge was bombed and + the shock left her as you see her. I was there, too, but I luckily escaped + without injury.” + </p> + <p> + “What, you were there?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. That was where I first met Madame de Stämer. She used to be very + wealthy, you see, and she established this hospital in France at her own + expense, and I was one of her assistants for a time. She lost both her + husband and her fortune in the war, and as if that were not bad enough, + lost the use of her limbs, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor woman,” I said. “I had no idea her life had been so tragic. She has + wonderful courage.” + </p> + <p> + “Courage!” exclaimed the girl, “if you knew all that I know about her.” + </p> + <p> + Her face grew sweetly animated as she bent toward me excitedly and + confidentially. + </p> + <p> + “Really, she is simply wonderful. I learned to respect her in those days + as I have never respected any other woman in the world; and when, after + all her splendid work, she, so vital and active, was stricken down like + that, I felt that I simply could not leave her, especially as she asked me + to stay.” + </p> + <p> + “So you went with her to Nice?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Then the Colonel took this house, and we came here, but—” + </p> + <p> + She hesitated, and glanced at me curiously. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you are not quite happy?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” she said, “I am not. You see it was different in France. I knew so + many people. But here at Cray’s Folly it is so lonely, and Madame is—” + </p> + <p> + Again she hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” she laughed in an embarrassed fashion, “I am afraid of her at + times.” + </p> + <p> + “In what way?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, in a silly, womanish sort of way. Of course she is a wonderful + manager; she rules the house with a rod of iron. But really I haven’t + anything to do here, and I feel frightfully out of place sometimes. Then + the Colonel—Oh, but what am I talking about?” + </p> + <p> + “Won’t you tell me what it is that the Colonel fears?” + </p> + <p> + “You know that he fears something, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course. That is why Paul Harley is here.” + </p> + <p> + A change came over the girl’s face; a look almost of dread. + </p> + <p> + “I wish I knew what it all meant.” + </p> + <p> + “You are aware, then, that there is something wrong?” + </p> + <p> + “Naturally I am. Sometimes I have been so frightened that I have made up + my mind to leave the very next day.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean that you have been frightened at night?” I asked with curiosity. + </p> + <p> + “Dreadfully frightened.” + </p> + <p> + “Won’t you tell me in what way?” + </p> + <p> + She looked up at me swiftly, then turned her head aside, and bit her lip. + </p> + <p> + “No, not now,” she replied. “I can’t very well.” + </p> + <p> + “Then at least tell me why you stayed?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” she smiled rather pathetically, “for one thing, I haven’t anywhere + else to go.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you no friends in England?” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “No. There was only poor daddy, and he died over two years ago. That was + when I went to Nice.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor little girl,” I said; and the words were spoken before I realized + their undue familiarity. + </p> + <p> + An apology was on the tip of my tongue, but Miss Beverley did not seem to + have noticed the indiscretion. Indeed my sympathy was sincere, and I think + she had appreciated the fact. + </p> + <p> + She looked up again with a bright smile. + </p> + <p> + “Why are we talking about such depressing things on this simply heavenly + day?” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Goodness knows,” said I. “Will you show me round these lovely gardens?” + </p> + <p> + “Delighted, sir!” replied the girl, rising and sweeping me a mocking + curtsey. + </p> + <p> + Thereupon we set out, and at every step I found a new delight in some + wayward curl, in a gesture, in the sweet voice of my companion. Her merry + laugh was music, but in wistful mood I think she was even more alluring. + </p> + <p> + The menace, if menace there were, which overhung Cray’s Folly, ceased to + exist—for me, at least, and I blessed the lucky chance which had led + to my presence there. + </p> + <p> + We were presently rejoined by Colonel Menendez and Paul Harley, and I + gathered that my surmise that it had been their voices which I had heard + proceeding from the top of the tower to have been only partly accurate. + </p> + <p> + “I know you will excuse me, Mr. Harley,” said the Colonel, “for detailing + the duty to Pedro, but my wind is not good enough for the stairs.” + </p> + <p> + He used idiomatic English at times with that facility which some + foreigners acquire, but always smiled in a self-satisfied way when he had + employed a slang term. + </p> + <p> + “I quite understand, Colonel,” replied Harley. “The view from the top was + very fine.” + </p> + <p> + “And now, gentlemen,” continued the Colonel, “if Miss Beverley will excuse + us, we will retire to the library and discuss business.” + </p> + <p> + “As you wish,” said Harley; “but I have an idea that it is your custom to + rest in the afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Menendez shrugged his shoulders. “It used to be,” he admitted, + “but I have too much to think about in these days.” + </p> + <p> + “I can see that you have much to tell me,” admitted Harley; “and therefore + I am entirely at your service.” + </p> + <p> + Val Beverley smiled and walked away swinging her book, at the same time + treating me to a glance which puzzled me considerably. I wondered if I had + mistaken its significance, for it had seemed to imply that she had + accepted me as an ally. Certainly it served to awaken me to the fact that + I had discovered a keen personal interest in the mystery which hung over + this queerly assorted household. + </p> + <p> + I glanced at my friend as the Colonel led the way into the house. I saw + him staring upward with a peculiar expression upon his face, and following + the direction of his glance I could see an awning spread over one of the + gray-stone balconies. Beneath it, reclining in a long cane chair, lay + Madame de Stämer. I think she was asleep; at any rate, she gave no sign, + but lay there motionless, as Harley and I walked in through the open + French window followed by Colonel Menendez. + </p> + <p> + Odd and unimportant details sometimes linger long in the memory. And I + remember noticing that a needle of sunlight, piercing a crack in the + gaily-striped awning rested upon a ring which Madame wore, so that the + diamonds glittered like sparks of white-hot fire. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI. THE BARRIER + </h2> + <p> + Colonel Menendez conducted us to a long, lofty library in which might be + detected the same note of un-English luxury manifested in the other + appointments of the house. The room, in common with every other which I + had visited in Cray’s Folly, was carried out in oak: doors, window frames, + mantelpiece, and ceiling representing fine examples of this massive + woodwork. Indeed, if the eccentricity of the designer of Cray’s Folly were + not sufficiently demonstrated by the peculiar plan of the building, its + construction wholly of granite and oak must have remarked him a man of + unusual if substantial ideas. + </p> + <p> + There were four long windows opening on to a veranda which commanded a + view of part of the rose garden and of three terraced lawns descending to + a lake upon which I perceived a number of swans. Beyond, in the valley, + lay verdant pastures, where cattle grazed. A lark hung carolling blithely + far above, and the sky was almost cloudless. I could hear a steam reaper + at work somewhere in the distance. This, with the more intimate rattle of + a lawn-mower wielded by a gardener who was not visible from where I stood, + alone disturbed the serene silence, except that presently I detected the + droning of many bees among the roses. Sunlight flooded the prospect; but + the veranda lay in shadow, and that long, oaken room was refreshingly cool + and laden with the heavy perfume of the flowers. + </p> + <p> + From the windows, then, one beheld a typical English summer-scape, but the + library itself struck an altogether more exotic note. There were many + glazed bookcases of a garish design in ebony and gilt, and these were + laden with a vast collection of works in almost every European language, + reflecting perhaps the cosmopolitan character of the colonel’s household. + There was strange Spanish furniture upholstered in perforated leather and + again displaying much gilt. There were suits of black armour and a great + number of Moorish ornaments. The pictures were fine but sombre, and all of + the Spanish school. + </p> + <p> + One Velasquez in particular I noted with surprise, reflecting that, + assuming it to be an authentic work of the master, my entire worldly + possessions could not have enabled me to buy it. It was the portrait of a + typical Spanish cavalier and beyond doubt a Menendez. In fact, the + resemblance between the haughty Spanish grandee, who seemed about to step + out of the canvas and pick a quarrel with the spectator, and Colonel Don + Juan himself was almost startling. Evidently, our host had imported most + of his belongings from Cuba. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen,” he said, as we entered, “make yourselves quite at home, I + beg. All my poor establishment contains is for your entertainment and + service.” + </p> + <p> + He drew up two long, low lounge chairs, the arms provided with receptacles + to contain cooling drinks; and the mere sight of these chairs mentally + translated me to the Spanish Main, where I pictured them set upon the + veranda of that hacienda which had formerly been our host’s residence. + </p> + <p> + Harley and I became seated and Colonel Menendez disposed himself upon a + leather-covered couch, nodding apologetically as he did so. + </p> + <p> + “My health requires that I should recline for a certain number of hours + every day,” he explained. “So you will please forgive me.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Colonel Menendez,” said Harley, “I feel sure that you are + interrupting your siesta in order to discuss the unpleasant business which + finds us in such pleasant surroundings. Allow me once again to suggest + that we postpone this matter until, shall we say, after dinner?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no! No, no,” protested the Colonel, waving his hand deprecatingly. + “Here is Pedro with coffee and some curaçao of a kind which I can really + recommend, although you may be unfamiliar with it.” + </p> + <p> + I was certainly unfamiliar with the liqueur which he insisted we must + taste, and which was contained in a sort of square, opaque bottle unknown, + I think, to English wine merchants. Beyond doubt it was potent stuff; and + some cigars which the Spaniard produced on this occasion and which were + enclosed in little glass cylinders resembling test-tubes and elaborately + sealed, I recognized to be priceless. They convinced me, if conviction had + not visited me already, that Colonel Don Juan Sarmiento Menendez belonged + to that old school of West Indian planters by whom the tradition of the + Golden Americas had been for long preserved in the Spanish Main. + </p> + <p> + We discussed indifferent matters for a while, sipping this wonderful + curaçao of our host’s. The effect created by the Colonel’s story faded + entirely, and when, the latter being unable to conceal his drowsiness, + Harley stood up, I took the hint with gratitude; for at that moment I did + not feel in the mood to discuss serious business or indeed business of any + kind. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen,” said the Colonel, also rising, in spite of our protests, “I + will observe your wishes. My guests’ wishes are mine. We will meet the + ladies for tea on the terrace.” + </p> + <p> + Harley and I walked out into the garden together, our courteous host + standing in the open window, and bowing in that exaggerated fashion which + in another might have been ridiculous but which was possible in Colonel + Menendez, because of the peculiar grace of deportment which was his. + </p> + <p> + As we descended the steps I turned and glanced back, I know not why. But + the impression which I derived of the Colonel’s face as he stood there in + the shadow of the veranda was one I can never forget. + </p> + <p> + His expression had changed utterly, or so it seemed to me. He no longer + resembled Velasquez’ haughty cavalier; gone, too, was the debonnaire + bearing, I turned my head aside swiftly, hoping that he had not detected + my backward glance. + </p> + <p> + I felt that I had violated hospitality. I felt that I had seen what I + should not have seen. And the result was to bring about that which no + story of West Indian magic could ever have wrought in my mind. + </p> + <p> + A dreadful, cold premonition claimed me, a premonition that this was a + doomed man. + </p> + <p> + The look which I had detected upon his face was an indefinable, an + indescribable look; but I had seen it in the eyes of one who had been + bitten by a poisonous reptile and who knew his hours to be numbered. It + was uncanny, unnerving; and whereas at first the atmosphere of Colonel + Menendez’s home had seemed to be laden with prosperous security, now that + sense of ease and restfulness was gone—and gone for ever. + </p> + <p> + “Harley,” I said, speaking almost at random, “this promises to be the + strangest case you have ever handled.” + </p> + <p> + “Promises?” Paul Harley laughed shortly. “It <i>is</i> the strangest case, + Knox. It is a case of wheels within wheels, of mystery crowning mystery. + Have you studied our host?” + </p> + <p> + “Closely.” + </p> + <p> + “And what conclusion have you formed?” + </p> + <p> + “None at the moment; but I think one is slowly crystalizing.” + </p> + <p> + “Hm,” muttered Harley, as we paced slowly on amid the rose trees. “Of one + thing I am satisfied.” + </p> + <p> + “What is that?” + </p> + <p> + “That Colonel Menendez is not afraid of Bat Wing, whoever or whatever Bat + Wing may be.” + </p> + <p> + “Not afraid?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly he is not afraid, Knox. He has possibly been afraid in the + past, but now he is resigned.” + </p> + <p> + “Resigned to what?” + </p> + <p> + “Resigned to death!” + </p> + <p> + “Good God, Harley, you are right!” I cried. “You are right! I saw it in + his eyes as we left the library.” + </p> + <p> + Harley stopped and turned to me sharply. + </p> + <p> + “You saw this in the Colonel’s eyes?” he challenged. + </p> + <p> + “I did.” + </p> + <p> + “Which corroborates my theory,” he said, softly; “for <i>I</i> had seen it + elsewhere.” + </p> + <p> + “Where do you mean, Harley?” + </p> + <p> + “In the face of Madame de Stämer.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + “Knox”—Harley rested his hand upon my arm and looked about him + cautiously—“<i>she knows.</i>” + </p> + <p> + “But knows what?” + </p> + <p> + “That is the question which we are here to answer, but I am as sure as it + is humanly possible to be sure of anything that whatever Colonel Menendez + may tell us to-night, one point at least he will withhold.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you expect him to withhold?” + </p> + <p> + “The meaning of the sign of the Bat Wing.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you think he knows its meaning?” + </p> + <p> + “He has told us that it is the death-token of Voodoo.” + </p> + <p> + I stared at Harley in perplexity. + </p> + <p> + “Then you believe his explanation to be false?” + </p> + <p> + “Not necessarily, Knox. It may be what he claims for it. But he is keeping + something back. He speaks all the time from behind a barrier which he, + himself, has deliberately erected against me.” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot understand why he should do so,” I declared, as he looked at me + steadily. “Within the last few moments I have become definitely convinced + that his appeal to you was no idle one. Therefore, why should he not offer + you every aid in his power?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, indeed?” muttered Harley. + </p> + <p> + “The same thing,” I continued, “applies to Madame de Stämer. If ever I + have seen love-light in a woman’s eyes I have seen it in hers, to-day, + whenever her glance has rested upon Colonel Menendez. Harley, I believe + she literally worships the ground he walks upon.” + </p> + <p> + “She does, she does!” cried my companion, and emphasized the words with + beats of his clenched fist. “It is utterly, damnably mystifying. But I + tell you, she knows, Knox, she knows!” + </p> + <p> + “You mean she knows that he is a doomed man?” + </p> + <p> + Harley nodded rapidly. + </p> + <p> + “They both know,” he replied; “but there is something which they dare not + divulge.” + </p> + <p> + He glanced at me swiftly, and his bronzed face wore a peculiar expression. + </p> + <p> + “Have you had an opportunity of any private conversation with Miss Val + Beverley?” he enquired. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” I said. “Surely you remember that you found me chatting with her + when you returned from your inspection of the tower.” + </p> + <p> + “I remember perfectly well, but I thought you might have just met. Now it + appears to me, Knox, that you have quickly established yourself in the + good books of a very charming girl. My only reason for visiting the tower + was to afford you just this opportunity! Don’t frown. Beyond reminding you + of the fact that she has been on intimate terms with Madame de Stämer for + some years, I will not intrude in any way upon your private plans in that + direction.” + </p> + <p> + I stared at him, and I suppose my expression was an angry one. + </p> + <p> + “Surely you don’t misunderstand me?” he said. “A cultured English girl of + that type cannot possibly have lived with these people without learning + something of the matters which are puzzling us so badly. Am I asking too + much?” + </p> + <p> + “I see what you mean,” I said, slowly. “No, I suppose you are right, + Harley.” + </p> + <p> + “Good,” he muttered. “I will leave that side of the enquiry in your very + capable hands, Knox.” + </p> + <p> + He paused, and began to stare about him. + </p> + <p> + “From this point,” said he, “we have an unobstructed view of the tower.” + </p> + <p> + We turned and stood looking up at the unsightly gray structure, with its + geometrical rows of windows and the minaret-like gallery at the top. + </p> + <p> + “Of course”—I broke a silence of some moments duration—“the + entire scheme of Cray’s Folly is peculiar, but the rooms, except for a + uniformity which is monotonous, and an unimaginative scheme of decoration + which makes them all seem alike, are airy and well lighted, eminently sane + and substantial. The tower, however, is quite inexcusable, unless the idea + was to enable the occupant to look over the tops of the trees in all + directions.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” agreed Harley, “it is an ugly landmark. But yonder up the slope I + can see the corner of what seems to be a very picturesque house of some + kind.” + </p> + <p> + “I caught a glimpse of it earlier to-day,” I replied. “Yes, from this + point a little more of it is visible. Apparently quite an old place.” + </p> + <p> + I paused, staring up the hillside, but Harley, hands locked behind him and + chin lowered reflectively, was pacing on. I joined him, and we proceeded + for some little distance in silence, passing a gardener who touched his + cap respectfully and to whom I thought at first my companion was about to + address some remark. Harley passed on, however, still occupied, it seemed, + with his reflections, and coming to a gravel path which, bordering one + side of the lawns, led down from terrace to terrace into the valley, + turned, and began to descend. + </p> + <p> + “Let us go and interview the swans,” he murmured absently. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII. AT THE LAVENDER ARMS + </h2> + <p> + In certain moods Paul Harley was impossible as a companion, and I, who + knew him well, had learned to leave him to his own devices at such times. + These moods invariably corresponded with his meeting some problem to the + heart of which the lance of his keen wit failed to penetrate. His humour + might not display itself in the spoken word, he merely became oblivious of + everything and everybody around him. People might talk to him and he + scarce noted their presence, familiar faces appear and he would see them + not. Outwardly he remained the observant Harley who could see further into + a mystery than any other in England, but his observation was entirely + introspective; although he moved amid the hustle of life he was + spiritually alone, communing with the solitude which dwells in every man’s + heart. + </p> + <p> + Presently, then, as we came to the lake at the foot of the sloping lawns, + where water lilies were growing and quite a number of swans had their + habitation, I detected the fact that I had ceased to exist so far as + Harley was concerned. Knowing this mood of old, I pursued my way alone, + pressing on across the valley and making for a swing gate which seemed to + open upon a public footpath. Coming to this gate I turned and looked back. + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley was standing where I had left him by the edge of the lake, + staring as if hypnotized at the slowly moving swans. But I would have been + prepared to wager that he saw neither swans nor lake, but mentally was far + from the spot, deep in some complex maze of reflection through which no + ordinary mind could hope to follow him. + </p> + <p> + I glanced at my watch and found that it was but little after two o’clock. + Luncheon at Cray’s Folly was early. I therefore had some time upon my + hands and I determined to employ it in exploring part of the + neighbourhood. Accordingly I filled and lighted my pipe and strolled + leisurely along the footpath, enjoying the beauty of the afternoon, and + admiring the magnificent timber which grew upon the southerly slopes of + the valley. + </p> + <p> + Larks sang high above me and the air was fragrant with those wonderful + earthy scents which belong to an English countryside. A herd of very fine + Jersey cattle presently claimed inspection, and a little farther on I + found myself upon a high road where a brown-faced fellow seated aloft upon + a hay-cart cheerily gave me good-day as I passed. + </p> + <p> + Quite at random I turned to the left and followed the road, so that + presently I found myself in a very small village, the principal building + of which was a very small inn called the “Lavender Arms.” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Menendez’s curaçao, combined with the heat of the day, had made me + thirsty; for which reason I stepped into the bar-parlour determined to + sample the local ale. I wars served by the landlady, a neat, round, red + little person, and as she retired, having placed a foam-capped mug upon + the counter, her glance rested for a moment upon the only other occupant + of the room, a man seated in an armchair immediately to the right of the + door. A glass of whisky stood on the window ledge at his elbow, and that + it was by no means the first which he had imbibed, his appearance seemed + to indicate. + </p> + <p> + Having tasted the cool contents of my mug, I leaned back against the + counter and looked at this person curiously. + </p> + <p> + He was apparently of about medium height, but of a somewhat fragile + appearance. He was dressed like a country gentleman, and a stick and soft + hat lay upon the ledge near his glass. But the thing about him which had + immediately arrested my attention was his really extraordinary resemblance + to Paul Harley’s engraving of Edgar Allan Poe. + </p> + <p> + I wondered at first if Harley’s frequent references to the eccentric + American genius, to whom he accorded a sort of hero-worship, were + responsible for my imagining a close resemblance where only a slight one + existed. But inspection of that strange, dark face convinced me of the + fact that my first impression had been a true one. Perhaps, in my + curiosity, I stared rather rudely. + </p> + <p> + “You will pardon me, sir,” said the stranger, and I was startled to note + that he spoke with a faint American accent, “but are you a literary man?” + </p> + <p> + As I had judged to be the case, he was slightly bemused, but by no means + drunk, and although his question was abrupt it was spoken civilly enough. + </p> + <p> + “Journalism is one of the several occupations in which I have failed,” I + replied, lightly. + </p> + <p> + “You are not a fiction writer?” + </p> + <p> + “I lack the imagination necessary for that craft, sir.” + </p> + <p> + The other wagged his head slowly and took a drink of whisky. + “Nevertheless,” he said, and raised his finger solemnly, “you were + thinking that I resembled Edgar Allan Poe!” + </p> + <p> + “Good heavens!” I exclaimed, for the man had really amazed me. “You + clearly resemble him in more ways than one. I must really ask you to + inform me how you deduced such a fact from a mere glance of mine.” + </p> + <p> + “I will tell you, sir,” he replied. “But, first, I must replenish my + glass, and I should be honoured if you would permit me to replenish + yours.” + </p> + <p> + “Thanks very much,” I said, “but I would rather you excused me.” + </p> + <p> + “As you wish, sir,” replied the American with grave courtesy, “as you + wish.” + </p> + <p> + He stepped up to the counter and rapped upon it with half a crown, until + the landlady appeared. She treated me to a pathetic glance, but refilled + the empty glass. + </p> + <p> + My American acquaintance having returned to his seat and having added a + very little water to the whisky went on: + </p> + <p> + “Now, sir,” said he, “my name is Colin Camber, formerly of Richmond, + Virginia, United States of America, but now of the Guest House, Surrey, + England, at your service.” + </p> + <p> + Taking my cue from Mr. Camber’s gloomy but lofty manner, I bowed formally + and mentioned my name. + </p> + <p> + “I am delighted to make your acquaintance, Mr. Knox,” he assured me; “and + now, sir, to answer your question. When you came in a few moments ago you + glanced at me. Your eyes did not open widely as is the case when one + recognizes, or thinks one recognizes, an acquaintance, they narrowed. This + indicated retrospection. For a moment they turned aside. You were + focussing a fugitive idea, a memory. You captured it. You looked at me + again, and your successive glances read as follows: The hair worn + uncommonly long, the mathematical brow, the eyes of a poet, the slight + moustache, small mouth, weak chin; the glass at his elbow. The resemblance + is complete. Knowing how complete it is myself, sir, I ventured to test my + theory, and it proved to be sound.” + </p> + <p> + Now, as Mr. Colin Camber had thus spoken in the serious manner of a + slightly drunken man, I had formed the opinion that I stood in the + presence of a very singular character. Here was that seeming mésalliance + which not infrequently begets genius: a powerful and original mind allied + to a weak will. I wondered what Mr. Colin Camber’s occupation might be, + and somewhat, too, I wondered why his name was unfamiliar to me. For that + the possessor of that brow and those eyes could fail to make his mark in + any profession which he might take up I was unwilling to believe. + </p> + <p> + “Your exposition has been very interesting, Mr. Camber,” I said. “You are + a singularly close observer, I perceive.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he replied, “I have passed my life in observing the ways of my + fellowmen, a study which I have pursued in various parts of the world + without appreciable benefit to myself. I refer to financial benefit.” + </p> + <p> + He contemplated me with a look which had grown suddenly pathetic. + </p> + <p> + “I would not have you think, sir,” he added, “that I am an habitual toper. + I have latterly been much upset by—domestic worries, and—er—” + He emptied his glass at a draught. “Surely, Mr. Knox, you are going to + replenish? Whilst you are doing so, would you kindly request Mrs. Wootton + to extend the same favour to myself?” + </p> + <p> + But at that moment Mrs. Wootton in person appeared behind the counter. + “Time, please, gentlemen,” she said; “it is gone half-past two.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” exclaimed Mr. Camber, rising. “What is that? You decline to serve + me, Mrs. Wootton?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, not at all, Mr. Camber,” answered the landlady, “but I can serve no + one now; it’s after time.” + </p> + <p> + “You decline to serve me,” he muttered, his speech becoming slurred. “Am + I, then, to be insulted?” + </p> + <p> + I caught a glance of entreaty from the landlady. “My dear sir,” I said, + genially, “we must bow to the law, I suppose. At least we are better off + here than in America.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, that is true,” agreed Mr. Camber, throwing his head back and speaking + the words as though they possessed some deep dramatic significance. “Yes, + but such laws are an insult to every intelligent man.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +He sat down again rather heavily, and I stood looking from him to the +landlady, and wondering what I should do. The matter was decided for +me, however, in a way which I could never have foreseen. For, hearing +a light footfall upon the step which led up to the bar-parlour, I +turned—and there almost beside me stood a wrinkled little Chinaman! + + He wore a blue suit and a tweed cap, he wore queer, thick-soled +slippers, and his face was like a smiling mask hewn out of very old +ivory. I could scarcely credit the evidence of my senses, since the +Lavender Arms was one of the last places in which I should have looked +for a native of China. +</pre> + <p> + Mr. Colin Camber rose again, and fixing his melancholy eyes upon the + newcomer: + </p> + <p> + “Ah Tsong,” he said in a tone of cold anger, “what are you doing here?” + </p> + <p> + Quite unmoved the Chinaman replied: + </p> + <p> + “Blingee you chit, sir, vellee soon go back.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” demanded Mr. Camber. “Answer me, Ah Tsong: who sent + you?” + </p> + <p> + “Lilly missee,” crooned the Chinaman, smiling up into the other’s face + with a sort of childish entreaty. “Lilly missee.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said Mr. Camber in a changed voice. “Oh.” + </p> + <p> + He stood very upright for a moment, his gaze set upon the wrinkled Chinese + face. Then he looked at Mrs. Wootton and bowed, and looked at me and + bowed, very stiffly. + </p> + <p> + “I must excuse myself, sir,” he announced. “My wife desires my presence at + home.” + </p> + <p> + I returned his bow, and as he walked quite steadily toward the door, + followed by Ah Tsong, he paused, turned, and said: “Mr. Knox, I should + esteem it a friendly action if you would spare me an hour of your company + before you leave Surrey. My visitors are few. Any one, any one, will + direct you to the Guest House. I am persuaded that we have much in common. + Good-day, sir.” + </p> + <p> + He went down the steps, disappearing in company with the Chinaman, and + having watched them go, I turned to Mrs. Wootton, the landlady, in silent + astonishment. + </p> + <p> + She nodded her head and sighed. + </p> + <p> + “The same every day and every evening for months past,” she said. “I am + afraid it’s going to be the death of him.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean that Mr. Camber comes here every day and is always fetched by + the Chinaman?” + </p> + <p> + “Twice every day,” corrected the landlady, “and his poor wife sends here + regularly.” + </p> + <p> + “What a tragedy,” I muttered, “and such a brilliant man.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” said she, busily removing jugs and glasses from the counter, “it + does seem a terrible thing.” + </p> + <p> + “Has Mr. Camber lived for long in this neighbourhood?” I ventured to + inquire. + </p> + <p> + “It was about three years ago, sir, that he took the old Guest House at + Mid-Hatton. I remember the time well enough because of all the trouble + there was about him bringing a Chinaman down here.” + </p> + <p> + “I can imagine it must have created something of a sensation,” I murmured. + “Is the Guest House a large property?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, sir, only ten rooms and a garden, and it had been vacant for a + long time. It belongs to what is called the Crayland Park Estate.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Camber, I take it, is a literary man?” + </p> + <p> + “So I believe, sir.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Wootton, having cleared the counter, glanced up at the clock and then + at me with a cheery but significant smile. + </p> + <p> + “I see that it is after time,” I said, returning the smile, “but the queer + people who seem to live hereabouts interest me very much.” + </p> + <p> + “I can’t wonder at that, sir!” said the landlady, laughing outright. + “Chinamen and Spanish men and what-not. If some of the old gentry that + lived here before the war could see it, they wouldn’t recognize the place, + of that I am sure.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, well,” said I, pausing at the step, “I shall hope to see more of Mr. + Camber, and of yourself too, madam, for your ale is excellent.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir, I’m sure,” said the landlady much gratified, “but as to + Mr. Camber, I really doubt if he would know you if you met him again. Not + if he was sober, I mean.” + </p> + <p> + “Really?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it’s a fact, believe me. Just in the last six months or so he has + started on the rampage like, but some of the people he has met in here and + asked to call upon him have done it, thinking he meant it.” + </p> + <p> + “And they have not been well received?” said I, lingering. + </p> + <p> + “They have had the door shut in their faces!” declared Mrs. Wootton with a + certain indignation. “He either does not remember what he says or does + when he is in drink, or he pretends he doesn’t. Oh, dear, it’s a funny + world. Well, good-day, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-day,” said I, and came out of the Lavender Arms full of sympathy + with the views of the “old gentry,” as outlined by Mrs. Wootton; for + certainly it would seem that this quiet spot in the Surrey Hills had + become a rallying ground for peculiar people. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII. THE CALL OF M’KOMBO + </h2> + <p> + Of tea upon the veranda of Cray’s Folly that afternoon I retain several + notable memories. I got into closer touch with my host and hostess, + without achieving anything like a proper understanding of either of them, + and I procured a new viewpoint of Miss Val Beverley. Her repose was + misleading. She deliberately subjugated her own vital personality to that + of Madame de Stämer, why, I knew not, unless she felt herself under an + obligation to do so. That her blue-gray eyes could be wistful was true + enough, they could also be gay; and once I detected in them a look of + sadness which dispelled the butterfly illusion belonging to her dainty + slenderness, to her mobile lips, to the vagabond curling hair of russet + brown. + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley’s manner remained absent, but I who knew his moods so well + recognized that this abstraction was no longer real. It was a pose which + he often adopted when in reality he was keenly interested in his + surroundings. It baffled me, however, as effectively as it baffled others, + and whilst at one moment I decided that he was studying Colonel Menendez, + in the next I became convinced that Madame de Stämer was the subject upon + his mental dissecting table. + </p> + <p> + That he should find in Madame a fascinating problem did not surprise me. + She must have afforded tempting study for any psychologist. I could not + fathom the nature of the kinship existing between herself and the Spanish + colonel, for Madame de Stämer was French to her fingertips. Her + expressions, her gestures, her whole outlook on life proclaimed the + fashionable Parisienne. + </p> + <p> + She possessed a vigorous masculine intelligence and was the most + entertaining companion imaginable. She was daringly outspoken, and it was + hard to believe that her gaiety was forced. Yet, as the afternoon wore on, + I became more and more convinced that such was the case. + </p> + <p> + I thought that before affliction visited her Madame de Stämer must have + been a vivacious and a beautiful woman. Her vivacity remained and much of + her beauty, so that it was difficult to believe her snow-white hair to be + a product of nature. Again and again I found myself regarding it as a + powdered coiffure of the Pompadour period and wondering why Madame wore no + patches. + </p> + <p> + That a deep and sympathetic understanding existed between herself and + Colonel Menendez was unmistakable. More than once I intercepted glances + from the dark eyes of Madame which were lover-like, yet laden with a + profound sorrow. She was playing a rôle, and I was convinced that Harley + knew this. It was not merely a courageous fight against affliction on the + part of a woman of the world, versed in masking her real self from the + prying eyes of society, it was a studied performance prompted by some + deeper motive. + </p> + <p> + She dressed with exquisite taste, and to see her seated there amid her + cushions, gesticulating vivaciously, one would never have supposed that + she was crippled. My admiration for her momentarily increased, the more so + since I could see that she was sincerely fond of Val Beverley, whose every + movement she followed with looks of almost motherly affection. This was + all the more strange as Madame de Stämer whose age, I supposed, lay + somewhere on the sunny side of forty, was of a type which expects, and + wins, admiration, long after the average woman has ceased to be + attractive. + </p> + <p> + One endowed with such a temperament is as a rule unreasonably jealous of + youth and good looks in another. I could not determine if Madame’s + attitude were to be ascribed to complacent self-satisfaction or to a + nobler motive. It sufficed for me that she took an unfeigned joy in the + youthful sweetness of her companion. + </p> + <p> + “Val, dear,” she said, presently, addressing the girl, “you should make + those sleeves shorter, my dear.” + </p> + <p> + She had a rapid way of speaking, and possessed a slightly husky but + fascinatingly vibrant voice. + </p> + <p> + “Your arms are very pretty. You should not hide them.” + </p> + <p> + Val Beverley blushed, and laughed to conceal her embarrassment. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my dear,” exclaimed Madame, “why be ashamed of arms? All women have + arms, but some do well to hide them.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite right, Marie,” agreed the Colonel, his thin voice affording an odd + contrast to the deeper tones of his cousin. “But it is the scraggy ones + who seem to delight in displaying their angles.” + </p> + <p> + “The English, yes,” Madame admitted, “but the French, no. They are too + clever, Juan.” + </p> + <p> + “Frenchwomen think too much about their looks,” said Val Beverley, + quietly. “Oh, you know they do, Madame. They would rather die than be + without admiration.” + </p> + <p> + Madame shrugged her shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “So would I, my dear,” she confessed, “although I cannot walk. Without + admiration there is”—she snapped her fingers—“nothing. And who + would notice a linnet when a bird of paradise was about, however sweet her + voice? Tell me that, my dear?” + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley aroused himself and laughed heartily. + </p> + <p> + “Yet,” he said, “I think with Miss Beverley, that this love of elegance + does not always make for happiness. Surely it is the cause of half the + domestic tragedies in France?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, the French love elegance,” cried Madame, shrugging, “they cannot help + it. To secure what is elegant a Frenchwoman will sometimes forget her + husband, yes, but never forget herself.” + </p> + <p> + “Really, Marie,” protested the Colonel, “you say most strange things!” + </p> + <p> + “Is that so, Juan?” she replied, casting one of her queer glances in his + direction; “but how would you like to be surrounded by a lot of drabs, eh? + That man, Mr. Knox,” she extended one white hand in the direction of + Colonel Menendez, the fingers half closed, in a gesture which curiously + reminded me of Sarah Bernhardt, “that man would notice if a parlourmaid + came into the room with a shoe unbuttoned. Poof! if we love elegance it is + because without it the men would never love <i>us</i>.” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Menendez bent across the table and kissed the white fingers in his + courtier-like fashion. + </p> + <p> + “My sweet cousin,” he said, “I should love you in rags.” + </p> + <p> + Madame smiled and flushed like a girl, but withdrawing her hand she + shrugged. + </p> + <p> + “They would have to be <i>pretty</i> rags!” she added. + </p> + <p> + During this little scene I detected Val Beverley looking at me in a + vaguely troubled way, and it was easy to guess that she was wondering what + construction I should place upon it. However: + </p> + <p> + “I am going into the town,” declared Madame de Stämer, energetically. + “Half the things ordered from Hartley’s have never been sent.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Madame, please let <i>me</i> go,” cried Val Beverley. + </p> + <p> + “My dear,” pronounced Madame, “I will not let you go, but I will let you + come with me if you wish.” + </p> + <p> + She rang a little bell which stood upon the tea-table beside the urn, and + Pedro came out through the drawing room. + </p> + <p> + “Pedro,” she said, “is the car ready?” + </p> + <p> + The Spanish butler bowed. + </p> + <p> + “Tell Carter to bring it round. Hurry, dear,” to the girl, “if you are + coming with me. I shall not be a minute.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon she whisked her mechanical chair about, waved her hand to + dismiss Pedro, and went steering through the drawing room at a great rate, + with Val Beverley walking beside her. + </p> + <p> + As we resumed our seats Colonel Menendez lay back with half-closed eyes, + his glance following the chair and its occupant until both were swallowed + up in the shadows of the big drawing room. + </p> + <p> + “Madame de Stämer is a very remarkable woman,” said Paul Harley. + </p> + <p> + “Remarkable?” replied the Colonel. “The spirit of all the old chivalry of + France is imprisoned within her, I think.” + </p> + <p> + He passed cigarettes around, of a long kind resembling cheroots and + wrapped in tobacco leaf. I thought it strange that having thus emphasized + Madame’s nationality he did not feel it incumbent upon him to explain the + mystery of their kinship. However, he made no attempt to do so, and almost + before we had lighted up, a racy little two-seater was driven around the + gravel path by Carter, the chauffeur who had brought us to Cray’s Folly + from London. + </p> + <p> + The man descended and began to arrange wraps and cushions, and a few + moments later back came Madame again, dressed for driving. Carter was + about to lift her into the car when Colonel Menendez stood up and + advanced. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down, Juan, sit down!” said Madame, sharply. + </p> + <p> + A look of keen anxiety, I had almost said of pain, leapt into her eyes, + and the Colonel hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “How often must I tell you,” continued the throbbing voice, “that you must + not exert yourself.” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Menendez accepted the rebuke humbly, but the incident struck me as + grotesque; for it was difficult to associate delicacy with such a fine + specimen of well-preserved manhood as the Colonel. + </p> + <p> + However, Carter performed the duty of assisting Madame into her little + car, and when for a moment he supported her upright, before placing her + among the cushions, I noted that she was a tall woman, slender and + elegant. + </p> + <p> + All smiles and light, sparkling conversation, she settled herself + comfortably at the wheel and Val Beverley got in beside her. Madame nodded + to Carter in dismissal, waved her hand to Colonel Menendez, cried “Au + revoir!” and then away went the little car, swinging around the angle of + the house and out of sight. + </p> + <p> + Our host stood bare-headed upon the veranda listening to the sound of the + engine dying away among the trees. He seemed to be lost in reflection from + which he only aroused himself when the purr of the motor became inaudible. + </p> + <p> + “And now, gentlemen,” he said, and suppressed a sigh, “we have much to + talk about. This spot is cool, but is it sufficiently private? Perhaps, + Mr. Harley, you would prefer to talk in the library?” + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley flicked ash from the end of his cigarette. + </p> + <p> + “Better still in your own study, Colonel Menendez,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + “What, do you suspect eavesdroppers?” asked the Colonel, his manner + becoming momentarily agitated. + </p> + <p> + He looked at Harley as though he suspected the latter of possessing + private information. + </p> + <p> + “We should neglect no possible precaution,” answered my friend. “That + agencies inimical to your safety are focussed upon the house your own + statement amply demonstrates.” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Menendez seemed to be on the point of speaking again, but he + checked himself and in silence led the way through the ornate library to a + smaller room which opened out of it, and which was furnished as a study. + </p> + <p> + Here the motif was distinctly one of officialdom. Although the Southern + element was not lacking, it was not so marked as in the library or in the + hall. The place was appointed for utility rather than ornament. Everything + was in perfect order. In the library, with the blinds drawn, one might + have supposed oneself in Trinidad; in the study, under similar conditions, + one might equally well have imagined Downing Street to lie outside the + windows. Essentially, this was the workroom of a man of affairs. + </p> + <p> + Having settled ourselves comfortably, Paul Harley opened the conversation. + </p> + <p> + “In several particulars,” said he, “I find my information to be + incomplete.” + </p> + <p> + He consulted the back of an envelope, upon which, I presumed during the + afternoon, he had made a number of pencilled notes. + </p> + <p> + “For instance,” he continued, “your detection of someone watching the + house, and subsequently of someone forcing an entrance, had no visible + association with the presence of the bat wing attached to your front + door?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” replied the Colonel, slowly, “these episodes took place a month + ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly a month ago?” + </p> + <p> + “They took place immediately before the last full moon.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, before the full moon. And because you associate the activities of + Voodoo with the full moon, you believe that the old menace has again + become active?” + </p> + <p> + The Colonel nodded emphatically. He was busily engaged in rolling one of + his eternal cigarettes. + </p> + <p> + “This belief of yours was recently confirmed by the discovery of the bat + wing?” + </p> + <p> + “I no longer doubted,” said Colonel Menendez, shrugging his shoulders. + “How could I?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite so,” murmured Harley, absently, and evidently pursuing some private + train of thought. “And now, I take it that your suspicions, if expressed + in words would amount to this: During your last visit to Cuba you (<i>a</i>) + either killed some high priest of Voodoo, or (<i>b</i>) seriously injured + him? Assuming the first theory to be the correct one, your death was + determined upon by the sect over which he had formerly presided. Assuming + the second to be accurate, however, it is presumably the man himself for + whom we must look. Now, Colonel Menendez, kindly inform me if you recall + the name of this man?” + </p> + <p> + “I recall it very well,” replied the Colonel. “His name was M’kombo, and + he was a Benin negro.” + </p> + <p> + “Assuming that he is still alive, what, roughly, would his age be to-day?” + </p> + <p> + The Colonel seemed to meditate, pushing a box of long Martinique cigars + across the table in my direction. + </p> + <p> + “He would be an old man,” he pronounced. “I, myself, am fifty-two, and I + should say that M’kombo if alive to-day would be nearer to seventy than + sixty.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” murmured Harley, “and did he speak English?” + </p> + <p> + “A few words, I believe.” + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley fixed his gaze upon the dark, aquiline face. + </p> + <p> + “In short,” he said, “do you really suspect that it was M’kombo whose + shadow you saw upon the lawn, who a month ago made a midnight entrance + into Cray’s Folly, and who recently pinned a bat wing to the door?” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Menendez seemed somewhat taken aback by this direct question. “I + cannot believe it,” he confessed. + </p> + <p> + “Do you believe that this order or religion of Voodooism has any existence + outside those places where African negroes or descendents of negroes are + settled?” + </p> + <p> + “I should not have been prepared to believe it, Mr. Harley, prior to my + experiences in Washington and elsewhere.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you do believe that there are representatives of this cult to be met + with in Europe and America?” + </p> + <p> + “I should have been prepared to believe it possible in America, for in + America there are many negroes, but in England——” + </p> + <p> + Again he shrugged his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “I would remind you,” said Harley, quietly, “that there are also quite a + number of negroes in England. If you seriously believe Voodoo to follow + negro migration, I can see no objection to assuming it to be a universal + cult.” + </p> + <p> + “Such an idea is incredible.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet by what other hypothesis,” asked Harley, “are we to cover the facts + of your own case as stated by yourself? Now,” he consulted his pencilled + notes, “there is another point. I gather that these African sorcerers rely + largely upon what I may term intimidation. In other words, they claim the + power of wishing an enemy to death.” + </p> + <p> + He raised his eyes and stared grimly at the Colonel. + </p> + <p> + “I should not like to suppose that a man of your courage and culture could + subscribe to such a belief.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not, sir,” declared the Colonel, warmly. “No Obeah man could ever + exercise his will upon <i>me!</i>” + </p> + <p> + “Yet, if I may say so,” murmured Harley, “your will to live seems to have + become somewhat weakened.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Menendez stood up, his delicate nostrils dilated. He glared + angrily at Harley. + </p> + <p> + “I mean that I perceive a certain resignation in your manner of which I do + not approve.” + </p> + <p> + “You do not <i>approve?</i>” said Colonel Menendez, softly; and I thought + as he stood looking down upon my friend that I had rarely seen a more + formidable figure. + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley had roused him unaccountably, and knowing my friend for a + master of tact I knew also that this had been deliberate, although I could + not even dimly perceive his object. + </p> + <p> + “I occupy the position of a specialist,” Harley continued, “and you occupy + that of my patient. Now, you cannot disguise from me that your mental + opposition to this danger which threatens has become slackened. Allow me + to remind you that the strongest defence is counter-attack. You are angry, + Colonel Menendez, but I would rather see you angry than apathetic. To come + to my last point. You spoke of a neighbour in terms which led me to + suppose that you suspected him of some association with your enemies. May + I ask for the name of this person?” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Menendez sat down again, puffing furiously at his cigarette, + whilst beginning to roll another. He was much disturbed, was fighting to + regain mastery of himself. + </p> + <p> + “I apologize from the bottom of my heart,” he said, “for a breach of good + behaviour which really was unforgivable. I was angry when I should have + been grateful. Much that you have said is true. Because it is true, I + despise myself.” + </p> + <p> + He flashed a glance at Paul Harley. + </p> + <p> + “Awake,” he continued, “I care for no man breathing, black or white; but + <i>asleep</i>”—he shrugged his shoulders. “It is in sleep that these + dealers in unclean things obtain their advantage.” + </p> + <p> + “You excite my curiosity,” declared Harley. + </p> + <p> + “Listen,” Colonel Menendez bent forward, resting his elbows upon his + knees. Between the yellow fingers of his left hand he held the newly + completed cigarette whilst he continued to puff vigorously at the old one. + “You recollect my speaking of the death of a certain native girl?” + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley nodded. + </p> + <p> + “The real cause of her death was never known, but I obtained evidence to + show that on the night after the wing of a bat had been attached to her + hut, she wandered out in her sleep and visited the Black Belt. Can you + doubt that someone was calling her?” + </p> + <p> + “Calling her?” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Harley, she was obeying the call of M’kombo!” + </p> + <p> + “The <i>call</i> of M’kombo? You refer to some kind of hypnotic + suggestions?” + </p> + <p> + “I illustrate,” replied the Colonel, “to help to make clear something + which I have to tell you. On the night when last the moon was full—on + the night after someone had entered the house—I had retired early to + bed. Suddenly I awoke, feeling very cold. I awoke, I say, and where do you + suppose I found myself?” + </p> + <p> + “I am all anxiety to hear.” + </p> + <p> + “On the point of entering the Tudor garden—you call it Tudor garden?—which + is visible from the window of your room!” + </p> + <p> + “Most extraordinary,” murmured Harley; “and you were in your night + attire?” + </p> + <p> + “I was.” + </p> + <p> + “And what had awakened you?” + </p> + <p> + “An accident. I believe a lucky accident. I had cut my bare foot upon the + gravel and the pain awakened me.” + </p> + <p> + “You had no recollection of any dream which had prompted you to go down + into the garden?” + </p> + <p> + “None whatever.” + </p> + <p> + “Does your room face in that direction?” + </p> + <p> + “It does not. It faces the lake on the south of the house. I had descended + to a side door, unbarred it, and walked entirely around the east wing + before I awakened.” + </p> + <p> + “Your room faces the lake,” murmured Harley. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + Their glances met, and in Paul Harley’s expression there seemed to be a + challenge. + </p> + <p> + “You have not yet told me,” said he, “the name of your neighbour.” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Menendez lighted his new cigarette. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Harley,” he confessed, “I regret that I ever referred to this + suspicion of mine. Indeed it is hardly a suspicion, it is what I may call + a desperate doubt. Do you say that, a desperate doubt?” + </p> + <p> + “I think I follow you,” said Harley. + </p> + <p> + “The fact is this, I only know of one person within ten miles of Cray’s + Folly who has ever visited Cuba.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah.” + </p> + <p> + “I have no other scrap of evidence to associate him I with my shadowy + enemy. This being so, you will pardon me if I ask you to forget that I + ever referred to his existence.” + </p> + <p> + He spoke the words with a sort of lofty finality, and accompanied them + with a gesture of the hands which really left Harley no alternative but to + drop the subject. + </p> + <p> + Again their glances met, and it was patent to me that underlying all this + conversation was something beyond my ken. What it was that Harley + suspected I could not imagine, nor what it was that Colonel Menendez + desired to conceal; but tension was in the very air. The Spaniard was on + the defensive, and Paul Harley was puzzled, irritated. + </p> + <p> + It was a strange interview, and one which in the light of after events I + recognized to possess extraordinary significance. That sixth sense of + Harley’s was awake, was prompting him, but to what extent he understood + its promptings at that hour I did not know, and have never known to this + day. Intuitively, I believe, as he sat there staring at Colonel Menendez, + he began to perceive the shadow within a shadow which was the secret of + Cray’s Folly, which was the thing called Bat Wing, which was the devilish + force at that very hour alive and potent in our midst. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX. OBEAH + </h2> + <p> + This conversation in Colonel Menendez’s study produced a very unpleasant + impression upon my mind. The atmosphere of Cray’s Folly seemed to become + charged with unrest. Of Madame de Stämer and Miss Beverley I saw nothing + up to the time that I retired to dress. Having dressed I walked into + Harley’s room, anxious to learn if he had formed any theory to account for + the singular business which had brought us to Surrey. + </p> + <p> + Harley had excused himself directly we had left the study, stating that he + wished to get to the village post-office in time to send a telegram to + London. Our host had suggested a messenger, but this, as well as the offer + of a car, Harley had declined, saying that the exercise would aid + reflection. Nevertheless, I was surprised to find his room empty, for I + could not imagine why the sending of a telegram should have detained him + so long. + </p> + <p> + Dusk was falling, and viewed from the open window the Tudor garden below + looked very beautiful, part of it lying in a sort of purplish shadow and + the rest being mystically lighted as though viewed through a golden veil. + To the whole picture a sort of magic quality was added by a speck of + high-light which rested upon the face of the old sun-dial. + </p> + <p> + I thought that here was a fit illustration for a fairy tale; then I + remembered the Colonel’s account of how he had awakened in the act of + entering this romantic plaisance, and I was touched anew by an + unrestfulness, by a sense of the uncanny. + </p> + <p> + I observed a book lying upon the dressing table, and concluding that it + was one which Harley had brought with him, I took it up, glancing at the + title. It was “Negro Magic,” and switching on the light, for there was a + private electric plant in Cray’s Folly, I opened the book at random and + began to read. + </p> + <p> + “The religion of the negro,” said this authority, “is emotional, and more + often than not associated with beliefs in witchcraft and in the rites + known as Voodoo or Obi Mysteries. It has been endeavoured by some students + to show that these are relics of the Fetish worship of equatorial Africa, + but such a genealogy has never been satisfactorily demonstrated. The + cannibalistic rituals, human sacrifices, and obscene ceremonies resembling + those of the Black Sabbath of the Middle Ages, reported to prevail in + Haiti and other of the islands, and by some among the negroes of the + Southern States of America, may be said to rest on doubtful authority. + Nevertheless, it is a fact beyond doubt that among the negroes both of the + West Indies and the United States there is a widespread belief in the + powers of the Obeah man. A native who believes himself to have come under + the spell of such a sorcerer will sink into a kind of decline and + sometimes die.” + </p> + <p> + At this point I discovered several paragraphs underlined in pencil, and + concluding that the underlining had been done by Paul Harley, I read them + with particular care. They were as follows: “According to Hesketh J. Bell, + the term Obeah is most probably derived from the substantive Obi, a word + used on the East coast of Africa to denote witchcraft, sorcery, and + fetishism in general. The etymology of Obi has been traced to a very + antique source, stretching far back into Egyptian mythology. A serpent in + the Egyptian language was called Ob or Aub. Obion is still the Egyptian + name for a serpent. Moses, in the name of God, forbade the Israelites ever + to enquire of the demon, Ob, which is translated in our Bible: Charmer or + wizard, divinator or sorcerer. The Witch of Endor is called Oub or Ob, + translated Pythonissa; and Oubois was the name of the basilisk or royal + serpent, emblem of the Sun and an ancient oracular deity of Africa.” + </p> + <p> + A paragraph followed which was doubly underlined, and pursuing my reading + I made a discovery which literally caused me to hold my breath. This is + what I read: + </p> + <p> + “In a recent contribution to the <i>Occult Review</i>, Mr. Colin Camber, + the American authority, offered some very curious particulars in support + of a theory to show that whereas snakes and scorpions have always been + recognized as sacred by Voodoo worshippers, the real emblem of their + unclean religion is the bat, especially <i>the Vampire Bat of South + America.</i> + </p> + <p> + “He pointed out that the symptoms of one dying beneath the spell of an + Obeah man are closely paralleled in the cases of men and animals who have + suffered from nocturnal attacks of blood-sucking bats.” + </p> + <p> + I laid the open book down upon the bed. My brain was in a tumult. The + several theories, or outlines of theories which hitherto I had + entertained, were, by these simple paragraphs, cast into the utmost + disorder. I thought of the Colonel’s covert references to a neighbour whom + he feared, of his guarded statement that the devotees of Voodoo were not + confined to the West Indies, of the attack upon him in Washington, of the + bat wing pinned to the door of Cray’s Folly. + </p> + <p> + Incredulously, I thought of my acquaintance of the Lavender Arms, with his + bemused expression and his magnificent brow; and a great doubt and wonder + grew up in my mind. + </p> + <p> + I became increasingly impatient for the return of Paul Harley. I felt that + a clue of the first importance had fallen into my possession; so that + when, presently, as I walked impatiently up and down the room, the door + opened and Harley entered, I greeted him excitedly. + </p> + <p> + “Harley!” I cried, “Harley! I have learned a most extraordinary thing!” + </p> + <p> + Even as I spoke and looked into the keen, eager face, the expression in + Harley’s eyes struck me. I recognized that in him, too, intense excitement + was pent up. Furthermore, he was in one of his irritable moods. But, full + of my own discoveries: + </p> + <p> + “I chanced to glance at this book,” I continued, “whilst I was waiting for + you. You have underlined certain passages.” + </p> + <p> + He stared at me queerly. + </p> + <p> + “I discovered the book in my own library after you had gone last night, + Knox, and it was then that I marked the passages which struck me as + significant.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Harley,” I cried, “the man who is quoted here, Colin Camber, lives + in this very neighbourhood!” + </p> + <p> + “I know.” + </p> + <p> + “What! You know?” + </p> + <p> + “I learned it from Inspector Aylesbury of the County Police half an hour + ago.” + </p> + <p> + Harley frowned perplexedly. “Then, why, in Heaven’s name didn’t you tell + me?” he exclaimed. “It would have saved me a most disagreeable journey + into Market Hilton.” + </p> + <p> + “Market Hilton! What, have you been into the town?” + </p> + <p> + “That is exactly where I have been, Knox. I ‘phoned through to Innes from + the village post-office after lunch to have the car sent down. There is a + convenient garage by the Lavender Arms.” + </p> + <p> + “But the Colonel has three cars,” I exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “The horse has four legs,” replied Harley, irritably, “but although I have + only two, there are times when I prefer to use them. I am still wondering + why you failed to mention this piece of information when you had obtained + it.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Harley,” said I, patiently, “how could I possibly be expected to + attach any importance to the matter? You must remember that at the time I + had never seen this work on negro sorcery.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Harley, dropping down upon the bed, “that is perfectly true, + Knox. I am afraid I have a liver at times; a distinct Indian liver. Excuse + me, old man, but to tell you the truth I feel strangely inclined to pack + my bag and leave for London without a moment’s delay.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” I cried. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I know you would be sorry to go, Knox,” said Harley, smiling, “and + so, for many reasons, should I. But I have the strongest possible + objection to being trifled with.” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid I don’t quite understand you, Harley.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, just consider the matter for a moment. Do you suppose that Colonel + Menendez is ignorant of the fact that his nearest neighbour is a + recognized authority upon Voodoo and allied subjects?” + </p> + <p> + “You are speaking, of course, of Colin Camber?” + </p> + <p> + “Of none other.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” I replied, thoughtfully, “the Colonel must know, of course, that + Camber resides in the neighbourhood.” + </p> + <p> + “And that he knows something of the nature of Camber’s studies his remarks + sufficiently indicate,” added Harley. “The whole theory to account for + these attacks upon his life rests on the premise that agents of these + Obeah people are established in England and America. Then, in spite of my + direct questions, he leaves me to find out for myself that Colin Camber’s + property practically adjoins his own!” + </p> + <p> + “Really! Does he reside so near as that?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear fellow,” cried Harley, “he lives at a place called the Guest + House. You can see it from part of the grounds of Cray’s Folly. We were + looking at it to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “What! the house on the hillside?” + </p> + <p> + “That’s the Guest House! What do you make of it, Knox? That Menendez + suspects this man is beyond doubt. Why should he hesitate to mention his + name?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” I replied, slowly, “probably because to associate practical + sorcery and assassination with such a character would be preposterous.” + </p> + <p> + “But the man is admittedly a student of these things, Knox.” + </p> + <p> + “He may be, and that he is a genius of some kind I am quite prepared to + believe. But having had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Colin Camber, I am not + prepared to believe him capable of murder.” + </p> + <p> + I suppose I spoke with a certain air of triumph, for Paul Harley regarded + me silently for a while. + </p> + <p> + “You seem to be taking this case out of my hands, Knox,” he said. “Whilst + I have been systematically at work racing about the county in quest of + information you would appear to have blundered further into the labyrinth + than all my industry has enabled me to do.” + </p> + <p> + He remained in a very evil humour, and now the cause of this suddenly came + to light. + </p> + <p> + “I have spent a thoroughly unpleasant afternoon,” he continued, + “interviewing an impossible country policeman who had never heard of my + existence!” + </p> + <p> + This display of human resentment honestly delighted me. It was refreshing + to know that the omniscient Paul Harley was capable of pique. + </p> + <p> + “One, Inspector Aylesbury,” he went on, bitterly, “a large person bearing + a really interesting resemblance to a walrus, but lacking that creature’s + intelligence. It was not until Superintendent East had spoken to him from + Scotland Yard that he ceased to treat me as a suspect. But his new + attitude was almost more provoking than the old one. He adopted the manner + of a regimental sergeant-major reluctantly interviewing a private with a + grievance. If matters should so develop that we are compelled to deal with + that fish-faced idiot, God help us all!” + </p> + <p> + He burst out laughing, his good humour suddenly quite restored, and taking + out his pipe began industriously to load it. + </p> + <p> + “I can smoke while I am changing,” he said, “and you can sit there and + tell me all about Colin Camber.” + </p> + <p> + I did as he requested, and Harley, who could change quicker than any man I + had ever known, had just finished tying his bow as I completed my story of + the encounter at the Lavender Arms. + </p> + <p> + “Hm,” he muttered, as I ceased speaking. “At every turn I realize that + without you I should have been lost, Knox. I am afraid I shall have to + change your duties to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Change my duties? What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “I warn you that the new ones will be less pleasant than the old! In other + words, I must ask you to tear yourself away from Miss Val Beverley for an + hour in the morning, and take advantage of Mr. Camber’s invitation to call + upon him.” + </p> + <p> + “Frankly, I doubt if he would acknowledge me.” + </p> + <p> + “Nevertheless, you have a better excuse than I. In the circumstances it is + most important that we should get in touch with this man.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” I said, ruefully. “I will do my best. But you don’t seriously + think, Harley, that the danger comes from there?” + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley took his dinner jacket from the chair upon which the man had + laid it out, and turned to me. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Knox,” he said, “you may remember that I spoke, recently, of + retiring from this profession?” + </p> + <p> + “You did.” + </p> + <p> + “My retirement will not be voluntary, Knox. I shall be kicked out as an + incompetent ass; for, respecting the connection, if any, between the + narrative of Colonel Menendez, the bat wing nailed to the door of the + house, and Mr. Colin Camber, I have not the foggiest notion. In this, at + last, I have triumphed over Auguste Dupin. Auguste Dupin never confessed + defeat.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X. THE NIGHT WALKER + </h2> + <p> + If luncheon had seemed extravagant, dinner at Cray’s Folly proved to be a + veritable Roman banquet. To associate ideas of selfishness with Miss + Beverley was hateful, but the more I learned of the luxurious life of this + queer household hidden away in the Surrey Hills the less I wondered at any + one’s consenting to share such exile. I had hitherto counted an American + freak dinner, organized by a lucky plunger and held at the Café de Paris, + as the last word in extravagant feasting. But I learned now that what was + caviare in Monte Carlo was ordinary fare at Cray’s Folly. + </p> + <p> + Colonel Menendez was an epicure with an endless purse. The excellence of + one of the courses upon which I had commented led to a curious incident. + </p> + <p> + “You approve of the efforts of my chef?” said the Colonel. + </p> + <p> + “He is worthy of his employer,” I replied. + </p> + <p> + Colonel Menendez bowed in his cavalierly fashion and Madame de Stämer + positively beamed upon me. + </p> + <p> + “You shall speak for him,” said the Spaniard. “He was with me in Cuba, but + has no reputation in London. There are hotels that would snap him up.” + </p> + <p> + I looked at the speaker in surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Surely he is not leaving you?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + The Colonel exhibited a momentary embarrassment. + </p> + <p> + “No, no. No, no,” he replied, waving his hand gracefully, “I was only + thinking that he—” there was a scarcely perceptible pause—“might + wish to better himself. You understand?” + </p> + <p> + I understood only too well; and recollecting the words spoken by Paul + Harley that afternoon, respecting the Colonel’s will to live, I became + conscious of an uncomfortable sense of chill. + </p> + <p> + If I had doubted that in so speaking he had been contemplating his own + death, the behaviour of Madame de Stämer must have convinced me. Her + complexion was slightly but cleverly made up, with all the exquisite art + of the Parisienne, but even through the artificial bloom I saw her cheeks + blanch. Her face grew haggard and her eyes burned unnaturally. She turned + quickly aside to address Paul Harley, but I knew that the significance of + this slight episode had not escaped him. + </p> + <p> + He was by no means at ease. In the first place, he was badly puzzled; in + the second place, he was angry. He felt it incumbent upon him to save this + man from a menace which he, Paul Harley, evidently recognized to be real, + although to me it appeared wildly chimerical, and the very person upon + whose active coöperation he naturally counted not only seemed resigned to + his fate, but by deliberate omission of important data added to Harley’s + difficulties. + </p> + <p> + How much of this secret drama proceeding in Cray’s Folly was appreciated + by Val Beverley I could not determine. On this occasion, I remember, she + was simply but perfectly dressed and, in my eyes, seemed the most sweetly + desirable woman I had ever known. Realizing that I had already revealed my + interest in the girl, I was oddly self-conscious, and a hundred times + during the progress of dinner I glanced across at Harley, expecting to + detect his quizzical smile. He was very stern, however, and seemed more + reserved than usual. He was uncertain of his ground, I could see. He + resented the understanding which evidently existed between Colonel + Menendez and Madame de Stämer, and to which, although his aid had been + sought, he was not admitted. + </p> + <p> + It seemed to me, personally, that an almost palpable shadow lay upon the + room. Although, save for this one lapse, our host throughout talked gaily + and entertainingly, I was obsessed by a memory of the expression which I + had detected upon his face that morning, the expression of a doomed man. + </p> + <p> + What, in Heaven’s name, I asked myself, did it all mean? If ever I saw the + fighting spirit looking out of any man’s eyes, it looked out of the eyes + of Don Juan Sarmiento Menendez. Why, then, did he lie down to the menace + of this mysterious Bat Wing, and if he counted opposition futile, why had + he summoned Paul Harley to Cray’s Folly? + </p> + <p> + With the passing of every moment I sympathized more fully with the + perplexity of my friend, and no longer wondered that even his highly + specialized faculties had failed to detect an explanation. + </p> + <p> + Remembering Colin Camber as I had seen him at the Lavender Arms, it was + simply impossible to suppose that such a man as Menendez could fear such a + man as Camber. True, I had seen the latter at a disadvantage, and I knew + well enough that many a genius has been also a drunkard. But although I + was prepared to find that Colin Camber possessed genius, I found it hard + to believe that this was of a criminal type. That such a character could + be the representative of some remote negro society was an idea too + grotesque to be entertained for a moment. + </p> + <p> + I was tempted to believe that his presence in the neighbourhood of this + haunted Cuban was one of those strange coincidences which in criminal + history have sometimes proved so tragic for their victims. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Stämer, avoiding the Colonel’s glances, which were pathetically + apologetic, gradually recovered herself, and: + </p> + <p> + “My dear,” she said to Val Beverley, “you look perfectly sweet to-night. + Don’t you think she looks perfectly sweet, Mr. Knox?” + </p> + <p> + Ignoring a look of entreaty from the blue-gray eyes: + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly,” I replied. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Mr. Knox,” cried the girl, “why do you encourage her? She says + embarrassing things like that every time I put on a new dress.” + </p> + <p> + Her reference to a new dress set me speculating again upon the apparent + anomaly of her presence at Cray’s Folly. That she was not a professional + “companion” was clear enough. I assumed that her father had left her + suitably provided for, since she wore such expensively simple gowns. She + had a delightful trick of blushing when attention was focussed upon her, + and said Madame de Stämer: + </p> + <p> + “To be able to blush like that I would give my string of pearls—no, + half of it.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Marie,” declared Colonel Menendez, “I have seen you blush + perfectly.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” Madame disclaimed the suggestion with one of those Bernhardt + gestures, “I blushed my last blush when my second husband introduced me to + my first husband’s wife.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame!” exclaimed Val Beverley, “how can you say such things?” She + turned to me. “Really, Mr. Knox, they are all fables.” + </p> + <p> + “In fables we renew our youth,” said Madame. + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” sighed Colonel Menendez; “our youth, our youth.” + </p> + <p> + “Why sigh, Juan, why regret?” cried Madame, immediately. “Old age is only + tragic to those who have never been young.” + </p> + <p> + She directed a glance toward him as she spoke those words, and as I had + felt when I had seen his tragic face on the veranda that morning I felt + again in detecting this look of Madame de Stämer’s. The yearning yet + selfless love which it expressed was not for my eyes to witness. + </p> + <p> + “Thank God, Marie,” replied the Colonel, and gallantly kissed his hand to + her, “we have both been young, gloriously young.” + </p> + <p> + When, at the termination of this truly historic dinner, the ladies left + us: + </p> + <p> + “Remember, Juan,” said Madame, raising her white, jewelled hand, and + holding the fingers characteristically curled, “no excitement, no + billiards, no cards.” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Menendez bowed deeply, as the invalid wheeled herself from the + room, followed by Miss Beverley. My heart was beating delightfully, for in + the moment of departure the latter had favoured me with a significant + glance, which seemed to say, “I am looking forward to a chat with you + presently.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” said Colonel Menendez, when we three men found ourselves alone, + “truly I am blessed in the autumn of my life with such charming + companionship. Beauty and wit, youth and discretion. Is he not a happy man + who possesses all these?” + </p> + <p> + “He should be,” said Harley, gravely. + </p> + <p> + The saturnine Pedro entered with some wonderful crusted port, and Colonel + Menendez offered cigars. + </p> + <p> + “I believe you are a pipe-smoker,” said our courteous host to Harley, “and + if this is so, I know that you will prefer your favourite mixture to any + cigar that ever was rolled.” + </p> + <p> + “Many thanks,” said Harley, to whom no more delicate compliment could have + been paid. + </p> + <p> + He was indeed an inveterate pipe-smoker, and only rarely did he truly + enjoy a cigar, however choice its pedigree. With a sigh of content he + began to fill his briar. His mood was more restful, and covertly I watched + him studying our host. The night remained very warm and one of the two + windows of the dining room, which was the most homely apartment in Cray’s + Folly, was wide open, offering a prospect of sweeping velvet lawns touched + by the magic of the moonlight. + </p> + <p> + A short silence fell, to be broken by the Colonel. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen,” he said, “I trust you do not regret your fishing excursion?” + </p> + <p> + “I could cheerfully pass the rest of my days in such ideal surroundings,” + replied Paul Harley. + </p> + <p> + I nodded in agreement. + </p> + <p> + “But,” continued my friend, speaking very deliberately, “I have to + remember that I am here upon business, and that my professional reputation + is perhaps at stake.” + </p> + <p> + He stared very hard at Colonel Menendez. + </p> + <p> + “I have spoken with your butler, known as Pedro, and with some of the + other servants, and have learned all that there is to be learned about the + person unknown who gained admittance to the house a month ago, and + concerning the wing of a bat, found attached to the door more recently.” + </p> + <p> + “And to what conclusion have you come?” asked Colonel Menendez, eagerly. + </p> + <p> + He bent forward, resting his elbows upon his knees, a pose which he + frequently adopted. He was smoking a cigar, but his total absorption in + the topic under discussion was revealed by the fact that from a pocket in + his dinner jacket he had taken out a portion of tobacco, had laid it in a + slip of rice paper, and was busily rolling one of his eternal cigarettes. + </p> + <p> + “I might be enabled to come to one,” replied Harley, “if you would answer + a very simple question.” + </p> + <p> + “What is this question?” + </p> + <p> + “It is this—Have you any idea who nailed the bat’s wing to your + door?” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Menendez’s eyes opened very widely, and his face became more + aquiline than ever. + </p> + <p> + “You have heard my story, Mr. Harley,” he replied, softly. “If I know the + explanation, why do I come to you?” + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley puffed at his pipe. His expression did not alter in the + slightest. + </p> + <p> + “I merely wondered if your suspicions tended in the direction of Mr. Colin + Camber,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Colin Camber!” + </p> + <p> + As the Colonel spoke the name either I became victim of a strange delusion + or his face was momentarily convulsed. If my senses served me aright then + his pronouncing of the words “Colin Camber” occasioned him positive agony. + He clutched the arms of his chair, striving, I thought, to retain + composure, and in this he succeeded, for when he spoke again his voice was + quite normal. + </p> + <p> + “Have you any particular reason for your remark, Mr. Harley?” + </p> + <p> + “I have a reason,” replied Paul Harley, “but don’t misunderstand me. I + suggest nothing against Mr. Camber. I should be glad, however, to know if + you are acquainted with him?” + </p> + <p> + “We have never met.” + </p> + <p> + “You possibly know him by repute?” + </p> + <p> + “I have heard of him, Mr. Harley. But to be perfectly frank, I have little + in common with citizens of the United States.” + </p> + <p> + A note of arrogance, which at times crept into his high, thin voice, + became perceptible now, and the aristocratic, aquiline face looked very + supercilious. + </p> + <p> + How the conversation would have developed I know not, but at this moment + Pedro entered and delivered a message in Spanish to the Colonel, whereupon + the latter arose and with very profuse apologies begged permission to + leave us for a few moments. + </p> + <p> + When he had retired: + </p> + <p> + “I am going upstairs to write a letter, Knox,” said Paul Harley. “Carry on + with your old duties to-day, your new ones do not commence until + to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + With that he laughed and walked out of the dining room, leaving me + wondering whether to be grateful or annoyed. However, it did not take me + long to find my way to the drawing room where the two ladies were seated + side by side upon a settee, Madame’s chair having been wheeled into a + corner. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Mr. Knox,” exclaimed Madame as I entered, “have the others deserted, + then?” + </p> + <p> + “Scarcely deserted, I think. They are merely straggling.” + </p> + <p> + “Absent without leave,” murmured Val Beverley. + </p> + <p> + I laughed, and drew up a chair. Madame de Stämer was smoking, but Miss + Beverley was not. Accordingly, I offered her a cigarette, which she + accepted, and as I was lighting it with elaborate care, every moment + finding a new beauty in her charming face, Pedro again appeared and + addressed some remark in Spanish to Madame. + </p> + <p> + “My chair, Pedro,” she said; “I will come at once.” + </p> + <p> + The Spanish butler wheeled the chair across to the settee, and lifting her + with an ease which spoke of long practice, placed her amidst the cushions + where she spent so many hours of her life. + </p> + <p> + “I know you will excuse me, dear,” she said to Val Beverley, “because I + feel sure that Mr. Knox will do his very best to make up for my absence. + Presently, I shall be back.” + </p> + <p> + Pedro holding the door open, she went wheeling out, and I found myself + alone with Val Beverley. + </p> + <p> + At the time I was much too delighted to question the circumstances which + had led to this tête-à-tête, but had I cared to give the matter any + consideration, it must have presented rather curious features. The call + first of host and then of hostess was inconsistent with the courtesy of + the master of Cray’s Folly, which, like the appointments of his home and + his mode of life, was elaborate. But these ideas did not trouble me at the + moment. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly, however, indeed before I had time to speak, the girl started and + laid her hand upon my arm. + </p> + <p> + “Did you hear something?” she whispered, “a queer sort of sound?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” I replied, “what kind of sound?” + </p> + <p> + “An odd sort of sound, almost like—the flapping of wings.” + </p> + <p> + I saw that she had turned pale, I saw the confirmation of something which + I had only partly realised before: that her life at Cray’s Folly was a + constant fight against some haunting shadow. Her gaiety, her lightness, + were but a mask. For now, in those wide-open eyes, I read absolute horror. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Beverley,” I said, grasping her hand reassuringly, “you alarm me. + What has made you so nervous to-night?” + </p> + <p> + “To-night!” she echoed, “to-night? It is every night. If you had not come—” + she corrected herself—“if someone had not come, I don’t think I + could have stayed. I am sure I could not have stayed.” + </p> + <p> + “Doubtless the attempted burglary alarmed you?” I suggested, intending to + sooth her fears. + </p> + <p> + “Burglary?” She smiled unmirthfully. “It was no burglary.” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you say so, Miss Beverley?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think I don’t know why Mr. Harley is here?” she challenged. “Oh, + believe me, I know—I know. I, too, saw the bat’s wing nailed to the + door, Mr. Knox. You are surely not going to suggest that this was the work + of a burglar?” + </p> + <p> + I seated myself beside her on the settee. + </p> + <p> + “You have great courage,” I said. “Believe me, I quite understand all that + you have suffered.” + </p> + <p> + “Is my acting so poor?” she asked, with a pathetic smile. + </p> + <p> + “No, it is wonderful, but to a sympathetic observer only acting, + nevertheless.” + </p> + <p> + I noted that my presence reassured her, and was much comforted by this + fact. + </p> + <p> + “Would you like to tell me all about it,” I continued; “or would this + merely renew your fears?” + </p> + <p> + “I should like to tell you,” she replied in a low voice, glancing about + her as if to make sure that we were alone. “Except for odd people, + friends, I suppose, of the Colonel’s, we have had so few visitors since we + have been at Cray’s Folly. Apart from all sorts of queer happenings which + really”—she laughed nervously—“may have no significance + whatever, the crowning mystery to my mind is why Colonel Menendez should + have leased this huge house.” + </p> + <p> + “He does not entertain very much, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Scarcely at all. The ‘County’—do you know what I mean by the + ‘County?’—began by receiving him with open arms and ended by sending + him to Coventry. His lavish style of entertainment they labelled ‘swank’—horrible + word but very expressive! They concluded that they did not understand him, + and of everything they don’t understand they disapprove. So after the + first month or so it became very lonely at Cray’s Folly. Our foreign + servants—there are five of them altogether—got us a dreadfully + bad name. Then, little by little, a sort of cloud seemed to settle on + everything. The Colonel made two visits abroad, I don’t know exactly where + he went, but on his return from the first visit Madame de Stämer changed.” + </p> + <p> + “Changed?—in what way?” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid it would be hopeless to try to make you understand, Mr. Knox, + but in some subtle way she changed. Underneath all her vivacity she is a + tragic woman, and—oh, how can I explain?” Val Beverley made a little + gesture of despair. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you mean,” I suggested, “that she seemed to become even less + happy than before?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she replied, looking at me eagerly. “Has Colonel Menendez told you + anything to account for it?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing,” I said, “He has left us strangely in the dark. But you say he + went abroad on a second and more recent occasion?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, not much more than a month ago. And after that, somehow or other, + matters seemed to come to a head. I confess I became horribly frightened, + but to have left would have seemed like desertion, and Madame de Stämer + has been so good to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you actually witness any of the episodes which took place about a + month ago?” + </p> + <p> + Val Beverley shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “I never saw anything really definite,” she replied. + </p> + <p> + “Yet, evidently you either saw or heard something which alarmed you.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that is true, but it is so difficult to explain.” + </p> + <p> + “Could you try to explain?” + </p> + <p> + “I will try if you wish, for really I am longing to talk to someone about + it. For instance, on several occasions I have heard footsteps in the + corridor outside my room.” + </p> + <p> + “At night?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, at night.” + </p> + <p> + “Strange footsteps?” + </p> + <p> + She nodded. + </p> + <p> + “That is the uncanny part of it. You know how familiar one grows with the + footsteps of persons living in the same house? Well, these footsteps were + quite unfamiliar to me.” + </p> + <p> + “And you say they passed your door?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. My rooms are almost directly overhead. And right at the end of the + corridor, that is on the southeast corner of the building, is Colonel + Menendez’s bedroom, and facing it a sort of little smoke-room. It was in + this direction that the footsteps went.” + </p> + <p> + “To Colonel Menendez’s room?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. They were light, furtive footsteps.” + </p> + <p> + “This took place late at night?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite late, long after everyone had retired.” + </p> + <p> + She paused, staring at me with a sort of embarrassment, and presently: + </p> + <p> + “Were the footsteps those of a man or a woman?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Of a woman. Someone, Mr. Knox,” she bent forward, and that look of fear + began to creep into her eyes again, “with whose footsteps I was quite + unfamiliar.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean a stranger to the house?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Oh, it was uncanny.” She shuddered. “The first time I heard it I had + been lying awake listening. I was nervous. Madame de Stämer had told me + that morning that the Colonel had seen someone lurking about the lawns on + the previous night. Then, as I lay awake listening for the slightest + sound, I suddenly detected these footsteps; and they paused—right + outside my door.” + </p> + <p> + “Good heavens!” I exclaimed. “What did you do?” + </p> + <p> + “Frankly, I was too frightened to do anything. I just lay still with my + heart beating horribly, and presently they passed on, and I heard them no + more.” + </p> + <p> + “Was your door locked?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” She laughed nervously. “But it has been locked every night since + then!” + </p> + <p> + “And these sounds were repeated on other nights?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I have often heard them, Mr. Knox. What makes it so strange is that + all the servants sleep out in the west wing, as you know, and Pedro locks + the communicating door every night before retiring.” + </p> + <p> + “It is certainly strange,” I muttered. + </p> + <p> + “It is horrible,” declared the girl, almost in a whisper. “For what can it + mean except that there is someone in Cray’s Folly who is never seen during + the daytime?” + </p> + <p> + “But that is incredible.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not so incredible in a big house like this. Besides, what other + explanation can there be?” + </p> + <p> + “There must be one,” I said, reassuringly. “Have you spoken of this to + Madame de Stämer?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + Val Beverley’s expression grew troubled. + </p> + <p> + “Had she any explanation to offer?” + </p> + <p> + “None. Her attitude mystified me very much. Indeed, instead of reassuring + me, she frightened me more than ever by her very silence. I grew to dread + the coming of each night. Then—” she hesitated again, looking at me + pathetically—“twice I have been awakened by a loud cry.” + </p> + <p> + “What kind of cry?” + </p> + <p> + “I could not tell you, Mr. Knox. You see I have always been asleep when it + has come, but I have sat up trembling and dimly aware that what had + awakened me was a cry of some kind.” + </p> + <p> + “You have no idea from whence it proceeded?” + </p> + <p> + “None whatever. Of course, all these things may seem trivial to you, and + possibly they can be explained in quite a simple way. But this feeling of + something pending has grown almost unendurable. Then, I don’t understand + Madame and the Colonel at all.” + </p> + <p> + She suddenly stopped speaking and flushed with embarrassment. + </p> + <p> + “If you mean that Madame de Stämer is in love with her cousin, I agree + with you,” I said, quietly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, is it so evident as that?” murmured Val Beverley. She laughed to + cover her confusion. “I wish I could understand what it all means.” + </p> + <p> + At this point our tête-à-tête was interrupted by the return of Madame de + Stämer. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, la la!” she cried, “the Colonel must have allowed himself to become + too animated this evening. He is threatened with one of his attacks and I + have insisted upon his immediate retirement. He makes his apologies, but + knows you will understand.” + </p> + <p> + I expressed my concern, and: + </p> + <p> + “I was unaware that Colonel Menendez’s health was impaired,” I said. + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” Madame shrugged characteristically. “Juan has travelled too much of + the road of life on top speed, Mr. Knox.” She snapped her white fingers + and grimaced significantly. “Excitement is bad for him.” + </p> + <p> + She wheeled her chair up beside Val Beverley, and taking the girl’s hand + patted it affectionately. + </p> + <p> + “You look pale to-night, my dear,” she said. “All this bogey business is + getting on your nerves, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, not at all,” declared the girl. “It is very mysterious and annoying, + of course.” + </p> + <p> + “But M. Paul Harley will presently tell us what it is all about,” + concluded Madame. “Yes, I trust so. We want no Cuban devils here at Cray’s + Folly.” + </p> + <p> + I had hoped that she would speak further of the matter, but having thus + apologized for our host’s absence, she plunged into an amusing account of + Parisian society, and of the changes which five years of war had brought + about. Her comments, although brilliant, were superficial, the only point + I recollect being her reference to a certain Baron Bergmann, a Swedish + diplomat, who, according to Madame, had the longest nose and the shortest + memory in Paris, so that in the cold weather, “he even sometimes forgot to + blow his nose.” + </p> + <p> + Her brightness I thought was almost feverish. She chattered and laughed + and gesticulated, but on this occasion she was overacting. Underneath all + her vivacity lay something cold and grim. + </p> + <p> + Harley rejoined us in half an hour or so, but I could see that he was as + conscious of the air of tension as I was. All Madame’s high spirits could + not enable her to conceal the fact that she was anxious to retire. But + Harley’s evident desire to do likewise surprised me very greatly; for from + the point of view of the investigation the day had been an unsatisfactory + one. I knew that there must be a hundred and one things which my friend + desired to know, questions which Madame de Stämer could have answered. + Nevertheless, at about ten o’clock we separated for the night, and + although I was intensely anxious to talk to Harley, his reticent mood had + descended upon him again, and: + </p> + <p> + “Sleep well, Knox,” he said, as he paused at my door. “I may be awakening + you early.” + </p> + <p> + With which cryptic remark and not another word he passed on and entered + his own room. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI. THE SHADOW ON THE BLIND + </h2> + <p> + Perhaps it was childish on my part, but I accepted this curt dismissal + very ill-humouredly. That Harley, for some reason of his own, wished to be + alone, was evident enough, but I resented being excluded from his + confidence, even temporarily. It would seem that he had formed a theory in + the prosecution of which my coöperation was not needed. And what with + profitless conjectures concerning its nature, and memories of Val + Beverley’s pathetic parting glance as we had bade one another good-night, + sleep seemed to be out of the question, and I stood for a long time + staring out of the open window. + </p> + <p> + The weather remained almost tropically hot, and the moon floated in a + cloudless sky. I looked down upon the closely matted leaves of the box + hedge, which rose to within a few feet of my window, and to the left I + could obtain a view of the close-hemmed courtyard before the doors of + Cray’s Folly. On the right the yews began, obstructing my view of the + Tudor garden, but the night air was fragrant, and the outlook one of + peace. + </p> + <p> + After a time, then, as no sound came from the adjoining room, I turned in, + and despite all things was soon fast asleep. + </p> + <p> + Almost immediately, it seemed, I was awakened. In point of fact, nearly + four hours had elapsed. A hand grasped my shoulder, and I sprang up in bed + with a stifled cry, but: + </p> + <p> + “It’s all right, Knox,” came Harley’s voice. “Don’t make a noise.” + </p> + <p> + “Harley!” I said. “Harley! what has happened?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing, nothing. I am sorry to have to disturb your beauty sleep, but in + the absence of Innes I am compelled to use you as a dictaphone, Knox. I + like to record impressions while they are fresh, hence my having awakened + you.” + </p> + <p> + “But what has happened?” I asked again, for my brain was not yet fully + alert. + </p> + <p> + “No, don’t light up!” said Harley, grasping my wrist as I reached out + toward the table-lamp. + </p> + <p> + His figure showed as a black silhouette against the dim square of the + window. + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it’s nearly two o’clock. The light might be observed.” + </p> + <p> + “Two o’clock?” I exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I think we might smoke, though. Have you any cigarettes? I have left + my pipe behind.” + </p> + <p> + I managed to find my case, and in the dim light of the match which I + presently struck I saw that Paul Harley’s face was very fixed and grim. He + seated himself on the edge of my bed, and: + </p> + <p> + “I have been guilty of a breach of hospitality, Knox,” he began. “Not only + have I secretly had my own car sent down here, but I have had something + else sent, as well. I brought it in under my coat this evening.” + </p> + <p> + “To what do you refer, Harley?” + </p> + <p> + “You remember the silken rope-ladder with bamboo rungs which I brought + from Hongkong on one occasion?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I have it in my bag now.” + </p> + <p> + “But, my dear fellow, what possible use can it be to you at Cray’s Folly?” + </p> + <p> + “It has been of great use,” he returned, shortly. + </p> + <p> + “It enabled me to descend from my window a couple of hours ago and to + return again quite recently without disturbing the household. Don’t + reproach me, Knox. I know it is a breach of confidence, but so is the + behaviour of Colonel Menendez.” + </p> + <p> + “You refer to his reticence on certain points?” + </p> + <p> + “I do. I have a reputation to lose, Knox, and if an ingenious piece of + Chinese workmanship can save it, it shall be saved.” + </p> + <p> + “But, my dear Harley, why should you want to leave the house secretly at + night?” + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley’s cigarette glowed in the dark, then: + </p> + <p> + “My original object,” he replied, “was to endeavour to learn if any one + were really watching the place. For instance, I wanted to see if all + lights were out at the Guest House.” + </p> + <p> + “And were they?” I asked, eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “They were. Secondly,” he continued, “I wanted to convince myself that + there were no nocturnal prowlers from within or without.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean by within or without?” + </p> + <p> + “Listen, Knox.” He bent toward me in the dark, grasping my shoulder + firmly. “One window in Cray’s Folly was lighted up.” + </p> + <p> + “At what hour?” + </p> + <p> + “The light is there yet.” + </p> + <p> + That he was about to make some strange revelation I divined. I detected + the fact, too, that he believed this revelation would be unpleasant to me; + and in this I found an explanation of his earlier behaviour. He had seemed + distraught and ill at ease when he had joined Madame de Stämer, Miss + Beverley, and myself in the drawing room. I could only suppose that this + and the abrupt parting with me outside my door had been due to his holding + a theory which he had proposed to put to the test before confiding it to + me. I remember that I spoke very slowly as I asked him the question: + </p> + <p> + “Whose is the lighted window, Harley?” + </p> + <p> + “Has Colonel Menendez taken you into a little snuggery or smoke-room which + faces his bedroom in the southeast corner of the house?” + </p> + <p> + “No, but Miss Beverley has mentioned the room.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah. Well, there is a light in that room, Knox.” + </p> + <p> + “Possibly the Colonel has not retired?” + </p> + <p> + “According to Madame de Stämer he went to bed several hours ago, you may + remember.” + </p> + <p> + “True,” I murmured, fumbling for the significance of his words. + </p> + <p> + “The next point is this,” he resumed. “You saw Madame retire to her own + room, which, as you know, is on the ground floor, and I have satisfied + myself that the door communicating with the servants’ wing is locked.” + </p> + <p> + “I see. But to what is all this leading, Harley?” + </p> + <p> + “To a very curious fact, and the fact is this: The Colonel is not alone.” + </p> + <p> + I sat bolt upright. + </p> + <p> + “What?” I cried. + </p> + <p> + “Not so loud,” warned Harley. + </p> + <p> + “But, Harley—” + </p> + <p> + “My dear fellow, we must face facts. I repeat, the Colonel is not alone.” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you say so?” + </p> + <p> + “Twice I have seen a shadow on the blind of the smoke-room.” + </p> + <p> + “His own shadow, probably.” + </p> + <p> + Again Paul Harley’s cigarette glowed in the darkness. + </p> + <p> + “I am prepared to swear,” he replied, “that it was the shadow of a woman.” + </p> + <p> + “Harley——” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t get excited, Knox. I am dealing with the strangest case of my + career, and I am jumping to no conclusions. But just let us look at the + circumstances judicially. The whole of the domestic staff we may dismiss, + with the one exception of Mrs. Fisher, who, so far as I can make out, + occupies the position of a sort of working housekeeper, and whose rooms + are in the corner of the west wing immediately facing the kitchen garden. + Possibly you have not met Mrs. Fisher, Knox, but I have made it my + business to interview the whole of the staff and I may say that Mrs. + Fisher is a short, stout old lady, a native of Kent, I believe, whose + outline in no way corresponds to that which I saw upon the blind. + Therefore, unless the door which communicates with the servants’ quarters + was unlocked again to-night—to what are we reduced in seeking to + explain the presence of a woman in Colonel Menendez’s room? Madame de + Stämer, unassisted, could not possibly have mounted the stairs.” + </p> + <p> + “Stop, Harley!” I said, sternly. “Stop.” + </p> + <p> + He ceased speaking, and I watched the steady glow of his cigarette in the + darkness. It lighted up his bronzed face and showed me the steely gleam of + his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “You are counting too much on the locking of the door by Pedro,” I + continued, speaking very deliberately. “He is a man I would trust no + farther than I could see him, and if there is anything dark underlying + this matter you depend that he is involved in it. But the most natural + explanation, and also the most simple, is this—Colonel Menendez has + been taken seriously ill, and someone is in his room in the capacity of a + nurse.” + </p> + <p> + “Her behaviour was scarcely that of a nurse in a sick-room,” murmured + Harley. + </p> + <p> + “For God’s sake tell me the truth,” I said. “Tell me all you saw.” + </p> + <p> + “I am quite prepared to do so, Knox. On three occasions, then, I saw the + figure of a woman, who wore some kind of loose robe, quite clearly + silhouetted upon the linen blind. Her gestures strongly resembled those of + despair.” + </p> + <p> + “Of despair?” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly. I gathered that she was addressing someone, presumably Colonel + Menendez, and I derived a strong impression that she was in a condition of + abject despair.” + </p> + <p> + “Harley,” I said, “on your word of honour did you recognize anything in + the movements, or in the outline of the figure, by which you could + identify the woman?” + </p> + <p> + “I did not,” he replied, shortly. “It was a woman who wore some kind of + loose robe, possibly a kimono. Beyond that I could swear to nothing, + except that it was not Mrs. Fisher.” + </p> + <p> + We fell silent for a while. What Paul Harley’s thoughts may have been I + know not, but my own were strange and troubled. Presently I found my voice + again, and: + </p> + <p> + “I think, Harley,” I said, “that I should report to you something which + Miss Beverley told me this evening.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” said he, eagerly. “I am anxious to hear anything which may be of + the slightest assistance. You are no doubt wondering why I retired so + abruptly to-night. My reason was this: I could see that you were full of + some story which you had learned from Miss Beverley, and I was anxious to + perform my tour of inspection with a perfectly unprejudiced mind.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean that your suspicions rested upon an inmate of Cray’s Folly?” + </p> + <p> + “Not upon any particular inmate, but I had early perceived a distinct + possibility that these manifestations of which the Colonel complained + might be due to the agency of someone inside the house. That this person + might be no more than an accomplice of the prime mover I also recognized, + of course. But what did you learn to-night, Knox?” + </p> + <p> + I repeated Val Beverley’s story of the mysterious footsteps and of the + cries which had twice awakened her in the night. + </p> + <p> + “Hm,” muttered Harley, when I had ceased speaking. “Assuming her account + to be true——” + </p> + <p> + “Why should you doubt it?” I interrupted, hotly. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Knox, it is my business to doubt everything until I have + indisputable evidence of its truth. I say, assuming her story to be true, + we find ourselves face to face with the fantastic theory that some woman + unknown is living secretly in Cray’s Folly.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps in one of the tower rooms,” I suggested, eagerly. “Why, Harley, + that would account for the Colonel’s marked unwillingness to talk about + this part of the house.” + </p> + <p> + My sight was now becoming used to the dusk, and I saw Harley vigorously + shake his head. + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” he replied; “I have seen all the tower rooms. I can swear that + no one inhabits them. Besides, is it feasible?” + </p> + <p> + “Then whose were the footsteps that Miss Beverley heard?” + </p> + <p> + “Obviously those of the woman who, at this present moment, so far as I + know, is in the smoking-room with Colonel Menendez.” + </p> + <p> + I sighed wearily. + </p> + <p> + “This is a strange business, Harley. I begin to think that the mystery is + darker than I ever supposed.” + </p> + <p> + We fell silent again. The weird cry of a night hawk came from somewhere in + the valley, but otherwise everything within and without the great house + seemed strangely still. This stillness presently imposed its influence + upon me, for when I spoke again, I spoke in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + “Harley,” I said, “my imagination is playing me tricks. I thought I heard + the fluttering of wings at that moment.” + </p> + <p> + “Fortunately, my imagination remains under control,” he replied, grimly; + “therefore I am in a position to inform you that you did hear the + fluttering of wings. An owl has just flown into one of the trees + immediately outside the window.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said I, and uttered a sigh of relief. + </p> + <p> + “It is extremely fortunate that my imagination is so carefully trained,” + continued Harley; “otherwise, when the woman whose shadow I saw upon the + blind to-night raised her arms in a peculiar fashion, I could not well + have failed to attach undue importance to the shape of the shadow thus + created.” + </p> + <p> + “What was the shape of the shadow, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Remarkably like that of a bat.” + </p> + <p> + He spoke the words quietly, but in that still darkness, with dawn yet a + long way off, they possessed the power which belongs to certain chords in + music, and to certain lines in poetry. I was chilled unaccountably, and I + peopled the empty corridors of Cray’s Folly with I know not what uncanny + creatures; nightmare fancies conjured up from memories of haunted manors. + </p> + <p> + Such was my mood, then, when suddenly Paul Harley stood up. My eyes were + growing more and more used to the darkness, and from something strained in + his attitude I detected the fact that he was listening intently. + </p> + <p> + He placed his cigarette on the table beside the bed and quietly crossed + the room. I knew from his silent tread that he wore shoes with rubber + soles. Very quietly he turned the handle and opened the door. + </p> + <p> + “What is it, Harley?” I whispered. + </p> + <p> + Dimly I saw him raise his hand. Inch by inch he opened the door. My nerves + in a state of tension, I sat there watching him, when without a sound he + slipped out of the room and was gone. Thereupon I arose and followed as + far as the doorway. + </p> + <p> + Harley was standing immediately outside in the corridor. Seeing me, he + stepped back, and: “Don’t move, Knox,” he said, speaking very close to my + ear. “There is someone downstairs in the hall. Wait for me here.” + </p> + <p> + With that he moved stealthily off, and I stood there, my heart beating + with unusual rapidity, listening—listening for a challenge, a cry, a + scuffle—I knew not what to expect. + </p> + <p> + Cavernous and dimly lighted, the corridor stretched away to my left. On + the right it branched sharply in the direction of the gallery overlooking + the hall. + </p> + <p> + The seconds passed, but no sound rewarded my alert listening—until, + very faintly, but echoing in a muffled, church-like fashion around that + peculiar building, came a slight, almost sibilant sound, which I took to + be the gentle closing of a distant door. + </p> + <p> + Whilst I was still wondering if I had really heard this sound or merely + imagined it: + </p> + <p> + “Who goes there?” came sharply in Harley’s voice. + </p> + <p> + I heard a faint click, and knew that he had shone the light of an electric + torch down into the hall. + </p> + <p> + I hesitated no longer, but ran along to join him. As I came to the head of + the main staircase, however, I saw him crossing the hall below. He was + making in the direction of the door which shut off the servants’ quarters. + Here he paused, and I saw him trying the handle. Evidently the door was + locked, for he turned and swept the white ray all about the place. He + tried several other doors, but found them all to be locked, for presently + he came upstairs again, smiling grimly when he saw me there awaiting him. + </p> + <p> + “Did you hear it, Knox?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “A sound like the closing of a door?” + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley nodded. + </p> + <p> + “It <i>was</i> the closing of a door,” he replied; “but before that I had + distinctly heard a stair creak. Someone crossed the hall then, Knox. Yet, + as you perceive for yourself, it affords no hiding-place.” + </p> + <p> + His glance met and challenged mine. + </p> + <p> + “The Colonel’s visitor has left him,” he murmured. “Unless something quite + unforeseen occurs, I shall throw up the case to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII. MORNING MISTS + </h2> + <p> + The man known as Manoel awakened me in the morning. Although + characteristically Spanish, he belonged to a more sanguine type than the + butler and spoke much better English than Pedro. He placed upon the table + beside me a tray containing a small pot of China tea, an apple, a peach, + and three slices of toast. + </p> + <p> + “How soon would you like your bath, sir?” he enquired. + </p> + <p> + “In about half an hour,” I replied. + </p> + <p> + “Breakfast is served at 9.30 if you wish, sir,” continued Manoel, “but the + ladies rarely come down. Would you prefer to breakfast in your room?” + </p> + <p> + “What is Mr. Harley doing?” + </p> + <p> + “He tells me that he does not take breakfast, sir. Colonel Don Juan + Menendez will be unable to ride with you this morning, but a groom will + accompany you to the heath if you wish, which is the best place for a + gallop. Breakfast on the south veranda is very pleasant, sir, if you are + riding first.” + </p> + <p> + “Good,” I replied, for indeed I felt strangely heavy; “it shall be the + heath, then, and breakfast on the veranda.” + </p> + <p> + Having drunk a cup of tea and dressed I went into Harley’s room, to find + him propped up in bed reading the <i>Daily Telegraph</i> and smoking a + cigarette. + </p> + <p> + “I am off for a ride,” I said. “Won’t you join me?” + </p> + <p> + He fixed his pillows more comfortably, and slowly shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit of it, Knox,” he replied, “I find exercise to be fatal to + concentration.” + </p> + <p> + “I know you have weird theories on the subject, but this is a beautiful + morning.” + </p> + <p> + “I grant you the beautiful morning, Knox, but here you will find me when + you return.” + </p> + <p> + I knew him too well to debate the point, and accordingly I left him to his + newspaper and cigarette, and made my way downstairs. A housemaid was busy + in the hall, and in the courtyard before the monastic porch a negro groom + awaited me with two fine mounts. He touched his hat and grinned + expansively as I appeared. A spirited young chestnut was saddled for my + use, and the groom, who informed me that his name was Jim, rode a smaller, + Spanish horse, a beautiful but rather wicked-looking creature. + </p> + <p> + We proceeded down the drive. Pedro was standing at the door of the lodge, + talking to his surly-looking daughter. He saluted me very ceremoniously as + I passed. + </p> + <p> + Pursuing an easterly route for a quarter of a mile or so, we came to a + narrow lane which branched off to the left in a tremendous declivity. + Indeed it presented the appearance of the dry bed of a mountain torrent, + and in wet weather a torrent this lane became, so I was informed by Jim. + It was very rugged and dangerous, and here we dismounted, the groom + leading the horses. + </p> + <p> + Then we were upon a well-laid main road, and along this we trotted on to a + tempting stretch of heath-land. There was a heavy mist, but the scent of + the heather in the early morning was delightful, and there was something + exhilarating in the dull thud of the hoofs upon the springy turf. The + negro was a natural horseman, and he seemed to enjoy the ride every bit as + much as I did. For my own part I was sorry to return. But the vapours of + the night had been effectively cleared from my mind, and when presently we + headed again for the hills, I could think more coolly of those problems + which overnight had seemed well-nigh insoluble. + </p> + <p> + We returned by a less direct route, but only at one point was the path so + steep as that by which we had descended. This brought us out on a road + above and about a mile to the south of Cray’s Folly. At one point, through + a gap in the trees, I found myself looking down at the gray stone building + in its setting of velvet lawns and gaily patterned gardens. A faint mist + hovered like smoke over the grass. + </p> + <p> + Five minutes later we passed a queer old Jacobean house, so deeply hidden + amidst trees that the early morning sun had not yet penetrated to it, + except for one upstanding gable which was bathed in golden light. I should + never have recognized the place from that aspect, but because of its + situation I knew that this must be the Guest House. It seemed very gloomy + and dark, and remembering how I was pledged to call upon Mr. Colin Camber + that day, I apprehended that my reception might be a cold one. + </p> + <p> + Presently we left the road and cantered across the valley meadows, in + which I had walked on the previous day, reentering Cray’s Folly on the + south, although we had left it on the north. We dismounted in the + stable-yard, and I noted two other saddle horses in the stalls, a pair of + very clean-looking hunters, as well as two perfectly matched ponies, + which, Jim informed me, Madame de Stämer sometimes drove in a chaise. + </p> + <p> + Feeling vastly improved by the exercise, I walked around to the veranda, + and through the drawing room to the hall. Manoel was standing there, and: + </p> + <p> + “Your bath is ready, sir,” he said. + </p> + <p> + I nodded and went upstairs. It seemed to me that life at Cray’s Folly was + quite agreeable, and such was my mood that the shadowy Bat Wing menace + found no place in it save as the chimera of a sick man’s imagination. One + thing only troubled me: the identity of the woman who had been with + Colonel Menendez on the previous night. + </p> + <p> + However, such unconscious sun worshippers are we all that in the glory of + that summer morning I realized that life was good, and I resolutely put + behind me the dark suspicions of the night. + </p> + <p> + I looked into Harley’s room ere descending, and, as he had assured me + would be the case, there he was, propped up in bed, the <i>Daily Telegraph</i> + upon the floor beside him and the <i>Times</i> now open upon the coverlet. + </p> + <p> + “I am ravenously hungry,” I said, maliciously, “and am going down to eat a + hearty breakfast.” + </p> + <p> + “Good,” he returned, treating me to one of his quizzical smiles. “It is + delightful to know that someone is happy.” + </p> + <p> + Manoel had removed my unopened newspapers from the bedroom, placing them + on the breakfast table on the south veranda; and I had propped the <i>Mail</i> + up before me and had commenced to explore a juicy grapefruit when + something, perhaps a faint breath of perfume, a slight rustle of + draperies, or merely that indefinable aura which belongs to the presence + of a woman, drew my glance upward and to the left. And there was Val + Beverley smiling down at me. + </p> + <p> + “Good morning, Mr. Knox,” she said. “Oh, please don’t interrupt your + breakfast. May I sit down and talk to you?” + </p> + <p> + “I should be most annoyed if you refused.” + </p> + <p> + She was dressed in a simple summery frock which left her round, + sun-browned arms bare above the elbow, and she laid a huge bunch of roses + upon the table beside my tray. + </p> + <p> + “I am the florist of the establishment,” she explained. “These will + delight your eyes at luncheon. Don’t you think we are a lot of barbarians + here, Mr. Knox?” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, if I had not taken pity upon you, here you would have bat over a + lonely breakfast just as though you were staying at a hotel.” + </p> + <p> + “Delightful,” I replied, “now that you are here.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” said she, and smiled roguishly, “that afterthought just saved you.” + </p> + <p> + “But honestly,” I continued, “the hospitality of Colonel Menendez is true + hospitality. To expect one’s guests to perform their parlour tricks around + a breakfast table in the morning is, on the other hand, true barbarism.” + </p> + <p> + “I quite agree with you,” she said, quietly. “There is a perfectly + delightful freedom about the Colonel’s way of living. Only some horrid old + Victorian prude could possibly take exception to it. Did you enjoy your + ride?” + </p> + <p> + “Immensely,” I replied, watching her delightedly as she arranged the roses + in carefully blended groups. + </p> + <p> + Her fingers were very delicate and tactile, and such is the character + which resides in the human hand, that whereas the gestures of Madame de + Stämer were curiously stimulating, there was something in the movement of + Val Beverley’s pretty fingers amidst the blooms which I found most + soothing. + </p> + <p> + “I passed the Guest House on my return,” I continued. “Do you know Mr. + Camber?” + </p> + <p> + She looked at me in a startled way. + </p> + <p> + “No,” she replied, “I don’t. Do you?” + </p> + <p> + “I met him by chance yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + “Really? I thought he was quite unapproachable; a sort of ogre.” + </p> + <p> + “On the contrary, he is a man of great charm.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said Val Beverley, “well, since you have said so, I might as well + admit that he has always seemed a charming man to me. I have never spoken + to him, but he looks as though he could be very fascinating. Have you met + his wife?” + </p> + <p> + “No. Is she also American?” + </p> + <p> + My companion shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “I have no idea,” she replied. “I have seen her several times of course, + and she is one of the daintiest creatures imaginable, but I know nothing + about her nationality.” + </p> + <p> + “She is young, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Very young, I should say. She looks quite a child.” + </p> + <p> + “The reason of my interest,” I replied, “is that Mr. Camber asked me to + call upon him, and I propose to do so later this morning.” + </p> + <p> + “Really?” + </p> + <p> + Again I detected the startled expression upon Val Beverley’s face. + </p> + <p> + “That is rather curious, since you are staying here.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” she looked about her nervously, “I don’t know the reason, but the + name of Mr. Camber is anathema in Cray’s Folly.” + </p> + <p> + “Colonel Menendez told me last night that he had never met Mr. Camber.” + </p> + <p> + Val Beverley shrugged her shoulders, a habit which it was easy to see she + had acquired from Madame de Stämer. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps not,” she replied, “but I am certain he hates him.” + </p> + <p> + “Hates Mr. Camber?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” Her expression grew troubled. “It is another of those mysteries + which seem to be part of Colonel Menendez’s normal existence.” + </p> + <p> + “And is this dislike mutual?” + </p> + <p> + “That I cannot say, since I have never met Mr. Camber.” + </p> + <p> + “And Madame de Stämer, does she share it?” + </p> + <p> + “Fully, I think. But don’t ask me what it means, because I don’t know.” + </p> + <p> + She dismissed the subject with a light gesture and poured me out a second + cup of coffee. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to leave you now,” she said. “I have to justify my existence + in my own eyes.” + </p> + <p> + “Must you really go?” + </p> + <p> + “I must really.” + </p> + <p> + “Then tell me something before you go.” + </p> + <p> + She gathered up the bunches of roses and looked down at me with a wistful + expression. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, what is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Did you detect those mysterious footsteps again last night?” + </p> + <p> + The look of wistfulness changed to another which I hated to see in her + eyes, an expression of repressed fear. + </p> + <p> + “No,” she replied in a very low voice, “but why do you ask the question?” + </p> + <p> + Doubt of her had been far enough from my mind, but that something in the + tone of my voice had put her on her guard I could see. + </p> + <p> + “I am naturally curious,” I replied, gravely. + </p> + <p> + “No,” she repeated, “I have not heard the sound for some time now. + Perhaps, after all, my fears were imaginary.” + </p> + <p> + There was a constraint in her manner which was all too obvious, and when + presently, laden with the spoil of the rose garden, she gave me a parting + smile and hurried into the house, I sat there very still for a while, and + something of the brightness had faded from the coming, nor did life seem + so glad a business as I had thought it quite recently. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII. AT THE GUEST HOUSE + </h2> + <p> + I presented myself at the Guest House at half-past eleven. My mental state + was troubled and indescribably complex. Perhaps my own uneasy, thoughts + were responsible for the idea, but it seemed to me that the atmosphere of + Cray’s Folly had changed yet again. Never before had I experienced a sense + of foreboding like that which had possessed me throughout the hours of + this bright summer’s morning. + </p> + <p> + Colonel Menendez had appeared about nine o’clock. He exhibiting no traces + of illness that were perceptible to me. But this subtle change which I had + detected, or thought I had detected, was more marked in Madame Stämer than + in any one. In her strange, still eyes I had read what I can only describe + as a stricken look. It had none of the heroic resignation and acceptance + of the inevitable which had so startled me in the face of the Colonel on + the previous day. There was a bitterness in it, as of one who has made a + great but unwilling sacrifice, and again I had found myself questing that + faint but fugitive memory, conjured up by the eyes of Madame de Stämer. + </p> + <p> + Never had the shadow lain so darkly upon the house as it lay this morning + with the sun blazing gladly out of a serene sky. The birds, the flowers, + and Mother Earth herself bespoke the joy of summer. But beneath the roof + of Cray’s Folly dwelt a spirit of unrest, of apprehension. I thought of + that queer lull which comes before a tropical storm, and I thought I read + a knowledge of pending evil even in the glances of the servants. + </p> + <p> + I had spoken to Harley of this fear. He had smiled and nodded grimly, + saying: + </p> + <p> + “Evidently, Knox, you have forgotten that to-night is the night of the + full moon.” + </p> + <p> + It was in no easy state of mind, then, that I opened the gate and walked + up to the porch of the Guest House. That the solution of the grand mystery + of Cray’s Folly would automatically resolve these lesser mysteries I felt + assured, and I was supported by the idea that a clue might lie here. + </p> + <p> + The house, which from the roadway had an air of neglect, proved on close + inspection to be well tended, but of an unprosperous aspect. The brass + knocker, door knob, and letter box were brilliantly polished, whilst the + windows and the window curtains were spotlessly clean. But the place cried + aloud for the service of the decorator, and it did not need the deductive + powers of a Paul Harley to determine that Mr. Colin Camber was in + straitened circumstances. + </p> + <p> + In response to my ringing the door was presently opened by Ah Tsong. His + yellow face exhibited no trace of emotion whatever. He merely opened the + door and stood there looking at me. + </p> + <p> + “Is Mr. Camber at home?” I enquired. + </p> + <p> + “Master no got,” crooned Ah Tsong. + </p> + <p> + He proceeded quietly to close the door again. + </p> + <p> + “One moment,” I said, “one moment. I wish, at any rate, to leave my card.” + </p> + <p> + Ah Tsong allowed the door to remain open, but: + </p> + <p> + “No usee palaber so fashion,” he said. “No feller comee here. Sabby?” + </p> + <p> + “I savvy, right enough,” said I, “but all the same you have got to take my + card in to Mr. Camber.” + </p> + <p> + I handed him a card as I spoke, and suddenly addressing him in “pidgin,” + of which, fortunately, I had a smattering: + </p> + <p> + “Belong very quick, Ah Tsong,” I said, sharply, “or plenty big trouble, + savvy?” + </p> + <p> + “Sabby, sabby,” he muttered, nodding his head; and leaving me standing in + the porch he retired along the sparsely carpeted hall. + </p> + <p> + This hall was very gloomily lighted, but I could see several pieces of + massive old furniture and a number of bookcases, all looking incredibly + untidy. + </p> + <p> + Rather less than a minute elapsed, I suppose, when from some place at the + farther end of the hallway Mr. Camber appeared in person. He wore a + threadbare dressing gown, the silken collar and cuffs of which were very + badly frayed. His hair was dishevelled and palpably he had not shaved this + morning. + </p> + <p> + He was smoking a corncob pipe, and he slowly approached, glancing from the + card which he held in his hand in my direction, and then back again at the + card, with a curious sort of hesitancy. In spite of his untidy appearance + I could not fail to mark the dignity of his bearing, and the almost + arrogant angle at which he held his head. + </p> + <p> + “Mr—er—Malcolm Knox?” he began, fixing his large eyes upon me + with a look in which I could detect no sign of recognition. “I am advised + that you desire to see me?” + </p> + <p> + “That is so, Mr. Camber,” I replied, cheerily. “I fear I have interrupted + your work, but as no other opportunity may occur of renewing an + acquaintance which for my part I found extremely pleasant—” + </p> + <p> + “Of renewing an acquaintance, you say, Mr. Knox?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite.” He looked me up and down critically. “To be sure, we have met + before, I understand?” + </p> + <p> + “We met yesterday, Mr. Camber, you may recall. Having chanced to come + across a contribution of yours of the <i>Occult Review</i>, I have availed + myself of your invitation to drop in for a chat.” + </p> + <p> + His expression changed immediately and the sombre eyes lighted up. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, of course,” he cried, “you are a student of the transcendental. + Forgive my seeming rudeness, Mr. Knox, but indeed my memory is of the + poorest. Pray come in, sir; your visit is very welcome.” + </p> + <p> + He held the door wide open, and inclined his head in a gesture of curious + old-world courtesy which was strange in so young a man. And congratulating + myself upon the happy thought which had enabled me to win such instant + favour, I presently found myself in a study which I despair of describing. + </p> + <p> + In some respects it resembled the lumber room of an antiquary, whilst in + many particulars it corresponded to the interior of one of those + second-hand bookshops which abound in the neighbourhood of Charing Cross + Road. The shelves with which it was lined literally bulged with books, and + there were books on the floor, books on the mantelpiece, and books, some + open and some shut, some handsomely bound, and some having the covers torn + off, upon every table and nearly every chair in the place. + </p> + <p> + Volume seven of Burton’s monumental “Thousand Nights and a Night” lay upon + a littered desk before which I presumed Mr. Camber had been seated at the + time of my arrival. Some wet vessel, probably a cup of tea or coffee, had + at some time been set down upon the page at which this volume was open, + for it was marked with a dark brown ring. A volume of Fraser’s “Golden + Bough” had been used as an ash tray, apparently, since the binding was + burned in several places where cigarettes had been laid upon it. + </p> + <p> + In this interesting, indeed unique apartment, East met West, unabashed by + Kipling’s dictum. Roman tear-vases and Egyptian tomb-offerings stood upon + the same shelf as empty Bass bottles; and a hideous wooden idol from the + South Sea Islands leered on eternally, unmoved by the presence upon his + distorted head of a soft felt hat made, I believe, in Philadelphia. + </p> + <p> + Strange implements from early British barrows found themselves in the + company of <i>Thugee</i> daggers There were carved mammals’ tusks and + snake emblems from Yucatan; against a Chinese ivory model of the Temple of + Ten Thousand Buddhas rested a Coptic crucifix made from a twig of the Holy + Rose Tree. Across an ancient Spanish coffer was thrown a Persian rug into + which had been woven the monogram of Shah-Jehan and a text from the Koran. + It was easy to see that Mr. Colin Camber’s studies must have imposed a + severe strain upon his purse. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down, Mr. Knox, sit down,” he said, sweeping a vellum-bound volume of + Eliphas Levi from a chair, and pushing the chair forward. “The visit of a + fellow-student is a rare pleasure for me. And you find me, sir,” he seated + himself in a curious, carved chair which stood before the desk, “you find + me engaged upon enquiries, the result of which will constitute chapter + forty-two of my present book. Pray glance at the contents of this little + box.” + </p> + <p> + He placed in my hands a small box of dark wood, evidently of great age. It + contained what looked like a number of shrivelled beans. + </p> + <p> + Having glanced at it curiously I returned it to him, shaking my head + blankly. + </p> + <p> + “You are puzzled?” he said, with a kind of boyish triumph, which lighted + up his face, which rejuvenated him and gave me a glimpse of another man. + “These, sir,” he touched the shrivelled objects with a long, delicate + forefinger “are seeds of the sacred lotus of Ancient Egypt. They were + found in the tomb of a priest.” + </p> + <p> + “And in what way do they bear upon the enquiry to which you referred, Mr. + Camber?” + </p> + <p> + “In this way,” he replied, drawing toward him a piece of newspaper upon + which rested a mound of coarse shag. “I maintain that the vital principle + survives within them. Now, I propose to cultivate these seeds, Mr. Knox. + Do you grasp the significance, of this experiment?” + </p> + <p> + He knocked out the corn-cob upon the heel of his slipper and began to + refill the hot bowl with shag from the newspaper at his elbow. + </p> + <p> + “From a physical point of view, yes,” I replied, slowly. “But I should not + have supposed such an experiment to come within the scope of your own + particular activities, Mr. Camber.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” he returned, triumphantly, at the same time stuffing tobacco into + the bowl of the corn-cob, “it is for this very reason that chapter + forty-two of my book must prove to be the hub of the whole, and the whole, + Mr. Knox, I am egotist enough to believe, shall establish a new focus for + thought, an intellectual Rome bestriding and uniting the Seven Hills of + Unbelief.” + </p> + <p> + He lighted his pipe and stared at me complacently. + </p> + <p> + Whilst I had greatly revised my first estimate of the man, my revisions + had been all in his favour. Respecting his genius my first impression was + confirmed. That he was ahead of his generation, perhaps a new Galileo, I + was prepared to believe. He had a pride of bearing which I think was + partly racial, but which in part, too, was the insignia of intellectual + superiority. He stood above the commonplace, caring little for the views + of those around and beneath him. From vanity he was utterly free. His was + strangely like the egotism of true genius. + </p> + <p> + “Now, sir,” he continued, puffing furiously at his corn-cob, “I observed + you glancing a moment ago at this volume of the ‘Golden Bough.’” He + pointed to the scarred book which I have already mentioned. “It is a work + of profound scholarship. But having perused its hundreds of pages, what + has the student learned? Does he know why the twenty-sixth chapter of the + ‘Book of the dead’ was written upon lapis-lazuli, the twenty-seventh upon + green felspar, the twenty-ninth upon cornelian, and the thirtieth upon + serpentine? He does not. Having studied Part Four, has he learned the + secret of why Osiris was a black god, although he typified the Sun? Has he + learned why modern Christianity is losing its hold upon the nations, + whilst Buddhism, so called, counts its disciples by millions? He has not. + This is because the scholar is rarely the seer.” + </p> + <p> + “I quite agree with you,” I said, thinking that I detected the drift of + his argument. + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” said he. “I am an American citizen, Mr. Knox, which is + tantamount to stating that I belong to the greatest community of traders + which has appeared since the Phoenicians overran the then known world. + America has not produced the mystic, yet Judæa produced the founder of + Christianity, and Gautama Buddha, born of a royal line, established the + creed of human equity. In what way did these magicians, for a + miracle-worker is nothing but a magician, differ from ordinary men? In one + respect only: They had learned to control that force which we have to-day + termed Will.” + </p> + <p> + As he spoke those words Colin Camber directed upon me a glance from his + luminous eyes which frankly thrilled me. The bemused figure of the + Lavender Arms was forgotten. I perceived before me a man of power, a man + of extraordinary knowledge and intellectual daring. His voice, which was + very beautiful, together with his glance, held me enthralled. + </p> + <p> + “What we call Will,” he continued, “is what the Ancient Egyptians called + <i>Khu</i>. It is not mental: it is a property of the soul. At this point, + Mr. Knox, I depart from the laws generally accepted by my contemporaries. + I shall presently propose to you that the eye of the Divine Architect + literally watches every creature upon the earth.” + </p> + <p> + “Literally?” + </p> + <p> + “Literally, Mr. Knox. We need no images, no idols, no paintings. All + power, all light comes from one source. That source is the sun! The sun + controls Will, and the Will is the soul. If there were a cavern in the + earth so deep that the sun could never reach it, and if it were possible + for a child to be born in that cavern, do you know what that child would + be?” + </p> + <p> + “Almost certainly blind,” I replied; “beyond which my imagination fails + me.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I will inform you, Mr. Knox. It would be a demon.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” I cried, and was momentarily touched with the fear that this was a + brilliant madman. + </p> + <p> + “Listen,” he said, and pointed with the stem of his pipe. “Why, in all + ancient creeds, is Hades depicted as below? For the simple reason that + could such a spot exist and be inhabited, it must be <i>sunless</i>, when + it could only be inhabited by devils; and what are devils but creatures + without souls?” + </p> + <p> + “You mean that a child born beyond reach of the sun’s influence would have + no soul?” + </p> + <p> + “Such is my meaning, Mr. Knox. Do you begin to see the importance of my + experiment with the lotus seeds?” + </p> + <p> + I shook my head slowly. Whereupon, laying his corn-cob upon the desk, + Colin Camber burst into a fit of boyish laughter, which seemed to + rejuvenate him again, which wiped out the image of the magus completely, + and only left before me a very human student of strange subjects, and + withal a fascinating companion. + </p> + <p> + “I fear, sir,” he said, presently, “that my steps have led me farther into + the wilderness than it has been your fate to penetrate. The whole secret + of the universe is contained in the words Day and Night, Darkness and + Light. I have studied both the light and the darkness, deliberately and + without fear. A new age is about to dawn, sir, and a new age requires new + beliefs, new truths. Were you ever in the country of the Hill Dyaks?” + </p> + <p> + This abrupt question rather startled me, but: + </p> + <p> + “You refer to the Borneo hill-country?” + </p> + <p> + “Precisely.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I was never there.” + </p> + <p> + “Then this little magical implement will be new to you,” said he. + </p> + <p> + Standing up, he crossed to a cabinet littered untidily with all sorts of + strange-looking objects, carved bones, queer little inlaid boxes, images, + untidy manuscripts, and what-not. + </p> + <p> + He took up what looked like a very ungainly tobacco-pipe, made of some + rich brown wood, and, handing it to me: + </p> + <p> + “Examine this, Mr. Knox,” he said, the boyish smile of triumph returning + again to his face. + </p> + <p> + I did as he requested and made no discovery of note. The thing clearly was + not intended for a pipe. The stem was soiled and, moreover, there was + carving inside the bowl. So that presently I returned it to him, shaking + my head. + </p> + <p> + “Unless one should be informed of the properties of this little + instrument,” he declared, “discovery by experiment is improbable. Now, + note.” + </p> + <p> + He struck the hollow of the bowl upon the palm of his hand, and it + delivered a high, bell-like note which lingered curiously. Then: + </p> + <p> + “Note again.” + </p> + <p> + He made a short striking motion with the thing, similar to that which one + would employ who had designed to jerk something out of the bowl. And at + the very spot on the floor where any object contained in the bowl would + have fallen, came a reprise of the bell note! Clearly, from almost at my + feet, it sounded, a high, metallic ring. + </p> + <p> + He struck upward, and the bell-note sounded on the ceiling; to the right, + and it came from the window; in my direction, and the tiny bell seemed to + ring beside my ear! I will honestly admit that I was startled, but: + </p> + <p> + “Dyak magic,” said Colin Camber; “one of nature’s secrets not yet + discovered by conventional Western science. It was known to the Egyptian + priesthood, of course; hence the Vocal Memnon. It was known to Madame + Blavatsky, who employed an ‘astral bell’; and it is known to me.” + </p> + <p> + He returned the little instrument to its place upon the cabinet. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder if the fact will strike you as significant,” said he, “that the + note which you have just heard can only be produced between sunrise and + sunset?” + </p> + <p> + Without giving me time to reply: + </p> + <p> + “The most notable survival of black magic—that is, the scientific + employment of darkness against light—is to be met with in Haiti and + other islands of the West Indies.” + </p> + <p> + “You are referring to Voodooism?” I said, slowly. + </p> + <p> + He nodded, replacing his pipe between his teeth. + </p> + <p> + “A subject, Mr. Knox, which I investigated exhaustively some years ago.” + </p> + <p> + I was watching him closely as he spoke, and a shadow, a strange shadow, + crept over his face, a look almost of exaltation—of mingled sorrow + and gladness which I find myself quite unable to describe. + </p> + <p> + “In the West Indies, Mr. Knox,” he continued, in a strangely altered + voice, “I lost all and found all. Have you ever realized, sir, that sorrow + is the price we must pay for joy?” + </p> + <p> + I did not understand his question, and was still wondering about it when I + heard a gentle knock, the door opened, and a woman came in. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV. YSOLA CAMBER + </h2> + <p> + I find it difficult, now, to recapture my first impression of that + meeting. About the woman, hesitating before me, there was something + unexpected, something wholly unfamiliar. She belonged to a type with which + I was not acquainted. Nor was it wonderful that she should strike me in + this fashion, since my wanderings, although fairly extensive, had never + included the West Indies, nor had I been to Spain; and this girl—I + could have sworn that she was under twenty—was one of those rare + beauties, a golden Spaniard. + </p> + <p> + That she was not purely Spanish I learned later. + </p> + <p> + She was small, and girlishly slight, with slender ankles and exquisite + little feet; indeed I think she had the tiniest feet of any woman I had + ever met. She wore a sort of white pinafore over her dress, and her arms, + which were bare because of the short sleeves of her frock, were of a + child-like roundness, whilst her creamy skin was touched with a faint + tinge of bronze, as though, I remember thinking, it had absorbed and + retained something of the Southern sunshine. She had the swaying carriage + which usually belongs to a tall woman, and her head and neck were Grecian + in poise. + </p> + <p> + Her hair, which was of a curious dull gold colour, presented a mass of + thick, tight curls, and her beauty was of that unusual character which + makes a Cleopatra a subject of deathless debate. What I mean to say is + this: whilst no man could have denied, for instance, that Val Beverley was + a charmingly pretty woman, nine critics out of ten must have failed to + classify this golden Spaniard correctly or justly. Her complexion was + peach-like in the Oriental sense, that strange hint of gold underlying the + delicate skin, and her dark blue eyes were shaded by really wonderful + silken lashes. + </p> + <p> + Emotion had the effect of enlarging the pupils, a phenomenon rarely met + with, so that now as she entered the room and found a stranger present + they seemed to be rather black than blue. + </p> + <p> + Her embarrassment was acute, and I think she would have retired without + speaking, but: + </p> + <p> + “Ysola,” said Colin Camber, regarding her with a look curiously compounded + of sorrow and pride, “allow me to present Mr. Malcolm Knox, who has + honoured us with a visit.” + </p> + <p> + He turned to me. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Knox,” he said, “it gives me great pleasure that you should meet my + wife.” + </p> + <p> + Perhaps I had expected this, indeed, subconsciously, I think I had. + Nevertheless, at the words “my wife” I felt that I started. The analogy + with Edgar Allan Poe was complete. + </p> + <p> + As Mrs. Camber extended her hand with a sort of appealing timidity, it + appeared to me that she felt herself to be intruding. The expression in + her beautiful eyes when she glanced at her husband could only be described + as one of adoration; and whilst it was impossible to doubt his love for + her, I wondered if his colossal egotism were capable of stooping to + affection. I wondered if he knew how to tend and protect this delicate + Southern girl wife of his. + </p> + <p> + Remembering the episode of the Lavender Arms, I felt justified in doubting + her happiness, and in this I saw an explanation of the mingled sorrow and + pride with which Colin Camber regarded her. It might betoken recognition + of his own shortcomings as a husband. + </p> + <p> + “How nice of you to come and see us. Mr. Knox,” she said. + </p> + <p> + She spoke in a faintly husky manner which was curiously attractive, + although lacking the deep, vibrant tones of Madame de Stämer’s memorable + voice. Her English was imperfect, but her accent good. + </p> + <p> + “Your husband has been carrying me to enchanted lands, Mrs. Camber,” I + replied. “I have never known a morning to pass so quickly.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” she replied, and laughed with a childish glee which I was glad to + witness. “Did he tell you all about the book which is going to make the + world good? Did he tell you it will make us rich as well?” + </p> + <p> + “Rich?” said Camber, frowning slightly. “Nature’s riches are health and + love. If we hold these the rest will come. Now that you have joined us, + Ysola, I shall beg Mr. Knox, in honour of this occasion, to drink a glass + of wine and break a biscuit as a pledge of future meetings.” + </p> + <p> + I watched him as he spoke, a lean, unkempt figure invested with a curious + dignity, and I found it almost impossible to believe that this was the + same man who had sat in the bar of the Lavender Arms, sipping whisky and + water. The resemblance to the portrait in Harley’s office became more + marked than ever. There was an air of high breeding about the delicate + features which, curiously enough, was accentuated by the unshaven chin. I + recognized that refusal would be regarded as a rebuff, and therefore: + </p> + <p> + “You are very kind,” I said. + </p> + <p> + Colin Camber inclined his head gravely and courteously. + </p> + <p> + “We are very glad to have you with us, Mr. Knox,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + He clapped his hands, and, silent as a shadow, Ah Tsong appeared. I noted + that although it was Camber who had summoned him, it was to Mrs. Camber + that the Chinaman turned for orders. I had thought his yellow face + incapable of expression, but as his oblique eyes turned in the direction + of the girl I read in them a sort of dumb worship, such as one sees in the + eyes of a dog. + </p> + <p> + She spoke to him rapidly in Chinese. + </p> + <p> + “Hoi, hoi,” he muttered, “hoi, hoi,” nodded his head, and went out. + </p> + <p> + I saw that Colin Camber had detected my interest, for: + </p> + <p> + “Ah Tsong is really my wife’s servant,” he explained. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” she said in a low voice, and looked at me earnestly, “Ah Tsong + nursed me when I was a little baby so high.” She held her hand about four + feet from the floor and laughed gleefully. “Can you imagine what a funny + little thing I was?” + </p> + <p> + “You must have been a wonder-child, Mrs. Camber,” I replied with + sincerity; “and Ah Tsong has remained with you ever since?” + </p> + <p> + “Ever since,” she echoed, shaking her head in a vaguely pathetic way. “He + will never leave me, do you think, Colin?” + </p> + <p> + “Never,” replied her husband; “you are all he loves in the world. A case, + Mr. Knox,” he turned to me, “of deathless fidelity rarely met with + nowadays and only possible, perhaps, in its true form in an Oriental.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Camber having seated herself upon one of the few chairs which was not + piled with books, her husband had resumed his place by the writing desk, + and I sought in vain to interpret the glances which passed between them. + </p> + <p> + The fact that these two were lovers none could have mistaken. But here + again, as at Cray’s Folly, I detected a shadow. I felt that something had + struck at the very root of their happiness, in fact, I wondered if they + had been parted, and were but newly reunited for there was a sort of + constraint between them, the more marked on the woman’s side than on the + man’s. I wondered how long they had been married, but felt that it would + have been indiscreet to ask. + </p> + <p> + Even as the idea occurred to me, however, an opportunity arose of learning + what I wished to know. I heard a bell ring, and: + </p> + <p> + “There is someone at the door, Colin,” said Mrs. Camber. + </p> + <p> + “I will go,” he replied. “Ah Tsong has enough to do.” + </p> + <p> + Without another word he stood up and walked out of the room. + </p> + <p> + “You see,” said Mrs. Camber, smiling in her naive way, “we only have one + servant, except Ah Tsong, her name is Mrs. Powis. She is visiting her + daughter who is married. We made the poor old lady take a holiday.” + </p> + <p> + “It is difficult to imagine you burdened with household responsibilities, + Mrs. Camber,” I replied. “Please forgive me but I cannot help wondering + how long you have been married?” + </p> + <p> + “For nearly four years.” + </p> + <p> + “Really?” I exclaimed. “You must have been married very young?” + </p> + <p> + “I was twenty. Do I look so young?” + </p> + <p> + I gazed at her in amazement. + </p> + <p> + “You astonish me,” I declared, which was quite true and no mere + compliment. “I had guessed your age to be eighteen.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” she laughed, and resting her hands upon the settee leaned forward + with sparkling eyes, “how funny. Sometimes I wish I looked older. It is + dreadful in this place, although we have been so happy here. At all the + shops they look at me so funny, so I always send Mrs. Powis now.” + </p> + <p> + “You are really quite wonderful,” I said. “You are Spanish, are you not, + Mrs. Camber?” + </p> + <p> + She slightly shook her head, and I saw the pupils begin to dilate. + </p> + <p> + “Not really Spanish,” she replied, haltingly. “I was born in Cuba.” + </p> + <p> + “In Cuba?” + </p> + <p> + She nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Then it was in Cuba that you met Mr. Camber?” + </p> + <p> + She nodded again, watching me intently. + </p> + <p> + “It is strange that a Virginian should settle in Surrey.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” she murmured, “you think so? But really it is not strange at all. + Colin’s people are so proud, so proud. Do you know what they are like, + those Virginians? Oh! I hate them.” + </p> + <p> + “You hate them?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I cannot hate them, for he is one. But he will never go back.” + </p> + <p> + “Why should he never go back, Mrs. Camber?” + </p> + <p> + “Because of me.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean that you do not wish to settle in America?” + </p> + <p> + “I could not—not where he comes from. They would not have me.” + </p> + <p> + Her eyes grew misty, and she quickly lowered her lashes. + </p> + <p> + “Would not have you?” I exclaimed. “I don’t understand.” + </p> + <p> + “No?” she said, and smiled up at me very gravely. “It is simple. I am a + Cuban, one, as they say, of an inferior race—and of mixed blood.” + </p> + <p> + She shook her golden head as if to dismiss the subject, and stood up, as + Camber entered, followed by Ah Tsong bearing a tray of refreshments. + </p> + <p> + Of the ensuing conversation I remember nothing. My mind was focussed upon + the one vital fact that Mrs. Camber was a Cuban Creole. Dimly I felt that + here was the missing link for which Paul Harley was groping. For it was in + Cuba that Colin Camber had met his wife, it was from Cuba that the menace + of Bat Wing came. + </p> + <p> + What could it mean? Surely it was more than a coincidence that these two + families, both associated with the West Indies, should reside within sight + of one another in the Surrey Hills. Yet, if it were the result of design, + the design must be on the part of Colonel Menendez, since the Cambers had + occupied the Guest House before he had leased Cray’s Folly. + </p> + <p> + I know not if I betrayed my absentmindedness during the time that I was + struggling vainly with these maddening problems, but presently, Mrs. + Camber having departed about her household duties, I found myself walking + down the garden with her husband. + </p> + <p> + “This is the summer house of which I was speaking, Mr. Knox,” he said, and + I regret to state that I retained no impression of his having previously + mentioned the subject. “During the time that Sir James Appleton resided at + Cray’s Folly, I worked here regularly in the summer months. It was Sir + James, of course, who laid out the greater part of the gardens and who + rescued the property from the state of decay into which it had fallen.” + </p> + <p> + I aroused myself from the profitless reverie in which I had become lost. + We were standing before a sort of arbour which marked the end of the + grounds of the Guest House. It overhung the edge of a miniature ravine, in + which, over a pebbly course, a little stream pursued its way down the + valley to feed the lake in the grounds of Cray’s Folly. + </p> + <p> + From this point of vantage I could see the greater part of Colonel + Menendez’s residence. I had an unobstructed view of the tower and of the + Tudor garden. + </p> + <p> + “I abandoned my work-shop,” pursued Colin Camber, “when the—er—the + new tenant took up his residence. I work now in the room in which you + found me this morning.” + </p> + <p> + He sighed, and turning abruptly, led the way back to the house, holding + himself very erect, and presenting a queer figure in his threadbare + dressing gown. + </p> + <p> + It was now a perfect summer’s day, and I commented upon the beauty of the + old garden, which in places was bordered by a crumbling wall. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, a quaint old spot,” said Camber. “I thought at one time, because of + the name of the house, that it might have been part of a monastery or + convent. This was not the case, however. It derives its name from a + certain Sir Jaspar Guest, who flourished, I believe, under King Charles of + merry memory.” + </p> + <p> + “Nevertheless,” I added, “the Guest House is a charming survival of more + spacious days.” + </p> + <p> + “True,” returned Colin Camber, gravely. “Here it is possible to lead one’s + own life, away from the noisy world,” he sighed again wearily. “Yes, I + shall regret leaving the Guest House.” + </p> + <p> + “What! You are leaving?” + </p> + <p> + “I am leaving as soon as I can find another residence, suited both to my + requirements and to my slender purse. But these domestic affairs can be of + no possible interest to you. I take it, Mr. Knox, that you will grant my + wife and myself the pleasure of your company at lunch?” + </p> + <p> + “Many thanks,” I replied, “but really I must return to Cray’s Folly.” + </p> + <p> + As I spoke the words I had moved a little ahead at a point where the path + was overgrown by a rose bush, for the garden was somewhat neglected. + </p> + <p> + “You will quite understand,” I said, and turned. + </p> + <p> + Never can I forget the spectacle which I beheld. + </p> + <p> + Colin Camber’s peculiarly pale complexion had assumed a truly ghastly + pallor, and he stood with tightly clenched hands, glaring at me almost + insanely. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Camber,” I cried, with concern, “are you unwell?” + </p> + <p> + He moistened his dry lips, and: + </p> + <p> + “You are returning—to Cray’s Folly?” he said, speaking, it seemed, + with difficulty. + </p> + <p> + “I am, sir. I am staying with Colonel Menendez.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” + </p> + <p> + He clutched the collar of his pyjama jacket and wrenched so strongly that + the button was torn off. His passion was incredible, insane. The power of + speech had almost left him. + </p> + <p> + “You are a guest of—of Devil Menendez,” he whispered, and the + speaking of the name seemed almost to choke him. “Of—Devil Menendez. + You—you—are a spy. You have stolen my hospitality—you + have obtained access to my house under false pretences. God! if I had + known!” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Camber,” I said, sternly, and realized that I, too, had clenched my + fists, for the man’s language was grossly insulting, “you forget + yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I do,” he muttered, thickly; “and therefore”—he raised a + quivering forefinger—“go! If you have any spark of compassion in + your breast, go! Leave my house.” + </p> + <p> + Nostrils dilated, he stood with that quivering finger outstretched, and + now having become as speechless as he, I turned and walked rapidly up to + the house. + </p> + <p> + “Ah Tsong! Ah Tsong!” came a cry from behind me in tones which I can only + describe as hysterical—“Mr. Knox’s hat and stick. Quickly.” + </p> + <p> + As I walked in past the study door the Chinaman came to meet me, holding + my hat and cane. I took them from him without a word, and, the door being + held open by Ah Tsong, walked out on to the road. + </p> + <p> + My heart was beating rapidly. I did not know what to think nor what to do. + This ignominious dismissal afforded an experience new to me. I was + humiliated, mortified, but above all, wildly angry. + </p> + <p> + How far I had gone on my homeward journey I cannot say, when the sound of + quickly pattering footsteps intruded upon my wild reverie. I stopped, + turned, and there was Ah Tsong almost at my heels. + </p> + <p> + “Blinga chit flom lilly missee,” he said, and held the note toward me. + </p> + <p> + I hesitated, glaring at him in a way that must have been very unpleasant; + but recovering myself I tore open the envelope, and read the following + note, written in pencil and very shakily: + </p> + <p> + MR. KNOX. Please forgive him. If you knew what we have suffered from Senor + Don Juan Menendez, I know you would forgive him. Please, for my sake. + YSOLA CAMBER. + </p> + <p> + The Chinaman was watching me, that strangely pathetic expression in his + eyes, and: + </p> + <p> + “Tell your mistress that I quite understand and will write to her,” I + said. + </p> + <p> + “Hoi, hoi.” + </p> + <p> + Ah Tsong turned, and ran swiftly off, as I pursued my way back to Cray’s + Folly in a mood which I shall not attempt to describe. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV. UNREST + </h2> + <p> + I sat in Paul Harley’s room. Luncheon was over, and although, as on the + previous day, it had been a perfect repast, perfectly served, the sense of + tension which I had experienced throughout the meal had made me horribly + ill at ease. + </p> + <p> + That shadow of which I have spoken elsewhere seemed to have become almost + palpable. In vain I had ascribed it to a morbid imagination: persistently + it lingered. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Stämer’s gaiety rang more false than ever. She twirled the rings + upon her slender fingers and shot little enquiring glances all around the + table. This spirit of unrest, from wherever it arose, had communicated + itself to everybody. Madame’s several bon mots one and all were failures. + She delivered them without conviction like an amateur repeating lines + learned by heart. The Colonel was unusually silent, eating little but + drinking much. There was something unreal, almost ghastly, about the whole + affair; and when at last Madame de Stämer retired, bearing Val Beverley + with her, I felt certain that the Colonel would make some communication to + us. If ever knowledge of portentous evil were written upon a man’s face it + was written upon his, as he sat there at the head of the table, staring + straightly before him. However: + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen,” he said, “if your enquiries here have led to no result of, + shall I say, a tangible character, at least I feel sure that you must have + realized one thing.” + </p> + <p> + Harley stared at him sternly. + </p> + <p> + “I have realized, Colonel Menendez,” he replied, “that something is + pending.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” murmured the Colonel, and he clutched the edge of the table with his + strong brown hands. + </p> + <p> + “But,” continued my friend, “I have realized something more. You have + asked for my aid, and I am here. Now you have deliberately tied my hands.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean, sir?” asked the other, softly. + </p> + <p> + “I will speak plainly. I mean that you know more about the nature of this + danger than you have ever communicated to me. Allow me to proceed, if you + please, Colonel Menendez. For your delightful hospitality I thank you. As + your guest I could be happy, but as a professional investigator whose + services have been called upon under most unusual circumstances, I cannot + be happy and I do not thank you.” + </p> + <p> + Their glances met. Both were angry, wilful, and self-confident. Following + a few moments of silence: + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps, Mr. Harley,” said the Colonel, “you have something further to + say?” + </p> + <p> + “I have this to say,” was the answer: “I esteem your friendship, but I + fear I must return to town without delay.” + </p> + <p> + The Colonel’s jaws were clenched so tightly that I could see the muscles + protruding. He was fighting an inward battle; then: + </p> + <p> + “What!” he said, “you would desert me?” + </p> + <p> + “I never deserted any man who sought my aid.” + </p> + <p> + “I have sought your aid.” + </p> + <p> + “Then accept it!” cried Harley. “This, or allow me to retire from the + case. You ask me to find an enemy who threatens you, and you withhold + every clue which could aid me in my search.” + </p> + <p> + “What clue have I withheld?” + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley stood up. + </p> + <p> + “It is useless to discuss the matter further, Colonel Menendez,” he said, + coldly. + </p> + <p> + The Colonel rose also, and: + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Harley,” he replied, and his high voice was ill-controlled, “if I + give you my word of honour that I dare not tell you more, and if, having + done so, I beg of you to remain at least another night, can you refuse + me?” + </p> + <p> + Harley stood at the end of the table watching him. + </p> + <p> + “Colonel Menendez,” he said, “this would appear to be a game in which my + handicap rests on the fact that I do not know against whom I am pitted. + Very well. You leave me no alternative but to reply that I will stay.” + </p> + <p> + “I thank you, Mr. Harley. As I fear I am far from well, dare I hope to be + excused if I retire to my room for an hour’s rest?” + </p> + <p> + Harley and I bowed, and the Colonel, returning our salutations, walked + slowly out, his bearing one of grace and dignity. So that memorable + luncheon terminated, and now we found ourselves alone and faced with a + problem which, from whatever point one viewed it, offered no single + opening whereby one might hope to penetrate to the truth. + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley was pacing up and down the room in a state of such nervous + irritability as I never remembered to have witnessed in him before. + </p> + <p> + I had just finished an account of my visit to the Guest House and of the + indignity which had been put upon me, and: + </p> + <p> + “Conundrums! conundrums!” my friend exclaimed. “This quest of Bat Wing is + like the quest of heaven, Knox. A hundred open doors invite us, each one + promising to lead to the light, and if we enter where do they lead?—to + mystification. For instance, Colonel Menendez has broadly hinted that he + looks upon Colin Camber as an enemy. Judging from your reception at the + Guest House to-day, such an enmity, and a deadly enmity, actually exists. + But whereas Camber has resided here for three years, the Colonel is a + newcomer. We are, therefore, offered the spectacle of a trembling victim + seeking the sacrifice. Bah! it is preposterous.” + </p> + <p> + “If you had seen Colin Camber’s face to-day, you might not have thought it + so preposterous.” + </p> + <p> + “But I should, Knox! I should! It is impossible to suppose that Colonel + Menendez was unaware when he leased Cray’s Folly that Camber occupied the + Guest House.” + </p> + <p> + “And Mrs. Camber is a Cuban,” I murmured. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t, Knox!” my friend implored. “This case is driving me mad. I have a + conviction that it is going to prove my Waterloo.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear fellow,” I said, “this mood is new to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Why don’t you advise me to remember Auguste Dupin?” asked Harley, + bitterly. “That great man, preserving his philosophical calm, doubtless by + this time would have pieced together these disjointed clues, and have + produced an elegant pattern ready to be framed and exhibited to the + admiring public.” + </p> + <p> + He dropped down upon the bed, and taking his briar from his pocket, began + to load it in a manner which was almost vicious. I stood watching him and + offered no remark, until, having lighted the pipe, he began to smoke. I + knew that these “Indian moods” were of short duration, and, sure enough, + presently: + </p> + <p> + “God bless us all, Knox,” he said, breaking into an amused smile, “how we + bristle when someone tries to prove that we are not infallible! How human + we are, Knox, but how fortunate that we can laugh at ourselves.” + </p> + <p> + I sighed with relief, for Harley at these times imposed a severe strain + even upon my easy-going disposition. + </p> + <p> + “Let us go down to the billiard room,” he continued. “I will play you a + hundred up. I have arrived at a point where my ideas persistently work in + circles. The best cure is golf; failing golf, billiards.” + </p> + <p> + The billiard room was immediately beneath us, adjoining the last apartment + in the east wing, and there we made our way. Harley played keenly, + deliberately, concentrating upon the game. I was less successful, for I + found myself alternately glancing toward the door and the open window, in + the hope that Val Beverley would join us. I was disappointed, however. We + saw no more of the ladies until tea-time, and if a spirit of constraint + had prevailed throughout luncheon, a veritable demon of unrest presided + upon the terrace during tea. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Stämer made apologies on behalf of the Colonel. He was + prolonging his siesta, but he hoped to join us at dinner. + </p> + <p> + “Is the Colonel’s heart affected?” Harley asked. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Stämer shrugged her shoulders and shook her head, blankly. + </p> + <p> + “It is mysterious, the state of his health,” she replied. “An old trouble, + which began years and years ago in Cuba.” + </p> + <p> + Harley nodded sympathetically, but I could see that he was not satisfied. + Yet, although he might doubt her explanation, he had noted, and so had I, + that Madame de Stämer’s concern was very real. Her slender hands were + strangely unsteady; indeed her condition bordered on one of distraction. + </p> + <p> + Harley concealed his thoughts, whatever they may have been, beneath that + mask of reserve which I knew so well, whilst I endeavoured in vain to draw + Val Beverley into conversation with me. + </p> + <p> + I gathered that Madame de Stämer had been to visit the invalid, and that + she was all anxiety to return was a fact she was wholly unable to conceal. + There was a tired look in her still eyes, as though she had undertaken a + task beyond her powers to perform, and, so unnatural a quartette were we, + that when presently she withdrew I was glad, although she took Val + Beverley with her. + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley resumed his seat, staring at me with unseeing eyes. A sound + reached us through the drawing room which told us that Madame de Stämer’s + chair was being taken upstairs, a task always performed when Madame + desired to visit the upper floors by Manoel and Pedro’s daughter, Nita, + who acted as Madame’s maid. These sounds died away, and I thought how + silent everything had become. Even the birds were still, and presently, my + eye being attracted to a black speck in the sky above, I learned why the + feathered choir was mute. A hawk was hovering loftily overhead. + </p> + <p> + Noting my upward glance, Paul Harley also raised his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” he murmured, “a hawk. All the birds are cowering in their nests. + Nature is a cruel mistress, Knox.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI. RED EVE + </h2> + <p> + Over the remainder of that afternoon I will pass in silence. Indeed, + looking backward now, I cannot recollect that it afforded one incident + worthy of record. But because great things overshadow small, so it may be + that whereas my recollections of quite trivial episodes are sharp enough + up to a point, my memories from this point onward to the horrible and + tragic happening which I have set myself to relate are hazy and + indistinct. I was troubled by the continued absence of Val Beverley. I + thought that she was avoiding me by design, and in Harley’s gloomy + reticence I could find no shadow of comfort. + </p> + <p> + We wandered aimlessly about the grounds, Harley staring up in a vague + fashion at the windows of Cray’s Folly; and presently, when I stopped to + inspect a very perfect rose bush, he left me without a word, and I found + myself alone. + </p> + <p> + Later, as I sauntered toward the Tudor garden, where I had hoped to + encounter Miss Beverley, I heard the clicking of billiard balls; and there + was Harley at the table, practising fancy shots. + </p> + <p> + He glanced up at me as I paused by the open window, stopped to relight his + pipe, and then bent over the table again. + </p> + <p> + “Leave me alone, Knox,” he muttered; “I am not fit for human society.” + </p> + <p> + Understanding his moods as well as I did, I merely laughed and withdrew. + </p> + <p> + I strolled around into the library and inspected scores of books without + forming any definite impression of the contents of any of them. Manoel + came in whilst I was there and I was strongly tempted to send a message to + Miss Beverley, but common sense overcame the inclination. + </p> + <p> + When at last my watch told me that the hour for dressing was arrived, I + heaved a sigh of relief. I cannot say that I was bored, my ill-temper + sprang from a deeper source than this. The mysterious disappearance of the + inmates of Cray’s Folly, and a sort of brooding stillness which lay over + the great house, had utterly oppressed me. + </p> + <p> + As I passed along the terrace I paused to admire the spectacle afforded by + the setting sun. The horizon was on fire from north to south and the + countryside was stained with that mystic radiance which is sometimes + called the Blood of Apollo. Turning, I saw the disk of the moon coldly + rising in the heavens. I thought of the silent birds and the hovering + hawk, and I began my preparations for dinner mechanically, dressing as an + automaton might dress. + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley’s personality was never more marked than in his evil moods. + His power to fascinate was only equalled by his power to repel. Thus, + although there was a light in his room and I could hear Lim moving about, + I did not join him when I had finished dressing, but lighting a cigarette + walked downstairs. + </p> + <p> + The beauty of the night called to me, although as I stepped out upon the + terrace I realized with a sort of shock that the gathering dusk held a + menace, so that I found myself questioning the shadows and doubting the + rustle of every leaf. Something invisible, intangible yet potent, brooded + over Cray’s Folly. I began to think more kindly of the disappearance of + Val Beverley during the afternoon. Doubtless she, too, had been touched by + this spirit of unrest and in solitude had sought to dispel it. + </p> + <p> + So thinking. I walked on in the direction of the Tudor garden. The place + was bathed in a sort of purple half-light, lending it a fairy air of + unreality, as though banished sun and rising moon yet disputed for mastery + over earth. This idea set me thinking of Colin Camber, of Osiris, whom he + had described as a black god, and of Isis, whose silver disk now held + undisputed sovereignty of the evening sky. + </p> + <p> + Resentment of the treatment which I had received at the Guest House still + burned hotly within me, but the mystery of it all had taken the keen edge + off my wrath, and I think a sort of melancholy was the keynote of my + reflections as, descending the steps to the sunken garden, I saw Val + Beverley, in a delicate blue gown, coming toward me. She was the spirit of + my dreams, and the embodiment of my mood. When she lowered her eyes at my + approach, I knew by virtue of a sort of inspiration that she had been + avoiding me. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Beverley,” I said, “I have been looking for you all the afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you? I have been in my room writing letters.” + </p> + <p> + I paced slowly along beside her. + </p> + <p> + “I wish you would be very frank with me,” I said. + </p> + <p> + She glanced up swiftly, and as swiftly lowered her lashes again. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think I am not frank?” + </p> + <p> + “I do think so. I understand why.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you really understand?” + </p> + <p> + “I think I do. Your woman’s intuition has told you that there is something + wrong.” + </p> + <p> + “In what way?” + </p> + <p> + “You are afraid of your thoughts. You can see that Madame de Stämer and + Colonel Menendez are deliberately concealing something from Paul Harley, + and you don’t know where your duty lies. Am I right?” + </p> + <p> + She met my glance for a moment in a startled way, then: “Yes,” she said, + softly; “you are quite right. How have you guessed?” + </p> + <p> + “I have tried very hard to understand you,” I replied, “and so perhaps up + to a point I have succeeded.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Mr. Knox.” She suddenly laid her hand upon my arm. “I am oppressed + with such a dreadful foreboding, yet I don’t know how to explain it to + you.” + </p> + <p> + “I understand. I, too, have felt it.” + </p> + <p> + “You have?” She paused, and looked at me eagerly. “Then it is not just + morbid imagination on my part. If only I knew what to do, what to believe. + Really, I am bewildered. I have just left Madame de Stämer—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” I said, for she had paused in evident doubt. + </p> + <p> + “Well, she has utterly broken down.” + </p> + <p> + “Broken down?” + </p> + <p> + “She came to my room and sobbed hysterically for nearly an hour this + afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + “But what was the cause of her grief?” + </p> + <p> + “I simply cannot understand.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it possible that Colonel Menendez is dangerously ill?” + </p> + <p> + “It may be so, Mr. Knox, but in that event why have they not sent for a + physician?” + </p> + <p> + “True,” I murmured; “and no one has been sent for?” + </p> + <p> + “No one.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you seen Colonel Menendez?” + </p> + <p> + “Not since lunch-time.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you ever known him to suffer in this way before?” + </p> + <p> + “Never. It is utterly unaccountable. Certainly during the last few months + he has given up riding practically altogether, and in other ways has + changed his former habits, but I have never known him to exhibit traces of + any real illness.” + </p> + <p> + “Has any medical man attended him?” + </p> + <p> + “Not that I know of. Oh, there is something uncanny about it all. Whatever + should I do if you were not here?” + </p> + <p> + She had spoken on impulse, and seeing her swift embarrassment: + </p> + <p> + “Miss Beverley,” I said, “I am delighted to know that my company cheers + you.” + </p> + <p> + Truth to tell my heart was beating rapidly, and, so selfish is the nature + of man, I was more glad to learn that my company was acceptable to Val + Beverley than I should have been to have had the riddle of Cray’s Folly + laid bare before me. + </p> + <p> + Those sweetly indiscreet words, however, had raised a momentary barrier + between us, and we walked on silently to the house, and entered the + brightly lighted hall. + </p> + <p> + The silver peal of a Chinese tubular gong rang out just when we reached + the veranda, and as Val Beverley and I walked in from the garden, Madame + de Stämer came wheeling through the doorway, closely followed by Paul + Harley. In her the art of the toilette amounted almost to genius, and she + had so successfully concealed all traces of her recent grief that I + wondered if this could have been real. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Mr. Knox,” she cried, “I seem to be fated always to apologize for + other people. The Colonel is truly desolate, but he cannot join us for + dinner. I have already explained to Mr. Harley.” + </p> + <p> + Harley inclined his head sympathetically, and assisted to arrange Madame + in her place. + </p> + <p> + “The Colonel requests us to smoke a cigar with him after dinner, Knox,” he + said, glancing across to me. “It would seem that troubles never come + singly.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” Madame shrugged her shoulders, which her low gown left daringly + bare, “they come in flocks, or not at all. But I suppose we should feel + lonely in the world without a few little sorrows, eh, Mr. Harley?” + </p> + <p> + I loved her unquenchable spirit, and I have wondered often enough what I + should have thought of her if I had known the truth. France has bred some + wonderful women, both good and bad, but none I think more wonderful than + Marie de Stämer. + </p> + <p> + If such a thing were possible, we dined more extravagantly than on the + previous night. Madame’s wit was at its keenest; she was truly brilliant. + Pedro, from the big bouffet at the end of the room, supervised this feast + of Lucullus, and except for odd moments of silence in which Madame seemed + to be listening for some distant sound, there was nothing, I think, which + could have told a casual observer that a black cloud rested upon the + house. + </p> + <p> + Once, interrupting a tête-à-tête between Val Beverley and Paul Harley: + </p> + <p> + “Do not encourage her, Mr. Harley,” said Madame, “she is a desperate + flirt.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Madame,” cried Val Beverley and blushed deeply. + </p> + <p> + “You know you are, my dear, and you are very wise. Flirt all your life, + but never fall in love. It is fatal, don’t you think so, Mr. Knox?”—turning + to me in her rapid manner. + </p> + <p> + I looked into her still eyes, which concealed so much. + </p> + <p> + “Say, rather, that it is Fate,” I murmured. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that is more pretty, but not so true. If I could live my life again, + M. Knox,” she said, for she sometimes used the French and sometimes the + English mode of address, “I should build a stone wall around my heart. It + could peep over, but no one could ever reach it.” + </p> + <p> + Oddly enough, then, as it seems to me now, the spirit of unrest seemed + almost to depart for awhile, and in the company of the vivacious + Frenchwoman time passed very quickly up to the moment when Harley and I + walked slowly upstairs to join the Colonel. + </p> + <p> + During the latter part of dinner an idea had presented itself to me which + I was anxious to mention to Harley, and: + </p> + <p> + “Harley,” I said, “an explanation of the Colonel’s absence has occurred to + me.” + </p> + <p> + “Really!” he replied; “possibly the same one that has occurred to me.” + </p> + <p> + “What is that?” + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley paused on the stairs, turning to me. + </p> + <p> + “You are thinking that he has taken cover from the danger which he + believes particularly to threaten him to-night?” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly.” + </p> + <p> + “You may be right,” he murmured, proceeding upstairs. + </p> + <p> + He led the way to a little smoke-room which hitherto I had never visited, + and in response to his knock: + </p> + <p> + “Come in,” cried the high voice of Colonel Menendez. + </p> + <p> + We entered to find ourselves in a small and very cosy room. There was a + handsome oak bureau against one wall, which was littered with papers of + various kinds, and there was also a large bookcase occupied almost + exclusively by French novels. It occurred to me that the Colonel spent a + greater part of his time in this little snuggery than in the more formal + study below. At the moment of our arrival he was stretched upon a settee + near which stood a little table; and on this table I observed the remains + of what appeared to me to have been a fairly substantial repast. For some + reason which I did not pause to analyze at the moment I noted with + disfavour the presence of a bowl of roses upon the silver tray. + </p> + <p> + Colonel Menendez was smoking a cigarette, and Manoel was in the act of + removing the tray. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen,” said the Colonel, “I have no words in which to express my + sorrow. Manoel, pull up those armchairs. Help yourself to port, Mr. + Harley, and fill Mr. Knox’s glass. I can recommend the cigars in the long + box.” + </p> + <p> + As we seated ourselves: + </p> + <p> + “I am extremely sorry to find you indisposed, sir,” said Harley. + </p> + <p> + He was watching the dark face keenly, and probably thinking, as I was + thinking, that it exhibited no trace of illness. + </p> + <p> + Colonel Menendez waved his cigarette gracefully, settling himself amid the + cushions. + </p> + <p> + “An old trouble, Mr. Harley,” he replied, lightly; “a legacy from + ancestors who drank too deep of the wine of life.” + </p> + <p> + “You are surely taking medical advice?” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Menendez shrugged slightly. + </p> + <p> + “There is no doctor in England who would understand the case,” he replied. + “Besides, there is nothing for it but rest and avoidance of excitement.” + </p> + <p> + “In that event, Colonel,” said Harley, “we will not disturb you for long. + Indeed, I should not have consented to disturb you at all, if I had not + thought that you might have some request to make upon this important + night.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” Colonel Menendez shot a swift glance in his direction. “You have + remembered about to-night?” + </p> + <p> + “Naturally.” + </p> + <p> + “Your interest comforts me very greatly, gentlemen, and I am only sorry + that my uncertain health has made me so poor a host. Nothing has occurred + since your arrival to help you, I am aware. Not that I am anxious for any + new activity on the part of my enemies. But almost anything which should + end this deathly suspense would be welcome.” + </p> + <p> + He spoke the final words with a peculiar intonation. I saw Harley watching + him closely. + </p> + <p> + “However,” he continued, “everything is in the hands of Fate, and if your + visit should prove futile, I can only apologize for having interrupted + your original plans. Respecting to-night”—he shrugged—“what + can I say?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing has occurred,” asked Harley, slowly, “nothing fresh, I mean, to + indicate that the danger which you apprehend may really culminate + to-night?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing fresh, Mr. Harley, unless you yourself have observed anything.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” murmured Paul Harley, “let us hope that the threat will never be + fulfilled.” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Menendez inclined his head gravely. + </p> + <p> + “Let us hope so,” he said. + </p> + <p> + On the whole, he was curiously subdued. He was most solicitous for our + comfort and his exquisite courtesy had never been more marked. I often + think of him now—his big but graceful figure reclining upon the + settee, whilst he skilfully rolled his eternal cigarettes and chatted in + that peculiar, light voice. Before the memory of Colonel Don Juan + Sarmiento Menendez I sometimes stand appalled. If his Maker had but + endowed him with other qualities of mind and heart equal to his + magnificent courage, then truly he had been a great man. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII. NIGHT OF THE FULL MOON + </h2> + <p> + I stood at Harley’s open window—looking down in the Tudor garden. + The moon, like a silver mirror, hung in a cloudless sky. Over an hour had + elapsed since I had heard Pedro making his nightly rounds. Nothing + whatever of an unusual nature had occurred, and although Harley and I had + listened for any sound of nocturnal footsteps, our vigilance had passed + unrewarded. Harley, unrolling the Chinese ladder, had set out upon a + secret tour of the grounds, warning me that it must be a long business, + since the brilliance of the moonlight rendered it necessary that he should + make a wide detour, in order to avoid possible observation from the + windows. I had wished to join him, but: + </p> + <p> + “I count it most important that one of us should remain in the house,” he + had replied. + </p> + <p> + As a result, here was I at the open window, questioning the shadows to + right and left of me, and every moment expecting to see Harley reappear. I + wondered what discoveries he would make. It would not have surprised me to + learn that there were lights in many windows of Cray’s Folly to-night. + </p> + <p> + Although, when we had rejoined the ladies for half an hour, after leaving + Colonel Menendez’s room, there had been no overt reference to the menace + overhanging the house, yet, as we separated for the night, I had detected + again in Val Beverley’s eyes that look of repressed fear. Indeed, she was + palpably disinclined to retire, but was carried off by the masterful + Madame, who declared that she looked tired. + </p> + <p> + I wondered now, as I gazed down into the moon-bathed gardens, if Harley + and I were the only wakeful members of the household at that hour. I + should have been prepared to wager that there were others. I thought of + the strange footsteps which so often passed Miss Beverley’s room, and I + discovered this thought to be an uncomfortable one. + </p> + <p> + Normally, I was sceptical enough, but on this night of the full moon as I + stood there at the window, the horrors which Colonel Menendez had related + to us grew very real in my eyes, and I thought that the mysteries of + Voodoo might conceal strange and ghastly truths, “The scientific + employment of darkness against light.” Colin Camber’s words leapt unbidden + to my mind; and, such is the magic of moonlight, they became invested with + a new and a deeper significance. Strange, that theories which one rejects + whilst the sun is shining should assume a spectral shape in the light of + the moon. + </p> + <p> + Such were my musings, when suddenly I heard a faint sound as of footsteps + crunching upon gravel. I leaned farther out of the window, listening + intently. I could not believe that Harley would be guilty of such an + indiscretion as this, yet who else could be walking upon the path below? + </p> + <p> + As I watched, craning from the window, a tall figure appeared, and, slowly + crossing the gravel path, descended the moss-grown steps to the Tudor + garden. + </p> + <p> + It was Colonel Menendez! + </p> + <p> + He was bare-headed, but fully dressed as I had seen him in the + smoking-room; and not yet grasping the portent of his appearance at that + hour, but merely wondering why he had not yet retired, I continued to + watch him. As I did so, something in his gait, something unnatural in his + movements, caught hold of my mind with a sudden great conviction. He had + reached the path which led to the sun-dial, and with short, queer, ataxic + steps was proceeding in its direction, a striking figure in the brilliant + moonlight which touched his gray hair with a silvery sheen. + </p> + <p> + His unnatural, automatic movements told their own story. He was walking in + his sleep! Could it be in obedience to the call of M’kombo? + </p> + <p> + My throat grew dry and I knew not how to act. Unwillingly it seemed, with + ever-halting steps, the figure moved onward. I could see that his fists + were tightly clenched and that he held his head rigidly upright. All + horrors, real and imaginary, which I had ever experienced, culminated in + the moment when I saw this man of inflexible character, I could have sworn + of indomitable will, moving like a puppet under the influence of some + unnameable force. + </p> + <p> + He was almost come to the sun-dial when I determined to cry out. Then, + remembering the shock experienced by a suddenly awakened somnambulist, and + remembering that the Chinese ladder hung from the window at my feet, I + changed my mind. Checking the cry upon my lips, I got astride of the + window ledge, and began to grope for the bamboo rungs beneath me. I had + found the first of these, and, turning, had begun to descend, when: + </p> + <p> + “Knox! Knox!” came softly from the opening in the box hedge, “what the + devil are you about?” + </p> + <p> + It was Paul Harley returned from his tour of the building. + </p> + <p> + “Harley!” I whispered, descending, “quick! the Colonel has just gone into + the Tudor garden!” + </p> + <p> + “What!” There was a note of absolute horror in the exclamation. “You + should have stopped him, Knox, you should have stopped him!” cried Harley, + and with that he ran off in the same direction. + </p> + <p> + Disentangling my foot from the rungs of the ladder which lay upon the + ground, I was about to follow, when it happened—that strange and + ghastly thing toward which, secretly, darkly, events had been tending. + </p> + <p> + The crack of a rifle sounded sharply in the stillness, echoing and + re-echoing from wing to wing of Cray’s Folly and then, more dimly, up the + wooded slopes beyond! Somewhere ahead of me I heard Harley cry out: + </p> + <p> + “My God, I am too late! They have got him!” + </p> + <p> + Then, hotfoot, I was making for the entrance to the garden. Just as I came + to it and raced down the steps I heard another sound the memory of which + haunts me to this day. + </p> + <p> + Where it came from I had no idea. Perhaps I was too confused to judge + accurately. It might have come from the house, or from the slopes beyond + the house, But it was a sort of shrill, choking laugh, and it set the + ultimate touch of horror upon a <i>scène macabre</i> which, even as I + write of it, seems unreal to me. + </p> + <p> + I ran up the path to where Harley was kneeling beside the sun-dial. + Analysis of my emotions at this moment were futile; I can only say that I + had come to a state of stupefaction. Face downward on the grass, arms + outstretched and fists clenched, lay Colonel Menendez. I think I saw him + move convulsively, but as I gained his side Harley looked up at me, and + beneath the tan which he never lost his face had grown pale. He spoke + through clenched teeth. + </p> + <p> + “Merciful God,” he said, “he is shot through the head.” + </p> + <p> + One glance I gave at the ghastly wound in the base of the Colonel’s skull, + and then swayed backward in a sort of nausea. To see a man die in the heat + of battle, a man one has known and called friend, is strange and terrible. + Here in this moon-bathed Tudor garden it was a horror almost beyond my + powers to endure. + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley, without touching the prone figure, stood up. Indeed no + examination of the victim was necessary. A rifle bullet had pierced his + brain, and he lay there dead with his head toward the hills. + </p> + <p> + I clutched at Harley’s shoulder, but he stood rigidly, staring up the + slope past the angle of the tower, to where a gable of the Guest House + jutted out from the trees. + </p> + <p> + “Did you hear—that cry?” I whispered, “immediately after the shot?” + </p> + <p> + “I heard it.” + </p> + <p> + A moment longer he stood fixedly watching, and then: + </p> + <p> + “Not a wisp of smoke,” he said. “You note the direction in which he was + facing when he fell?” + </p> + <p> + He spoke in a stern and unnatural voice. + </p> + <p> + “I do. He must have turned half right when he came to the sun-dial.” + </p> + <p> + “Where were you when the shot was fired?” + </p> + <p> + “Running in this direction.” + </p> + <p> + “You saw no flash?” + </p> + <p> + “None.” + </p> + <p> + “Neither did I,” groaned Harley; “neither did I. And short of throwing a + cordon round the hills what can be done? How can I move?” + </p> + <p> + He had somewhat relaxed, but now as I continued to clutch his arm, I felt + the muscles grow rigid again. + </p> + <p> + “Look, Knox!” he whispered—“look!” + </p> + <p> + I followed the direction of his fixed stare, and through the trees on the + hillside a dim light shone out. Someone had lighted a lamp in the Guest + House. + </p> + <p> + A faint, sibilant sound drew my glance upward, and there overhead a bat + circled—circled—dipped—and flew off toward the distant + woods. So still was the night that I could distinguish the babble of the + little stream which ran down into the lake. Then, suddenly, came a loud + flapping of wings. The swans had been awakened by the sound of the shot. + Others had been awakened, too, for now distant voices became audible, and + then a muffled scream from somewhere within Cray’s Folly. + </p> + <p> + “Back to the house, Knox,” said Harley, hoarsely. “For God’s sake keep the + women away. Get Pedro, and send Manoel for the nearest doctor. It’s + useless but usual. Let no one deface his footprints. My worst + anticipations have come true. The local police must be informed.” + </p> + <p> + Throughout the time that he spoke he continued to search the moon-bathed + landscape with feverish eagerness, but except for a faint movement of + birds in the trees, for they, like the swans on the lake, had been alarmed + by the shot, nothing stirred. + </p> + <p> + “It came from the hillside,” he muttered. “Off you go, Knox.” + </p> + <p> + And even as I started on my unpleasant errand, he had set out running + toward the gate in the southern corner of the garden. + </p> + <p> + For my part I scrambled unceremoniously up the bank, and emerged where the + yews stood sentinel beside the path. I ran through the gap in the box + hedge just as the main doors were thrown open by Pedro. + </p> + <p> + He started back as he saw me. + </p> + <p> + “Pedro! Pedro!” I cried, “have the ladies been awakened?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes! there is terrible trouble, sir. What has happened? What has + happened?” + </p> + <p> + “A tragedy,” I said, shortly. “Pull yourself together. Where is Madame de + Stämer?” + </p> + <p> + Pedro uttered some exclamation in Spanish and stood, pale-faced, swaying + before me, a dishevelled figure in a dressing gown. And now in the + background Mrs. Fisher appeared. One frightened glance she cast in my + direction, and would have hurried across the hall but I intercepted her. + </p> + <p> + “Where are you going, Mrs. Fisher?” I demanded. “What has happened here?” + </p> + <p> + “To Madame, to Madame,” she sobbed, pointing toward the corridor which + communicated with Madame de Stämer’s bedchamber. + </p> + <p> + I heard a frightened cry proceeding from that direction, and recognized + the voice of Nita, the girl who acted as Madame’s maid. Then I heard Val + Beverley. + </p> + <p> + “Go and fetch Mrs. Fisher, Nita, at once—and try to behave yourself. + I have trouble enough.” + </p> + <p> + I entered the corridor and pulled up short. Val Beverley, fully dressed, + was kneeling beside Madame de Stämer, who wore a kimono over her + night-robe, and who lay huddled on the floor immediately outside the door + of her room! + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Mr. Knox!” cried the girl, pitifully, and raised frightened eyes to + me. “For God’s sake, what has happened?” + </p> + <p> + Nita, the Spanish girl, who was sobbing hysterically, ran along to join + Mrs. Fisher. + </p> + <p> + “I will tell you in a moment,” I said, quietly, rendered cool, as one + always is, by the need of others. “But first tell me—how did Madame + de Stämer get here?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know, I don’t know! I was startled by the shot. It has awakened + everybody. And just as I opened my door to listen, I heard Madame cry out + in the hall below. I ran down, turned on the light, and found her lying + here. She, too, had been awakened, I suppose, and was endeavouring to drag + herself from her room when her strength failed her and she swooned. She is + too heavy for me to lift,” added the girl, pathetically, “and Pedro is out + of his senses, and Nita, who was the first of the servants to come, is + simply hysterical, as you can see.” + </p> + <p> + I nodded reassuringly, and stooping, lifted the swooning woman. She was + much heavier than I should have supposed, but, Val Beverley leading the + way, I carried her into her apartment and placed her upon the bed. + </p> + <p> + “I will leave her to you,” I said. “You have courage, and so I will tell + you what has happened.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, tell me, oh, tell me!” + </p> + <p> + She laid her hands upon my shoulders appealingly, and looked up into my + eyes in a way that made me long to take her in my arms and comfort her, an + insane longing which I only crushed with difficulty. + </p> + <p> + “Someone has shot Colonel Menendez,” I said, in a low voice, for Mrs. + Fisher had just entered. + </p> + <p> + “You mean—” + </p> + <p> + I nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” + </p> + <p> + Val Beverley opened and closed her eyes, clutching at me dizzily for a + moment, then: + </p> + <p> + “I think,” she whispered, “she must have known, and that was why she + swooned. Oh, my God! how horrible.” + </p> + <p> + I made her sit down in an armchair, and watched her anxiously, but + although every speck of colour had faded from her cheeks, she was + splendidly courageous, and almost immediately she smiled up at me, very + wanly, but confidently. + </p> + <p> + “I will look after her,” she said. “Mr. Harley will need your assistance.” + </p> + <p> + When I returned to the hall I found it already filled with a number of + servants incongruously attired. Carter the chauffeur, who lived at the + lodge, was just coming in at the door, and: + </p> + <p> + “Carter,” I said, “get a car out quickly, and bring the nearest doctor. If + there is another man who can drive, send him for the police. Your master + has been shot.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII. INSPECTOR AYLESBURY OF MARKET HILTON + </h2> + <p> + “Now, gentlemen,” said Inspector Aylesbury, “I will take evidence.” + </p> + <p> + Dawn was creeping grayly over the hills, and the view from the library + windows resembled a study by Bastien-Lepage. The lamps burned yellowly, + and the exotic appointments of the library viewed in that cold light for + some reason reminded me of a stage set seen in daylight. The Velasquez + portrait mentally translated me to the billiard room where something lay + upon the settee with a white sheet drawn over it; and I wondered if my own + face looked as wan and comfortless as did the faces of my companions, that + is, of two of them, for I must except Inspector Aylesbury. + </p> + <p> + Squarely before the oaken mantel he stood, a large, pompous man, but in + this hour I could find no humour in Paul Harley’s description of him as + resembling a walrus. He had a large auburn moustache tinged with gray, and + prominent brown eyes, but the lower part of his face, which terminated in + a big double chin, was ill-balanced by his small forehead. He was bulkily + built, and I had conceived an unreasonable distaste for his puffy hands. + His official air and oratorical manner were provoking. + </p> + <p> + Harley sat in the chair which he had occupied during our last interview + with Colonel Menendez in the library, and I had realized—a + realization which had made me uncomfortable—that I was seated upon + the couch on which the Colonel had reclined. Only one other was present, + Dr. Rolleston of Mid-Hatton, a slight, fair man with a brisk, military + manner, acquired perhaps during six years of war service. He was standing + beside me smoking a cigarette. + </p> + <p> + “I have taken all the necessary particulars concerning the position of the + body,” continued the Inspector, “the nature of the wound, contents of + pockets, etc., and I now turn to you, Mr. Harley, as the first person to + discover the murdered man.” + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley lay back in the armchair watching the speaker. + </p> + <p> + “Before we come to what happened here to-night I should like to be quite + clear about your own position in the matter, Mr. Harley. Now”—Inspector + Aylesbury raised one finger in forensic manner—“now, you visited me + yesterday afternoon, Mr. Harley, and asked for certain information + regarding the neighbourhood.” + </p> + <p> + “I did,” said Harley, shortly. + </p> + <p> + “The questions which you asked me were,” continued the Inspector, slowly + and impressively, “did I know of any negro or coloured people living in, + or about, Mid-Hatton, and could I give you a list of the residents within + a two-mile radius of Cray’s Folly. I gave you the information which you + required, and now it is your turn to give me some. Why did you ask those + questions?” + </p> + <p> + “For this reason,” was the reply—“I had been requested by Colonel + Menendez to visit Cray’s Folly, accompanied by my friend, Mr. Knox, in + order that I might investigate certain occurrences which had taken place + here.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said the Inspector, raising his eyebrows, “I see. You were here to + make investigations?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “And these occurrences, will you tell me what they were?” + </p> + <p> + “Simple enough in themselves,” replied Harley. “Someone broke into the + house one night.” + </p> + <p> + “Broke into the house?” + </p> + <p> + “Undoubtedly.” + </p> + <p> + “But this was never reported to us.” + </p> + <p> + “Possibly not, but someone broke in, nevertheless. Secondly, Colonel + Menendez had detected someone lurking about the lawns, and thirdly, the + wing of a bat was nailed to the main door.” + </p> + <p> + Inspector Aylesbury lowered his eyebrows and concentrated a frowning + glance upon the speaker. + </p> + <p> + “Of course, sir,” he said, “I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but you + are not by any chance trying to be funny at a time like this?” + </p> + <p> + “My sense of humour has failed me entirely,” replied Harley. “I am merely + stating bald facts in reply to your questions.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I see.” + </p> + <p> + The Inspector cleared his throat. + </p> + <p> + “Someone broke into Cray’s Folly, then, a fact which was not reported to + me, a suspicious loiterer was seen in the grounds, again not reported, and + someone played a silly practical joke by nailing the wing of a bat, you + say, to the door. Might I ask, Mr. Harley, why you mention this matter? + The other things are serious, but why you should mention the trick of some + mischievous boy at a time like this I can’t imagine.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Harley, wearily, “it does sound absurd, Inspector; I quite + appreciate the fact. But, you see, Colonel Menendez regarded it as the + most significant episode of them all.” + </p> + <p> + “What! The bat wing nailed on the door?” + </p> + <p> + “The bat wing, decidedly. He believed it to be the token of a negro secret + society which had determined upon his death, hence my enquiries regarding + coloured men in the neighbourhood. Do you understand, Inspector?” + </p> + <p> + Inspector Aylesbury took a large handkerchief from his pocket and blew his + nose. Replacing the handkerchief he cleared his throat, and: + </p> + <p> + “Am I to understand,” he enquired, “that the late Colonel Menendez had + expected to be attacked?” + </p> + <p> + “You may understand that,” replied Harley. “It explains my presence in the + house.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said the Inspector, “I see. It looks as though he might have done + better if he had applied to me.” + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley glanced across in my direction and smiled grimly. + </p> + <p> + “As I had predicted, Knox,” he murmured, “my Waterloo.” + </p> + <p> + “What’s that you say about Waterloo, Mr. Harley?” demanded the Inspector. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing germane to the case,” replied Harley. “It was a reference to a + battle, not to a railway station.” + </p> + <p> + Inspector Aylesbury stared at him dully. + </p> + <p> + “You quite understand that you are giving evidence?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “It were impossible not to appreciate the fact.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, then. The late Colonel Menendez thought he was in danger from + negroes. Why did he think that?” + </p> + <p> + “He was a retired West Indian planter,” replied Harley, patiently, “and he + was under the impression that he had offended a powerful native society, + and that for many years their vengeance had pursued him. Attempts to + assassinate him had already taken place in Cuba and in the United States.” + </p> + <p> + “What sort of attempts?” + </p> + <p> + “He was shot at, several times, and once, in Washington, was attacked by a + man with a knife. He maintained in my presence and in the presence of my + friend, Mr. Knox, here, that these various attempts were due to members of + a sect or religion known as Voodoo.” + </p> + <p> + “Voodoo?” + </p> + <p> + “Voodoo, Inspector, also known as Obeah, a cult which has spread from the + West Coast of Africa throughout the West Indies and to parts of the United + States. The bat wing is said to be a sign used by these people.” + </p> + <p> + Inspector Aylesbury scratched his chin. + </p> + <p> + “Now let me get this thing clear,” said he: “Colonel Menendez believed + that people called Voodoos wanted to kill him? Before we go any farther, + why?” + </p> + <p> + “Twenty years ago in the West Indies he had shot an important member of + this sect.” + </p> + <p> + “Twenty years ago?” + </p> + <p> + “According to a statement which he made to me, yes.” + </p> + <p> + “I see. Then for twenty years these Voodoos have been trying to kill him? + Then he comes and settles here in Surrey and someone nails a bat wing to + his door? Did you see this bat wing?” + </p> + <p> + “I did. I have it upstairs in my bag if you would care to examine it.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said the Inspector, “I see. And thinking he had been followed to + England he came to you to see if you could save him?” + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley nodded grimly. + </p> + <p> + “Why did he go to you in preference to the local police, the proper + authorities?” demanded the Inspector. + </p> + <p> + “He was advised to do so by the Spanish ambassador, or so he informed me.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that so? Well, I suppose it had to be. Coming from foreign parts. I + expect he didn’t know what our police are for.” He cleared his throat. + “Very well, I understand now what you were doing here, Mr. Harley. The + next thing is, what were you doing tonight, as I see that both you and Mr. + Knox are still in evening dress?” + </p> + <p> + “We were keeping watch,” I replied. + </p> + <p> + Inspector Aylesbury turned to me ponderously, raising a fat hand. “One + moment, Mr. Knox, one moment,” he protested. “The evidence of one witness + at a time.” + </p> + <p> + “We were keeping watch,” said Harley, deliberately echoing my words. + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “More or less we were here for that purpose. You see, on the night of the + full moon, according to Colonel Menendez, Obeah people become particularly + active.” + </p> + <p> + “Why on the night of the full moon?” + </p> + <p> + “This I cannot tell you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I see. You were keeping watch. Where were you keeping watch?” + </p> + <p> + “In my room.” + </p> + <p> + “In which part of the house is your room?” + </p> + <p> + “Northeast. It overlooks the Tudor garden.” + </p> + <p> + “At what time did you retire?” + </p> + <p> + “About half-past ten.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you leave the Colonel well?” + </p> + <p> + “No, he had been unwell all day. He had remained in his room.” + </p> + <p> + “Had he asked you to sit up?” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all; our vigil was quite voluntary.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, then, you were in your room when the shot was fired?” + </p> + <p> + “On the contrary, I was on the path in front of the house.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I see. The front door was open, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all. Pedro had locked up for the night.” + </p> + <p> + “And locked you out?” + </p> + <p> + “No; I descended from my window by means of a ladder which I had brought + with me for the purpose.” + </p> + <p> + “With a ladder? That’s rather extraordinary, Mr Harley.” + </p> + <p> + “It is extraordinary. I have strange habits.” + </p> + <p> + Inspector Aylesbury cleared his throat again and looked frowningly across + at my friend. + </p> + <p> + “What part of the grounds were you in when the shot was fired?” he + demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Halfway along the north side.” + </p> + <p> + “What were you doing?” + </p> + <p> + “I was running.” + </p> + <p> + “Running?” + </p> + <p> + “You see, Inspector, I regarded it as my duty to patrol the grounds of the + house at nightfall, since, for all I knew to the contrary, some of the + servants might be responsible for the attempts of which the Colonel + complained. I had descended from the window of my room, had passed + entirely around the house east to west, and had returned to my + starting-point when Mr. Knox, who was looking out of the window, observed + Colonel Menendez entering the Tudor garden.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh. Colonel Menendez was not visible to you?” + </p> + <p> + “Not from my position below, but being informed by my friend, who was + hurriedly descending the ladder, that the Colonel had entered the garden, + I set off running to intercept him.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “He had acquired a habit of walking in his sleep, and I presumed that he + was doing so on this occasion.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I see. So being told by the gentleman at the window that Colonel + Menendez was in the garden, you started to run toward him. While you were + running you heard a shot?” + </p> + <p> + “I did.” + </p> + <p> + “Where do you think it came from?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing is more difficult to judge, Inspector, especially when one is + near to a large building surrounded by trees.” + </p> + <p> + “Nevertheless,” said the Inspector, again raising his finger and frowning + at Harley, “you cannot tell me that you formed no impression on the point. + For instance, was it near, or a long way off?” + </p> + <p> + “It was fairly near.” + </p> + <p> + “Ten yards, twenty yards, a hundred yards, a mile?” + </p> + <p> + “Within a hundred yards. I cannot be more exact.” + </p> + <p> + “Within a hundred yards, and you have no idea from which direction the + shot was fired?” + </p> + <p> + “From the sound I could form none.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I see. And what did you do?” + </p> + <p> + “I ran on and down into the sunken garden. I saw Colonel Menendez lying + upon his face near the sun-dial. He was moving convulsively. Running up to + him, I that he had been shot through the head.” + </p> + <p> + “What steps did you take?” + </p> + <p> + “My friend, Mr. Knox, had joined me, and I sent him for assistance.” + </p> + <p> + “But what steps did you take to apprehend the murderer?” + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley looked at him quietly. + </p> + <p> + “What steps should you have taken?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + Inspector Aylesbury cleared his throat again, and: + </p> + <p> + “I don’t think I should have let my man slip through my fingers like + that,” he replied. “Why! by now he may be out of the county.” + </p> + <p> + “Your theory is quite feasible,” said Harley, tonelessly. + </p> + <p> + “You were actually on the spot when the shot was fired, you admit that it + was fired within a hundred yards, yet you did nothing to apprehend the + murderer.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” replied Harley, “I was ridiculously inactive. You see, I am a mere + amateur, Inspector. For my future guidance I should be glad to know what + the correct procedure would have been.” + </p> + <p> + Inspector Aylesbury blew his nose. + </p> + <p> + “I know my job,” he said. “If I had been called in there might have been a + different tale to tell. But he was a foreigner, and he paid for his + ignorance, poor fellow.” + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley took out his pipe and began to load it in a deliberate and + lazy manner. + </p> + <p> + Inspector Aylesbury turned his prominent eyes in my direction. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX. COMPLICATIONS + </h2> + <p> + “I am afraid of this man Aylesbury,” said Paul Harley. We sat in the + deserted dining room. I had contributed my account of the evening’s + happenings, Dr. Rolleston had made his report, and Inspector Aylesbury was + now examining the servants in the library. Harley and I had obtained his + official permission to withdraw, and the physician was visiting Madame de + Stämer, who lay in a state of utter prostration. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean, Harley?” + </p> + <p> + “I mean that he will presently make some tragic blunder. Good God, Knox, + to think that this man had sought my aid, and that I stood by idly whilst + he walked out to his death. I shall never forgive myself.” He banged the + table with his fist. “Even now that these unknown fiends have achieved + their object, I am helpless, helpless. There was not a wisp of smoke to + guide me, Knox, and one man cannot search a county.” + </p> + <p> + I sighed wearily. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know, Harley,” I said, “I am thinking of a verse of Kipling’s.” + </p> + <p> + “I know!” he interrupted, almost savagely. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “A Snider squibbed in the jungle. + Somebody laughed and fled—” + </pre> + <p> + “Oh, I know, Knox. I heard that damnable laughter, too.” + </p> + <p> + “My God,” I whispered, “who was it? What was it? Where did it come from?” + </p> + <p> + “As well ask where the shot came from, Knox. Out amongst all those trees, + with a house that might have been built for a sounding-board, who could + presume to say where either came from? One thing we know, that the shot + came from the south.” + </p> + <p> + He leaned upon a corner of the table, staring at me intently. + </p> + <p> + “From the south?” I echoed. + </p> + <p> + Harley glanced in the direction of the open door. + </p> + <p> + “Presently,” he said, “we shall have to tell Aylesbury everything that we + know. After all, he represents the law; but unless we can get Inspector + Wessex down from Scotland Yard, I foresee a miscarriage of justice. + Colonel Menendez lay on his face, and the line made by his recumbent body + pointed almost directly toward—” + </p> + <p> + I nodded, watching him. + </p> + <p> + “I know, Harley—toward the Guest House.” + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley inclined his head, grimly. + </p> + <p> + “The first light which we saw,” he continued, “was in a window of the + Guest House. It may have had no significance. Awakened by the sound of a + rifle-shot near by, any one would naturally get up.” + </p> + <p> + “And having decided to come downstairs and investigate,” I continued, + “would naturally light a lamp.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite so.” He stared at me very hard. “Yet,” he said, “unless Mr. Colin + Camber can produce an alibi I foresee a very stormy time for him.” + </p> + <p> + “So do I, Harley. A deadly hatred existed between these two men, and + probably this horrible deed was done on the spur of the moment. It is of + his poor little girl-wife that I am thinking. As though her troubles were + not heavy enough already.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he agreed. “I am almost tempted to hold my tongue, Knox, until I + have personally interviewed these people. But of course if our blundering + friend directly questions me, I shall have no alternative. I shall have to + answer him. His talent for examination, however, scarcely amounts to + genius, so that we may not be called upon for further details at the + moment. I wonder how I can induce him to requisition Scotland Yard?” + </p> + <p> + He rested his chin in his hand and stared down reflectively at the carpet. + I thought that he looked very haggard, as he sat there in the early + morning light, dressed as for dinner. There was something pathetic in the + pose of his bowed head. + </p> + <p> + Leaning across, I placed my hand on his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t get despondent, old chap,” I said. “You have not failed yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but I have, Knox!” he cried, fiercely, “I have! He came to me for + protection. Now he lies dead in his own house. Failed? I have failed + utterly, miserably.” + </p> + <p> + I turned aside as the door opened and Dr. Rolleston came in. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, gentlemen,” he said, “I wanted to see you before leaving. I have just + been to visit Madame de Stämer again.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Harley, eagerly; “how is she?” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Rolleston lighted a cigarette, frowning perplexedly the while. + </p> + <p> + “To be honest,” he replied, “her condition puzzles me.” + </p> + <p> + He walked across to the fireplace and dropped the match, staring at Harley + with a curious expression. + </p> + <p> + “Has any one told her the truth?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “You mean that Colonel Menendez is dead?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” replied Dr. Rolleston. “I understood that no one had told her?” + </p> + <p> + “No one has done so to my knowledge,” said Harley. + </p> + <p> + “Then the sympathy between them must have been very acute,” murmured the + physician, “for she certainly knows!” + </p> + <p> + “Do you really think she knows?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “I am certain of it. She must have had knowledge of a danger to be + apprehended, and being awakened by the sound of the rifle shot, have + realized by a sort of intuition that the expected tragedy had happened. I + should say, from the presence of a small bruise which I found upon her + forehead, that she had actually walked out into the corridor.” + </p> + <p> + “Walked?” I cried. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the physician. “She is a shell-shock case, of course, and we + sometimes find that a second shock counteracts the effect of the first. + This, temporarily at any rate, seems to have happened to-night. She is now + in a very curious state: a form of hysteria, no doubt, but very curious + all the same.” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Beverley is with her?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Rolleston nodded affirmatively. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, a very capable nurse. I am glad to know that Madame de Stämer is in + such good hands. I am calling again early in the morning, and I have told + Mrs. Fisher to see that nothing is said within hearing of the room which + could enable Madame de Stämer to obtain confirmation of the idea, which + she evidently entertains, that Colonel Menendez is dead.” + </p> + <p> + “Does she actually assert that he is dead?” asked Harley. + </p> + <p> + “My dear sir,” replied Dr. Rolleston, “she asserts nothing. She sits there + like Niobe changed to stone, staring straight before her. She seems to be + unaware of the presence of everyone except Miss Beverley. The only words + she has spoken since recovering consciousness have been, ‘Don’t leave + me!’” + </p> + <p> + “Hm,” muttered Harley. “You have not attended Madame de Stämer before, + doctor?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” was the reply, “this is the first time I have entered Cray’s Folly + since it was occupied by Sir James Appleton.” + </p> + <p> + He was about to take his departure when the door opened and Inspector + Aylesbury walked in. + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” said he, “I have two more witnesses to interview: Madame de Stämer + and Miss Beverley. From these witnesses I hope to get particulars of the + dead man’s life which may throw some light upon the identity of his + murderer.” + </p> + <p> + “It is impossible to see either of them at present,” replied Dr. Rolleston + briskly. + </p> + <p> + “What’s that, doctor?” asked the Inspector. “Are they hysterical, or + something?” + </p> + <p> + “As a result of the shock, Madame de Stämer is dangerously ill,” replied + the physician, “and Miss Beverley is remaining with her.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I see. But Miss Beverley could come out for a few minutes?” + </p> + <p> + “She could,” admitted the physician, sharply, “but I don’t wish her to do + so.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but the law must be served, doctor.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite so, but not at the expense of my patient’s reason.” + </p> + <p> + He was a resolute man, this country practitioner, and I saw Harley smiling + in grim approval. + </p> + <p> + “I have expressed my opinion,” he said, finally, walking out of the room; + “I shall leave the responsibility to you, Inspector Aylesbury. Good + morning, gentlemen.” + </p> + <p> + Inspector Aylesbury scratched his chin. + </p> + <p> + “That’s awkward,” he muttered. “The evidence of this woman is highly + important.” + </p> + <p> + He turned toward us, doubtingly, whereupon Harley stood up, yawning. + </p> + <p> + “If I can be of any further assistance to you, Inspector,” said my friend, + “command me. Otherwise, I feel sure you will appreciate the fact that both + Mr. Knox and myself are extremely tired, and have passed through a very + trying ordeal.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” replied Inspector Aylesbury, “that’s all very well, but I find + myself at a deadlock.” + </p> + <p> + “You surprise me,” declared Harley. + </p> + <p> + “I can see nothing to be surprised about,” cried the Inspector. “When I + was called in it was already too late.” + </p> + <p> + “Most unfortunate,” murmured Harley, disagreeably. “Come along, Knox, you + look tired to death.” + </p> + <p> + “One moment, gentlemen,” the Inspector insisted, as I stood up. “One + moment. There is a little point which you may be able to clear up.” + </p> + <p> + Harley paused, his hand on the door knob, and turned. + </p> + <p> + “The point is this,” continued the Inspector, frowning portentously and + lowering his chin so that it almost disappeared into the folds of his + neck, “I have now interviewed all the inmates of Cray’s Folly except the + ladies. It appears to me that four people had not gone to bed. There are + you two gentlemen, who have explained why I found you in evening dress, + Colonel Menendez, who can never explain, and there is one other.” + </p> + <p> + He paused, looking from Harley to myself. + </p> + <p> + It had come, the question which I had dreaded, the question which I had + been asking myself ever since I had seen Val Beverley kneeling in the + corridor, dressed as she had been when we had parted for the night. + </p> + <p> + “I refer to Miss Val Beverley,” the police-court voice proceeded. “This + lady had evidently not retired, and neither, it would appear, had the + Colonel.” + </p> + <p> + “Neither had I,” murmured Harley, “and neither had Mr. Knox.” + </p> + <p> + “Your reason I understand,” said the Inspector, “or at least your + explanation is a possible one. But if the party broke up, as you say it + did, somewhere about half-past ten o’clock, and if Madame de Stämer had + gone to bed, why should Miss Beverley have remained up?” He paused + significantly. “As well as Colonel Menendez?” he added. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Inspector Aylesbury,” I interrupted, I speaking in a very + quiet tone, I remember, “your insinuations annoy me.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said he, turning his prominent eyes in my direction, “I see. They + annoy you? If they annoy you, sir, perhaps you can explain this point + which is puzzling me?” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot explain it, but doubtless Miss Beverley can do so when you ask + her.” + </p> + <p> + “I should like to have asked her now, and I can’t make out why she refuses + to see me.” + </p> + <p> + “She has not refused to see you,” replied Harley, smoothly. “She is + probably unaware of the fact that you wish to see her.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know so much,” muttered the Inspector. “In my opinion I am being + deliberately baffled on all sides. You can throw no light on this matter, + then?” + </p> + <p> + “None,” I answered, shortly, and Paul Harley shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “But you must remember, Inspector,” he explained, “that the entire + household was in a state of unrest.” + </p> + <p> + “In other words, everybody was waiting for this very thing to happen?” + </p> + <p> + “Consciously, or subconsciously, everybody was.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean by consciously or subconsciously?” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “I mean that those of us who were aware of the previous attempts on +the life of the Colonel apprehended this danger. And I believe that +something of this apprehension had extended even to the servants.” + + “Oh, to the servants? Now, I have seen all the servants, except the +chef, who lives at a house on the outskirts of Mid-Hatton, as you may +know. Can you give me any information about this man?” + </pre> + <p> + “I have seen him,” replied Harley, “and have congratulated him upon his + culinary art. His name, I believe, is Deronne. He is a Spaniard, and a + little fat man. Quite an amiable creature,” he added. + </p> + <p> + “Hm.” The Inspector cleared his throat noisily. + </p> + <p> + “If that is all,” said Harley, “I should welcome an opportunity of a few + hours’ sleep.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said the Inspector. “Well, I suppose that is quite natural, but I + shall probably have a lot more questions to ask you later.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite,” muttered Harley, “quite. Come on, Knox. Good-night, Inspector + Aylesbury.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-night.” + </p> + <p> + Harley walked out of the dining room and across the deserted hall. He + slowly mounted the stairs and I followed him into his room. It was now + quite light, and as my friend dropped down upon the bed I thought that he + looked very tired and haggard. + </p> + <p> + “Knox,” he said, “shut the door.” + </p> + <p> + I closed the door and turned to him. + </p> + <p> + “You heard that question about Miss Beverley?” I began. + </p> + <p> + “I heard it, and I am wondering what her answer will be when the Inspector + puts it to her personally.” + </p> + <p> + “Surely it is obvious?” I cried. “A cloud of apprehension had settled on + the house last night, Harley, which was like the darkness of Egypt. The + poor girl was afraid to go to bed. She was probably sitting up reading.” + </p> + <p> + “Hm,” said Harley, drumming his feet upon the carpet. “Of course you + realize that there is one person in Cray’s Folly who holds the clue to the + heart of the mystery?” + </p> + <p> + “Madame de Stämer?” + </p> + <p> + He nodded grimly. + </p> + <p> + “When the rifle cracked out, Knox, she knew! Remember, no one had told her + the truth. Yet can you doubt that she knows?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t doubt it.” + </p> + <p> + “Neither do I.” He clenched his teeth tightly and beat his fists upon the + coverlet. “I was dreading that our friend the Inspector would ask a + question which to my mind was very obvious.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean?—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, what investigator whose skull contained anything more useful than + bubbles would have failed to ask if Colonel Menendez had an enemy in the + neighbourhood?” + </p> + <p> + “No one,” I admitted; “but I fear the poor man is sadly out of his depth.” + </p> + <p> + “He is wading hopelessly, Knox, but even he cannot fail to learn about + Camber to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + He stared at me in a curiously significant manner. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean, Harley,” I began, “that you really think——” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Knox,” he interrupted, “forgetting, if you like, all that + preceded the tragedy, with what facts are we left? That Colonel Menendez, + at the moment when the bullet entered his brain, must have been standing + facing directly toward the Guest House. Now, you have seen the direction + of the wound?” + </p> + <p> + “He was shot squarely between the eyes. A piece of wonderful + marksmanship.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite,” Harley nodded his head. “But the bullet came out just at the + vertex of the spine.” + </p> + <p> + He paused, as if waiting for some comment, and: + </p> + <p> + “You mean that the shot came from above?” I said, slowly. + </p> + <p> + “Obviously it came from above, Knox. Keep these two points in your mind, + and then consider the fact that someone lighted a lamp in the Guest House + only a few moments after the shot had been fired.” + </p> + <p> + “I remember. I saw it.” + </p> + <p> + “So did I,” said Harley, grimly, “and I saw something else.” + </p> + <p> + “What was that?” + </p> + <p> + “When you went off to summon assistance I ran across the lawn, scrambled + through the bushes, and succeeded in climbing down into the little gully + in which the stream runs, and up on the other side. I had proceeded + practically in a straight line from the sun-dial, and do you know where I + found myself?” + </p> + <p> + “I can guess,” I replied. + </p> + <p> + “Of course you can. You have visited the place. I came out immediately + beside a little hut, Knox, which stands at the end of the garden of the + Guest House. Ahead of me, visible through a tangle of bushes in the + neglected garden, a lamp was burning. I crept cautiously forward, and + presently obtained a view of the interior of a kitchen. Just as I arrived + at this point of vantage the lamp was extinguished, but not before I had + had a glimpse of the only occupant of the room—the man who had + extinguished the lamp.” + </p> + <p> + “Who was it?” I asked, in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + “It was a Chinaman.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah Tsong!” I cried. + </p> + <p> + “Doubtless.” + </p> + <p> + “Good heavens, Harley, do you think—” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know what to think, Knox. A possible explanation is that the + household had been aroused by the sound of the shot, and that Ah Tsong had + been directed to go out and see if he could learn what had happened. At + any rate, I waited no longer, but returned by the same route. If our + portly friend from Market Hilton had possessed the eyes of an Auguste + Dupin, he could not have failed to note that my dress boots were caked + with light yellow clay; which also, by the way, besmears my trousers.” + </p> + <p> + He stooped and examined the garments as he spoke. + </p> + <p> + “A number of thorns are also present,” he continued. “In short, from the + point of view of an investigation, I am a most provoking object.” + </p> + <p> + He sighed wearily, and stared out of the window in the direction of the + Tudor garden. There was a slight chilliness in the air, which, or perhaps + a sudden memory of that which lay in the billiard room beneath us, may + have accounted for the fact that I shivered violently. + </p> + <p> + Harley glanced up with a rather sad smile. + </p> + <p> + “The morning after Waterloo,” he said. “Sleep well, Knox.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX. A SPANISH CIGARETTE + </h2> + <p> + Sleep was not for me, despite Harley’s injunction, and although I was + early afoot, the big house was already astir with significant movements + which set the imagination on fire, to conjure up again the moonlight scene + in the garden, making mock of the song of the birds and of the glory of + the morning. + </p> + <p> + Manoel replied to my ring, and prepared my bath, but it was easy to see + that he had not slept. + </p> + <p> + No sound came from Harley’s room, therefore I did not disturb him, but + proceeded downstairs in the hope of finding Miss Beverley about. Pedro was + in the hall, talking to Mrs. Fisher, and: + </p> + <p> + “Is Inspector Aylesbury here?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir, but he will be returning at about half-past eight, so he said.” + </p> + <p> + “How is Madame de Stämer, Mrs. Fisher?” I enquired. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, poor, poor Madame,” said the old lady, “she is asleep, thank God. But + I am dreading her awakening.” + </p> + <p> + “The blow is a dreadful one,” I admitted; “and Miss Beverley?” + </p> + <p> + “She didn’t go to her room until after four o’clock, sir, but Nita tells + me that she will be down any moment now.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” said I, and lighting a cigarette, I walked out of the open doors + into the courtyard. + </p> + <p> + I dreaded all the ghastly official formalities which the day would bring, + since I realized that the brunt of the trouble must fall upon the + shoulders of Miss Beverley in the absence of Madame de Stämer. + </p> + <p> + I wandered about restlessly, awaiting the girl’s appearance. A little two + seater was drawn up in the courtyard, but I had not paid much attention to + it, until, wandering through the opening in the box hedge and on along the + gravel path, I saw unfamiliar figures moving in the billiard room, and + turned, hastily retracing my steps. Officialdom was at work already, and I + knew that there would be no rest for any of us from that hour onward. + </p> + <p> + As I reëntered the hall I saw Val Beverley coming down the staircase. She + looked pale, but seemed to be in better spirits than I could have hoped + for, although there were dark shadows under her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Good morning, Miss Beverley,” I said. + </p> + <p> + “Good morning, Mr. Knox. It was good of you to come down so early.” + </p> + <p> + “I had hoped for a chat with you before Inspector Aylesbury returned,” I + explained. + </p> + <p> + She looked at me pathetically. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose he will want me to give evidence?” + </p> + <p> + “He will. We had great difficulty in persuading him not to demand your + presence last night.” + </p> + <p> + “It was impossible,” she protested. “It would have been cruel to make me + leave Madame in the circumstances.” + </p> + <p> + “We realized this, Miss Beverley, but you will have to face the ordeal + this morning.” + </p> + <p> + We walked through into the library, where a maid white-faced and + frightened looking, was dusting in a desultory fashion. She went out as we + entered, and Val Beverley stood looking from the open window out into the + rose garden bathed in the morning sunlight. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Heavens,” she said, clenching her hands desperately, “even now I + cannot realize that the horrible thing is true.” She turned to me. “Who + can possibly have committed this cold-blooded crime?” she said in a low + voice. “What does Mr. Harley think? Has he any idea, any idea whatever?” + </p> + <p> + “Not that he has confided to me,” I said, watching her intently. “But tell + me, does Madame de Stämer know yet?” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “I mean has she been told the truth?” + </p> + <p> + The girl shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “No,” she replied; “I am positive that no one has told her. I was with her + all the time, up to the very moment that she fell asleep. Yet—” + </p> + <p> + She hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” + </p> + <p> + “She knows! Oh, Mr. Knox! to me that is the most horrible thing of all: + that she knows, that she must have known all along—that the mere + sound of the shot told her everything!” + </p> + <p> + “You realize, now,” I said, quietly, “that she had anticipated the end?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes. This was the meaning of the sorrow which I had seen so often in + her eyes, the meaning of so much that puzzled me in her words, the + explanation of lots of little things which have made me wonder in the + past.” + </p> + <p> + I was silent for a while, then: + </p> + <p> + “If she was so certain that no one could save him,” I said, “she must have + had information which neither he nor she ever imparted to us.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure she had,” declared Val Beverley. + </p> + <p> + “But can you think of any reason why she should not have confided in Paul + Harley?” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot, I cannot—unless—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” + </p> + <p> + “Unless, Mr. Knox,” she looked at me strangely, “they were both under some + vow of silence. Oh! it sounds ridiculous, wildly ridiculous, but what + other explanation can there be?” + </p> + <p> + “What other, indeed? And now, Miss Beverley, I know one of the questions + Inspector Aylesbury will ask you.” + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “He has learned, from one of the servants I presume, as he did not see + you, that you had not retired last night at the time of the tragedy.” + </p> + <p> + “I had not,” said Val Beverley, quietly. “Is that so singular?” + </p> + <p> + “To me it is no more than natural.” + </p> + <p> + “I have never been so frightened in all my life as I was last night. Sleep + was utterly out of the question. There was mystery in the very air. I + knew, oh, Mr. Knox, in some way I knew that a tragedy was going to + happen.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe I knew, too,” I said. “Good God, to think that we might have + saved him!” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think—” began Val Beverley, and then paused. + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” I prompted. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I was going to say a strange thing that suddenly occurred to me, but + it is utterly foolish, I suppose. Inspector Aylesbury is coming back at + nine o’clock, is he not?” + </p> + <p> + “At half-past eight, so I understand.” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid I have very little to tell him. I was sitting in my room in + an appalling state of nerves when the shot was fired. I was not even + reading; I was just waiting, waiting, for something to happen.” + </p> + <p> + “I understand. My own experience was nearly identical.” + </p> + <p> + “Then,” continued the girl, “as I unlocked my door and peeped out, feeling + too frightened to venture farther in the darkness, I heard Madame’s voice + in the hall below.” + </p> + <p> + “Crying for help?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” replied the girl, a puzzled frown appearing between her brows. “She + cried out something in French. The intonation told me that it was French, + although I could not detect a single word. Then I thought I heard a moan.” + </p> + <p> + “And you ran down?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I summoned up enough courage to turn on the light in the corridor + and to run down to the hall. And there she was lying just outside the door + of her room.” + </p> + <p> + “Was her room in darkness?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I turned on the light and succeeded in partly raising her, but she + was too heavy for me to lift. I was still trying to revive her when Pedro + opened the door of the servants’ quarters. Oh,” she closed her eyes + wearily, “I shall never forget it.” + </p> + <p> + I took her hand and pressed it reassuringly. + </p> + <p> + “Your courage has been wonderful throughout,” I declared, “and I hope it + will remain so to the end.” + </p> + <p> + She smiled, and flushed slightly, as I released her hand again. + </p> + <p> + “I must go and take a peep at Madame now,” she said, “but of course I + shall not disturb her if she is still sleeping.” + </p> + <p> + We turned and walked slowly back to the hall, and there just entering from + the courtyard was Inspector Aylesbury. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” he exclaimed, “good morning, Mr. Knox. This is Miss Beverley, I + presume?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Inspector,” replied the girl. “I understand that you wish to speak + to me?” + </p> + <p> + “I do, Miss, but I shall not detain you for many minutes.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” she said, and as she turned and retraced her steps, he + followed her back into the library. + </p> + <p> + I walked out to the courtyard, and avoiding the Tudor garden and the + billiard room, turned in the other direction, passing the stables where + Jim, the negro groom, saluted me very sadly, and proceeded round to the + south side of the house. + </p> + <p> + Inspector Aylesbury, I perceived, had wasted no time. I counted no fewer + than four men, two of them in uniform, searching the lawns and the slopes + beyond, although what they were looking for I could not imagine. + </p> + <p> + Giving the library a wide berth, I walked along the second terrace, and + presently came in sight of the east wing and the tower. There, apparently + engaged in studying the rhododendrons, I saw Paul Harley. + </p> + <p> + He signalled to me, and, crossing the lawn, I joined him where he stood. + </p> + <p> + Without any word of greeting: + </p> + <p> + “You see, Knox,” he said, speaking in the eager manner which betokened a + rapidly working brain, “this is the path which the Colonel must have + followed last night. Yonder is the door by which, according to his own + account, he came out on a previous occasion, walking in his sleep. Do you + remember?” + </p> + <p> + “I remember,” I replied. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Pedro found it unlocked this morning. You see it faces practically + due south, and the Colonel’s bedroom is immediately above us where we + stand.” He stared at me queerly. “I must have passed this door last night + only a few moments before the Colonel came out, for I was just crossing + the courtyard and could see you at my window at the moment when you saw + poor Menendez enter the Tudor garden. He must have actually been walking + around the east wing at the same time that I was walking around the west. + Now, I am going to show you something, Knox, something which I have just + discovered.” + </p> + <p> + From his waistcoat pocket he took out a half-smoked cigarette. I stared at + it uncomprehendingly. + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” he continued, “the weather has been bone dry for more than a + week now, and it may have lain there for a long time, but to me, Knox, to + me it looks suspiciously fresh.” + </p> + <p> + “What is the point?” I asked, perplexedly. + </p> + <p> + “The point is that it is a hand-made cigarette, one of the Colonel’s. + Don’t you recognize it?” + </p> + <p> + “Good heavens!” I said; “yes, of course it is.” + </p> + <p> + He returned it to his pocket without another word. + </p> + <p> + “It may mean nothing,” he murmured, “or it may mean everything. And now, + Knox, we are going to escape.” + </p> + <p> + “To escape?” I cried. + </p> + <p> + “Precisely. We are going to anticipate the probable movements of our + blundering Aylesbury. In short, I wish you to present me to Mr. Colin + Camber.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” I exclaimed, staring at him incredulously. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to ask you,” he began, and then, breaking off: “Quick, Knox, + run!” he said. + </p> + <p> + And thereupon, to my amazement, he set off through the rhododendron bushes + in the direction of the tower! + </p> + <p> + Utterly unable to grasp the meaning of his behaviour, I followed, + nevertheless, and as we rounded the corner of the tower Harley pulled up + short, and: + </p> + <p> + “I am not mad,” he explained rather breathlessly, “but I wanted to avoid + being seen by that constable who is prowling about at the bottom of the + lawn making signals in the direction of the library. Presumably he is + replying to Inspector Aylesbury who wants to talk to us. I am determined + to interview Camber before submitting to further official interrogation. + It must be a cross-country journey, Knox. I am afraid we shall be a very + muddy pair, but great issues may hang upon the success of our expedition.” + </p> + <p> + He set off briskly toward a belt of shrubbery which marked the edge of the + little stream. Appreciating something of his intentions, I followed his + lead unquestioningly; and, scrambling through the bushes: + </p> + <p> + “This was the point at which I descended last night,” he said. “You will + have to wade, Knox, but the water is hardly above one’s ankles.” + </p> + <p> + He dropped into the brook, waded across, and began to climb up the + opposite bank. I imitated his movements, and presently, having scrambled + up on the farther side, we found ourselves standing on a narrow bank + immediately under that summer house which Colin Camber had told me he had + formerly used as a study. + </p> + <p> + “We can scarcely present ourselves at the kitchen door,” murmured Harley; + “therefore we must try to find a way round to the front. There is barbed + wire here. Be careful.” + </p> + <p> + I had now entered with zest into the business, and so the pair of us waded + through rank grass which in places was waist high, and on through a + perfect wilderness of weeds in which nettles dominated. Presently we came + to a dry ditch, which we negotiated successfully, to find ourselves upon + the high road some hundred yards to the west of the Guest House. + </p> + <p> + “I predict an unfriendly reception,” I said, panting from my exertions, + and surveying my friend, who was a mockery of his ordinarily spruce self. + </p> + <p> + “We must face it,” he replied, grimly. “He has everything to gain by being + civil to us.” + </p> + <p> + We proceeded along the dusty high road, almost overarched by trees. + </p> + <p> + “Harley,” I said, “this is going to be a highly unpleasant ordeal for me.” + </p> + <p> + Harley stopped short, staring at me sternly. + </p> + <p> + “I know, Knox,” he replied; “but I suppose you realize that a man’s life + is at stake.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean—?” + </p> + <p> + “I mean that when we are both compelled to tell all we know, I doubt if + there is a counsel in the land who would undertake the defence of Mr. + Colin Camber.” + </p> + <p> + “Good God! then you think he is guilty?” + </p> + <p> + “Did I say so?” asked Harley, continuing on his way. “I don’t recollect + saying so, Knox; but I do say that it will be a giant’s task to prove him + innocent.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you believe him to be innocent?” I cried, eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “My dear fellow,” he replied, somewhat irritably, “I have not yet met Mr. + Colin Camber. I will answer your question at the conclusion of the + interview.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI. THE WING OF A BAT + </h2> + <p> + For a long time our knocking and ringing elicited no response. The + brilliant state of the door-brass afforded evidence of the fact that Ah + Tsong had arisen, even if the other members of the household were still + sleeping, and Harley, growing irritable, executed a loud tattoo upon the + knocker. This had its effect. The door opened and Ah Tsong looked out. + </p> + <p> + “Tell your master that Mr. Paul Harley has called to see him upon urgent + business.” + </p> + <p> + “Master no got,” replied Ah Tsong, and proceeded to close the door. + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley thrust his hand against it and addressed the man rapidly in + Chinese. I could not have supposed the face of Ah Tsong capable of + expressing so much animation. At the sound of his native tongue his eyes + lighted up, and: + </p> + <p> + “<i>Tchée, tchée,</i>” he said, turned, and disappeared. + </p> + <p> + Although he had studiously avoided looking at me, that Ah Tsong would + inform his master of the identity of his second visitor I did not doubt. + If I had doubted I should promptly have been disillusioned, for: + </p> + <p> + “Tell them to go away!” came a muffled cry from somewhere within. “No spy + of Devil Menendez shall ever pass my doors again!” + </p> + <p> + The Chinaman, on retiring, had left the door wide open, and I could see + right to the end of the gloomy hall. Ah Tsong presently re-appeared, + shuffling along in our direction. Unemotionally: + </p> + <p> + “Master no got,” he repeated. + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley stamped his foot irritably. + </p> + <p> + “Good God, Knox,” he said, “this unreasonable fool almost exhausts my + patience.” + </p> + <p> + Again he addressed Ah Tsong in Chinese, and although the man’s wrinkled + ivory face exhibited no trace of emotion, a deep understanding was to be + read in those oblique eyes; and a second time Ah Tsong turned and trotted + back to the study. I could hear a muttered colloquy in progress, and + suddenly the gaunt figure of Colin Camber burst into view. + </p> + <p> + He was shaved this morning, but arrayed as I had last seen him. Whilst he + was not in that state of incoherent anger which I remembered and still + resented, he was nevertheless in an evil temper. + </p> + <p> + He strode along the hallway, his large eyes widely opened, and fixing a + cold stare upon the face of Harley. + </p> + <p> + “I learn that your name is Mr. Paul Harley,” he said, entirely ignoring my + presence, “and you send me a very strange message. I am used to the ways + of Señor Menendez, therefore your message does not deceive me. The + gateway, sir, is directly behind you.” + </p> + <p> + Harley clenched his teeth, then: + </p> + <p> + “The scaffold, Mr. Camber,” he replied, “is directly in front of you.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean, sir?” demanded the other, and despite my resentment of + the treatment which I had received at his hands, I could only admire the + lofty disdain of his manner. + </p> + <p> + “I mean, Mr. Camber, that the police are close upon my heels.” + </p> + <p> + “The police? Of what interest can this be to me?” + </p> + <p> + Harley’s keen eyes were searching the pale face of the man before him. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Camber,” he said, “the shot was a good one.” + </p> + <p> + Not a muscle of Colin Camber’s face moved, but slowly he looked Paul + Harley up and down, then: + </p> + <p> + “I have been called a hasty man,” he replied, coldly, “but I can scarcely + be accused of leaping to a conclusion when I say that I believe you to be + mad. You have interrupted me, sir. Good morning.” + </p> + <p> + He stepped back, and would have closed the door, but: + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Camber,” said Paul Harley, and the tone of his voice was arresting. + </p> + <p> + Colin Camber paused. + </p> + <p> + “My name is evidently unfamiliar to you,” Harley continued. “You regard + myself and Mr. Knox as friends of the late Colonel Menendez—” + </p> + <p> + At that Colin Camber started forward. + </p> + <p> + “The <i>late</i> Colonel Menendez?” he echoed, speaking almost in a + whisper. + </p> + <p> + But as if he had not heard him Harley continued: + </p> + <p> + “As a matter of fact, I am a criminal investigator, and Mr. Knox is + assisting me in my present case.” + </p> + <p> + Colin Camber clenched his hands and seemed to be fighting with some + emotion which possessed him, then: + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean,” he said, hoarsely—“do you mean that Menendez is—dead?” + </p> + <p> + “I do,” replied Harley. “May I request the privilege of ten minutes’ + private conversation with you?” + </p> + <p> + Colin Camber stood aside, holding the door open, and inclining his head in + that grave salutation which I knew, but on this occasion, I think, + principally with intent to hide his emotion. + </p> + <p> + Not another word did he speak until the three of us stood in the strange + study where East grimaced at West, and emblems of remote devil-worship + jostled the cross of the Holy Rose. The place was laden with tobacco + smoke, and scattered on the carpet about the feet of the writing table lay + twenty or more pages of closely written manuscript. Although this was a + brilliant summer’s morning, an old-fashioned reading lamp, called, I + believe, a Victoria, having a nickel receptacle for oil at one side of the + standard and a burner with a green glass shade upon the other, still shed + its light upon the desk. It was only reasonable to suppose that Colin + Camber had been at work all night. + </p> + <p> + He placed chairs for us, clearing them of the open volumes which they + bore, and, seating himself at the desk: + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Knox,” he began, slowly, paused, and then stood up, “I accused you of + something when you last visited my house, something of which I would not + lightly accuse any man. If I was wrong, I wish to apologize.” + </p> + <p> + “Only a matter of the utmost urgency could have induced me to cross your + threshold again,” I replied, coldly. “Your behaviour, sir, was + inexcusable.” + </p> + <p> + He rested his long white hands upon the desk, looking across at me. + </p> + <p> + “Whatever I did and whatever I said,” he continued, “one insult I laid + upon you more deadly than the rest: I accused you of friendship with Juan + Menendez. Was I unjust?” + </p> + <p> + He paused for a moment. + </p> + <p> + “I had been retained professionally by Colonel Menendez,” replied Harley + without hesitation, “and Mr. Knox kindly consented to accompany me.” + </p> + <p> + Colin Camber looked very hard at the speaker, and then equally hard at me. + </p> + <p> + “Was it at behest of Colonel Menendez that you called upon me, Mr. Knox?” + </p> + <p> + “It was not,” said Harley, tersely; “it was at mine. And he is here now at + my request. Come, sir, we are wasting time. At any moment—” + </p> + <p> + Colin Camber held up his hand, interrupting him. + </p> + <p> + “By your leave, Mr. Harley,” he said, and there was something compelling + in voice and gesture, “I must first perform my duty as a gentleman.” + </p> + <p> + He stepped forward in my direction. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Knox, I have grossly insulted you. Yet if you knew what had inspired + my behaviour I believe you could find it in your heart to forgive me. I do + not ask you to do so, however; I accept the humiliation of knowing that I + have mortally offended a guest.” + </p> + <p> + He bowed to me formally, and would have returned to his seat, but: + </p> + <p> + “Pray say no more,” I said, standing up and extending my hand. Indeed, so + impressive was the man’s strange personality that I felt rather as one + receiving a royal pardon than as an offended party being offered an + apology. “It was a misunderstanding. Let us forget it.” + </p> + <p> + His eyes gleamed, and he seized my hand in a warm grip. + </p> + <p> + “You are generous, Mr. Knox, you are generous. And now, sir,” he inclined + his head in Paul Harley’s direction, and resumed his seat. + </p> + <p> + Harley had suffered this odd little interlude in silence but now: + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Camber,” he said, rapidly, “I sent you a message by your Chinese + servant to the effect that the police would be here within ten minutes to + arrest you.” + </p> + <p> + “You did, sir,” replied Colin Camber, drawing toward him a piece of + newspaper upon which rested a dwindling mound of shag. “This is most + disturbing, of course. But since I have not rendered myself amenable to + the law, it leaves me moderately unmoved. Upon your second point, Mr. + Harley, I shall beg you, to enlarge. You tell me that Don Juan Menendez is + dead?” + </p> + <p> + He had begun to fill his corn-cob as he spoke the words, but from where I + sat I could just see his face, so that although his voice was well + controlled, the gleam in his eyes was unmistakable. + </p> + <p> + “He was shot through the head shortly after midnight.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + Colin Camber dropped the corn-cob and stood up again, the light of a + dawning comprehension in his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean that he was murdered?” + </p> + <p> + “I do.” + </p> + <p> + “Good God,” whispered Camber, “at last I understand.” + </p> + <p> + “That is why we are here, Mr. Camber, and that is why the police will be + here at any moment.” + </p> + <p> + Colin Camber stood erect, one hand resting upon the desk. + </p> + <p> + “So this was the meaning of the shot which we heard in the night,” he + said, slowly. + </p> + <p> + Crossing the room, he closed and locked the study door, then, returning, + he sat down once more, entirely, master of himself. Frowning slightly he + looked from Harley in my direction, and then back again at Harley. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen,” he resumed, “I appreciate the urgency of my danger. + Preposterous though I know it to be, nevertheless it is perhaps no more + than natural that suspicion should fall upon me.” + </p> + <p> + He was evidently thinking rapidly. His manner had grown quite cool, and I + could see that he had focussed his keen brain upon the abyss which he + perceived to lie in his path. + </p> + <p> + “Before I commit myself to any statements which might be used as + evidence,” he said, “doubtless, Mr. Harley, you will inform me of your + exact standpoint in this matter. Do you represent the late Colonel + Menendez, do you represent the law, or may I regard you as a perfectly + impartial enquirer?” + </p> + <p> + “You may regard me, Mr. Camber, as one to whom nothing but the truth is of + the slightest interest. I was requested by the late Colonel Menendez to + visit Cray’s Folly.” + </p> + <p> + “Professionally?” + </p> + <p> + “To endeavour to trace the origin of certain occurrences which had led him + to believe his life to be in danger.” + </p> + <p> + Harley paused, staring hard at Colin Camber. + </p> + <p> + “Since I recognize myself to be standing in the position of a suspect,” + said the latter, “it is perhaps unfair to request you to acquaint me with + the nature of these occurrences?” + </p> + <p> + “The one, sir,” replied Paul Harley, “which most intimately concerns + yourself is this: Almost exactly a month ago the wing of a bat was nailed + to the door of Cray’s Folly.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” exclaimed Colin Camber, leaning forward eagerly—“the wing of + a bat? What kind of bat?” + </p> + <p> + “Of a South American Vampire Bat.” + </p> + <p> + The effect of those words was curious. If any doubt respecting Camber’s + innocence had remained with me at this time I think his expression as he + leaned forward across the desk must certainly have removed it. That the + man was intellectually unusual, and intensely difficult to understand, + must have been apparent to the most superficial observer, but I found it + hard to believe that these moods of his were simulated. At the words “A + South American Vampire Bat” the enthusiasm of the specialist leapt into + his eyes. Personal danger was forgotten. Harley had trenched upon his + particular territory, and I knew that if Colin Camber had actually killed + Colonel Menendez, then it had been the act of a maniac. No man newly come + from so bloody a deed could have acted as Camber acted now. + </p> + <p> + “It is the death-sign of Voodoo!” he exclaimed, excitedly. + </p> + <p> + Yet again he arose, and crossing to one of the many cabinets which were in + the room, he pulled open a drawer and took out a shallow tray. + </p> + <p> + My friend was watching him intently, and from the expression upon his + bronzed face I could deduce the fact that in Colin Camber he had met the + supreme puzzle of his career. As Camber stood there, holding up an object + which he had taken from the tray, whilst Paul Harley sat staring at him, I + thought the scene was one transcending the grotesque. Here was the + suspected man triumphantly producing evidence to hang himself. + </p> + <p> + Between his finger and thumb Camber held the wing of a bat! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXII. COLIN CAMBER’S SECRET + </h2> + <p> + “I brought this bat wing from Haiti,” he explained, replacing it in the + tray. “It was found beneath the pillow of a negro missionary who had died + mysteriously during the night.” + </p> + <p> + He returned the tray to the drawer, closed the latter, and, standing + erect, raised clenched hands above his head. + </p> + <p> + “With no thought of blasphemy,” he said, “but with reverence, I thank God + from the bottom of my heart that Juan Menendez is dead.” + </p> + <p> + He reseated himself, whilst Harley regarded him silently, then: + </p> + <p> + “‘The evil that men do lives after them,’” he murmured. He rested his chin + upon his hand. “A bat wing,” he continued, musingly, “a bat wing was + nailed to Menendez’s door.” He stared across at Harley. “Am I to believe, + sir, that this was the clue which led you to the Guest House?” + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley nodded. + </p> + <p> + “It was.” + </p> + <p> + “I understand. I must therefore take no more excursions into my special + subject, but must endeavour to regard the matter from the point of view of + the enquiry. Am I to assume that Menendez was acquainted with the + significance of this token?” + </p> + <p> + “He had seen it employed in the West Indies.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, the black-hearted devil! But I fear I am involving myself more deeply + in suspicion. Perhaps, Mr. Harley, the ends of justice would be better + served if you were to question me, and I to confine myself to answering + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” Harley agreed: “when and where did you meet the late Colonel + Menendez?” + </p> + <p> + “I never met him in my life.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean that you had never spoken to him?” + </p> + <p> + “Never.” + </p> + <p> + “Hm. Tell me, Mr. Camber, where were you at twelve o’clock last night?” + </p> + <p> + “Here, writing.” + </p> + <p> + “And where was Ah Tsong?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah Tsong?” Colin Camber stared uncomprehendingly. “Ah Tsong was in bed.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh. Did anything disturb you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, the sound of a rifle shot.” + </p> + <p> + “You knew it for a rifle shot?” + </p> + <p> + “It was unmistakable.” + </p> + <p> + “What did you do?” + </p> + <p> + “I was in the midst of a most important passage, and I should probably + have taken no steps in the matter but that Ah Tsong knocked upon the study + door, to inform me that my wife had been awakened by the sound of the + shot. She is somewhat nervous and had rung for Ah Tsong, asking him to see + if all were well with me.” + </p> + <p> + “Do I understand that she imagined the sound to have come from this room?” + </p> + <p> + “When we are newly awakened from sleep, Mr. Harley, we retain only an + imperfect impression of that which awakened us.” + </p> + <p> + “True,” replied Paul Harley; “and did Ah Tsong return to his room?” + </p> + <p> + “Not immediately. Permit me to say, Mr. Harley, that the nature of your + questions surprises me. At the moment I fail to see their bearing upon the + main issue. He returned and reported to my wife that I was writing, and + she then requested him to bring her a glass of milk. Accordingly, he came + down again, and going out into the kitchen, executed this order.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah. He would have to light a candle for that purpose, I suppose?” + </p> + <p> + “A candle, or a lamp,” replied Colin Camber, staring at Paul Harley. Then, + his expression altering: “Of course!” he cried. “You saw the light from + Cray’s Folly? I understand at last.” + </p> + <p> + We were silent for a while, until: + </p> + <p> + “How long a time elapsed between the firing of the shot and Ah Tsong’s + knocking at the study door?” asked Harley. + </p> + <p> + “I could not answer definitely. I was absorbed in my work. But probably + only a minute or two.” + </p> + <p> + “Was the sound a loud one?” + </p> + <p> + “Fairly loud. And very startling, of course, in the silence of the night.” + </p> + <p> + “The shot, then, was fired from somewhere quite near the house?” + </p> + <p> + “I presume so.” + </p> + <p> + “But you thought no more about the matter?” + </p> + <p> + “Frankly, I had forgotten it. You see, the neighbourhood is rich with + game; it might have been a poacher.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite,” murmured Harley, but his face was very stern. “I wonder if you + fully realize the danger of your position, Mr. Camber?” + </p> + <p> + “Believe me,” was the reply, “I can anticipate almost every question which + I shall be called upon to answer.” + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley stared at him in a way which told me that he was comparing his + features line for line with the etching of Edgar Allen Poe which hung in + his office in Chancery Lane, and: + </p> + <p> + “I do believe you,” he replied, “and I am wondering if you are in a + position to clear yourself?” + </p> + <p> + “On the contrary,” Camber assured him, “I am only waiting to hear that + Juan Menendez was shot in the grounds of Cray’s Folly, and not within the + house, to propose to you that unless the real assassin be discovered, I + shall quite possibly pay the penalty of his crime.” + </p> + <p> + “He was shot in the Tudor garden,” replied Harley, “within sight of your + windows.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” Colin Camber resumed the task of stuffing shag into his corn-cob. + “Then if it would interest you, Mr. Harley, I will briefly outline the + case against myself. I had never troubled to disguise the fact that I + hated Menendez. Many witnesses can be called to testify to this. He was in + Cuba when I was in Cuba, and evidence is doubtless obtainable to show that + we stayed at the same hotels in various cities of the United States prior + to my coming to England and leasing the Guest House. Finally, he became my + neighbour in Surrey.” + </p> + <p> + He carefully lighted his pipe, whilst Harley and I watched him silently, + then: + </p> + <p> + “Menendez had the bat wing nailed to the door of his house,” he continued. + “He believed himself to be in danger, and associated this sign with the + source of his danger. Excepting himself and possibly certain other members + of his household it is improbable that any one else in Surrey understands + the significance of the token save myself. The unholy rites of Voodoo are + a closed book to the Western nations. I have opened that book, Mr. Harley. + The powers of the Obeah man, and especially of the arch-magician known and + dreaded by every negro as ‘Bat Wing,’ are familiar to me. Since I was + alone at the time that the shot was fired, and for some few minutes + afterward, and since the Tudor garden of Cray’s Folly is within easy range + of the Guest House, to fail to place me under arrest would be an act of + sheer stupidity.” + </p> + <p> + He spoke the words with a sort of triumph. Like the fakir, he possessed + the art of spiritual detachment, which is an attribute of genius. From an + intellectual eminence he was surveying his own peril. Colin Camber in the + flesh had ceased to exist; he was merely a pawn in a fascinating game. + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley glanced at his watch. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Camber,” he said, “I have just sustained the most crushing defeat of + my career. The man who had summoned me to his aid was killed almost before + my eyes. One thing I must do or accept professional oblivion.” + </p> + <p> + “I understand.” Colin Camber nodded. “Apprehend his murderer?” + </p> + <p> + “Ultimately, yes. But, firstly, I must see that to the assassination of + Colonel Menendez a judicial murder is not added.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean—?” asked Camber, eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “I mean that if you killed Menendez, you are a madman, and I have formed + the opinion during our brief conversation that you are brilliantly sane.” + </p> + <p> + Colin Camber rose and bowed in that old-world fashion which was his. + </p> + <p> + “I am obliged to you, Mr. Harley,” he replied. “But has Mr. Knox informed + you of my bibulous habits?” + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley nodded. + </p> + <p> + “They will, of course, be ascribed,” continued Camber, “and there are many + suitable analogies, to deliberate contemplation of a murderous deed. I + would remind you that chronic alcoholism is a recognized form, of + insanity.” + </p> + <p> + His mood changed again, and sighing wearily, he lay back in the chair. + Over his pale face crept an expression which I knew, instinctively, to + mean that he was thinking of his wife. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Harley,” he said, speaking in a very low tone which scorned to + accentuate the beauty of his voice, “I have suffered much in the quest of + truth. Suffering is the gate beyond which we find compassion. Perhaps you + have thought my foregoing remarks frivolous, in view of the fact that last + night a soul was sent to its reckoning almost at my doors. I revere the + truth, however, above all lesser laws and above all expediency. I do not, + and I cannot, regret the end of the man Menendez. But for three reasons I + should regret to pay the penalty of a crime which I did not commit, These + reasons are—one,” he ticked them off upon his delicate fingers—“It + would be bitter to know that Devil Menendez even in death had injured me; + two—My work in the world, which is unfinished; and, three—My + wife.” + </p> + <p> + I watched and listened, almost awed by the strangeness of the man who sat + before me. His three reasons were illuminating. A casual observer might + have regarded Colin Camber as a monument of selfishness. But it was + evident to me, and I knew it must be evident to Paul Harley, that his + egotism was quite selfless. To a natural human resentment and a pathetic + love for his wife he had added, as an equal clause, the claim of the world + upon his genius. + </p> + <p> + “I have heard you,” said Paul Harley, quietly, “and you have led me to the + most important point of all.” + </p> + <p> + “What point is that, Mr. Harley?” + </p> + <p> + “You have referred to your recent lapse from abstemiousness. Excuse me if + I discuss personal matters. This you ascribed to domestic troubles, or so + Mr. Knox has informed me. You have also referred to your undisguised + hatred of the late Colonel Juan Menendez. I am going to ask you, Mr. + Camber, to tell me quite frankly what was the nature of those domestic + troubles, and what had caused this hatred which survives even the death of + its object?” + </p> + <p> + Colin Camber stood up, angular, untidy, but a figure of great dignity. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Harley,” he replied, “I cannot answer your questions.” + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley inclined his head gravely. + </p> + <p> + “May I suggest,” he said, “that you will be called upon to do so under + circumstances which will brook no denial.” + </p> + <p> + Colin Camber watched him unflinchingly. + </p> + <p> + “‘The fate of every man is hung around his neck,’” he replied. + </p> + <p> + “Yet, in this secret history which you refuse to divulge, and which + therefore must count against you, the truth may lie which exculpates you.” + </p> + <p> + “It may be so. But my determination remains unaltered.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” answered Paul Harley, quietly, but I could see that he was + exercising a tremendous restraint upon himself. “I respect your decision, + but you have given me a giant’s task, and for this I cannot thank you, Mr. + Camber.” + </p> + <p> + I heard a car pulled up in the road outside the Guest House. Colin Camber + clenched his hands and sat down again in the carved chair. + </p> + <p> + “The opportunity has passed,” said Harley. “The police are here.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIII. INSPECTOR AYLESBURY CROSS-EXAMINES + </h2> + <p> + “Oh, I see,” said Inspector Aylesbury, “a little private confab, eh?” + </p> + <p> + He sank his chin into its enveloping folds, treating Harley and myself + each to a stare of disapproval. + </p> + <p> + “These gentlemen very kindly called to advise me of the tragic occurrence + at Cray’s Folly,” explained Colin Camber. “Won’t you be seated, + Inspector?” + </p> + <p> + “Thanks, but I can conduct my examination better standing.” + </p> + <p> + He turned to Paul Harley. + </p> + <p> + “Might I ask, Mr. Harley,” he said, “what concern this is of yours?” + </p> + <p> + “I am naturally interested in anything appertaining to the death of a + client, Inspector Aylesbury.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, so you slip in ahead of me, having deliberately withheld information + from the police, and think you are going to get all the credit. Is that + it?” + </p> + <p> + “That is it, Inspector,” replied Harley, smiling. “An instance of + professional jealousy.” + </p> + <p> + “Professional jealousy?” cried the Inspector. “Allow me to remind you that + you have no official standing in this case whatever. You are merely a + member of the public, nothing more, nothing less.” + </p> + <p> + “I am happy to be recognized as a member of that much-misunderstood body.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, well, we shall see. Now, Mr. Camber, your attention, please.” + </p> + <p> + He raised his finger impressively. + </p> + <p> + “I am informed by Miss Beverley that the late Colonel Menendez looked upon + you as a dangerous enemy.” + </p> + <p> + “Were those her exact words?” I murmured. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Knox!” + </p> + <p> + The inspector turned rapidly, confronting me. “I have already warned your + friend. But if I have any interruptions from you, I will have you + removed.” + </p> + <p> + He continued to glare at me for some moments, and then, turning again to + Colin Camber: + </p> + <p> + “I say, I have information that Colonel Menendez looked upon you as a + dangerous neighbour.” + </p> + <p> + “In that event,” replied Colin Camber, “why did he lease an adjoining + property?” + </p> + <p> + “That’s an evasion, sir. Answer my first question, if you please.” + </p> + <p> + “You have asked me no question, Inspector.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I see. That’s your attitude, is it? Very well, then. Were you, or + were you not, an enemy of the late Colonel Menendez?” + </p> + <p> + “I was.” + </p> + <p> + “What’s that?” + </p> + <p> + “I say I was. I hated him, and I hate him no less in death than I hated + him living.” + </p> + <p> + I think that I had never seen a man so taken aback, Inspector Aylesbury, + drawing out a large handkerchief blew his nose. Replacing the + handkerchief, he produced a note-book. + </p> + <p> + “I am placing that statement on record, sir,” he said. + </p> + <p> + He made an entry in the book, and then: + </p> + <p> + “Where did you first meet Colonel Menendez?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “I never met him in my life.” + </p> + <p> + “What’s that?” + </p> + <p> + Colin Camber merely shrugged his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “I will repeat my question,” said the Inspector, pompously. “Where did you + first meet Colonel Juan Menendez?” + </p> + <p> + “I have answered you, Inspector.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I see. You decline to answer that question. Very well, I will make a + note of this.” He did so. “And now,” said he, “what were you doing at + midnight last night?” + </p> + <p> + “I was writing.” + </p> + <p> + “Where?” + </p> + <p> + “Here.” + </p> + <p> + “What happened?” + </p> + <p> + Very succinctly Colin Camber repeated the statement which he had already + made to Paul Harley, and, at its conclusion: + </p> + <p> + “Send for the man, Ah Tsong,” directed Inspector Aylesbury. + </p> + <p> + Colin Camber inclined his head, clapped his bands, and silently Ah Tsong + entered. + </p> + <p> + The Inspector stared at him for several moments as a visitor to the Zoo + might stare at some rare animal; then: + </p> + <p> + “Your name is Ah Tsong?” he began. + </p> + <p> + “Ah Tsong,” murmured the Chinaman. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to ask you to give an exact account of your movements last + night.” + </p> + <p> + “No sabby.” + </p> + <p> + Inspector Aylesbury cleared his throat. + </p> + <p> + “I say I wish to know exactly what you did last night. Answer me.” + </p> + <p> + Ah Tseng’s face remained quite expressionless, and: + </p> + <p> + “No sabby,” he repeated. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I see,” said the Inspector, “This witness refuses to answer at all.” + </p> + <p> + “You are wrong,” explained Colin Camber, quietly. “Ah Tsong is a Chinaman, + and his knowledge of English is very limited. He does not understand you.” + </p> + <p> + “He understood my first question. You can’t draw wool over my eyes. He + knows well enough. Are you going to answer me?” he demanded, angrily, of + the Chinaman. + </p> + <p> + “No sabby, master,” he said, glancing aside at Colin Camber. “Number-one + p’licee-man gotchee no pidgin.” + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley was leisurely filling his pipe, and: + </p> + <p> + “If you think the evidence of Ah Tsong important, Inspector,” he said, “I + will interpret if you wish.” + </p> + <p> + “You will do what?” + </p> + <p> + “I will act as interpreter.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you want me to believe that you speak Chinese?” + </p> + <p> + “Your beliefs do not concern me, Inspector; I am merely offering my + services.” + </p> + <p> + “Thanks,” said the Inspector, dryly, “but I won’t trouble you. I should + like a few words with Mrs. Camber.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good.” + </p> + <p> + Colin Camber bent his head gravely, and gave an order to Ah Tsong, who + turned and went out. + </p> + <p> + “And what firearms have you in the house?” asked Inspector Aylesbury. + </p> + <p> + “An early Dutch arquebus, which you see in the corner,” was the reply. + </p> + <p> + “That doesn’t interest me. I mean up-to-date weapons.” + </p> + <p> + “And a Colt revolver which I have in a drawer here.” + </p> + <p> + As he spoke, Colin Camber opened a drawer in his desk and took out a heavy + revolver of the American Army Service pattern. + </p> + <p> + “I should like to examine it, if you please.” + </p> + <p> + Camber passed it to the Inspector, and the latter, having satisfied + himself that none of the chambers were loaded, peered down the barrel, and + smelled at the weapon suspiciously. + </p> + <p> + “If it has been recently used it has been well cleaned,” he said, and + placed it on a cabinet beside him. “Anything else?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “No sporting rifles?” + </p> + <p> + “None. I never shoot.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I see.” + </p> + <p> + The door opened and Mrs. Camber came in. She was very simply dressed, and + looked even more child-like than she had seemed before. I think Ah Tsong + had warned her of the nature of the ordeal which she was to expect, but + her wide-eyed timidity was nevertheless pathetic to witness. + </p> + <p> + She glanced at me with a ghost of a smile, and: + </p> + <p> + “Ysola,” said Colin Camber, inclining his head toward me in a grave + gesture of courtesy, “Mr. Knox has generously forgiven me a breach of good + manners for which I shall never forgive myself. I beg you to thank him, as + I have done.” + </p> + <p> + “It is so good of you,” she said, sweetly, and held out her hand. “But I + knew you would understand that it was just a great mistake.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Paul Harley,” Camber continued, “my wife welcomes you; and this, + Ysola, is Inspector Aylesbury, who desires a few moments’ conversation + upon a rather painful matter.” + </p> + <p> + “I have heard, I have heard,” she whispered. “Ah Tsong has told me.” + </p> + <p> + The pupils of her eyes dilated, as she fixed an appealing glance upon the + Inspector. + </p> + <p> + In justice to the latter he was palpably abashed by the delicate beauty of + the girl who stood before him, by her naivete, and by that childishness of + appearance and manner which must have awakened the latent chivalry in + almost any man’s heart. + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry to have to trouble you with this disagreeable business, Mrs. + Camber,” he began; “but I believe you were awakened last night by the + sound of a shot.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she replied, watching him intently, “that is so.” + </p> + <p> + “May I ask at what time this was heard?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah Tsong told me it was after twelve o’clock.” + </p> + <p> + “Was the sound a loud one?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. It must have been to have awakened me.” + </p> + <p> + “I see. Did you think it was in the house?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no.” + </p> + <p> + “In the garden?” + </p> + <p> + “I really could not say, but I think that it was farther away than that.” + </p> + <p> + “And what did you do?” + </p> + <p> + “I rang the bell for Ah Tsong.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he come immediately?” + </p> + <p> + “Almost immediately.” + </p> + <p> + “He was dressed, then?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I don’t think he was. He had quickly put on an overcoat. He usually + answers at once, when I ring for him, you see.” + </p> + <p> + “I see. What did you do then?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I was frightened, you understand, and I told him to find out if all + was well with my husband. He came back and told me that Colin was writing. + But the sound had alarmed me very much.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, and now perhaps <i>you</i> will tell me, Mrs. Camber, when and where + your husband first met Colonel Menendez?” + </p> + <p> + Every vestige of colour fled from the girl’s face. + </p> + <p> + “So far as I know—they never met,” she replied, haltingly. + </p> + <p> + “Could you swear to that?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + I think that hitherto she had not fully realized the nature of the + situation; but now something in the Inspector’s voice, or perhaps in our + glances, told her the truth. She moved to where Colin Camber was sitting, + looking down at him questioningly, pitifully. He put his arm about her and + drew her close. + </p> + <p> + Inspector Aylesbury cleared his throat and returned his note-book to his + pocket. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to take a look around the garden,” he announced. + </p> + <p> + My respect for him increased slightly, and Harley and I followed him out + of the study. A police sergeant was sitting in the hall, and Ah Tsong was + standing just outside the door. + </p> + <p> + “Show me the way to the garden,” directed the Inspector. + </p> + <p> + Ah Tsong stared stupidly, whereupon Paul Harley addressed him in his + native language, rapidly and in a low voice, in order, as I divined, that + the Inspector should not hear him. + </p> + <p> + “I feel dreadfully guilty, Knox,” he confessed, in a murmured aside. “For + any Englishman, fictitious characters excepted, to possess a knowledge of + Chinese is almost indecent.” + </p> + <p> + Presently, then, I found myself once more in that unkempt garden of which + I retained such unpleasant memories. + </p> + <p> + Inspector Aylesbury stared all about and up at the back of the house, + humming to himself and generally behaving as though he were alone. Before + the little summer study he stood still, and: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I see,” he muttered. + </p> + <p> + What he had seen was painfully evident. The right-hand window, beneath + which there was a permanent wooden seat, commanded an unobstructed view of + the Tudor garden in the grounds of Cray’s Folly. Clearly I could detect + the speck of high-light upon the top of the sun-dial. + </p> + <p> + The Inspector stepped into the hut. It contained a bookshelf upon which a + number of books remained, a table and a chair, with some few other + dilapidated appointments. I glanced at Harley and saw that he was staring + as if hypnotized at the prospect in the valley below. I observed a + constable on duty at the top of the steps which led down into the Tudor + garden, but I could see nothing to account for Harley’s fixed regard, + until: + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me one moment, Inspector,” he muttered, brusquely. + </p> + <p> + Brushing past the indignant Aylesbury, who was examining the contents of + the shelves in the hut, he knelt upon the wooden seat and stared intently + through the open window. + </p> + <p> + “One-two-three-four-five-six-<i>seven</i>,” he chanted. “Good! That will + settle it.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I see,” said Inspector Aylesbury, standing strictly upright, his + prominent eyes turned in the direction of the kneeling Harley. “One, two, + three, four, and so on will settle it, eh? If you don’t mind me saying so, + it was settled already.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” replied Harley, standing up, and I saw that his eyes were very + bright and that his face was slightly flushed. “You think the case is so + simple as that?” + </p> + <p> + “Simple?” exclaimed the Inspector. “It’s the most cunning thing that was + ever planned, but I flatter myself that I have a good straight eye which + can see a fairly long way.” + </p> + <p> + “Excellent,” murmured Harley. “I congratulate you. Myopia is so common in + the present generation. You have decided, of course, that the murder was + committed by Ah Tsong?” + </p> + <p> + Inspector Aylesbury’s eyes seemed to protrude extraordinarily. + </p> + <p> + “Ah Tsong!” he exclaimed. “Ah Tsong!” + </p> + <p> + “Surely it is palpable,” continued Harley, “that of the three people + residing in the Guest House, Ah Tsong is the only one who could possibly + have done the deed.” + </p> + <p> + “Who could possibly—who could possibly——” stuttered the + Inspector, then paused because of sheer lack of words. + </p> + <p> + “Review the evidence,” continued Harley, coolly. “Mrs. Camber was awakened + by the sound of a shot. She immediately rang for Ah Tsong. There was a + short interval before Ah Tsong appeared—and when he did appear he + was wearing an overcoat. Note this point, Inspector: wearing an overcoat. + He descended to the study and found Mr. Camber writing. Now, Ah Tsong + sleeps in a room adjoining the kitchen on the ground floor. We passed his + quarters on our way to the garden a moment ago. Of course, you had noted + this? Mr. Camber is therefore eliminated from our list of suspects.” + </p> + <p> + The Inspector was growing very red, but ere he had time to speak Harley + continued: + </p> + <p> + “The first of these three persons to have heard a shot fired at the end of + the garden would have been Ah Tsong, and not Mrs. Camber, whose room is + upstairs and in the front of the house. If it had been fired by Mr. Camber + from the spot upon which we now stand, he would still have been in the + garden at the moment when Mrs. Camber was ringing the bell for Ah Tsong. + Mr. Camber must therefore have returned from the end of the garden to the + study, and have passed Ah Tsong’s room—unheard by the occupant—between + the time that the bell rang and the time that Ah Tsong went upstairs. This + I submit to be impossible. There is an alternative: it is that he slipped + in whilst Ah Tsong, standing on the landing above, was receiving his + mistress’s orders. I submit that the alternative is also impossible. We + thus eliminate Mr. Camber from the case, as I have already mentioned.” + </p> + <p> + “Eliminate—eliminate!” cried the Inspector, beginning to recover + power of speech. “Do you think you can fuddle me with a mass of words, Mr. + Harley? Allow me to point out to you, sir, that you are in no way + officially associated with this matter.” + </p> + <p> + “You have already drawn my attention to the fact, Inspector, but it can do + no harm to jog my memory.” + </p> + <p> + Harley spoke entirely without bitterness, and I, who knew his every mood, + realized that he was thoroughly enjoying himself. Therefore I knew that at + last he had found a clue. + </p> + <p> + “I may add, Inspector,” said he, “that upon further reflection I have also + eliminated Ah Tsong from the case. I forgot to mention that he lacks the + first and second fingers of his right hand; and I have yet to meet the + marksman who can shoot a man squarely between the eyes, by moonlight, at a + hundred yards, employing his third finger as trigger-finger. There are + other points, but these will be sufficient to show you that this case is + more complicated than you had assumed it to be.” + </p> + <p> + Inspector Aylesbury did not deign to reply, or could not trust himself to + do so. He turned and made his way back to the house. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIV. AN OFFICIAL MOVE + </h2> + <p> + We reëntered the study to find Mrs. Camber sitting in a chair very close + to her husband. Inspector Aylesbury stood in the open doorway for a + moment, and then, stepping back into the hall: + </p> + <p> + “Sergeant Butler,” he said, addressing the man who waited there. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Go out to the gate and get Edson to relieve you. I shall want you to go + back to headquarters in a few minutes.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good, sir.” + </p> + <p> + I scented what was coming, and as Inspector Aylesbury reentered the room: + </p> + <p> + “I should like to make a statement,” announced Paul Harley, quietly. + </p> + <p> + The Inspector frowned, and lowering his chin, regarded him with little + favour. + </p> + <p> + “I have not invited any statement from you, Mr. Harley,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “Quite,” returned Harley. “I am volunteering it. It is this: I gather that + you are about to take an important step officially. Having in view certain + steps which I, also, am about to take, I would ask you to defer action, + purely in your own interests, for at least twenty-four hours.” + </p> + <p> + “I hear you,” said the Inspector, sarcastically. + </p> + <p> + “Very well, Inspector. You have come newly into this case, and I assure + you that its apparent simplicity is illusive. As new facts come into your + possession you will realize that what I say is perfectly true, and if you + act now you will be acting hastily. All that I have learned I am prepared + to place at your disposal. But I predict that the interference of Scotland + Yard will be necessary before this enquiry is concluded. Therefore I + suggest, since you have rejected my cooperation, that you obtain that of + Detective Inspector Wessex, of the Criminal Investigation Department. In + short, this is no one-man job. You will do yourself harm by jumping to + conclusions, and cause unnecessary trouble to perfectly innocent people.” + </p> + <p> + “Is your statement concluded?” asked the Inspector. + </p> + <p> + “For the moment I have nothing to add.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I see. Very good. Then we can now get to business. Always with your + permission, Mr. Harley.” + </p> + <p> + He took his stand before the fireplace, very erect, and invested with his + most official manner. Mrs. Camber watched him in a way that was pathetic. + Camber seemed to be quite composed, although his face was unusually pale. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Mr. Camber,” said the Inspector, “I find your answers to the + questions which I have put to you very unsatisfactory.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry,” said Colin Camber, quietly. + </p> + <p> + “One moment, Inspector,” interrupted Paul Harley, “you have not warned Mr. + Camber.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon the long-repressed wrath of Inspector Aylesbury burst forth. + </p> + <p> + “Then I will warn <i>you</i>, sir!” he shouted. “One more word and you + leave this house.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet I am going to venture on one more word,” continued Harley, + unperturbed. He turned to Colin Camber. “I happen to be a member of the + Bar, Mr. Camber,” he said, “although I rarely accept a brief. Have I your + authority to act for you?” + </p> + <p> + “I am grateful, Mr. Harley, and I leave this unpleasant affair in your + hands with every confidence.” + </p> + <p> + Camber stood up, bowing formally. + </p> + <p> + The expression upon the inflamed face of Inspector Aylesbury was really + indescribable, and recognizing his mental limitations, I was almost + tempted to feel sorry for him. However, he did not lack self-confidence, + and: + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you have scored, Mr. Harley,” he said, a certain hoarseness + perceptible in his voice, “but I know my duty and I am not afraid to + perform it. Now, Mr. Camber, did you, or did you not, at about twelve + o’clock last night——” + </p> + <p> + “Warn the accused,” murmured Harley. + </p> + <p> + Inspector Aylesbury uttered a choking sound, but: + </p> + <p> + “I have to warn you,” he said, “that your answers may be used as evidence. + I will repeat: Did you, or did you not, at about twelve o’clock last + night, shoot, with intent to murder, Colonel Juan Menendez?” + </p> + <p> + Ysola Camber leapt up, clutching at her husband’s arm as if to hold him + back. + </p> + <p> + “I did not,” he replied, quietly. + </p> + <p> + “Nevertheless,” continued the Inspector, looking aggressively at Paul + Harley whilst he spoke, “I am going to detain you pending further + enquiries.” + </p> + <p> + Colin Camber inclined his head. + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” he said; “you only do your duty.” + </p> + <p> + The little fingers clutching his sleeve slowly relaxed, and Mrs. Camber, + uttering a long sigh, sank in a swoon at his feet. + </p> + <p> + “Ysola! Ysola!” he muttered. Stooping he raised the child-like figure. “If + you will kindly open the door, Mr. Knox,” he said, “I will carry my wife + to her room.” + </p> + <p> + I sprang to the door and held it widely open. + </p> + <p> + Colin Camber, deadly pale, but holding his head very erect, walked in the + direction of the hallway with his pathetic burden. Mis-reading the purpose + written upon the stern white face, Inspector Aylesbury stepped forward. + </p> + <p> + “Let someone else attend to Mrs. Camber,” he cried, sharply. “I wish you + to remain here.” + </p> + <p> + His detaining hand was already upon Camber’s shoulder when Harley’s arm + shot out like a barrier across the Inspector’s chest, and Colin Camber + proceeded on his way. Momentarily, he glanced aside, and I saw that his + eyes were unnaturally bright. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Mr. Harley,” he said, and carried his wife from the room. + </p> + <p> + Harley dropped his arm, and crossing, stood staring out of the window. + Inspector Aylesbury ran heavily to the door. + </p> + <p> + “Sergeant!” he called, “Sergeant! keep that man in sight. He must return + here immediately.” + </p> + <p> + I heard the sound of heavy footsteps following Camber’s up the stairs, + then Inspector Aylesbury turned, a bulky figure in the open doorway, and: + </p> + <p> + “Now, Mr. Harley,” said he, entering and reclosing the door, “you are a + barrister, I understand. Very well, then, I suppose you are aware that you + have resisted and obstructed an officer of the law in the execution of his + duty.” + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley spun round upon his heel. + </p> + <p> + “Is that a charge,” he inquired, “or merely a warning?” + </p> + <p> + The two glared at one another for a moment, then: + </p> + <p> + “From now onward,” continued the Inspector, “I am going to have no more + trouble with you, Mr. Harley. In the first place, I’ll have you looked up + in the Law List; in the second place, I shall ask you to stick to your + proper duties, and leave me to look after mine.” + </p> + <p> + “I have endeavoured from the outset,” replied Harley, his good humour + quite restored, “to assist you in every way in my power. You have declined + all my offers, and finally, upon the most flimsy evidence, you have + detained a perfectly innocent man.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I see. A perfectly innocent man, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly innocent, Inspector. There are so many points that you have + overlooked. For instance, do you seriously suppose that Mr. Camber had + been waiting up here night after night on the off-chance that Colonel + Menendez would appear in the grounds of Cray’s Folly?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I don’t. I have got that worked out.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed? You interest me.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Camber has an accomplice at Cray’s Folly.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” exclaimed Harley, and into his keen grey eyes crept a look of real + interest. + </p> + <p> + “He has an accomplice,” repeated the Inspector. “A certain witness was + strangely reluctant to mention Mr. Camber’s name. It was only after very + keen examination that I got it at last. Now, Colonel Menendez had not + retired last night, neither had a certain other party. That other party, + sir, knows why Colonel Menendez was wandering about the garden at + midnight.” + </p> + <p> + At first, I think, this astonishing innuendo did not fully penetrate to my + mind, but when it did so, it seemed to galvanize me. Springing up from the + chair in which I had been seated: + </p> + <p> + “You preposterous fool!” I exclaimed, hotly. + </p> + <p> + It was the last straw. Inspector Aylesbury strode to the door and throwing + it open once more, turned to me: + </p> + <p> + “Be good enough to leave the house, Mr. Knox,” he said. “I am about to + have it officially searched, and I will have no strangers present.” + </p> + <p> + I think I could have strangled him with pleasure, but even in my rage I + was not foolhardy enough to lay myself open to that of which the Inspector + was quite capable at this moment. + </p> + <p> + Without another word I walked out of the study, took my hat and stick, and + opening the front door, quitted the Guest House, from which I had thus a + second time been dismissed ignominiously. + </p> + <p> + Appreciation of this fact, which came to me as I stepped into the porch, + awakened my sense of humour—a gift truly divine which has saved many + a man from desperation or worse. I felt like a schoolboy who had been + turned out of a class-room, and I was glad that I could laugh at myself. + </p> + <p> + A constable was standing in the porch, and he looked at me suspiciously. + No doubt he perceived something very sardonic in my merriment. + </p> + <p> + I walked out of the gate, before which a car was standing, and as I paused + to light a cigarette I heard the door of the Guest House open and close. I + glanced back, and there was Paul Harley coming to join me. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Knox,” he said, briskly, “we have got our hands full.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Harley, I am both angry and bewildered. Too angry and too + bewildered to think clearly.” + </p> + <p> + “I can quite understand it. I should become homicidal if I were forced to + submit for long to the company of Inspector Aylesbury. Of course, I had + anticipated the arrest of Colin Camber, and I fear there is worse to + come.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean, Harley?” + </p> + <p> + “I mean that failing the apprehension of the real murderer, I cannot see, + at the moment, upon what the case for the defence is to rest.” + </p> + <p> + “But surely you demonstrated out there in the garden that he could not + possibly have fired the shot?” + </p> + <p> + “Words, Knox, words. I could pick a dozen loopholes in my own argument. I + had only hoped to defer the inevitable. I tell you, there is worse to + come. Two things we must do at once.” + </p> + <p> + “What are they?” + </p> + <p> + “We must persuade the man on duty to allow us to examine the Tudor garden, + and we must see the Chief Constable, whoever he may be, and prevail upon + him to requisition the assistance of Scotland Yard. With Wessex in charge + of the case I might have a chance. Whilst this disastrous man Aylesbury + holds the keys there is none.” + </p> + <p> + “You heard what he said about Miss Beverley?” + </p> + <p> + We were now walking rapidly along the high road, and Harley nodded. + </p> + <p> + “I did,” he said. “I had expected it. He was inspired with this brilliant + idea last night, and his ideas are too few to be lightly scrapped. If the + Chief Constable is anything like the Inspector, what we are going to do + heaven only knows.” + </p> + <p> + “I take it, Harley, that you are convinced of Colin Camber’s innocence?” + </p> + <p> + Harley did not answer for a moment, whereupon I glanced at him anxiously, + then: + </p> + <p> + “Colin Camber,” he replied, “is of so peculiar a type that I could not + presume to say of what he is capable or is not capable. The most + significant point in his favour is this: He is a man of unusual intellect. + The planning of this cunning crime to such a man would have been child’s + play—child’s play, Knox. But is it possible to believe that his + genius would have failed him upon the most essential detail of all, + namely, an alibi?” + </p> + <p> + “It is not.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course it is not. Which, continuing to regard Camber as an assassin, + reduces us to the theory that the crime was committed in a moment of + passion. This I maintain to be also impossible. It was no deed of + impulse.” + </p> + <p> + “I agree with you.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, I believe that the enquiry is going to turn upon a very delicate + point. If I am wrong in this, then perhaps I am wrong in my whole + conception of the case. But have you considered the mass of evidence + against Colin Camber?” + </p> + <p> + “I have, Harley,” I replied, sadly, “I have.” + </p> + <p> + “Think of all that we know, and which the Inspector does not know. Every + single datum points in the same direction. No prosecution could ask for a + more perfect case. Upon this fact I pin my hopes. Where an Aylesbury + rushes in I fear to tread. The analogy with an angel was accidental, + Knox!” he added, smilingly. “In other words, it is all too obvious. Yet I + have failed once, Knox, failed disastrously, and it may be that in my + anxiety to justify myself I am seeking for subtlety where no subtlety + exists.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXV. AYLESBURY’S THEORY + </h2> + <p> + There were strangers about Cray’s Folly and a sort of furtive activity, + horribly suggestive. We had not pursued the circular route by the high + road which would have brought us to the lodge, but had turned aside where + the swing-gate opened upon a footpath into the meadows. It was the path + which I had pursued upon the day of my visit to the Lavender Arms. A + second private gate here gave access to the grounds at a point directly + opposite the lake; and as we crossed the valley, making for the terraced + lawns, I saw unfamiliar figures upon the veranda, and knew that the + cumbersome processes of the law were already in motion. + </p> + <p> + I was longing to speak to Val Beverley and to learn what had taken place + during her interview with Inspector Aylesbury, but Harley led the way + toward the tower wing, and by a tortuous path through the rhododendrons we + finally came out on the northeast front and in sight of the Tudor garden. + </p> + <p> + Harley crossed to the entrance, and was about to descend the steps, when + the constable on duty there held out his arm. + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me, sir,” he said, “but I have orders to admit no one to this part + of the garden.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said Harley, pulling up short, “but I am acting in this case. My + name is Paul Harley.” + </p> + <p> + “Sorry, sir,” replied the constable, “but you will have to see Inspector + Aylesbury.” + </p> + <p> + My friend uttered an impatient exclamation, but, turning aside: + </p> + <p> + “Very well, constable,” he muttered; “I suppose I must submit. Our friend, + Aylesbury,” he added to me, as we walked away, “would appear to be a + martinet as well as a walrus. At every step, Knox, he proves himself a + tragic nuisance. This means waste of priceless time.” + </p> + <p> + “What had you hoped to do, Harley?” + </p> + <p> + “Prove my theory,” he returned; “but since every moment is precious, I + must move in another direction.” + </p> + <p> + He hurried on through the opening in the box hedge and into the courtyard. + Manoel had just opened the doors to a sepulchral-looking person who proved + to be the coroner’s officer, and: + </p> + <p> + “Manoel!” cried Harley, “tell Carter to bring a car round at once.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “I haven’t time to fetch my own,” he explained. + </p> + <p> + “Where are you off to?” + </p> + <p> + “I am off to see the Chief Constable, Knox. Aylesbury must be superseded + at whatever cost. If the Chief Constable fails I shall not hesitate to go + higher. I will get along to the garage. I don’t expect to be more than an + hour. Meanwhile, do your best to act as a buffer between Aylesbury and the + women. You understand me?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite,” I returned, shortly. “But the task may prove no light one, + Harley.” + </p> + <p> + “It won’t,” he assured me, smiling grimly. “How you must regret, Knox, + that we didn’t go fishing!” + </p> + <p> + With that he was off, eager-eyed and alert, the mood of dreamy abstraction + dropped like a cloak discarded. He fully realized, as I did, that his + unique reputation was at stake. I wondered, as I had wondered at the Guest + House, whether, in undertaking to clear Colin Camber, he had acted upon + sheer conviction, or, embittered by the death of his client, had taken a + gambler’s chance. It was unlike him to do so. But now beyond reach of that + charm of manner which Colin Camber possessed, and discounting the pathetic + sweetness of his girl-wife, I realized how black was the evidence against + him. + </p> + <p> + Occupied with these, and even more troubled thoughts, I was making my way + toward the library, undetermined how to act, when I saw Val Beverley + coming along the corridor which communicated with Madame de Stämer’s room. + </p> + <p> + I read a welcome in her eyes which made my heart beat the faster. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Mr. Knox,” she cried, “I am so glad you have returned. Tell me all + that has happened, for I feel in some way that I am responsible for it.” + </p> + <p> + I nodded gravely. + </p> + <p> + “You know, then, where Inspector Aylesbury went when he left here, after + his interview with you?” + </p> + <p> + She looked at me pathetically. + </p> + <p> + “He went to the Guest House, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” I said; “he was close behind us.” + </p> + <p> + “And”—she hesitated—“Mr. Camber?” + </p> + <p> + “He has been detained.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” she moaned. “I could hate myself! Yet what could I say, what could I + do?” + </p> + <p> + “Just tell me all about it,” I urged. “What were the Inspector’s + questions?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” explained the girl, “he had evidently learned from someone, + presumably one of the servants, that there was enmity between Mr. Camber + and Colonel Menendez. He asked me if I knew of this, and of course I had + to admit that I did. But when I told him that I had no idea of its cause, + he did not seem to believe me.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” I murmured. “Any evidence which fails to dove-tail with his + preconceived theories he puts down as a lie.” + </p> + <p> + “He seemed to have made up his mind for some reason,” she continued, “that + I was intimately acquainted with Mr. Camber. Whereas, of course, I have + never spoken to him in my life, although whenever he has passed me in the + road he has always saluted me with quite delightful courtesy. Oh, Mr. + Knox, it is horrible to think of this great misfortune coming to those + poor people.” She looked at me pleadingly. “How did his wife take it?” + </p> + <p> + “Poor little girl,” I replied, “it was an awful blow.” + </p> + <p> + “I feel that I want to set out this very minute,” declared Val Beverley, + “and go to her, and try to comfort her. Because I feel in my very soul + that her husband is innocent. She is such a sweet little thing. I have + wanted to speak to her since the very first time I ever saw her, but on + the rare occasions when we have met in the village she has hurried past as + though she were afraid of me. Mr. Harley surely knows that her husband is + not guilty?” + </p> + <p> + “I think he does,” I replied, “but he may have great difficulty in proving + it. And what else did Inspector Aylesbury wish to know?” + </p> + <p> + “How can I tell you?” she said in a low voice; and biting her lip + agitatedly she turned her head aside. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I can guess.” + </p> + <p> + “Can you?” she asked, looking at me quickly. “Well, then, he seemed to + attach a ridiculous importance to the fact that I had not retired last + night at the time of the tragedy.” + </p> + <p> + “I know,” said I, grimly. “Another preconceived idea of his.” + </p> + <p> + “I told him the truth of the matter, which is surely quite simple, and at + first I was unable to understand the nature of his suspicions. Then, after + a time, his questions enlightened me. He finally suggested, quite openly, + that I had not come down from my room to the corridor in which Madame de + Stämer was lying, but had actually been there at the time!” + </p> + <p> + “In the corridor outside her room?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. He seemed to think that I had just come in from the door near the + end of the east wing and beside the tower, which opens into the + shrubbery.” + </p> + <p> + “That you had just come in?” I exclaimed. “He thinks, then, that you had + been out in the grounds?” + </p> + <p> + Val Beverley’s face had been very pale, but now she flushed indignantly, + and glanced away from me as she replied: + </p> + <p> + “He dared to suggest that I had been to keep an assignation.” + </p> + <p> + “The fool!” I cried. “The ignorant, impudent fool!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” she declared, “I felt quite ill with indignation. I am afraid I may + regard Inspector Aylesbury as an enemy from now onward, for when I had + recovered from the shock I told him very plainly what I thought about his + intellect, or lack of it.” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad you did,” I said, warmly. “Before Inspector Aylesbury is + through with this business I fancy he will know more about his limitations + than he knows at present. The fact of the matter is that he is badly out + of his depth, but is not man enough to acknowledge the fact even to + himself.” + </p> + <p> + She smiled at me pathetically. + </p> + <p> + “Whatever should I have done if I had been alone?” she said. + </p> + <p> + I was tempted to direct the conversation into a purely personal channel, + but common sense prevailed, and: + </p> + <p> + “Is Madame de Stämer awake?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” The girl nodded. “Dr. Rolleston is with her now.” + </p> + <p> + “And does she know?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. She sent for me directly she awoke, and asked me.” + </p> + <p> + “And you told her?” + </p> + <p> + “How could I do otherwise? She was quite composed, wonderfully composed; + and the way she heard the news was simply heroic. But here is Dr. + Rolleston, coming now.” + </p> + <p> + I glanced along the corridor, and there was the physician approaching + briskly. + </p> + <p> + “Good morning, Mr. Knox,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Good morning, doctor. I hear that your patient is much improved?” + </p> + <p> + “Wonderfully so,” he answered. “She has enough courage for ten men. She + wishes to see you, Mr. Knox, and to hear your account of the tragedy.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think it would be wise?” + </p> + <p> + “I think it would be best.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you hold any hope of her permanently recovering the use of her limbs?” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Rolleston shook his head doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + “It may have only been temporary,” he replied. “These obscure nervous + affections are very fickle. It is unsafe to make predictions. But + mentally, at least, she is quite restored from the effects of last night’s + shock. You need apprehend no hysteria or anything of that nature, Mr. + Knox.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I see,” exclaimed a loud voice behind us. + </p> + <p> + We all three turned, and there was Inspector Aylesbury crossing the hall + in our direction. + </p> + <p> + “Good morning, Dr. Rolleston,” he said, deliberately ignoring my presence. + “I hear that your patient is quite well again this morning?” + </p> + <p> + “She is much improved,” returned the physician, dryly. + </p> + <p> + “Then I can get her testimony, which is most important to my case?” + </p> + <p> + “She is somewhat better. If she cares to see you I do not forbid the + interview.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that’s good of you, doctor.” He bowed to Miss Beverley. “Perhaps, + Miss, you would ask Madame de Stämer to see me for a few minutes.” + </p> + <p> + Val Beverley looked at me appealingly then shrugged her shoulders, turned + aside, and walked in the direction of Madame de Stämer’s door. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Dr. Rolleston, in his brisk way, shaking me by the hand, “I + must be getting along. Good morning, Mr. Knox. Good morning, Inspector + Aylesbury.” + </p> + <p> + He walked rapidly out to his waiting car. The presence of Inspector + Aylesbury exercised upon Dr. Rolleston a similar effect to that which a + red rag has upon a bull. As he took his departure, the Inspector drew out + his pocket-book, and, humming gently to himself, began to consult certain + entries therein, with a portentous air of reflection which would have been + funny if it had not been so irritating. + </p> + <p> + Thus we stood when Val Beverley returned, and: + </p> + <p> + “Madame de Stämer will see you, Inspector Aylesbury,” she said, “but + wishes Mr. Knox to be present at the interview.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said the Inspector, lowering his chin, “I see. Oh, very well.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVI. IN MADAME’S ROOM + </h2> + <p> + Madame de Stämer’s apartment was a large and elegant one. From the + window-drapings, which were of some light, figured satiny material, to the + bed-cover, the lampshades and the carpet, it was French. Faintly perfumed, + and decorated with many bowls of roses, it reflected, in its ornaments, + its pictures, its slender-legged furniture, the personality of the + occupant. In a large, high bed, reclining amidst a number of silken + pillows, lay Madame de Stämer. The theme of the room was violet and + silver, and to this everything conformed. The toilet service was of dull + silver and violet enamel. The mirrors and some of the pictures had dull + silver frames, There was nothing tawdry or glittering. The bed itself, + which I thought resembled a bed of state, was of the same dull silver, + with a coverlet of delicate violet I hue. But Madame’s décolleté robe was + trimmed with white fur, so that her hair, dressed high upon her head, + seemed to be of silver, too. + </p> + <p> + Reclining there upon her pillows, she looked like some grande dame of that + France which was swept away by the Revolution. Immediately above the + dressing-table I observed a large portrait of Colonel Menendez dressed as + I had imagined he should be dressed when I had first set eyes on him, in + tropical riding kit, and holding a broad-brimmed hat in his hand. A + strikingly handsome, arrogant figure he made, uncannily like the Velasquez + in the library. + </p> + <p> + At the face of Madame de Stämer I looked long and searchingly. She had not + neglected the art of the toilette. Blinds tempered the sunlight which + flooded her room; but that, failing the service of rouge, Madame had been + pale this morning, I perceived immediately. In some subtle way the night + had changed her. Something was gone out of her face, and something come + into it. I thought, and lived to remember the thought, that it was thus + Marie Antoinette might have looked when they told her how the drums had + rolled in the Place de la Revolution on that morning of the twenty-first + of January. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, M. Knox,” she said, sadly, “you are there, I see. Come and sit here + beside me, my friend. Val, dear, remain. Is this Inspector Aylesbury who + wishes to speak to me?” + </p> + <p> + The Inspector, who had entered with all the confidence in the world, + seemed to lose some of it in the presence of this grand lady, who was so + little impressed by the dignity of his office. + </p> + <p> + She waved one slender hand in the direction of a violet brocaded chair. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down, Monsieur l’inspecteur,” she commanded, for it was rather a + command than an invitation. + </p> + <p> + Inspector Aylesbury cleared his throat and sat down. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, M. Knox!” exclaimed Madame, turning to me with one of her rapid + movements, “is your friend afraid to face me, then? Does he think that he + has failed? Does he think that I condemn him?” + </p> + <p> + “He knows that he has failed, Madame de Stämer,” I replied, “but his + absence is due to the fact that at this hour he is hot upon the trail of + the assassin.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” she exclaimed, “what!”—and bending forward touched my arm. + “Tell me again! Tell me again!” + </p> + <p> + “He is following a clue, Madame de Stämer, which he hopes will lead to the + truth.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! if I could believe it would lead to the truth,” she said. “If I dared + to believe this.” + </p> + <p> + “Why should it not?” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head, smiling with such a resigned sadness that I averted my + gaze and glanced across at Val Beverley who was seated on the opposite + side of the bed. + </p> + <p> + “If you knew—if you knew.” + </p> + <p> + I looked again into the tragic face, and realized that this was an older + woman than the brilliant hostess I had known. She sighed, shrugged, and: + </p> + <p> + “Tell me, M. Knox,” she continued, “it was swift and merciful, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Instantaneous,” I replied, in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + “A good shot?” she asked, strangely. + </p> + <p> + “A wonderful shot,” I answered, thinking that she imposed unnecessary + torture upon herself. + </p> + <p> + “They say he must be taken away, M. Knox, but I reply: not until I have + seen him.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame,” began Val Beverley, gently. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, my dear!” Madame de Stämer, without looking at the speaker, extended + one hand in her direction, the fingers characteristically curled. “You do + not know me. Perhaps it is a good job. You are a man, Mr. Knox, and men, + especially men who write, know more of women than they know of themselves, + is it not so? You will understand that I must see him again?” + </p> + <p> + “Madame de Stämer,” I said, “your courage is almost terrible.” + </p> + <p> + She shrugged her shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “I am not proud to be brave, my friend. The animals are brave, but many + cowards are proud. Listen again. He suffered no pain, you think?” + </p> + <p> + “None, Madame de Stämer.” + </p> + <p> + “So Dr. Rolleston assures me. He died in his sleep? You do not think he + was awake, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Most certainly he was not awake.” + </p> + <p> + “It is the best way to die,” she said, simply. “Yet he, who was brave and + had faced death many times, would have counted it”——she + snapped her white fingers, glancing across the room to where Inspector + Aylesbury, very subdued, sat upon the brocaded chair twirling his cap + between his hands. “And now, Inspector Aylesbury,” she asked, “what is it + you wish me to tell you?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Madame,” began the Inspector, and stood up, evidently in an + endeavour to recover his dignity, but: + </p> + <p> + “Sit down, Mr. Inspector! I beg of you be seated,” cried Madame. “I will + not be questioned by one who stands. And if you were to walk about I + should shriek.” + </p> + <p> + He resumed his seat, clearing his throat nervously. + </p> + <p> + “Very well, Madame,” he continued, “I have come to you particularly for + information respecting a certain Mr. Camber.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes,” said Madame. + </p> + <p> + Her vibrant voice was very low. + </p> + <p> + “You know him, no doubt?” + </p> + <p> + “I have never met him.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” exclaimed the Inspector. + </p> + <p> + Madame shrugged and glanced at me eloquently. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he continued, “this gets more and more funny. I am told by Pedro, + the butler, that Colonel Menendez looked upon Mr. Camber as an enemy, and + Miss Beverley, here, admitted that it was true. Yet although he was an + enemy, nobody ever seems to have spoken to him, and he swears that he had + never spoken to Colonel Menendez.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” said Madame, listlessly, “is that so?” + </p> + <p> + “It is so, Madame, and now you tell me that you have never met him.” + </p> + <p> + “I did tell you so, yes.” + </p> + <p> + “His wife, then?” + </p> + <p> + “I never met his wife,” said Madame, rapidly. + </p> + <p> + “But it is a fact that Colonel Menendez regarded him as an enemy?” + </p> + <p> + “It is a fact-yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, now we are coming to it. What was the cause of this?” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot tell you.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean that you don’t know?” + </p> + <p> + “I mean that I cannot tell you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said the Inspector, blankly, “I see. That’s not helping me very + much, is it?” + </p> + <p> + “No, it is no help,” said Madame, twirling a ring upon her finger. + </p> + <p> + The Inspector cleared his throat again, then: + </p> + <p> + “There had been other attempts, I believe, at assassination?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + Madame nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Several.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you witness any of these?” + </p> + <p> + “None of them.” + </p> + <p> + “But you know that they took place?” + </p> + <p> + “Juan—Colonel Menendez—had told me so.” + </p> + <p> + “And he suspected that there was someone lurking about this house?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Also, someone broke in?” + </p> + <p> + “There were doors unfastened, and a great disturbance, so I suppose + someone must have done so.” + </p> + <p> + I wondered if he would refer to the bat wing nailed to the door, but he + had evidently decided that this clue was without importance, nor did he + once refer to the aspect of the case which concerned Voodoo. He possessed + a sort of mulish obstinacy, and was evidently determined to use no scrap + of information which he had obtained from Paul Harley. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Madame,” said he, “you heard the shot fired last night?” + </p> + <p> + “I did.” + </p> + <p> + “It woke you up?” + </p> + <p> + “I was already awake.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I see: you were awake?” + </p> + <p> + “I was awake.” + </p> + <p> + “Where did you think the sound came from?” + </p> + <p> + “From back yonder, beyond the east wing.” + </p> + <p> + “Beyond the east wing?” muttered Inspector Aylesbury. “Now, let me see.” + He turned ponderously in his chair, gazing out of the windows. “We look + out on the south here? You say the sound of the shot came from the east?” + </p> + <p> + “So it seemed to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh.” This piece of information seemed badly to puzzle him. “And what + then?” + </p> + <p> + “I was so startled that I ran to the door before I remembered that I could + not walk.” + </p> + <p> + She glanced aside at me with a tired smile, and laid her hand upon my arm + in an oddly caressing way, as if to say, “He is so stupid; I should not + have expressed myself in that way.” + </p> + <p> + Truly enough the Inspector misunderstood, for: + </p> + <p> + “I don’t follow what you mean, Madame,” he declared. “You say you forgot + that you could not walk?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, I expressed myself wrongly,” Madame replied in a weary voice. + “The fright, the terror, gave me strength to stagger to the door, and + there I fell and swooned.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I see. You speak of fright and terror. Were these caused by the sound + of the shot?” + </p> + <p> + “For some reason my cousin believed himself to be in peril,” explained + Madame. “He went in dread of assassination, you understand? Very well, he + caused me to feel this dread, also. When I heard the shot, something told + me, something told me that—” she paused, and suddenly placing her + hands before her face, added in a whisper—“that it had come.” + </p> + <p> + Val Beverley was watching Madame de Stämer anxiously, and the fact that + she was unfit to undergo further examination was so obvious that any other + than an Inspector Aylesbury would have withdrawn. The latter, however, + seemed now to be glued to his chair, and: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I see,” he said; “and now there’s another point: Have you any idea + what took Colonel Menendez out into the grounds last night?” + </p> + <p> + Madame de Stämer lowered her hands and gazed across at the speaker. + </p> + <p> + “What is that, Monsieur l’inspecteur?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you don’t think he might have gone out to talk to someone?” + </p> + <p> + “To someone? To what one?” demanded Madame, scornfully. + </p> + <p> + “Well, it isn’t natural for a man to go walking about the garden at + midnight, when he’s unwell, is it? Not alone. But if there was a lady in + the case he might go.” + </p> + <p> + “A lady?” said Madame, softly. “Yes—continue.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” resumed the Inspector, deceived by the soft voice, “the young lady + sitting beside you was still wearing her evening dress when I arrived here + last night. I found that out, although she didn’t give me a chance to see + her.” + </p> + <p> + His words had an effect more dramatic than he could have foreseen. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Stämer threw her arm around Val Beverley, and hugged her so + closely to her side that the girl’s curly brown head was pressed against + Madame’s shoulder. Thus holding her, she sat rigidly upright, her strange, + still eyes glaring across the room at Inspector Aylesbury. Her whole pose + was instinct with challenge, with defiance, and in that moment I + identified the illusive memory which the eyes of Madame so often had + conjured up in my mind. + </p> + <p> + Once, years before, I had seen a wounded tigress standing over her cubs, a + beautiful, fearless creature, blazing defiance with dying eyes upon those + who had destroyed her, the mother-instinct supreme to the last; for as she + fell to rise no more she had thrown her paw around the cowering cubs. It + was not in shape, nor in colour, but in expression and in their stillness, + that the eyes of Madame de Stämer resembled the eyes of the tigress. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Madame, Madame,” moaned the girl, “how dare he!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” Madame de Stämer raised her head yet higher, a royal gesture, that + unmoving stare set upon the face of the discomfited Inspector Aylesbury. + “Leave my apartment.” Her left hand shot out dramatically in the direction + of the door, but even yet the fingers remained curled. “Stupid, gross + fool!” + </p> + <p> + Inspector Aylesbury stood up, his face very flushed. + </p> + <p> + “I am only doing my duty, Madame,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Go, go!” commanded Madame, “I insist that you go!” + </p> + <p> + Convulsively she held Val Beverley to her side, and although I could not + see the girl’s face, I knew that she was weeping. + </p> + <p> + Those implacable flaming eyes followed with their stare the figure of the + Inspector right to the doorway, for he essayed no further speech, but + retired. + </p> + <p> + I, also, rose, and: + </p> + <p> + “Madame de Stämer,” I said, speaking, I fear, very unnaturally, “I love + your spirit.” + </p> + <p> + She threw back her head, smiling up at me. I shall never forget that look, + nor shall I attempt to portray all which it conveyed—for I know I + should fail. + </p> + <p> + “My friend!” she said, and extended her hand to be kissed. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVII. AN INSPIRATION + </h2> + <p> + Inspector Aylesbury had disappeared when I came out of the hall, but Pedro + was standing there to remind me of the fact that I had not breakfasted. I + realized that despite all tragic happenings, I was ravenously hungry, and + accordingly I agreed to his proposal that I should take breakfast on the + south veranda, as on the previous morning. + </p> + <p> + To the south veranda accordingly I made my way, rather despising myself + because I was capable of hunger at such a time and amidst such horrors. + The daily papers were on my table, for Carter drove into Market Hilton + every morning to meet the London train which brought them down; but I did + not open any of them. + </p> + <p> + Pedro waited upon me in person. I could see that the man was pathetically + anxious to talk. Accordingly, when he presently brought me a fresh supply + of hot rolls: + </p> + <p> + “This has been a dreadful blow to you, Pedro?” I said. + </p> + <p> + “Dreadful, sir,” he returned; “fearful. I lose a splendid master, I lose + my place, and I am far, far from home.” + </p> + <p> + “You are from Cuba?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes. I was with Señor the Colonel Don Juan in Cuba.” + </p> + <p> + “And do you know anything of the previous attempts which had been made + upon his life, Pedro?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing, sir. Nothing at all.” + </p> + <p> + “But the bat wing, Pedro?” + </p> + <p> + He looked at me in a startled way. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” he replied. “I found it pinned to the door here.” + </p> + <p> + “And what did you think it meant?” + </p> + <p> + “I thought it was a joke, sir—not a nice joke—by someone who + knew Cuba.” + </p> + <p> + “You know the meaning of Bat Wing, then?” + </p> + <p> + “It is Obeah. I have never seen it before, but I have heard of it.” + </p> + <p> + “And what did you think?” said I, proceeding with my breakfast. + </p> + <p> + “I thought it was meant to frighten.” + </p> + <p> + “But who did you think had done it?” + </p> + <p> + “I had heard Señor Don Juan say that Mr. Camber hated him, so I thought + perhaps he had sent someone to do it.” + </p> + <p> + “But why should Mr. Camber have hated the Colonel?” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot say, sir. I wish I could tell.” + </p> + <p> + “Was your master popular in the West Indies?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir—” Pedro hesitated—“perhaps not so well liked.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” I said. “I had gathered as much.” + </p> + <p> + The man withdrew, and I continued my solitary meal, listening to the song + of the skylarks, and thinking how complex was human existence, compared + with any other form of life beneath the sun. + </p> + <p> + How to employ my time until Harley should return I knew not. Common + delicacy dictated an avoidance of Val Beverley until she should have + recovered from the effect of Inspector Aylesbury’s gross insinuations, and + I was curiously disinclined to become involved in the gloomy formalities + which ensue upon a crime of violence. Nevertheless, I felt compelled to + remain within call, realizing that there might be unpleasant duties which + Pedro could not perform, and which must therefore devolve upon Val + Beverley. + </p> + <p> + I lighted my pipe and walked out on to the sloping lawn. A gardener was at + work with a big syringe, destroying a patch of weeds which had appeared in + one corner of the velvet turf. He looked up in a sort of startled way as I + passed, bidding me good morning, and then resuming his task. I thought + that this man’s activities were symbolic of the way of the world, in whose + eternal progression one poor human life counts as nothing. + </p> + <p> + Presently I came in sight of that door which opened into the rhododendron + shrubbery, the door by which Colonel Menendez had come out to meet his + death. His bedroom was directly above, and as I picked my way through the + closely growing bushes, which at an earlier time I had thought to be + impassable, I paused in the very shadow of the tower and glanced back and + upward. I could see the windows of the little smoke-room in which we had + held our last interview with Menendez; and I thought of the shadow which + Harley had seen upon the blind. I was unable to disguise from myself the + fact that when Inspector Aylesbury should learn of this occurrence, as + presently he must do, it would give new vigour to his ridiculous and + unpleasant suspicions. + </p> + <p> + I passed on, and considering the matter impartially, found myself faced by + the questions—Whose was the shadow which Harley had seen upon the + blind? And with what purpose did Colonel Menendez leave the house at + midnight? + </p> + <p> + Somnambulism might solve the second riddle, but to the first I could find + no answer acceptable to my reason. And now, pursuing my aimless way, I + presently came in sight of a gable of the Guest House. I could obtain a + glimpse of the hut which had once been Colin Camber’s workroom. The + window, through which Paul Harley had stared so intently, possessed + sliding panes. These were closed, and a ray of sunlight, striking upon the + glass, produced, because of an over-leaning branch which crossed the top + of the window, an effect like that of a giant eye glittering evilly + through the trees. I could see a constable moving about in the garden. + Ever and anon the sun shone upon the buttons of his tunic. + </p> + <p> + By such steps my thoughts led me on to the pathetic figure of Ysola + Camber. Save for the faithful Ah Tsong she was alone in that house to + which tragedy had come unbidden, unforeseen. I doubted if she had a woman + friend in all the countryside. Doubtless, I reflected, the old + housekeeper, to whom she had referred, would return as speedily as + possible, but pending the arrival of someone to whom she could confide all + her sorrows, I found it almost impossible to contemplate the loneliness of + the tragic little figure. + </p> + <p> + Such was my mental state, and my thoughts were all of compassion, when + suddenly, like a lurid light, an inspiration came to me. + </p> + <p> + I had passed out from the shadow of the tower and was walking in the + direction of the sentinel yews when this idea, dreadfully complete, leapt + to my mind. I pulled up short, as though hindered by a palpable barrier. + Vague musings, evanescent theories, vanished like smoke, and a ghastly, + consistent theory of the crime unrolled itself before me, with all the + cold logic of truth. + </p> + <p> + “My God!” I groaned aloud, “I see it all. I see it all.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVIII. MY THEORY OF THE CRIME + </h2> + <p> + The afternoon was well advanced before Paul Harley returned. + </p> + <p> + So deep was my conviction that I had hit upon the truth, and so well did + my theory stand every test which I could apply to it, that I felt + disinclined for conversation with any one concerned in the tragedy until I + should have submitted the matter to the keen analysis of Harley. Upon the + sorrow of Madame de Stämer I naturally did not intrude, nor did I seek to + learn if she had carried out her project of looking upon the dead man. + </p> + <p> + About mid-day the body was removed, after which an oppressive and awesome + stillness seemed to descend upon Cray’s Folly. + </p> + <p> + Inspector Aylesbury had not returned from his investigations at the Guest + House, and learning that Miss Beverley was remaining with Madame de + Stämer, I declined to face the ordeal of a solitary luncheon in the dining + room, and merely ate a few sandwiches, walking over to the Lavender Arms + for a glass of Mrs. Wootton’s excellent ale. + </p> + <p> + Here I found the bar-parlour full of local customers, and although a + heated discussion was in progress as I opened the door, silence fell upon + my appearance. Mrs. Wootton greeted me sadly. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, sir,” she said, as she placed a mug before me; “of course you’ve + heard?” + </p> + <p> + “I have, madam,” I replied, perceiving that she did not know me to be a + guest at Cray’s Folly. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well!” She shook her head. “It had to come, with all these foreign + folk about.” + </p> + <p> + She retired to some sanctum at the rear of the bar, and I drank my beer + amid one of those silences which sometimes descend upon such a gathering + when a stranger appears in its midst. Not until I moved to depart was this + silence broken, then: + </p> + <p> + “Ah, well,” said an old fellow, evidently a farm-hand, “we know now why he + was priming of hisself with the drink, we do.” + </p> + <p> + “Aye!” came a growling chorus. + </p> + <p> + I came out of the Lavender Arms full of a knowledge that so far as + Mid-Hatton was concerned, Colin Camber was already found guilty. + </p> + <p> + I had hoped to see something of Val Beverley on my return, but she + remained closeted with Madame de Stämer, and I was left in loneliness to + pursue my own reflections, and to perfect that theory which had presented + itself to my mind. + </p> + <p> + In Harley’s absence I had taken it upon myself to give an order to Pedro + to the effect that no reporters were to be admitted; and in this I had + done well. So quickly does evil news fly that, between mid-day and the + hour of Harley’s return, no fewer than five reporters, I believe, + presented themselves at Cray’s Folly. Some of the more persistent + continued to haunt the neighbourhood, and I had withdrawn to the deserted + library, in order to avoid observation, when I heard a car draw up in the + courtyard, and a moment later heard Harley asking for me. + </p> + <p> + I hurried out to meet him, and as I appeared at the door of the library: + </p> + <p> + “Hullo, Knox,” he called, running up the steps. “Any developments?” + </p> + <p> + “No actual development?” I replied, “except that several members of the + Press have been here.” + </p> + <p> + “You told them nothing?” he asked, eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “No; they were not admitted.” + </p> + <p> + “Good, good,” he muttered. + </p> + <p> + “I had expected you long before this, Harley.” + </p> + <p> + “Naturally,” he said, with a sort of irritation. “I have been all the way + to Whitehall and back.” + </p> + <p> + “To Whitehall! What, you have been to London?” + </p> + <p> + “I had half anticipated it, Knox. The Chief Constable, although quite a + decent fellow, is a stickler for routine. On the strength of those facts + which I thought fit to place before him he could see no reason for + superseding Aylesbury. Accordingly, without further waste of time, I + headed straight for Whitehall. You may remember a somewhat elaborate + report which I completed upon the eve of our departure from Chancery + Lane?” + </p> + <p> + I nodded. + </p> + <p> + “A very thankless job for the Home Office, Knox. But I received my reward + to-day. Inspector Wessex has been placed in charge of the case and I hope + he will be down here within the hour. Pending his arrival I am tied hand + and foot.” + </p> + <p> + We had walked into the library, and, stopping, suddenly, Harley stared me + very hard in the face. + </p> + <p> + “You are bottling something up, Knox,” he declared. “Out with it. Has + Aylesbury distinguished himself again?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” I replied; “on the contrary. He interviewed Madame de Stämer, and + came out with a flea in his ear.” + </p> + <p> + “Good,” said Harley, smiling. “A clever woman, and a woman of spirit, + Knox.” + </p> + <p> + “You are right,” I replied, “and you are also right in supposing that I + have a communication to make to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, I thought so. What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “It is a theory, Harley, which appears to me to cover the facts of the + case.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed?” said he, continuing to stare at me. “And what inspired it?” + </p> + <p> + “I was staring up at the window of the smoke-room to-day, and I remembered + the shadow which you had seen upon the blind.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” he cried, eagerly; “and does your theory explain that, too?” + </p> + <p> + “It does, Harley.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I am all anxiety to hear it.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, then, I will endeavour to be brief. Do you recollect Miss + Beverley’s story of the unfamiliar footsteps which passed her door on + several occasions?” + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly.” + </p> + <p> + “You recollect that you, yourself, heard someone crossing the hall, and + that both of us heard a door close?” + </p> + <p> + “We did.” + </p> + <p> + “And finally you saw the shadow of a woman upon the blind of the Colonel’s + private study. Very well. Excluding the preposterous theory of Inspector + Aylesbury, there is no woman in Cray’s Folly whose footsteps could + possibly have been heard in that corridor, and whose shadow could possibly + have been seen upon the blind of Colonel Menendez’s room.” + </p> + <p> + “I agree,” said Harley, quietly. “I have definitely eliminated all the + servants from the case. Therefore, proceed, Knox, I am all attention.” + </p> + <p> + “I will do so. There is a door on the south side of the house, close to + the tower and opening into the rhododendron shrubbery. This was the door + used by Colonel Menendez in his somnambulistic rambles, according to his + own account. Now, assuming his statement to have been untrue in one + particular, that is, assuming he was not walking in his sleep, but was + fully awake—” + </p> + <p> + “Eh?” exclaimed Harley, his expression undergoing a subtle change. “Do you + think his statement was untrue?” + </p> + <p> + “According to my theory, Harley, his statement was untrue, in this + particular, at least. But to proceed: Might he not have employed this door + to admit a nocturnal visitor?” + </p> + <p> + “It is feasible,” muttered Harley, watching me closely. + </p> + <p> + “For the Colonel to descend to this side door when the household was + sleeping,” I continued, “and to admit a woman secretly to Cray’s Folly, + would have been a simple matter. Indeed, on the occasions of these visits + he might even have unbolted the door himself after Pedro had bolted it, in + order to enable her to enter without his descending for the purpose of + admitting her.” + </p> + <p> + “By heavens! Knox,” said Harley, “I believe you have it!” + </p> + <p> + His eyes were gleaming excitedly, and I proceeded: + </p> + <p> + “Hence the footsteps which passed Miss Beverley’s door, hence the shadow + which you saw upon the blind; and the sounds which you detected in the + hall were caused, of course, by this woman retiring. It was the door + leading into the shrubbery which we heard being closed!” + </p> + <p> + “Continue,” said Harley; “although I can plainly see to what this is + leading.” + </p> + <p> + “You can see, Harley?” I cried; “of course you can see! The enmity between + Camber and Menendez is understandable at last.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean that Menendez was Mrs. Camber’s lover?” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you agree with me?” + </p> + <p> + “It is feasible, Knox, dreadfully feasible. But go on.” + </p> + <p> + “My theory also explains Colin Camber’s lapse from sobriety. It is + legitimate to suppose that his wife, who was a Cuban, had been intimate + with Menendez before her meeting with Camber. Perhaps she had broken the + tie at the time of her marriage, but this is mere supposition. Then, her + old lover, his infatuation by no means abated, leases the property + adjoining that of his successful rival.” + </p> + <p> + “Knox!” exclaimed Paul Harley, “this is brilliant. I am all impatience for + the <i>dénouement</i>.” + </p> + <p> + “It is coming,” I said, triumphantly. “Relations are reëstablished, + clandestinely. Colin Camber learns of these. A passionate quarrel ensues, + resulting in a long drinking bout designed to drown his sorrows. His love + for his wife is so great that he has forgiven her this infidelity. + Accordingly, she has promised to see her lover no more. Hers was the + figure which you saw outlined upon the blind on the night before the + tragedy, Harley! The gestures, which you described as those of despair, + furnish evidence to confirm my theory. It was a final meeting!” + </p> + <p> + “Hm,” muttered Harley. “It would be taking big chances, because we have to + suppose, Knox, that these visits to Cray’s Folly were made whilst her + husband was at work in the study. If he had suddenly decided to turn in, + all would have been discovered.” + </p> + <p> + “True,” I agreed, “but is it impossible?” + </p> + <p> + “No, not a bit. Women are dreadful gamblers. But continue, Knox.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well. Colonel Menendez has refused to accept his dismissal, and Mrs. + Camber had been compelled to promise, without necessarily intending to + carry out the promise, that she would see him again on the following + night. She failed to come; whereupon he, growing impatient, walked out + into the grounds of Cray’s Folly to look for her. She may even have + intended to come and have been intercepted by her husband. But in any + event, the latter, seeing the man who had wronged him, standing out there + in the moonlight, found temptation to be too strong. On the whole, I + favour the idea that he had intercepted his wife, and snatching up a + rifle, had actually gone out into the garden with the intention of + shooting Menendez.” + </p> + <p> + “I see,” murmured Harley in a low voice. “This hypothesis, Knox, does not + embrace the Bat Wing episodes.” + </p> + <p> + “If Menendez has lied upon one point,” I returned, “it is permissible to + suppose that his entire story was merely a tissue of falsehood.” + </p> + <p> + “I see. But why did he bring me to Cray’s Folly?” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you understand, Harley?” I cried, excitedly. “He really feared for + his life, since he knew that Camber had discovered the intrigue.” + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley heaved a long sigh. + </p> + <p> + “I must congratulate you, Knox,” he said, gravely, “upon a really splendid + contribution to my case. In several particulars I find myself nearer to + the truth. But the definite establishment or shattering of your theory + rests upon one thing.” + </p> + <p> + “What’s that?” I asked. “You are surely not thinking of the bat wing + nailed upon the door?” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all,” he replied. “I am thinking of the seventh yew tree from the + northeast corner of the Tudor garden.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIX. A LEE-ENFIELD RIFLE + </h2> + <p> + What reply I should have offered to this astonishing remark I cannot say, + but at that moment the library door burst open unceremoniously, and + outlined against the warmly illuminated hall, where sunlight poured down + through the dome, I beheld the figure of Inspector Aylesbury. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” he cried, loudly, “so you have come back, Mr. Harley? I thought you + had thrown up the case.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you?” said Harley, smilingly. “No, I am still persevering in my + ineffectual way.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I see. And have you quite convinced yourself that Colin Camber is + innocent?” + </p> + <p> + “In one or two particulars my evidence remains incomplete.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, in one or two particulars, eh? But generally speaking you don’t doubt + his innocence?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t doubt it for a moment.” + </p> + <p> + Harley’s words surprised me. I recognized, of course, that he might merely + be bluffing the Inspector, but it was totally alien to his character to + score a rhetorical success at the expense of what he knew to be the truth; + and so sure was I of the accuracy of my deductions that I no longer + doubted Colin Camber to be the guilty man. + </p> + <p> + “At any rate,” continued the Inspector, “he is in detention, and likely to + remain there. If you are going to defend him at the Assizes, I don’t envy + you your job, Mr. Harley.” + </p> + <p> + He was blatantly triumphant, so that the fact was evident enough that he + had obtained some further piece of evidence which he regarded as + conclusive. + </p> + <p> + “I have detained the man Ah Tsong as well,” he went on. “He was an + accomplice of your innocent friend, Mr. Harley.” + </p> + <p> + “Was he really?” murmured Harley. + </p> + <p> + “Finally,” continued the Inspector, “I have only to satisfy myself + regarding the person who lured Colonel Menendez out into the grounds last + night, to have my case complete.” + </p> + <p> + I turned aside, unable to trust myself, but Harley remarked quite coolly: + </p> + <p> + “Your industry is admirable, Inspector Aylesbury, but I seem to perceive + that you have made a very important discovery of some kind.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you have got wind of it, have you?” + </p> + <p> + “I have no information on the point,” replied Harley, “but your manner + urges me to suggest that perhaps success has crowned your efforts?” + </p> + <p> + “It has,” replied the Inspector. “I am a man that doesn’t do things by + halves. I didn’t content myself with just staring out of the window of + that little hut in the grounds of the Guest House, like you did, Mr. + Harley, and saying ‘twice one are two’—I looked at every book on the + shelves, and at every page of those books.” + </p> + <p> + “You must have materially added to your information?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, very likely, but my enquiries didn’t stop there. I had the floor up.” + </p> + <p> + “The floor of the hut?” + </p> + <p> + “The floor of the hut, sir. The planks were quite loose. I had satisfied + myself that it was a likely hiding place.” + </p> + <p> + “What did you find there, a dead rat?” + </p> + <p> + Inspector Aylesbury turned, and: + </p> + <p> + “Sergeant Butler,” he called. + </p> + <p> + The sergeant came forward from the hall, carrying a cricket bag. This + Inspector Aylesbury took from him, placing it upon the floor of the + library at his feet. + </p> + <p> + “New, sir,” said he, “I borrowed this bag in which to bring the evidence + away—the hanging evidence which I discovered beneath the floor of + the hut.” + </p> + <p> + I had turned again, when the man had referred to his discovery; and now, + glancing at Harley, I saw that his face had grown suddenly very stern. + </p> + <p> + “Show me your evidence, Inspector?” he asked, shortly. + </p> + <p> + “There can be no objection,” returned the Inspector. + </p> + <p> + Opening the bag, he took out a rifle! + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley’s hands were thrust in his coat pockets, By the movement of + the cloth I could see that he had clenched his fists. Here was + confirmation of my theory! + </p> + <p> + “A Service rifle,” said the Inspector, triumphantly, holding up the + weapon. “A Lee-Enfield charger-loader. It contains four cartridges, three + undischarged, and one discharged. He had not even troubled to eject it.” + </p> + <p> + The Inspector dropped the weapon into the bag with a dramatic movement. + </p> + <p> + “Fancy theories about bat wings and Voodoos,” he said, scornfully, “may + satisfy you, Mr. Harley, but I think this rifle will prove more + satisfactory to the Coroner.” + </p> + <p> + He picked up the bag and walked out of the library. + </p> + <p> + Harley stood posed in a curiously rigid way, looking after him. Even when + the door had closed he did not change his position at once. Then, turning + slowly, he walked to an armchair and sat down. + </p> + <p> + “Harley,” I said, hesitatingly, “has this discovery surprised you?” + </p> + <p> + “Surprised me?” he returned in a low voice. “It has appalled me.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, although you seemed to regard my theory as sound,” I continued + rather resentfully, “all the time you continued to believe Colin Camber to + be innocent?” + </p> + <p> + “I believe so still.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + “I thought we had determined, Knox,” he said, wearily, “that a man of + Camber’s genius, having decided upon murder, must have arranged for an + unassailable alibi. Very well. Are we now to leap to the other end of the + scale, and to credit him with such utter stupidity as to place hanging + evidence where it could not fail to be discovered by the most idiotic + policeman? Preserve your balance, Knox. Theories are wild horses. They run + away with us. I know that of old, for which very reason I always avoid + speculation until I have a solid foundation of fact upon which to erect + it.” + </p> + <p> + “But, my dear fellow,” I cried, “was Camber to foresee that the floor of + the hut would be taken up?” + </p> + <p> + Harley sighed, and leaned back in his chair. + </p> + <p> + “Do you recollect your first meeting with this man, Knox?” + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly.” + </p> + <p> + “What occurred?” + </p> + <p> + “He was slightly drunk.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but what was the nature of his conversation?” + </p> + <p> + “He suggested that I had recognized his resemblance to Edgar Allan Poe.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite. What had led him to make this suggestion?” + </p> + <p> + “The manner in which I had looked at him, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly. Although not quite sober, from a mere glance he was able to + detect what you were thinking. Do you wish me to believe, Knox, that this + same man had not foreseen what the police would think when Colonel + Menendez was found shot within a hundred yards of the garden of the Guest + House?” + </p> + <p> + I was somewhat taken aback, for Harley’s argument was strictly logical, + and: + </p> + <p> + “It is certainly very puzzling,” I admitted. + </p> + <p> + “Puzzling!” he exclaimed; “it is maddening. This case is like a Syrian + village-mound. Stratum lies under stratum, and in each we meet with + evidence of more refined activity than in the last. It seems we have yet + to go deeper.” + </p> + <p> + He took out his pipe and began to fill it. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me about the interview with Madame de Stämer,” he directed. + </p> + <p> + I took a seat facing him, and he did not once interrupt me throughout my + account of Inspector Aylesbury’s examination of Madame. + </p> + <p> + “Good,” he commented, when I had told how the Inspector was dismissed. + “But at least, Knox, he has a working theory, to which he sticks like an + express to the main line, whereas I find myself constantly called upon to + readjust my perspective. Directly I can enjoy freedom of movement, + however, I shall know whether my hypothesis is a house of cards or a + serviceable structure.” + </p> + <p> + “Your hypothesis?” I said. “Then you really have a theory which is + entirely different from mine?” + </p> + <p> + “Not entirely different, Knox, merely not so comprehensive. I have + contented myself thus far with a negative theory, if I may so express it.” + </p> + <p> + “Negative theory?” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly. We are dealing, my dear fellow, with a case of bewildering + intricacies. For the moment I have focussed upon one feature only.” + </p> + <p> + “What is that?” + </p> + <p> + “Upon proving that Colin Camber did not do the murder.” + </p> + <p> + “Did <i>not</i> do it?” + </p> + <p> + “Precisely, Knox. Respecting the person or persons who did do it, I had + preserved a moderately open mind, up to the moment that Inspector + Aylesbury entered the library with the Lee-Enfield.” + </p> + <p> + “And then?” I said, eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Then,” he replied, “I began to think hard. However, since I practise what + I preach, or endeavour to do so, I must not permit myself to speculate + upon this aspect of the matter until I have tested my theory of Camber’s + innocence.” + </p> + <p> + “In other words,” I said, bitterly, “although you encouraged me to unfold + my ideas regarding Mrs. Camber, you were merely laughing at me all the + time!” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Knox!” exclaimed Harley, jumping up impulsively, “please don’t be + unjust. Is it like me? On the contrary, Knox”—he looked me squarely + in the eyes—“you have given me a platform on which already I have + begun to erect one corner of a theory of the crime. Without new facts I + can go no further. But this much at least you have done.” + </p> + <p> + “Thanks, Harley,” I murmured, and indeed I was gratified; “but where do + your other corners rest?” + </p> + <p> + “They rest,” he said, slowly, “they rest, respectively, upon a bat wing, a + yew tree, and a Lee-Enfield charger-loader.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXX. THE SEVENTH YEW TREE + </h2> + <p> + Detective-Inspector Wessex arrived at about five o’clock; a quiet, + resourceful man, highly competent, and having the appearance of an + ex-soldier. His respect for the attainments of Paul Harley alone marked + him a student of character. I knew Wessex well, and was delighted when + Pedro showed him into the library. + </p> + <p> + “Thank God you are here, Wessex,” said Harley, when we had exchanged + greetings. “At last I can move. Have you seen the local officer in + charge?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” replied the Inspector, “but I gather that I have been requisitioned + over his head.” + </p> + <p> + “You have,” said Harley, grimly, “and over the head of the Chief + Constable, too. But I suppose it is unfair to condemn a man for the + shortcoming with which nature endowed him, therefore we must endeavour to + let Inspector Aylesbury down as lightly as possible. I have an idea that I + heard him return a while ago.” + </p> + <p> + He walked out into the hall to make enquiries, and a few moments later I + heard Inspector Aylesbury’s voice. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, there you are, Inspector Aylesbury,” said Harley, cheerily. “Will you + please step into the library for a moment?” + </p> + <p> + The Inspector entered, frowning heavily, followed by my friend. + </p> + <p> + “There is no earthly reason why we should get at loggerheads over this + business,” Harley continued; “but the fact of the matter is, Inspector + Aylesbury, that there are depths in this case to which neither you nor I + have yet succeeded in penetrating. You have a reputation to consider, and + so have I. Therefore I am sure you will welcome the cooperation of + Detective-Inspector Wessex of Scotland Yard, as I do.” + </p> + <p> + “What’s this, what’s this?” said Aylesbury. “I have made no application to + London.” + </p> + <p> + “Nevertheless, Inspector, it is quite in order,” declared Wessex. “I have + my instructions here, and I have reported to Market Hilton already. You + see, the man you have detained is an American citizen.” + </p> + <p> + “What of that?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, he seems to have communicated with his Embassy.” Wessex glanced + significantly at Paul Harley. “And the Embassy communicated with the Home + Office. You mustn’t regard my arrival as any reflection on your ability, + Inspector Aylesbury. I am sure we can work together quite agreeably.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” muttered the other, in evident bewilderment, “I see. Well, if that’s + the way of it, I suppose we must make the best of things.” + </p> + <p> + “Good,” cried Wessex, heartily. “Now perhaps you would like to state your + case against the detained man?” + </p> + <p> + “A sound idea, Wessex,” said Paul Harley. “But perhaps, Inspector + Aylesbury, before you begin, you would be good enough to speak to the + constable on duty at the entrance to the Tudor garden. I am anxious to + take another look at the spot where the body was found.” + </p> + <p> + Inspector Aylesbury took out his handkerchief and blew his nose loudly, + continuing throughout the operation to glare at Paul Harley, and finally: + </p> + <p> + “You are wasting your time, Mr. Harley,” he declared, “as + Detective-Inspector Wessex will be the first to admit when I have given + him the facts of my case. Nevertheless, if you want to examine the garden, + do so by all means.” + </p> + <p> + He turned without another word and stamped out of the library across the + hall and into the courtyard. + </p> + <p> + “I will join you again in a few minutes, Wessex,” said Paul Harley, + following. + </p> + <p> + “Very good, Mr. Harley,” Wessex answered. “I know you wouldn’t have had me + down if the case had been as simple as he seems to think it is.” + </p> + <p> + I joined Harley, and we walked together up the gravelled path, meeting + Inspector Aylesbury and the constable returning. + </p> + <p> + “Go ahead, Mr. Harley!” cried the Inspector. “If you can find any stronger + evidence than the rifle, I shall be glad to take a look at it.” + </p> + <p> + Harley nodded good-humouredly, and together we descended the steps to the + sunken garden. I was intensely curious respecting the investigation which + Harley had been so anxious to make here, for I recognized that it was + associated with something which he had seen from the window of Camber’s + hut. + </p> + <p> + He walked along the moss-grown path to the sun-dial, and stood for a + moment looking down at the spot where Menendez had lain. Then he stared up + the hill toward the Guest House; and finally, directing his attention to + the yews which lined the sloping bank: + </p> + <p> + “One, two, three, four,” he counted, checking them with his fingers—“five, + six, seven.” + </p> + <p> + He mounted the bank and began to examine the trunk of one of the trees, + whilst I watched him in growing astonishment. + </p> + <p> + Presently he turned and looked down at me. + </p> + <p> + “Not a trace, Knox,” he murmured; “not a trace. Let us try again.” + </p> + <p> + He moved along to the yew adjoining that which he had already inspected, + but presently shook his head and passed to the next. Then: + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” he cried. “Come here, Knox!” + </p> + <p> + I joined him where he was kneeling, staring at what I took to be a large + nail, or bolt, protruding from the bark of the tree. + </p> + <p> + “You see!” he exclaimed, “you see!” + </p> + <p> + I stooped, in order to examine the thing more closely, and as I did so, I + realized what it was. It was the bullet which had killed Colonel Menendez! + </p> + <p> + Harley stood upright, his face slightly flushed and his eyes very bright. + </p> + <p> + “We shall not attempt to remove it, Knox,” he said. “The depth of + penetration may have a tale to tell. The wood of the yew tree is one of + the toughest British varieties.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Harley,” I said, blankly, as we descended to the path, “this is + merely another point for the prosecution of Camber. Unless”—I turned + to him in sudden excitement, “the bullet was of different—” + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” he murmured, “nothing so easy as that, Knox. The bullet was + fired from a Lee-Enfield beyond doubt.” + </p> + <p> + I stared at him uncomprehendingly. + </p> + <p> + “Then I am utterly out of my depth, Harley. It, appears to me that the + case against Camber is finally and fatally complete. Only the motive + remains to be discovered, and I flatter myself that I have already + detected this.” + </p> + <p> + “I am certainly inclined to think,” admitted Harley, “that there is a good + deal in your theory.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, Harley,” I said in bewilderment, “you do believe that Camber + committed the murder?” + </p> + <p> + “On the contrary,” he replied, “I am certain that he did not.” + </p> + <p> + I stood quite still. + </p> + <p> + “You are certain?” I began. + </p> + <p> + “I told you that the test of my theory, Knox, was to be looked for in the + seventh yew from the northeast corner of the Tudor garden, did I not?” + </p> + <p> + “You did. And it is there. A bullet fired from a Lee-Enfield rifle; beyond + any possible shadow of doubt the bullet which killed Colonel Menendez.” + </p> + <p> + “Beyond any possible shadow of doubt, as you say, Knox, the bullet which + killed Colonel Menendez.” + </p> + <p> + “Therefore Camber is guilty?” + </p> + <p> + “On the contrary, therefore Camber is innocent!” + </p> + <p> + “What!” + </p> + <p> + “You are persistently overlooking one little point, Knox,” said Harley, + mounting the steps on to the gravel path. “I spoke of the seventh yew tree + from the northeast corner of the garden.” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, my dear fellow, surely you observed that the bullet was embedded in + the ninth?” + </p> + <p> + I was still groping for the significance of this point when, re-crossing + the hall, we entered the library again, to find Inspector Aylesbury posed + squarely before the mantelpiece stating his case to Wessex. + </p> + <p> + “You see,” he was saying, in his most oratorical manner, as we entered, + “every little detail fits perfectly into place. For instance, I find that + a woman, called Mrs. Powis, who for the past two years had acted as + housekeeper at the Guest House and never taken a holiday, was sent away + recently to her married daughter in London. See what that means? Her room + is at the back of the house, and her evidence would have been fatal. Ah + Tsong, of course, is a liar. I made up my mind about that the moment I + clapped eyes on him. Mrs. Camber is the only innocent party. She was + asleep in the front of the house when the shot was fired, and I believe + her when she says that she cannot swear to the matter of distance.” + </p> + <p> + “A very interesting case, Inspector,” said Wessex, glancing at Harley. “I + have not examined the body yet, but I understand that it was a clean wound + through the head.” + </p> + <p> + “The bullet entered at the juncture of the nasal and frontal bones,” + explained Harley, rapidly, “and it came out between the base of the + occipital and first cervical. Without going into unpleasant surgical + details, the wound was a perfectly <i>straight</i> one. There was no + ricochet.” + </p> + <p> + “I understand that a regulation rifle was used?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Inspector Aylesbury; “we have it.” + </p> + <p> + “And at what range did you say, Inspector?” + </p> + <p> + “Roughly, a hundred yards.” + </p> + <p> + “Possibly less,” murmured Harley. + </p> + <p> + “Hundred yards or less,” said Wessex, musingly; “and the obstruction met + with in the case of a man shot in that way would be—” He looked + towards Paul Harley. + </p> + <p> + “Less than if the bullet had struck the skull higher up,” was the reply. + “It passed clean through.” + </p> + <p> + “Therefore,” continued Wessex, “I am waiting to hear, Inspector, where you + found the bullet lodged?” + </p> + <p> + “Eh?” said the Inspector, and he slowly turned his prominent eyes in + Harley’s direction. “Oh, I see. That’s why you wanted to examine the Tudor + garden, is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly,” replied Harley. + </p> + <p> + The face of Inspector Aylesbury grew very red. + </p> + <p> + “I had deferred looking for the bullet,” he explained, “as the case was + already as clear as daylight. Probably Mr. Harley has discovered it.” + </p> + <p> + “I have,” said Harley, shortly. + </p> + <p> + “Is it the regulation bullet?” asked Wessex. + </p> + <p> + “It is. I found it embedded in one of the yew trees.” + </p> + <p> + “There you are!” exclaimed Aylesbury. “There isn’t the ghost of a doubt.” + </p> + <p> + Wessex looked at Harley in undisguised perplexity. + </p> + <p> + “I must say, Mr. Harley,” he admitted, “that I have never met with a + clearer case.” + </p> + <p> + “Neither have I,” agreed Harley, cheerfully. “I am going to ask Inspector + Aylesbury to return here after nightfall. There is a little experiment + which I should like to make, and which would definitely establish my + case.” + </p> + <p> + “<i>Your</i> case?” said Aylesbury. + </p> + <p> + “My case, yes.” + </p> + <p> + “You are not going to tell me that you still persist in believing Camber + to be innocent?” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all. I am merely going to ask you to return at nightfall to assist + me in this minor investigation.” + </p> + <p> + “If you ask my opinion,” said the Inspector, “no further evidence is + needed.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t agree with you,” replied Harley, quietly. “Whatever your own + ideas upon the subject may be, I, personally, have not yet discovered one + single piece of convincing evidence for the prosecution of Camber.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” exclaimed Aylesbury, and even Detective-Inspector Wessex stared at + the speaker incredulously. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Inspector Aylesbury,” concluded Harley, “when you have witnessed + the experiment which I propose to make this evening you will realize, as I + have already realized that we are faced by a tremendous task.” + </p> + <p> + “What tremendous task?” + </p> + <p> + “The task of discovering who shot Colonel Menendez.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXI. YSOLA CAMBER’S CONFESSION + </h2> + <p> + Paul Harley, with Wessex and Inspector Aylesbury, presently set out for + Market Hilton, where Colin Camber and Ah Tsong were detained and where the + body of Colonel Menendez had been conveyed for the purpose of the + post-mortem. I had volunteered to remain at Cray’s Folly, my motive being + not wholly an unselfish one. + </p> + <p> + “Refer reporters to me, Mr. Knox,” said Inspector Wessex. “Don’t let them + trouble the ladies. And tell them as little as possible, yourself.” + </p> + <p> + The drone of the engine having died away down the avenue, I presently + found myself alone, but as I crossed the hall in the direction of the + library, intending to walk out upon the southern lawns, I saw Val Beverley + coming toward me from Madame de Stämer’s room. + </p> + <p> + She remained rather pale, but smiled at me courageously. + </p> + <p> + “Have they all gone, Mr. Knox?” she asked. “I have really been hiding. I + suppose you knew?” + </p> + <p> + “I suspected it,” I said, smiling. “Yes, they are all gone. How is Madame + de Stämer, now?” + </p> + <p> + “She is quite calm. Curiously, almost uncannily calm. She is writing. Tell + me, please, what does Mr. Harley think of Inspector Aylesbury’s + preposterous ideas?” + </p> + <p> + “He thinks he is a fool,” I replied, hotly, “as I do.” + </p> + <p> + “But whatever will happen if he persists in dragging me into this horrible + case?” + </p> + <p> + “He will not drag you into it,” I said, quietly. “He has been superseded + by a cleverer man, and the case is practically under Harley’s direction + now.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank Heaven for that,” she murmured. “I wonder——” She looked + at me hesitatingly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” I prompted. + </p> + <p> + “I have been thinking about poor Mrs. Camber all alone in that gloomy + house, and wondering——” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I know. You are going to visit her?” + </p> + <p> + Val Beverley nodded, watching me. + </p> + <p> + “Can you leave Madame de Stämer with safety?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, I think so. Nita can attend to her.” + </p> + <p> + “And may I accompany you, Miss Beverley? For more reasons than one, I, + too, should like to call upon Mrs. Camber.” + </p> + <p> + “We might try,” she said, hesitatingly. “I really only wanted to be kind. + You won’t begin to cross-examine her, will you?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not,” I answered; “although there are many things I should like + her to tell us.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, suppose we go,” said the girl, “and let events take their own + course.” + </p> + <p> + As a result, I presently found myself, Val Beverley by my side, walking + across the meadow path. With the unpleasant hush of Cray’s Folly left + behind, the day seemed to grow brighter. I thought that the skylarks had + never sung more sweetly. Yet in this same instant of sheerly physical + enjoyment I experienced a pang of remorse, remembering the tragic woman we + had left behind, and the poor little sorrowful girl we were going to + visit. My emotions were very mingled, then, and I retain no recollection + of our conversation up to the time that we came to the Guest House. + </p> + <p> + We were admitted by a really charming old lady, who informed us that her + name was Mrs. Powis and that she was but an hour returned from London, + whither she had been summoned by telegram. + </p> + <p> + She showed us into a quaint, small drawing room which owed its atmosphere + quite clearly to Mrs. Camber, for whereas the study was indescribably + untidy, this was a model of neatness without being formal or unhomely. + Here, in a few moments, Mrs. Camber joined us, an appealing little figure + of wistful, almost elfin, beauty. I was surprised and delighted to find + that an instant bond of sympathy sprang up between the two girls. I + diplomatically left them together for a while, going into Camber’s room to + smoke my pipe. And when I returned: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Mr. Knox,” said Val Beverley, “Mrs. Camber has something to tell you + which she thinks you ought to know.” + </p> + <p> + “Concerning Colonel Menendez?” I asked, eagerly. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Camber nodded her golden head. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she replied, but glancing at Val Beverley as if to gather + confidence. “The truth can never hurt Colin. He has nothing to conceal. + May I tell you?” + </p> + <p> + “I am all anxiety to hear,” I assured her. + </p> + <p> + “Would you rather I went, Mrs. Camber?” asked Val Beverley. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Camber reached across and took her hand. + </p> + <p> + “Please, no,” she replied. “Stay here with me. I am afraid it is rather a + long story.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind,” I said. “It will be time well spent if it leads us any + nearer to the truth.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” she questioned, watching me anxiously, “you think so? I think so, + too.” + </p> + <p> + She became silent, sitting looking straight before her, the pupils of her + blue eyes widely dilated. Then, at first in a queer, far-away voice, she + began to speak again. + </p> + <p> + “I must tell you,” she commenced “that before—my marriage, my name + was Isabella de Valera.” + </p> + <p> + I started. + </p> + <p> + “Ysola was my baby way of saying it, and so I came to be called Ysola. My + father was manager of one of Señor Don Juan’s estates, in a small island + near the coast of Cuba. My mother”—she raised her little hands + eloquently—“was half-caste. Do you know? And she and my father—” + </p> + <p> + She looked pleadingly at Val Beverley. + </p> + <p> + “I understand,” whispered the latter with deep sympathy; “but you don’t + think it makes any difference, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “No?” said Mrs. Camber with a quaint little gesture. “To you, perhaps not, + but there, where I was born, oh! so much. Well, then, my mother died when + I was very little. Ah Tsong was her servant. There are many Chinese in the + West Indies, you see, and I can just remember he carried me in to see her. + Of course I didn’t understand. My father quarrelled bitterly with the + priests because they would not bury her in holy ground. I think he no + longer believed afterward. I loved him very much. He was good to me; and I + was a queen in that little island. All the negroes loved me, because of my + mother, I think, who was partly descended from slaves, as they were. But I + had not begun to understand how hard it was all going to be when my father + sent me to a convent in Cuba. + </p> + <p> + “I hated to go, but while I was there I learned all about myself. I knew + that I was outcast. It was”—she raised her hand—“not possible + to stay. I was only fifteen when I came home, but all the same I was a + woman. I was no more a child, and happy no longer. After a while, perhaps, + when I forgot what I had suffered at the convent, I became less miserable. + My father did all in his power to make me happy, and I was glad the + work-people loved me. But I was very lonely. Ah Tsong understood.” + </p> + <p> + Her eyes filled with tears. + </p> + <p> + “Can you imagine,” she asked, “that when my father was away in distant + parts of the island at night, Ah Tsong slept outside my door? Some of them + say, ‘Do not trust the Chinese’ I say, except my husband and my father, I + have never known another one to trust but Ah Tsong. Now they have taken + him away from me.” + </p> + <p> + Tears glittered on her lashes, but she brushed them aside angrily, and + continued: + </p> + <p> + “I was still less than twenty, and looked, they told me, only fourteen, + when Señor Menendez came to inspect his estate. I had never seen him + before. There had been a rising in the island, in the year after I was + born, and he had only just escaped with his life. He was hated. People + called him Devil Menendez. Especially, no woman was safe from him, and in + the old days, when his power had been great, he had used it for + wickedness. + </p> + <p> + “My father was afraid when he heard he was coming. He would have sent me + away, but before it could be arranged Señor the Colonel arrived. He had in + his company a French lady. I thought her very beautiful and elegant. It + was Madame de Stämer. It is only four years ago, a little more, but her + hair was dark brown. She was splendidly dressed and such a wonderful + horsewoman. The first time I saw her I felt as they had made me feel at + the convent. I wanted to hide from her. She was so grand a lady, and I + came from slaves.” + </p> + <p> + She paused hesitatingly and stared down at her own tiny feet. + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me interrupting you, Mrs. Camber,” I said, “but can you tell me in + what way these two are related?” + </p> + <p> + She looked up with her naïve smile. + </p> + <p> + “I can tell you, yes. A cousin of Señor Menendez married a sister of + Madame de Stämer.” + </p> + <p> + “Good heavens!” I exclaimed, “a very remote kinship.” + </p> + <p> + “It was in this way they met, in Paris, I think, and”—she raised her + hands expressively—“she came with him to the West Indies, although + it was during the great war. I think she loved him more than her soul, and + me—me she hated. As Señor Menendez dismounted from his horse in + front of the house he saw me.” + </p> + <p> + She sighed and ceased speaking again. Then: + </p> + <p> + “That very night,” she continued, “he began. Do you know? I was trying to + escape from him when Madame de Stämer found us. She called me a shameful + name, and my father, who heard it, ordered her out of the house. Señor + Menendez spoke sharply, and my father struck him.” + </p> + <p> + She paused once more, biting her lip agitatedly, but presently proceeded: + </p> + <p> + “Do you know what they are like, the Spanish, when their blood is hot? + Senor Menendez had a revolver, but my father knocked it from his grasp. + Then they fought with their bare hands. I was too frightened even to cry + out. It was all a horrible dream. What Madame de Stämer did, I do not + know. I could see nothing but two figures twined together on the floor. At + last one of them arose. I saw it was my father, and I remember no more.” + </p> + <p> + She was almost overcome by her tragic recollections, but presently, with a + wonderful courage, which, together with her daintiness of form, spoke + eloquently of good blood on one side at any rate, continued to speak: + </p> + <p> + “My father found he must go to Cuba to make arrangements for the future. + Of course, our life there was finished. Ah Tsong stayed with me. You have + heard how it used to be in those islands in the old days, but now you + think it is so different? I used to think it was different, too. On the + first night my father was away, Ah Tsong, who had gone out, was so long + returning I became afraid. Then a strange negro came with news that he had + been taken ill with cholera, and was lying at a place not far from the + house. I forgot my fears and hurried off with this man. Ah!” + </p> + <p> + She laughed wildly. + </p> + <p> + “I did not know I should never return, and I did not know I should never + see my father again. To you this must seem all wild and strange, because + there is a law in England. There is a law in Cuba, too, but in some of + those little islands the only law is the law of the strongest.” + </p> + <p> + She raised her hands to her face and there was silence for a while. + </p> + <p> + “Of course it was a trap,” she presently continued. “I was taken to an + island called El Manas which belonged to Senor Menendez, and where he had + a house. This he could do, but”—she threw back her head proudly—“my + spirit he could not break. Lots and lots of money would be mine, and + estates of my own; but one thing about him I must tell: he never showed me + violence. For one, two, three weeks I stayed a prisoner in his house. All + the servants were faithful to him and I could not find a friend among + them. Although quite innocent, I was ruined. Do you know?” + </p> + <p> + She raised her eyes pathetically to Val Beverley. + </p> + <p> + “I thought my heart was broken, for something told me my father was dead. + This was true.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” I exclaimed. “You don’t mean—” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know, I don’t know,” she answered, brokenly. “He died on his way + to Havana. They said it was an accident. Well—at last, Señor + Menendez offered me marriage. I thought if I agreed it would give me my + freedom, and I could run away and find Ah Tsong.” + </p> + <p> + She paused, and a flush coloured her delicate face and faded again, + leaving it very pale. + </p> + <p> + “We were married in the house, by a Spanish priest. Oh”—she raised + her hands pathetically—“do you know what a woman is like? My spirit + was not broken still, but crushed. I had now nothing but kindness and + gifts. I might never have known, but Senor Menendez, who thought”—she + smiled sadly—“I was beautiful, took me to Cuba, where he had a great + house. Please remember, please,” she pleaded, “before you judge of me, + that I was so young and had never known love, except the love of my + father. I did not even dream, then, his death was not an accident. + </p> + <p> + “I was proud of my jewels and fine dresses. But I began to notice that + Juan did not present any of his friends to me. We went about, but to + strange places, never to visit people of his own kind, and none came to + visit us. Then one night I heard someone on the balcony of my room. I was + so frightened I could not cry out. It was good I was like that, for the + curtain was pulled open and Ah Tsong came in.” + </p> + <p> + She clutched convulsively at the arms of her chair. + </p> + <p> + “He told me!” she said in a very low voice. + </p> + <p> + Then, looking up pitifully: + </p> + <p> + “Do you know?” she asked in her quaint way. “It was a mock marriage. He + had done it and thought no shame, because it was so with my mother. Oh!” + </p> + <p> + Her beautiful eyes flashed, and for the first time since I had met Ysola + Camber I saw the real Spanish spirit of the woman leap to life. + </p> + <p> + “He did not know me. Perhaps I did not know myself. That night, with no + money, without a ring, a piece of lace, a peseta, anything that had + belonged to him, I went with Ah Tsong. We made our way to a half-sister of + my father’s who lived in Puerto Principe, and at first—she would not + have me. I was talked about, she said, in all the islands. She told me of + my poor father. She told me I had dragged the name of de Valera in the + dirt. At last I made her understand—that what everyone else had + known, I had never even dreamed of.” + </p> + <p> + She looked up wistfully, as if thinking that we might doubt her. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know?” she whispered. + </p> + <p> + “I know—oh! I know!” said Val Beverley. I loved her for the sympathy + in her voice and in her eyes. “It is very, very brave of you to tell us + this, Mrs. Camber.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes? Do you think so?” asked the girl, simply. “What does it matter if it + can help Colin? + </p> + <p> + “This aunt of mine,” she presently continued, “was a poor woman, and it + was while I was hiding in her house—because spies of Senor Menendez + were searching for me—that I met—my husband. He was studying + in Cuba the strange things he writes about, you see. And before I knew + what had happened—I found I loved him more than all else in the + world. It is so wonderful, that feeling,” she said, looking across at Val + Beverley. “Do you know?” + </p> + <p> + The girl flushed deeply, and lowered her eyes, but made no reply. + </p> + <p> + “Because you are a woman, too, you will perhaps understand,” she resumed. + “I did not tell him. I did not dare to tell him at first. I was so madly + happy I had no courage to speak. But when”—her voice sank lower and + lower—“he asked me to marry him, I told him. Nothing he could ever + do would change my love for him now, because he forgave me and made me his + wife.” + </p> + <p> + I feared that at last she was going to break down, for her voice became + very tremulous and tears leapt again into her eyes. She conquered her + emotion, however, and went on: + </p> + <p> + “We crossed over to the States, and Colin’s family who had heard of his + marriage—some friend of Señor Menendez had told them—would not + know us. It meant that Colin, who would have been a rich man, was very + poor. It made no difference. He was splendid. And I was so happy it was + all like a dream. He made me forget I was to blame for his troubles. Then + we were in Washington—and I saw Señor Menendez in the hotel! + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my heart stopped beating. For me it seemed like the end of + everything. I knew, I knew, he was following me. But he had not seen me, + and without telling Colin the reason, I made him leave Washington, He was + glad to go. Wherever we went, in America, they seemed to find out about my + mother. I got to hate them, hate them all. We came to England, and Colin + heard about this house, and we took it. + </p> + <p> + “At last we were really happy. No one knew us. Because we were strange, + and because of Ah Tsong, they looked at us very funny and kept away, but + we did not care. Then Sir James Appleton sold Cray’s Folly.” + </p> + <p> + She looked up quickly. + </p> + <p> + “How can I tell you? It must have been by Ah Tsong that he traced me to + Surrey. Some spy had told him there was a Chinaman living here. Oh, I + don’t know how he found out, but when I heard who was coming to Cray’s + Folly I thought I should die. + </p> + <p> + “Something I must tell you now. When I had told my story to Colin, one + thing I had not told him, because I was afraid what he might do. I had not + told him the name of the man who had caused me to suffer so much. On the + day I first saw Señor Menendez walking in the garden of Cray’s Folly I + knew I must tell my husband what he had so often asked me to tell him—the + name of the man. I told him—and at first I thought he would go mad. + He began to drink—do you know? It is a failing in his family. But + because I knew—because I knew—I forgave him, and hoped, always + hoped, that he would stop. He promised to do so. He had given up going out + each day to drink, and was working again like he used to work—too + hard, too hard, but it was better than the other way.” + </p> + <p> + She stopped speaking, and suddenly, before I could divine her intention, + dropped upon her knees, and raised her clasped hands to me. + </p> + <p> + “He did not, he did not kill him!” she cried, passionately. “He did not! O + God! I who love him tell you he did not! You think he did. You do—you + do! I can see it in your eyes!” + </p> + <p> + “Believe me, Mrs. Camber,” I answered, deeply moved, “I don’t doubt your + word for a moment.” + </p> + <p> + She continued to look at me for a while, and then turned to Val Beverley. + </p> + <p> + “<i>You</i> don’t think he did,” she sobbed, “do you?” + </p> + <p> + She looked such a child, such a pretty, helpless child, as she knelt there + on the carpet, that I felt a lump rising in my throat. + </p> + <p> + Val Beverley dropped down impulsively beside her and put her arms around + the slender shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Of course I don’t,” she exclaimed, indignantly. “Of course I don’t. It’s + quite unthinkable.” + </p> + <p> + “I know it is,” moaned the other, raising her tearful face. “I love him + and know his great soul. But what do these others know, and they will + never believe <i>me</i>.” + </p> + <p> + “Have courage,” I said. “It has never failed you yet. Mr. Paul Harley has + promised to clear him by to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “He has promised?” she whispered, still kneeling and clutching Val + Beverley tightly. She looked up at me with hope reborn in her beautiful + eyes. “He has promised? Oh, I thank him. May God bless him. I know he will + succeed.” + </p> + <p> + I turned aside, and walked out across the hall and into the empty study. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0032" id="link2HCH0032"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXII. PAUL HARLEY’S EXPERIMENT + </h2> + <p> + I recognize that whosoever may have taken the trouble to follow my + chronicle thus far will be little disposed to suffer any intrusion of my + personal affairs at such a point. Therefore I shall pass lightly over the + walk back to Cray’s Folly, during which I contrived to learn much about + Val Beverley’s personal history but little to advance the investigation + which I was there to assist. + </p> + <p> + As I had surmised, Miss Beverley had been amply provided for by her + father, and was bound to Madame de Stämer by no other ties than those of + friendship and esteem. Very reluctantly I released her, on our returning + to the house; for she, perforce, hurried off to Madame’s room, leaving me + looking after her in a state of delightful bewilderment, the significance + of which I could not disguise from myself. The absurd suspicions of + Inspector Aylesbury were forgotten; so was the shadow upon the blind of + Colonel Menendez’s study. I only knew that love had come to me, an + unbidden guest, to stay for ever. + </p> + <p> + Manoel informed me that a number of pressmen, not to be denied, had taken + photographs of the Tudor garden and of the spot where Colonel Menendez had + been found, but Pedro, following my instructions, had referred them all to + Market Hilton. + </p> + <p> + I was standing in the doorway talking to the man when I heard the drone of + Harley’s motor in the avenue, and a moment later he and Wessex stepped out + in front of the porch and joined me. I thought that Wessex looked stern + and rather confused, but Harley was quite his old self, his keen eyes + gleaming humorously, and an expression of geniality upon his tanned + features. + </p> + <p> + “Hullo, Knox!” he cried, “any developments?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” I said. “Suppose we go up to your room and talk.” + </p> + <p> + “Good enough.” + </p> + <p> + Inspector Wessex nodded without speaking, and the three of us mounted the + staircase and entered Paul Harley’s room. Harley seated himself upon the + bed and began to load his pipe, whilst Wessex, who seemed very restless, + stood staring out of the window. I sat down in the armchair, and: + </p> + <p> + “I have had an interesting interview with Mrs. Camber,” I said. + </p> + <p> + “What?” exclaimed Harley. “Good. Tell us all about it.” + </p> + <p> + Wessex turned, hands clasped behind him, and listened in silence to an + account which I gave of my visit to the Guest House. When I had finished: + </p> + <p> + “It seems to me,” said the Inspector, slowly, “that the only doubtful + point in the case against Camber is cleared up; namely, his motive.” + </p> + <p> + “It certainly looks like it,” agreed Harley. “But how strangely Mrs. + Camber’s story differs from that of Menendez although there are points of + contact. I regret, however, that you were unable to settle the most + important matter of all.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean whether or not she had visited Cray’s Folly?” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you still consider my theory to be correct?” I asked eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Up to a point it has been proved to be,” he returned. “I must + congratulate you upon a piece of really brilliant reasoning, Knox. But + respecting the most crucial moment of all, we are still without + information, unfortunately. However, whilst the presence or otherwise, of + Mrs. Camber in Cray’s Folly on the night preceding the tragedy may prove + to bear intimately upon the case, an experiment which I propose to make + presently will give the matter an entirely different significance.” + </p> + <p> + “Hm,” said Wessex, doubtfully, “I am looking forward to this experiment of + yours, Mr. Harley, with great interest. To be perfectly honest, I have no + more idea than the man in the moon how you hope to clear Camber.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” replied Harley, musingly, “the weight of evidence against him is + crushing. But you are a man of great experience, Wessex, in criminal + investigations. Tell me honestly, have you ever known a murder case in + which there was such conclusive material for the prosecution?” + </p> + <p> + “Never,” replied the Inspector, promptly. “In this respect, as in others, + the case is unique.” + </p> + <p> + “You have seen Camber,” continued Harley, “and have been enabled to form + some sort of judgment respecting his character. You will admit that he is + a clever man, brilliantly clever. Keep this fact in mind. Remember his + studies, and he does not deny that they have included Voodoo. Remember his + enquiries into the significance of Bat Wing. Remember, as we now learn + definitely from Mrs. Camber’s evidence, that he was in Cuba at the same + time as the late Colonel Menendez, and once, at least, actually in the + same hotel in the United States. Consider the rifle found under the floor + of the hut; and, having weighed all these points judicially, Wessex, tell + me frankly, if in the whole course of your experience, you have ever met + with a more perfect frame-up?” + </p> + <p> + “What!” shouted Wessex, in sudden excitement. “What!” + </p> + <p> + “I said a frame-up,” repeated Harley, quietly. “An American term, but one + which will be familiar to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Good God!” muttered the detective, “you have turned all my ideas upside + down.” + </p> + <p> + “What may be termed the <i>physical</i> evidence,” continued Harley, “is + complete, I admit: too complete. There lies the weak spot. But what I will + call the psychological evidence points in a totally different direction. A + man clever enough to have planned this crime, and Camber undoubtedly is + such a man, could not—it is humanly impossible—have been fool + enough, deliberately to lay such a train of damning facts. It’s a + frame-up, Wessex! I had begun to suspect this even before I met Camber. + Having met him, I knew that I was right. Then came an inspiration. I saw + where there must be a flaw in the plan. It was geographically impossible + that this could be otherwise.” + </p> + <p> + “Geographically impossible?” I said, in a hushed voice, for Harley had + truly astounded me. + </p> + <p> + “Geographical is the term, Knox. I admit that the discovery of the rifle + beneath the floor of the hut appalled me.” + </p> + <p> + “I could see that it did.” + </p> + <p> + “It was the crowning piece of evidence, Knox, evidence of such fiendish + cleverness on the part of those who had plotted Menendez’s death that I + began to wonder whether after all it would be possible to defeat them. I + realized that Camber’s life hung upon a hair. For the production of that + rifle before a jury of twelve moderately stupid men and true could not + fail to carry enormous weight. Whereas the delicate point upon which my + counter case rested might be more difficult to demonstrate in court. + To-night, however, we shall put it to the test, and there are means, no + doubt, which will occur to me later, of making its significance evident to + one not acquainted with the locality. The press photographs, which I + understand have been taken, may possibly help us in this.” + </p> + <p> + Bewildered by my friend’s revolutionary ideas, which explained the + hitherto mysterious nature of his enquiries, I scarcely knew what to say; + but: + </p> + <p> + “If it’s a frame-up, Mr. Harley,” said Wessex, “and the more I think about + it the more it has that look to me, practically speaking, we have not yet + started on the search for the murderer.” + </p> + <p> + “We have not,” replied Harley, grimly. “But I have a dawning idea of a + method by which we shall be enabled to narrow down this enquiry.” + </p> + <p> + It must be unnecessary for me to speak of the state of suppressed + excitement in which we passed the remainder of that afternoon and evening. + Dr. Rolleston called again to see Madame de Stämer, and reported that she + was quite calm. In fact, he almost echoed Val Beverley’s words spoken + earlier in the day. + </p> + <p> + “She is unnaturally calm, Mr. Knox,” he said in confidence. “I understand + that the dead man was a cousin, but I almost suspect that she was madly in + love with him.” + </p> + <p> + I nodded shortly, admiring his acute intelligence. + </p> + <p> + “I think you are right, doctor,” I replied, “and if it is so, her amazing + fortitude is all the more admirable.” + </p> + <p> + “Admirable?” he echoed. “As I said before, she has the courage of ten + men.” + </p> + <p> + A formal dinner was out of the question, of course; indeed, no one + attempted to dress. Val Beverley excused herself, saying that she would + dine in Madame’s room, and Harley, Wessex, and I, partook of wine and + sandwiches in the library. + </p> + <p> + Inspector Aylesbury arrived about eight o’clock in a mood of repressed + irritation. Pedro showed him in to where the three of us were seated, and: + </p> + <p> + “Good evening, gentlemen,” said he, “here I am, as arranged, but as I am + up to my eyes in work on the case, I will ask you, Mr. Harley, to carry + out this experiment of yours as quickly as possible.” + </p> + <p> + “No time shall be lost,” replied my friend, quietly. “May I request you to + accompany Detective-Inspector Wessex and Mr. Knox to the Guest House by + the high road? Do not needlessly alarm Mrs. Camber. Indeed, I think you + might confine your attention to Mrs. Powis. Merely request permission to + walk down the garden to the hut, and be good enough to wait there until I + join you, which will be in a few minutes after your arrival.” + </p> + <p> + Inspector Aylesbury uttered an inarticulate, grunting sound, but I, who + knew Harley so well, could see that he felt himself to be upon the eve of + a signal triumph. What he proposed to do, I had no idea, save that it was + designed to clear Colin Camber. I prayed that it might also clear his + pathetic girl-wife; and in a sort of gloomy silence I set out with Wessex + and Aylesbury, down the drive, past the lodge, which seemed to be deserted + to-night, and along the tree-lined high road, cool and sweet in the dusk + of evening. + </p> + <p> + Aylesbury was very morose, and Wessex, who had lighted his pipe, did not + seem to be in a talkative mood either. He had the utmost faith in Paul + Harley, but it was evident enough that he was oppressed by the weight of + evidence against Camber. I divined the fact that he was turning over in + his mind the idea of the frame-up, and endeavouring to re-adjust the + established facts in accordance with this new point of view. + </p> + <p> + We were admitted to the Guest House by Mrs. Powis, a cheery old soul; one + of those born optimists whose special task in life seems to be that of a + friend in need. + </p> + <p> + As she opened the door, she smiled, shook her head, and raised her finger + to her lips. + </p> + <p> + “Be as quiet as you can, sir,” she said. “I have got her to sleep.” + </p> + <p> + She spoke of Mrs. Camber as one refers to a child, and, quite + understanding her anxiety: + </p> + <p> + “There will be no occasion to disturb her, Mrs. Powis,” I replied. “We + merely wish to walk down to the bottom of the garden to make a few + enquiries.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, gentlemen,” she whispered, quietly closing the door as we all + entered the hall. + </p> + <p> + She led us through the rear portion of the house, and past the quarters of + Ah Tsong into that neglected garden which I remembered so well. + </p> + <p> + “There you are, sir, and may Heaven help you to find the truth.” + </p> + <p> + “Rest assured that the truth will be found, Mrs. Powis,” I answered. + </p> + <p> + Inspector Aylesbury cleared his throat, but Wessex, puffing at his pipe, + made no remark whatever until we were all come to the hut overhanging the + little ravine. + </p> + <p> + “This is where I found the rifle, Detective-Inspector,” explained + Aylesbury. + </p> + <p> + Wessex nodded absently. + </p> + <p> + It was another perfect night, with only a faint tracery of cloud to be + seen like lingering smoke over on the western horizon. Everything seemed + very still, so that although we were several miles from the railway line, + when presently a train sped on its way one might have supposed, from the + apparent nearness of the sound, that the track was no farther off than the + grounds of Cray’s Folly. + </p> + <p> + Toward those grounds, automatically, our glances were drawn; and we stood + there staring down at the ghostly map of the gardens, and all wondering, + no doubt, what Harley was doing and when he would be joining us. + </p> + <p> + Very faintly I could hear the water of the little stream bubbling beneath + us. Then, just as this awkward silence was becoming intolerable, there + came a scraping and scratching from the shadows of the gully, and: + </p> + <p> + “Give me a hand, Knox!” cried the voice of Harley from below. “I want to + avoid the barbed wire if possible.” + </p> + <p> + He had come across country, and as I scrambled down the slope to meet him + I could not help wondering with what object he had sent us ahead by the + high road. Presently, when he came clambering up into the garden, this in + a measure was explained, for: + </p> + <p> + “You are all wondering,” he began, rapidly, “what I am up to, no doubt. + Let me endeavour to make it clear. In order that my test should be + conclusive, and in no way influenced by pre-knowledge of certain + arrangements which I had made, I sent you on ahead of me. Not wishing to + waste time, I followed by the shorter route. And now, gentlemen, let us + begin.” + </p> + <p> + “Good,” muttered Inspector Aylesbury. + </p> + <p> + “But first of all,” continued Harley, “I wish each one of you in turn to + look out of the window of the hut, and down into the Tudor garden of + Cray’s Folly. Will you begin, Wessex?” + </p> + <p> + Wessex, taking his pipe out of his mouth, and staring hard at the speaker, + nodded, entered the hut, and kneeling on the wooden seat, looked out of + the window. + </p> + <p> + “Open the panes,” said Harley, “so that you have a perfectly clear view.” + </p> + <p> + Wessex slid the panes open and stared intently down into the valley. + </p> + <p> + “Do you see anything unusual in the garden?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing,” he reported. + </p> + <p> + “And now, Inspector Aylesbury.” + </p> + <p> + Inspector Aylesbury stamped noisily across the little hut, and peered out, + briefly. + </p> + <p> + “I can see the garden,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Can you see the sun-dial?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite clearly.” + </p> + <p> + “Good. And now you, Knox.” + </p> + <p> + I followed, filled with astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “Do you see the sun-dial?” asked Harley, again. + </p> + <p> + “Quite clearly.” + </p> + <p> + “And beyond it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I can see beyond it. I can even see its shadow lying like a black + band on the path.” + </p> + <p> + “And you can see the yew trees?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course.” + </p> + <p> + “But nothing else? Nothing unusual?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” said Harley, tersely. “And now, gentlemen, we take to the + rough ground, proceeding due east. Will you be good enough to follow?” + </p> + <p> + Walking around the hut he found an opening in the hedge, and scrambled + down into the place where rank grass grew and through which he and I on a + previous occasion had made our way to the high road. To-night, however, he + did not turn toward the high road, but proceeded along the crest of the + hill. + </p> + <p> + I followed him, excited by the novelty of the proceedings. Wessex, very + silent, came behind me, and Inspector Aylesbury, swearing under his + breath, waded through the long grass at the rear. + </p> + <p> + “Will you all turn your attention to the garden again, please?” cried + Harley. + </p> + <p> + We all paused, looking to the right. + </p> + <p> + “Anything unusual?” + </p> + <p> + We were agreed that there was not. + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” said my friend. “You will kindly note that from this point + onward the formation of the ground prevents our obtaining any other view + of Cray’s Folly or its gardens until we reach the path to the valley, or + turn on to the high road. From a point on the latter the tower may be seen + but that is all. The first part of my experiment is concluded, gentlemen. + We will now return.” + </p> + <p> + Giving us no opportunity for comment, he plunged on in the direction of + the stream, and at a point which I regarded as unnecessarily difficult, + crossed it, to the great discomfiture of the heavy Inspector Aylesbury. A + few minutes later we found ourselves once more in the grounds of Cray’s + Folly. + </p> + <p> + Harley, evidently with a definite objective in view, led the way up the + terraces, through the rhododendrons, and round the base of the tower. He + crossed to the sunken garden, and at the top of the steps paused. + </p> + <p> + “Be good enough to regard the sun-dial from this point,” he directed. + </p> + <p> + Even as he spoke, I caught my breath, and I heard Aylesbury utter a sort + of gasping sound. + </p> + <p> + Beyond the sun-dial and slightly to the left of it, viewed from where we + stood, a faint, elfin light flickered, at a point apparently some four or + five feet above the ground! + </p> + <p> + “What’s this?” muttered Wessex. + </p> + <p> + “Follow again, gentlemen,” said Harley quietly. + </p> + <p> + He led the way down to the garden and along the path to the sun-dial. This + he passed, pausing immediately in front of the yew tree in which I knew + the bullet to be embedded. + </p> + <p> + He did not speak, but, extending his finger, pointed. + </p> + <p> + A piece of candle, some four inches long, was attached by means of a nail + to the bark of the tree, so that its flame burned immediately in front of + the bullet embedded there! + </p> + <p> + For perhaps ten seconds no one spoke; indeed I think no one moved. Then: + </p> + <p> + “Good God!” murmured Wessex. “You have done some clever things to my + knowledge, Mr. Harley, but this crowns them all.” + </p> + <p> + “Clever things!” said Inspector Aylesbury. “I think it’s a lot of damned + tomfoolery.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you, Inspector?” asked the Scotland Yard man, quietly. “I don’t. I + think it has saved the life of an innocent man.” + </p> + <p> + “What’s that? What’s that?” cried Aylesbury. + </p> + <p> + “This candle was burning here on the yew tree,” explained Harley, “at the + time that you looked out of the window of the hut. You could not see it. + You could not see it from the crest adjoining the Guest House—the + only other spot in the neighbourhood from which this garden is visible. + Now, since the course of a bullet is more or less straight, and since the + nature of the murdered man’s wound proves that it was not deflected in any + way, I submit that the one embedded in the yew tree before you could not + possibly have been fired from the Guest House! The second part of my + experiment, gentlemen, will be designed to prove from whence it <i>was</i> + fired.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0033" id="link2HCH0033"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXIII. PAUL HARLEY’S EXPERIMENT CONCLUDED + </h2> + <p> + Up to the very moment that Paul Harley, who had withdrawn, rejoined us in + the garden, Inspector Aylesbury had not grasped the significance of that + candle burning upon the yew tree. He continued to stare at it as if + hypnotized, and when my friend re-appeared, carrying a long ash staff and + a sheet of cardboard, I could have laughed to witness the expression upon + the Inspector’s face, had I not been too deeply impressed with that which + underlay this strange business. + </p> + <p> + Wessex, on the other hand, was watching my friend eagerly, as an earnest + student in the class-room might watch a demonstration by some celebrated + lecturer. + </p> + <p> + “You will notice,” said Paul Harley, “that I have had a number of boards + laid down upon the ground yonder, near the sun-dial. They cover a spot + where the turf has worn very thin. Now, this garden, because of its sunken + position, is naturally damp. Perhaps, Wessex, you would take up these + planks for me.” + </p> + <p> + Inspector Wessex obeyed, and Harley, laying the ash stick and cardboard + upon the ground, directed the ray of an electric torch upon the spot + uncovered. + </p> + <p> + “The footprints of Colonel Menendez!” he explained. “Here he turned from + the tiled path. He advanced three paces in the direction of the sun-dial, + you observe, then stood still, facing we may suppose, since this is the + indication of the prints, in a southerly direction.” + </p> + <p> + “Straight toward the Guest House,” muttered Inspector Aylesbury. + </p> + <p> + “Roughly,” corrected Harley. “He was fronting in that direction, + certainly, but his head may have been turned either to the right or to the + left. You observe from the great depth of the toe-marks that on this spot + he actually fell. Then, here”—he moved the light—“is the + impression of his knee, and here again—” + </p> + <p> + He shone the white ray upon a discoloured patch of grass, and then + returned the lamp to his pocket. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to make a hole in the turf,” he continued, “directly between + these two footprints, which seem to indicate that the Colonel was standing + in the military position of attention at the moment that he met his + death.” + </p> + <p> + With the end of the ash stick, which was pointed, he proceeded to do this. + </p> + <p> + “Colonel Menendez,” he went on, “stood rather over six feet in his shoes. + The stick which now stands upright in the turf measures six feet, from the + chalk mark up to which I have buried it to the slot which I have cut in + the top. Into this slot I now wedge my sheet of cardboard.” + </p> + <p> + As he placed the sheet of cardboard in the slot which he had indicated, I + saw that a round hole was cut in it some six inches in diameter. We + watched these proceedings in silence, then: + </p> + <p> + “If you will allow me to adjust the candle, gentlemen,” said Harley, + “which has burned a little too low for my purpose, I shall proceed to the + second part of this experiment.” + </p> + <p> + He walked up to the yew tree, and by means of bending the nail upward he + raised the flame of the candle level with the base of the embedded bullet. + </p> + <p> + “By heavens!” cried Wessex, suddenly divining the object of these + proceedings, “Mr. Harley, this is genius!” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Wessex,” Harley replied, quietly, but nevertheless he was + unable to hide his gratification. “You see my point?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly.” + </p> + <p> + “In ten minutes we shall know the truth.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I see,” muttered Inspector Aylesbury; “we shall know the truth, eh? + If you ask me the truth, it’s this, that we are a set of lunatics.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Inspector Aylesbury,” said Harley, good humouredly, “surely you + have grasped the lesson of experiment number one?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” admitted the other, “it’s funny, certainly. I mean, it wants a lot + of explaining, but I can’t say I’m convinced.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s a pity,” murmured Wessex, “because I am.” + </p> + <p> + “You see, Inspector,” Harley continued, patiently, “the body of Colonel + Menendez as it lay formed a straight line between the sun-dial and the hut + in the garden of the Guest House. That is to say: a line drawn from the + window of the hut to the sun-dial must have passed through the body. Very + well. Such an imaginary line, if continued <i>beyond</i> the sun-dial, + would have terminated near the base of the <i>seventh yew</i> tree. + Accordingly, I naturally looked for the <i>bullet</i> there. It was not + there. But I found it, as you know, in the ninth tree. Therefore, the shot + could not possibly have been fired from the Guest House, because the spot + in the ninth yew where the bullet had lodged is not visible from the Guest + House.” + </p> + <p> + Inspector Aylesbury removed his cap and scratched his head vigorously. + </p> + <p> + “In order that we may avoid waste of valuable time,” said Harley, finally, + “let us take a hasty observation from here. As a matter of fact, I have + done so already, as nearly as was possible, without employing this rough + apparatus.” + </p> + <p> + He knelt down beside the yew tree, lowering his head so that the + candlelight shone upon the brown, eager face, and looked upward, over the + top of the sun-dial and through the hole in the cardboard. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he muttered, a note of rising excitement in his voice. “As I + thought, as I thought. Come, gentlemen, let us hurry.” + </p> + <p> + He walked rapidly out of the garden, and up the steps, whilst we followed + dumb with wonder—or such at any rate was the cause of my own + silence. + </p> + <p> + In the hall Pedro was standing, a bunch of keys in his hand, and evidently + expecting Harley. + </p> + <p> + “Will you take us by the shortest way to the tower stairs?” my friend + directed. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + Doubting, wondering, scarcely knowing whether to be fearful or jubilant, I + followed, along a carpeted corridor, and thence, a heavy, oaken door being + unlocked, across a dusty and deserted apartment apparently intended for a + drawing room. From this, through a second doorway we were led into a + small, square, unfurnished room, which I knew must be situated in the base + of the tower. Yet a third door was unlocked, and: + </p> + <p> + “Here is the stair, sir,” said Pedro. + </p> + <p> + In Indian file we mounted to the first floor, to find ourselves in a + second, identical room, also stripped of furniture and decorations. Harley + barely glanced out of the northern window, shook his head, and: + </p> + <p> + “Next floor, Pedro,” he directed. + </p> + <p> + Up we went, our footsteps arousing a cloud of dust from the uncarpeted + stairs, and the sound of our movements echoing in hollow fashion around + the deserted rooms. + </p> + <p> + Gaining the next floor, Harley, unable any longer to conceal his + excitement, ran to the north window, looked out, and: + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen,” he said, “my experiment is complete!” + </p> + <p> + He turned, his back to the window, and faced us in the dusk of the room. + </p> + <p> + “Assuming the ash stick to represent the upright body of Colonel + Menendez,” he continued, “and the sheet of cardboard to represent his + head, the hole which I have cut in it corresponds fairly nearly to the + position of his forehead. Further assuming the bullet to have illustrated + Euclid’s definition of a straight line, such a line, <i>followed back</i> + from the yew tree to the spot where the rifle rested, would pass through + the hole in the cardboard! In other words, there is only one place from + which it is possible to see the flame of the candle <i>through the hole in + the cardboard</i>: the place where the rifle rested! Stand here in the + left-hand angle of the window and stoop down! Will you come first, Knox?” + </p> + <p> + I stepped across the room, bent down, and stared out of the window, across + the Tudor garden. Plainly I could see the sun-dial with the ash stick + planted before it. I could see the piece of cardboard which surmounted it—and, + through the hole cut in the cardboard, I could see the feeble flame of the + candle nailed to the ninth yew tree! + </p> + <p> + I stood upright, knowing that I had grown pale, and conscious of a moist + sensation upon my forehead. + </p> + <p> + “Merciful God!” I said in a hollow voice. “It was from <i>this window</i> + that the shot was fired which killed him!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0034" id="link2HCH0034"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXIV. THE CREEPING SICKNESS + </h2> + <p> + From the ensuing consultation in the library we did not rise until close + upon midnight. To the turbid intelligence of Inspector Aylesbury the fact + by this time had penetrated that Colin Camber was innocent, that he was + the victim of a frame-up, and that Colonel Juan Menendez had been shot + from a window of his own house. + </p> + <p> + By a process of lucid reasoning which must have convinced a junior + schoolboy, Paul Harley, there in the big library, with its garish + bookcases and its Moorish ornaments, had eliminated every member of the + household from the list of suspects. His concluding words, I remember, + were as follows: + </p> + <p> + “Of the known occupants of Cray’s Folly on the night of the tragedy we now + find ourselves reduced to four, any one of whom, from the point of view of + an impartial critic uninfluenced by personal character, question, or + motive, or any consideration other than that of physical possibility, + might have shot Colonel Menendez. They are, firstly: Myself. + </p> + <p> + “In order to believe me guilty, it would be necessary to discount the + evidence of Knox, who saw me on the gravel path below at the time that the + shot was fired from the tower window. + </p> + <p> + “Secondly: Knox; whose guilt, equally, could only be assumed by means of + eliminating <i>my</i> evidence, since I saw him at the window of my room + at the time that the shot was fired. + </p> + <p> + “Thirdly: Madame de Stämer. Regarding this suspect, in the first place she + could not have gained access to the tower room without assistance, and in + the second place she was so passionately devoted to the late Colonel + Menendez that Dr. Rolleston is of opinion that her reason may remain + permanently impaired by the shock of his death. Fourthly and lastly: Miss + Val Beverley.” + </p> + <p> + Over my own feelings, as he had uttered the girl’s name, I must pass in + silence. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Val Beverley is the only one of the four suspects who is not in a + position to establish a sound alibi so far as I can see at the moment; but + in this case entire absence of motive renders the suspicion absurd. Having + dealt with the <i>known</i> occupants, I shall not touch upon the + possibility that some stranger had gained access to the house. This opens + up a province of speculation which we must explore at greater leisure, for + it would be profitless to attempt such an exploration now.” + </p> + <p> + Thus the gathering had broken up, Inspector Aylesbury returning to Market + Hilton to make his report and to release Colin Camber and Ah Tsong, and + Wessex to seek his quarters at the Lavender Arms. + </p> + <p> + I remember that having seen them off, Harley and I stood in the hall, + staring at one another in a very odd way, and so we stood when Val + Beverley came quietly from Madame de Stämer’s room and spoke to us. + </p> + <p> + “Pedro has told me what you have done, Mr. Harley,” she said in a low + voice. “Oh, thank God you have cleared him. But what, in Heaven’s name, + does your new discovery mean?” + </p> + <p> + “You may well ask,” Harley answered, grimly. “If my first task was a hard + one, that which remains before me looks more nearly hopeless than anything + I have ever been called upon to attempt.” + </p> + <p> + “It is horrible, it is horrible,” said the girl, shudderingly. “Oh, Mr. + Knox,” she turned to me, “I have felt all along that there was some + stranger in the house——” + </p> + <p> + “You have told me so.” + </p> + <p> + “Conundrums! Conundrums!” muttered Harley, irritably. “Where am I to + begin, upon what am I to erect any feasible theory?” He turned abruptly to + Val Beverley. “Does Madame de Stämer know?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she answered, nodding her head; “and hearing the others depart, she + asked me to tell you that sleep is impossible until you have personally + given her the details of your discovery.” + </p> + <p> + “She wishes to see me?” asked Harley, eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “She insists upon seeing you,” replied the girl, “and also requests Mr. + Knox to visit her.” She paused, biting her lip. “Madame’s manner is very, + very odd. Dr. Rolleston cannot understand her at all. I expect he has told + you? She has been sitting there for hours and hours, writing.” + </p> + <p> + “Writing?” exclaimed Harley. “Letters?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know what she has been writing,” confessed Val Beverley. “She declines + to tell me, or to show me what she has written. But there is quite a + little stack of manuscript upon the table beside her bed. Won’t you come + in?” + </p> + <p> + I could see that she was more troubled than she cared to confess, and I + wondered if Dr. Rolleston’s unpleasant suspicions might have solid + foundation, and if the loss of her cousin had affected Madame de Stämer’s + brain. + </p> + <p> + Presently, then, ushered by Val Beverley, I found myself once more in the + violet and silver room in which on that great bed of state Madame reclined + amid silken pillows. Her art never deserted her, not even in moments of + ultimate stress, and that she had prepared herself for this interview was + evident enough. + </p> + <p> + I had thought previously that one night of horror had added five years to + her apparent age. I thought now that she looked radiantly beautiful. That + expression in her eyes, which I knew I must forevermore associate with the + memory of the dying tigress, had faded entirely. They remained still, as + of old, but to-night they were velvety soft. The lips were relaxed in a + smile of tenderness. I observed, with surprise, that she wore much + jewelery, and upon her white bosom gleamed the famous rope of pearls which + I knew her to treasure above almost anything in her possession. + </p> + <p> + Again the fear touched me coldly that much sorrow had made her mad. But at + her very first word of greeting I was immediately reassured. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, my friend,” she said, as I entered, a caressing note in her deep, + vibrant voice, “you have great news, they tell me? Mr. Harley, I was + afraid that you had deserted me, sir. If you had done so I should have + been very angry with you. Set the two armchairs here on my right, Val, + dear, and sit close beside me.” + </p> + <p> + Then, as we seated ourselves: + </p> + <p> + “You are not smoking, my friends,” she continued, “and I know that you are + both so fond of a smoke.” + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley excused himself but I accepted a cigarette which Val Beverley + offered me from a silver box on the table, and presently: + </p> + <p> + “I am here, like a prisoner of the Bastille,” declared Madame, shrugging + her shoulders, “where only echoes reach me. Now, Mr. Harley, tell me of + this wonderful discovery of yours.” + </p> + <p> + Harley inclined his head gravely, and in that succinct fashion which he + had at command acquainted Madame with the result of his two experiments. + As he completed the account: + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” she sighed, and lay back upon her pillows, “so to-night he is again + a free man, the poor Colin Camber. And his wife is happy once more?” + </p> + <p> + “Thank God,” I murmured. “Her sorrow was pathetic.” + </p> + <p> + “Only the pure in heart can thank God,” said Madame, strangely, “but I, + too, am glad. I have written, here”—she pointed to a little heap of + violet note-paper upon a table placed at the opposite side of the bed—“how + glad I am.” + </p> + <p> + Harley and I stared vaguely across at the table. I saw Val Beverley + glancing uneasily in the same direction. Save for the writing materials + and little heap of manuscript, it held only a cup and saucer, a few + sandwiches, and a medicine bottle containing the prescription which Dr. + Rolleston had made up for the invalid. + </p> + <p> + “I am curious to know what you have written, Madame,” declared Harley. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you are curious?” she said. “Very well, then, I will tell you, and + afterward you may read if you wish.” She turned to me. “You, my friend,” + she whispered, and reaching over she laid her jewelled hand upon my arm, + “you have spoken with Ysola de Valera this afternoon, they tell me?” + </p> + <p> + “With Mrs. Camber?” I asked, startled. “Yes, that is true.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Mrs. Camber,” murmured Madame. “I knew her as Ysola de Valera. She is + beautiful, in her golden doll way. You think so?” Then, ere I had time to + reply: “She told you, I suppose, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “She told me,” I replied with a certain embarrassment, “that she had met + you some years ago in Cuba.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes, although <i>I</i> told the fat Inspector it was not so. How we + lie, we women! And of course she told you in what relation I stood to Juan + Menendez?” + </p> + <p> + “She did not, Madame de Stämer.” + </p> + <p> + “No-no? Well, it was nice of her. No matter. <i>I</i> will tell you. I was + his mistress.” + </p> + <p> + She spoke without bravado, but quite without shame, seeming to glory in + the statement. + </p> + <p> + “I met him in Paris,” she continued, half closing her eyes. “I was staying + at the house of my sister, and my sister, you understand, was married to + Juan’s cousin. That is how we met. I was married. Yes, it is true. But in + France our parents find our husbands and our lovers find our hearts. Yet + sometimes these marriages are happy. To me this good thing had not + happened, and in the moment when Juan’s hand touched mine a living fire + entered into my heart and it has been burning ever since; burning-burning, + always till I die. + </p> + <p> + “Very well, I am a shameless woman, yes. But I have lived, and I have + loved, and I am content. I went with him to Cuba, and from Cuba to another + island where he had estates, and the name of which I shall not pronounce, + because it hurts me so, even yet. There he set eyes upon Ysola de Valera, + the daughter of his manager, and, pouf!” + </p> + <p> + She shrugged and snapped her fingers. + </p> + <p> + “He was like that, you understand? I knew it well. They did not call him + Devil Menendez for nothing. There was a scene, a dreadful scene, and after + that another, and yet a third. I have pride. If I had seemed to forget it, + still it was there. I left him, and went back to France. I tried to + forget. I entered upon works of charity for the soldiers at a time when + others were becoming tired. I spent a great part of my fortune upon + establishing a hospital, and this child”—she threw her arm around + Val Beverley—“worked with me night and day. I think I wanted to die. + Often I tried to die. Did I not, dear?” + </p> + <p> + “You did, Madame,” said the girl in a very low voice. + </p> + <p> + “Twice I was arrested in the French lines, where I had crept dressed like + a <i>poilu</i>, from where I shot down many a Prussian. Is it not so?” + </p> + <p> + “It is true,” answered the girl, nodding her head. + </p> + <p> + “They caught me and arrested me,” said Madame, with a sort of triumph. “If + it had been the British”—she raised her hand in that Bernhardt + gesture—“with me it would have gone hard. But in France a woman’s + smile goes farther than in England. I had had my fun. They called me ‘good + comrade!’ Perhaps I paid with a kiss. What does it matter? But they heard + of me, those Prussian dogs. They knew and could not forgive. How often did + they come over to bomb us, Val, dear?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, many, many times,” said the girl, shudderingly. + </p> + <p> + “And at last they succeeded,” added Madame, bitterly. “God! the black + villains! Let me not think of it.” + </p> + <p> + She clenched her hands and closed her eyes entirely, but presently resumed + again: + </p> + <p> + “If they had killed me I should have been glad, but they only made of me a + cripple. M. de Stämer had been killed a few weeks before this. I am sorry + I forgot to mention it. I was a widow. And when after this catastrophe I + could be moved, I went to a little villa belonging to my husband at Nice, + to gain strength, and this child came with me, like a ray of sunshine. + </p> + <p> + “Here, to wake the fire in my heart, came Juan, deserted, broken, wounded + in soul, but most of all in pride, in that evil pride which belongs to his + race, which is so different from the pride of France, but for which all + the same I could never hate him. + </p> + <p> + “Ysola de Valera had run away from his great house in Cuba. Yes! A woman + had dared to leave him, the man who had left so many women. To me it was + pathetic. I was sorry for him. He had been searching the world for her. He + loved this little golden-haired girl as he had never loved me. But to me + he came with his broken heart, and I”—her voice trembled—“I + took him back. He still cared for me, you understand. Ah!” She laughed. “I + am not a woman who is lightly forgotten. But the great passion that burned + in his Spanish soul was revenge. + </p> + <p> + “He was a broken man not only in mind, but in body. Let me tell you. In + that island which I have not named there is a horrible disease called by + the natives the Creeping Sickness. It is supposed to come from a poisonous + place named the Black Belt, and a part of this Black Belt is near, too + near, to the hacienda in which Juan sometimes lived.” + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley started and glanced at me significantly. + </p> + <p> + “They think, those simple negroes, that it is witchcraft, Voodoo, the work + of the Obeah man. It is of two kinds, rapid and slow. Those who suffer + from the first kind just decline and decline and die in great agony. + Others recover, or seem to do so. It is, I suppose, a matter of + constitution. Juan had had this sickness and had recovered, or so the + doctors said, but, ah!” + </p> + <p> + She lay back, shaking her finger characteristically. + </p> + <p> + “In one year, in two, three, a swift pain comes, like a needle, you + understand? Perhaps in the foot, in the hand, in the arm. It is exquisite, + deathly, while it lasts, but it only lasts for a few moments. It is agony. + And then it goes, leaving nothing to show what has caused it. But, my + friends, it is a death warning! + </p> + <p> + “If it comes here”—she raised one delicate white hand—“you may + have five years to live; if in the foot, ten, or more. But”—she sank + her voice dramatically—“the nearer it is to the heart, the less are + the days that remain to you of life.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean that it recurs?” asked Harley. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps in a week, perhaps not for another year, it comes again, that + quick agony. This time in the shoulder, in the knee. It is the second + warning. Three times it may come, four times, but at last”—she laid + her hand upon her breast—“it comes here, in the heart, and all is + finished.” + </p> + <p> + She paused as if exhausted, closing her eyes again, whilst we three who + listened looked at one another in an awestricken silence, until the + vibrant voice resumed: + </p> + <p> + “There is only one man in Europe who understands this thing, this Creeping + Sickness. He is a Frenchman who lives in Paris. To him Juan had been, and + he had told him, this clever man, ‘If you are very quiet and do not exert + yourself, and only take as much exercise as is necessary for your general + health, you have one year to live—‘” + </p> + <p> + “My God!” groaned Harley. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, such was the verdict. And there is no cure. The poor sufferer must + wait and wait, always wait, for that sudden pang, not knowing if it will + come in his heart and be the finish. Yes. This living death, then, and + revenge, were the things ruling Juan’s life at the time of which I tell + you. He had traced Ysola de Valera to England. A chance remark in a London + hotel had told him that a Chinaman had been seen in a Surrey village and + of course had caused much silly chatter. He enquired at once, and he found + out that Colin Camber, the man who had taken Ysola from him, was living + with her at the Guest House, here, on the hill. How shall I tell you the + rest?” + </p> + <p> + “Merciful Heaven!” exclaimed Harley, his glance set upon her, with a sort + of horror in his gray eyes, “I think I can guess.” + </p> + <p> + She turned to him rapidly. + </p> + <p> + “M. Harley,” she said, “you are a clever man. I believe you are a genius. + And I have the strength to tell you because I am happy to-night. Because + of his great wealth Juan succeeded in buying Cray’s Folly from Sir James + Appleton to whom it belonged. He told everybody he leased it, but really + he bought it. He paid him more than twice its value, and so obtained + possession. + </p> + <p> + “But the plan was not yet complete, although it had taken form in that + clever, wicked brain of his. Oh! I could tell you stories of the Menendez, + and of the things they have done for love and revenge, which even you, who + know much of life, would doubt, I think. Yes, you would not believe. But + to continue. Shall I tell you upon what terms he had returned to me, eh? I + will. Once more he would suffer that pang of death in life, for he had + courage, ah! such great courage, and then, when the waiting for the next + grew more than even his fearless heart could bear, I, who also had + courage, and who loved him, should——” She paused, “Do you + understand?” + </p> + <p> + Harley nodded dumbly, and suddenly I found Val Beverley’s little fingers + twined about mine. + </p> + <p> + “I agreed,” continued the deep voice. “It was a boon which I, too, would + have asked from one who loved me. But to die, knowing another cherished + the woman who had been torn from him, was an impossibility for Juan + Menendez. What he had schemed to do at first I never knew. But presently, + because of our situation here, and because of that which he had asked of + me, it came, the great plan. + </p> + <p> + “On the night he told me, a night I shall never forget, I drew back in + horror from him—I, Marie de Stämer, who thought I knew the blackest + that was in him. I shrank. And because of that scene it came to him again + in the early morning—the moment of agony, the needle pain, here, low + down in his left breast. + </p> + <p> + “He pleaded with me to do the wicked thing that he had planned, and + because I dared not refuse, knowing he might die at my feet, I consented. + But, my friends, I had my own plan, too, of which he knew nothing. On the + next day he went to Paris, and was told he had two months to live, with + great, such great care, but perhaps only a week, a day, if he should + permit his hot passions to inflame that threatened heart. Very well. + </p> + <p> + “I said yes, yes, to all that he suggested, and he began to lay the trail—the + trail to lead to his enemy. It was his hobby, this vengeance. He was like + a big, cruel boy. It was he, himself, Juan Menendez, who broke into Cray’s + Folly. It was he who nailed the bat wing to the door. It was he who bought + two rifles of a kind of which so many millions were made during the war + that anybody might possess one. And it was he who concealed the first of + these, one cartridge discharged, under the floor of the hut in the garden + of the Guest House. The other, which was to be used, he placed—” + </p> + <p> + “In the shutter-case of one of the tower rooms,” continued Paul Harley. “I + know! I found it there to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” I asked, “you found it, Harley?” + </p> + <p> + “I returned to look for it,” he said. “At the present moment it is + upstairs in my room.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, M. Harley,” exclaimed Madame, smiling at him radiantly, “I love your + genius. Then it was,” she continued, “that he thought himself ready, ready + for revenge and ready for death. He summoned you, M. Harley, to be an + expert witness. He placed with you evidence which could not fail to lead + to the arrest of M. Camber. Very well. I allowed him to do all this. His + courage, <i>mon Dieu</i>, how I worshipped his courage! + </p> + <p> + “At night, when everyone slept, and he could drop the mask, I have seen + what he suffered. I have begged him, begged him upon my knees, to allow me + to end it then and there; to forget his dream of revenge, to die without + this last stain upon his soul. But he, expecting at any hour, at any + minute, to know again the agony which cannot be described, which is unlike + any other suffered by the flesh—refused, refused! And I”—she + raised her eyes ecstatically—“I have worshipped this courage of his, + although it was evil—bad. + </p> + <p> + “The full moon gives the best light, and so he planned it for the night of + the full moon. But on the night before, because of some scene which he had + with you, M. Harley, nearly I thought his plans would come to nothing. + Nearly I thought the last act of love which he asked of me would never be + performed. He sat there, up in the little room which he liked best, the + coldness upon him which always came before the pang, waiting, waiting, a + deathly dew on his forehead, for the end; and I, I who loved him better + than life, watched him. And, so Fate willed it, the pang never came.” + </p> + <p> + “You watched him?” I whispered. + </p> + <p> + Harley turned to me slowly. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you understand, Knox?” he said, in a voice curiously unlike his + own. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, my friend,” Madame de Stämer laid her hand upon my arm with that + caressing gesture which I knew, “you do understand, don’t you? The power + to use my limbs returned to me during the last week that I lived in Nice.” + </p> + <p> + She bent forward and raised her face, in an almost agonized appeal to Val + Beverley. + </p> + <p> + “My dear, my dear,” she said, “forgive me, forgive me! But I loved him so. + One day, I think”—her glance sought my face—“you will know. + Then you will forgive.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Madame, Madame,” whispered the girl, and began to sob silently. + </p> + <p> + “Is it enough?” asked Madame de Stämer, raising her head, and looking + defiantly at Paul Harley. “Last night, you, M. Harley, who have genius, + nearly brought it all to nothing. You passed the door in the shrubbery + just when Juan was preparing to go out. I was watching from the window + above. Then, when you had gone, he came out—smoking his last + cigarette. + </p> + <p> + “I went to my place, entering the tower room by the door from that + corridor. I opened the window. It had been carefully oiled. It was + soundless. I was cold as one already dead, but love made me strong. I had + seen him suffer. I took the rifle from its hiding-place, the heavy rifle + which so few women could use. It was no heavier than some which I had used + before, and to good purpose.” + </p> + <p> + Again she paused, and I saw her lips trembling. Before my mind’s eye the + picture arose which I had seen from Harley’s window, the picture of + Colonel Juan Menendez walking in the moonlight along the path to the + sun-dial, with halting steps, with clenched fists, but upright as a + soldier on parade. Walking on, dauntlessly, to his execution. Out of a + sort of haze, which seemed to obscure both sight and hearing, I heard + Madame speaking again. + </p> + <p> + “He turned his head toward me. He threw me a kiss—and I fired. Did + you think a woman lived who could perform such a deed, eh? If you did not + think so, it is because you have never looked into the eyes of one who + loved with her body, her mind, and with her soul. I think, yes, I think I + went mad. The rifle I remember I replaced. But I remember no more. Ah!” + </p> + <p> + She sighed in a resigned, weary way, untwining her arm from about Val + Beverley, and falling back upon her pillows. + </p> + <p> + “It is all written here,” she said; “every word of it, my friends, and + signed at the bottom. I am a murderess, but it was a merciful deed. You + see, I had a plan of which Juan knew nothing. This was my plan.” She + pointed to the heap of manuscript. “I would give him relief from his + agonies, yes. For although he was an evil man, I loved him better than + life. I would let him die happy, thinking his revenge complete. But others + to suffer? No, no! a thousand times no! Ah, I am so tired.” + </p> + <p> + She took up the little medicine bottle, poured its contents into the + glass, and emptied it at a draught. + </p> + <p> + Paul Harley, as though galvanized, sprang to his feet. “My God!” he cried, + huskily, “Stop her, stop her!” Val Beverley, now desperately white, + clutched at me with quivering fingers, her agonized glance set upon the + smiling face of Madame de Stämer. + </p> + <p> + “No fuss, dear friends,” said Madame, gently, “no trouble, no nasty + stomach-pumps; for it is useless. I shall just fall asleep in a few + moments now, and when I wake Juan will be with me.” + </p> + <p> + Her face was radiant. It became lighted up magically. I knew in that grim + hour what a beautiful woman Madame de Stämer must have been. She rested + her hand upon Val Beverley’s head, and looked at me with her strange, + still eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Be good to her, my friend,” she whispered. “She is English, but not cold + like some. She, too, can love.” + </p> + <p> + She closed her eyes and dropped back upon her pillows for the last time. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0035" id="link2HCH0035"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXV. AN AFTERWORD + </h2> + <p> + This shall be a brief afterword, for I have little else to say. As Madame + had predicted, all antidotes and restoratives were of no avail. She had + taken enough of some drug which she had evidently had in her possession + for this very purpose to ensure that there should be no awakening, and + although Dr. Rolleston was on the spot within half an hour, Madame de + Stämer was already past human aid. + </p> + <p> + There are perhaps one or two details which may be of interest. For + instance, as a result of the post-mortem examination of Colonel Menendez, + no trace of disease was discovered in any of the organs, but from + information supplied by his solicitors, Harley succeeded in tracing the + Paris specialist to whom Madame de Stämer had referred; and he confirmed + her statement in every particular. The disease, to which he gave some name + which I have forgotten, was untraceable, he declared, by any means thus + far known to science. + </p> + <p> + As we had anticipated, the bulk of Colonel Don Juan’s wealth he had + bequeathed to Madame de Stämer, and she in turn had provided that all of + which she might die possessed should be divided between certain charities + and Val Beverley. + </p> + <p> + I thus found myself at the time when all these legal processes terminated + engaged to marry a girl as wealthy as she was beautiful. Therefore, except + for the many grim memories which it had left with me, nothing but personal + good fortune resulted from my sojourn at Cray’s Folly, beneath the shadow + of that Bat Wing which had had no existence outside the cunning + imagination of Colonel Juan Menendez. + </p> + <h3> + THE END + </h3> + <div style="height: 6em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Bat Wing, by Sax Rohmer + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BAT WING *** + +***** This file should be named 6382-h.htm or 6382-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/8/6382/ + + +Text file produced by Anne Soulard, Charles Franks and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team + +HTML file produced by David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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