A. Eric Bayly

“ He returned to the bedroom, and relieved Mrs. Featherston, taking a seat by his father's side.
"Daddy," he said, when the door closed upon the genial housekeeper, "I'm playing the part of an amateur detective. My one aim just now is to get to the bottom of the mystery of the two determined attacks on your life. It's no use for you to try to deceive me. You have some deep secret—something is haunting you every moment of your existence; and I shall not rest until I have discovered what it is."
"Laurence, don't, don't try! It's for your own sake that I ask it of you. ”

“ Laurence gasped with amazement. If this were the case—that is, if a maniac were really imprisoned in the house—was it not more than possible that he it was who had made the savage attack on the Squire, and who had been hiding since the night of the attack in the Manse barn?
"Tell me, what is he like?" he asked eagerly.
The "Major," or rather, Doctor Meadows, as he really was, looked at him with a puzzled expression on his well-formed features.
"He is gigantic," was his answer, after a moment's pause; "terribly powerful and repulsively ugly, but pray have no fear on that account. ”

“ Not a ray of light pierced the grim darkness. Not a sound was audible save that of his own footsteps. The air was heavy with an odour of decay. Altogether the experience was one which an ordinary person would not relish. But then, as has been said, Laurence was no ordinary person. He hardly knew what fear was; the only time he had been really unnerved being after his experiences in tracking the cyclist on the moor. Every moment he considered it possible that he might encounter the man he believed to be lurking in the many possible hiding-places that there seemed to be. ”

“ CHAPTER XXIII THE MYSTERY OF THE MANSE BARN
"By all that's wonderful," cried Laurence to Lena after the solemn mid-day meal was at an end, "if I haven't forgotten about the clue Mr. Oliver Potter so generously gave me! Let me think—he said if I went to the cupboard in the Squire's bedroom I should find a cardboard box containing something which would prove of use in our investigation. If you will wait here for half a minute (I know you will excuse me) I will fetch the box, and we will pry into its mysterious contents." ”

“ Laurence!" he almost shrieked on catching sight of Carrington; "they're after him! They'll kill him! They'll tear him in pieces! Quick, quick! What can be done, sir? Oh, they'll hang me for murder!"
"Calm yourself, my dear Nichols," replied Laurence, "and tell me distinctly what's the matter. Anything happened to the Marquis?"
"No, sir," replied Nichols, trembling with fear; "the Markiss's all right, but it's your visitor!"
"What visitor?"
"Why, the gent with the black face and the dress!"
"Gent with black face and dress!" echoed Laurence. "Quick, what do you mean? What has happened to him?" ”

“ His first duty had been that of "nurse," now his detective instincts asserted themselves. While he had waited to learn whether the Squire yet lived, he had allowed the would-be murderer time to make good his escape. But he hurriedly opened the door of the sick-room and peered out into the dark passage. Not a sound disturbed the silence of night. Mr. Potter muttered something of the nature of an oath as he realised how he had been caught napping in both senses of the word. The heartless son, Laurence, of whose guilt he was so confident, had nearly got the better of him. ”

“ To his astonishment he perceived that the man who had taken refuge in the tree was Horncastle, the convict servant from Durley Dene!
Now they had left the village—straggling though it was—far behind them. The road began to get steeper and steeper. They were ascending to the great moor. The pace began to tell upon the mare, and Laurence, being out of training, was beginning to feel pains in his calves; but still they kept on, the cyclist now abreast with the horseman.
How was it possible that a man on foot could keep up such a pace?—such was Nichols' thought. Laurence did not wonder. ”

“ Now, whatever his enemies (if he has any) may say against James Moggin, no one can deny the fact that, for a man of his age, his behaviour on the night when his carriage was "held up" on the North Moor was meritorious. On discovering that the "impident rascal" had deliberately broken one of the coach windows with the butt of a pistol, the worthy coachman's rage knew no bounds. Leaving his well trained but trembling horses, and still clasping the whip in his hand, he scrambled down from the box and fell upon the cyclist in the rear. ”

“ Laurence felt her fingers clutch his arm as she exclaimed, under her breath—
"Look! there's a man creeping along the side of the yard. There, beyond the lawn, just a few feet from the wall."
Laurence stared out into the semi-darkness in the direction towards which his companion was pointing.
She was right. There was somebody moving along towards the palisade on the boundary between the Manse and Durley Dene. It was a man, groping and crouching in the shadows, evidently fearing lest he should be seen from the house. ”

“ One thing, though, I can do, and that is to help you to run this fiendish creature to earth. This I may as well tell you: the person who is haunting your father—the fear of whose coming has, indeed, haunted him for years—is not a woman, as you have at one time imagined. It is a man. And with all respect for your detective-nurse, his motive is neither jealousy, anarchy, nor robbery. It is revenge!" [Pg 147]
"I must say that I always considered that such must be the case," said Laurence; "hence my inclination to believe it was the poacher who swore to be even with my father one day." ”

“ You know the saying, 'Woman is weak'? Well, perhaps this crusty old lady is no exception to the rule. She may be assailable by bribes, or possibly by threats; but, in any case, it will be easier to attack her, metaphorically speaking, than the men in their own castle, to which it would probably be impossible for us to gain access."
Laurence agreed. The idea, hardly practicable as it seemed to be, was at any rate better than his own of going straight to the seat of the mystery and showing his hand in an interview, which he might or might not be allowed, with Major Jones-Farnell. ”

“ Mutual love in such cases as ours is hard to conceal—particularly from a woman—and Mrs. Rawson quickly perceived things after I had visited the house a few times. She communicated her suspicions to her husband, and a tremendous row was the result—the upshot of which was that I changed my regiment for one embarking for India, bade my loved one a pitiful farewell, re-echoed my vows of constancy, promising to return when, judging by Rawson's standard, I was in a position to claim Edith as my bride, and left England for the great Eastern Empire. ”

“ A retiring disposition is no crime—at least, so my knowledge of legal subjects leads me to believe."
"Of course not," responded Laurence angrily; "kindly do not prevaricate. But, by the way, how did you send me that message this morning?"
"As to that, my servant is the best person for you to apply to for an answer. I presume, though, that he delivered the note by means of his catapult, a weapon and instrument in the use of which he is extremely proficient. You must excuse the mode of delivery. I am short-handed—my establishment consists of myself and my man." ”

“ The Squire pointed towards Mr. Oliver Potter, who stood at Laurence's side in a great state of trepidation on hearing the patient's cordial greeting to his son.
The detective felt almost inclined to indulge in profanity. He had been led off on a wrong scent. So much was very plain. "For once in your life, Oliver Potter," he muttered to himself, "you've made a bad blunder."
"Who is this person?" again asked Mr. Carrington. "Surely you have not engaged a fresh servant? It isn't the doctor, is it? Laurence, I don't like new faces. Ask that gentleman what he is doing here." ”

“ There was silence for a few moments when the end of the Squire's story was reached. Then Laurence said—
"The mystery is well-nigh solved. We can now see what blunders we have made, how we have unjustly suspected 'Doctor Meadows' (or whatever his name is) , and been led a dance by the freaks of coincidence. Our suspect, Meadows, has proved to be not only innocent of the charges we brought against him, but the man who, by some means we have yet to learn, has been able to put into our hands the key to the mystery. ”

“ I can always tell a gentleman by his boots and a lady by her fingers—rings, you know. If you are a gentleman presumably your father is also."
It was Laurence's turn to smile. He perceived that Mr. Potter was trying to impress him, but he was not impressed in the least.
"You're going to treat this case too lightly," he said; "it's something out of the common. There are none of your cheap-fictional secret societies in [Pg 119] this mystery. There's something much deeper in it than that. A plot it is, and a well-laid one, too, that will take even you a fair amount of skill to bring to light." ”

“ Now, in the recent conversation I had with my father, he told me that the only person who ever knew anything about his secret (except, of course, the creature who is responsible for the attempt on his life) is dead. Yet Meadows claims a knowledge of that secret. One of the two is not adhering to the truth. Naturally, I am inclined to think that Meadows is this one, though I confess it appears possible that my father might not be too careful about speaking the whole truth if he feared by so doing to place in my hand a clue to the revelation of his secret. ”

“ Take my word for it, Miss Scott, we are neither of us born to be investigators of mystery."
"How dare you say so!" replied the girl, with pretended anger, "when I have this very day made a most startling discovery, which may lead to the revelation of 'Doctor Meadows'' secret." [Pg 231]
"Oh," cried Laurence, "is that so? Of course, I mean that I am the poor hand at detective work, and you——"
"A poorer," Lena ended the sentence. "But for all that I really have made a strange discovery." ”

“ Laurence had asked himself time after time as he stood by the bedside. It must surely be that the second attempt on the helpless old man's life had been made by his terrible foe—the attempt that he had been dreading since that night on the moor.
Lena met him in the passage. She had prevailed upon her aunt to go to bed, and now was returning for news.
"Oh, isn't it awful to think of the fiend who has done this!" she cried, after learning that the Squire might yet live. "To think that your father is encompassed by a fearful, lurking danger, more horrible than that of the battle-field. ”

“ CHAPTER XXVI LIGHT IN DARK PLACES
"No, I can tell you nothing further," said "Doctor Orlando Meadows," in reply to Laurence's eager requests for information; "but even what little I have told you throws light upon much that was formerly dark to you. For instance, now you know the solution of the mystery of the padded footprints. The Thug, like many native Indians of his class—a low one—swathes his feet in strips of linen stuff. ”

“ The shadows on the men's faces, the cunningly wrought panelling of the great lonesome hall, the air of mystery that seemed to hang about the place—all these made the picture one that Laurence never forgot.
"Well," asked Meadows, "why have you not caught him?"
"The darkness," explained the convict servant, "the darkness, the awful darkness! I'd stand up to any man in the kingdoms, but that cursed silence and gloom and its 'orrors are a bit too much. ”

“ That was why I asked you if it was possible that a housemaid with a pail passed the half-open bedroom door when the attack was made. Again, should a murdering Thug see his victim's face reflected in water or a mirror, he will, for the same reason, stop in the very middle of his work. But one of the worst omens—a sign that Kalee is greatly displeased—is the passing of a small chattering bird, or a bat, while the murder is being carried out. The bat which by chance had got into your father's room must have fluttered about when the assassin was carrying out his foul deed. ”

“ On the contrary, I am more in the dark than ever, for in addition to the secret of the man's enmity against your father, we have now to discover who is the strange creature of the shrill voice and ape-like agility, what his connection is with the people of the Dene, and, lastly, why, as I am firmly convinced, he is imprisoned in the basement of the house you visited last night. ”

“ On the other hand, he knew women to be credited with the bump of loquacity, and it was far from his intentions that his father should get to know of the efforts he was making to unravel the mystery surrounding old Mr. Carrington's terrible dread. In a conversation he had had that morning with the Squire, on being pressed by Laurence to confess that his fear was of something more than burglars, Mr. Carrington had begged his son not to allude to the subject at all. He could not, he said, and he would not, explain what the secret of his life was. ”