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  CHAPTER XXXIII

  THE OLD TOWER

  My mother was at her knitting, in her easy-chair, in her own particularcorner of the living-room when I rushed in, and though she started at thesight of me, she went on knitting as methodically as if all the world wasregular as her own stitches.

  "So you've come to your own roof at last, my man!" she said, with a touchof the sharpness that she could put into her tongue on occasion. "There'sthem would say you'd forgotten the way to it, judging by experience--whydid you not let me know you were not coming home last night, and you inthe town, as I hear from other folks?"

  "Oh, mother!" I exclaimed. "How can you ask such questions when you knowhow things are!--it was midnight when Mr. Lindsey and I got in fromNewcastle, and he would make me stop with him--and we were away again toEdinburgh first thing in the morning."

  "Aye, well, if Mr. Lindsey likes to spend his money flying about thecountry, he's welcome!" she retorted. "But I'll be thankful when yousettle down to peaceful ways again. Where are you going now?" shedemanded. "There's a warm supper for you in the oven!"

  "I've had my supper at Mr. Lindsey's, mother," I said, as I dragged mybicycle out of the back-place. "I've just got to go out, whether I willor no, and I don't know when I'll be in, either--do you think I can sleepin my bed when I don't know where Maisie is?"

  "You'll not do much good, Hugh, where the police have failed," sheanswered. "There's yon man Chisholm been here during the evening, and hetells me they haven't come across a trace of her, so far."

  "Chisholm's been here, then?" I exclaimed. "For no more than that?"

  "Aye, for no more than that," she replied. "And then this very noonthere was that Irishwoman that kept house for Crone, asking at thedoor for you."

  "What, Nance Maguire!" I said. "What did she want?"

  "You!" retorted my mother. "Nice sort of people we have coming to ourdoor in these times! Police, and murderers, and Irish--"

  "Did she say why she wanted me?" I interrupted her.

  "I gave her no chance," said my mother. "Do you think I was going to holdtalk with a creature like that at my steps?"

  "I'd hold talk with the devil himself, mother, if I could get somenews of Maisie!" I flung back at her as I made off. "You're as bad asAndrew Dunlop!"

  There was the house door between her and me before she could reply tothat, and the next instant I had my bicycle on the road and my leg overthe saddle, and was hesitating before I put my foot to the pedal. Whatdid Nance Maguire want of me? Had she any news of Maisie? It was odd thatshe should come down--had I better not ride up the town and see her? ButI reflected that if she had any news--which was highly improbable--shewould give it to the police; and so anxious was I to test what Scott hadhinted at, that I swung on to my machine without further delay orreflection and went off towards Hathercleugh.

  And as I crossed the old bridge, in the opening murmur of a coming storm,I had an illumination which came as suddenly as the first flash oflightning that followed just afterwards. It had been a matter ofastonishment to me all day long that nobody, with the exception of theone man at East Ord, had noticed Maisie as she went along the roadbetween Berwick and Mindrum on the previous evening--now I remembered,blaming myself for not having remembered it before, that there was ashort cut, over a certain right-of-way, through the grounds ofHathercleugh House, which would save her a good three miles in herjourney. She would naturally be anxious to get to her aunt as quickly aspossible; she would think of the nearest way--she would take it. And nowI began to understand the whole thing: Maisie had gone into the groundsof Hathercleugh, and--she had never left them!

  The realization made me sick with fear. The idea of my girl being trappedby such a villain as I firmly believed the man whom we knew as SirGilbert Carstairs to be was enough to shake every nerve in my body; butto think that she had been in his power for twenty-four hours, alone,defenceless, brought on me a faintness that was almost beyond sustaining.I felt physically and mentally ill--weak. And yet, God knows! there neverwas so much as a thought of defeat in me. What I felt was that I must getthere, and make some effort that would bring the suspense to an end forboth of us. I was beginning to see how things might be--passing throughthose grounds she might have chanced on something, or somebody, or SirGilbert himself, who, naturally, would not let anybody escape him thatcould tell anything of his whereabouts. But if he was at Hathercleugh,what of the tale which Hollins had told us the night before?--nay, thatvery morning, for it was after midnight when he sat there in Mr.Lindsey's parlour. And, suddenly, another idea flashed across me--Wasthat tale true, or was the man telling us a pack of lies, all for someend? Against that last notion there was, of course, the torn scrap ofletter to be set; but--but supposing that was all part of a plot, meantto deceive us while these villains--taking Hollins to be in at the otherman's game--got clear away in some totally different direction? If itwas, then it had been successful, for we had taken the bait, and allattention was being directed on Glasgow, and none elsewhere, and--as faras I knew--certainly none at Hathercleugh itself, whither nobody expectedSir Gilbert to come back.

  But these were all speculations--the main thing was to get toHathercleugh, acting on the hint I had just got from Scott, and to takea look round the old part of the big house, as far as I could. There wasno difficulty about getting there--although I had small acquaintance withthe house and grounds, never having been in them till the night of myvisit to Sir Gilbert Carstairs. I knew the surroundings well enough toknow how to get in amongst the shrubberies and coppices--I could have gotin there unobserved in the daytime, and it was now black night. I hadtaken care to extinguish my lamp as soon as I got clear of the BorderBridge, and now, riding along in the darkness, I was secure from theobservation of any possible enemy. And before I got to the actualboundaries of Hathercleugh, I was off the bicycle, and had hidden it inthe undergrowth at the roadside; and instead of going into the grounds bythe right-of-way which I was convinced Maisie must have taken, I climbeda fence and went forward through a spinny of young pine in the directionof the house. Presently I had a fine bit of chance guidance to it--as Iparted the last of the feathery branches through which I had quietly mademy way, and came out on the edge of the open park, a vivid flash oflightning showed me the great building standing on its plateau rightbefore me, a quarter of a mile off, its turrets and gables vividlyilluminated in the glare. And when that glare passed, as quickly as ithad come, and the heavy blackness fell again, there was a gleam of light,coming from some window or other, and I made for that, going swiftly andsilently over the intervening space, not without a fear that if anybodyshould chance to be on the watch another lightning flash might reveal myadvancing figure.

  But there had been no more lightning by the time I reached the plateau onwhich Hathercleugh was built; then, however, came a flash that was moreblinding than the last, followed by an immediate crash of thunder rightoverhead. In that flash I saw that I was now close to the exact spot Iwanted--the ancient part of the house. I saw, too, that between where Istood and the actual walls there was no cover of shrubbery or coppice orspinny--there was nothing but a closely cropped lawn to cross. And in thedarkness I crossed it, there and then, hastening forward withoutstretched hands which presently came against the masonry. In the samemoment came the rain in torrents. In the same moment, too, came somethingelse that damped my spirits more than any rains, however fierce andheavy, could damp my skin--the sense of my own utter helplessness. ThereI was--having acted on impulse--at the foot of a mass of grey stone whichhad once been impregnable, and was still formidable! I neither knew howto get in, nor how to look in, if that had been possible; and I now sawthat in coming at all I ought to have come accompanied by a squad ofpolice with authority to search the whole place, from end to end and topto bottom. And I reflected, with a grim sense of the irony of it, that todo that would have been a fine long job for a dozen men--what, then, wasit that I had undertaken single-handed?

  It was at this moment, as I clung against the
wall, sheltering myself aswell as I could from the pouring rain, that I heard through its steadybeating an equally steady throb as of some sort of machine. It was a verysubdued, scarcely apparent sound, but it was there--it was unmistakable.And suddenly--though in those days we were only just becoming familiarwith them--I knew what it was--the engine of some sort of automobile; butnot in action; the sound came from the boilers or condensers, or whateverthe things were called which they used in the steam-driven cars. And itwas near by--near at my right hand, farther along the line of the wallbeneath which I was cowering. There was something to set all my curiosityaflame!--what should an automobile be doing there, at that hour--for itwas now nearing well on to midnight--and in such close proximity to ahalf-ruinous place like that? And now, caring no more for the rain thanif it had been a springtide shower, I slowly began to creep along thewall in the direction of the sound.

  And here you will understand the situation of things better, if I saythat the habitable part of Hathercleugh was a long way from the old partto which I had come. The entire mass of building, old and new, was ofvast extent, and the old was separated from the new by a broken andutterly ruinous wing, long since covered over with ivy. As for the olditself, there was a great square tower at one corner of it, with wallsextending from its two angles; it was along one of these walls that I wasnow creeping. And presently--the sound of the gentle throbbing growingslightly louder as I made my way along--I came to the tower, and to thedeep-set gateway in it, and I knew at once that in that gateway there wasan automobile drawn up, all ready for being driven out and away.

  Feeling quietly for the corner of the gateway, I looked round,cautiously, lest a headlight on the car should betray my presence. Butthere was no headlight, and there was no sound beyond the steady throb ofthe steam and the ceaseless pouring of the rain behind me. And then, as Ilooked, came a third flash of lightning, and the entire scene was lightedup for me--the deep-set gateway with its groined and arched roof, thegrim walls at each side, the dark massive masonry beyond it, and there,within the shelter, a small, brand-new car, evidently of fine andpowerful make, which even my inexperienced eyes knew to be ready fordeparture from that place at any moment. And I saw something more duringthat flash--a half-open door in the wall to the left of the car, and thefirst steps of a winding stair.

  As the darkness fell again, blacker than ever, and the thunder crashedout above the old tower, I stole along the wall to that door, intendingto listen if aught were stirring within, or on the stairs, or in therooms above. And I had just got my fingers on the rounded pillar of thedoorway, and the thunder was just dying to a grumble, when a hand seizedthe back of my neck as in a vice, and something hard, and round, and coldpressed itself insistingly into my right temple. It was all done in thehalf of a second; but I knew, just as clearly as if I could see it, thata man of no ordinary strength had gripped me by the neck with one hand,and was holding a revolver to my head with the other.