CHAPTER TEN
CONTAINS A FURTHER SURPRISE
It was nearly one o'clock, and the sun was high, as I walked beneaththe dingy brick walls which separate each short garden from thepavement. In some gardens were stunted trees, blackened by the Londonsmoke, while the houses were mostly large and comfortable, for it isstill considered a "genteel," if somewhat decayed neighbourhood.
Before that house of horror I paused for a moment. The dingy blinds ofyellow holland were drawn at each of the soot-grimed windows,blackened by age and dirt. The garden was weedy and neglected, for thegrass grew high on the patch of lawn, and the dead leaves of thetulips and daffodils of spring had not been removed.
The whole place presented a sadly neglected, sorry appearance--a stateof uncared-for disorder which, in the darkness of night, I had, ofcourse, not noticed.
As I looked within the garden I saw lying behind the wall an oldweather-beaten notice-board which bore the words "To be let,Furnished," and giving the name of a well-known firm of estate agentsin Pall Mall.
The house next door was smart and well kept, therefore I resolved tomake inquiry there.
Of the tall, thin, old man-servant who answered my ring, I inquiredthe name of the occupant of Althorp House.
"Well, sir," he replied, "there hasn't been an occupant since I'vebeen in service here, and that's ten years last March. An old ladylived there, I've heard--a rather eccentric old lady. They've tried tolet it furnished, but nobody has taken it. It is said that the oldlady left instructions in her will that the furniture was to be leftjust as it was for twenty years after her death. I expect the placemust be fine and dirty! An old woman goes there once every six weeksor so, I believe, just to open the doors and let in a little air. Butit's never cleaned."
"And nobody has been over it with a view to renting it?"
"Not to my knowledge, sir."
"There's never been anybody going in or out--eh?"
"Well, I've never seen them, sir," was the man's reply.
"But there have been people coming and going, have there not?"
The man hesitated for a moment, apparently slightly puzzled at myquestion.
"Well, sir, to tell the truth, there's been a very funny story aboutlately. It is said that some of the old woman's relatives havereturned, and they've been seen going in and out--but always in themiddle of the night."
"What sort of people?" I asked quickly.
"Oh! two men and a woman--so they say. But of course I've never seenanybody. I've asked the constables on night duty, and they've neverseen any one, or they would, no doubt, have reported it."
"Then who has seen them?"
"I really don't know. I heard the gossip over in the Royal Oak. How itoriginated, or whether it had any foundation in fact, I can't findout."
"I see the board has fallen down."
"Yes, that's been down for a couple of months or more--blown down bythe wind, I suppose."
"You haven't heard cabs stopping outside at night, for instance?"
"No, sir. I sleep at the back, and should therefore not hear."
I could see that he was a little uncertain as to the reason of myinquiries, therefore I made an excuse that having been struck by theappearance of the house so long neglected my curiosity had beenaroused.
"You've never heard of cabs stopping there at night?" I asked, a fewmoments later.
"Well, this morning the cook, who sleeps upstairs in front, funnilyenough, told me a curious story of how in the night a taxi stopped anda gentleman got out and entered the house. A few minutes lateranother man came forth from the house, paid the taxi-driver, and hemoved off. But," laughed the man-servant, "I fancy cook had beendreaming. I'm going to ask the constable when he comes on dutyto-night if he saw any strangers here."
I smiled. The man whom the cook saw had evidently been myself.
Then, after a further chat, I pressed half-a-crown into his ready palmand left.
My next visit was to the estate agents in Pall Mall, where, presentingmyself as a possible tenant, the clerk at whose table I had taken aseat said--
"Well, sir, Althorp House is in such a bad, neglected state that we donot now-a-days send clients to view it. Old Mrs. Carpenter died somethirteen years ago, and according to her will the place had to be leftundisturbed, and let furnished. The solicitors placed it in our hands,but the property until the twenty years have elapsed, is quiteuntenantable. The whole place has now gone to rack and ruin. We have anumber of other furnished houses which I will be most delighted togive you orders to view."
In pretence that I wanted a house I allowed him to select three forme, and while doing so learnt some further particulars regarding thedark house in Porchester Terrace. As far as he knew, the story of Mrs.Carpenter's relatives taking secret possession was a myth.
The caretaker had been withdrawn two years ago, and the place simplylocked up and left. If burglars broke in, there was nothing of valuefor them to take, he added.
Thus the result of my inquiries went to confirm my suspicion that theingenious pair of malefactors had taken possession of the placetemporarily, in order to pursue their nefarious plans.
There was a garden at the rear. Might it not also be the grave whereinthe bodies of their innocent victims were interred?
That afternoon, at four, I met Jack Marlowe in White's, and as we satin our big arm-chairs gazing through the windows out into the sunshineof St. James's Street, I asked him whether he would be prepared toaccompany me upon an adventurous visit to a house in Bayswater.
The long-legged, clean-shaven, clean-limbed fellow with the fairishhair and merry grey eyes looked askance for a moment, and theninquired--
"What's up, old man? What's the game?" He was always eager for anadventure, I knew.
"Well, the fact is I want to look around a house in PorchesterTerrace, that's all. I want to search the garden when nobody's about."
"Why?"
"In order to satisfy myself about something."
"Become an amateur detective--eh, Owen?"
"Well, my curiosity has certainly been aroused, and I intend to go tothe house late to-night and look round the garden. Will you come?"
He was one of the best of good fellows, overflowing with good humourand good nature. His face seemed to wear a perpetual smile ofcontentment.
"Of course. But tell me more," he asked.
"I will--afterwards," I said. "Let's dine together somewhere, and turnin at the Empire afterwards. We don't want to get to Bayswater beforemidnight, as we mustn't be seen. Don't dress. I'll bring an electrictorch."
"I've got one. I'll bring mine also," he replied, at once enteringinto the spirit of the adventure. "Only you might tell me what's inthe wind, Owen," he added.
"I'll tell you afterwards, old chap," I promised.
And then we separated, agreeing to meet at eight at a well-knownrestaurant which we often patronized.
That night, when the curtain fell at the Empire, we both went forthand strolled along to St. James's Street to get a drink at the club.The later we went forth on our nocturnal inquiry, the better.
I recollected that look of terror and astonishment on Forbes'scountenance when his gaze had met mine outside the bank--a look whichshowed that he had believed me to be safely out of the way. He hadnever dreamed I was still alive! Hence it seemed to me certain thatthe pair of malefactors, having secured the money, would at once makethemselves scarce. How, I wondered, could they have known of JackMarlowe, unless they had watched us both in secret, as seemed mostlikely.
That they would not return again to that house of horror in Bayswaterseemed certain.
Towards one o'clock we took a taxi off the stand outside White's anddrove to Porchester Terrace, alighting some distance from ourdestination. We passed the constable strolling slowly in the oppositedirection, and when at last we gained the rusty iron gate we bothslipped inside, quietly and unobserved.
The street lamp in the vicinity lit up the front of the dingy house,therefore fear
ing observation from any of the servants next door, wemoved noiselessly in the shadow of the bushes along the side of thepremises, past a small conservatory, many panes of glass of which werebroken, and so into the darkness of the small back garden, whichseemed knee-deep in grass and weeds, and which, from its position,hemmed in by blank walls, could not be overlooked save from the houseitself.
All was silence. The scene was weird in the extreme. In the distancecould be heard the faint hum of the never-ceasing traffic of London.Above, showed the dark windows of that grim old place wherein I had sonearly lost my life.
"I want to examine this garden thoroughly," I whispered to Jack, andthen I switched on my torch and showed a light around. A tangle ofweeds and undergrowth was revealed--a tangle so great that topenetrate it without the use of a bill-hook appeared impossible.
Still we went forward, examining everywhere with our powerful electriclights.
"What will the people say?" laughed Jack. "They'll take us forburglars, old chap!"
"The place is empty," I replied. "Our only fear is of the police. Tothem we would be compelled to make an explanation--and that's justwhat I don't want to do."
For some time we carefully searched, conversing only in whispers. Myhands were scratched, and stung by nettles, and Jack had his coatbadly torn by thorns. The garden had been allowed to run wild for allthe years since old Mrs. Carpenter's death, and the two ash trees hadspread until their thick branches overshadowed a large portion of theground.
Beneath one of these trees I suddenly halted as an ejaculation escapedme. Near the trunk, and in such a position that it would not be seeneven from the windows of the house, yawned a hole, and at its side amound of newly-dug earth.
"Ah!" I cried. "This is what I've been in search of!" The discoveryrevealed a ghastly truth. I shuddered at the sight of it.
"What, that hole?" asked Jack, in a low voice as we approached andpeered into it. I judged it to be about three feet or so in depth."What a funny thing to search for!"
"That hole, Jack, was intended for a man's grave!" I whisperedhoarsely, "and the man intended was _myself_!"
"You!" he gasped. "What do you mean, Owen?"
"I mean that that grave yonder was dug in order to conceal my deadbody," was my low, meaning answer. "And I fear--fear very much--thatthe remains of others who have met with foul play have been concealedhere!"
"You mean that murder was actually intended!" he exclaimed inastonishment. "When?"
"Last night. I was entrapped here and narrowly escaped."
"How? Tell me all about it," he urged.
"Later on. Not here," I said. "Let us see if there is any furtherevidence of recent digging," and together we examined the groundbeneath the second tree.
Presently Jack in the course of searching about, came to a spot wherethe ground seemed perceptibly softer. My stick sank in, while in otherparts the ground seemed hard. Beneath the trees the weeds and grassgrew thinly, and I presumed that the miscreants could work there underthe canopy of leaves without fear of observation.
I bent down and carefully examined the surface, which, for about fourfeet square, bore plain traces of having recently been moved.
Something had evidently been interred there. Yet tiny fresh blades ofgreen were just springing up, as though grass-seed had been sprinkledover in order to obliterate traces of the recent excavation.
"What do you think of it?" I inquired of my companion.
"Well, perhaps somebody has really been buried here--eh?" he said."Don't you think you ought to go and tell the police at once?"
I was silent, in bewilderment.
"My own opinion is, Owen, that if a serious attempt has been made uponyou, and you really suspect that that hole yonder was prepared toreceive you, then it is your duty to tell the police. Others may fallinto the trap," Jack added.
"Not here," I said. "The assassins will not return, never fear. Theyknow of their failure in my case, and by this time they are, in allprobability, out of the country."
"But surely we ought to examine this spot and ascertain whether theremains of any one is concealed here!" exclaimed my old friend.
Yet I still hesitated, hesitated because I feared that any exposuremust implicate that sweet little girl who, though my friend, had soingeniously escaped me.
At the same moment, however, our ears both caught a slight movementamong the tangled shrubs under the wall at the extreme end of thegarden. Instantly we shut off our lamps, and stood motionless,listening.
At first I believed it to be only the scrambling of a cat. But nextsecond Jack nudged my arm, and straining my eyes I saw a dark figuremoving stealthily along, half crouching so as to be less conspicuous,but moving slowly towards that side of the house which was the onlyexit.
Fearing discovery there, our examination being so thorough, theintruder was slowly creeping off, endeavouring to escape observation.
For an instant I remained motionless, watching the dark, crouchingfigure. Then, drawing my revolver, I made a dash straight in itsdirection.