CHAPTER XIV. LOVE-MAKING AT NIGHT
Dunn went to his room that night with the feeling that a crisis wasapproaching. And he wished very greatly that he knew how much Ella hadoverheard of his talk with her stepfather, and what interpretation shehad put upon it.
He determined that in the morning he would take the very firstopportunity he could find of speaking to her.
But in the morning it appeared that Mrs. Dawson had had a bad night, andwas very unwell, and Ella hardly stirred from her side all day.
Even when Clive called in the afternoon she would not come down, butsent instead a message begging to be excused because of her mother'sindisposition, and Dunn, from a secure spot in the garden, watched theyoung man retire, looking very disconsolate.
This day, too, Dunn saw nothing of Deede Dawson, for that gentlemanimmediately after breakfast disappeared without saying anything toanybody, and by night had still not returned.
Dunn therefore was left entirely to himself, and to him the day seemedone of the longest he had ever spent.
That Ella remained so persistently with her mother troubled him a gooddeal, for he did not think such close seclusion on her part could bereally necessary.
He was inclined to fear that Ella had overheard enough of what hadpassed between him and Deede Dawson to rouse her mistrust, and that shewas therefore deliberately keeping out of his way.
Then too, he was troubled in another fashion by Deede Dawson's absence,for he was afraid it might mean that plans were being prepared, orpossibly action being taken, that might mature disastrously before hehimself was ready to act.
All day this feeling of unrest and apprehension continued, and atnight when he went upstairs to bed it was stronger than ever. He feltconvinced now that Ella was deliberately avoiding him. But then, ifshe distrusted him, that must be because she feared he was on herstepfather's side, and if it seemed to her that who was on his side wasof necessity an object of suspicion to herself, then there could be nosuch bond of dread and guilt between them as any guilty knowledge on herpart of Wright's death would involve.
The substantial proof this exercise in logic appeared to afford ofElla's innocence brought him much comfort, but did not lighten his senseof apprehension and unrest, for he thought that in this situation inwhich he found himself his doubts of Ella had merely been turned intodoubts on Ella's part of himself, and that the one was just as likely asthe other to end disastrously.
"Though I don't know what I can do," he muttered as he stood in hisattic, "if I gain Deede Dawson's confidence I lose Ella's, and if I winElla's, Deede Dawson will at once suspect me."
He went over to the window and looked out, supporting himself on hiselbows, and gazing moodily into the darkness.
As he stood there a faint sound came softly to his ear through thestillness of the quiet night in which nothing stirred.
He listened, and heard it again. Beyond doubt some one was stirring inthe garden below, moving about there very cautiously and carefully,and at once Dunn glided from the room and down the stairs with all thatextraordinary lightness of tread and agility of movement of which hisheavy body and clumsy-looking build gave so small promise.
He had not been living so many days in the house without having takencertain precautions, of which one had been to secure for himself a swiftand silent egress whenever necessity might arise.
Keys to both the front and back doors were in his possession, and thepassage window on the ground floor he could at need lift bodily fromits frame, leaving ample room for passage either in or out. This wasthe method of departure he chose now since he did not know but that thedoors might be watched.
Lifting the window down, he swung himself outside, replacing behind himthe window so that it appeared to be as firmly in position as ever, butcould be removed again almost instantly should need arise.
Once outside he listened again, and though at first everything wasquiet, presently he heard again a cautious step going to and fro at alittle distance.
Crouching in the shadow of the house, he listened intently, and soon wasable to assure himself that there was but one footstep and that he wouldhave only one individual to deal with.
"It won't be Deede Dawson's," he thought to himself, "but it may verylikely be some one waiting for him to return. I must find out who--andwhy."
Slipping through the darkness of the night, with whose shadows he seemedto melt and mingle, as though he were but another one of them, he movedquickly in the direction of these cautious footsteps he had listened to.
They had ceased now, and the silence was profound, for those faintmultitudinous noises of the night that murmur without ceasing in thewoods and fields are less noticeable near the habitations of men.
A little puzzled, Dunn paused to listen again and once more creptforward a careful yard or two, and then lay still, feeling it would notbe safe to venture further till he was more sure of his direction, andtill some fresh sound to guide him reached his ears.
He had not long to wait, for very soon, from quite close by, he heardsomething that surprised and perplexed him equally--a deep, long-drawnsigh.
Again he heard it, and in utter wonder asked himself who this could bewho came into another person's garden late at night to stand and sigh,and what such a proceeding could mean.
Once more he heard the sigh, deeper even than before, and then after ita low murmur in which at first he could distinguish nothing, but thencaught the name of Ella being whispered over and over again.
He bent forward, more and more puzzled, trying in vain to make outsomething in the darkness, and then from under a tree, whose shadow hadhitherto been a complete concealment, there moved forward a form so talland bulky there could be little doubt whom it belonged to.
"John Clive--what on earth--!" Dunn muttered, his bewildermentincreasing, and the next moment he understood and had some difficulty inpreventing himself from bursting out laughing as there reached him theunmistakable sound of a kiss lightly blown through the air.
Clive was sending a kiss through the night towards Ella's room and hisnocturnal visit was nothing more than the whim of a love-sick youth.
With Dunn, his first amusement gave way almost at once to an extremeannoyance.
For, in the first place, these proceedings seemed to him exceedinglyimpertinent, for what possible right did Clive imagine he had to comeplaying the fool like this, sighing in the dark and blowing kisses likea baby to its mammy?
And secondly, unless he were greatly mistaken, John Clive might just assensibly and safely have dropped overboard from a ship in mid-Atlanticfor a swim as come to indulge his sentimentalities in the Bittermeadsgarden at night.
"You silly ass!" he said in a voice that was very low, but very distinctand very full of an extreme disgust and anger.
Clive fairly leaped in the air with his surprise, and turned and made asudden dash at the spot whence Dunn's voice had come, but where Dunn nolonger was.
"What the blazes--?" he began, spluttering in ineffectual rage."You--you--!"
"You silly ass!" Dunn repeated, no less emphatically than before.
Clive made another rush that a somewhat prickly bush very effectuallystopped.
"You--who are you--where--what--how dare you?" he gasped as he pickedhimself up and tried to disentangle himself from the prickles.
"Don't make such a row," said Dunn from a new direction. "Do you wantto raise the whole neighbourhood? Haven't you played the fool enough?If you want to commit suicide, why can't you cut your throat quietly anddecently at home, instead of coming alone to the garden at Bittermeadsat night?"
There was a note of sombre and intense conviction in his voice thatpenetrated even the excited mind of the raging Clive.
"What do you mean?" he asked, and then:
"Who are you?"
"Never mind who I am," answered Dunn. "And I mean just what I say. Youmight as well commit suicide out of hand as come fooling about herealone at night."
"You're crazy, you're talking rub
bish!" Clive exclaimed.
"I'm neither crazy nor talking rubbish," answered Dunn. "But if youpersist in making such a row I shall take myself off and leave you tosee the thing through by yourself and get yourself knocked on the headany way you like best."
"Oh, I'm beginning to understand," said Clive. "I suppose you're oneof my poaching friends--are you? Look here, if you know who it waswho attacked me the other night you can earn fifty pounds any time youlike."
"Your poaching friends, as you call them," answered Dunn, "are mostlikely only anxious to keep out of your way. This has nothing to do withthem."
"Well, come nearer and let me see you," Clive said. "You needn't beafraid. You can't expect me to take any notice of some one I can't see,talking rubbish in the dark."
"I don't much care whether you take any notice or not," answered Dunn."You can go your own silly way if you like, it's nothing to me. I'vewarned you, and if you care to listen I'll make my warning a littleclearer. And one thing I will tell you--one man already has left thishouse hidden in a packing-case with a bullet through his brain, and Iwill ask you a question: 'How did your father die?'"
"He was killed in a motor-car accident," answered Clive hesitatingly,as though not certain whether to continue this strange and puzzlingconversation or break it off.
"There are many accidents," said Dunn. "And that may have been one,for all I know, or it may not. Well, I've warned you. I had to do that.You'll probably go on acting like a fool and believing that nowadaysmurders don't happen, but if you're wise, you'll go home to bed and runno more silly risks."
"Of course I'm not going to pay the least attention," began Clive, whenDunn interrupted him sharply.
"Hush! hush!" he said sharply. "Crouch down: don't make a sound, don'tstir or move. Hush!"
For Dunn's sharp ear had caught the sound of approaching footsteps thatwere drawing quickly nearer, and almost instantly he guessed who itwould be, for there were few pedestrians who came along that lonely roadso late at night.
There were two of them apparently, and at the gate of Bittermeads theyhalted.
"Well, good night," said then a voice both Dunn and Clive knew at oncefor Deede Dawson's. "That was a pretty check by the knight I showed you,wasn't it?"
A thin, high, somewhat peculiar voice cursed Deede Dawson, chess, andthe pretty mate by the knight very comprehensively.
"It's young Clive that worries me," said the voice when it had finishedthese expressions of disapproval.
"No need," answered Deede Dawson's voice with that strange mirthlesslaugh of his. "No need at all; before the week's out he'll trouble noone any more."
When he heard this, Clive would have betrayed himself by some startledmovement or angry exclamation had not Dunn's heavy hand upon hisshoulder held him down with a grave and steady pressure there was nodisregarding.
Deede Dawson and his unknown companion went on towards the house, andadmitted themselves, and as the door closed behind them Clive swunground sharply in the darkness towards Dunn.
"What's it mean?" he muttered in the bewildered and slightly-patheticvoice of a child at once frightened and puzzled. "What for? Why shouldany one--?"
"It's a long story," began Dunn, and paused.
He saw that the unexpected confirmation of his warning Clive hadthus received from Deede Dawson's own lips had rendered his task ofconvincing Clive immensely more easy.
What he had wished to say had now at least a certainty of being listenedto, a probability of being believed, and there was at any rate, hesupposed, no longer the danger he had before dreaded of Clive's goingstraight with the whole story to Deede Dawson in arrogant disbelief of aword of it.
But he still distrusted Clive's discretion, and feared some rash andhasty action that might ruin all his plans, and allow Deede Dawson timeto escape.
Besides he felt that the immediate task before him was to find out whoDeede Dawson's new companion was, and, if possible, overhear anythingthey might have to say to each other.
That, and the discovery of the new-comer's identity, might prove to beof the utmost importance.
"I can't explain now," he said hurriedly. "I'll see you tomorrowsometime. Don't do anything till you hear from me. Your life may dependon it--and other people's lives that matter more."
"Tell me who you are first," Clive said quickly, incautiously raisinghis voice. "I can manage to take care of myself all right, I think, butI want to know who you are."
"H-ssh!" muttered Dunn. "Not so loud."
"There was a fellow made an attack on me one night a little while ago,"Clive went on unheedingly. "You remind me of him somehow. I don't thinkI trust you, my man. I think you had better come along to the policewith me."
But Dunn's sharp ears had caught the sound of the house door openingcautiously, and he guessed that Deede Dawson had taken the alarm andwas creeping out to see who invaded so late at night the privacy of hisgarden.
"Clear out quick! Quiet! If you want to go on living. I'll stop themfrom following if I can. If you make the least noise you're done for."
Most likely the man they had seen in his company would be with him, andboth of them would be armed. Neither Clive nor Dunn had a weapon, andDunn saw the danger of the position and took the only course available.
"Go," he whispered fiercely into Clive's ear.