CHAPTER XVI. IN THE WOOD
There had been an air of haste, almost of furtiveness, about this swiftappearance and more swift vanishing of Ella, that made Dunn ask himselfuneasily what errand she could have been on.
He hesitated for a moment, half expecting to see her return again,or that there would be some other development, but he heard and sawnothing.
He caught no further glimpse of Ella, whom the green depths of thespinney hid well; and he heard no more shots.
After a little, he left the spot where he had been waiting and wentacross to where he had seen her.
The exact spot where she had entered the spinney was marked, for shehad broken the branch of a young tree in brushing quickly by it, and abramble she had trodden on had not yet lifted itself from the earth towhich she had pressed it.
By other signs like these, plain enough and easy to read--for she hadhurried on in great haste and without care, almost, indeed, as one whofled from some great danger or from some dreadful sight, and who had nothought to spare save for flight alone--he followed the way she had gonetill it took him to a beaten public path that almost at once led over astile to the high road which passed in front of Bittermeads. Along thisbeaten path, trodden by many, Ella's light foot had left no perceptiblemark, and Dunn made no attempt to track her further, since it seemedcertain that she had been simply hurrying back home.
"She was badly frightened over something or another," he said tohimself. "She never stopped once, she went as straight and quick as shecould. I wonder what upset her like that?"
He went back the way he had come, and at the spot where he had seen herenter the spinney he set to work to pick up her trail in the directionwhence she had appeared, for he thought that if he followed it he mightfind out what had been the cause of her evident alarm.
The ground was much more open here, and the trail correspondingly moredifficult to follow, for often there was little but a trodden blade ofgrass to show where she had passed; and sometimes, where the ground wasbare and hard, there was no visible sign left at all.
Once or twice at such places he was totally at fault, but by castinground in a wide circle like a dog scenting his prey he was able to pickup her tracks again.
They seemed to lead right into the depths of the wood, through lonelyspots that only the keepers knew, and where others seldom came.
But that he was on the right trail he presently had proof, for onthe bank of a lovely and hidden dell he picked up a tiny embroideredhandkerchief with the initials "E. C." worked in one corner.
It had evidently been lying there only a very short time, for it wasperfectly clean and fresh, and he picked it up and held it for a momentin his hands, smiling to himself with pleasure at its daintiness andsmallness, and yet still uneasily wondering why she had come here, andwhy she had fled away again so quickly.
The morning was very fine and calm, though in the west heavy clouds weregathering and seemed to promise rain soon. But overhead the sun shonebrightly, the air was calm and warm, and the little dell on whose vergehe stood a very pretty and pleasant place.
A small stream wandered through it, the grass that carpeted it wasgreen and soft, near by a great oak stood alone and spread its majesticbranches far out on every side to give cool shelter from the summerheat.
The thought occurred to Dunn that this was just such a pretty andsecluded spot as two lovers might choose to exchange their vows in, andthe thought stung him intolerably as he wondered whether it was for sucha reason that Ella had come here.
But if so, why had she fled away again in such strange haste?
He walked on slowly for a yard or two, not now attempting to followElla's trail, for he had the impression that this was her destination,and that she had gone no further than here.
All at once he caught sight of the form of a man lying hidden inthe long grass that nearly covered him from view just where thefar-spreading branches of the great oak ceased to give their shade.
At first Dunn thought he was sleeping, and he was just about to callout to him when something in the rigidity of the man's position and hisutter stillness struck him unpleasantly.
He went quickly to the man's side, and the face of dead John Clive,supine and still, stared up at him from unseeing eyes.
He had been killed by a charge of small shot fired at such closequarters that his breast was shot nearly in two and his clothing andflesh charred by the burning powder.
But Dunn, standing staring down at the dead man, saw not him, but Ella.Ella fleeing away silently and furtively through the trees as from somesight or scene of guilt and terror.
He stooped closer over the dead man. Death had been instantaneous. Ofcourse there could be no doubt. From one hand a piece of folded paperhad fallen.
Dunn picked it up, and saw that there was writing on it, and he read itover slowly.
"Dear Mr. Clive,--Can you meet me as before by the oak tomorrow at eleven? There is something I very much want to say to you.--Yours sincerely, "ELLA CAYLEY."
Was that, then, the lure which had brought John Clive to meet hisdeath? Was this the bait that had made him disregard the warnings he hadreceived, and come alone to so quiet and solitary a spot?
Dunn had a moment of quick envy of him; he lay so quiet and still inthe warm sunshine, with nothing to trouble or distress him any more forever.
Then, stumblingly and heavily, Dunn turned an went away, and his eyeswere very hard, his bearded face set like iron.
Like a man in a dream, or one obsessed by some purpose before which allother things faded into nothingness, he went his way, the way Ella hadtaken in her flight--through the wood, through the spinney to the publicfoot-path, and then out on the road that led to Bittermeads.
When he entered the garden there, he saw Ella sitting quietly on adeck-chair close to her mother, quietly busy with some fancy work.
He could not believe it; he stood watching in bewilderment, appalled andwondering, watching her white hands flashing busily to and fro, hearingthe soft murmur of her voice as now and then she addressed some remarkto her mother, who nodded drowsily in the sunshine over a book open onher knees.
Ella was dressed all in white; she had flung aside her hat, and thequiet breeze played in her fair hair, and stirred gently a stray curlthat had escaped across her broad low brow.
The picture was one of gentleness and peace and an innocence thatthought no wrong, and yet with his own eyes he had seen her not an hourago fleeing with hurried steps and fearful looks from the spot where laya murdered man.
Somewhat unsteadily, for he felt so little master of himself, it wasas though he had no longer even control of his own limbs, Dunn stumbledforward, and Ella looked up and saw him, and saw also that he waslooking at her very strangely.
She rose and came towards him, her needlework still in her hands.
"What is the matter?" she said in a voice of some concern. "Are youill?"
"No," he answered. "No. I've been looking for Mr. Clive."
"Have you?" she said, a little surprised apparently, but in no wayflustered or disturbed. "Did you find him?"
Dunn did not answer, for indeed he could not, and she said again:
"Did you find him?"
Still he made no answer, for it seemed to him those four words werethe most awful that any one had ever uttered since the beginning of theworld.
"What is the matter?" she said again. "Is anything the matter?"
"Oh, no, no," he said, and he gave himself a little shake like a manwakening from deep sleep and trying to remember where he was.
"Well, then," she said.
"I found Mr. Clive," he said hardly and abruptly. And he repeated again:"Yes, I found him."
They remained standing close together and facing each other, and he sawher as through a veil of red, and it was as though a red mist envelopedher, and where her shadow lay the earth was red, he thought, and whereshe put her foot it seemed to him red tracks remained, and ne
ver beforehad he understood how utterly he loved her and must love her, now andfor evermore.
But he uttered no sound and made no movement, only stood very still,thinking to himself how dreadful it was that he loved her so greatly.
She was not paying him, any attention now. A rose bush was near by, andshe picked one of the flowers, and arranged it carefully at her waist.
She said, still looking at him:
"Do you know--I wish you would shave yourself?"
"Why?" he mumbled.
"I should like to see you," she answered. "I think I have a curiosity tosee you."
"I should think you could do that well enough," he said in the same low,mumbled tones.
"No," she answered. "I can only see some very untidy hair and a pair ofeyes--not very nice eyes, rather frightening eyes. I should like to seethe rest of your face some day so as to know what it's like."
"Perhaps you shall--some day," he said.
"Is that a threat?" she asked. "It sounded like one."
"Perhaps," he answered.
She laughed lightly and turned away.
"You make me very curious," she said. "But then, you've always donethat."
She went back to her seat by her mother, and he walked on moodily to thehouse.
Mrs. Dawson said to Ella:
"How can you talk to that man, my dear? I think he looks perfectlydreadful--hardly like a human being."
"I was just telling him he ought to shave himself," said Ella. "I toldhim I should like to know what he was really like."
"I shall ask father," said Mrs. Dawson sternly, "to make it a conditionof his employment here."