CHAPTER XXVIII. BACK AT BITTERMEADS
When, riding fast, Rupert Dunsmore came in sight of Bittermeads heexperienced a feeling of extreme relief. Though what he had feared hedid not quite know, for he did not see that any alarm could have reachedhere yet or any hint come to Deede Dawson of the failure of all hisplotting.
Even if Walter had had the idea of returning to give his accomplicewarning, he could not have come by the road on his bicycle as quicklyas Rupert had ridden across country. And that Walter would spend eithertime or thought on Deede Dawson did not appear in any way probable.
To Rupert, therefore, it seemed certain that Deede Dawson could knownothing as yet. But all the same it was an immense relief to see thehouse again and to know that in a few moments he would be there.
He tied up the mare to a convenient tree, and with eyes that were quickand alert and every nerve and muscle ready for all emergencies, he drewnear the house.
All was still and quiet, no smoke came from the chimneys, there was nosign of life or movement anywhere. For a moment he hesitated and thenmade his way round to the back, hoping to find Mrs. Barker there andperhaps obtain from her information as to the whereabouts of DeedeDawson and of Ella and her mother.
For it seemed to him it would be his best plan to get the two womenquietly out of the way if he could possibly do so before making anyattempt to deal with Deede Dawson or letting him know of his return.
For the mere fact that he was back again so soon would show at once thatsomething had gone seriously wrong, and once Deede Dawson knew that, hewould be, Rupert well realized, in a very desperate and reckless moodand ripe for committing any mischief that he could.
Cautiously Rupert opened the back door and found himself in thestone-paved passage that ran between the kitchen and the scullery andpantry. Everything seemed very quiet and still, and there was no sign ofMrs. Barker nor any appearance that she had been that morning busy abouther usual tasks. The kitchen fire was not lighted, a pile of unwashedcrockery stood on the table, there had apparently been no attempt toprepare any meals.
Frowning uneasily, for all this did not seem to him of good omen, Rupertwent quickly on to the living rooms.
They were unoccupied and did not seem to have been much used that day;and in the small breakfast-room Deede Dawson had been accustomedto consider his special apartment, his favourite little travellingchessboard stood on the table with pieces in position on it.
There was a letter, too, he had begun but not finished, to the editorof a chess-column in some paper, apparently to the effect that a certainproblem "cooked," and that by such and such a move "the mate for thefirst player that appeared certain was unexpectedly and instantlytransferred in this dramatic manner into a mate for his opponent."
The words seemed somehow oddly appropriate to Rupert, and he smiledgrimly as he read them and then all at once his expression changed andhis whole attitude became one of intense watchfulness and readiness.
For his quick eye had noted that the ink on the nib of the pen that thisletter had been written with, was not yet dry.
Then Deede Dawson must have been here a moment or two ago and must havegone in a hurry. That could only mean he was aware of Rupert's returnand was warned and suspicious. It is perhaps characteristic of Rupert'spassionate and eager temperament that only now did it occur to himthat he was quite unarmed and that without a weapon of any kind he wasmatching himself against as reckless and as formidable a criminal as hadever lived.
For want of anything better he picked up the heavy glass inkpot standingon the table, emptied the contents in a puddle on the floor, and heldthe inkpot itself ready in his hand.
He listened intently, but heard no sound--no sound at all in the wholehouse, and this increased his apprehensions, for he knew well that DeedeDawson was a man always the most dangerous when most silent.
It was possible of course that he had fled, but not likely. He would notgo, Rupert thought, till he had made his preparations and not withouta last effort to take revenge on those who had defeated him and in thisdramatic way turned the mate he had expected to secure into a win forhis opponent.
Still Rupert listened intently, straining his ears to catch the leastsound to hint to him where his enemy was, for he knew that if he failedto discover him his first intimation of his proximity might well come inthe shape of the white-hot sting of a bullet, rending flesh and bone.
Then, too, where was Ella, and where was her mother?
There was something inexpressibly sinister in the utter quietness of thehouse, a quietness not at all of peace and rest but of a brooding, angrythreat.
Still he could hear nothing, and he left the room, very quickly andnoiselessly, and he made sure there was no one anywhere in any of theserooms on the ground floor.
He locked the front door and the back to make sure no one should enteror leave too easily, and returned on tiptoe, moving to and fro likea shadow cast by a changing light, so swift and noiseless were hismovements.
For a little he remained crouching against the side of the stairway,listening for any sound that might float down to him from above.
But none came--and on a sudden, in one movement, as it were, he ran upthe stairs and crouched down on the topmost one so that any bullet aimedat him as he appeared might perhaps fly overhead.
But none was fired; there was still no sound at all, no sign that thehouse held any living creature beside himself. He began to thinkthat Deede Dawson must have sent the two women away and now have gonehimself.
But there was the pen downstairs with ink still wet upon the nib toprove that he had been here recently, and again very suddenly Rupertleaped to his feet and ran noiselessly down the corridor and enteredquickly into Ella's room.
He had not been in it since the night of his arrival at Bittermeads, butit appeared to him extraordinarily familiar and every little object init of ornament or use seemed to speak to him softly of Ella's graciouspresence.
Of Ella herself there was no sign, but he noticed that the tassel at theend of the window blind cord was moving as if recently disturbed.
The movement was very slight, almost imperceptible, indeed, but itexisted; and it proved that some one must very shortly before have beenstanding at the window. He moved to it and looked out.
The view commanded the road by which he had approached Bittermeads, andhe wondered if Ella had been standing there and had seen his approach,and then had concealed herself for some reason.
But, if so, why and where was she hiding? And where was Deede Dawson?And why was everything so silent and so still?
He turned from the window, and as he did so he caught a faint sound inthe passage without.
Instantly he crouched behind the bed, the heavy glass inkpot that washis one weapon poised in his hand.
The sound did not come again, but as he waited, he saw the door begin toopen very slowly, very quietly.
Lower still he crouched, the inkpot ready to throw, every nerve taut andtense for the leap at his foe's throat with which he meant to follow itup. The door opened a little more, very slowly, very carefully. It waswide enough now to admit of entry, and through the opening there sidled,pale and red-eyed, Ella's mother, looking so frail and feeble and soruffled and disturbed she reminded Rupert irresistibly of a frightenedhen.
She edged her way in as though she dared not open the door too widely,and Rupert hesitated in great perplexity and vexation, for he saw thathe must show himself, and he feared that she would announce his presenceby flight or screams.
But he could not possibly get away without her knowledge; and besides,she might be able to give him useful information.
He stood up quickly, with his finger to his lips. "Hush!" he said. "Nota sound--not a sound." The warning seemed unnecessary, for Mrs. Dawsonappeared too paralysed with fear to utter even the faintest cry as shedropped tremblingly on the nearest chair.
"Hush! Hush!" he said. "Where is Ella?"
"I--I don't know," quavered Mrs. Dawson.
&
nbsp; "When did you see her last?"
"A little while ago," Mrs. Dawson faltered. "She went upstairs. Shedidn't come down, so I thought I would try to find her."
"Where's Deede Dawson?" Rupert asked.
"I--I don't know," she quavered again.
"When did you see him last?"
"I--I--a little while ago," she faltered. "He went upstairs--he didn'tcome down again. I thought I would try to find her--him--I was sofrightened when they didn't either of them come down again."
It was evident she was far too confused and upset to give any usefulinformation of any nature, even if she knew anything.
"Deede's been so strange," she said. "And Ella too. I think it'svery hard on me--dreams, too. He said he wanted her to help him get apacking-case ready he had to send away somewhere. I don't know where. Idon't think Ella wanted to--"
"A packing-case?" Rupert muttered. "What for?"
"It's what they came upstairs to do," Mrs. Dawson said. "And--and--"She began to cry feebly. "It's my nerves," she said. "He's looked sostrange at us all day--and neither of them has come down again."