CHAPTER III. A COINCIDENCE
Another voice answered from near by and Dunn scrambled hurriedly to hisfeet.
He had but a moment in which to decide what to do, for these newarrivals were coming at a run and would be upon him almost instantly ifhe stayed where he was.
That they were friends of the man he had just overthrown and whose hugebulk lay motionless in the darkness at his feet, seemed plain, and italso seemed plain to him that the moment was not an opportune one foroffering explanations.
Swiftly he decided to slip away into the darkness. What had happenedmight be cleared up later when he knew more and was more sure of hisground; at present he must think first, he told himself, of the successof his mission.
Physically, he was greatly exhausted and his gait was not so steady norhis progress so silent and skillful as it had been before, as now hehurried away from the scene of the combat.
But the two new-comers made no attempt to pursue him and indeed did notseem to give his possible presence in the vicinity even a thought, aswith many muttered exclamations of dismay and anger, they stooped overthe body of his prostrate enemy.
It was evident they recognized him at once, and that he was the "Mr.John" whose name they had called, for so they spoke of him to each otheras they busied themselves about him.
"I expect I've been a fool again," Dunn thought to himself ruefully, asfrom a little distance, well-sheltered in the darkness, he crouched uponthe ground and listened and watched. "I may have ruined everything. Anyone but a fool would have asked him what he meant when he hit out likethat instead of flying into a rage and hitting back the way I did. Mostlikely it was some mistake when he said he knew who I was and what Iwanted--at least if it wasn't--I hope I haven't killed him, anyhow."
Secure in the protection the dark night afforded him, he remainedsufficiently near at hand to be able to assure himself soon that hisoverthrown adversary was certainly not killed, for now he began toexpress himself somewhat emphatically concerning the manner in which thetwo new-comers were ministering to him.
Presently he got to his feet and, with one of them supporting him oneach side, began to limp away, and Dunn followed them, though cautiouslyand at a distance, for he was still greatly exhausted and in neither themood nor the condition for running unnecessary risks.
The big man, Mr. John, as the others called him, seemed little inclinedfor speech, but the others talked a good deal, subsiding sometimes whenhe told them gruffly to be quiet but invariably soon beginning againtheir expressions of sympathy and vows of vengeance against his unknownassailant.
"How many of them do you think there were, Mr. John, sir?" one askedpresently. "I'll lay you marked a fair sight of the villains."
"There was only one man," Mr. John answered briefly.
"Only one?" the other repeated in great surprise. "For the Lord's sake,Mr. John--only one? Why, there ain't any one man between here and Lunnontown could stand up to you, sir, in a fair tussle."
"Well, he did," Mr. John answered. "He had the advantage, he took me bysurprise, but I never felt such a grip in my life."
"Lor', now, think of that," said the other in tones in which surpriseseemed mingled with a certain incredulity. "It don't seem possible, butfor sure, then, he don't come from these here parts, that I'll standto."
"I knew that much before," retorted Mr. John. "I said all the timethey were outsiders, a London gang very likely. You'll have to get Dr.Rawson, Bates. I don't know what's up, but I've a beast of a pain in myside. I can hardly breathe."
Bates murmured respectful sympathy as they came out of the shelterof the trees, and crossing some open ground, reached a road along thefurther side of which ran a high brick wall.
In this, nearly opposite the spot where they emerged on the road, was asmall door which one of the men opened and through which they passed andlocked it behind them, leaving Dunn without.
He hesitated for a moment, half-minded to scale the wall and continue onthe other side of it to follow them.
Calculating the direction in which the village of Ramsdon must lie, heturned that way and had gone only a short distance when he was overtakenby a pedestrian with whom he began conversation by asking for a lightfor his pipe.
The man seemed inclined to be conversational, and after a few casualremarks, Dunn made an observation on the length of the wall they werepassing and to the end of which they had just come.
"Must be a goodish-sized place in there," he said. "Whose is it?"
"Oh, that there's Ramsdon Place," the other answered. "Mr. John Clivelives there now his father's dead."
Dunn stood still in the middle of the road.
"Who? What?" he stammered. "Who--who did you say?"
"Mr. John Clive," the other repeated. "Why--what's wrong about that?"
"Nothing, nothing," Dunn answered, but his voice shook a little withwhat seemed almost fear, and behind the darkness of the friendly nighthis face had become very pale. "Clive--John Clive, you say? Oh, that'simpossible."
"Needn't believe it if you don't want to," grumbled the other. "Onlywhat do you want asking questions for if you thinks folks tells lieswhen they answers them?"
"I didn't mean that, of course not," exclaimed Dunn hurriedly, by nomeans anxious to offend the other. "I'm very sorry, I only meant it wasimpossible it should be the same Mr. John Clive I knew once, though Ithink he came from about here somewhere. A little, middle-aged man, Imean, quite bald and wears glasses?"
"Oh, that ain't this 'un," answered the other, his good humour quiterestored. "This is a young man and tremendous big. I ain't so smallmyself, but he tops me by a head and shoulders and so he does mosthereabouts. Strong, too, with it, there ain't so many would care tostand up against him, I can tell you. Why, they do say he caught twopoachers in the wood there last month and brought 'em out one under eacharm like a pair of squealing babes."
"Did he, though?" said Dunn. "Take some doing, that, and I daresay therest of the gang will try to get even with him for it."
"Well, they do say as there's been threats," the other agreed. "But whatI says is as Mr. John can look after hisself all right. There was a taleas a man had been dodging after him at night, but all he said when theytold him, was as if he caught any one after him he would thrash themwithin an inch of their lives."
"Serve them right, too," exclaimed Dunn warmly.
Evidently this explained, in part at least, what had recently happened.Mr. Clive, finding himself being followed, had supposed it was one ofhis poaching enemies and had at once attempted to carry out his threathe had made.
Dunn told himself, at any rate, the error would have the result ofturning all suspicion away from him, and yet he still seemed verydisturbed and ill at ease.
"Has Mr. Clive been here long?" he asked.
"It must be four or five years since his father bought the place,"answered his new acquaintance. "Then, when the old man was killed a yearago, Mr. John inherited everything."
"Old Mr. Clive was killed, was he?" asked Dunn, and his voice soundedvery strange in the darkness. "How was that?"
"Accident to his motor-car," the other replied. "I don't hold with themthings myself--give me a good horse, I say. People didn't like the oldman much, and some say Mr. John's too fond of taking the high hand. Butdon't cross him and he won't cross you, that's his motto and there'sworse."
Dunn agreed and asked one or two more questions about the details of theaccident to old Mr. Clive, in which he seemed very interested.
But he did not get much more information about that concerning which hisnew friend evidently knew very little. However, he gave Dunn a few morefacts concerning Mr. John Clive, as that he was unmarried, was said tobe very wealthy, and had the reputation of being something of a ladies'man.
A little further on they parted, and Dunn took a side road which hecalculated should lead him back to Bittermeads.
"It may be pure coincidence," he mused as he walked slowly in a verytroubled and doubtful mood. "But if so, it's a
very queer one, and ifit isn't, it seems to me Mr. John Clive might as well put his head ina lion's jaws as pay visits at Bittermeads. But of course he can't havethe least suspicion of the truth--if it is the truth. If I hadn't lostmy temper like a fool when he whacked out at me like that I might havebeen able to warn him, or find out something useful perhaps. And hisfather killed recently in an accident--is that a coincidence, too, Iwonder?"
He passed his hand across his forehead on which a light sweat stood,though he was not a man easily affected, for he had seen and enduredmany things.
His mind was very full of strange and troubled thoughts as at last hecame back to Bittermeads, where, leaning with his elbows on the gardengate, he stood for a long time, watching the dark and silent house andthinking of that scene of which he had been a spectator when John Cliveand the girl had stood together on the veranda in the light of the gasfrom the hall and had bidden each other good night.
"It seems," he mused, "as though the last that was seen of poor Charleymust have been just like that. It was just such a dark night as thiswhen Simpson saw him. He was standing on that veranda when Simpsonrecognized him by the light of the gas behind, and a girl was biddinghim good night--a very pretty girl, too, Simpson said."
Silent and immobile he stood there a long time, not so much now as onewho watched, but rather as if deep in thought, for his head was bent andsupported on his hands and his eyes were fixed on the ground.
"As for this John Clive," he muttered presently, rousing himself. "Isuppose that must be a coincidence, but it's queer, and queer the fathershould have died--like that."
He broke off, shuddering slightly, as though at thoughts too awful to beendured, and pushing open the gate, he walked slowly up the gravel pathtowards the house, round which he began to walk, going very slowlyand cautiously and often pausing as if he wished to make as closeexamination of the place as the darkness would permit.
More by habit than because he thought there was any need of it, he movedalways with that extreme and wonderful dexterity of quietness he couldassume at will, and as he turned the corner of the building and camebehind it, his quick ear, trained by many an emergency to pick out theleast unusual sound, caught a faint, continued scratching noise, sofaint and low it might well have passed unnoticed.
All at once he understood and realized that some one quite close athand was stealthily cutting out the glass from one of the panes of aground-floor window.