Read The Bittermeads Mystery Page 5


  CHAPTER V. A WOMAN AND A MAN

  The girl stirred. It was as though some knowledge of the slow opening ofthe door had penetrated to her consciousness before as yet she actuallysaw or heard anything.

  She rose to her feet, drying her eyes with her handkerchief, and as shewas moving to a drawer near to get a clean one her glance fell on thepartially-open door.

  "I thought I shut it," she said aloud in a puzzled manner.

  She crossed the floor to the door and closed it with a push from herhand and in the passage outside Dunn stood still, not certain what to donext.

  But for that photograph he might have gone quietly away, giving up thereckless plan that had formed itself so suddenly in his mind while hewatched the burglar at work.

  That photograph, however, with its suggestion that he stood indeed onthe brink of the solution of the mystery, seemed a summons to him to goon. It was as though a voice from the dead called him to continue on histask to punish and to save, and slowly, very slowly, with an infinitecaution, he turned again the handle of the door and still very slowly,still with the same infinite caution, he pushed back the door the merestfraction of an inch at a time so that not even one watching could havesaid that it moved.

  When he had it once more so far open that he could see within, he bentforward to look. The girl was beginning her preparations for the nightnow. She had assumed a long, comfortable-looking dressing-gown and,standing in front of the mirror, she had just finished brushing her hairand was beginning to fasten it up in a long plait. He could see her facein the mirror; her deep, sad eyes, swollen with crying, her cheeks stilltear-stained, her mouth yet quivering with barely-repressed emotion.

  He was still watching her when, as if growing uneasy, she turned herhead and glanced over her shoulder, and though he moved back so quicklythat she did not catch sight of him, she saw that the door was open oncemore.

  "What can be the matter with the door?" she exclaimed aloud, andshe crossed the room towards it with a quick and somewhat impatientmovement.

  But this time, instead of closing it, she pulled it open and foundherself face to face with Dunn.

  He did not speak or move, and she stood staring at him blankly. Slowlyher mouth opened as though to utter a cry that, however, could not riseabove her fluttering throat. Her face had taken on the pallor of death,her great eyes showed the awful fear she felt.

  Still without speaking, Dunn stepped forward into the room and, closingthe door, stood with his back to it.

  She shrank away and put her hand upon a chair, but for the support ofwhich she must certainly have fallen, for her limbs were trembling soviolently they gave her little support.

  "Don't hurt me," she panted.

  In truth he presented a strange and terrifying appearance. The unkempthair that covered his face and through which his keen eyes glowed likefire, gave him an unusual and formidable aspect. In one hand he held theugly-looking jemmy he had taken from the burglar, and the new clotheshe had donned, ill-fitting and soiled, served to accentuate theungainliness of his form.

  The frightened girl was not even sure that he was human, and she shrankyet further away from him till she sank down upon the bed, dizzy withfear and almost swooning.

  As yet he had not spoken, for his eyes had gone to the mantlepiece onwhich he saw that the photograph signed with the name "Charley Wright,"did not now stand upright, but had fallen forward on its face so thatone could no longer see what it represented.

  It must have fallen just as he entered the room and this seemed to himan omen, though whether of good or ill, he did not know.

  "Who are you?" the girl stammered. "What do you want?"

  He looked at her moodily and still without answering, though in hisbright and keen eyes a strange light burned.

  She was lovely, he thought, of that there could be no question. But herbeauty made to him small appeal, for he was wondering what kind of soullay behind those perfect features, that smooth and delicate skin, thoseluminous eyes. Yet his eyes were still hard and it was in his roughest,gruffest tones that he said:

  "You needn't be afraid, I won't hurt you."

  "I'll give you everything I have," she panted, "if only you'll go away."

  "Not so fast as all that," he answered, coolly, for indeed he had nottaken so mad a risk in order to go away again if he could help it. "Whois there in the house besides you?"

  "Only mother," she answered, looking up at him very pleadingly as if inhopes that he must relent when he saw her in distress. "Please, won'tyou take what you want and go away? Please don't disturb mother, itwould nearly kill her."

  "I'm not going to hurt either you or your mother if you'll be sensible,"he said irritably, for, unreasonably enough, the extreme fear she showedand her pleading tones annoyed him. He had a feeling that he wouldlike to shake her, it was so absurd of her to look at him as though sheexpected him to gobble her up in a mouthful.

  She seemed a little reassured.

  "Mother will be so dreadfully frightened," she repeated, "I'll give youeverything there is in the house if only you'll go at once."

  "I can take everything I want without your giving it me," he retorted."How do I know you're telling the truth when you say there's no one elsein the house? How many servants have you?"

  "None," she answered. "There's a woman comes every day, but she doesn'tsleep here."

  "Do you live all alone here with your mother?" he asked, watching herkeenly.

  "There's my stepfather," she answered. "But he's not here tonight."

  "Oh, is he away?" Dunn asked, his expression almost one ofdisappointment.

  The girl, whose first extreme fear had passed and who was watching himas keenly as he watched her, noticed this manner of disappointment, andcould not help wondering what sort of burglar it was who was not pleasedto hear that the man of the house was away, and that he had only twowomen to deal with.

  And it appeared to her that he seemed not only disappointed, but ratherat a loss what to do next.

  As in truth he was, for that the stepfather should be away, and thisgirl and her mother all alone, was, perhaps, the one possibility that hehad never considered.

  She noticed, too, that he did not pay any attention to her jewellery,which was lying close to his hand on the toilet-table, and though inpoint of actual fact this jewellery was not of any great value, it wasexceedingly precious in her eyes, and she did not understand a burglarwho showed no eagerness to seize on it.

  "Did you want to see Mr. Dawson?" she asked, her voice more confidentnow and even with a questioning note in it.

  "Mr. Dawson! Who's he?" Dunn asked, disconcerted by the question, butnot wishing to seem so.

  "My stepfather, Mr. Deede Dawson," she answered. "I think you knew that.If you want him, he went to London early today, but I think it's quitelikely he may come back tonight."

  "What should I want him for?" growled Dunn, more and more disconcerted,as he saw that he was not playing his part too well.

  "I don't know," she answered. "I suppose you do."

  "You suppose a lot," he retorted roughly. "Now you listen to me. I don'twant to hurt you, but I don't mean to be interfered with. I'm going overthe house to see what I can find that's worth taking. Understand?"

  "Oh, perfectly," she said.

  She was watching him closely, and she noticed that he still made noattempt to take possession of her jewellery, though it lay at his hand,and that puzzled her very much, indeed, for she supposed the very firstthing a burglar did was always to seize such treasures as these of hers.But this man paid them no attention whatever, and did not even noticethem.

  He was feeling in his pockets now and he took out the revolver and thecoil of thin rope he had secured from the burglar.

  "Now, do you know what I'm going to do?" he asked, with an air ofroughness and brutality that was a little overdone. He put the revolverand the rope down on the bed, the revolver quite close to her.

  "I'm going," he continued, "to tie you up to one of those c
hairs. Ican't risk your playing any tricks or giving an alarm, perhaps, whileI'm searching the house. I shall take what's worth having, and then Ishall clear off, and if your stepfather's coming home tonight you won'thave to wait long till he releases you, and if he don't come I can'thelp it."

  He turned his back to her as he spoke and took hold of one of the chairsin the room, and then of another and looked at them as though carefullyconsidering which would be the best to use for the carrying out of histhreat.

  He appeared to find it difficult to decide, for he kept his back turnedto her for two or three minutes, during all of which time the revolverlay on the bed quite close to her hand.

  He listened intently for he fully expected her to snatch it up, and hewished to be ready to turn before she could actually fire. But, indeed,nothing was further from her thoughts, for she did not know in the leasthow to use the weapon or even how to fire it off, and the very thoughtof employing it to kill any one would have terrified her far more eventhan had done her experiences of this night.

  So the pistol lay untouched by her side, while, very pale and tremblinga little, she waited what he would do, and on his side he felt as muchpuzzled by her failure to use the opportunity he had put in her way asshe was puzzled by his neglect to seize her jewellery lying ready to hishand.

  He was still hesitating, still appearing unable to decide which chair toemploy in carrying out his proclaimed purpose of fastening her up whenshe asked a question that made him swing round upon her very quickly andwith a very startled look.

  "Are you a real burglar?" she said.