CHAPTER VII. QUESTION AND ANSWER
Dunn obeyed promptly.
There was that about this little fat, smiling man and his unsmiling eyeswhich proclaimed very plainly that he was quite ready to put his threatinto execution.
For a moment or two they stood thus, each regarding the other veryintently. Dunn, his hands in the air, the steady barrel of the other'spistol levelled at his heart, knew that never in all his adventurouslife had he been in such deadly peril as now, and the grotesquethought came into his mind to wonder if there were room for two in thatpacking-case in the attic.
Or perhaps no attempt would be made to hide his death since, after all,it is always permissible to shoot an armed burglar.
The clock on the stairs began to strike the hour, and he wondered if hewould still be alive when the last stroke sounded.
He did not much think so for he thought he could read a very deadlypurpose in the other's cold grey eyes, nor did he suppose that a manwith such a secret as that of the attic upstairs to hide was likely tostand on any scruple.
And he thought that if he still lived when the clock finished strikinghe would take it for an omen of good hope.
The last stroke sounded and died away into the silence of the night.
The revolver was still levelled at his heart, the grim purpose in theother's eyes had not changed, and yet Dunn drew a breath of deep reliefas though the worst of the danger was past.
Through his mind, that had been a little dulled by the suddenconsciousness of so extreme a peril, thought began again to race withmore than normal rapidity and clearness.
It occurred to him, with a sense of the irony of the position, thatwhen he entered this house it had been with the deliberate intentionof getting himself discovered by the inmates, believing that to showhimself to them in the character of a burglar might gain him theirconfidence.
It had seemed to him that so he might come to be accepted as one of themand perhaps learn in time the secret of their plans.
The danger that they might adopt the other course of handing him over tothe police had not seemed to him very great, for he had his reasons forbelieving that there would be no great desire to draw the attention ofthe authorities to Bittermeads for any reason whatever.
But the discovery he had made in the attic changed all that. It changedhis plans, for now he could go to the police immediately. And it changedalso his conception of how these people were likely to act.
Before, it had not entered his mind to suppose that he ran any specialrisk of being shot at sight, but now he understood that the only thingstanding between him and instant death was the faint doubt in hiscaptor's mind as to how much he knew.
It seemed to him his only hope was to carry out his original plan andtry to pass himself off as the sort of person who might be likely to beuseful to the master of Bittermeads.
"Don't shoot, sir," he said, in a kind of high whine. "I ain't done noharm, and it's a fair cop--and me not a month out of Dartmoor Gaol. Ishall get a hot 'un for this, I know."
The little fat man did not answer; his eyes were as deadly, the muzzleof his pistol as steady as before.
Dunn wondered if it were from that pistol had issued the bullet that haddrilled so neat and round a hole in his friend's forehead. He supposedso.
He said again
"Don't shoot, Mr. Deede Dawson, sir; I ain't done no harm."
"Oh, you know my name, do you, you scoundrel?" Deede Dawson said, alittle surprised.
"Yes, sir," Dunn answered. "We always find out as much as we can about acrib before we get to work."
"I see," said Mr. Dawson. "Very praiseworthy. Attention to business andall that. Pray, what did you find out about me?"
"Only as you was to be away tonight, sir," answered Dunn. "And thatthere didn't seem to be any other man in the house, and, of course,how the house lay and the garden, and so. But I didn't know as you wascoming home so soon."
"No, I don't suppose you did," said Deede Dawson.
"I ain't done no harm," Dunn urged, making his voice as whining andpleading as he could. "I've only just been looking round the two topfloors--I ain't touched a thing. Give a cove a chance, sir."
"You've been looking round, have you?" said Deede Dawson slowly. "Didyou find anything to interest you?"
"I've only been in the bedrooms and the attics," answered Dunn, changingnot a muscle of his countenance and thinking boldness his safest course,for he knew well the slightest sign or hint of knowledge that he gavewould mean his death. "I'd only just come downstairs when you copped me,sir; I ain't touched a thing in one of these rooms down here."
"Haven't you?" said Deede Dawson slowly, and his face was paler, hiseyes more deadly, the muzzle of his pistol yet more inflexibly steadythan before.
More clearly still did Dunn realize that the faintest breath ofsuspicion stirring in the other's mind that he knew of what was hiddenin the attic would mean certain death and just such another neat littlehole bored through heart or brain as that he had seen showing in theforehead of his dead friend.
"Haven't you, though?" Deede Dawson repeated. "The bedrooms--theattics--that's all?"
"Yes, sir, that's all, take my oath that's all," Dunn repeatedearnestly, as if he wished very much to impress on his captor that hehad searched bedrooms and attics thoroughly, but not these downstairsrooms.
Deede Dawson was plainly puzzled, and for the first time a little doubtseemed to show in his hard grey eyes.
Dunn perceived that a need was on him to know for certain whether hisdreadful secret had been discovered or not.
Until he had assured himself on that point Dunn felt comparatively safe,but he still knew also that to allow the faintest suspicion to dawn inDeede Dawson's mind would mean for him instant death.
He saw, too, watching very warily and ready to take advantage of anymomentary slip or forgetfulness, how steady was Deede Dawson's hand, howfirm and watchful his eyes.
With many men, with most men indeed, Dunn would have seized or made someopportunity to dash in and attack, taking the chance of being shotdown first, since there are few indeed really skilled in the use of arevolver, the most tricky if the most deadly of weapons.
But he realized he had small hope of taking unawares this fat littlesmiling man with the unsmiling eyes and steady hand, and he was wellconvinced that the first doubtful movement he made would bring a bulletcrashing through his brain.
His only hope was in delay and in diverting suspicion, and DeedeDawson's voice was very soft and deadly as he said:
"So you've been looking in the bedrooms, have you? What did you findthere?"
"Nothing, sir, not a thing," protested Dunn. "I didn't touch a thing,I only wanted to look round before coming down here to see about thesilver."
"And the attics?" asked Deede Dawson. "What did you find there?"
"There wasn't no one in them," Dunn answered. "I only wanted to makesure the young lady was telling the truth about there being no servantsin the house to sleep."
"Did you look in all the attics, then?" asked Deede Dawson.
"Yes," answered Dunn. "'There was one as was locked, but I tooked theliberty of forcing it just to make sure. I ain't done no harm to speakof."
"You found one locked, eh?" said Deede Dawson, and his smile grew stillmore pleasant and more friendly. "That must have surprised you a gooddeal, didn't it?"
"I thought as perhaps there was some one waiting already to give thealarm," answered Dunn. "I didn't mind the old lady, but I couldn't riskthere being some one hiding there, so I had to look, but I ain't done nodamage to speak of, I could put it right for you myself in half-an-hour,sir, if you'll let me."
"Could you, indeed?" said Deede Dawson. "Well, and did you find any onesleeping there?"
But for that hairy disguise upon his cheeks and chin, Dunn would almostcertainly have betrayed himself, so dreadful did the question seem tohim, so poignant the double meaning that it bore, so clear his memory ofhis friend he had found there, sleeping indeed.
But there was nothing to show his inner agitation, as he said, shakinghis head.
"There wasn't no one there, any more than in the other attics, nothingbut an old packing-case."
"And what?" said Deede Dawson, his voice so soft it was like a caress,his smile so sweet it was a veritable benediction. "What was in thatpacking-case?"
"Didn't look," answered Dunn, and then, with a sudden change of manner,as though all at once understanding what previously had puzzled him."Lum-me," he cried, "is that where you keep the silver? Lor', and tothink I never even troubled to look."
"You never looked?" repeated Deede Dawson.
Dunn shook his head with an air of baffled regret. "Never thought ofit," he said. "I thought it was just lumber like in the other attics,and I might have got clear away with it if I had known, as easy as not."
His chagrin was so apparent, his whole manner so innocent, that DeedeDawson began to believe he really did know nothing.
"Didn't you wonder why the door was locked?" he asked.
"Lor'," answered Dunn, "if you stopped to wonder about everything youfind rummy in a crib you're cracking, when would you ever get yourbusiness done?"
"So you didn't look--in that packing-case?" Deede Dawson repeated.
"If I had," answered Dunn ruefully, "I shouldn't be here, copped likethis. I should have shoved with the stuff and not waited for nothingmore. But I never had no luck."
"I'm not so sure of that," said Deede Dawson grimly, and as he spoke asoft voice called down from upstairs.
"Is there any one there?" it said. "Oh, please, is any one there?"
"Is that you, Ella?" Deede Dawson called back. "Come down here."
"I can't," she answered. "I'm fastened to a chair."
"I didn't hurt the young lady," Dunn interposed quickly. "I onlytied her up as gentle as I could to a chair so as to stop her frominterfering."
"Oh, that's it, is it?" said Deede Dawson, and seemed a little amused,as though the thought of his stepdaughter's plight pleased him ratherthan not. "Well, if she can't come down here, we'll go up there. Turnround, my man, and go up the stairs and keep your hands over your headall the time. I shan't hesitate to shoot if you don't, and I nevermiss."
Dunn was not inclined to value his life at a very high price as heturned and went awkwardly up the stairs, still holding his hands abovehis head.
But he meant to save it if he could, for many things depended on it,among them due punishment to be exacted for the crime he had discoveredthis night; and also, perhaps, for the humiliation he was now enduring.