CHAPTER VIII. CAPTIVITY CAPTIVE
Up the stairs, across the landing, and down the passage opposite Dunnwent in silence, shepherded by the little man behind whose pistol wasstill levelled and still steady.
His hands held high in the air, he pushed open with his knee the doorof the girl's room and entered, and she looked up as he did so with anexpression of pure astonishment at his attitude of upheld hands thatchanged to one of comprehension and of faint amusement as Deede Dawsonfollowed, revolver in hand.
"Oh," she murmured. "Captivity captive, it seems."
At the fireplace Dunn turned and found her looking at him very intently,while from the doorway Deede Dawson surveyed them both, for once hiseyes appearing to share in the smile that played about his lips asthough he found much satisfaction in what he saw.
"Well, Ella," he said. "You've been having adventures, it seems, but youdon't look too comfortable like that."
"Nor do I feel it," she retorted. "So please set me free."
"Yes, so I will," he answered, but he still hesitated, and Dunn had theidea that he was pleased to see the girl like this, and would leaveher so if he could, and that he was wondering now if he could turn herpredicament to his own advantage in any way.
"Yes, I will," he said again. "Your mother--?"
"She hasn't wakened," Ella answered. "I don't think she has heardanything. I don't suppose she will, for she took two of those pills lastnight that Dr. Rawson gave her for when she couldn't sleep."
"It's just as well she did," said Deede Dawson.
"Yes, but please undo my hands," she asked him. "The cords are cuttingmy wrists dreadfully."
As she spoke she glanced at Dunn, standing by the fireplace andlistening gravely to what they said, and Deede Dawson exclaimed with anair of great indignation:--
"The fellow deserves to be well thrashed for treating you like that.I've a good mind to do it, too, before handing him over to the police."
"But you haven't released me yet," she remarked.
"Oh, yes, yes," he said, starting as if this were quite a new idea."I'll release you at once--but I must watch this scoundrel. He must havefrightened you dreadfully."
"Indeed he did not," she answered quickly, again looking at Dunn. "No,he didn't," she said again with a touch of defiance in her manner and acertain slightly lifting her small, round chin. "At least not much afterjust at first," she added.
"I'll loose you," Deede Dawson said once more, and coming up to her, hebegan to fumble in a feeble, ineffectual way at the cords that securedher wrists.
"Jove, he's tied you up pretty tight, Ella!" he said.
"He believes in doing his work thoroughly, I suppose," she remarked,lifting her eyes to Dunn's with a look in them that was partlyquestioning and partly puzzled and wholly elusive. "I daresay he alwayslikes to do everything thoroughly."
"Seems so," said Deede Dawson, giving up his fumbling and ineffectualefforts to release her.
He stepped back and stood behind her chair, looking from her to Dunn andback again, and once more Dunn was conscious of an impression that hewished to make use for his own purposes of the girl's position, but thathe did not know how to do so.
"You are a nice scoundrel," said Deede Dawson suddenly, with anindignation that seemed to Dunn largely assumed. "Treating a girl likethis. Ella, what would you like done to him? He deserves shooting. ShallI put a bullet through him for you?"
"He might have treated me worse, I suppose," said Ella quietly. "Andif you would be less indignant with him, you might be more help to me.There are scissors on the table somewhere."
"I'll get them," Deede Dawson said. "I'll get them," he repeated, asthough now at last finally making up his mind.
He took the scissors from the toilet-table where they lay before thelooking-glass and cut the cords by which Ella was secured.
With a sigh of relief she straightened herself from the confinedposition in which she had been held and began to rub her wrists, whichwere slightly inflamed where the cords had bruised her soft skin.
"Like to tie him up that way now?" asked Deede Dawson. "You shall if youlike."
She turned and looked full at Dunn and he looked back at her with eyesas steady and as calm as her own.
Again she showed that faint doubt and wonder which had flickered throughher level gaze before as though she felt that there was more in all thisthan was apparent, and did not wish to condemn him utterly without ahearing.
But it was plain also that she did not wish to say too much before herstepfather and she answered carelessly:
"I don't think I could tie him tight enough, besides, he looksridiculous enough like that with his hands up in the air."
It was her revenge for what he had made her suffer. He felt himselfflush and he knew that she knew that her little barbed shaft had struckhome.
"Well, go and look through his pockets," Deede Dawson said. "And see ifhe's got a revolver. Don't be frightened; if he lowers his hands he'llbe a dead man before he knows it."
"He has a pistol," she said. "He showed it me, it's in his coat pocket."
"Better get it then," Deede Dawson told her. She obeyed and broughthim the weapon, and he nodded with satisfaction as he put it in his ownpocket.
"I think we might let you put your hands down now," he remarked, andDunn gladly availed himself of the permission, for every muscle in hisarms was aching badly.
He remained standing by the wall while Deede Dawson, seating himself onthe chair to which Ella had been bound, rested his chin on his lefthand and, with the pistol still ready in his right, regarded Dunn with asteady questioning gaze.
Ella was standing near the bed. She had poured a few drops ofeau-de-Cologne on her wrists and was rubbing them softly, and for everafter the poignant pleasant odour of the scent has remained associatedin Robert Dunn's mind with the strange events of that night so thatalways even the merest whiff of it conjures up before his mind a pictureof that room with himself silent by the fireplace and Ella silent bythe bed and Deede Dawson, pistol in hand, seated between them, as silentalso as they, and very watchful.
Ella appeared fully taken up with her occupation and might almost haveforgotten the presence of the two men. She did not look at either ofthem, but continued to rub and chafe her wrists softly.
Deede Dawson had forgotten for once to smile, his brow was slightlywrinkled, his cold grey eyes intent and watchful, and Dunn felt verysure that he was thinking out some plan or scheme.
The hope came to him that Deede Dawson was thinking he might prove ofuse, and that was the thought which, above all others, he wished theother to have. It was, indeed, that thought which all his recent actionshad been aimed to implant in Deede Dawson's mind till his dreadfuldiscovery in the attic had seemed to make at last direct actionpossible. How, in his present plight that thought, if Deede Dawsonshould come to entertain it, might yet prove his salvation. Now andagain Deede Dawson gave him quick, searching glances, but when at lasthe spoke it was Ella he addressed.
"Wrists hurt you much?" he asked.
"Not so much now," she answered. "They were beginning to hurt a greatdeal, though."
"Were they, though?" said Deede Dawson. "And to think you might havebeen like that for hours if I hadn't chanced to come home. Too bad, whata brute this fellow is."
"Men mostly are, I think," she observed indifferently.
"And women mostly like to get their own back again," he remarked witha chuckle, and then turned sharply to Dunn. "Well, my man," he asked,"what have you got to say for yourself?"
"Nothing," Dunn answered. "It was a fair cop."
"You've had a taste of penal servitude before, I suppose?" Deede Dawsonasked.
"Maybe," Dunn answered, as if not wishing to betray himself. "Maybenot."
"Well, I think I remember you said something about not being long outof Dartmoor," remarked Deede Dawson. "How do you relish the prospect ofgoing back there?"
"I wonder," interposed Ella thoughtfully. "I wonder what it is in yout
hat makes you so love to be cruel, father?"
"Eh what?" he exclaimed, quite surprised. "Who's being cruel?"
"You," she answered. "You enjoy keeping him wondering what you are goingto do with him, just as you enjoyed seeing me tied to that chair andwould have liked to leave me there."
"My dear Ella!" he protested. "My dear child!"
"Oh, I know," she said wearily. "Why don't you hand the man over tothe police if you're going to, or let him go at once if you mean to dothat?"
"Let him go, indeed!" exclaimed Deede Dawson. "What an idea! What shouldI do that for?"
"If you'll give me another chance," said Dunn quickly, "I'll doanything--I should get it pretty stiff for this lot, and that wouldn'tbe any use to you, sir, would it? I can do almost anything--garden,drive a motor, do what I'm told, It's only because I've never had achance I've had to take to this line."
"If you could do what you're told you certainly might be useful," saidDeede Dawson slowly. "And I don't know that it would do me any goodto send you off to prison--you deserve it, of course. Still--you talksometimes like an educated man?"
"I had a bit of education," Dunn answered.
"I see," said Deede Dawson. "Well, I won't ask you any more questions,you'd probably only lie. What's your name?"
With that sudden recklessness which was a part of his impulsive andpassionate nature, Dunn answered:
"Charley Wright."
The effect was instantaneous and apparent on both his auditors.
Ella gave a little cry and started so violently that she dropped thebottle of eau-de-Cologne she had in her hands.
Deede Dawson jumped to his feet with a fearful oath. His face wentlivid, his fat cheeks seemed suddenly to sag, of his perpetual smileevery trace vanished.
He swung his revolver up, and Dunn saw the crooked forefinger quiver asthough in the very act of pressing the trigger.
The pressure of a hair decided, indeed, whether the weapon was to fireor not, as in a high-pitched, stammering voice, Deede Dawson gasped:
"What--what do you mean? What do you mean by that?"
"I only told you my name," Dunn answered. "What's wrong with it?"
Doubtful and afraid, Deede Dawson stood hesitant. His forehead hadbecome very damp, and he wiped it with a nervous gesture.
"Is that your name--your real name?" he muttered.
"Never had another that I know of," Dunn answered.
Deede Dawson sat down again on the chair. He was still plainly verydisturbed and shaken, and Ella seemed scarcely less agitated, thoughDunn, watching them both very keenly, noticed that she was now lookingat Deede Dawson with a somewhat strange expression and with an air asthough his extreme excitement puzzled her and made her--afraid.
"Nothing wrong with the name, is there?" Dunn muttered again.
"No, no," Deede Dawson answered. "No. It's merely a coincidence, that'sall. A coincidence, I suppose, Ella?"
Ella did not answer. Her expression was very troubled and full of doubtas she stood looking from her stepfather to Dunn and back again.
"It's only that your name happens to be the same as that of a friend ofours--a great friend of my daughter's," Deede Dawson said as though hefelt obliged to offer some explanation. "That's all--a coincidence. Itstartled me for the moment." He laughed. "That's all. Well, my man, ithappens there is something I can make you useful in. If you do proveuseful and do what I tell you, perhaps you may get let off. I might evenkeep you on in a job. I won't say I will, but I might. You look a likelysort of fellow for work, and I daresay you aren't any more dishonestthan most people. Funny how things happen--quite a coincidence, yourname. Well, come on; it's that packing-case you saw in the atticupstairs. I want you to help me downstairs with that--Charley Wright."
CHAPTER IX. THE ATTIC OF MYSTERY
Robert Dunn was by no means sure that he was not going to his death ashe went out of Ella's room on his way to the attics above, for he hadperceived a certain doubt and suspicion in Deede Dawson's manner, and hethought it very likely that a fatal intention lay behind.
But he obeyed with a brisk promptitude of manner, like one who saw aprospect of escape opening before him, and as he went he saw that Ellahad relapsed into her former indifference and was once more giving allher attention to bathing her wrists with eau-de-Cologne; and he saw,too, that Deede Dawson, following close behind, kept always his revolverready.
"Perhaps he only wants to get me out of her way before he shoots," hereflected. "Perhaps there is room in that packing-case for two. It willbe strange to die. Shall I try to rush him? But he would shoot at once,and I shouldn't have a chance. One thing, if anything happens to me, noone will ever know what's become of poor Charley."
And this seemed to him a great pity, so that he began to form confusedand foolish plans for securing that his friend's fate should becomeknown.
With a sudden start, for he had not known he was there, he found himselfstanding on the threshold of that attic of death. It was quite darkup here, and from behind Deede Dawson's voice told him impatiently toenter.
He obeyed, wondering if ever again he would cross that threshold alive,and Deede Dawson followed him into the dark attic so that Dunn wasappalled by the man's rashness, for how could he tell that his victimwould not take this opportunity to rise up from the place where he hadbeen thrust and take his revenge?
"What an idea," he thought to himself. "I must be going dotty, it's thestrain of expecting a bullet in my back all the time, I suppose. I wasnever like this before."
Deede Dawson struck a match and put it to a gas-jet that lighted upthe whole room. Between him and Dunn lay the packing-case, and Dunn wassurprised to see that it was still there and that nothing had changed ormoved; and then again he said to himself that this was a foolish thoughtonly worthy of some excitable, hysterical girl.
"It's being too much for me," he thought resignedly. "I've heard ofpeople being driven mad by horror. I suppose that's what's happening tome."
"You look--queer," Deede Dawson's voice interrupted the confused medleyof his thoughts. "Why do you look like that--Charley Wright?"
Dunn looked moodily across the case in which the body of the murderedman was hidden to where the murderer stood.
After a pause, and speaking with an effort, he said:
"You'd look queer if some one with a pistol was watching you all thetime the way you watch me."
"You do what I tell you and you'll be all right," Deede Dawson answered."You see that packing-case?"
Dunn nodded.
"It's big enough," he said.
"Would you like to know?" asked Deede Dawson slowly with his slow,perpetual smile. "Would you like to know what's in it--Charley Wright?"
And again Dunn was certain that a faint suspicion hung about those lasttwo words, and that his life and death hung very evenly in the balance.
"Silver, you said," he muttered. "Didn't you?"
"Ah, yes--yes--to be sure," answered Deede Dawson. "Yes, so I did.Silver. I want the lid nailed down. There's a hammer and nails there.Get to work and look sharp."
Dunn stepped forward and began to set about a task that was so terribleand strange, and that yet he had, at peril of his life--at peril of morethan that, indeed--to treat as of small importance.
Standing a little distance from the lighted gas-jet, Deede Dawsonwatched him narrowly, and as Dunn worked he was very sure that to betraythe least sign of his knowledge would be to bring instantly a bulletcrashing through his brain.
It seemed curious to him that he had so carefully replaced everythingafter making his discovery, and that without any forethought or specialintention he had put back everything so exactly as he had found it whenthe slightest neglect or failure in that respect would most certainlyhave cost him his life.
And he felt that as yet he could not afford to die.
One by one he drove in the nails, and as he worked at his gruesome taskhe heard the faintest rustle on the landing without--the faintest soundof a soft breath cautiously dr
awn in, of a light foot very carefully setdown.
Deede Dawson plainly heard nothing; indeed, no ear less acute and lesswell-trained than Dunn's could have caught sounds that were so slightand low, but he, listening between each stroke of his hammer, was surethat it was Ella who had followed them, and that she crouched upon thelanding without, watching and listening.
Did that mean, he wondered, that she, too, knew? Or was it merelynatural curiosity; hostile in part, perhaps, since evidently therelations between her and her stepfather were not too friendly--a desireto know what task there could be in the attics so late at night forwhich Deede Dawson had such need of his captive's help?
Or was it by any chance because she wished to know how things went withhim, and what was to be his fate?
In any case, Dunn was sure that Ella had followed then, and was on thelanding without.
He drove home the last nail and stood up. "That's done," he said.
"And well done," said Deede Dawson. "Well done--Charley Wright."
He spoke the name softly and lingeringly, and then all at once he beganto laugh, a low and somewhat dreadful laughter that had in it no mirthat all, and that sounded horrible and strange in the chill emptiness ofthe attic.
Leaning one hand on the packing-case that served as the coffin of hisdead friend, Dunn swore a silent oath to exact full retribution, andhenceforth to put that purpose on a level with the mission on whichoriginally he had come.
Aloud, and in a grumbling tone he said:
"What's the matter with my name? It's a name like any other. What'swrong with it?"
"What should there be?" flashed Deede Dawson in reply.
"I don't know," Dunn answered. "You keep repeating it so, that's all."
"It's a very good name," Deede Dawson said. "An excellent name. Butit's not suitable. Not here." He began to laugh again and then stoppedabruptly.
"Do you know, I think you had better choose another?" he said.
"It's all one to me," declared Dunn. "If Charley Wright don't suit, howwill Robert Dunn do? I knew a man of that name once."
"It's a better name than Charley Wright," said Deede Dawson. "We'll callyou Robert Dunn--Charley Wright. Do you know why I can't have you callyourself Charley Wight?"
Dunn shook his head.
"Because I don't like it," said Deede Dawson. "Why, that's a name thatwould drive me mad," he muttered, half to himself.
Dunn did not speak, but he thought this was a strange thing for theother to say and showed that even he, cold and remorseless and withoutany natural feeling, as he had seemed to be, yet had about him stillsome touch of humanity.
And as he mused on this, which seemed to him so strange, though reallyit was not strange at all, his attentive ears caught the sound of a softstep without, beginning to descend the stairs.
Had that name, then, been more than she also could bear?
If so, she must know.
"I don't see why, I don't see what's wrong with it," he said aloud. "ButRobert Dunn will suit me just as well."
"All a matter of taste," said Deede Dawson, his manner more composed andnatural again.
"It's a funny thing now--suppose my name was Charley Wright, then therewould be two Charley Wrights in this attic, eh? A coincidence, thatwould be?"
"I suppose so," answered Dunn. "I knew another man named Charley Wrightonce."
"Did you? Where's he?"
"Oh, he's dead," answered Dunn.
Deede Dawson could not repress the start he gave and for a moment Dunnthought that his suspicions were really roused. He came a little nearer,his pistol still ready in his hand.
"Dead, is he?" he said. "That's a pity. He's not here, then; but itwould be funny wouldn't it, if there were two Charley Wrights in oneroom?"
"I don't know what you mean," Dunn answered. "I think there are lots offunnier things than that would be."
"That's where you're wrong," retorted Deede Dawson, and he laughedagain, shrilly and dreadfully, a laughter that had in it anything butmirth.
"Can you carry that packing-case downstairs if I help you get it on yourshoulder?" he asked abruptly.
"It's heavy, but I might," Dunn answered.
He supposed that now it was about to be hidden somewhere and he feltthat he must know where, since that knowledge would mean everything andenable him to set the authorities to work at once immediately he couldcommunicate with them.
The weight of the thing taxed even his great strength to the utmost, buthe managed it somehow, and bending beneath his burden, he descended thestairs to the hall and then, following the orders Deede Dawson gave himfrom behind, out into the open air.
He was nearly exhausted when at last his task-master told him he couldput it down as he stood still for a minute or two to recover his breathand strength.
The night was not very dark, for a young moon was shining in a clearsky, and it appeared to Dunn, as he felt his strength returning, thatnow at last he might find an opportunity of making an attack upon hiscaptor with some chance of success.
Hitherto, in the house, in the bright glare of the gas lights, he hadknown that the first suspicious movement he made would have ensured hisbeing instantly and remorselessly shot down, his mission unfulfilled.
But here in the open air, in the night that the moon illumined butfaintly, it was different, and as he watched for his opportunity he feltthat sooner or later it was sure to come.
But Deede Dawson was alert and wary, his pistol never left his hand, hekept so well on his guard he gave Dunn no opening to take him unawares,and Dunn did not wish to run too desperate a chance, since he was surethat sooner or later one giving fair chance of success would presentitself.
"Do you want it carried any further?" he asked. "It's very heavy."
"I suppose you mean you're wondering what's in it?" said Deede Dawsonsharply.
"It's nothing to me what's in it--silver or anything else," retortedDunn. "Do you want me to carry it further, that's all I asked?"
"No," answered Deede Dawson. "No, I don't. Do you know, if you knew whatwas really in it, you'd be surprised?"
"Very likely," answered Dunn. "Why not?"
"Yes, you would be surprised," Deede Dawson repeated, and suddenlyshouted into the darkness: "Are you ready? Are you ready there?"
Dunn was very startled, for somehow, he had supposed all along thatDeede Dawson was quite alone.
There was no answer to his call, but after a minute or two there wasthe sound of a motor-car engine starting and then a big car came glidingforward and stopped in front of them, driven by a form so muffled incoats and coverings as to be indistinguishable in that faint light.
"Put the case inside," Deede Dawson said. "I'll help you."
With some trouble they succeeded in getting the case in and Deede Dawsoncovered it carefully with a big rug.
When he had done so he stepped back.
"Ready, Ella?" he said.
"Yes," answered the girl's soft and low voice that already Dunn couldhave sworn to amidst a thousand others.