CHAPTER XVII
THE NUBIAN MUTE
I returned from the little market town beneath a sky of tropicalbrilliance. The landscape was bathed in a radiance of perfectmoonlight, and under the trees which thickly lined the way, theshadows had a velvet quality rarely met with in England, their edgesshowing more sharply defined than I ever remembered to have noticedthem before. But ere long I grew oblivious even of the beauty of thenight, becoming absorbed in reflections respecting this mostextraordinary case.
Every new datum acquired, instead of serving to elucidate, seemed onlymore completely to obscure the issue. Mystery revealed itself withinmystery, and this was indeed a labyrinth, to the heart of which Isometimes despaired of penetrating. Who was this woman whose elusivefigure appeared at every turn in the case? Was she one and the samewith the visitor to my cottage who had purloined the green enameledstatuette--and could it be that I had actually sat in conversationwith her in the coffee-room of the Abbey Inn and had failed torecognize her for what she was?
Beyond doubt she had extraordinary cleverness and was a weaver ofspells, so that in a sense she could temporarily disguise herpersonality. Whilst at one moment she was a repellent, half-animalcreature, at another she was a fascinating woman of the world versedin strange lores and a most entertaining companion. What objectunderlay her diverse activities? Assuming that she was concerned inthe murder of Sir Marcus Coverly, the purpose of her visit to mycottage was not far to seek; she had come to recover incriminatingevidence and had been aided, it seemed, by the hand of fate.
But why had she come to visit me at the Abbey Inn and what had shegained by this interview? Perhaps--I reflected, as I plodded along thedeserted country road--she had been interrupted on that occasion bythe inopportune appearance of Dr. Damar Greefe. Again, why had heappeared there at that moment if not because he had suspected herpresence at the Inn; and what was the relationship existing betweenthese two singular people?
That the strange story related to me by the idiotic Edward Hinessimply resolved itself into an idle adventure on the part of themysterious woman, which she had been forced to terminate (somewhatferociously, I admit) by the uncouth ardor of this rustic swain Iseemed to perceive. But unless her visit to the Abbey Inn portendedthat she had selected me as Mr. Edward Hines' successor, I failed tofit it into the scheme.
I began to long for the presence of Inspector Gatton, for theassistance of his trained mind in plumbing these depths which defiedmy single efforts. Who this woman could be I failed to imagine; andassuming that she had been concerned in the death of the late baronet,in what way she stood to profit by it was utterly beyond mycomprehension, as was the position of Dr. Damar Greefe in the matter.
On I walked and on, unconsciously increasing my pace as is my way whenI am lost in abstraction; and, perhaps stimulated to greater mentalclarity by the exercise, some of my doubts were dispersed and I becameconvinced at last that the shadowy figure which had dogged myfootsteps on the night of the crime--the owner of those blazing eyeswhich had watched me from my garden--the woman who had stolen theamulet from my writing-table, and the woman who had mutilated EdwardHines, were one and the same as my visitor at the Abbey Inn--and theunseen speaker who had conversed beneath my window on the night of myarrival at Upper Crossleys!
Here then was a definite chain linking the Red House with Friar'sPark, or at least with its vicinity, and now so clearly did my ideasfit themselves each into its correct place, that I determined upon theidentity of that other speaker who had stood in the shadows oppositethe Inn when I had awakened in the night. Mentally I recaptured thehigh, rather coarse tones of his voice, and remembering how, touchedby the spell which had seemed to lie upon the whole country-side, Ihad thought of him as Asmodeus, the master of the witches' revels, Idetermined that my judgment had been not inexact. For now I identifiedthe speaker as Dr. Damar Greefe!
So far my meditations had proceeded and I suppose I was about half-wayon my journey towards the Abbey Inn, when all at once I became awareagain of that uncomfortable feeling of surveillance. As on that nightwhen returning from the Red House to my cottage I had experienced aconviction that I was followed, so now a like conviction impresseditself upon my mind. But whereas on the former occasion I had beenless fearful than curious, now I was aware of a positive dread of thisfollower whose presence I had detected, by what sense I know not, andof a certainty of a very grave menace.
Accordingly, I determined upon a certain plan which I proceeded to putinto execution without delay. I was traversing a stretch ofmoon-bathed road at the moment that I first fell a victim to thisunpleasant suspicion which indeed was more than a suspicion, whenahead of me I observed a patch, some twenty yards in extent, which wasentirely overshadowed by trees. For at this point the woods, clothinga slope which ran right down to the road, closely impinged upon thehighway; and I had noticed something at this spot, on my outwardjourney, which I now proposed to employ to my advantage.
Into this patch of darkness I walked then, my steps sounding crisplyalong the road. On I went for some twenty yards until I found theparticular spot for which I was seeking. This was a sort of little bayor inlet where until quite recently a heap of stones used byroadmenders had lain, and into this I marched, never once altering mypace. But having gained it I performed an about-turn and continued tomark time there, whilst surveying the moon-bathed road behind me.
The object of this trick will be evident enough; for whilst the soundof my footsteps would lead one in pursuit to suppose that I wasproceeding upon my way through the shadows, actually I was staringintently back in quest of the pursuer of whose presence I had becomeassured.
Perhaps in spite of the cautious manner in which he had advanced, hehad made some slight sound which, subconsciously detected, hadnevertheless intruded upon my reverie and in this way had acquaintedme with his presence. For now, continuing that steady beat, butwatching intently, I saw him.
Taking every advantage of the shade cast by the hedge on the right ofthe road, a softly-moving figure was coming towards me!
That the tracker was desirous of avoiding observation the manner ofhis approach sufficiently proved; and if I had had any doubtsrespecting his purpose they would have been resolved in a mannerpainful to myself had I not had the good fortune to detect him intime.
A piece of road there was, which because of a gap in the hedgeafforded no shadow, and as the gliding shape reached this point andpassed it, I obtained a momentary but clear view of my pursuer.
I was being tracked by a Nubian mute!
That one glance was sufficient to convince me of the horrible truth.The man was stripped to the waist, in order no doubt that hismovements might not be impeded, and I beheld a torso like that of someMilo wrought in ebony! The cruel, animal face, the blubber lips, thepartly bared teeth--all spoke of the fate designed for me. I knew thetype and knew what scant mercy I could look for at his hands.Indubitably this was a mute such as is sometimes attached to theharems of great Eastern houses to this day; and even if I had knownnothing of the functions of such a servitor, the fact that he carriedsomething in his left hand would have enlightened me.
It was a _strangling-cord_!
I smiled grimly. Respecting the identity of my would-be assassin therewas little room for doubt; he was the black servant of Dr. DamarGreefe. Now, as he passed the bright patch of roadway and began toglide silently nearer through the shadows, I marked time with alighter step, the more deeply to confuse him. Of the strange Nubiandialect I knew nothing, but taking it for granted that the man wasfamiliar with Arabic, I raised my voice in a mournful cry, and (in theArab tongue):
"Cassim! Cassim!" I wailed--"Satan is calling for you!"
I think I have never witnessed such an exhibition of panic fright as Inow beheld. Cassim was less than ten yards away--and I could hear histeeth chattering!
"Cassim!" I cried again--"Fly! fly! Satan is here!"
A horrible tongueless babbling answered the cry. There came ascuffling--and I saw the Nubian's
gleaming body leap out into thelighted roadway as he fled.
"Faster! faster! Cassim!" I wailed. "He is behind you! Ah! he is _infront_!"
Cassim staggered, turned and then stood still, looking this way andthat in a perfect delirium of fear. Finally he whirled around to theright, shrieking wildly (I think some nocturnal insect had brushedagainst him), plunged babbling up the bank to the hedge and heedlessof the fact that it contained many thorns which must have cruellylacerated his bare body, scrambled half through it and half over itinto the plowed field beyond!
Against such an enemy there is no more potent weapon thansuperstition. Nevertheless I kept my hand upon the pistol in my pocketand proceeded at an increased pace during the latter half of myjourney; nor am I ashamed to admit that the lights of the Abbey Innwere a welcome sight, and it was with a feeling of relief that,leaving the highroad behind me, I found myself again in the villagestreet of Upper Crossleys.
What to expect next, I knew not. The other party had made a falsemove, for I now had definite evidence of the antagonism of Dr. DamarGreefe and of his intent to cause my murder through the agency of hisNubian servant.
My plan of nocturnal operations, already sufficiently dangerous, nowpromised to lead me into extreme peril. I would have given much forthe company of Gatton, but, if I must act alone--alone I would setout. If I am slow in planning, at least I can state with truth that Iam tenacious in execution. But here, now, was open warfare: and I mustlook for an enemy prepared.