the contrary the guest was as good as his word, andit needed some strength of mind to tear himself away, comparativelyearly, from that cosy lighted room with its great fire roaring up thewidth of the wide chimney--more so still, indeed, from the entrancingvision of that bright presence with the mass of gold-crowned hairgleaming in the lamplight. But Helston Varne was nothing if not strong.
Yet as he wheeled along under a clear moon, heading for Clancehurst, nowdarting through a gap of road between the blackness of sombre woods, nowskimming over high, open heath, with the dimming vista of wide countryspreading out beneath and beyond--of a truth he was thinking a greatdeal more of that same bright presence than of the important matterbefore him which he was hurrying back to unravel, and whereon hungtragedy. But he promised himself that it would not be long before herevisited Heath Hover.
Wherein becomes manifest the strange discrepancy that the astute neverfailing unraveller of mysteries, known as Helston Varne, forgot to takecount of the greatest mystery of all--that of the Future.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
SHOCK--ALL ROUND.
The master of Heath Hover had just drawn up the blind of his bedroomwindow, and was gazing out upon a morning of unrivalled and cloudlessbeauty, for the year had grown apace, and now the tender green of thespring leafage gladdened the eye in every direction. Through the openwindow floated the scents of spring--late spring--likewise its sounds,the hum of winged insects, the cry of coots from up yonder on the pond,the carolling of innumerable thrushes and the ever welcome call of thecuckoo. It was a morning on which, all things being even, it was goodto be alive.
Came also to his ears another sound, sweeter than even the sweet soundsof spring--the sound of girl voices, the high, clear notes of Melian'svoice rising above that of Violet Clinock, who had arrived the eveningbefore on a few days' visit. Nearer and nearer drew the voices, andthen their owners came in sight, and began leisurely to descend the pathleading from the sluice. A delightful picture they made, in their youthand freshness--thought the onlooker, whom as yet they had not seen.
They had paused about halfway down, and Melian was descanting volubly onsome favourite subject--and then the said onlooker's face went white andclammy, and he thought he could hardly keep his footing, for somethingbright and shining had caught his glance, and it was in Melian's hand.
The whole outlook seemed to sway and rock before Mervyn's eyes. Was itreal or was he dreaming? This dreadful thing, this hateful thing, heldcarelessly in the long white fingers! Why, he would about as soon havefound her caressing a hooded snake. What should he do, what should hesay--and would she unhesitatingly obey him? In the horror of the momenteven the power of speech seemed to fail him. But some sort of anexclamation must have escaped him, for now they looked up.
"Drop--that--thing--instantly," he managed to jerk out, and his voiceseemed far away and raucous. "Obey me--without--question, Melian."
If ever two startled girls stood staring, it was these two in the middleof the sluice path. The ghastliness of the face up there at the window,the fearful, unnatural voice. That her uncle had suddenly gone mad wasthe solution which first presented itself to Melian's perplexed mind.But she obeyed. An immense sigh of relief escaped the onlooker.
"Don't move," he said, "until I come down."
His hands trembled so that he could hardly tie the tasselled cord whichgirded his dressing gown, and he almost stumbled down the stairs in hishaste to arrive. Even in that flash of time, he was thinking--What ifthey should take advantage of his momentary disappearance from sight topick up that thing again? But he must pull himself together, and evenas he emerged he felt partially relieved to notice that they werestanding just as he had seen them last, but staring at him in round-eyedamazement.
"Why, Uncle Seward, whatever is it? You look as if you had seen all theghosts in the world."
"Here, child, show me your hands--quick!"
Still marvelling, she extended them. He seized them in his, andsubjected them to a long, close scrutiny, first with the palms upward,then all over. The colour returned to his ghastly face as he emitted along deep sigh of relief.
"Yours now, Miss Clinock."
Violet extended hers, feeling in secret rather frightened. What strangemystery was this which had been effective so violently to upset herordinarily so equable and self-contained host--this was not her firstvisit to Heath Hover. She could not but notice, while the same processwas repeated, that it seemed to be slightly less prolonged in her casethan in that of Melian.
"What does it mean, Mr Mervyn?" she asked.
"Any one would think that that rum little shining thing would bite,"said Melian, mischievously.
The two pairs of bright eyes, the dark and the blue, brimming withmischief--eke curiosity--fixed upon his face, served to brace Mervyn.He was himself again, or very nearly. And then to him came the thoughtas to how he should account for his agitation. It had been so palpablyreal that he was at his wits' end to think how he should explain itaway; and it must be explained away. Women were gifted with suchsingularly clear-sighted instinct--and, worse still, perhaps--with sucha fund of curiosity. A forestalment of this promptly came out.
"But--what _is_ the thing, Uncle Seward?" went on Melian.
He looked at her for a moment, wondering what answer to make.
"Perhaps I was upset about nothing," he said, regaining his equabilitywith an effort. "The fact is it brought back to my mind a very curiousand uncanny experience--not in this country, but I've been among strangescenes and people in other parts of the world, you know. There's agreat deal in association of ideas, and there are strange happenings allthe world over, as you two children may--or may not--find out by thetime you get to my time of life. Where did you find--that--by theway?--No--leave it where it is."
This last quickly, as Melian stooped over the thing as though to pick itup again.
"Why, just where the path begins to come down from the road," sheanswered, wondering.
"On your way _back_?"
The question came out abrupt, staccato. Some of the first agitationseemed to show itself again. And then, with the affirmative answer,both girls noticed that he looked greatly relieved.
"Well, I suppose you're both ready for breakfast," he went on in quite anormal tone. "I'm not, but you're not obliged to wait for me. Thatwould be too great a tax on your ravening young appetites, wouldn't it?Eh, Miss Clinock?"
Violet, thus appealed to, laughingly disclaimed impatience on that head,but Melian thoroughly and emphatically disagreed with her.
"Well, you'd better go and hurry old Judy up," said Mervyn. "I shallhave to go and get dressed first."
But he did not re-enter the house with them, nor, indeed, did he hurryto re-enter it at all. Both girls were rather silent and wondering, andin the minds of both was the same thought, though neither cared to voiceit to the other, and the thought was a disquieting one; perhaps toMelian the more disquieting of the two. For to her clearer insight, andwith the knowledge of her uncle's character, which she had had somemonths of opportunity to gain, his explanation of the incident did notsomehow carry conviction. There was more, far more beneath it than amere matter of evolved recollection; of that she felt fully convinced.He was not the stamp of man who would be upset by such, and thepractical side had come out in the very real fear--the agony of fearalmost--which he had manifested over the discovery of that harmlesslooking star-shaped trinket. Trinket? Well, that for want of a betterword. The thing, after all, might have been a trade mark of sorts whichhad come detached from a biscuit box or a tin of specially boomedblacking. No. There was more in this than met the eye.
Then she remembered that her uncle had spent his life in strange, out ofthe way parts of the world, mostly among strange people. What if therewas nothing accidental about this shining pointed thing being left justwhere he could find it. What if it were some sort of a sign, some sortof a manifesto? What if some danger were overhanging him? And by acurious back twist in he
r mind the thought of Helston Varne came back toher. A tower of strength seemed that thought--and then came that whichseemed to cut under its foundations.
They were both halfway through breakfast by then, when Mervyn entered--clothed and ready for the day before him. All trace of agitation seemedto have disappeared. He was even in unusual good spirits.
"By the way," he said, in the course of conversation, which he hadsomewhat cleverly led up to, "I suppose you two children are old enoughto know how not to talk. For instance--your find this morning. Iparticularly wish no word to be said about it to anybody--anybody. Notonly round here, but anywhere. Perhaps some day--though I don'tabsolutely promise that--I may give you an explanation; but only oncondition nothing is said about it now."
Both pairs of eyes sparked up. But Melian's dropped. She