CHAPTER XX
MR. HORNCASTLE, FROM DARTMOOR
"And now," said Meadows, as he lay back in his arm-chair, "now, as youhave been good enough to promise to take me into your confidence, may Iask if you will give me a brief outline of the manner in which this plotagainst Mr. Carrington has been carried out?"
"Certainly," said Laurence; and he proceeded to sketch briefly theevents of the last few days.
"Well," said the doctor, when his young visitor had concluded thenarrative, "one thing is quite certain. Since you are now sure that theenemy is not lurking in this house, he must be even nearer home. I meanthat the chances are he is still hiding in the old barn. By the way, doyou happen to know of any secret place of concealment in that building?"
"No; that I do not. But I feel sure, from the manner in which thecreature escaped from me on the night when I encountered him in thedark, that there must be such a hiding-place. Strange that a new arrivalshould discover a secret room, when I, who have explored the barnscores of times, have not even learned of its existence."
"Now," pursued Meadows, "I have already told you that I am probably theone person who can throw any light upon the secrets and mysteries inwhich this weird creature plays so important a part, yet I must confessthat I am unable to divulge one word of what I know--or, rather,suspect--about the Squire's secret. As you are already aware, I do knowyour father, Mr. Carrington; that is, I did know him many years ago,before you were born, and before his marriage. Were I to tell you anysuspicions I should be breaking a promise I made, and have kept for allthese years; and I would rather die than do so. I know that by tellingyou this I am probably laying myself open to further suspicion, but Ihave found, to my cost, that to tell the truth is the best policy,whatever the consequences may be. One thing, though, I can do, and thatis to help you to run this fiendish creature to earth. This I may aswell tell you: the person who is haunting your father--the fear of whosecoming has, indeed, haunted him for years--is not a woman, as you haveat one time imagined. It is a man. And with all respect for yourdetective-nurse, his motive is neither jealousy, anarchy, nor robbery.It is revenge!"
"I must say that I always considered that such must be the case," saidLaurence; "hence my inclination to believe it was the poacher who sworeto be even with my father one day."
"Ah!" remarked Doctor Meadows, "if it were only a poacher--a prince ofpoachers, even--then our task would be very much easier. As it is, wemust prepare ourselves for a hard battle if we hope to capture therascal. Though I know nothing about him personally, I can tell you thathe is certain to be diabolically cunning and clever. You have alreadyfound that out yourself. But, tell me, have you discovered anything inthe nature of a clue? Anything such as the feather the detective infiction finds on the murdered man's bed, which may lead to the detectionof the criminal?"
Laurence shook his head. He had left the work of searching the room inwhich the final attempt had been made on the Squire's life to thedetective from Burton's. Whether Mr. Oliver Potter had taken theopportunity thus presented he did not know.
"Then, tell me, please, about your father's room. Is there alooking-glass over the mantelboard?"
"No; my father dislikes mirrors of any kind. He shaves even without theaid of a glass. But why?"
"One minute. I think you said your butler found the bedroom doorslightly ajar when he entered, and discovered that your father wasapparently murdered? Yes? Well, then, do you recollect hearing whetherany of the maids happened to be about in the corridor at the time whenthe assault must have taken place? A housemaid, for instance, with aslop pail?"
"No; I was not told that such was the case. Besides, the servants wereat supper when Kingsford went upstairs to attend to the Squire's wants,so we may be quite sure that none of the women were on the bedroomfloor. But why on earth do you ask? This has surely nothing to do withthe case?"
"I am merely trying to obtain some proof that my theory is the rightone, though, to be sure, proof is hardly necessary. What I wish todiscover is why the assassin did not carry out his vile deed."
"He, no doubt, believed that he had killed the Squire," suggested Lena,who had been following the conversation with undisguised interest.
Meadows shook his head.
"Or he was interrupted by hearing the butler's footsteps in thepassage," hazarded Laurence.
"In the latter case," said the doctor, "I should say 'no,' because, fromwhat I can gather, there is no suitable hiding-place in the room inwhich he could have concealed himself when the butler came in. There isalways the bed, of course, but I am inclined to think that he wasinterrupted in some other way. The question is, how? It might beanswered if we learned that anything had been found in theroom--anything unusual, that is to say. However, we will not troubleabout that now. What should be done is to have the barn thoroughlyoverhauled. Once we discover the hiding-place of this creature, we shallbe well on in our investigation."
Laurence was about to reply when an interruption occurred. As on theoccasion of the last visit to Durley Dene, the doctor's strange servantappeared in the doorway. This time his dusky face was pale, and heappeared to be in a great state of alarm.
"Here, quick, I want you! Come down at once, will you?" he whispered inthe doctor's ear, but not so low that the visitors could not catch thewords.
The man looked significantly at his master, who rose in haste.
"I regret that I shall have to close this very pleasant interview," hesaid, in a quivering voice. "Unexpected business causes my retirement.But, come, we must meet again before long. I will show you to the door.Lead the way, if you please, Horncastle."
As Meadows uttered this last word the servant turned to him and frownedangrily, not aware that both the visitors were watching him.
"Lead the way, Smith, I mean. I always confound your name with that ofmy last valet," Dr. Meadows added, as though prompted by the servant'sexpression of annoyance.
The shutter of a landing window had been drawn back, so that the lightfrom outside feebly pierced the darkness within. Thus was the journeydownstairs made easier. The doctor walked in front with the servant.Laurence made way at the top of the staircase for Lena to go before him.This she would not do, however, but, fumbling in the semi-darkness, shefound her lover's hand, caught it, and did not release her hold untilthe two were safely outside in the dazzling heat of the day.
The door closed behind them.
"How glad I am to get into the outside world once again!" cried Lena,joyfully, when they had reached the gate of Durley Dene. "Doctor Meadowsis very kind and nice, and a perfect gentleman, yet there is such adistinct air of mystery about the house, one is given such an impressionthat the place is peopled by ghosts, that I must confess I should havebeen frightened had I been alone there to-day. But, Laurence, themystery is no more solved than ever. It seems to get deeper every timewe make a fresh discovery. We know now that the doctor has nothing to dowith the Squire--I mean that he is not connected with the assaults--andyet he informs us that he not only knew your father and his secret, butcould explain the whole mystery, if allowed to do so."
"That's what he says," answered Laurence. "Is it the truth? And what isthe urgent business on which he was called away?"
By this time the porch of the Manse was reached, but the door beingclosed, and Laurence having mislaid his key, it was necessary to waitfor a servant to answer the bell.
"Did you hear," asked Lena, "that he called the servant Horncastle, andthen corrected himself?"
"Indeed I did; and in spite of all he said about truth being the bestpolicy, I feel sure he was lying again when he explained that a formerservant was called Horncastle. By the way, Horncastle is no common name,is it? Somehow I believe I've heard it before. Do you know anyone calledHorncastle? I certainly have some reason for recollecting the name."
At that moment Kingsford appeared at the door.
"Do you happen to know the name 'Horncastle'?" casually asked Laurenceof the butler, as he followed Lena into the house.
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"Horncastle, sir?" repeated Kingsford, who, as an old retainer, wasnever treated quite as one of the domestic servants. "No, I can't say Iknow anyone o' that name, Mister Laurence, leastways excepting 'the'Horncastle."
"And who is 'the' Horncastle?" asked Laurence, pausing to hear the oldman's answer.
"I mean the famous burgiler, sir, what escaped from Dartmoor six monthsback."
"Good gracious!" muttered Laurence to himself, and Lena thoughtsomething that could only be described by an equally forcibleinterjection.
"Ah, of course," remarked the young man, fearing to raise the butler'ssuspicion.