CHAPTER IX
THE MAJOR'S MESSAGE AND HOW IT WAS DELIVERED
Selene Scott had finished her correspondence when Laurence reappeared onthe lawn of the Manse, and was waiting, ready dressed, to go for thepromised walk.
"Where have you been?" she asked, evidently guessing from Laurence'sface that something unusual had happened. "Tell me, you surely have notvisited your neighbours without me? You promised, didn't you, that youwould take me to see this mysterious Major of yours?"
There was only one thing to do, Laurence decided, and that was toconfess that he had taken another step in his investigations. Miss Scottwas much interested in his experience, slight though it was. She plainlyshowed her displeasure though, because she had not herself beenpermitted to have a share in the adventure. "The old fossil of a portermight have acted quite differently when a real live lady was standing onthe doorstep," she said, with a smile. "Promise me, now," she added,"that if you go again you will let me accompany you. I am just asinterested as you are, and quite as good a detective."
But Laurence politely refused to give the required promise. He foretoldexperiences far less pleasant than those that had already passed, beforehe would be able to say that he held the key to the mystery of hisfather's strange dread. When he recollected that Lena was a guest, andthat her connection with the extraordinary state of affairs was unknownto her aunt and guardian, Mrs. Knox, he felt that he would be doingwrong to make a promise such as the girl asked.
However, as he had already confided in her the history of the wholeseries of events that had happened during the last few days (and heregretted that he had done so when it was too late) there was no harm inrelating the story of his adventure in the barn on the previous night.But Lena was no more able to account for the queer creature's anticsthan he had been, though she agreed that there was a possibility of thatcreature and the woman in coloured skirts (the mere mention of whom hadcaused the Squire to faint) being one and the same.
The engrossing subject of what both rightly called "the" mystery filledtheir minds, and throughout the long ramble in the Northden Woods thatoccupied the best part of the morning, no other topic of conversationwas so much as touched upon. Yet in spite of this fact, Laurence feltthat Lena was becoming more to him than a mere guest--a companionamateur detective!
A few minutes yet remained before luncheon, when the two foundthemselves back in the Manse grounds again, so Laurence fetched a coupleof basket chairs on to the lawn, which was a small one, lying at theback of the house, and they sat down in the shadow of a monster hollybush, that was one of the most striking features of the place. From thisspot they could obtain a mere glimpse of the tiled roof of Durley Dene,through a break in the line of bushes that, with a palisade of stoutiron stakes, separated the grounds of the neighbouring houses. The hollybush must have stood at least sixty or eighty yards from the boundaryline.
The young people had hardly ensconced themselves beneath the welcomeshadow of the tree (for in height and size it was more like a tree thana bush) when suddenly something fell with a hard "plomp" on the softturf, and rolled almost to their feet.
Laurence started up with an exclamation of surprise, and Lena also roseto her feet.
"What is it?" she asked, and her companion hastily picked up the roundwhite ball that had caused her remark.
Whence it had come was a mystery. No one was near. Judging from thedirection in which it had rolled on reaching the ground, it must havebeen despatched, either from the barn or the laurel bushes that boundedthe grounds.
It was heavy for its size, and Laurence, on examination, found it to besomething wrapped in a piece of white paper, which was tightly fastenedround it. Lena leaned over him, curious and excited, as he proceeded topeel off the paper. When he did so, out dropped an ordinary roundpebble.
"There, it's only a hoax!" cried Lena, looking quite disappointed.
"No, no," answered Laurence: "there's something on the inside of thepaper." He smoothed the white sheet out on his knee, and then read aloudwhat was marked upon it in a small, shaky handwriting.
"Before calling in the police please pay me another visit, when I willsee you, provided you come alone, and after dark.--J. F."
"Jones-Farnell," exclaimed Lena, and for a moment or two neither of themspoke.
"Of course you won't go," said the girl, after the brief pause.
"Of course I will, Miss Scott," replied Laurence promptly.
"But--oh, won't it be too risky for you to go--alone?"
"I hope I shall be able to take care of myself, Miss Scott."
"Yes, but----"
"But?"
"Suppose it's some trap to--murder you," whispered Lena. "Look at thatletter. It is sent in a most mysterious fashion by a man you've neverseen. It tells you to come alone and after dark. Doesn't that lookfrightfully suspicious? Don't you see that if they have got some secret,or are carrying on, as I shrewdly guess, some illegal occupation, what,Heaven only knows, don't you see, if this is so, and they know that yoususpect them and are making investigations, that it will be greatly totheir advantage to have you out of the way? You know what I mean."
"Yes, I understand your argument, and appreciate your good sense, butI'm sorry that I cannot take your advice. The matter, I feel confident,is one of life and death to my poor father. Is it not only natural thatI should risk my own life for his, particularly when I am a strong manand he old and getting infirm? Besides, there may be no risk after all.We may be mistaken, though I can't see how. At any rate, it is my dutyto go to-night----"
"To-night! Oh, not so soon, surely----"
"Procrastination, you know, Miss Scott, is the thief of time. To-morrowmay be too late. Hourly, almost, I am dreading a second attempt on thepoor old Squire's life, and if I keep my appointment to-night I may yetbe in time to save him."
"But let me go with you. Do, please!" Lena cried, pleadingly.
"No, no, you must not endanger yourself. What would Mrs. Knox say?"
"I don't care what auntie says in the least, and----" she stopped short.
"Tell me," Laurence cried, as he turned to his young companion and,looking into her clear blue eyes, where he fancied he saw a glisteningtear, forgot everything, his father, himself, and the mystery that wasdeepening around them, "tell me, why do you say this, why do you mind mygoing? What can it matter to you? Is it, tell me I am right, that youare urged by the same feelings that I am when I refuse to take you withme? Say 'yes,' and you will make me the happiest being on this earth,for the reason why I will not allow you to endanger your dear life isbecause I love you."
The effect of Laurence's confession of love on Lena in fiction woulddoubtless have been the dramatic and time-honoured remark on the"suddenness" of the declaration, but this was not the reception she gaveto the young man's passionate outburst.
"Laurence," she said, and the pronunciation by her lips of his Christianname thrilled him with pleasure, "Laurence, when the mystery is solved,when you return safe from your interview to-day, then, and not tillthen, will I give you my answer."
She paused to catch her breath. With difficulty she had been able topronounce the words that in cold print appear more formal andunsatisfactory than they seemed to Laurence, intoned as they were by thegentle voice of the woman he loved.
For the moment she was transformed from a laughing, vivacious girl to asilent and thoughtful woman.
How much in her own opinion the coming visit to Durley Dene meant to hershe alone knew. She dared not betray her love for her new companion,though it was manifest in her eyes as she glanced at him; then, lookingdown, interested herself in the progress of a worm on the turf. Whatwas the secret that might--that probably would--be revealed in a fewbrief hours? Since it seemed that a woman was concerned, might not thegrim skeleton in the cupboard prove to be a disgraceful as well as agruesome one? And then? How often are not the sins of the fathersvisited upon the innocent children?
And that was why she paused and refused her answer. Had not th
e loverbeen blind, as is the love-god himself, he would have read that answeras plainly as though it had been given in words. But Laurence, at anyrate, felt he could not be discouraged. He had not been met with a blankrefusal.
He caught Lena's little ungloved hand, bent down, and kissed ittenderly.
And as he did so the gong sounded for lunch, and they made their wayback to the house, where they met the Squire for the first time that dayin the dining-room. The old man's spirits contained something of theirold joviality. At the meal he was once more, to some slight extent, thecourteous, old-fashioned host and gentleman that he had been a fewmonths back. Laurence heartily rejoiced at the change in his father'sbehaviour. Lena noticed it too. Mrs. Knox might perhaps have done soalso had the viands been less palatable or her appetite less hearty. Thecause of the transformation was unknown to any of them, but Laurenceguessed very rightly that the Squire's dread of his strange enemy hadbeen lessened by the fact that no second attack had been attempted. As amatter of fact, Mr. Carrington was beginning to hope that his assailantof two days ago had departed under the impression that the victim hadbeen killed by the cowardly shot fired into the coach as it crossed themoor.
Had he been able to glance into the mysterious future and learn what theevents of the coming night were to be, it is possible that his behaviourwould have been very different.