CHAPTER XXV
GEOFFREY IS PUZZLED
It was a long time before Ralph Ravenspur spoke again. He remained soquiet that Geoffrey began to imagine that his existence had beenforgotten. He ventured to lay a hand on his uncle's knee.
The latter started like one who sleeps uneasily under the weight of ahaunting fear.
"Oh, of course," he said. "I had forgotten you; I had forgotteneverything. And yet you brought me news of the greatest importance."
"Indeed, uncle. What was it?"
"That you shall know speedily. The danger had not occurred to me for themoment. And yet all the time it has been under my nose."
"Still, you might easily be forgiven for not seeing----"
"Seeing has nothing to do with it. And there is nothing the matter withmy hearing. The danger has been humming in my ears for days and I neverheard it. Now it is roaring like Niagara. But, please God, we shallavert the danger."
"You might take me into your confidence, in this matter, uncle."
"That I shall before a day has passed, but not for the moment. We areface to face now with the most dangerous crisis that has yet occurred.The enemy can strike us down one by one, and nobody shall dream thatthere is anything beyond a series of painfully sudden deaths. Failure ofthe heart's action the doctors would call it. That is all."
At that moment Tchigorsky returned to the room. No longer was he in thedisguise of an Indian. Perhaps he had donned it to surprise Geoffrey;perhaps he was just discarding the disguise after putting it to somepractical use. To him Ralph repeated all that Geoffrey had said.
He followed with the most rapt and most careful attention.
"Danger, indeed," he said gravely, "the danger that moves unseen on theair, and strikes from out of nothingness. I prophesied something likethis, Ralph."
"Ay, my friend," Ralph replied, "you did. But not quite the same way."
"Because I did not know that fortune had placed the medium so close athand. Where are the bees?"
Geoffrey was listening intently. Up to now he had failed to understandwhy his story had moved Ralph so profoundly. And what could the beeshave to do with it? Yet Mrs. May had mentioned bees.
"They are in two hives outside the morning-room window," said Ralph."The bees are Vera's pets, and they thrive for the most part along theflower borders of the terrace. They are ordinary bees."
"In the ordinary bar-frame hives of course?"
"Oh, yes, they are quite up to date. You can see the insects working andall that kind of thing. The hives can be moved."
"I suppose they are a nuisance occasionally?" Tchigorsky asked.
"Yes," Geoffrey smiled. "We have all been stung now and again."
Tchigorsky appeared to be satisfied on that head. He smoked a wholecigarette while he revolved a plan in his mind.
"It is necessary to get the whole family out of the way for a time," hesaid slowly. "It will be necessary to do so without delay. Unless I amgreatly mistaken, the mischief has already been done. Ralph, can youinduce your father and the whole family to go away for a time--say tillafter dark?"
"Perhaps," Ralph replied. "But not without explaining, and it isimpossible to do that. But Geoffrey might manage it. Unless he doesmanage it one or more of us will pay the penalty before daybreak."
"I will do anything you desire," Geoffrey cried eagerly.
"Then go to your grandfather and get him to arrange a picnic over toAlton Keep. It is a perfect day, and it will be possible to remain outtill dark, returning to a late supper. I know the suggestion soundsabsurd--childish in the circumstances--but it will have to be done. Saythat there is a great danger in the castle which has to be removed. Saythat nobody is to know anything about it. Go."
Geoffrey went at once. He found the head of the family in the librarytrying to interest himself in a book. He looked up as Geoffrey entered,and a slight smile came over his worn face. There were two people in thehouse who could do anything with him--Geoffrey and Vera.
"You look as if you wanted something," he said.
"I do," Geoffrey replied. "I want you to do me a great favor."
"It is granted--granted on the principle that we make the last hours ofthe condemned criminal as comfortable as possible."
"Then I want you to get up a picnic to-day."
Rupert Ravenspur dropped his glasses on the table. He wondered if thiswas some new kind of danger, a mysterious form of insanity, broughtabout by the common enemy.
"I am perfectly serious," Geoffrey said, with a smile. "Not that it isany laughing matter. Dear grandfather, there is a great danger in thehouse. I don't know what it is, but Uncle Ralph knows, and he has neverbeen wrong yet. It was he who found out all about those dreadfulflowers. And he wants the house cleared till dark. Unless we do so, themorning will assuredly see the end of one or more of us."
"Is it a painless death?" the old man asked grimly. "If it is, I preferto remain here."
"But there is always hope," Geoffrey pleaded. "And you always thinks ofus. Won't you do this thing? Won't you say that it is a sudden whim ofyours? Mind, everybody is to go, everybody but Uncle Ralph. I shall rideand when I have ridden some distance I shall pretend to have forgottensomething. Perhaps you deem me unduly foolish. But I implore you to dothis thing."
Rupert Ravenspur hesitated no longer. He always found it hard to resistthat young smiling handsome face. Not that he was blind to the folly ofthe proceedings. On his own initiative he would as soon have danced ahornpipe in the hall.
"I will go and see about it at once," he said.
He had put off his somber air, and assumed a kind of ill-fitting gayety.Gordon Ravenspur and his wife received the suggestion with becomingresignation. To them it was the first signs of a mind breaking downunder an intolerable strain. Vera and Marion professed themselves to bedelighted.
"It sounds odd," said the latter. "Fancy the doomed and fated Ravenspursgoing on a picnic! And fancy the suggestion, too, coming fromgrandfather!"
Vera looked anxious.
"You don't imagine," she said, "that his mind----"
"Oh, his mind is all right. You can see that from his face. But I expectthat the strain is telling on him, and that he wants to get out ofhimself for a time. Personally, I regard the idea as charming."
The preparations were made, no great matter in so large andwell-regulated an establishment as Ravenspur Castle. If the servantswere astonished, they said nothing. The stolid coachman sat solemnly onthe box of the wagonette; the demure footman touched his hat as he putup the step with the air of a man who is accustomed to do this sort ofthing every day.
Geoffrey stood under the big portico and waved his hand.
"You should drive with us," Marion cried.
"And you won't be long?" Vera asked.
"Oh, I am duly impressed with the importance of the occasion," Geoffreylaughed. "My horse will get there almost as soon as you arrive. Call thespaniel."
Tut, the pet spaniel, was called, but no response was made, and finallythe party drove off without him. Geoffrey watched the wagonette with astrange sense of unreality upon him. He felt that he could have scoffedat a situation like this in the pages of a novel. And yet it is thetruth that is always so improbable.
Our most solemn and most trivial thoughts always run along the groovesof the mind together, and as Geoffrey passed round the house he caughthimself wondering where the dog was. He whistled again and again. It wasa most unusual thing for Tut to be far from the family. Outside themorning room window the dog lay as if fast asleep.
"Get up, your lazy beast," Geoffrey cried; "after them, sir."
But the dog did not move; he made no sign as Geoffrey cuffed him withthe side of his foot. The dog was dead.
He lay still and placid; there was no sign of pain. There was nothingabout the carcass to suggest poison. Close by the bees were busy amongthe flowers. In the hives there seemed to be more noise than usual.Geoffrey opened the windows of the morning-room, leaving the casementflung back behind him.
A long claw was put forth to shut it.
"The window must be kept closed," Ralph Ravenspur said quietly. "Infact, I have given orders that every window in the house is to beclosed. Why, you will see presently. Did you notice anything as you camealong?"
"I was too excited," Geoffrey replied. "I have just found poor Tutoutside. The dog has died suddenly. Half an hour ago he was perfectlywell, young, full of life and vigor. And now he is dead."
"Lies just outside the window, doesn't he?" Ralph asked.
He seemed to speak callously. A man who had passed through hisexperiences and emotions was not likely to feel for the loss of a dog.And yet there was intense curiosity in his tone.
"Just outside; close to the hives."
"Ah, yes. He was poisoned, you think?"
"I expect so. And yet where could he get the poison? Nobody comes here.Perhaps it was not poison after all."
A thin smile flickered on Ralph's face.
"Yes, it was," he said; "the dog was poisoned by a bee sting."