Read Whatsoever a Man Soweth Page 4

revolver shot I knew by the sound.But I went on in wonder and fear. I looked at my watch, and saw thatit was just four o'clock."

  "And at a little after half-past she was with me in the Long Gallery.Perhaps the fellow fired at her?" I suggested, staring at him.

  "Or she at him?" Eric said in a low, very hard tone. "Recollect thisruffian is a lover, and moreover is in possession of some secret whichshe fears may be revealed. I saw a revolver in her hand, Wilfrid," headded hoarsely. "She threatened him with it. And she shot him! Whatcan we do to save her?"

  Scarcely had he whispered this serious question when Rainer, theunder-butler, entered to inquire if we desired anything further, and onmy replying in the negative, the man said,--

  "There's been a terrible affair up in Charlton Wood, sir, John Harris,the keeper, on going his round to-night found a man shot dead. Theysent down to the house to telephone to the doctor half-an-hour ago."

  "Who's the man?" I gasped, springing up at the servant's startlingdeclaration, while Eric stood rigid.

  "Nobody knows. They haven't brought him down to the village yet."

  Eric and I exchanged glances. But we were silent--and our silence wassurely more expressive than words.

  CHAPTER THREE.

  DESCRIBES A MAN AND A MYSTERY.

  "It's probably some poor beggar who's committed suicide," I remarked, inorder to allay Rainer's suspicions, if he had noticed the change in ourcountenances when he made his startling announcement.

  "He's badly-dressed, Harris says. Perhaps he's a tramp," remarked theservant.

  "Perhaps so. We want nothing more, Rainer, to-night," I added.

  "Very good, sir," and the man bowed and withdrew, closing the door afterhim.

  "What shall we do?" whispered Eric, quickly, his face pale beneath thesun-tan.

  I stood staring at my friend, unable to utter a word.

  Was that Sybil's secret--the secret that she had been so very nearrevealing to me? I recollected those strange words of hers, "You wouldhate me!" Yes, her secret was a guilty one.

  "Do?" I echoed at last in a low whisper, fearing Rainer might belistening. "Why, we must make our own inquiries before those localbusybodies of police step in and bungle the affair. She must be saved--don't you agree?"

  "Yes. At all costs we must save her," he cried quickly. "Let's go outand see who the fellow is."

  "Not yet. Wait for half an hour or so, until they're all gone to bed.The servants' hall is all in a flutter, it seems, and the maids will beabout frightened and whispering. If we are to get away unseen we mustslip out of yonder window. All the doors are closed now, and the dogsare loose in the courtyard."

  "You're right, old fellow. We must wait a bit," he agreed. "But what'syour private opinion of the affair?"

  "I have none," was my blank reply. "Until I have some proof, I suspectnobody."

  "Quite so. Let's leave Tibbie entirely out of the question. Remember,not a word to anyone of what I've told you, for I'm the principalwitness against her. Think, if they called me. My evidence wouldcondemn her!"

  "I regard all that you've told me, Eric, as unsaid," I responded."Tibbie is my friend."

  "But you don't think I've lied, do you?" he asked quickly, not graspingmy meaning.

  "Of course not. Why should you? We know each other too well to makefalse charges against our friends," I answered. "It is a mystery--acomplete mystery."

  "Absolutely. I was struck dumb when I discovered her in the arms of thefellow. I couldn't really believe my own eyes." Then, after a pause,he asked in a lower tone, "What secret of hers did he hold, I wonder?"

  "Ah! what indeed."

  "To me, it is very evident that she met the fellow at that lonely spotunder compulsion. She may have reciprocated his affection at one time,but her manner was inert and unresponsive. She allowed him to caressher because she was in deadly fear--I'm absolutely certain of that."

  "Then she didn't betray any love for him?"

  "None whatever. In his reproaches, however, he reminded her of how shehad once loved him and allowed him to think that he might aspire to herhand. He reproached her with cruelty and double-dealing, saying thatshe had betrayed him to his enemies, and that now, in return, he wouldreveal to the world her dark and terrible secret. This announcementelectrified her. Until that moment she apparently had no idea of herperil, but instantly she saw that he held her future entirely in hishands--and--well, that's all."

  I stood upon the hearthrug, my hands deep in my trouser-pockets, my backto the high, old stone overmantel that bore emblazoned the arms of theScarcliffs, and remained silent. What could I say? What could I thinkof the woman who was in her room somewhere above in that great oldmansion--the woman who was, no doubt, still awake in terror of themorrow?

  The stable clock clanged out half-past two, and presently Eric steppedon tip-toe to the door, opened it and looked down the great hall, dark,gloomy and mysterious, with its stands of armour, its tattered bannersand its old carved furniture of centuries ago.

  Across the hall he crept until lost in the darkness, and a few minuteslater returned carrying two hats, and saying that all was quiet in theservants' hall, and that everybody had gone to bed.

  Then we closed the door, took a wooden chair to the window, opened it,and scrambled through, dropping noiselessly down upon the grass beyond.

  We closed the old window behind us lest the night-watchman shoulddiscover it open and raise an alarm, and then started off togetherstraight across the park, in the direction of the Long Avenue that ledaway for a mile and a half down to the village.

  The night was bright and starlit, but over the grass hung a heavy whitemist, especially in the hollows.

  For a long time neither of us spoke, but presently, as we sped brisklyalong, Eric said,--

  "We must pretend that Rainer has aroused our curiosity, otherwise thevillagers will think our visit strange at this hour. Our first objectmust be to establish the fellow's identity. At present we know his nameto be Charles--and that's all."

  With this I agreed, and presently we arrived at the fine old Tudorgate-house, and passed out from the park into the broad highway that ranover Bow Hill to Chichester. Half a mile along the road we entered thequaint, peaceful little village of East Marden, with its ancient churchand long row of comfortable cottages, now, however, in darkness. Fivemiles from the railway, it still preserved its rural traditions. Therewas no inn, and consequently little distress; the village retired earlyand rose with the sun, a pleasant little place prosperous under theproprietorship of the Scarcliffs.

  Along the deserted little street we searched until we came to theconstable's cottage, in the window of which a light was burning, andknocking at the door it was opened by Mr Booth, as the villagers calledhim, a big, round-faced officer in constabulary uniform.

  "Oh! beg pardon, gentlemen!" he exclaimed, recognising us. "I thoughtit were Dr Richards. They've telephoned from the house to call him.He ought to be here by now."

  "What's the matter, Booth? What has happened?" I asked, stepping intohis clean little parlour where his wife greeted us with a curtsey."Rainer came to us and said that somebody had been found dead, so wecame out to hear all about it."

  "Yes, sir, that's right. John Harris found him some hours ago; but Iwas out on my beat across at Elsted, and they 'ad to fetch me. I'vebeen up to Charlton Wood and seen 'im, but I've left 'im there till thegov'nor comes. We've strict orders never to move a body without thesuperintendent sees it first."

  "But tell us all about it," I urged. "Who's the man, and what hashappened?"

  "Well, John Harris was goin' 'is round as usual, when 'is dog found aman lyin' just inside the wood--stone dead. Shot in the chest. Thesight, of course, gave 'im a fright, an' he comes down here quick andinforms my missis. She told him to keep it dark, as we didn't want thewhole village up there, an' sent him up to the house to telephone toMidhurst to the divisional surgeon. Then they came out and found me."

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bsp; "You don't recognise the dead man?" I asked with trepidation.

  "No. 'E's a stranger--maybe a tramp."

  "You haven't searched him?"

  "Not yet. I'm waiting for the doctor and the gov'nor. I've telephonedto him in Chichester, only 'e may be out on inspection-duty."

  "And meanwhile the body is up in the wood? Is anybody there with it?"

  "No, sir. We think it better to leave it there alone, otherwise thenews'll spread and