THE BITTERMEADS MYSTERY
By E. R. Punshon
CONTENTS
I THE LONE PASSENGER
II THE FIGHT IN THE WOODS
III A COINCIDENCE
IV A WOMAN WEEPS
V A WOMAN AND A MAN
VI A DISCOVERY
VII QUESTION AND ANSWER
VIII CAPTIVITY CAPTURE
IX THE ATTIC OF MYSTERY
X THE NEW GARDENER
XI THE PROBLEM
XII AN AVOWAL
XIII INVISIBLE WRITING
XIV LOVE-MAKING AT NIGHT
XV THE SOUND OF A SHOT
XVI IN THE WOOD
XVII A DECLARATION
XVIII ROBERT DUNN'S ENEMY
XIX THE VISIT TO WRESTE ABBEY
XX ELLA'S WARNING
XXI DOUBTS AND FEARS
XXII PLOTS AND PLANS
XXIII COUNTER PLANS
XXIV AN APHORISM
XXV THE UNEXPECTED
XXVI A RACE AGAINST TIME
XXVII FLIGHT AND PURSUIT
XXVIII BACK AT BITTERMEADS
XXIX THE ATTIC
XXX SOME EXPLANATIONS
XXXI CONCLUSION
CHAPTER I. THE LONE PASSENGER
That evening the down train from London deposited at the little countrystation of Ramsdon but a single passenger, a man of middle height,shabbily dressed, with broad shoulders and long arms and a most unusualbreadth and depth of chest.
Of his face one could see little, for it was covered by a thick growthof dark curly hair, beard, moustache and whiskers, all overgrown andill-tended, and as he came with a somewhat slow and ungainly walk alongthe platform, the lad stationed at the gate to collect tickets grinnedamusedly and called to one of the porters near:
"Look at this, Bill; here's the monkey-man escaped and come back alongof us."
It was a reference to a travelling circus that had lately visited theplace and exhibited a young chimpanzee advertised as "the monkey-man,"and Bill guffawed appreciatively.
The stranger was quite close and heard plainly, for indeed the youth atthe gate had made no special attempt to speak softly.
The boy was still laughing as he held out his hand for the ticket, andthe stranger gave it to him with one hand and at the same time shot outa long arm, caught the boy--a well-grown lad of sixteen--by the middleand, with as little apparent effort as though lifting a baby, swung himinto the air to the top of the gate-post, where he left him clingingwith arms and legs six feet from the ground.
"Hi, what are you a-doing of?" shouted the porter, running up, as theamazed and frightened youth, clinging to his gate-post, emitted a dismalhowl.
"Teaching a cheeky boy manners," retorted the stranger with an angrylook and in a very gruff and harsh voice. "Do you want to go on top ofthe other post to make a pair?"
The porter drew back hurriedly.
"You be off," he ordered as he retreated. "We don't want none of yoursort about here."
"I certainly have no intention of staying," retorted the other asgruffly as before. "But I think you'll remember Bobbie Dunn next time Icome this way."
"Let me down; please let me down," wailed the boy, clinging desperatelyto the gate-post on whose top he had been so unceremoniously deposited,and Dunn laughed and walked away, leaving the porter to rescue hisyouthful colleague and to cuff his ears soundly as soon as he had doneso, by way of a relief to his feelings.
"That will learn you to be a bit civil to folk, I hope," said the porterseverely. "But that there chap must have an amazing strong arm," headded thoughtfully. "Lifting you up there all the same as you was abunch of radishes."
For some distance after leaving the station, Dunn walked on slowly.
He seemed to know the way well or else to be careless of the directionhe took, for he walked along deep in thought with his eyes fixed on theground and not looking in the least where he was going.
Abruptly, a small child appeared out of the darkness and spoke to him,and he started violently and in a very nervous manner.
"What was that? What did you say, kiddy?" he asked, recovering himselfinstantly and speaking this time not in the gruff and harsh tones he hadused before but in a singularly winning and pleasant voice, cultivatedand gentle, that was in odd contrast with his rough and batteredappearance. "The time, was that what you wanted to know?"
"Yes, sir; please, sir," answered the child, who had shrunk back inalarm at the violent start Dunn had given, but now seemed reassured byhis gentle and pleasant voice. "The right time," the little one addedalmost instantly and with much emphasis on the "right."
Dunn gravely gave the required information with the assurance that tothe best of his belief it was "right," and the child thanked him andscampered off.
Resuming his way, Dunn shook his head with an air of gravedissatisfaction.
"Nerves all to pieces," he muttered. "That won't do. Hang it all, thejob's no worse than following a wounded tiger into the jungle, and I'vedone that before now. Only then, of course, one knew what to expect,whereas now--And I was a silly ass to lose my temper with that boy atthe station. You aren't making a very brilliant start, Bobby, my boy."
By this time he had left the little town behind him and he was walkingalong a very lonely and dark road.
On one side was a plantation of young trees, on the other there was theopen ground, covered with furze bush, of the village common.
Where the plantation ended stood a low, two-storied house of mediumsize, with a veranda stretching its full length in front. It stood backfrom the road some distance and appeared to be surrounded by a largegarden.
At the gate Dunn halted and struck a match as if to light a pipe, andby the flickering flame of this match the name "Bittermeads," painted onthe gate became visible.
"Here it is, then," he muttered. "I wonder--"
Without completing the sentence he slipped through the gate, which wasnot quite closed, and entered the garden, where he crouched down in theshadow of some bushes that grew by the side of the gravel path leadingto the house, and seemed to compose himself for a long vigil.
An hour passed, and another. Nothing had happened--he had seen nothing,heard nothing, save for the passing of an occasional vehicle orpedestrian on the road, and he himself had never stirred or moved, sothat he seemed one with the night and one with the shadows wherehe crouched, and a pair of field-mice that had come from the commonopposite went to and fro about their busy occupations at his feetwithout paying him the least attention.
Another hour passed, and at last there began to be signs of life aboutthe house.
A light shone in one window and in another, and vanished, and soon thedoor opened and there appeared two people on the threshold, clearlyvisible in the light of a strong incandescent gas-burner just within thehall.
The watcher in the garden moved a little to get a clearer view.
In the paroxysm of terror at this sudden coming to life of what they hadbelieved to be a part of the bushes, the two little field-mice scamperedaway, and Dunn bit his lip with annoyance, for he knew well that some ofthose he had had traffic with in the past would have been very sure,on hearing that scurrying-off of the frightened mice, that some one waslurking near at hand.
But the two in the lighted doorway opening on the veranda heard andsuspected nothing.
One was a man, one a woman, both were young, both were extraordinarilygood-looking, and as they stood in the blaze of the gas they made astriki
ngly handsome and attractive picture on which, however, Dunnseemed to look from his hiding-place with hostility and watchfulsuspicion.
"How dark it is, there's not a star showing," the girl was saying."Shall you be able to find your way, even with the lantern? You'll keepto the road, won't you?"
Her voice was low and pleasant and so clear Dunn heard every worddistinctly. She seemed quite young, not more than twenty or twenty-one,and she was slim and graceful in build and tall for a woman. Her face,on which the light shone directly, was oval in shape with a broad, lowforehead on which clustered the small, unruly curls of her dark brownhair, and she had clear and very bright brown eyes. The mouth and chinwere perhaps a little large to be in absolute harmony with the rest ofher features, and she was of a dark complexion, with a soft anddelicate bloom that would by itself have given her a right to claim herpossession of a full share of good looks. She was dressed quite simplyin a white frock with a touch of colour at the waist and she had a veryflimsy lace shawl thrown over her shoulders, presumably intended as aprotection against the night air.
Her companion was a very tall and big man, well over six feet in height,with handsome, strongly-marked features that often bore an expression alittle too haughty, but that showed now a very tender and gentle look,so that it was not difficult to guess the state of his feelings towardsthe girl at his side. His shoulders were broad, his chest deep, and hiswhole build powerful in the extreme, and Dunn, looking him up and downwith the quick glance of one accustomed to judge men, thought that hehad seldom seen one more capable of holding his own.
Answering his companion's remark, he said lightly:
"Oh, no, I shall cut across the wood, it's ever so much shorter, youknow."
"But it's so dark and lonely," the girl protested. "And then, after lastweek--"
He interrupted her with a laugh, and he lifted his head with a certainnot unpleasing swagger.
"I don't think they'll trouble me for all their threats," he said. "Forthat matter, I rather hope they will try something of the sort on. Theyneed a lesson."
"Oh, I do hope you'll be careful," the girl exclaimed.
He laughed again and made another lightly-confident, almost-boastfulremark, to the effect that he did not think any one was likely tointerfere with him.
For a minute or two longer they lingered, chatting together as theystood in the gas-light on the veranda and from his hiding-place Dunnwatched them intently. It seemed that it was the girl in whom he waschiefly interested, for his eyes hardly moved from her and in them thereshowed a very grim and hard expression.
"Pretty enough," he mused. "More than pretty. No wonder poor Charlesraved about her, if it's the same girl--if it is, she ought to knowwhat's become of him. But then, where does this big chap come in?"
The "big chap" seemed really going now, though reluctantly, and it wasnot difficult to see that he would have been very willing to stay longerhad she given him the least encouragement.
But that he did not get, and indeed it seemed as if she were a littlebored and a little anxious for him to say good night and go.
At last he did so, and she retired within the house, while he cameswinging down the garden path, passing close to where Dunn lay hidden,but without any suspicion of his presence, and out into the high road.