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twg_000000050900 | with delight, introduced him, with an air of proprietorship it seemed, to his companion, Miss Tredworth. "Have you been exploring the old tower?" Gifford asked. "We've been sitting out there," Kelson answered with a laugh. "They have converted the lower rooms into quite snug retreats." "In my uncle's day they were anything but snug," Gifford observed. "I remember we used | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050901 | to play hide-and-seek up there." He spoke with preoccupation, his eyes fixed on a bunch of white flowers which the girl wore on her black dress. They were slightly blotched and sprinkled with a dark colour in a way which was certainly not natural, and Gifford, held by the peculiar sight, looked in wonder from the flowers to the girl's | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050902 | face. "You must give Gifford a dance," Kelson said, breaking up the rather awkward pause. "I'm afraid my card is full," Miss Tredworth said, holding it up. Kelson laughed happily. "Then he shall have one of mine." But Gifford protested. "Indeed I won't rob you, Harry," he declared. "I'm tired, and should be a stupid partner." "Tired?" Kelson remonstrated. "Why, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050903 | you have been resting at the _Lion_ waiting for your things while we have been dancing our hardest." "Resting? No; I went out for a walk," Gifford replied. "The deuce you did! Where did you go to?" "Oh, nowhere particular," Gifford answered rather evasively. "Just about the town." THE STREAK ON THE CUFF Hugh Gifford did not stay very long | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050904 | at the dance. He took a mouthful of supper, and then told Kelson that he had a headache and was going to walk back to the _Golden Lion_. Kelson was distressed. "My dear fellow, coming so late and going so early, it's too bad. This is the best time of the night. I hope the old place with its memories | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050905 | hasn't distressed you." "Oh, no," was the answer. "But something has upset me. I'll get back and turn in. By the way, I don't see that man Henshaw." "No," Kelson replied casually; "I haven't seen him lately. But then I've had something better to think about than that ineffable bounder. He was here all right in the early part of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050906 | the evening. One couldn't see anything else." "Dancing?" "More or less. Well, if you will go, old fellow, do make yourself comfortable at the _Lion_ and call for anything you fancy. I'm dancing this waltz." Gifford left the dance and went back to the hotel. He seemed perplexed and worried, so much so that for some time he paced his | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050907 | room restlessly and then, instead of turning in, he went back to the sitting-room, lighted a pipe, and settled himself there to await his friend's return. It was nearly three o'clock when Kelson came in. "Why, Hugh!" he exclaimed in surprise. "Still up?" "I didn't feel like sleeping," Gifford answered, "and if I'm to keep awake I'd rather stay up." | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050908 | Kelson looked at him curiously. "I hope the visit to your old home hasn't been too much for you," he remarked with the limited sympathy of a strong man whose nerves are not easily affected. "Oh, no," Gifford assured him. "Although somehow I did feel rather out of it. I have had rather a teasing day, but I shall be | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050909 | all right in the morning, and am looking forward to a run round the scenes of my childhood." "Good," Kelson responded, relieved to think his friend's visit was not after all going to be as dismal as he had begun to fear. "Well, Hugh," he added gaily. "I have a piece of news for you." "Not that you are engaged?" | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050910 | Something, an almost apprehensive touch, in Gifford's tone rather took his friend aback. "Why not?" "To Miss--the girl you were dancing with?" Again Gifford's tone gave a check to Kelson's enthusiasm. It was with a more serious face that he replied, "Muriel Tredworth, the best girl in England. I hope, my dear Hugh, you are not going to say you | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050911 | don't think so." "Certainly not," Gifford answered promptly. "I never saw or heard of her before to-night." Kelson laughed uncomfortably. A man in love and in the flush of acceptance wants something more than a lukewarm reception of the news. "I'm glad to hear it," he responded dryly. "From your tone one might almost imagine that you knew something against | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050912 | Muriel." "Heaven forbid!" Gifford ejaculated fervently. "You don't congratulate me," his friend returned with a touch of suspicion. Gifford forced a laugh. "My dear Harry, you have taken my breath away. You deserve the best wife in the kingdom, and I sincerely hope you have got her," he said, not very convincingly. His half-heartedness, not too successfully masked, evidently struck | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050913 | Kelson. "One would hardly suppose you thought so," he said in a hurt tone. "I wish," he added warmly, "if there is anything at the back of your words you would speak out. I should hope we are old friends enough for that." Gifford glanced at the worried face of the big, simple-minded sportsman, more or less a child in | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050914 | his knowledge of the subtleties of human nature, and as he did so his heart smote him. "We are, and I hope we always shall be," he declared, grasping his hand. "You are making too much of my unfortunate manner to-night, and I'm sorry. With all my heart I congratulate you, and wish you every blessing and all happiness." There | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050915 | was an unmistakable ring of sincerity in his speech now, and, without going aside to question its motive, as a more penetrating mind might have done, Kelson accepted his friend's congratulations without question. "Thanks, old fellow," he responded, brightening as he returned the grasp of Gifford's hand. "I was sure of your good wishes. You need not fear I have | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050916 | made a mistake. Muriel is a thorough good sort, and we shall suit each other down to the ground. We've every chance of happiness." Before Gifford could reply there came a knock at the door. The landlord entered. "Beg your pardon, captain," he said, "I'm sorry to trouble you, but could you tell me whether they are keeping up the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050917 | Hunt Ball very late?" "No, Mr. Dipper," Kelson answered. "It was all over long ago. I was one of the last to come away. We left to the strains of the National Anthem." Mr. Dipper's face assumed a perplexed expression. "Thank you, captain," he said. "My reason for asking the question is that Mr. Henshaw, who has a room here, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050918 | has not come in." "Not come in?" Kelson repeated. "Too bad to keep you up, Mr. Dipper." "Well, captain," said the landlord, "you see it is getting on for four o'clock, and we want to lock up. Of course if the ball was going on we should be prepared to keep open all night if necessary. But my drivers told | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050919 | me an hour ago it was over." "So it was. I wonder"--Kelson turned to Gifford--"what can have become of the egregious Henshaw. I don't think, as I told you in the ball-room, I have seen him since ten o'clock." Gifford shrugged. "Unless he has come across friends and gone off with them." "He couldn't well do that without calling here | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050920 | for his things," Kelson objected. "I suppose he did not do that, unknown to you?" he asked the landlord. "No, captain. His things are all laid out in his room, and the fire kept up as he ordered." "Then I don't know what has become of him," Kelson returned, manifestly not interested in the subject. "I certainly should not keep | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050921 | open any longer. If Mr. Henshaw turns up at an unreasonable hour, let him wait and get in when he can. Don't you think so, Hugh?" Gifford nodded. "I think, considering the hour, Mr. Dipper will be quite justified in locking up," he answered. "Thank you, gentlemen; I will. Goodnight," and the landlord departed. Kelson turned to a side table | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050922 | and poured out a drink. "Decent fellow, Dipper, and uniformly obliging," he said. "I certainly don't see why he should be inconvenienced and kept out of his bed by that swanker, who has probably gone off with some pal and hasn't had the decency to leave word to that effect. Bad style of man altogether. Hullo! What's this?" "What's the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050923 | matter?" Gifford crossed to Kelson, who was looking at his shirt-cuff. "What's this?" A dark red streak was on the white linen. "Hanged if it doesn't look like blood," Kelson said, holding it to the light. Gifford caught his arm and scrutinized the stain. "It is blood," he said positively. THE MISSING GUEST Next morning Captain Kelson took his guest | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050924 | for a long drive round the neighbourhood. Before starting he asked the landlord at what time Henshaw had returned. "He didn't come in at all, captain," Dipper answered in an aggrieved tone. "His fire was kept up all night for nothing." "I suppose he has been here this morning," Kelson observed casually. "No," was the prompt reply. "Nothing has been | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050925 | seen or heard of him here since he left last night for the ball." Kelson whistled. "That looks rather queer, doesn't it, Hugh?" Gifford nodded. "Very, I should say. What do you make of it?" he asked the landlord. That worthy spread out his hands in a gesture of helplessness. "It's beyond me, gentlemen. We can none of us make | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050926 | it out. I've never known anything quite like it happen all the years I've been in the business." "Oh, you'll have an explanation in the course of the morning all right," said Kelson with a smile at the host's worry. "Don't take it too seriously; it isn't worth it. You've got Mr. Henshaw's luggage, which indemnifies you, and he is | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050927 | manifestly a person quite capable of taking care of himself." Mr. Dipper gave a doubtful jerk of the head. "It is very mysterious all the same." Kelson laughed as he went off with his friend. "I'm afraid I can't get up much interest in the doings of the objectionable Henshaw," he remarked lightly as they started off. "Such men as | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050928 | he know what they are about, and are not too punctilious with regard to other people's inconvenience." "No," Gifford responded quietly. "All the same, his non-appearance is a little mysterious." Kelson blew away the suggestion of mystery in a short, contemptuous laugh. "Oh, he is probably up to some devilry with some fool of a girl," he said in an | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050929 | offhand tone. "I know the type of man. They have a keen scent for impressionable women, of whom a fellow of that sort has always half-a-dozen in tow. No doubt that is what he came down here for--a tender adventure. That's the only kind of hunting he is keen on, take my word for it." "I quite agree with you | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050930 | there," Gifford answered with conviction, and the subject dropped. When they returned for luncheon they found that nothing had been heard of the _Golden Lion's_ missing guest. "It is rather an extraordinary move of our friend's," Kelson observed with a laugh. "He surely can't be living all this time in his evening clothes. Not but what a man like that | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050931 | would not let a trifle stand in his way if he had some scampish sport in view. No doubt he is up to a dodge or two by way of obviating these little difficulties." In the afternoon the two friends went up to Wynford Place to call after the dance. Kelson had naturally been much more inclined to drive over | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050932 | to the Tredworths, about seven miles away, in order to settle his betrothal, but Gifford suggested that the duty call should be paid first, and so it was arranged. To Kelson's delight he heard that Muriel Tredworth and her brother were coming over next day to stay with the Morristons for another dance in the neighbourhood and a near meet | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050933 | of the hounds; so he, warming to the Morristons, chatted away in all a lover's high spirits. "By the way," he said presently, as they sat over tea, "rather an extraordinary thing has happened at the _Golden Lion_." "What's that?" asked his host. "Did you notice a man named Henshaw here last night? A big, dark fellow, probably a stranger | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050934 | to you, but by way of being a former follower of the Cumberbatch." "An old fellow?" Morriston asked. "Oh, no. About six-and-thirty, I should say; eh, Hugh?" "Under forty, certainly," Gifford answered. "Tall and very dark, almost to swarthiness; of course I remember the man." Morriston exclaimed with sudden recollection. "I introduced him to a partner." "I noticed the fellow," | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050935 | observed Lord Painswick, who also was calling. "Theatrical sort of chap. What has he done?" Kelson laughed. "Simply disappeared, that's all." "Disappeared!" There was a chorus of interest. "How do you mean?" Morriston asked. "Left the hotel at nine last night and has never turned up since," Kelson said with an air of telling an amusing story. "Poor Host Dipper | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050936 | is taking it quite tragically, notwithstanding the satisfactory point in the case that the egregious Henshaw's elaborate kit still remains in his unoccupied bedroom." "Do you mean to say he never came back all night?" Miss Morriston asked. "Never," Kelson assured her. "Old Dipper came to us, half asleep, at four o'clock to ask whether he was justified in locking | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050937 | up the establishment." "And nothing has been seen or heard of the man since," Gifford put in. "That is queer," Morriston said, as though scarcely knowing whether to take it seriously or otherwise. "Now I come to think of it I don't recollect seeing anything of the man after quite the first part of the evening. Did you, Painswick?" "No, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050938 | can't say I did," Painswick answered. "And," observed Kelson, "he was not a man to be easily overlooked when he was on show. I missed him, not altogether disagreeably, after the early dances." "What is the idea?" Edith Morriston inquired. "Is there any theory to account for his disappearance?" "No," Kelson answered, "unless a discreditable one. Gone off at a | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050939 | tangent." "And still in his evening things?" Painswick said with a laugh. "Rather uncomfortable this weather." "That reminds me," Morriston said with sudden animation, "one of the footmen brought me a fur coat and a soft hat this morning and asked me if they were mine. They had been unclaimed after the dance and he had ascertained that they belonged | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050940 | to none of the men who were staying here. Nor were they mine." "That is most curious," Kelson said with a mystified air. "Henshaw was wearing a fur coat and soft hat when we saw him in the hall of the _Lion_ just before starting. Don't you remember, Hugh?" "Yes; certainly he was," Gifford answered. "Then they must be his," | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050941 | Morriston concluded. "And where is he--without them?" Painswick added with a laugh. "Dead of cold?" "It is altogether quite mysterious," Morriston observed with a puzzled air. "He can't be here still." "Hardly," his sister replied. "You know him?" she asked Kelson. "Quite casually. So far as nearly coming to a rough and tumble with the fellow for his cheek in | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050942 | scoffing our fly at the station constitutes an acquaintance. Gifford acted as peacemaker, and we put up with the fellow's company to the town. But neither of us imbibed a particularly high opinion of the sportsman, did we, Hugh?" "No," Gifford assented; "his was not a taking character, to men at any rate; and we rather wondered how he came | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050943 | to be going to the Cumberbatch Ball." "No doubt he got his ticket in the ordinary way," Morriston said. "It only shows, my dear Dick," his sister observed, "you may quite easily run risks in giving a semi-public dance in your own house." Morriston laughed. "Oh, come, Edith," he protested, "we need not make too much of it. We don't | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050944 | know for certain that the man was a queer character." "One finds objectionable swaggerers everywhere," Painswick put in. "Anyhow," said Kelson, "if this Henshaw was a bad lot he had the decency to efface himself promptly enough. The puzzle is, what on earth has become of him?" "I don't know, Mr. Gifford," Morriston said as the two friends were leaving, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050945 | "whether you would care for a ramble over the old place. A man named Piercy has written to me for permission to go over the house; he is, it appears, writing a book on the antiquities of the county. I have asked him to luncheon to-morrow, and we shall be delighted if you and Kelson will join us as a | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050946 | preliminary to a personally conducted tour of the house. Charlie Tredworth and his sister are coming over for a week's stay, so we shall be quite a respectable party." Naturally Kelson accepted the invitation with alacrity, and Gifford could do no less than fall in with the arrangement. "Hope you won't mind going over to Wynford," Kelson said as they | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050947 | drove back. "If it is at all painful to you from old associations, I'll make an excuse for you." Gifford hesitated a moment. "Oh, no," he answered. "I'll come. There is no use in being sentimental about the place going out of our family, and these Morristons are quite the right sort of people to have it. A splendidly thoroughbred | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050948 | type of girl, Miss Morriston." Kelson laughed. "Oh, yes; a magnificent creature; cut out for a duchess. Only, you know, my dear Hugh, if I married a woman like that I should always be a little afraid of her. A magnificent chatelaine and all that, but too cold for my taste." "You think there is no deep feeling under the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050949 | ice of her manner?" "I don't know," Kelson replied, as though the idea was quite novel to him. "Never got so far as to think of that. I like a girl with whom you can get on without going through the process of thawing her first. And with Edith Morriston I should say it would be a slow process. Anyhow, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050950 | she is just the girl for Painswick, who is evidently after her." "I should say that with him the ice is a little below the surface," Gifford ventured. Kelson laughed. "You've hit it, Hugh. He's easy enough, but scratch him and you come upon a very straight-laced aristocrat. He and the statuesque Edith Morriston are made for one another." As | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050951 | they entered the _Golden Lion_ the landlord met them. "Well, Mr. Dipper, any news of your missing guest?" Kelson inquired with characteristic cheeriness, ignoring the troubled expression on that worthy's face. "No, captain; and we can't imagine what has happened to Mr. Henshaw. There are three telegrams come for him, and I have just got one, reply-paid, to ask whether | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050952 | he is staying here." "And you replied?" "Went to Hunt Ball last night. Not been here since," Dipper quoted. "It is rather awkward and unpleasant for me, sir," he added uncomfortably. "Oh, you've no responsibility in the matter," Kelson assured him. "Don't you worry about it, Mr. Dipper. If the man goes out and does not choose to come back, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050953 | that, beyond the payment of your charges, can be no affair of yours. Isn't that so, Hugh?" "Certainly," Gifford assented. Still their host looked anything but satisfied. "Yes, sir, that's quite right; all the same, we are beginning not to like the look of it. It is very mysterious." "It is, Mr. Dipper, to say the least of it," Kelson | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050954 | replied. "Still from such opinion as we were able to form of Mr. Henshaw I don't think it worth while making much fuss about it. He'll turn up all right and probably call you a fool for your pains." "I would not worry about it if I were you," Gifford said quietly. As they turned to go upstairs a telegraph | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050955 | boy came in and handed his message to the landlord, who read it and handed it to Kelson. "Please wire me without fail directly Mr. Henshaw returns. Gervase Henshaw, , Stone Court, Temple, London," Kelson read. "That's his brother," Gifford observed. "All right," said Kelson. "Let him worry if he likes. All you have to do, Mr. Dipper, is what | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050956 | he asks you there." He went upstairs with Gifford, leaving the landlord reperusing the telegram, his plump face dark with misgiving. THE LOCKED ROOM That night the missing man did not return, nor was anything heard of him. The morning brought no news, and even Kelson began to think there might be something serious in it. "If it was anybody | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050957 | but that man," he said casually over a hearty breakfast, "I should say it would be worth while taking steps to find out what had become of him. But that fellow can take care of himself; and when you come to think of it, his coming down here, an outsider, to the ball, was in itself rather fishy." Gifford agreed, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050958 | and they fell to discussing the day's plans. Kelson was going to drive over to have the momentous interview with Miss Tredworth's father. He anticipated no difficulty there; still, as he said, "The thing has got to be done, and the sooner it is over the better." "Why not go to-morrow?" Gifford suggested. "There will be rather a rush to-day." | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050959 | Kelson, a man of action, scoffed at the idea. "Oh, no; Muriel and Charlie are coming over to Wynford to luncheon. I shall simply get the thing settled and drive back with them." So it was arranged. Gifford spent the morning in a stroll about the familiar neighbourhood, and when luncheon time came they all met at Wynford Place. Miss | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050960 | Morriston was not present. Her brother apologized for her absence, saying she had been obliged to keep an engagement to lunch with a friend, but that she had promised to return quite early in the afternoon. Mr. Piercy, the antiquarian, proved to be by no means as dry as his pursuit suggested. He was a lively little man with a | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050961 | fund of interesting stories furnished by the lighter side of his work, and altogether the luncheon was quite amusing. When it was over Morriston suggested that, not to waste the daylight, they should begin their tour of the house; he called upon Gifford to share the duties of guidance, and the party moved off. "Hope you haven't been bored all | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050962 | the morning, Hugh," Kelson said to his friend as they found themselves side by side. "Any news at the _Lion_? Has Henshaw turned up yet?" Gifford shook his head. "No. Host Dipper has had another telegram of inquiry from the brother, but had nothing to tell him in return." Kelson's face became grave. "It really does begin to look serious," | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050963 | he remarked. "Yes; Dipper has been interviewing the police on the subject." "Has he? Well, I only hope Henshaw has not been playing the fool, or worse, and caused all this fuss for nothing." The party moved on to the great hall where the dancing had taken place, and so to the passage connecting the main building with the ancient | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050964 | tower. "Now this is the part which will no doubt interest you most, Mr. Piercy," Morriston said; "this fourteenth century tower, which is to-day in a really wonderful state of preservation." "Ah, yes," the archaeologist murmured; "they could build in those days." They examined the two lower rooms on the ground and first floors, remarked on the thickness of the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050965 | walls, shown by the depth of the window embrasures, which in older days had been put to sterner purposes; they admired the solid strength of the ties and hammer-beams in the roofs, and scrutinized the few articles of ancient furniture and tapestry the rooms contained, and the massive oaken iron-bound door which admitted to the garden. "Now we will go | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050966 | up to the top room," Morriston proposed. "It is used only for lumber, but there is quite a good view from it." He preceded the rest of the party up the winding stairs to the topmost door. "Hullo!" he exclaimed, pushing at it, "the door is locked. And the key appears to have been taken away," he added, bending down | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050967 | and feeling about in the imperfect light. The whole party was consequently held up on the narrow stairs. "I'll go and ask what has become of the key," Morriston said, making his way past them. In a minute he returned, presently followed by the butler. "How is it that this top door is locked, Stent?" he asked. "And where is | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050968 | the key?" "I don't know, sir. Alfred mentioned this morning that the door was locked and the key taken away; we thought you must have locked it, sir." "I? No, I've not been up here since the morning of the ball, when I had those old things brought up from the lower room to be out of the way." "Did | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050969 | you lock the door then, sir?" "No. Why should I? I am certain I did not. Perhaps one of the men did. Just go and inquire. And have the key looked for." "Very good, sir." "This is rather provoking," Morriston said, as they waited. "I particularly wanted to show you the view, which should be lovely on a clear day | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050970 | like this. If we have to wait much longer the light will be going. Besides, it is quite a quaint old room with a curious recess formed by the bartizan you may have noticed from outside." Presently the butler returned accompanied by a footman with several keys. "We can't find the right key, sir," he announced. "No one seems to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050971 | have seen it. Alfred has brought a few like it, thinking one might possibly fit." None of them, however, would go into the lock, not even the smallest of them. "I can't make it out, sir," said the man, kneeling to get more effectively to work. But no key would enter. The footman at last took a box of matches | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050972 | from his pocket, struck a light and, holding it to the key-hole, peered in. "Why, the key is in the lock, on the other side, sir," he said in astonishment. "Then the door can't be locked," Morriston said, pushing it. The footman rose and pushed too, but the door showed no sign of yielding; it was fastened sure enough. "This | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050973 | is strange," Morriston said. "Hi! Is any one in there?" he shouted; but no response came. "Are you sure the key is in the door on the inside?" he asked. "Certain, sir. Will you look for yourself, sir?" the man replied, striking another match and holding it so that his master could convince himself. "No doubt about that," Morriston declared, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050974 | as he rose from his scrutiny. "It is the most extraordinary thing I have ever known. Can you account for it, Stent?" The butler shook his head. "No, sir. Unless someone is in there now." Morriston again shouted, but no answer came. "I presume there is no way out of the room but this door," Piercy asked. "None," Morriston answered; | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050975 | "except the window, and that is, I should say, quite eighty feet from the ground; eh, Mr. Gifford?" "A sheer drop of quite that distance," he answered. "A prohibitive mode of exit," Piercy observed with a smile. "Yes," Morriston said. "I can't understand it at all. Besides, who would be likely to want to play tricks here? We have had | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050976 | no sign of burglars, and in any case they would hardly have been able to bring a ladder long enough to reach up to that window. Well, we must have the mystery cleared up. I think, Stent, you had better send one of the men on a bicycle into Branchester to fetch a locksmith and have the door opened somehow. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050977 | Have it explained to him that it may be a tough job. In the meantime we may as well go and view the tower from the outside, as we can't get in." Accordingly the whole party went down into the hall and so out to the garden, where they strolled round the house, Piercy meanwhile taking notes of its architectural | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050978 | features. As they came to the tower the rays of a late winter sun were striking it almost horizontally, lighting it up in a picturesque glow. Piercy, with his archaeological knowledge, was able to tell the owner and Gifford a good deal about the ancient structure of which they had previously been ignorant. "The sunset would have been worth seeing | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050979 | from that top window," Morriston said, evidently perplexed and annoyed over the mystery of the locked door. "I can't make out what has happened." "The person who locked the door assuredly did not make his exit by the window," Kelson remarked with a laugh, as he looked up at the sheer surface of the upper wall; "unless he was bent | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050980 | on suicide, in which case we should have found what was left of him at the foot of the tower." As they went on round the house, Miss Morriston was seen coming up the drive. Her brother hurried forward to meet her. "I say, Edith," he exclaimed, "we are in a great fix. Can you explain how the door of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050981 | the top room in the tower comes to be locked with the key inside?" Miss Morriston looked surprised. "What, Dick?" "We can't get in," Morriston explained. "We found the door locked and the key missing, and then when Alfred tried another key, he found the right one was in the lock but inside the room." Miss Morriston thought a moment. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050982 | "My dear Dick, the door can't be locked." "It is, I tell you," he returned; "most certainly locked. We have tried it and found it quite fast." "Then there must be someone in the room," his sister said. "That," Morriston replied, "seems the only possible explanation. But I shouted several times and got no answer." "Someone playing you a trick," | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050983 | and the girl laughed. "But who? who?" he returned. His sister gave a shrug. "Oh, you'll find out soon enough," she replied, with a smile. "I shall," he replied, as two men appeared making for the servants' entrance. "Here comes Henry with the locksmith." Miss Morriston in her stately way looked amused. "My dear old Dick, you have been making | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050984 | a fuss about it. You will probably find the door open when you go up." "And I'll know who has been playing this stupid trick," Morriston said wrathfully. "A footman making love to a housemaid turned the key in a panic at being trapped," Kelson said to his host. "I dare say," Morriston replied with a laugh of ill-humour. "And | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050985 | he'll have to pay for his impudence." That explanation by its feasibility was generally accepted as the simple solution of the mystery. "Come along!" Morriston called. "We'll all go up, and see whether the door is open or not. We shall just be in time to catch the sunset." He led the way through the hall and the corridor beyond | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050986 | and so up the winding stairs. "What, not open yet?" he exclaimed as the last turn showed the workman busy at the lock. "Well, this is extraordinary." The locksmith was kneeling and working at the door, while the footman stood over him holding a candle. "The key is in the lock, inside, isn't it?" Morriston asked. "Yes, sir," the man | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050987 | answered. "There is no doubt about that." "How do you account for it?" The man looked up from his task and shook his head. "Can't account for it, sir. Unless so be as there is someone inside." "Can you open it?" "Yes, sir. I'll have it turned in a minute." He took from his bag a long pair of hollow | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050988 | pliers which he inserted in the lock and then screwed tightly, clutching the end of the key. Then fitting a transverse rod to the pliers and using it as a lever he carefully forced the key round, and so shot back the lock. There was a short pause while the man unscrewed his instrument; then he stepped back and pushed | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050989 | open the door. Morriston went in quickly. "There is the key, sure enough," he said, looking round at the inside of the door. He took a couple of steps farther into the room, only to utter an exclamation of intense surprise and horror; then turned quickly with an almost scared face. "Go back!" he cried hoarsely, holding up his hands | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050990 | with an arresting gesture. "Kelson, Mr. Gifford, come here a moment and shut the door. Look!" he said in a breathless whisper, pointing to the floor beneath the window through which the deep orange light of the declining sun was streaming. An exclamation came from Kelson as he saw the object which Morriston indicated, and he turned with a stupefied | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050991 | look to Gifford. "My--!" Gifford's teeth were set and he fell a step backward as though in repulsion. On the floor between the window and an old oak table which had practically hidden it from the doorway, lay the body of a man in evening clothes, one side of his shirt-front stained a dark colour. Although the face lay in | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050992 | the shadow of the high window-sill, there was no mistaking the man's identity. "Henshaw!" Kelson gasped. THE MYSTERY OF CLEMENT HENSHAW It was the missing man, Henshaw, sure enough. The swarthy hue of his face had in death turned almost to black, but the features, together with the man's big, muscular figure were unmistakable. For some moments the three men | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050993 | stood looking at the body in something like bewilderment, scarcely realizing that so terrible a tragedy had been enacted in that place, amid those surroundings. "Suicide?" Kelson was the first to break the silence. "Must have been," Morriston responded "or how could the door have been locked from the inside. I will send at once for the police, and we | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050994 | must have a doctor, although that is obviously useless." He went to the door, then turned. "Will you stay here or--" Kelson made an irresolute movement as though wavering between the implied invitation to quit the room and an inclination not to run away from the grim business. He glanced at Gifford, who showed no sign of moving. "Just as | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050995 | you like," he replied in a hushed voice. "Perhaps we had better stay here till you come back." "All right," Morriston assented. "Don't let any one come in, and I suppose we ought not to move anything in the room till the police have seen it." He went out, closing the door. "I can't make this out, Hugh," Kelson said, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050996 | pulling himself together and moving to the opposite side of the room. "No," Gifford responded mechanically. "He," Kelson continued, "certainly did not give one the idea of a man who had come down here to make away with himself." "On the contrary," his friend murmured in the same preoccupied tone. "What do you think? How can you account for it?" | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050997 | Kelson demanded, as appealing to the other's greater knowledge of the world. It seemed to be with an effort that Gifford released himself from the fascination that held his gaze to the tragedy. "It is an absolute mystery," he replied, moving to where his friend stood. "A woman in it?" For a moment Gifford did not answer. Then he said, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050998 | "No doubt about it, I should imagine." "It's awful," Kelson said, driven, perhaps for the first time in his life, from his habitually casual way of regarding serious things, and maybe roused by Gifford's apathy. "We didn't like--the man did not appeal to us; but to die like this. It's horrible. And I dare say it happened while the dance | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000050999 | was in full swing down there. Why, man, Muriel and I were in the room below. I proposed to her there. And all the time this was just above us." "It is horrible; one doesn't like to think of it," Gifford said reticently. "I cannot understand it," Kelson went on, with a sharp gesture of perplexity. "I can imagine some | 60 | gutenberg |
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