I wonder who he is? remarked Booth, as he bent down, and, opening his vest, disclosed the small shot-wound.
I wonder, I echoed, at the same time feeling in my pocket the papers and other objects which no doubt would establish his identity. I longed to return to the house and examine them.
Shot clean through the heart! exclaimed Richards, kneeling upon the carpet of dead leaves and making as thorough an examination as the fickle light afforded. He must have fallen and died almost instantly.
Could it have been suicide? inquired Booth.
I think not. Of course, he might have shot himself, but from the position of the wound I think not. Besides, where is the revolver?
We looked about, but could not discover it, and at the same time Booth constantly urged upon us not to move about lest we might destroy any footmarks that would lead to a clue.
While Booth was searching the dead mans pockets of course finding nothing, Eric noticed a light approaching up the road, and pointed it out.
Thats the govnor on is bike, declared the constable. I left word with my missis to send im up ere. Im glad es come.
We awaited the arrival of the superintendent, a short, elderly, thick-set man in a dark suit, who spoke sharply to his officer, listened to the doctors opinion, and then proceeded to make a methodical examination for himself.
He held the lantern to the dead mans face, and looked for some moments into his features.
No. Hes a perfect stranger to me, the officer declared. Was there nothing in his pockets?
Only some money, sir a shillin or two, answered the village policeman.
On tramp, no doubt, and he examined the palms of both hands, feeling them with his fingers. Not used to hard work clean-shaven, too done it to disguise himself probably. No razor?
No, sir.
Found the revolver?
No, sir.
Not searched yet, I suppose?
No, sir. I waited until you came, to hear your instructions.
Quite right. Youd better move him down to the village, and when its light well search all around. Then, turning to Richards, he added, Therell have to be an inquest, doctor. Shall we fix it for the day after to-morrow, at the Spread Eagle at Midhurst? Will that suit you?
Yes. I can make the post-mortem to-morrow, Richards said, and thus it was arranged.
Its a mystery murder without a doubt, declared the superintendent a few minutes later, while chatting with the doctor. How long has he been dead, do you think?
Eight or nine hours, I should say.
Then it was done about dusk, you think?
Most probably.
He was shot from the front, you notice, not in the back. Therefore, it seems quite evident that some secret meeting took place here before it grew dark. Bear that in mind, Booth, and make every inquiry to find out whether anybody was seen going over the fields.
His lordship and his friends were about the farms a-shootin all day, the constable replied.
Yes, laughed Eric, but we didnt shoot with revolvers, at which we all three laughed.
I admired my friend for his clever sally, for if anyone actually did see him crossing the turnips there would be no suspicion aroused that he had been witness of any meeting.
The police superintendent made a cursory examination of the surroundings by aid of the lantern, but saw nothing that led him to believe that a struggle had taken place; then eager to return and examine those papers I had in my pocket, we both bade the doctor and policeman good-night, and returned across the fields and along the drift skirting the park, scaling the wall, and so reaching the house by a much shorter route than by re-passing the village.
I wonder who was in that thicket, I said, as we walked down the hill, after leaving the scene of the tragedy.
I saw something white, but whether it was a mans shirt-front or a womans blouse I dont know, Eric replied. Whoever it was may tell the police of our visit there, and we may find ourselves in a most awkward position. It wouldnt be nice to be charged with trying to defeat the ends of justice, would it?
No, I said, thinking deeply, and recognising the seriousness of the situation. But how could we have acted otherwise? If we are to save Tibbie we must accept the risk.
Its terrible terrible, he murmured. I wonder who the fellow is?
Lets get back. Come up to my room, and well have a look through what weve found, I said, and then we went on in silence until we managed to reopen the smoking-room window and creep in without attracting the attention of either the dogs or the night-watchman.
Eric mixed two stiff glasses of whisky, and we drank them. I confess that my hand trembled with excitement, while before me as I had walked through the night I saw that staring terror-stricken face the face of the man who had looked into the Unknown and had been appalled.
Together we crept up to my room, first taking off our boots, as in order to reach the wing in which I was placed we had to pass Jacks room, and also that of old Lady Scarcliff, who was, I knew, always nervous of burglars. Besides, we had no desire that it should be known that we had been out at that hour otherwise Sybil might suspect.
Up the Long Gallery we went, past the grim row of armed knights so ghostly in the darkness, past the loudly-ticking old clock, past the deep window-seat wherein Sybil had so nearly betrayed her secret in the sunset hour, and on into my room.
Once within we locked the door, drew the portière to shut out the sound of our voices, and I took from my various pockets all that we had secured from the dead man.
It was a strange collection of papers, letters and various odds and ends, rendered gruesome by the stains of a mans life-blood upon them.
They lay upon the table in the window and I scarce dared to touch them; stolen as they had been from that silent, staring corpse.
I switched on the table-lamp, and we drew chairs eagerly forward, so excited that neither of us spoke.
The first thing I took in my hand was the small circular medallion of gold with the thin chain which I had taken from the dead mans neck. About the size of a penny it was, smooth and polished on either side. I turned it over in wonder, and as I did so noticed that although so thin it was really a locket, one of those which is sometimes worn by ladies upon a long chain.
With trembling fingers I inserted my thumb nail into the slit and prised it open.
Upon one side a small ivory miniature of the Honourable Sybil smiled mockingly at us, and on the other was engraved an inscription.
I put it down and took up a letter folded in half without an envelope, the paper of which was crumpled and blood-stained.
I quickly scanned over what was written there, Eric looking over my shoulder meanwhile.
What I learnt staggered me. It told us the awful truth.
We turned and faced each other, looking into each others eyes without uttering a word.
The problem was, we saw, far more intricate and amazing than we had ever dreamed.
Yes, there, spread before us, was the dead mans secret!
Chapter Five.
Which Puzzles both of us
Holding our breath in our eagerness, we turned over the letters and hastily scanned them through, save where the writing was obliterated by those dark stains.
They were a revelation to us both. They told a story which utterly amazed us.
Within the flat circular locket were engraved the words: From Sybil August 14th, but there was no year. It was a love token which the unknown had worn around his neck, a beautiful miniature signed by one of the most fashionable modern miniaturists.
They were a revelation to us both. They told a story which utterly amazed us.
Within the flat circular locket were engraved the words: From Sybil August 14th, but there was no year. It was a love token which the unknown had worn around his neck, a beautiful miniature signed by one of the most fashionable modern miniaturists.
The letters were, for the most part, in a womans large, rather sprawling hand, which I at once recognised as Sybils, and signed either by her Christian name or by her initials, S.B.
The first we read was written on the notepaper of Hethe Hall, in Cumberland, a country house near Keswick, where she often visited. Undated, it ran:
I do wish, Ralph, you would be more careful. Your actions every day betray the truth, and I fear somebody may suspect. You know how carefully I am watched and how my every action is noted. Every hour I live in dread. Think what exposure would mean to me. I shall walk down to Braithwaite Station to-morrow evening about 5:30. Do not write to me, as I fear Mason may get hold of one of your letters. She is so very curious. If you are free to-morrow evening perhaps I shall meet you accidentally. But I do warn you to be careful for my sake. Till to morrow. S.
What was meant by the truth? Was that ill-dressed, low-born fellow actually her secret lover? The love token showed that such was actually the case. Yet who was he?
Another note, written hurriedly upon a plain sheet of common notepaper, was as follows:
I dont know if I can escape them. If so, I shall try and get hold of one of Masons dresses and hats and meet you in Serle Street, outside Lincolns Inn. But it is very risky. Do be careful that you are not followed.
The next was upon pale green notepaper, bearing in gold the heading, S.Y. Regina, with the added words, Off the Faroe Islands:
I am longing to be back again in town, but it cannot be for another four or five weeks. We have decided to do the Fiords. Do not write, as your letter must go through so many hands before it reaches me. What you tell me makes me suspicious. Why should they ask you that question if there had not been some whisper? Find out. Remember I have enemies very bitter ones. It was hazardous of you to come to Glasgow. I saw you on the quay when we sailed. But you may have been recognised. If so, think of my position. Again I do beg of you to be as cautious as I am. From me the world shall never know the truth. I can keep a secret. See if you cannot do so, for my sake.
Apparently the fellow had preserved all her letters, either because he was so deeply in love with her, or with that ulterior motive of which she had so openly accused him.
Why did you speak to me on the stairs last night? she asked, reproachfully, in another hastily-written note upon plain paper. You imperil me at every moment. You may love me as fervently as you declare you do, but surely you should do nothing that may imperil my good name!
In another, evidently of more recent date, she wrote:
I cannot understand you. Our love has been a very foolish romance. Let us part and agree to forget it. I have been injudicious, and so have you. Let us agree to be friends, and I will, I assure you, do all I can for your interests in the future. Sometimes I think that Mason suspects. She may have seen you speak to me, or overheard you. She looks at me so very strangely sometimes, and Im sure she watches me.
Again in another communication, which was besmirched by the dead mans blood, writing from the Hotel Ritz, in Paris, she said:
We are in deadly peril, both of us but you more especially. E knows the truth. Avoid him. He intends to betray you. I met J in the Bois to-day, and he asked if you were in Paris. I pretended to be ignorant of your very existence, but he told me that E had explained certain things, and he promised to keep my secret. I send you fifty pounds enclosed. Dont acknowledge it. Burn this letter.
The longest, written on thin blue foreign paper, was even more enigmatical. It was dated from her sisters place up in Durham, and read:
You are right when you declared last night that I am very fond of Wilfrid Hughes. It is a pity, perhaps, that I did not marry him three years ago. If I had I should have been spared this awful anxiety and double life that I am now forced to lead. You say that I am giddy and heartless, thoughtless and reckless. Yes. I am all that, I admit. And yet I am only like many women who are seeking to forget. Some take morphia, others drink brandy, and I well, I try and amuse myself as far as my remnant of a conscience will allow me. Ah! when I look back upon my quiet girlhood down at Ryhall I recollect how happy I was, how easily satisfied, how high were my ideals when I loved Wilfrid Hughes. And now? But will you not give me back my freedom? I ask, I beg, I implore of you to give me liberty and save my life. You have always said that you loved me, therefore you surely will not continue this cruel persecution of a woman who is defenceless and powerless. I feel that your heart is too noble, and that when we meet to-morrow you will release me from my bond. Up to the present I have been able to close the lips of your enemies, yet how have you repaid me? But I do not reproach you. No. I only crave humbly at your feet.
The last, written from Ryhall, and dated three days before, was brief but to the point:
If you are absolutely determined that I should see you then, I will keep your appointment. Recollect, however, that I have no fear of you. I have kept my mouth closed until to-day, and it will remain closed unless you compel me to open it. S.
The other papers, of which we made methodical examination, were mysterious and puzzling. Upon a sheet of ruled sermon paper was drawn in red ink a geometrical device the plan of a house we took it to be while another piece of paper was covered with long lists of letters, words and phrases in a masculine but almost microscopic hand, together with their cipher equivalents.
Was this the cipher used by the dead man to communicate with Sybil?
This will assist us, no doubt, remarked Eric, scrutinising it beneath the light. Probably she sent him cipher messages from time to time.
There was also a mans visiting card, bearing the name,
Mr John Parham, Keymer, Sydenham Hill, S.E. As I turned it over I remarked, This also may tell us something. This Mr Parham is perhaps his friend. The card-case was empty, but a couple of pawn tickets for a watch and ring, showing them to be pawned at a shop in the Fulham Road in the name of Green, completed the miscellaneous collection that I had filched from the dead mans pockets, and showed that, at any rate, he had been in want of money, even though he had a few shillings upon him at the time of his death.
To say the least, it was a strange, gruesome collection as it lay spread upon the table. To my chagrin one of the blood-stained letters made an ugly mark upon the long hem-stitched linen toilet-cover.
Eric took up letter after letter, and with knit brows re-read them, although he vouchsafed no remark.
Who was the man? That was the one question which now occupied our minds.
How fortunate weve been able to possess ourselves of these! I remarked. Think, if they had fallen into the hands of the police!
Yes, answered my friend, you acted boldly more boldly than I dare act. I only hope that the person who saw us will not gossip. If he does well, then it will be decidedly awkward.
If he does, then we must put the best face upon matters. He probably didnt see us take anything from the body.