CHAPTER XXI
To go back for a space to Berrington. Heedless of his promise, he hadburst headlong into the dining-room whence the cry came. He hadforgotten altogether about Field. The fact half crossed his mind thatnobody knew of the presence of the inspector in the house, so thatanyway the latter's personal safety was not jeopardized.
It had been a foolish thing to do, as Berrington realised almost as soonas his mind cleared. He had been somewhat badly mauled in thepreliminaries, and now it seemed to him that he was a prisoner in thehands of these people. The only consolation that was left to him was thefact that Field would come to his rescue in good time.
But Berrington was by no means done for yet. To begin with, there wasnot the slightest trace of fear in his heart. He had been in too manytight places before to have any emotion of that kind. He fell backagainst the wall, panting for breath; he looked around him again forsome avenue of escape, but he could see none.
It was a curious scene, altogether, the elegantly furnished room, thelitter of glasses and china and crystal in one corner, the mysteriousoutlined figure on the table. The glare of electric lights shone on thefaces of the men there, on the impudent features of the woman who hadposed as the Countess de la Moray, and on the pale, supplicating faceof Mary Sartoris. For a little time nobody said anything.
It was Mary Sartoris who was the first to speak. She crossed over to herbrother and held out her hand with a gesture of passionate supplication.
"It is all a mistake," she cried. "Colonel Berrington is under amisapprehension. He imagines that something wrong is taking place here;he has acted on the spur of the moment. He did not come to the house tosee anybody but me."
Sartoris grinned in evil fashion. Just for the moment he looked halfconvinced.
"He comes in strange fashion," he said. "All the same, I have not theleast doubt of the value of Colonel Berrington's friendship so far asyou are concerned. But that is not the point. Did you admit your friendColonel Berrington to the house?"
For the fraction of a second a bold lie trembled on Mary's lips. But shecould not utter it. She looked down in confusion, and her face trembled.Sartoris grinned in the same wicked fashion. A black rage was rising inhis heart.
"Good girl," he sneered. "Always tell the truth. It is the proper thingto do, and it will bring its own reward in the end. Only it is attendedwith personal inconvenience at times, such as the present, for instance.How did Colonel Berrington get here?"
"I will save your sister the trouble of replying," Berrington cried. "Icame here, acting on certain information that had come to my knowledge.I came here to discover if I could learn some facts bearing on thedisappearance of Sir Charles Darryll's body. And I am not disposed tothink that my efforts are altogether in vain."
It was a bold speech and not without its effect. The woman called Coraturned a shade paler, and the clean-shaven man by her side winced. Theonly one who seemed disposed to a mild course of policy was Bentwood.
"For heaven's sake don't let us have any violence," he said hoarsely."There has been too much of that already. I mean there is no necessityfor anything of the kind. If Colonel Berrington knows anything of any ofus----"
"I know everything," Berrington replied. It seemed to him that a boldcourse of action was the best to be taken under the circumstances. "Forinstance, I have a pretty accurate knowledge of the checkered past ofDr. Bentwood and the malignant scoundrel who calls himself CarlSartoris. Of Miss Mary Sartoris I will say nothing. There are othershere, too, whose past is not altogether wrapped in mystery. There areGeneral Gastang and Countess de la Moray, for instance. And once I amoutside these walls----"
Sartoris pushed his chair close to the speaker. He was seething withpassionate rage, his face was livid with anger. For the moment he coulddo nothing; he only thirsted for the blood of the bold Berrington.
"You are not outside these walls," he said. "You are not likely to beoutside these walls for some time to come. You have described us inlanguage that you have spared no trouble to render abusive. You know toomuch. And we have our own way here of dealing with enemies of ours whoknow too much."
There was no mistaking the dreadful threat that underlay the hoarsespeech. There was underground murder in the eyes of Sartoris. Berringtonsmiled scornfully.
"I know exactly what you mean," he said; "indeed, I know more than yougive me credit for. And I will make my suspicions certainties."
Berrington advanced swiftly to the table and laid a hand on the sheetthat covered the still, silent form there. Another instant, and thewhole mystery would have been exposed. But Sartoris propelled his chairforward and grabbed Berrington by the arm.
"You cowards," he yelled. "If I were not cursed by these crippled bonesof mine, I would have plucked that fellow's heart from his body. Don'tstand there like a lot of mummies. Pull him back, I say, pull him back."
The harsh, ringing command seemed to restore the other listeners to asense of what they owed to themselves. With a cry, the man called Reggiewas on Berrington, though Mary Sartoris had fallen and clasped himaround the knees. With an oath, Bentwood darted forward and flunghimself upon Berrington's shoulders. The struggle was a hot one, for theColonel fought well, but the odds were too many for him, and he wasborne at length heavily to the ground. His head came in contact with thefloor, and he lay there just a minute dazed and giddy.
He had failed, too, which was the most humiliating part of the business.He had, at any cost, resolved to make assurance doubly sure. He couldsee the grinning triumph on the face of Sartoris, as he scrambled to hisfeet; he could see the tears in Mary's eyes. For the personal danger tohimself he cared nothing.
"Let's make an end of it," Sartoris cried. "He's too dangerous to live.Let us make an end of him. Dead men tell no tales."
"No, no," Mary cried. "You shall not do it. No, no."
"Then go and fetch the police," Sartoris said with a little laugh."Fetch them in, I say. Let them come here and investigate, and afterthat you can stand in the dock and give evidence against your ownbrother. My child, you are free to depart as soon as you like. Go now!"
Mary Sartoris stood there trembling and hesitating. Sartoris wheeledhis chair rapidly and dexterously across to her, and then raised hisfist in a threatening manner. For a moment it seemed as if he meant tostrike the girl.
"Go now!" He repeated his command harshly. "Go at once! Go out of myhouse and never come back again, you white-faced mewling cat. Pah, youdare not do anything. You are not to stay in the room. Go!"
The girl seemed dazed and unable to exercise her own will. She creptwith faltering steps to the door. As she was going out, she turned aneye of affection on Berrington.
"If you will only promise me that there will be no violence," she said,"I----"
"I promise that," Bentwood said in a cringing voice. He was the only manthere who seemed to be restless and uneasy and anxious. "There is goingto be no violence so long as I am here. Why should there be any violenceat all?"
The man asked the question with an eye on Berrington. For some reasonor other he seemed very desirous of pleasing the soldier, and yet notoffending his comrades. Sartoris laughed.
"Cautious man," he said. "Always be on the safe side. Hang the girl, isshe going to stay here all night? Go, I tell you; take your white facefrom me. Go."
The door closed behind Mary Sartoris, and something like a sob came fromthe hall. With a sudden fury and new strength Berrington darted to thetable again. Once more he might have been successful, but the keen eyeof Sartoris was upon him; the cripple seemed to read his thoughts. Likea flash the invalid chair caught Berrington on the shin, and sent himsprawling across the floor; the chair sped on and there was a suddenclick and the room was in darkness. Berrington had a quick mentalpicture of where different objects were--and he made a dash for theswitch. Some great force seemed to grip him by the hands, he waspowerless to move; he heard what seemed to him to be the swing and joltof machinery. Somebody was laughing much as if a funny play was beingpe
rformed before delighted eyes, with Berrington for the third man ofthe company, and then the light came up again.
Angry and baffled and disappointed as Berrington was, all these feelingsgave way to amazement as he looked around the room. Every sign of a bodyhad disappeared, the room was empty save for Sartoris, who sat smoking acigarette, with a sardonic smile on his face. All the others had gone,and the body was gone from the table; on the latter was a dark crimsoncloth surmounted by a mass of flowers arranged tastefully around anelectric stand. Sartoris laughed in an easy, mocking way.
"Miracles whilst you wait," he said. "I just press a button and thereyou are. You say that you saw a lot of people here and some object onthe table. You would swear to that?"
"Being in full possession of my faculties, I would," Berrington saidgrimly.
"And where are they? There was no lady, there were no people, only myhumble, sweet self always glad to see my distinguished friend ColonelBerrington."
Berrington made no reply for a moment. It seemed hopeless to try to copewith the little fiend who appeared to have all the powers of hell behindhim. He looked down at the floor as if to find evidence of magic there,but the pattern of the turkey carpet was intact, the big brass-headednails were in the corners and along the fireplace.
"'There are more things in Heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt ofin your philosophy,'" Sartoris quoted. "As a rule your soldier is a dullman and not gifted with much imagination. And so you have taken thismatter up on the principle that Satan finds some mischief still for idlehands to do. You see that I am in a mood to quote to-night. But on thewhole you are not what the world calls a bad fellow. On the contrary, I_am_. And that being the case, and as I am not supposed to be in theleast scrupulous in my methods, it stands to reason that I am likely toget the better of you. Now you are a man of honour, and if you give yourword it is as good as your bond. Give me your word that not onesuggestion of what has taken place here to-night shall be spoken, andyou are free to go."
Berrington laughed as he looked around him.
"Who is going to stop me?" he asked. "You seem to be sure of yourground. If you were not a cripple I would give you the most perfectspecimen of a thrashing that you ever had in your life. My word will bepassed to worthier stuff than you."
"So you are going to take advantage of my weakness and walk out of thehouse?" Sartoris asked.
"That is part of the programme," Berrington said. "I feel perfectly surethat a bold front would dismay your friends. I wish you good night."
The Slave of Silence Page 21
