CHAPTER XXII
WHOSE WAS THE WRITING?
After being practically dismissed from his father's sick-room Laurencewent in search of Lena, whom he found in the garden with Mrs. Knox. Thegood lady had fallen off into a convenient doze in a comfortabledeck-chair, so her niece welcomed the new-comer's arrival with pleasure.
"Let us come for a little stroll," suggested the girl. Needless to say,Laurence gladly concurred.
"Well," Lena began, "I am dying to hear if the Squire said anything toyou--anything of importance, I mean, of course."
"Yes, he did. He satisfied me upon one point, concerning which I wasmuch troubled. His inviolate secret has nothing to do with my mother, asI feared--though I did not mention it to you--that it might. Onediscovery of importance I have made. That is, though he didn't say it inso many words, he made it very evident to me that he had at some periodor other been in India."
"Ah, then you still think that Mr. Meadows is responsible for theseattacks on his life?"
"Oh, no, I don't go so far as that," was Laurence's reply; "but I arguethus. According to your friend, the person who presumably set fire tothe Marquis's house was of black complexion; but whereas we believedthat it must be a woman, because it wore garments like skirts, we nowlearn on Meadows' authority that it was a man--a man in coloured skirts.We therefore naturally concluded it must be some foreigner. Now I cometo think of it, the face of the highwayman on the moor gave me theimpression of being remarkably dark. The agility he displayed in thebarn was further proof of his being semi-civilised, for you know thatmany of the coloured races can boast of agility that with us would seemnothing short of marvellous. Then we learn from Doctor Meadows that manyyears ago he knew my father--apparently intimately. One of the mostnoticeable features of Durley Dene is, you will agree, the Orientalfittings of the only room into which we have been shown. The conclusionone naturally draws is that Meadows has travelled, or more likely lived,in Oriental countries. Putting two and two together, I deemed itpossible that Meadows might have made my father's acquaintance whenabroad. Now, you will recollect my telling you that, on the occasion ofmy first visit to the Dene, Meadows mentioned that he once knew a MajorCarrington at Madras. Nevertheless, when he learned that my father wasnot a soldier, he distinctly said he could not have ever met the Squire.On the other occasion he equally distinctly stated that he had known myfather before. He was, as you will remember, even able to describe hisappearance. What does all this lead you to presume--to deduct, as ourfriend Potter would say?"
"I must confess that I am stupid enough not to see what you are drivingat, in spite of your lucid reasoning," replied Lena.
"Why, this, that Major Carrington, of Madras, and Squire Carrington, ofthe Manse, Northden, are not merely namesakes, but one and the sameperson!"
"Good gracious me!" exclaimed Lena. "You clever boy! And you mean to saythat the Squire is an army man, and yet not even his son knows it?"
"That is so, according to reasoning in which I can see no flaw, atpresent. I asked him just now whether he had ever been in India, and, ifso, whether he had met a certain Major Carrington at Madras."
"Yes, and what did he say?"
"He could not answer. He was plainly terrified by the question, andwithout further parley dismissed me on the ground that I was tiring himby conversation. No; of this I am confident, there's something very deepand mysterious about the whole business. One thing has been bothering mea good deal. Were we right in making that promise to Doctor Meadows? Ishe really unconnected with our mystery, as he would try to make out?Does it not seem most improbable that there should be two men withclosely guarded secrets occupying houses adjoining one another in apeaceful little country village? Yet there was something so sincereabout the way in which he spoke that one could not help believing him.Now, in the recent conversation I had with my father, he told me thatthe only person who ever knew anything about his secret (except, ofcourse, the creature who is responsible for the attempt on his life) isdead. Yet Meadows claims a knowledge of that secret. One of the two isnot adhering to the truth. Naturally, I am inclined to think thatMeadows is this one, though I confess it appears possible that my fathermight not be too careful about speaking the whole truth if he feared byso doing to place in my hand a clue to the revelation of his secret.But, supposing that Meadows' knowledge of my father is not of such akind as he would lead us to believe it to be, have we not, perhaps,acted unwisely in confiding in him to so great an extent? And thediscovery that the servant's real name is Horncastle; what do you makeof that?"
"I feel very much inclined," replied Lena, "to think that he is whatKingsford calls 'the' Horncastle, the man who was sent to prison fordaring robbery about a year ago, and who escaped from Dartmoor six oreight months since. Oh, to think that you were in the clutches of such acreature, Laurence, and that you were practically alone with him in thatdark house! Why, didn't they say that he was suspected of some murderout at Swiss Cottage? Yes, I'm sure they did. But what can he be doingin Durley Dene? Is he in hiding there? If so, perhaps that is the secretof the house. But it cannot be. There is something far deeper than thatin the mystery of Durley Dene."
"I can easily prove that that is but a part of the mystery," saidLaurence. "You remember how Horncastle said to me when I threatened toreport him, 'Do you think I care whether you tell the doctor? He'snothing to me.' Well, to my mind, that remark implies that, instead offearing his master (if he is actually such), he has the whip hand ofMeadows. Why? Because he alone knows the doctor's mysterious secret. Herealises, of course, that the master of Durley Dene dares not expose himor hand him over to justice as an escaped convict for fear thatHorncastle, in his turn, will reveal to the world his secret, which,according to Meadows himself, would electrify the world and prove one ofthe greatest sensations of the day. Thus we now know why Horncastlewears a woman's disguise when walking abroad, because, were he not to doso, he might be identified by anyone who had seen his portrait, copiesof which were posted outside every police-station in the kingdom, with anotice to the effect that anyone apprehending Thomas Horncastle orgiving such evidence as shall lead to his apprehension will be amplyrewarded!"
"Really, Laurence," said his companion gaily, "you're quite smart. Weare, I am certain, at any rate well started in our investigation of thismaze of mysteries. But what have we here?"
The last remark was caused by the fluttering of a scrap of white paper,on which Lena's eye chanced as the young pair strolled down a pathbounded on one side by the palisade dividing the garden from that ofDurley Dene.
It has already been mentioned that, in addition to this palisade,numerous bushes of stunted growth formed a substantial barrier betweenthe grounds of the adjoining estates. It was on a prickly evergreen thatthe scrap of paper, to which the girl's attention had been drawn by itsfluttering in the soft breeze, was impaled.
"Surely not another message from our neighbour?" queried Laurence, witha smile.
"Not exactly," replied Lena, "but something belonging to Mr. Meadows,under his military alias, for all that."
"Indeed!" Laurence bent over the scrap of paper, which the girl now heldout for him.
It was the left-hand portion of a torn envelope. In fact it was entire,save that the part bearing the stamp and the last few letters of eachline of the address were missing. Such of it as there was bore thefollowing address, written in a firm lady-like handwriting--undoubtedlythe work of an educated woman--
"Major Farnell-Jo.... "Durley Den.... "Northd.... "Yorksh.... "England."
"So the worthy Major has lady correspondents who address him by hispseudonym and write from abroad," remarked Lena.
"It's undoubtedly in a lady's handwriting," replied Laurence, "but howdo you know it comes from abroad? The envelope is a thick one."
"That's simple enough. If the person who addressed that envelope haddone so from England she would have been hardly likely to write'England' at the foot of the address. Of course, in using the word'abroad,' I include in this ca
se Scotland and Ireland."
"I see. But surely that handwriting is familiar to me. Don't you knowit? No? Well, I'm certain that I do. The peculiar formation of the 'J's'and 'Y's,' and the flourishing stroke to the 'N' of Northden, I knowperfectly. Where have I seen that writing before?"
But, strive as he might, he could not recall whose it was.
The House of Strange Secrets: A Detective Story Page 22
