Till the Clock Stops

by J. J. Bell

  CHAPTER XVII

  The night was fine but still very dark. An hour or so hence the moon atits full would make many things visible, and chiefly for that reason butalso because he desired to return to London the same night, Bullard withhis unsavoury companion, had arrived thus early at the gates of GreyHouse. Yet now it looked as though his programme would have to beabandoned, or, at any rate, drastically altered. For the house, as wasplain to see, was occupied. There was no great display of lights, but aruddy glow shone through the glazed inner door, and a thin white shaftfell from a slit between the drawn curtains of the familiar upper room.

  "Caw taking a look round, no doubt," remarked Bullard, recovering fromhis first annoyance. "Wonder where the beggar has his lodgings and howlong he is likely to hang about.

  "Is the game up, mister?" asked the man at his elbow. "Cause if so,I'll just remind ye that I got to get paid, results or no results. Yebrought me here to open a door for ye, and 'tisn't my fault if thedoor's open already."

  "Shut up till I've thought a bit." After a pause, Bullard began: "Payattention, Flitch--"

  "Not that name, damn ye!"

  "Idiot, then. I was going to say that I could have done with an hour ortwo in that house, but that a couple of minutes would be better thannothing--"

  "Couple o' minutes? That's easy--if ye don't mind a little risk."

  "I'm used to risks," said Bullard, shifting the Green Box to his otherarm. "But it is vital that I go in and out without being seen."

  "Can't guarantee anything in this blasted rotten world," said Flitch,"but I think I can do the trick for you."

  "How?"

  "By bringin' whoever's in the house out at the back door while you slipsin at the front."

  "Do you mean that you will knock at the back--"

  "Cheese it, mister! It's your turn to listen now. I've got in my pockethere a couple o' useful little articles which I never travels withoutwhen engaged on a job o' this sort--as I was pretty sure it was goin' tobe. Them little articles is noisy, but ye can't have everything, even inHeaven, and as things has turned out now, they're just _it_." Mr. Flitch,at last in his element, paused to chuckle hoarsely.

  "Oh, hurry up. You're talking of explosives."

  "Go up one! Well, now, mister, suppose I sneaks up round to the backpremises and fixes the pretty things all serene and comfortable to one ofthe outhouses, then lights the fuses and retires. In a littlewhile--bang! bang! What price that for fetchin' yer friend out at theback door just to see if something hasn't maybe dropped off theclothes-line?"

  "I believe you've hit it," said Bullard after consideration. "How long dothe fuses burn?"

  "Two minutes to a sec. The moment I've seen 'em go off proper I'll comeback and wait for ye here, unless there's a chase, when I'll bolt for thecar. Meanwhile you'll ha' crept up to near the house, ready to do yer bitas soon's ye hear yer friend movin'. It's chancey of course, but that'sthe sort o' trade it is. Better take this"--Flitch brought something fromhis breast-pocket--"in case the key's turned in that front door."

  "Thanks; I've got one. Now say it all again so that we have nomisunderstandings."

  A few minutes later Bullard was crouching at the side of the steps beyondreach of the rosy light, his nerves taut, his whole being waiting for thesignal. Smartly it came, and the stillness of the winter night wasshattered.... Again!

  The sound of some one running downstairs reached his ears; next it camefrom the oak-floored hall, diminishing; then a door--possibly one with aspring--went shut with a smash. Silence for a brief space, then noisefrom the back of the house. It was now or never.

  Up the steps he bounded, yet halted to clean his boots on the mat. Atthat moment he thought he heard a cry, but nothing could stay him now.The shining tool in his clutch was unnecessary: the handle turned, thedoor opened. He sped across the hall and upstairs. Lights were burning inChristopher's old room; the pendulum of the clock scintillated as itswung. The fire burned cheerfully. There was a smell of Turkish tobacco.A book lay open on the writing table. Bullard noticed all these thingsand for an instant wavered and wondered. Without further pause, however,he placed the Green Box in its old refuge, carefully closed the drawer,and rose to go. Just for a moment the clock held him. Then he shook hisfist at it and bolted. Closing the front door noiselessly after him, hewent softly down the steps and across the gravel till he stepped upon thegrass border, when he made swiftly, recklessly, for the gates.

  A yard from them he all but fell over Flitch. That gentleman was lyingface downwards, in a perfect agony of terror, scrabbling the gravel,mumbling to the Almighty to save him.

  Bullard shook him, whispering savagely: "Get up, you fool! It's allright; we've done the trick--"

  "O God, don't let his ghost get me! He was the first I ever killed, OGod, and I wanted the money bad--"

  "Curse you, Flitch! What the devil's the matter? If you won't come now, Imust leave you to get caught--and that's the end of _you_!" Bullardgripped him by the collar and dragged him to his knees.

  And now Caw's voice was heard calling: "Mr. Alan, Mr. Alan, wait till Iget another lamp."

  At that on Bullard's face the sweat broke thickly. With a gasp he letFlitch drop like a heavy sack, and started to run.

  Not far beyond the gates Flitch overtook him.

  Between thick sobs Flitch was moaning: "I heard his voice. 'Twas clearand strong. He's alive! ... I didn't kill him after all. Oh, God, I'mthat thankful. I heard his voice. He's alive...."

  Bullard swung his hand backwards and smote the babbling mouth. "Idiot! Doyou think there's no punishment for attempted murder?"

  "I'll confess--I'll confess to himself--and he'll forgive--"

  "Will you! Is attempted murder your only crime? Shut your crazy mouthnow, or it will be the worse for you."

  And so, panting with exertion and passion, the fearful twain came to thecar hidden in the wood. But Bullard was already recovering.

  * * * * *

  "No damage that I can see, except to the door of the garage," said Caw atlast. "The car's all right."

  "We'd better take a turn round the house," answered Alan, "though it's asearch-light that's wanted tonight."

  "Be careful, sir!"

  "Oh, nonsense! Whoever it was has cleared out long ago." He moved off inadvance, and was turning the corner, flashing his torch into theshrubbery, when a pale figure flew out of the darkness.

  "You're safe!" cried a voice in tones of supreme relief. "Oh, but I wasterrified for you!"

  "Miss Handyside!" A flash had shown him a white-face, wide eyes, partedlips--also a hand gripping a pretty revolver. His finger left theelectric button. Impulsively he softly exclaimed: "Does it matter to you,my safety?"

  Darkness and a hush for the space of a long breath, and somethinghappened to those two young people. Then Caw joined them.

  "What was it?" the girl enquired, almost coldly. "We heard shots, and Iran through the passage--father is following--and I came out by the frontdoor, and--"

  "Weren't you afraid, miss?" Caw asked on a note of admiration.

  "Yes, but--" she halted.

  "The only thing that has happened, Miss Handyside, so far as we havediscovered, is that some ass has been setting off fireworks against thegarage door," said Alan. "Anyway, we can't do anything to-night. Let's goin and find Dr. Handyside. He'll be horribly anxious about you."

  "There will be a moon shortly," Caw remarked, "and I'll take a look roundthen, Mr. Alan."

  "Right! Let us have something hot--coffee and so on--upstairs."

  "Very good, sir. Your pardon, miss, but that nice pistol--"

  "Oh, _would_ you take it away from me, Caw?" she sighed. "Keep it till Iask for it."

  "Thank you, miss." Caw received the little weapon.

  It was, of course, utterly absurd, but at the moment Alan felt annoyedwith his servant.

  They found the doctor starting to negotiate the stair.

  "Ah," he cried, "glad to see you! What
the dickens are your friendsafter this time, Alan? Stealing your coals for a change?" He laughed,but one could have seen that he was immensely relieved by the sight ofhis daughter.

  Together they spent a couple of hours in the study and discussed a dozentheories. Perhaps Alan had least to say for himself. He was inclined tobe absent-minded. On the other hand, he discovered, after a while, thathe was disposed to look rather too frequently in the direction of hisgirl guest. Left to himself, he became aware that his plan for theimmediate future was not altogether satisfactory. It was too late now toask Teddy to delay his already postponed visit, but had that beenfeasible he would have made up his mind to start for London in themorning. Doris was in London, and his desire was towards her--or was itpartly his duty?