The Sign of the Stranger

by William Le Queux

affair seemedto become. A dozen times I tried by ordinary methods to turn thenumbers into writing, but my calculations only resulted in an unmeaningarray of letters of the alphabet, a chaos quite unintelligible,therefore I was at length compelled to abandon my efforts, and afterexamining the ring and deciding that it was a copy of one of those oldEtruscan rings that I had seen in the British Museum, I reluctantly wentupstairs to snatch an hour's sleep before the dawn.

  My brain was awhirl. Following so quickly the strange declarations ofLolita had come this startling tragedy with all its mysterious andsuspicious features. As I lay awake, listening to the solemn strikingof the hour from the old church tower which told me that daylight wasnot far off, I recollected that Lolita had probably recognised theshabby stranger in the tap-room of the _Stanchester Arms_ as she drovepast. I remembered how he had held back, as though fearing recognition,and also that, as the carriage went by, her head had been half-turned inour direction. If she had detected his presence she had certainly madeno sign, yet it must have been that discovery that had caused her tospeak so strangely and to seek my aid in the manner she had done.

  Warr still had the sealed letter in his possession, therefore the onlyway she could have known of the return of the bluff fellow who calledhimself Richard Keene was by the discovery made by herself.

  I remembered her fierce desperation and her trembling fear; how cold herhands had been, and how wild that look in her beautiful eyes--a huntedlook such as I had never before seen in the eyes of either man or woman.Then suddenly I recollected what damning evidence might remain on thatsoft clay in the hollow where the body had been found. The detectiveswould certainly be able to establish her presence there! I felt that atall risks I must prevent that. I had promised to help her, and althoughthere were dark suspicions within my heart I intended to act loyally asa man should towards the woman he honestly loves. I therefore set myalarm to awaken me in an hour, and just as the grey light was breakingthrough the clouds eastward over Monk's Wood, I rose, dressed myself,and concealing a small garden trowel in my pocket set forth for the spotbefore any of the villagers were astir.

  The morning air was keen and fresh as I hurried up the avenue and withsome trepidation descended into the hollow, fearing lest the report hadalready been spread in the village and that any of the curious yokelsmight notice my presence there.

  But I was alone, and therefore breathed more freely.

  Over an area of fifteen yards or so the grass was beaten down here andthere, and in the cold grey light became revealed the dark stain wherethe victim had fallen--the stain of his life blood.

  I searched around among the grass and over the soft boggy places bare ofherbage, but found no footmarks nor any trace except that of thedowntrodden grass where the struggle had evidently taken place and wherethe unknown man had apparently fought desperately for his life. Aftertwenty minutes or so, fearing lest some labourers early astir might cometo the spot before going to work, I was about to leave when, of asudden, in a place where no grass grew upon the clay, I saw somethingthat held me rigid.

  In the soft earth was the plain imprint of the small sole of a woman'sshoe, with a Louis XV heel!

  Lolita wore high heels of exactly that character, and took three's inshoes. Was it possible that the footprint was hers?

  As I looked I saw others, both of a person advancing and receding. Onewas ill-defined, where she had apparently slipped upon the clay. Butall of them I stamped out--all, indeed, that I could find. Yet was itpossible, I wondered, to efface every one?

  If one single one remained, it might be sufficient to throw suspicionupon her.

  While engaged in this, something white caught my eye lying upon thegrass about ten yards distant. I picked it up and found it to be apiece of white fur about an inch square that had evidently been tornbodily out of a boa or cape--the same fur that had been found betweenthe dead man's fingers.

  This I placed carefully in my cigarette-case and continued my work ofeffacing the damning footprints. There were other marks, of men'sboots, but whether those of the dead man or of our own I could notdecide, so I left them as evidence for the police to investigate.

  My eyes were everywhere to try and discover the weapon with which thefoul deed had been committed, for the assassin, I thought, might havecast it away, but my search was in vain. It had disappeared.

  Fully twenty distinct marks of those small well-shod feet I effaced bystamping upon them or scraping the surface with the trowel, and waspreparing to return and keep the appointment with the doctor when of asudden I saw, lying close behind the trunk of the giant oak, ahalf-smoked cigarette, which on taking up I found to be of the samebrand as those found in the dead man's pocket. He had therefore kept atryst at that spot, and had smoked calmly and unsuspiciously in order towhile away the time.

  Of men's footprints in the soft ground there were a quantity, but then Iremembered how all four of us had tramped about there, in addition tothe victim himself, and I was not sufficiently expert in tracking to beable to distinguish one man's tread from another's.

  It was already daylight and in the distance I could hear the sound of areaping machine in one of the fields beyond the park, therefore I wascompelled to escape in order that my premature examination should remainsecret. So I struck straight across the level sward to the London road,which ran beyond the park boundary, in preference to passing straightdown the avenue at risk of meeting any of the labourers.

  News of the tragedy I knew had not yet reached the Hall, otherwise theservants would have been out to see the spot, therefore I believedmyself quite safe from detection until, just as I scaled the old stonewall and dropped into the broad white high road with its long line oftelegraph lines, I encountered the innkeeper Warr who, mounted on hisbicycle, was riding towards me.

  He had approached noiselessly and we were mutually surprised to meeteach other in such circumstances.

  "Halloa!" he cried, dismounting. "You've been out again very early--eh?"

  "I've been back to the spot to see if I could find any traces of thedead man's assailant," was my reply. "I thought I'd go back early,before the crowd trod over the place. Don't say anything, or Knight mayconsider that I've taken his duty out of his hands."

  "Ah, a very good idea, sir," was the man's approving response. "Ithought of doing so myself, only they're beginning to cut my bit o'wheat in the mill-field this morning and I have to go into Thrapstonabout the machine. I'll be back in an hour."

  He was preparing to re-mount, when I stopped him, saying--

  "Look here, Warr. You recollect that stranger who called and left thenote for Lady Lolita last evening? Well, there seems considerablemystery about the affair, and somehow I feel there's connexion with thefellow's visit with this poor young man's death. If so, her ladyship'sname must be rigorously kept out of it, you understand. There's to bean inquest to-morrow, and we shall both be called to give evidence.Recollect that not a word is said about the man Keene, the note, or themessage."

  "If you wish it, sir, I'll keep a still tongue," was his reply. "I'vetold nobody up to now--not even the missus."

  "Very well. Remember only you and I know of this man's return, and theknowledge must go no further. There's a mystery, but it must have noconnexion with her ladyship."

  "You may trust me, sir. The family have been too good to me all theseyears for me not to try and render them a service. I quite agree withyou that the stranger was suspicious, and from what he said to me inprivate it is certain that he must know her ladyship very well indeed."

  "You're sure you've never seen that young man before?" I asked,watching his face narrowly.

  "Him? No, I don't know him from Adam!" was the landlord's reply, yetuttered in a manner and tone that aroused my distinct suspicions. Hisassurance was just a trifle too emphatic, I thought.

  I paused a moment, half inclined to express my doubt openly, then saidat last--

  "That letter--what shall you do with it?"

  "Give
it to her, of course. I'll come up to the Hall when I come back.I ought to have given it to her last night."

  "Had you done so that man's life might perhaps have been saved--whoknows?"

  "Ah!" he sighed in regret. "I never thought of that. I didn't know itwas of such importance. You see the missus is in bed with a cold, and Icouldn't leave the house in charge o' the girl. They were a bit merrylast night after Jim Cook's weddin'."

  I was anxious to obtain possession of the mysterious letter, but Ialready knew that he would only deliver it to Lolita personally. Yet Ihad no wish that the man Warr should come to the Hall just at the momentwhen the startling news of the tragedy would create a sensationthroughout the whole household. If he were to deliver the