The Sign of the Stranger

by William Le Queux

That the assassinhad an accomplice is thus proved without a doubt. Therefore I thinkthat under such peculiar circumstances you should leave the matter inthe hands of the police to investigate. They will, I hope, be able bothto establish the dead man's identity, and to fix the crime upon theguilty person. In cases such as this it is always best for the jury toreturn a verdict of `Wilful Murder against some person or personsunknown,' as it allows the police an entirely free hand afterwards, andprevents them from being compelled in evidence to disclose the nature ordirection of the inquiries."

  "Redway's a fool. He'll discover nothing," whispered the Earl to me, ashe stood beside me in the further corner of the schoolroom. "If SirStephen had stirred up Scotland Yard we might have hoped for success.But now it's in Redway's hands we may rest assured it will be bungledfrom the very first."

  "I fear so," was my reply, although at heart I was honestly glad thatthe inquiries were left to the local constabulary.

  "Well, sir," exclaimed the foreman of the jury to the Coroner, "we are,I think, entirely in your hands."

  "You've heard the evidence, and that is as far as we can proceedto-day," he said. "Of course if you deem it wiser to adjourn for a weekyou may do so. You are here to decide not who committed the murder butto inquire by what means the deceased came by his death. About thelatter I think you can have no doubt, and if you return a verdict inaccordance with the evidence--a verdict of wilful murder--then thepolice will push their inquiries, I hope, to some successful issue. Areyou all agreed?"

  The twelve villagers in their Sunday tweeds whispered together and thelocal baker at last replied in the affirmative. Then the verdict wassigned, and Knight in a loud voice thanked the jury for their attendanceand declared the court closed.

  Thus ended the official inquiry into the death of the man unknown--theman who had carried secreted within his vest the paper with thosestrange cabalistic numbers written upon it, and who, strangest of all,had worn in the ring upon his finger a portrait of my love!

  CHAPTER ELEVEN.

  CERTAIN QUESTIONS AND THEIR ANSWERS.

  The inquest concluded, I walked back to the Hall with the Earl. Thelatter was annoyed that the Home Secretary had not acted upon hissuggestion. He was young, and therefore impetuous sometimes, as a manof his great wealth is perhaps apt to be. Since his marriage he had, Inoticed, become more quick-tempered, restless and rather lessgood-humoured than in his buoyant bachelor days. The gayirresponsibility of Marigold, his wife, worried him, I knew, and Itherefore looked upon his irritability as only natural.

  "The whole thing's a confounded mystery, Woodhouse," he remarked after along silence as we went up the avenue, glad of the shade, for it was ablazing day. "I haven't yet told that thick-headed fool Redway aboutthe fellow watching me in London. Do you think I ought?"

  "No," I answered. "Let him find out for himself. He's got lots ofself-assurance, therefore he may, I think, be allowed to show his greattalent as a tracker of criminals."

  "By Jove! you're right," he laughed. "If it were not for the fact thatI should be aiding him, I'd pay a smart private detective myself to lookinto the matter. What's all that rot he says about finding a woman'sfootprint there? I expect it's only where one of the maids from theHall has passed along. I've lots of times seen courting couples fromthe village going along on the grass parallel with these trees, so as toavoid being noticed by any of us." I did not remark that neither thegirls of Sibberton nor the maids at the Hall were in the habit ofwearing Louis XV heels. On the contrary, I entirely agreed with myemployer's remarks.

  He wanted to see Frank Blew, his huntsman, therefore we struck acrossthe wide level park to the curious old building, the gate of which,flanked by two circular towers, presented the appearance of an ancientcastle, and entered the celebrated kennels of the Stanchester Foxhounds.

  Blew and his assistants were in the paved courts, wearing long whitesmocks over their clothes and engaged in feeding the hounds as weentered. The instant we passed the low wicket-gate a dozen of them werepawing us, while the Earl, knowing each of the pack by name, cried--

  "Down Jason! Down Jerry! Down Bound-away." And each addressed by nameobediently returned to his companions.

  "I've decided the date, Blew," the Earl said. "We begin cubbing threeweeks on Monday, so you'll have everything ready."

  "Yes, m'lord."

  "We'll commence in the covers around the park, as usual, you know. Ishall fix the first meet at Spring Wood, at five. Her ladyship will beback, and both she and Lady Lolita intend cubbing this season."

  "Glad to hear that, m'lord. Last season all the Hunt regretted that theCountess came out so very little."

  "Well, let's hope we kill as many cubs as we did last back-end. I wishall of you the best of good luck."

  "Thank you, m'lord; we shall all of us do our best, I assure you." Andthe sharp-nosed, thin-faced, thin-legged huntsman, one of the "cracks"of England, touched his cap to his master to whom he had always beendevoted ever since the days when he was only a stable "helper" and youngLord Sibberton used to ride to the meets on his pony.

  There is still among hunting-men in England, both master and servant, agenuine _camaraderie_ that exists in no other sport. In thehunting-field the Master is supreme to control and direct; and afterthat millionaire and farmer, countess and vicar's daughter, squire andhorse-breaker are all on equality, all keen upon the running down of thecrafty marauder of the hen-roost.

  Therefore it was not really surprising that Blew was the Earl's adviserin all connected with the pack and with the hunt, and that in hisabsence at San Remo in the latter part of the winter season, or inLondon, he left the hounds for Frank Blew to hunt, and surely a betterhuntsman there was not in all the shires. After leaving Sibberton hehad graduated in the Belvoir, and the Quorn kennels, and had returned tothe old Earl's service as kennel-huntsman and subsequently as huntsman.

  Some conversation followed regarding the condition of the puppies, thebad epidemic of distemper, and the consequent fatality among them; thenaming of some fresh puppies which were to be put out to "walk" withfarmers on the estate, and then, with Blew accompanying us to the gateand raising his cap, we struck away across the park, back again to theHall.

  I lunched alone, and about four o'clock had finished the correspondence.My brain was on fire. I wanted to see Lolita, for truth to tell Iwished to ascertain from her how much she knew regarding the dead manwho had worn her portrait in secret.

  When I had met her in that draggled condition in the wood I hadpurposely made no mention of the crime and its discovery, preferring toallow her to make some mention of it herself. But she had made noremark. Perhaps she, too, had been waiting for me to broach theunwelcome subject. One thing was, however, plain: with the exception ofthat unfortunate footprint of which Redway had taken a cast, she hadsucceeded in very cleverly hiding the fact that she had been absent fromher room that night, or that she had had any connexion whatsoever withthe tragedy.

  I thought of the necklet which I now had locked safely in my room downin the village, and wondered how it possibly could have come into theyoung man's possession a year ago. It surely had not been stolen,otherwise she would have remarked upon her loss. Had she given it tohim? That was the question which constantly held me thinking andwondering.

  I awaited my opportunity to encounter her when tea was served in thehall and, there being no visitors, she seated herself at the greatsilver tray and handed me my cup. The Earl had ridden over to Laxton,therefore we were alone, except for the irritating presence of Slater,the grave-faced old butler.

  She was dressed to go out walking, her brown tailor-made gown fittingher like a glove and her smart straw _canotier_ to match gave her that_chic_, almost Parisienne appearance which was so characteristic of herwell-bred style. She always dressed well, without any undue show oflaces and trimmings, but with that exquisite taste which betokens thewell-turned-out woman who is an aristocrat.

  I stood before the great old fireplac
e with its enormous bright steeldogs of an age bygone, and chatted to her, noting that in her face therewas no trace of anxiety, so well did she conceal her feelings before theservants. Our conversation was rather strained, it was true, mostlyabout a tennis tournament over at Drayton and regarding the decision ofher brother to cut down and grub-up Oxen Wood, a favourite cover whichhe had suddenly taken it into his head to sweep away. Then, when teahad finished, she announced her intention of walking across the park toStanion village and invited me to accompany her.

  This I eagerly did, and a few moments later we were out in the brightafternoon sunshine. Our way led first up the north avenue across thedeer park for half-a-mile, then along a narrow path through one