The Sign of the Stranger

by William Le Queux

touch a cue."

  I complimented him upon a break of eighteen he had that moment made,whereupon he exclaimed suddenly--

  "Oh, by the way! Lord Stanchester told me yesterday that it was you whodiscovered that mysterious affair in the park here some time ago. Tellme all about it. I'm always fond of mysteries."

  He hid his dark-bearded face from me, occupying himself in chalking hiscue. But his demand told me that, as I expected, he had not recognisedme as Warr's visitor on the evening when, tired and dusty, he hadrefreshed himself at the _Stanchester Arms_.

  "I suppose you read all about it in the papers?" I said, not quiteunderstanding his motive.

  "George showed me some of the accounts. Most extraordinary affair--wasn't it? They don't even know the poor fellow's name, do they?"

  "The police axe in ignorance of it as far as I know," was my response.

  "But explain to me the exact position in which you found him," he urged,leaving off playing, leaning with his back against the stonemantelshelf, and drawing heavily at his cigar. "I take a keen interestin such matters as this. Out after big game, we become almost likedetectives so necessary it is to follow clues and footprints."

  "Well," I said, "I simply heard a cry in the darkness, and got Warr, thepublican from the village, to help me to search--and we found him."

  "He was dead, of course--quite dead?" he asked eagerly, as though, itseemed, in fear that the victim had still been conscious and had spoken.

  "Quite," I replied, still much puzzled. He had himself invited me tobilliards, and it seemed for the purpose of obtaining from me the exactdetails of the discovery. "He had been struck a cowardly blow in theback which the doctors declared must have proved fatal at once."

  "You heard his cry?" he said, looking me straight in the face. "It wasthat which attracted you?"

  "I heard _a_ cry," was my answer.

  "Ah! Then you didn't recognise the voice?"

  "How could I recognise the voice of a person unknown to me?" I asked.

  "I mean that the cry was a man's?"

  "No--a woman's."

  "What?" he exclaimed, taking his cigar from his lips, and staring at mewith a hardness at the corners of his mouth. "Are you quite sure ofthat? It isn't in the evidence I've read."

  "I know it isn't," I said. "There are several things known to me thatare not in the depositions."

  "And what are they?"

  "Matters which concern only myself," I replied. "I'm endeavouring toobtain a solution of the mystery. The police have failed, so I ammaking independent inquiries on my own account."

  His brows again contracted slightly, and I saw that what I said was tohim the reverse of welcome.

  "And what have you discovered?" he asked with a dark look which struckme as curious. "You have surely good scope for your efforts in such anaffair. Lord Stanchester is exceedingly anxious that the truth shouldbe revealed. He asked me my opinion--knowing my keen interest inmysteries of all sorts."

  "And what is your opinion?"

  "Shall I tell you, Mr Woodhouse?" he asked with a mysterious smile,bending earnestly towards me and lowering his voice. "Well, my ownopinion is that you yourself know more about it than any one."

  "Me!" I cried, looking at the fellow. "You don't imply that I'm guiltyof the murder, do you?"

  "Oh!--not at all--not at all?" he hastened to assure me. "I intended toconvey that you are in possession of certain facts unknown to thepolice. Do you understand me?"

  "Not exactly," I replied. "If you suggest that I know the dead man'sreal name, then I admit it. His name was Wingfield--Hugh Wingfield."

  "What!" he gasped, his sinister countenance turning pale, as he stoodaghast. "You know that! Who told you?"

  "I found out for myself," I answered, looking him full in the face. "Idiscovered it by the same means as I discovered other things--that thedead man wore on his finger the portrait of Lady Lolita, and--"

  "And what else?" he asked breathlessly. "Be frank with me as I will, ina moment, be frank with you. Did you discover anything in his pockets--any letter--or anything written in numbers--a cipher?"

  "I did."

  "Then show it to me," he urged quickly. "Let me see it."

  "I shall do nothing of the sort!" was my firm response. "What iswritten there is my own affair."

  "Of course. But you can't read it without the key," he declared with adefiant laugh.

  "I desire no assistance," I said briefly.

  "But if I mistake not, Mr Woodhouse, you entertain affection towardsLady Lolita--and--well, your affection is reciprocated--at least so shetells me," he added with a slight sneer, I thought.

  "And what, pray, does that concern the paper found in the dead man'spocket?" I inquired resentfully. "I know rather more of the affairthan you conjecture," I added. "And as you wish me to speak plainly Imay as well remark that I have certainly no confidence in the person whois guest in this house under the name of Smeeton, and whose real name isRichard Keene."

  The man drew back with a start and stood glaring at me blankly,open-mouthed, his eyes starting from his head.

  I smiled when I saw the effect upon him of my sudden accusation.

  But next moment my smile of triumph died from my lips, and I it was whostood bewildered.

  CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

  REFERS TO CERTAIN UGLY FACTS.

  Richard Keene placed his cue upon the floor, and leaning upon it, lookedstraight at me and said--

  "Yes. It is quite true that I'm in this house under false colours. Butdo you think it will be to your advantage, Mr Woodhouse, to quarrelwith me?"

  "I only know that your presence here is unwelcome to certain members ofLord Stanchester's household," I exclaimed. "And I should consider it avery wise course if you excused yourself and left."

  "Why should I?" he asked triumphantly. "I'm really enjoying myself herevery much. The Earl gives his guests plenty of sport."

  "And you, on your part, are making sport of an innocent woman!" I said,with rising anger at the fellow's defiance.

  "I suppose Lady Lolita has told you something, then?" he remarked.

  "Lady Lolita has told me of your merciless attitude towards her," Isaid. "I am quite well aware of your secret communications with LadyStanchester," I added. "And it is plain to me in what direction yourefforts are directed."

  He started again, looking at me as though uncertain how far my knowledgeof his past extended. Then he slowly stroked his short-cropped beard.

  "In other words then the two women have betrayed me--eh?" he observedthoughtfully in a harsh mechanical voice, as though speaking to himself.

  "Not in the least," was my answer. "They dare not betray you--that youknow quite well. But my affection for Lady Lolita, to which youreferred just now, has caused me to make certain inquiries with somewhatcurious results. Therefore, I tell you plainly, Mr Keene, that if youare not desirous of exposure you had better leave Sibberton before noonto-morrow."

  "And if not?" he inquired, raising his eyebrows.

  "If not, I shall go to his lordship and tell him your real name."

  He laughed in my face.

  "Well, that's exactly what would bring matters to a head," he declared."Perhaps, after all, it would be best if he did know--for I could thenreveal to him, and to the world, a truth that would be both ugly andstartling. Tell him who I am, if you wish, but before doing so, is itnot better to carefully consider all the eventualities?"

  At that instant Lolita's maid Weston opened the door, apparently lookingfor her mistress. Her eyes met Keene's, and I saw a look of mutualrecognition. But in an instant the young woman closed the door again.

  Keene made no remark, but I saw surprise and apprehension written uponhis sun-bronzed features.

  "Then, in a word, you refuse to relieve these ladies of your presence?"I said in a firm tone.

  "I refuse to obey any paid servant of Lord Stanchester," was hisinsulting response.

  "But if you recol
lect the manner in which you first visited Sibberton--as a hungry tramp who drank beer at the _Stanchester Arms_--you mustadmit that your presence here is, to say the least, suspicious. Youentrusted to Warr a letter to Lady Lolita--and village publicans willgossip, you know."

  "What, has that fellow been talking--surely not?" he exclaimed quickly.

  "I only speak from my own knowledge--not from hearsay."

  He took a long draw at his cigar, looking me