Simon

by J. Storer Clouston

  XII

  CICELY

  Ned Cromarty waited in the hall while Bisset went to the door with theProcurator Fiscal and Superintendent of Police. As he stood there in thedarkened silence of the house, there came to his ears for an instant thefaint sound of a voice, and it seemed to be a woman's. With that thecurrent of his thoughts seemed to change, and when Bisset returned heasked, though with marked hesitation:

  "Do you think, Bisset, I could do anything for any of them, Mr. MalcolmCromarty, or--er--Miss Farmond?"

  Bisset considered the point judicially. It was clear he felt that themanagement of the household was in his hands now.

  "I am sure Miss Farmond would be pleased, sir--poor young lady!"

  "Do you really think so?" said Ned, and his manner brightened visibly."Well, if she won't mind----"

  "I think if you come this way, sir, you will find her with Sir Malcolm."

  "_Sir_ Malcolm!" exclaimed Ned. "My God, so he is!"

  To himself he added:

  "And she will soon be Lady Cromarty!"

  But the thought did not seem to exhilarate him.

  He was led towards the billiard room, an addition to the house which layrather apart. The door was half open and through it he could see thatthe blinds had been drawn down, and he could hear a murmur of voices.

  "They are in there, sir," said Bisset, and he left him.

  As Ned Cromarty entered he caught the words, spoken by the new baronet:

  "My dear Cicely, I depend on your sympathy----"

  He broke off as he heard a footstep, and seemed to move a little apartfrom the chair where Cicely was sitting.

  The two young people greeted their visitor, Cicely in a voice so lowthat it was scarcely audible, but with a smile that seemed, he thought,to welcome him; Sir Malcolm with a tragic solemnity which no doubt wasquite appropriate to a bereaved baronet. The appearance of a third partyseemed, however, to afford him no particular gratification, and afterexchanging a sentence or two, he begged, in a very serious tone, to beexcused, and retired, walking softly and mournfully. Ned noticed thenthat his face was extraordinarily pale and his eye disturbed.

  "I was afraid of disturbing you," said Ned. He was embarrassed, a rarecondition with him, which, when it did afflict him, resulted in animpression of intimidating truculence.

  Cicely seemed to shrink a little, and he resolved to leave instantly.

  "Oh no!" she said shyly.

  "I only wanted to say that if I could do anything for you--well, you'veonly to let me know."

  "It's awfully kind of you," she murmured.

  There was something so evidently sincere in this murmur that hisembarrassment forthwith left him.

  "Thank Heaven!" he said after his outspoken habit. "I was afraid I wasputting my foot in it. But if you really don't mind my seeing you for aminute or two, I'd just like to say----"

  He broke off abruptly, and she looked up at him questioningly.

  "Dash it, I can't say it, Miss Farmond! But you know, don't you?"

  She murmured something again, and though he could not quite hear what itwas, he knew she understood and appreciated.

  Leaning against the corner of the shrouded billiard table, with theblinds down and this pale slip of a girl in deep mourning sitting in abasket chair in the dim light, he began suddenly to realise the tragedy.

  "I've been too stunned till now to grasp what's happened," he said in amoment. "Our best friend gone, Miss Farmond!"

  He had said exactly the right thing now.

  "He certainly was mine!" she said.

  "And mine too. We may live to be a brace of Methuselahs, but I guesswe'll never see his like again!"

  His odd phrase made her smile for a moment despite herself. It passedswiftly and she said:

  "_I_ can't believe it yet."

  Again there was silence, and then he said abruptly:

  "It's little wonder you can't believe it. The thing is so extraordinary.It's incredible. A man without an enemy in the world--no robberyattempted--sitting in his own library--in just about the most peacefuland out of the way county in Scotland--not a sound heard by anybody--nota reason that one can possibly imagine--and yet murdered!"

  "But it must have been a robber surely!"

  "Why didn't he rob something then?"

  "But how else----?"

  "How indeed! You've not a suspicion of any one yourself, Miss Farmond?Say it right out if you have. We don't lynch here. At least," hecorrected himself as he recalled the telegraph posts, "it hasn't beendone yet."

  "I _can't_ suspect any one!" she said earnestly. "I never met any one inmy life that I could possibly imagine doing such a thing!"

  "No," he said. "I guess our experiences have been pretty different. I'vemet lots, but then there are none of those boys here. Who is there inthis place?"

  He paused and stared into space.

  "It must have been a tramp--some one who doesn't belong here!"

  "I was trying to think whether there are any lunatics about," he said ina moment. "But there aren't any."

  There was silence for some minutes. He was thinking; she never moved.Then he heard a sound, and looking down saw that she had herhandkerchief in her hand. He had nearly bent over her before heremembered Sir Malcolm, and at the recollection he said abruptly:

  "Well, I've disturbed you too long. If I can do anything--anythingwhatever, you'll let me know, won't you?"

  "You are very, very kind," she murmured, and a note in her voice nearlymade him forget the new baronet. In fact, he had to retire ratherquickly to be sure of himself.

  The efficiency of James Bisset was manifest at every conjuncture.Businesslike and brisk he appeared from somewhere as Cromarty reachedthe hall, and led him from the front regions to the butler's sittingroom.

  "I will bring your lunch in a moment, sir," he murmured, and vanishedbriskly.

  The room looked out on a courtyard at the back, and through the windowNed could see against the opposite buildings the rain driving in clouds.In the court the wind was eddying, and beneath some door he could hearit drone insistently. Though the toughest of men, he shivered a littleand drew up a wicker chair close in front of the fire.

  "It's incredible!" he murmured, and as he stared at the flames thisthought seemed to haunt him all the time.

  Bisset laid the table and another hour passed. Ned ate a little lunchand then smoked and stared at the fire while the wind droned andblustered without ceasing, and occasionally a cross gust sent the raindrops softly pattering on the panes.

  "I'm damned if I see a thing!" he suddenly exclaimed half aloud, andjumped to his feet.

  Before he had time to start for the door, Bisset's mysterious efficiencywas made manifest again. Precisely as he was wanted, he appeared, andthis time it was clear that his own efforts had not been altogetherfruitless. He had in fact an air of even greater complacency than usual.

  "I have arrived at certain conclusions, sir," he announced.