Simon

by J. Storer Clouston

  XXI

  MR. CARRINGTON'S WALK

  Mr. Carrington's easy saunter lasted till he had turned out of thestreet on which the Kings Arms stood, when it passed into an easy walk.Though he had seemed, on the whole, disinclined to go in the Keldaledirection that morning, nevertheless he continued to head that way tillat last he was on the high road with the little town behind him; andthen his pace altered again. He stepped out now like the sportsman hewas, and was doing a good four miles an hour by the time he was out ofsight of the last houses.

  For a man who had come out to gather ideas as to the sportingpossibilities of the country, Mr. Carrington seemed to pay singularlylittle attention to his surroundings. He appeared, in fact, to bethinking about something else all the time, and the first sign ofinterest he showed in anything outside his thoughts was when he foundhimself within sight of the lodge gates of Keldale House, with theavenue sweeping away from the road towards the roofs and chimneys amidthe trees. At the sight of this he stopped, and leaning over the lowwall at the road side gazed with much interest at the scene of thetragedy he had heard so much of last night. The choice spirits, hadthey been there to see, would have been gratified to find that theirgraphic narratives had sent this indolent looking gentleman to view thespot so swiftly.

  From the house and grounds his eye travelled back to the road and thensurveyed the surrounding country very attentively. He even stood on topof the wall to get a wider view; and then all of a sudden he jumped downagain and adopted the reverse procedure, bending now so that little morethan his head appeared above the wall. And the reason for this change ofplan appeared to be a figure which had emerged from the trees and beganto move along a path between the fields.

  Mr. Carrington studied this figure with concentrated attention, and asit drew nearer and became more distinct, a light leapt into his eye thatgave him a somewhat different expression from any his acquaintances oflast night had observed. He saw that the path followed a small streamand ran at an angle to the high road, joining it at last at a point somelittle distance back towards the town. He looked quickly up and down theroad. Not a soul was in sight to see his next very curious performance.The leisurely Mr. Carrington crossed to the further side, where he wasinvisible from the path, and then set out to run at a rapid pace till hereached the junction of path and road. And then he turned down the path.

  But now his bearing altered again in a very extraordinary way. His gaitfell once more to a saunter and his angling enthusiasm seemed suddenlyto have returned, for he frequently studied the burn as he strolledalong, and there was no sign of any thoughtfulness on his ingenuouscountenance. There were a few willows beside the path, and the pathitself meandered, and this was doubtless the reason why he appearedentirely unconscious of the approach of another foot passenger till theywere within a few yards of one another. And then Mr. Carrington stoppedsuddenly, seemed to hesitate, pulled out his watch and glanced at it,and then with an apologetic air raised his hat.

  The other foot passenger was face to face with him now, a slim figure inblack, with a sweet, serious face.

  "Excuse me," said Mr. Carrington, "but can you tell me where this pathleads?"

  He was so polite and so evidently anxious to give no offence, and hisface was such a certificate to his amiable character that the girlstopped too and answered without hesitation:

  "It leads to Keldale House."

  "Keldale House?" he repeated, and then the idea seemed to arouseassociations. "By Jove!" he exclaimed. "Really? I'm an utter strangerhere, but isn't that the place where the murder took place?"

  Had Mr. Carrington been a really observant man, one would think he wouldhave noticed the sudden change of expression in the girl's face--as ifhe had aroused painful thoughts. He did seem to look at her for aninstant as he asked the question, but then turned his gaze towards thedistant glimpse of the house.

  "Yes," she murmured and looked as though she wanted to pass on; but Mr.Carrington seemed so excited by his discovery that he never noticed thisand still stood right in her path.

  "How very interesting!" he murmured. "By Jove, how very interesting!"And then with the air of passing on a still more interesting piece ofnews, he said suddenly, "I hear they have arrested Sir MalcolmCromarty."

  This time he kept his monocle full on her.

  "Arrested him!" she cried. "What for?"

  This question, put with the most palpable wonder, seemed to disconcertMr. Carrington considerably. He even hesitated in a very unusual way forhim.

  "For--for the murder, of course."

  Her eyes opened very wide.

  "For Sir Reginald's murder? How ridiculous!"

  Again Mr. Carrington seemed a little disconcerted.

  "Er--why is it ridiculous?" he asked. "Of course, I--I know nothingabout the gentleman."

  "Evidently!" she agreed with reproach in her eyes. "If Sir Malcolmreally has been arrested, it can only have been for something quitesilly. He couldn't commit a murder!"

  The fact that this tribute to the baronet's innocence was not whollydevoid of a flavour of criticism seemed to strike Mr. Carrington, forhis eye twinkled for an instant.

  "You are acquainted with him then?" said he.

  "I am staying at Keldale; in fact, I am a relation."

  There was no doubt of her intention to rebuke the too garrulousgentleman by this information, and it succeeded completely. He passed atonce to the extreme of apology.

  "Oh! I beg your pardon!" he exclaimed. "I had no idea. Really, I hopeyou will accept my apologies, Miss--er--Cromarty."

  "Miss Farmond," she corrected.

  "Miss Farmond, I mean. It was frightfully tactless of me!"

  He said it so nicely and looked so innocently guilty and so contrite,that her look lost its touch of indignation.

  "I still can't understand what you mean about Sir Malcolm beingarrested," she said. "How did you hear?"

  "Oh, I was very likely misinformed. An old fellow at the hotel lastnight was saying so."

  Her eye began to grow indignant again.

  "What old fellow?"

  "Red hair, shaky knees, bit of a stammer, answers to the name of Sandy,I believe."

  "Old Sandy Donaldson!" she exclaimed. "That drunken old thing! He wassimply talking nonsense as usual!"

  "He seemed a little in liquor," he admitted, "but you see I am a merestranger. I didn't realise what a loose authority I quoted. There isnothing in the report, I am certain. And this path leads only to KeldaleHouse? Thank you very much. Good morning!"

  How Mr. Carrington had obtained this erroneous information from a personwhose back he had merely seen for a couple of minutes the night before,as the reprobate in question was being ejected from the Kings Arms, hedid not stop to explain. In fact, at this point he showed no inclinationto continue the conversation, but bowing very politely, continued hisstroll.

  But the effect of the conversation on him remained, and a very markedeffect it appeared to be. He took no interest in the burn any longer,but paced slowly on, his eyes sometimes on the path and sometimesstaring upwards at the Heavens. So far as his face revealed hissensations, they seemed to be compounded of surprise and perplexity.Several times he shook his head as though some very baffling point hadcropped up in his thoughts, and once he murmured:

  "I'm damned!"

  When the path reached the policies of the house, he stopped and seemedto take some interest in his surroundings once more. For a moment it wasclear that he was tempted to enter the plantations, and then he shookhis head and turned back.

  All the way home he remained immersed in thought and only recovered hisnonchalant air as he entered the door of the Kings Arms. He was the sameeasy-going, smiling young man of fashion as he passed the time of daywith Miss Peterkin; but when he had shut the door of his private sittingroom and dropped into an easy chair over the fire, he again became soabsorbed in thought that he had to be reminded that the hour of luncheonhad passed.

  Thought seemed to vanish during lunch, but when he had
retired to hisroom again, it returned for another half hour. At the end of that timehe apparently came to a decision, and jumping up briskly, repaired tothe manageress' room. And when Miss Peterkin was taken into hisconfidence, it appeared that the whole problem had merely concerned thequestion of taking either a shooting or a fishing for next season.

  "I have been thinking," said he, "that my best plan will perhaps be tocall upon Mr. Simon Rattar and see whether he knows of anything to let.I gather that he is agent for several estates in the county. What do youadvise?"

  Miss Peterkin decidedly advised this course, so a few minutes later Mr.Carrington strolled off towards the lawyer's office.