XXXV
IN THE GARDEN
It was a few minutes after half past eight when Miss Peterkin chanced tomeet her friend Mr. Carrington in the entrance hall of the Kings Arms.He was evidently going out, and she noticed he was rather differentlyhabited from usual, wearing now a long, light top coat of a very darkgrey hue, and a dark coloured felt hat. They were not quite so becomingas his ordinary garb, she thought, but then Mr. Carrington looked thegentleman in anything.
"Are you going to desert us to-night, Mr. Carrington?" asked themanageress.
"I have a letter or two to post," said he, "they are an excuse for astroll. I want a breath of fresh air."
He closed the glass door of the hotel behind him and stood for a momenton the pavement in the little circle of radiance thrown by the light ofthe hall. Mr. Carrington's leisurely movements undoubtedly played nosmall part in the unsuspecting confidence which he inspired. Out of thelight he turned, strolling easily, down the long stretch of blackpavement with its few checkers of lamplight here and there, and theempty, silent street of the little country town at his side. It was avery dark, moonless night, and the air was almost quite still. Lookingupward, he could see a rare star or two twinkle, but all the rest of theHeavens were under cloud. Judging from his contented expression thenight seemed to please him.
He passed the post office, but curiously enough omitted to drop anyletters into the box. The breath of fresh air seemed, in fact, to be hissole preoccupation. Moving with a slightly quickened stride, but stilleasily, he turned out of that street into another even quieter anddarker, and in a short time he was nearing the lights of the station. Hegave these a wide birth, however, and presently was strolling up a verysecluded road, with a few villas and gardens upon the one side, andblack space on the other. There for a moment he stopped and transferredsomething from the pocket of his inner coat into the pocket of his topcoat. It was a small compact article, and a ray of light from alamp-post behind him gleamed for an instant upon a circular metalorifice at one end of it.
Before he moved on, he searched the darkness intently, before him andbehind, but saw no sign of any other passenger. And then he turned therim of his dark felt hat down over his face, stepped out briskly forsome fifty yards further, and turned sharply through an open gate. Onceagain he stopped and listened keenly, standing now in the shadow of thetrees beside the drive. In his dark top coat and with his hat turnedover his face he was as nearly invisible as a man could be, but eventhis did not seem to satisfy him, for in a moment he gently parted thebranches of the trees and pushed through the belt of planting to thelawn beyond.
The villa of Mr. Simon Rattar was now half seen beyond the curving endof the belt that bounded the drive. It was dim against the night sky,and the garden was dimmer still. Carrington kept on the grass, followingthe outside of the trees, and then again plunged into them when theycurved round at the top of the drive. Pushing quietly through, hereached the other side, and there his expedition in search of fresh airseemed to have found its goal, for he leaned his back against a treetrunk, folded his arms, and waited.
He was looking obliquely across a sweep of gravel, with the whole frontof the house full in view. A ray came from the fanlight over the frontdoor and a faint radiance escaped through the slats of the libraryblinds, but otherwise the villa was a lump of darkness in the dark.
One minute after another passed without event and with scarcely even thefaintest sound. Then, all at once, a little touch of breeze sprang upand sighed overhead through the tree tops, and from that time on, therewas an alternation of utter silence with the sough of branches gentlystirred.
From a church tower in the town came the stroke of a clock. Carringtoncounted nine and his eyes were riveted on the front door now. Barelytwo more minutes passed before it opened quietly; a figure appeared foran instant in the light of the hall, and then, as quietly, the doorclosed again. There was a lull at the moment, but Carrington could hearnot a sound. The figure must be standing very still on the doorstep,listening--evidently listening. And then the thickset form of SimonRattar appeared dimly on the gravel, crossing to the lawn beyond. Thepebbles crunched a little, but not very much. He seemed to be walkingwarily, and when he reached the further side he stood still again andCarrington could see his head moving, as though he were looking allround him through the night.
But now the figure was moving again, coming this time straight for thehead of the belt of trees. Carrington had drawn on a pair of darkgloves, and he raised his arm to cover the lower part of his face,looking over it through the branches, and facing the silent owner of thegarden, till there were hardly three paces between them, the one on thelawn, the other in the heart of the plantation.
And then when Simon was exactly opposite, he stopped dead. Carrington'sother hand slipped noiselessly into the pocket where he had dropped thatlittle article, but otherwise he never moved a muscle and he breathedvery gently. The man on the turf seemed to be doing something with hishands, but what, it was impossible to say. The hands would move into hispocket and then out again, till quite three or four minutes had passed,and then came a sudden flash of light. Carrington's right hand movedhalfway out of his pocket and then was stayed, for by the light of thematch he saw a very singular sight.
Simon Rattar was not looking at him. His eyes were focussed just beforehis nose where the bowl of a pipe was beginning to glow. Carringtoncould hear the lips gently sucking, and then the aroma of tobacco camein a strong wave through the trees. Finally the match went out, and theglowing pipe began to move slowly along the turf, keeping close to theshelter of the trees.
For a space Carrington stood petrified with wonder, and then, verycarefully and quite silently, he worked his way through the trees out onto the turf, and at once fell on his hands and knees. Had any one beenthere to see, they would have beheld for the next five minutes a strangeprocession of two slowly moving along the edge of the plantation; athickset man in front smoking a pipe and something like a great gorillastalking him from behind. This procession skirted the plantation nearlydown to the gate; then it turned at right angles, following the line oftrees that bordered the wall between the garden and the road; and thenagain at right angles when it had reached the further corner of Mr.Rattar's demesne. Simon was now in a secluded path with shrubs on eitherhand, and instead of continuing his tour, he turned at the end of thispath and paced slowly back again. And seeing this, the ape behind himsquatted in the shadow of a laurel and waited.
A steady breeze was now blowing and the trees were sighing continuously.The sky at the same time cleared, and more and more stars came out tillthe eyes of the man behind the bush could follow the moving man from endto end of the path. The wind made the pipe smoke quickly, and presentlya shower of sparks showed that it was being emptied, and in a minute ortwo another match flashed and a second pipe glowed faintly.
Backwards and forwards paced the lawyer, and backwards and forwardsagain, but for the space of nearly an hour from his first coming out,that was everything that happened; and then at last came a tapping ofthe bowl and more sparks flying abroad in the wind. The procession wasresumed, Simon in front, the ape-like form behind; but with a greaterspace between them this time as the night was clearer, and now they wereheading for the house. The lawyer's steps crunched lightly on the gravelagain, the front door opened and closed, and Carrington was alone in thegarden.
Still crawling, he reached the shelter of the belt of trees and thenrose and made swiftly for the gate, and out into the road. As he passedunder a lamp, his face wore a totally new expression, compounded ofwonder, excitement, and urgent thought. He was walking swiftly, and hispace never slackened, nor did the keenness leave his face, till he wasback at the door of the Kings Arms Hotel. Before he entered, he took offhis hat and turned up the brim again, and his manner when he tapped atthe door of the manageress' room was perfectly sedate. He let it appear,however, that he had some slight matter on his mind.
"What is the name of Mr. Rattar's head clerk?" he enqu
ired. "An oldish,prim looking man, with side whiskers."
"Oh, that will be Mr. Ison," said the manageress.
"I have just remembered a bit of business I ought to have seen aboutto-night," he continued. "I can't very well call on Mr. Rattar himselfat this hour, but I was thinking of looking up Mr. Ison if I coulddiscover his whereabouts."
"The boots will show you the way to his house," said she, and rang thebell.
While waiting for the boots, Mr. Carrington asked another casualquestion or two and learned that Mr. Ison had been in the office sincehe was a boy. No man knew the house of Rattar throughout its twogenerations better than Mr. Ison, said Miss Peterkin; and she rememberedafterwards that this information seemed to give Mr. Carrington peculiarsatisfaction. He seemed so gratified, indeed, that she wondered a littleat the time.
And then the visitor and the boots set out together for the clerk'shouse, and at what hour her guest returned she was not quite sure. Theboots, it seemed, had been instructed to wait up for him, but she hadlong gone to bed.
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