CHAPTER XXVIII
THE FACES UNMASKED
Eldon Hall is one of those fine old country mansions so much admired,and not infrequently coveted by, rich Americans who come over to"do England."
It was the late Colonel North, of nitrate fame, who, upon visitingKilleen Castle, in County Meath, with a view to buying the place for hisson, laconically observed: "Yes, it's not a bad old pile, but much tooramshackle for my son. I could manage to live in it, I dare say, but ifmy son buys it he'll pull it down and rebuild it," a remark whichtickled its owner a good deal.
Eldon Hall, in Northumberland, is fully as old and in some respects asvenerable a "pile" as Killeen Castle, though its architecture is whollydifferent. Many attempts have been made to fix the date of Eldon--theproperty has been in Lord Cranmere's family "from a period," as thelawyers say, "so far back that the memory of man runneth not to thecontrary"--but experts differ considerably in their opinions.
This is due to the fact that though a portion of the old place isundoubtedly Elizabethan, there yet are portions obviously of a muchearlier date. According to several authorities the earlier building mustat some period have been in part destroyed, most probably, they say, byfire, the portion left intact being then deserted for generations, and,towards the end of the sixteenth century, inhabited again, when, it isfurther conjectured, the latter part must have been built. The effectproduced by this architectural medley is bizarre in the extreme, andmany and strange are the local legends and traditions connected withEldon Hall.
Situated on the slope of a gigantic ravine, twelve miles from thenearest town, and eight from the nearest railway station, and the roadsin that part of Northumberland being far from good, until the advent ofthe automobile Eldon Hall was looked upon by many as, in a sense,inaccessible.
The house being far from the beaten track, few excursionists or tripperscame near the place in those days, and, indeed, even to-day thesightseers who find their way there are for the most part Americans.From the ridge of hills which shuts in and practically surrounds theestate--hills all densely wooded--a panoramic and truly glorious viewcan be obtained of the wonderfully picturesque scenery that unfoldsitself on all sides. Here, then, it was that, on the 28th day ofFebruary, 1912, many hundreds of people from all parts of the country,exclusive of local residents and of Lord Cranmere's own tenantry, wereto assemble for a week of festivity and rejoicing which, so rumour said,would eclipse anything of the kind ever before seen at Eldon, which longhad been famous for its "outbursts" of entertainment.
Lord Cranmere's elder son, who was about to come of age, was like thetypical athletic young Briton. Tall, well-built, handsome, with plentyof self-assurance and a wholly unaffected manner, he was worthy of hisfather's pride. It was no exaggeration to say that everybody, rich andpoor alike, who came into contact with him, at once fell under the spellof his attractive personality. A popular man himself Lord Cranmere hadalways been, but his outlook upon life was somewhat narrow--in spite ofhis opportunities he had seen little of life and had few interestsbeyond fox-hunting, game-shooting and salmon-fishing. His eldest son, onthe contrary, had, from the age of eighteen, travelled constantly. Twicealready he had been round the world, and so quick was his power ofobservation that at twenty-one he knew more of life and of things thatmatter than many a man of his class and twice his age.
It was a glorious morning, the sun shining brightly, and strangely warmfor February, as the car in which I had travelled from London with threecompanions, all of them Scotland Yard men, pulled up at a farmhousewithin two miles of Eldon. The journey from London, begun at three inthe morning on the previous day, had been broken at Skipton, nearHarrogate, where we had spent the night. Now, as the five of us--for ourdriver was also, I discovered, a member of the force--walked brisklyalong the narrow, winding lane in the direction of the park whichsurrounds Eldon Hall, the morning air was refreshing, also intenselyinvigorating.
We looked little enough like London men, and I doubt whether anybodymeeting us would for an instant have supposed that we were not what weintended that we should look like, namely well-to-do tenantry of LordCranmere's bound for the scene of the coming-of-age festivities. It wasbarely nine o'clock, and at eleven the morning's sports were to begin.Several carts overtook us, loaded with cheery fellows; some of whomshouted rustic jests as they passed us by, which my companions werequick to acknowledge. We had walked, I suppose, rather less than a mile,when we suddenly came to a stile.
"Here's our short cut," the man who walked beside me said, as he stoppedabruptly. "Many's the time I've climbed over this stile more years agothan I like to think, sir," he remarked lightly. "My father wasunder-keeper to his lordship's father, and I've not been back sincetwenty years. It's not a bit changed, though, the old place, not a bit,I'm going, when I retire on my pension, to live down here again. I wantto leave my bones where I was born, and where my father's and mother'sare. It's a fine country, this sir, not a county like it in the whole ofEngland," he added with enthusiasm. "And you see yonder cross-roads?That's Clun Cross--there's said to be a highwayman buried at thatcross-roads with a stake pushed through his body."
"Clun Cross." I remembered the name at once. It was the name that hadappeared in one of the advertisements deciphered by Dick.
We made our way up the steep footpath which led across a cramped field.Now we were on the boundary of a thickly underwooded cover.
"There's not a tree in this wood I don't remember," he said, lookingabout him as we scrambled up the bridle path. Bracken up to our waistswas on both sides, and it grew and hung over so thickly that the pathwas barely visible. As we reached the top of the track he gave a lowwhistle. Instantly the whistle was answered. A moment later half a dozenmen rose up out of the undergrowth.
At the foot of a clump of pine trees in the middle of the wood, we laydown to confer. Then it was I learned, for the first time, something ofthe line of action the police had decided to adopt.
Forty police officers in various disguises, the majority dressed to looklike the tenantry in their holiday clothes, were, it seemed, concealedin the various covers, in addition to a dozen disguised as labourers,stationed in fields beside the roads leading to Eldon Hall.
Besides these were fifteen officers, guests to all appearance, who wouldarrive with the other guests and mingle with them freely. There werealso eight men disguised as hired waiters, who would help the servantsbelow stairs in the Hall, and five female detectives assisting the maidsin their work.
"You've got the revolver I gave you?" the gamekeeper's son said, turningto me suddenly. His name, he had told me, was Ross.
"Yes, though I all but forgot it."
"Let me see it," he said.
I produced it from my pocket, and handed it over.
"I thought so!" he exclaimed. "Not loaded." He loaded it with thecartridges I gave him, then gave it back to me.
Half an hour passed. One by one the men had risen and wandered away. Nowonly three remained. Ten minutes later two more rose and went, leavingme alone with Ross. His reminiscences of game-keeping--a calling heseemed still to love--and of the former Lord Cranmere and his relationsand his friends, also his experiences during the eighteen years he hadbeen in the police force, were interesting to listen to. Brighter andbrighter the sun shone. The weather was almost spring-like and no breathof wind stirred. Half a mile or so away, in the valley far beneath us,well-dressed men and women sauntered in the gardens and out upon thelawns. Larger and larger grew the number of these guests. From varyingdistances came the sound of cars rapidly approaching. In the broad, flatmeadow, far down to our right, sports of different sorts were inprogress. Beyond them were swings and similar attractions where childrenin their hundreds thronged and clustered. In all directions flew flagsand bunting, while the sharp reports of the shooting-gallery rifles wereaudible above the blare of the roundabouts' steam organs.
Ross pulled out his field glass, and, kneeling up in the deep bracken,focussed the crowds in turn. It was now past noon. From
the lawn facingthe house the strains of a Strauss valse, played by an excellent band,floated up to where we knelt, though the racket of the steam organsclashed with it to some extent.
Slowly the time crept on. Longer and longer grew the approaching queueof cars. In one field alone, set aside as a garage, I counted over ahundred. Others were left out in the stable yards. Others could be seen,deserted by the roadsides. Beyond the band upon the lawn mammothmarquees had been erected, in which lunch for the vast concourse wouldpresently be served. Already servants in their dozens hurried in and outas they made ready for the feast.
"About the queerest job I've ever had a hand in, this is," Ross observedpresently, lowering his glass. "What do you make of it, Mr. Berrington?"
"Nothing as yet," I answered. "What puzzles me is--why did they want tobring me here?"
Ross chuckled.
"He's most likely got some reason," he presently murmured. "I don'tsuppose Albeury'd fetch you here for your health."
Again he focussed his glass. Now the people were gradually drifting.Slowly the crowds began to surge in the direction where the tents stood.Now the tents were filling fast. Once more the band was playing.Everyone seemed happy. Joy and laughter were in the air. Engrossed inthe panorama which interested me considerably, all thought of my reasonsfor being there had for the moment faded from my mind, and--"
"Hark!" Ross exclaimed.
He remained silent, listening.
"What did you hear?" I asked, when half a minute had passed.
"Didn't you hear it?"
"No. What?"
"That buzzing sound. It wasn't a car, I'm certain. I believe it wasa--there, listen!"
I heard it now, distinctly. Away to our right it sounded, high in theair, apparently; a strange, humming noise.
"An aeroplane?"
He nodded.
Quickly the sound increased in volume. Now we saw that the crowds downin the valley had heard it. They were gazing up in the sky, away to ourright. Now they were getting excited. Like ants they hurried about. Outof the tents they swarmed, like bees out of a hive that has been stirredup with a stick. And now out of the house, too, they camehurrying--guests, men and maidservants, hired helpers, everybody.
The humming grew louder and louder.
"'Scot! What an idea!"
"Idea?" I exclaimed. "What do you mean?"
"We'd a rumour before leaving town that something unexpected andstartling might occur in connection with this affair. This is it, youmay depend."
Still I was perplexed.
"I don't follow your line of thought," I said. "What can an aeroplanehave to do with the gang, or they with it? They wouldn't come down in anaeroplane to commit a robbery, surely?"
He looked at me, as I thought, pityingly, as though sorry for my lack ofimagination, or intelligence, or both.
Now everybody was rushing about; all were hurrying in one direction; afew later stragglers still came stumbling out of the house, running asfast as their legs would carry them. The humming sounded just above ourheads. Looking up, we suddenly saw the aeroplane.
A large biplane, containing two passengers, it passed not thirty feetabove us, flying horizontally in a straight line. Now it descended alittle way, then slowly began to circle. At that moment we heard a shot,fired somewhere in the woods.
"Our signal," Ross murmured. "Are you ready to go?"
"Go where?"
"You'll see."
The aeroplane was descending rapidly. Almost immediately beneath it wasgathered a dense crowd. Looking through Ross's glass, I saw one of thepassengers waving to the crowd to clear out of the way. A moment later,and the biplane was dashing straight at the people beneath.
"Quick! My glass."
I handed it to him. Instantly he levelled it in the direction of thehouse.
"See those men?" he said, pointing.
I turned in the direction he was looking. In the main road, just beyondthe house, two men seemed to be busy with a large car. As I looked, athird man appeared in the roadway, walking quickly towards them. Hestepped into the car behind the one where the two men already were, and,crouching, was at once lost to sight.
"Come--quickly!" Ross exclaimed. "You see the idea now? That aeroplanearrival is a ruse to distract everybody's attention. There's never beenan aeroplane up here before. This is the first time most of that crowd,except the guests, have ever seen one. When we get into the house you'llfind it completely deserted--or apparently so. But some of the gang willbe busy there, that you may depend upon--our men are already there."
With all speed we scrambled through the bracken and down the steep slopetowards the house. In five minutes or less we were within fifty yards ofEldon Hall.
The back door stood wide open. Entering cautiously, we found ourselvesin the kitchen premises. Kitchen, pantry, every room and thestone-flagged passages were deserted. A moment or two later we pushedopen a spring door, to find ourselves in the hall. Nobody was thereeither, and the front door stood ajar.
"Off with your boots--quick!"
A glance into the various downstair rooms, all of which were deserted,then up the front stairs we crept in our stockinged feet. On the landingtwo men stepped noiselessly out of a doorway. Both, I saw, weredetectives in rubber shoes.
"You know the men of the gang by sight?" one of them whispered, as hestood beside me.
"Some of them," I answered.
"And they know who you are, we understand."
"Yes."
"Then if you meet one--shoot! He'll shoot you if you don't shoot first."
My hand trembled with excitement as I clutched the pistol in my pocket.My mouth was dry. I could hear my heart thumping. Cautiously I followedRoss along the corridor.
Suddenly a loud report almost deafened me. At the same instant Ross fellforward on to his face, with a hideous crash--I can hear it now as Ithink of it. A moment later a man dashed past me, and tore furiouslydown the stairs. Springing after him I fired wildly as heran--once--twice. I had missed him and he was gone. In one of the roomsI could distinctly hear sounds of a scuffle. There were blows, someoaths and a muffled groan. Now the house was suddenly in uproar. Thedeafening sound of several shots echoed along the corridors. Two menwere running towards me. Wildly I flung out my arm, the revolver in myhand aimed point blank at one of them, and then--
Something struck me from behind, a fearful blow, and, stumbling, I lostconsciousness.
* * * * *
I was in a room, almost in darkness. Like shadows two figures movednoiselessly about. They were figures I didn't recognize. My head achedfearfully. Where was I? What had happened? I remember groaning feebly,and seeing the two figures quickly turn towards me.
Again all was blank.
The Four Faces: A Mystery Page 28
