by Tom Gallon
CHAPTER XII.
AN APPOINTMENT WITH DEATH.
It will readily be understood that, by the movements of the variousplayers in the game in which, in a sense, I was merely a pawn, I hadbeen placed in such a position that I was to an extent no longer masterof my own actions. I had been compelled, by the turn of events, to placeDebora in the hands of my uncle, and I knew that at any moment now newsmight come from Green Barn that the girl was gone. I marvelled that thatnews had not arrived ere this.
Upon that latter point the only conjecture I could arrive at was thatthe woman Martha Leach had not yet dared to send her news to BardolphJust, and in that act of cowardice she would probably be supported byHarvey Scoffold. Moreover, I knew that the doctor was too fully occupiedwith his own fears concerning the man Capper to give much attention toanything else.
Nor, on the other hand, did I feel that I had advanced matters asrapidly as I could have wished. True, I had got Debora out of the handsof the doctor and Harvey Scoffold; true again, I had hidden her in thehouse of Uncle Zabdiel. But there the matter stood, and I was relying,in a sense, solely on the help of one whom every instinct taught me todistrust: I mean, of course, Zabdiel Blowfield. Moreover, I was nofurther advanced in regard to any future status on my own account. I hadno prospect of making my way in the world, or of doing anything to helpthe girl I loved. It seemed as though I stood in the midst of a greattangle, twisting this way and that in my efforts to free myself, andgetting more hopelessly involved with each movement.
In my doubts and perplexities I turned naturally to Debora; I may besaid to have haunted that house wherein she lived. Uncle Zabdielappeared to be very friendly, and for two days I came and went as Iliked, seeing Debora often. And even in that short time I came to seethat the deadly old house was having its effect upon the girl, just asit had upon every one that came within its walls; she began to droop,and to wear a frightened look, and not all my reassurances would bringany brightness into her eyes.
"I'm afraid of the place," she whispered the second day, clinging to me."That tall boy creeps about like a ghost----"
"And looks like one," I broke in with a laugh. "He's the best fellow inthe world, is Andrew Ferkoe; you've nothing to fear from him."
"And Mr. Blowfield: he looks at me so strangely, and is altogether soqueer," went on Debora. "Last night he begged me to sit up with him inhis study until quite late--kept on asking me if I didn't hear thisnoise and that, and was I sure that nothing stirred in the shadows inthe corner? I felt at last as if I should go mad if I wasn't allowed toscream."
"My darling girl, it won't be very long now before I'm able to take youaway," I said, more hopefully than I felt. "My uncle's a good fellow, inhis way, but he has lived a lonely life so long that he's not like othermen. Have a little more patience, Debora dear; the sun will shine uponus both before long, and we shall come out of the shadows."
"But there is something else," she said. "I was in my room last night,at the top of the house here, sitting in the dark, thinking. Everythingwas very silent; it was as if all the world lay asleep. And then I saw acurious thing--something that frightened me."
"What was it?" I asked quickly.
"On the other side of the road facing the house is a long wall," shebegan in a whisper, "and just outside the gate, as you know, is alamp-post. From where I sat in my window I could see that the wall waslit up, and across it again and again, while I watched for more than anhour, went two shadows."
"What sort of shadows?" I asked, as lightly as I could; yet I'll own Iwas startled.
"Shadows of men," she replied. "It was evident that they were walking upand down in the road, watching the house. The shadows were curious,because one was a very big one, walking stiffly, while the other wassmall, and seemed to creep along behind the first. And I know whose theshadows were--at least, I know one of them."
"How do you know?" I asked.
"I know the one man was Dr. Just," she answered me confidently, with alittle quick nod.
"My dearest girl, how could you possibly know that?" I asked.
"Because the man walked with an easy stride, and yet his shadow showedonly one arm swinging," she said. "Don't you see what I mean? The otherarm was fastened to him in some way, held close against him."
I whistled softly, and looked into her eyes. "I see," I said; "thatwould be the sling. Now, what in the world has brought him here?"
"He's come to find you," said Debora quickly. "He will have heard fromGreen Barn that I am gone, and that you are gone; he will guess that ifhe finds you he may find me. The reason for his waiting outside would bethat he might intercept you going in or coming out."
"There's something in that," I admitted. "However, of one thing I amcertain in my own mind. Uncle Zabdiel won't give you up, nor will headmit the man into the house if he can avoid it. I'm not taking anystand by Uncle Zabdiel's integrity," I added. "I am only certain that hehas a wholesome dread of me, and will not offend me. Rest easy; nothingwill happen to you, my darling."
Just before my departure I was met by my uncle at the door of his study.He mysteriously beckoned me in, and closed the door. Then, something tomy surprise, he buttonholed me, and pulled me further into the room, andstared up into my face with a pathetic expression of entreaty in hiseyes.
"What's the matter?" I asked.
"My dear boy--my only nephew--I want you to believe that I'm beinghonest with you as far as I can; I don't want you to judge me hastily,"he began. "People get such wrong notions in their heads, and you mighthear something that would bring you rushing back here, and would leaveme no time for explanation. Will you believe what I'm going to tellyou?"
He was fumbling me all over. I saw that he had been troubled bysomething, and that his dread of me had been strongly revived. I wasplaying for too great a stake then to make the blunder of being smoothwith him. I frowned and folded my arms, and looked down at him sternly.
"Come, out with it!" I said.
"There, now you're beginning to lose your temper before ever I've begunto say a word," he said, backing away from me. "Do be reasonable!"
"I don't know what the word is yet," I answered him. "Let's hear it."
"Well, to put it briefly, that woman Leach has been here." He blurtedout the words, and stood looking at me as though wondering how I shouldtake the news.
"Well, what then?" I asked him gravely. "What did you do?"
"Everything you would have wished me to do," he replied quickly. "I toldher nothing; I sent her away again."
"Did she enquire about me, or about Debora?" I asked.
"About you first, and then about Debora," he whispered. "But, oh, I puther off the scent. I was sharp with her. I asked what sort of man shetook me to be, to admit any minx to my house. And she went away, knowingnothing."
"That's good, and I'm very grateful to you," I assured him, now feelingthat I could give him all my confidence. "They'll leave no stoneunturned to get hold of the girl."
"They?" He looked at me questioningly.
"Yes, the woman as well as her master. I have just heard that Dr. Justhas been seen hanging about outside the house late last night, withanother man."
I saw his face blanch, I saw him moisten his lips with his tongue andclutch with one feeble hand at the back of his chair. I took noparticular notice of that, although long after I wished I had done; Iknew how easily startled he was.
"You say that two men--two men watched this house last night, verylate?" he muttered.
"Yes," I answered carelessly. "And one of them at least--this BardolphJust--will stick at nothing to get what he wants. He's of the sort thatsnaps his fingers at a small matter of death."
My Uncle Zabdiel twisted the chair round with a nervous movement, andsank into it. I saw that he was trembling from head to foot. He seemedto be brooding heavily upon something. Looking at him, I caught his eyesmore than once wandering covertly in my direction.
"And you think that he would do anything to get hold of this girl?" heasked.<
br />
"There is not only the girl to be considered by him, but the very largefortune which belongs to her, and which he also wishes to get hold of. Itell you he will stick at nothing," I assured him earnestly.
"He will stick at nothing!" he echoed, drawing a deep breath.
"By the way, Uncle Zabdiel, have you been troubled with that dream ofyours again?" I asked carelessly.
To my surprise he started to his feet with what was almost a cry. "No,no! why should I dream that again?" he stammered, staring at me."Haven't I tried to forget it--haven't I persuaded myself that I hadforgotten it. Oh, dear God! that these things should be sent to troublea poor old man who has done his best always for everybody!" he moaned."There, there--go away; leave me alone! I want time to think--or rathertime not to think."
I went away and left him, closing the door after me. Just as I reachedthe hall door I came upon that tall youth, Andrew Ferkoe. He grinnedamiably. A sudden thought occurring to me, I drew him aside, andwhispered to him--
"Look here," I said, "I believe you're a friend of mine, aren't you?"
"Rather!" he said. "You're so wonderful; you've seen such things, anddone such things."
"Never mind about that," I said hastily. "I want you to promise to cometo me, if you think Miss Matchwick is in any danger, or if you thinkanyone is plotting against her. See, here is my address"--I scribbledit on a scrap of paper and thrust it into his hands--"and I shall relyupon you to be faithful, to her as well as to me. Will you?"
He seemed quite elated at his commission. "Do you really trust me?" heasked gleefully. "I'd do anything for you, and for her. I feel somehowthat I'm getting braver and stronger. I shan't put up much longer withold Blowfield's bullying. I feel sometimes when I look at him that Icould do murder!"
I laughed as I went out of the house. The idea of this weak-kneed, lankyyouth, of all others, "doing murder" seemed too ridiculous. I went on myway feeling pretty well satisfied with the turn of events, and firmlyconvinced that the very fears under which Uncle Zabdiel laboured werethe greatest safeguard Debora and I could have. Moreover, I had gainedone other friend in that strange house, and that was Andrew Ferkoe.
My lodging was in a little house not very far, as you may have guessed,from that house belonging to Uncle Zabdiel in which Debora had soopportunely found shelter. On this particular evening I was in no hurryto retire to the one little room I had rented. On a sudden impulse Imade up my mind that I would linger a little while in the neighbourhood,and would see, if possible, for myself whether or not those two shadowson the wall really belonged to the doctor and to William Capper. So Itook up my station not very far from the house, but in a position fromwhich I could observe it easily; and there I waited.
I will not describe my long wait, nor the shadows I saw, which mighthave been the shadows of the doctor and Capper, but which were not. Iwas disappointed fifty times at least, felt my heart jump as many timeswhen two men, or even one man, came anywhere in my direction, orhappened by the merest chance to glance towards that house. I had notfully made up my mind what to do should either man put in an appearance,and indeed I was saved the trouble of putting into execution any plan Imight have evolved, by reason of the fact that no one I knew came nearthe house.
Once, it is true, from where I watched, I saw an upper window open, andthe head of Uncle Zabdiel, like some extremely ugly gargoyle, obtrudeitself into the night. I guessed, with an inward chuckle, that he mightbe looking for those shadows for which I also was on the watch. But soonafterwards that window was closed, and the house was wrapped in silenceand darkness. I kept my vigil until something towards three in themorning, and then went off to my lodging. In five minutes I wasundressed and in bed; the rest was a dreamless sleep.
Lest I should be watched, I determined that I would not go near ZabdielBlowfield's house in daylight, or without taking due precautions. Ithought it possible that the woman Martha Leach might make a furtherattempt, for the sake of her master, to discover something about me orabout Debora. I determined that I would not play into their hands. Iremembered what Bardolph Just had said about going abroad; I had greathopes that he might carry that into effect, and so rid us all of hispresence. Perhaps in a saner moment I reflected that he was scarcely thetype of man to give up the game so lightly; but then when one is in loveone is usually optimistic. However, there was nothing for it but towait, and to possess my soul in patience.
I was taking things very easily indeed that evening, lounging in thewindow of my room, and smoking, and looking at the early stars that werepeeping out above me, when I became aware of a strange-looking figurecoming slowly up the deserted little street. Without troubling very muchabout it, I became interested in the figure, which was that of a tall,ungainly young man, whose face and head, from my elevated position, werehidden by a hat which appeared to be many sizes too large for him. Hewas craning his neck this way and that, apparently looking for someparticular house; every now and then he referred to a scrap of paperwhich he held in his fingers. I was watching him idly, when all at onceI woke from my half-dream and started to my feet; with my hands leaningon the window-sill I stared down at him intently.
At that same moment he happened to look up towards me and I recognisedhim. It was Andrew Ferkoe. I waved my hand, and nodded to him, and withevery extravagant sign of precaution he looked to right and to left, andthen came to the door of the house. I ran down and admitted him myself;then I took him up to my room before permitting him to say a word. Oncein the room, with the door shut, I saw to my horror that he was shakingfrom head to foot, and was alternately slapping his breast, and strivingto get some words out.
"What's the matter?" I asked. "Take your time about it; there's nothingto get excited about."
He gasped again in that inarticulate fashion once or twice; then heblurted out his message.
"She--she's gone!"
I pushed him into a chair and stood over him, with my hands on my hips,striving by my own steadiness to put some steadiness into him. For atime he only moaned, and shook his head and gaped at me, but at last, bydint of threats and even some coaxing, I got his story out of him.
"Early this morning old Blowfield sent me with a telegram addressed to aDr. Just; it was written out on a piece of paper, and I had to copy itat the post-office. It was addressed to Dr. Just at a house inHighgate.
"Well, well, what did it say?" I asked impatiently.
"I'm coming to it as fast as I can," said Andrew Ferkoe resentfully."You forget I ain't used to this sort of thing. It simply said, 'Come atonce; can give you news of the runaway,' and it was signed 'Z.Blowfield,' with the address."
I strangled an oath in my throat; I vowed that Uncle Zabdiel should paydearly for his treachery. "And what happened after that?" I demanded.
"About mid-day a tall, dark man drove up in a great hurry and asked forold Blowfield--at least, he asked for Mr. Blowfield," went on Ferkoe. "Iwas turned out of the room, but they talked together for a long time.Then the bell was rung, and I was told to go and find the young lady,and tell her she was wanted. After she'd gone into the room I did whatI'd never done before," he added with a chuckle. "I listened outside."
"Good lad!" I murmured.
He went on again, seemingly elated at my praise of him. "They kept ontalking, all three of them, and I heard the young lady say over and overagain, 'I won't! I won't!' and the dark man kept on threatening, andsaying what he would do, and old Blowfield kept on telling her that itwas for the best, and that she'd better go back, though I don't know inthe least where he meant her to go. The door was open just the leastlittle bit, and I saw and heard everything, because old Blowfield wouldnever dream that I should dare to do a thing like that."
"You're very slow!" I cried impatiently. "Tell me what happened then;what did the young lady do? Did she refuse to leave the house?"
"Yes, she kept on saying she wouldn't. And I'm being as fast as I can,only there's such a lot to tell. I should get on faster if you weren'tso impatient."
I s
ubdued my wrath as best I could. I decided to let him go on in hisown fashion.
"And then the funniest thing happened," he said, sitting upright in hischair in his excitement, and staring at me round-eyed. "The darkman--Dr. Just, I suppose--began to spread out his hands--like this"--hemade a curious fluttering movement with his hands before my face, sogrotesque a movement that I should have laughed under any othercircumstances--"and began to talk in a very low, smooth voice to theyoung lady. At first she cried out to him to keep away from her, andcovered up her face with her hands, but after a time she dropped thehands and stared at him. I saw her drop down into a chair and shut hereyes. He never left off talking; he seemed to be telling her somethingshe was to do. He spoke so softly that I couldn't catch everything, buthe said something about a carriage, and about four o'clock in theafternoon. Then suddenly he clapped his hands, and she jumped up, andlooked at him as if she was frightened."
"You dolt!" I shouted, shaking him. "This devilish business happened atmid-day, and here's night, and you've only just arrived to tell thetale."
"It wasn't my fault," he whimpered. "You ought to know what that houseis like; I'm watched every minute. I tried over and over again to slipout, and couldn't; I only managed it, as it was, after it got dark. I'vedone my best."
"I beg your pardon," I said penitently. "I'm quite sure you have. Nowtell me what else happened."
"Dr. Just went away, and the young lady went off to her room. I wentback to work, and old Blowfield kept on walking up and down the room,and muttering to himself. Once he stopped, in order to ask me about you.He wanted to know if I'd seen you."
"Yes, I should think he would want to know that!" I muttered between myteeth.
"He said if you came near the house I wasn't to let you in; I was to gofor the police, or do something else to keep you away. Above all, I wasto give him warning, so that he could lock himself in somewhere."
I laughed grimly. I knew that I had already secured the allegiance ofthis poor warder, and could get at my man when I wanted to do so. Iurged him to go on with his tale.
"Then, just as four o'clock was striking, and I was working, oldBlowfield gave me an awful fright; he suddenly put his hand on myshoulder and whispered in my ear. 'Do you hear that?' he said; and Iwondered what he meant. And then I heard someone coming downstairs,singing as they came."
I could scarcely contain myself, but I determined I would wait for theend. In his excitement Andrew Ferkoe had risen to his feet, and wasstaring at me in the wildest fashion.
"Old Blowfield went to the door and opened it, and I had a look out,too. And there was the young lady," he went on, lowering his voice,"going along the hall, and taking not the slightest notice of anybody.She opened the door, and left it open; she walked across the garden; sheopened the gate, and left that open. Old Blowfield and me walked afterher, never so much as saying a word. There was a carriage waiting at thegate, and she got into it and shut the door; then the carriage droveaway. And all the time she had never said a word. Old Blowfield laughed,and shut the door, and went back to his room, and I went back too. Andthat's the end of it."
I sank down into a chair, and hid my face in my hands, and gave myselfup to my own bitter thoughts. What power had I against such arts asthese? What could I do, when a man could so steal the very soul out of awoman and make her do his bidding in this fashion? What might not havehappened in all these hours during which I, drugged into a falsesecurity, had stayed in this place, doing nothing but dream dreams? Isprang to my feet at last, for I felt that this was no time for idledreaming. The time had come for action, and I would step now into thematter, with no thought for myself, or for what might happen to me. Itmust be Debora first, and Debora always; I would save her, if I dippedmy hands in blood to do it.
"What are you going to do?" asked Andrew, staring at me.
"I don't know yet," I answered him. "It depends on whether I can getwhat I want by peaceful means; I'm going to try that first. After that,I'm going to surprise certain friends of ours--give them such ashaking-up as they'll remember to the end of their days."
"And what are you going to do to old Blowfield?" he asked; and I thoughtI saw in his face that he would relish anything that might happen to hismaster.
"What I'm going to do to old Blowfield, as you call him, won't bearthinking about," I said. "Now, I don't want you to get into trouble;you'd better cut off. I'm very grateful to you; I'm sorry if I seemedimpatient. Good-night!"
He gripped my hand, and went downstairs. I followed him and let him outinto the silent street; saw him flutter off round the corner like along, awkward ghost. Then I closed the door and went upstairs again.
I own I was puzzled what to do. My own crude methods had failedhitherto; I must, if possible, meet subtlety with subtlety. Of what usewas it for me to induce Debora to come willingly to me, if all my planscould be upset in a moment by Dr. Just, as they had been this day? Yet Iknew that I must first go to that house in which she was imprisoned; mybusiness with Zabdiel Blowfield could wait, I told myself fiercely.
I got a tram down to Highgate, cursing its slowness all the way; and soat last stood outside the house, not having yet made up my mind what todo. I opened the gate cautiously, and went into the grounds. I saw thatthe house, so far as the front, at least, was concerned, was indarkness. I knew that it would be madness to attempt to obtainadmittance in the usual fashion; I determined to break into the house,as I had done once before.
I was on the very point of selecting my window, when I heard a rustlingamong the leaves close to me; I drew back and waited. There came intosight out of the shadows William Capper; but not the William Capper Iseemed to have known. For this man stood alert and ready, and the face Isaw in the light of the stars was the keen, watchful face I hadsurprised before. He seemed to be waiting for something; he, too, waswatching the house. Determined to put the matter to the test, I steppedout quickly from my hiding-place and confronted him.
The instant change in the man was surprising; but this time it did notdeceive me. I gripped the now drooping figure by the shoulder and shookhim. He looked up at me with that vacant smile on his face, but saidnothing.
"What's the game, Capper?" I asked quickly in a whisper. "Why are youpretending you don't understand things, and can't remember things? Ihate this man Just, quite as much as you do; why won't you confide inme?"
For a moment I thought he was going to do so; he kept very still undermy grip, and I knew that he was thinking the matter over carefully. Itwas almost as though I could see into his mind. But a moment later heseemed to come to some resolution; he looked up quickly, and shook hishead, with that lost look again in his eyes.
"I don't understand," he whispered. "I don't remember."
"Yes, you do," I retorted roughly. "You're as sane as I am; and you'vegot some purpose in your mind--and I can guess what it is."
"You frighten me, sir," he said in a whisper. "I am old and feeble, andI have forgotten so many things. Please let me alone."
He did it so well, that for a moment I believed that I had not seen thatchange in him; at all events, I saw that I could do nothing with him,and I watched him as he drifted away among the trees and was lost to mysight. Then I turned my attention to the house.
But I found that every door and every window was strongly fastened andshuttered; evidently they had been expecting a visit from me. I hadnothing with which I could effect an entrance, so that I merely ragedround the place, in a futile fashion, in the darkness, wondering what Ishould do. Every now and then I thought I caught sight of the manCapper, dodging about in the shadows; but even of that I could not besure. At last, in desperation, I went to the big hall-door and boldlyrang the bell.
I waited for a long time, while I heard slight movements within thehouse; then there was a whispering behind the closed door. I had made upmy mind that the moment that door was opened I would force my way in, atwhatever risk. I prepared to rush the citadel now, by drawing back alittle, where no light could reach me as the door
was opened, so that Icould force anyone who had answered my ringing to peer out. While Iwaited, I was certain that I saw Capper waiting, too, a few yards away.
My ruse succeeded. The door was opened a little way, and the voice ofMartha Leach demanded to know who was there; then there was morewhispering, and the door was opened a little further, and Martha Leachstepped out under the porch. I made one leap at her, and caught her inmy arms; and before she quite knew what was happening, had literallyrolled with her into the hall, keeping a tight clutch of her. In theconfusion someone slammed the door, and I put my back against it.
I saw that it would be a matter of three to one, at the least, eventhough one of the three was partly disabled. The doctor had backed awayas he saw us come flying in, and I think it must have been HarveyScoffold who shut the door. I blurted out at once what I had to say.
"There's a young lady here--Miss Matchwick--detained against her will.Where is she?"
"Turn that fellow out!" shouted the doctor. "Two of you ought to be ableto manage him, I should think. Turn him out!"
Now, it is a most undignified thing to be tackled by a woman; yet I ambound to confess that in the rough and tumble that ensued, Martha Leachdid more than her full share. Bardolph Just had run back into the house,and had set a bell ringing; a couple of men-servants came rushing up. Idid not want to hit the woman; but I longed for one blow at HarveyScoffold, and as a matter of fact I contrived to get one or two reallyserviceable ones in on his rotund person. But by this time, while wewere all scrambling about together, and while I was raising my voice inrepeated shouts of "Debora," in the hope that I might attract herattention, the woman had literally wound herself about me, so that Iwas powerless. The door was pulled open, and this time we tumbled outinstead of in. And as Martha dexterously released me only when I wasoutside, and contrived to trip me up very neatly down the steps, she wasinside again, and the door closed, before I could get to my feet. Then Iheard the bolts shooting into place, and knew that the victory was withthem.
I had a mind to set the bell ringing again, in the hope to force them toopen the door. But I had the good sense to understand that I shouldserve no good purpose in that way; I should, in all probability, bringsome night policeman down upon me, when explanations would be difficult.For after all, on the face of it, you cannot very well demand that ayoung lady shall be fetched out at night from the house of ahighly-respectable guardian by a stranger who can give no really goodaccount of himself. And that, as you will acknowledge, was exactly theposition of affairs.
Baffled, I went away again, and was fortunate enough to be able to getback to Barnet in the same fashion as before. You may imagine my frameof mind by the time I got to Uncle Zabdiel's house; I was in a state ofungovernable fury. I marched into the garden, and rang the bellviolently, and waited. After a minute or two, during which I hadrepeated the summons, I heard a window raised above me, and, looking up,saw Uncle Zabdiel's wicked old head looking out. All about me was veryquiet, for the house stood somewhat retired from an unfrequented road,and I could hear his voice distinctly.
"Who is it? What do you want?" he demanded.
"I want to come in," I said, stepping back a little from the door sothat he could see me. "You know me, Uncle Zabdiel."
"I should think I do," he sneered. "Do you think I should be foolenough to let you in--you wild beast!--you bully!--I've too great a carefor my own safety for that."
"You'd better let me in quietly," I warned him.
"I won't--I won't!" he almost shouted. "I mean to protect myself. AndI'll tell you something else, my young friend," he went on, leaningfurther out of the window, and shaking a fist at me. "I've made up mymind to see you comfortably put away again."
"Indeed?" I retorted, "and how are you going to manage that?"
"I've written to the authorities, telling them that if they come hereto-morrow night I can give them a full and true account of a certainconvict called Norton Hyde, supposed to be buried in Penthouse Prison,but really very much alive. Put that in your pipe and smoke it! I'vecooked your goose, my boy, and I shall sleep peaceful o' nights infuture."
He slammed down the window, leaving me standing in the darkness,thinking long thoughts. I saw that it was as hopeless for me to get inhere as it had proved to be at the house of Bardolph Just; I wentsorrowfully out of the gate, realising that all was over. As I turnedinto the road, I almost cannoned against a man who seemed to be loungingthere. He turned away his face quickly, and although for a moment I hada feeling that it was a face that was familiar to me, the thought merelyflitted through my mind for a moment, and was gone as the man lurchedaway. I saw that he was dressed roughly, like a labouring man.
You may be sure that I did not sleep that night. I paced my room,wondering what I should do; I varied that only by seating myself at thewindow, and staring out at the sky, telling myself over and over againthat all I had striven to do had come to naught. To-morrow the truestory would be told to the world; to-morrow Norton Hyde would be ahunted man again, with three or four people interested in his capture,who would know all his movements, and could supply a dozen clues towardsfinding him. It was impossible for me to do anything to help Debora,because Bardolph Just's house would be one of the first places to bewatched, if it came to a hunt for me. I was done.
And then it was that I came to a desperate resolution. I was homelessand hopeless, and I had failed; I determined that I would keep theappointment that night, and would meet those who were to see my uncle. Iwould give myself up to the authorities, and so end the miserablebusiness by going back to my prison. There was nothing else for it; Ifelt that it was far better to close the matter once and for all time.
I got to Uncle Zabdiel's house after darkness had set in. Just as Iturned into the road leading to it, I saw two men, respectably dressedin dark clothing, and with bowler hats, going along in front of me; myheart gave a little jump, for I thought I knew their errand. They cameto the gate in the wall and opened it. I had determined by this timethat I would waste no time, and so I came up with them as they passedinto the garden. One of them turned and looked at me.
"What do you want, sir?" he asked.
"I've come to see Mr. Blowfield," I replied; for I had made up my mindto see the matter out in my uncle's presence.
The man said nothing, but joined his companion, who was standing beforethe door of the house, and who had just rung the bell. There was noanswer to the summons, and after a time he tugged at the bell-pullagain. In moving to do this he made a discovery.
"Why, the door's open," he murmured; then he pushed it, and stepped intothe dark hall.
"Hadn't you better call out?" said the other man.
The first man lifted his voice, and called out sharply, "Mr. Blowfield!Mr. Blowfield!"
His voice echoed in a dreary fashion through the house, and seemed tocome back at us. The first man had by this time touched a shelf whichstood in the hall, and on which was a lamp. Looking about him sharplywhile he did so, he dexterously got a light and lit the lamp; then, witha glance at his companion, he stepped into the room which was thedining-room. It was empty.
I followed them from that room into the study, which again was empty.Then the first man, still carrying the lamp, after muttering somethingto his companion which I did not hear, began to ascend the stairs. I wasthe last of the trio, and I suddenly heard the first man cry out in anexcited voice.
"Here, catch hold of this!" he exclaimed, passing the lamp down to theother man. "There's been an accident!"
I pressed forward then, and looked. Lying prone upon the staircase, withhis head and shoulders hanging down over the top stairs, lay UncleZabdiel. Beside him was a heavy stick--that stick with which he had oncethreatened me--and his head and face were cruelly beaten in. Whoever hadkilled him had not been able to bear the sight of him afterwards, forthe clothes from his bed had been dragged out of the room and pulledacross him.
Uncle Zabdiel's dream had come true.
