The Secret of High Eldersham

by Miles Burton

  Here he rang the bell, which was answered by a parlourmaid. On inquiring for Mr. Hollesley, he was informed that that gentleman was just finishing a late lunch, having only just returned from London. He was shown into the study, where in a few minutes Hollesley joined him.

  “Hallo, Merrion!” exclaimed the latter as he shook hands. “It’s very good of you to look me up like this. I didn’t expect to see you in this part of the world again so soon. As a matter of fact, I’ve only just come back myself. I’ve been in London ever since I saw you last.”

  “I’m on my way to Hunstanton again for a few days, to play golf,” replied Merrion. “Since I had practically to pass your door, I thought I might just as well look in and see if you were at home.”

  “Capital!” said Hollesley heartily. “Look here, your time’s pretty much your own, I suppose? Why don’t you stop here for the night, and go on to-morrow? We could have a quiet yarn this evening.”

  After some demur, Merrion agreed. The necessary arrangements having been made, Hollesley turned once more to his visitor. “I want to go over to the Hall and see the Owertons,” he said. “You know who they are, you saw them at the inquest the other day, and I told you about them at lunch afterwards. You’d better come too; they’re jolly nice people, and I’m sure they’ll be glad to meet you. You’ll find the old boy well worth talking to.”

  They set out together through the grounds of Elder House, until they reached a gate which gave access to the park surrounding the hall. Both estates were bordered by the river, which, after passing by the village, followed a tortuous course towards the sea. It swept in a wide curve round the park, and then bounded the fields belonging to Elder House, finally approaching within a couple of hundred yards of the house. Three miles or so further on, it joined the sea through a gap in the long line of sand-dunes which fringed the coast.

  “We’re next door neighbours, you see,” said Hollesley, as he opened the gate. “There’s the house, you can see it through the trees. It’s not a very big place, but parts of it are very old. I think you’ll agree it’s well worth seeing.”

  They were admitted by an old servant, who, it struck Merrion, did not appear any too pleased to see them. “Sir William is in the library, sir,” he replied, in answer to Hollesley’s inquiry. “Miss Mavis is not at home. I believe she is down by the river.”

  He led the way, almost reluctantly, to the library, and ushered in the visitors. It was a very beautiful room, fully panelled, with a magnificently painted ceiling. It was so full of books that little room remained for furniture. Bookcases stood out at right angles to the walls, leaving narrow passages between them to enable their contents to be reached. Only in front of the fireplace, a magnificent example of ancient ironwork, was there anything like a clear space. And here, in an arm-chair to which a reading-table was affixed, sat Sir William Owerton.

  He rose, as Hollesley and Merrion entered the room, with surprising agility, considering his years. He was certainly a distinguished looking old gentleman, thought Merrion, seeing him thus close at hand. “Ah, so you are back again, Laurence?” he said. “It is very good of you to come over so soon after your return. How did you find your mother when you came back?”

  “Very much as usual,” replied Hollesley. “She seems more cheerful, though, now that the spring is coming on. Let me introduce Mr. Merrion. We were together in the war, but curiously enough never met again until we ran into one another the other day. He happened to be passing when the inquest on that poor chap Whitehead was taking place, and dropped in out of curiosity. I saw him at the back of the room, and that’s why I ran away so suddenly.”

  “I am very glad to meet any friend of Laurence’s,” replied Sir William courteously. “Are you staying in this secluded district of ours for any length of time, Mr. Merrion?”

  “Only until to-morrow, sir,” replied Merrion. “Hollesley has very kindly invited me to spend the night at Elder House. I was greatly interested in that inquest, although I only attended out of curiosity. The verdict was one of murder, I remember. I have kept my eye on the paper for further news, but the case does not appear to have been mentioned. Has any clue been found to the murderer?”

  “I believe not,” replied Sir William. “I do not go out very much, but most of the gossip of the village comes to my ears, one way or another. I am told that there is a detective-inspector from Scotland Yard staying at the Rose and Crown. What progress he has made in the matter, I cannot say.”

  “Staying at the Rose and Crown, is he?” remarked Hollesley. “I wonder how he gets on with old Dunsford, who has come back to take charge of the place temporarily! In my opinion, he’s wasting his time. I’d bet any money that the murderer won’t be found in High Eldersham. They’re primitive folk in these parts, in many ways, but there’s not a man in the place who would commit a brutal murder like that.”

  “I am inclined to agree with you,” said Sir William. “I am of the opinion that the murder was committed by some one passing along the road. Crimes of violence appear to be on the increase, I regret to say.”

  The conversation was interrupted by the entrance of Mavis Owerton. Hollesley rose swiftly and advanced to greet her, but she merely nodded at him and went up to her father. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know until Christy told me just now that he was keeping tea waiting till I came in. I told him to be as quick as he could.”

  “Never mind, my dear, a few minutes more or less do not matter. This is Mr. Merrion, a friend whom Laurence has brought over to see us.”

  “I think I saw you at the inquest the other day, Mr. Merrion,” said Mavis, rather distantly, Merrion thought. His quick wits were at work trying to discover the relations between these people. But at present he was baffled. Sir William was evidently a scholar at heart, with few interests outside his library. Mavis—well, Mavis he could not analyse. She was many-sided as a diamond, her interests covered everything, from the antiquities of the house to the speed-boat which she had just purchased. With one exception, Merrion noticed. In spite of Hollesley’s efforts, he seemed unable to interest her in anything that he had seen or heard in London during the past week. In fact, she barely listened to him, and devoted the greater part of her attention to Merrion. Before very long the two of them were involved in a lively discussion upon boats and their behaviour.

  “You must come down and see this new toy of mine, Mr. Merrion,” she said, as soon as tea was over. “You needn’t worry about leaving father, Laurence can stay and talk to him. It’s quite close, only down at the bottom of the park.”

  “I don’t see why I shouldn’t see it too, Mavis!” exclaimed Hollesley. “Why shouldn’t we all go, Sir William?”

  “I have already inspected this new toy,” replied Sir William. “I cannot say that it holds any great attraction for me.”

  “Father won’t even come for a run in her,” Mavis put in. “You can see her for yourself at any time, Laurence. I want Mr. Merrion to look at her. He’s got ideas about boats. Come on, Mr. Merrion.”

  In spite of the annoyance visible in Hollesley’s face, Merrion rose and followed the girl from the room. She led the way out of the house by a side door, and they were soon walking side by side across the closely cropped turf of the park, Mavis talking animatedly about the boat. It was not for some time that Merrion found the opportunity of making a remark. Then, abruptly he voiced what was in his mind. “I say, Miss Owerton, I don’t think Hollesley was best pleased at being left behind.”

  “Really, Mr. Merrion, you’re a most observant person,” she replied mockingly. “For my part I am quite sure he wasn’t. Laurence isn’t in the habit of hiding his feelings when he’s thwarted. How well do you know him, Mr. Merrion?”

  “Well, I used to know him fairly well once,” replied Merrion, rather taken aback by the question. “That was when we were together during the war. But I lost sight of him after that, and we never met again
till the other day.”

  “When, I suppose, he asked you to come and stay with him as soon as he got back from London?”

  “Well, no. As a matter of fact he did not ask me to stay until I looked in to see him just now, and then only for the night.”

  “Oh, that’s all right!” exclaimed Mavis, with obvious relief. “I was afraid you were some part of his plan. I couldn’t quite make out what part you were to play. That’s why I asked you to come down and see the boat.”

  Merrion laughed heartily. “I assure you, Miss Owerton, that I’m not conspiring with Hollesley in any way. I don’t even know anything about this nefarious plot of his. Has he got one?”

  “I should have thought that it was fairly obvious to any one of your powers of observation,” she replied. “Laurence is determined to marry me, and I’m equally determined not to marry him. I get quite a lot of amusement out of watching him trying to get round father, who would, I’m sure, like to see the young people happy. Between you and me, Mr. Merrion, I think Laurence’s game was to land you with father this afternoon, leaving him free to dance attendance on me. As it is, we’ve managed to get to windward of him. Well, there she is. What do you think of her?”

  They had reached the shores of the river. Moored in the stream, a few paces from the bank, was a squat-looking speed-boat, brightly varnished, with a tiny cockpit just big enough to hold two people. Merrion looked at her appreciatively. His trained eye scanned her lines and the possibilities of speed which they indicated. “Looks as if she could travel,” he remarked.

  “She can!” exclaimed Mavis enthusiastically. “Come on, we’ll go for a run in her. There’s just time before it gets dark. Help me launch the dinghy. That’s right!”

  Almost in spite of himself, Merrion became infected with her enthusiasm. They pushed the dinghy, a frail little prahm, off the mud, and boarded the speed-boat. “I’ll take the helm,” declared Mavis. “I know the river, and you’d probably run her on the mud. We shall have to go downstream, the tide’s running out fast, and there won’t be enough water to get far above the quay at High Eldersham. When the tide’s in, you can go for miles beyond that, up to Elderminster, in fact. It’s a pity you aren’t staying longer, or I would take you up there to-morrow. All right, let go!”

  Merrion cast off the moorings, and with the engine purring softly, the boat shot out into midstream. Mavis steadied her, and then, as she opened the throttle, they tore down the river at full speed in a cloud of spray.

  “I told you she could move!” shouted Mavis, above the now almost deafening roar of the engine. “Look, there’s Elder House already. That five-tonner moored under the bank is Laurence’s. Not a bad craft, but she doesn’t carry enough sail for me. That little sailing dinghy of mine can make rings round her in a breeze.”

  They shot by Hollesley’s little yacht in a flash, and entered a long and comparatively straight reach. The line of the dunes came in sight, and they neared them rapidly, until the entrance of the river opened before them. A slight swell was rolling in over the bar, but the speed-boat rode it like a duck. Within a very few minutes of their departure they were out on the grey waters of the North Sea.

  “Hold on!” cried Mavis. As Merrion clutched the coaming in front of him she turned the wheel over, and the boat swung in a sharp circle, nearly flinging them from their seats. At the same tremendous speed as before they shot in through the entrance and between the muddy banks that bordered the channel, the boat making light of the ebb tide that sluiced out against her. Mavis brought her up to her moorings and switched off the engine. “Now!” she said triumphantly, in the sudden silence. “Isn’t she topping?”

  Merrion gazed at the face of the girl beside him, lighted up with the excitement of the run. “She is!” he replied fervently. But he was thinking rather of the girl than of the boat.

  Mavis turned her head aside quickly. “Get the dinghy alongside, will you, Mr. Merrion?” she said coldly. “We must be getting back; Laurence will wonder what has become of us.”

  They landed and walked up towards the house in a slightly awkward silence. It was not until they had reached the door that Mavis spoke. “I wish you were staying longer, Mr. Merrion,” she said. “We could have gone for a run up the coast.”

  “I should have enjoyed nothing more, Miss Owerton,” replied Merrion meekly.

  They entered the library together, Merrion with a slightly guilty feeling. Hollesley rose as they came in. “It’s time we were getting back, Merrion,” he said curtly. “I have one or two letters to write before dinner.”

  He said good-bye to Sir William, but contented himself with a nod in Mavis’s direction. The two walked back to Elder House, Hollesley curiously unresponsive to Merrion’s attempts at conversation. The former led his guest to the study. “You’ll be all right here, won’t you?” he said. “I’ll send Thorburn in with the whisky. Dinner’s at eight, by the way.”

  And with that he left the room. Merrion could hear him dragging his feet heavily up the staircase, as though a great weariness had suddenly overtaken him.

  Chapter XIII

  Hollesley’s manner did not presage a very cheerful evening. But, greatly to Merrion’s surprise, his host came down to dinner in a more companionable mood than he had ever seen him. He seemed to have undergone a complete transformation. All trace of weariness had left him; the curiously haggard expression which Merrion had noticed during the afternoon had entirely disappeared. His eyes sparkled, and the smallest things seemed to cause him amusement.

  Dinner was consequently a very gay meal. It was excellently cooked, and most deftly served by Thorburn, who once more struck Merrion as the ideal butler. The conversation touched upon a thousand subjects, without either referring to the incidents of the afternoon. It was not until they were seated over a bottle of priceless port—of which, Merrion noticed, Hollesley partook very sparingly—that the latter referred to their visit to the Hall.

  “It was just like Mavis to rush you off like that and take you for a run in that new speed-boat of hers,” he remarked. “She’s like a child with a new toy, and you were somebody fresh to show it to. She’ll soon get tired of it, though. I don’t think much of these fast motor boats myself. They are no use in anything of a breeze, and one would soon get bored with tearing up and down the river. And that’s about all they’re good for, really.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” replied Merrion carelessly. “I should think one might get some very good fun, even on the river. Miss Owerton told me that one could get right up to Elderminster at high water. I expect that there are a good many motor boats kept between here and there, aren’t there?”

  “Not many, so far as I know. Mavis is about the only motor boat enthusiast that I know of in these parts. But then I don’t know much about the river above the quay. I prefer going out to sea in my own little craft—you probably saw her as you passed, if you can see anything going at that pace. Mind you, I consider the marine motor an excellent thing in its proper place. I’ve got an auxiliary motor in my boat, and find it very handy in a calm. But I prefer sailing any day. You must come down some time in the summer, and we’ll have a cruise together.”

  “I’d like nothing better. I don’t know this coast at all well, and I should like to improve my acquaintance of it. If it is all like this, it must be very fascinating. High Eldersham strikes me as being one of the queerest places I have ever seen.”

  Hollesley laughed heartily. “You’re like all town dwellers, Merrion,” he said. “As soon as you come upon a remote and unspoiled piece of country, you immediately describe it as queer. The villagers of High Eldersham would find London just as queer, if they ever went there, which fortunately for them, they don’t. Gippingford is about the limit of their travels. But I’d like to know, as a matter of curiosity, what you find queer about this place.”

  “It’s difficult to define exactly. I admit that I’m a town dweller, but I
can claim to know the English countryside fairly well, for all that. High Eldersham is somehow different from anywhere else I know. One gets the impression that it is a survival from the middle ages.”

  “So, in a sense, it is,” replied Hollesley. “After all, that’s only natural. No main road passes through it, and the nearest railway station, and that a very unimportant one, at which only two or three trains stop, is six miles away. There is no inducement for people from the outside world to come here. High Eldersham is a little community by itself. The inhabitants intermarry between themselves, and it is very rarely indeed that any fresh blood is introduced. I don’t suppose there has been any change in the place since it ceased to be a comparatively flourishing little port, and that is well over a hundred years ago.”

  “Perhaps queer was the wrong adjective,” remarked Merrion. “By gad, Hollesley, this is a wonderful port of yours. I didn’t mean to cast any aspersions upon your native village. Interesting, is really what I meant. It ought to be a happy hunting-ground for those johnnies who amuse themselves hunting up folklore and writing books about it. The place must be full of old customs and superstitions and survivals like that.”

  “I dare say it is,” replied Hollesley indifferently. “Personally, I’m not particularly interested in that kind of thing. Old Owerton is the man to tell you all about that, he’s a regular mine of information upon those subjects. But I don’t fancy that any stranger who came poking round here would learn very much. An oyster isn’t in it for closeness compared with these village folk. You’ve no idea how good they are at playing stupid if you’re trying to find out anything they don’t want to tell you. What do you say to knocking the balls about for a bit? There’s a very decent fire in the billiard room.”