CHAPTER III. THE MURDER AT THE SLATE-PITS.
It was late on this same evening. All day long the thunder had beenrumbling and growling, and now the storm seemed close at hand.
I had partly undressed, but it was too hot to get into bed, so I leanedout of my wide-open window, watching the black clouds hanging down fromthe sky, and listening to the rustling of leaves in the wood--sure signof the coming storm.
The air was stifling; and, longing feverishly for the rain, I sat in thedeep window-sill and looked out into the scented darkness, forhoneysuckle and clematis drooped around my window and the garden belowwas overgrown with homely, sweet-smelling flowers.
Suddenly I started. I was quick at hearing, and I had distinctly caughtthe sound of a light, firm step passing down the garden path beneath. Myfirst impulse was to call out, but I checked it when I recognised thetall, graceful figure moving swiftly along the gravel walk in the shadeof the yew-hedge. It was my mother!
I watched her, scarcely believing my eyes. What could she be wanting inthe garden at this hour? And while I sat on the window casement,wondering, a cold shiver of alarm chilled me, for I saw a man creepstealthily out from the wood and hurry across the little stretch ofmeadow towards the garden gate, where she was standing.
The moon was shining with a sickly light through a thick halo of mist andI could only just distinguish the figures of my mother and this man, sideby side, talking earnestly. I watched them with riveted eyes until Iheard a quick step on the floor behind me and a hand was laid upon mymouth, stifling my cry of surprise.
"It's only me, Philip, lad," whispered a hoarse, tremulous voice. "Ididn't want you to call out--that's all. Hast seen anything of thisbefore?" And he pointed, with shaking finger, towards the window, fromwhich he had drawn me back a little.
I looked at him, a great horror stealing over me. His ruddy face wasblanched and drawn, as though with pain; and there was a terrible lightin his eyes. I was frightened and half inclined to cry.
"No," I faltered. "It's only Mr. Francis, isn't it?"
"Only Mr. Francis!" I heard my father repeat, with a groan. "Oh, Alice,lass--Alice! How could you?"
He staggered blindly towards the door. I rushed after him, piteouslycalling him back, but he pushed me off roughly and hurried out.
I heard him leave the house, but he did not go down the garden. Then, ina few minutes, every one of which seemed to me like an hour, the lowvoices at the gate ceased and my mother came slowly up the path towardsthe house.
I rushed downstairs and met her in the hall. She seemed half surprised,half angry, to see me.
"Philip," she exclaimed, "I thought you were in bed long ago! What areyou doing here?"
"I am frightened!" I sobbed out. "Father has been in my room watching youat the gate and he talked so strangely. He is very angry and he looks asthough he were going to hurt someone."
My mother leaned against the wall, every vestige of colour gone from herface, and her hand pressed to her side. She understood better than I didthen.
"Where is he now?" she asked hysterically. "Quick, Philip--quick! Tellme!"
"He is gone," I answered. "He went out by the front door and up theroad."
A sudden calmness seemed to come to her and she stood for a momentthinking aloud.
"He has gone up to the wood gate! They will meet in the wood. Oh, Heaven,prevent it!" she cried passionately.
She turned and rushed into the garden, down the path and through thewicket gate towards the wood. I followed her, afraid to stay alone. Avast mass of inky-black clouds had sailed in front of the moon and thedarkness, especially in the wood, was intense.
More than once I fell headlong down, scratching my face and hands withthe brambles; but each time I was on my feet immediately, scarcelyconscious of the pain in my wild desire to keep near my mother.
How she found her way I cannot tell. Great pieces of her dress were tornoff and remained hanging to the bushes into which she stepped; and manytimes I saw her run against a tree and recoil half stunned by the shock.
But still we made progress, and at last we came to a part of the woodwhere the trees and undergrowth were less dense and there was a steepascent. Up it we ran and when we reached the top my mother paused tolisten, while I stood, breathless, by her side.
Save that the leaves above us were stirring with a curious motion, therewas not a sound in the whole wood. Birds and animals, even insects,seemed to have crept away to their holes before the coming storm. Wecould see nothing, for a thick mantle of darkness--a darkness which couldalmost be felt--had fallen upon the earth. We stood crouched together,trembling and fearful.
"Thank Heaven for the darkness!" my mother murmured to herself. "Philip,"she went on, stooping down and feeling for my hand, "do you know where weare? We should be close to the slate-pits."
I was on the point of answering her, but the words died away on my partedlips. Such a sight as was revealed to us at that moment might have drivena strong man mad.
Although half a lifetime has passed away, I can see it now as at thatmoment. But describe it I cannot, for no words of mine could paint thethrilling beauty and, at the same time, the breathless horror of thescene which opened like a flash before us.
Trees, sky, and space were suddenly bathed in a brilliant, lurid light,the like of which I have never since seen, nor ever shall again. It cameand went in a space of time which only thought could measure; and this iswhat it showed us:--
Yawning at our feet the deep pit and sullen waters of the quarry, for wewere scarcely a single step from the precipitous edge; the huge piles ofslate and the sheds with the workmen's tools scattered around; and myfather, his arms thrown upwards in agony, and a wild cry bursting fromhis lips, at the very moment that he was hurled over the opposite side ofthe chasm!
We saw the frantic convulsions of despair upon his ashen face, his eyesstarting from their sockets, as he felt himself falling into space; andwe saw the dim outline of another man staggering back from the brink,with his hands outstretched before his face, in horror at what he haddone.
Then, as suddenly as it had come, the fierce glare vanished. Theheavens--only a moment before open and flooding the land with sheets ofliving fire--were black and impenetrable, and the crashing thunder shookthe air around and made the earth tremble, as though it were splitting upand the very elements were being dissolved.
With a cry, the heartrending anguish of which will ring for ever in myears, my mother sank down, a white, scared heap; and I, my limbs unstrungand my senses numbed, crouched helpless beside her. Then the rain felland there was silence.
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