Mr. Marx's Secret

by E. Phillips Oppenheim

  CHAPTER XII. A DARK CORNER IN THE AVENUE.

  Far away below me--for Ravenor Castle stood on the highest point in thecountry--a dull-red glow in the sky, and many twinkling lights stretchedfar and wide, marked the place where a great town lay. On my right handwas a smooth stretch of green turf, dotted all over with thickly growingspreading oak trees. On the left was a straggling plantation, bounded bya low greystone wall, which sloped down gradually to one of thebracken-covered, disused slate-quarries, with which the neighbourhoodabounded.

  Breathless, I stood still and looked searchingly around. Save in theimmediate vicinity, the fast falling night had blotted out the view,reducing fields, woods, and rocks to one blurred chaotic mass. But wheremy eye could pierce the darkness I could see no sign of any movingobject. By degrees my apprehension grew less strong. The cry, if it hadnot been wholly a trick of the imagination, must have been the cry ofsome animal. I drew a long breath of relief and moved forward again.

  Immediately in front of me the avenue curved through a small plantationof fir trees, which, growing thick and black on either side, made itappear almost as though I were confronted with a tunnel; around its mouththe darkness was intense, but my eyesight, always good, had by this timebecome quite accustomed to the uncertain light, and just as I wasentering it I fancied that I could see something moving only a few yardsin front of me. I stopped short at once and waited, peering forwards intothe gloom with straining eyes and beating heart. My suspense, thoughkeen, was not of long duration, for almost immediately the dark shaperesolved itself into the figure of a man moving swiftly towards me.

  My first impulse was, I am afraid, to turn and run for it, my next togive the advancing figure as wide a berth as possible. With that idea Istepped swiftly on one side and leaned right back against the ring fencewhich bordered the drive. But I was too late, or too clumsy in mymovements, to escape notice. With a quick, startled exclamation, the manwhom I had nearly run into stopped and, just at that moment the moon,which had been struggling up from behind a thick mass of angry clouds,shone feebly out and showed me the white, scared face of Mr. Ravenor'ssecretary.

  "Good heavens!"

  It seemed to me as though the ejaculation was hurled out from thosetrembling lips. Then, with a sudden start, he recovered himself, and sochanged was his manner that I could almost have fancied that his firstemotion of terror had been imagination on my part.

  "Am I so formidable that you should leap out of my way as though you hadseen a ghost?" he said, with a short laugh. "Come, come; a young man ofyour size should have more pluck than that."

  I felt rather ashamed of myself, but I answered him as carelessly aspossible.

  "I don't think I was any more startled than you were. We came upon oneanother suddenly, and it's a very dark night."

  "Dark! Dark is not the word. This part of the drive is a veritableHades."

  "By-the-bye, Mr. Marx," I remarked, "I fancied that I heard a cry a fewmin----"

  "A cry! What sort of a cry?" he interrupted sharply, in an altered tone.

  "Well, it sounded to me very much like the moan of a man in pain," Iexplained, looking half fearfully around. "Of course, it might have beena hare, but it was wonderfully like a human voice. Listen! Can't you hearsomething now?" I cried, laying my hand upon his arm.

  We stood close together in silence, listening intently. A faint wind hadsprung up, and was sighing mournfully through the trees, which weresoaked and weighed down by the heavy rain. Drip, drip, drip. At everysigh of the breeze a little shower of rain-drops fell pattering on to thesoddened leaves and the melancholy music was resumed.

  It was altogether very depressing and I was palpably shivering.

  "I can hear nothing," he said, with chattering teeth. "It must have beenyour fancy, or a hare squealing, perhaps."

  "I suppose so," I admitted, glad enough to be forced into thisconclusion.

  "I wouldn't say anything about it at the lodge," he remarked, preparingto depart. "Anderson is as nervous as a cat already."

  "All right, I won't. Good night."

  "You're not frightened, are you?" he asked. "If you like, I'll walk downto the lodge with you."

  "Not in the least, thanks," I answered, a little indignantly. "I thoughtthat noise was queer, that's all. Good night."

  I walked swiftly away, listening all the time, but hearing no unusualsound. In a few minutes I reached the gates and found Anderson waitingabout outside. He let me through at once.

  "May I go in here for a minute?" I asked, pointing to the room in which Ihad been kept waiting on my way up to the Castle. "I have a message togive you from Mr. Ravenor."

  "Certainly, sir," he answered, opening the door. I stepped inside, halfexpecting to see the man whom Mr. Ravenor had refused to receive; but itwas quite empty.

  "So Mr. Richards has decided not to wait, after all?" I remarked, lookinground. "He was wise. I'm sure Mr. Ravenor wouldn't have seen him."

  "Yes, sir," the man answered; "he slipped out without leaving any messageor anything, while I had gone across the way for some coal. I was a bittaken aback when I returned and found the place empty, for he'd beenswearing ever so a minute or two before that he'd see Mr. Ravenor, orstop here for ever."

  "He can't have gone on up to the Castle, can he?" I asked, lookingaround.

  The man shook his head confidently.

  "Impossible, sir! The gates were locked and the keys in my pocket, andthere are no windows to this room, you see, on the Castle side."

  "But there is a door," I said, pointing to the upper end of theapartment.

  "Go and look at it, sir," Anderson answered, smiling.

  I did so and examined it closely. There were no bolts, but it wasfastened with a particularly strong patent lock.

  "Who keeps the key?" I inquired.

  "Mr. Ravenor, sir. I haven't got one at all. You were saying somethingabout a message?"

  "Yes. Mr. Ravenor was annoyed with you for letting Lady Silchesterthrough, but he has decided to overlook it this time. You need not go upto the Castle for your money."

  The man was evidently pleased.

  "I'm sure I'm very much obliged to you, sir," he said warmly. "That'sgood news and no mistake. It isn't a place that one would care to lose."

  "Well, good night, Anderson. Oh, I say," I added, turning back on asudden impulse, "how long is it since Mr. Marx was here?"

  Anderson looked puzzled.

  "Mr. Marx, sir! Why, I haven't seen him all day!"

  "What!" I exclaimed.

  "I haven't seen him all day. He hasn't been here," the man repeated.

  I stood still, breathless, full of swiftly rising but vague suspicions.

  "Not seen him to-day! Why, I met him in the avenue just now," I declared.

  "I daresay, sir," the man remarked quietly. "He often walks down thisway. In fact, he does most evenings before dinner. Queer sort he is, andno mistake."

  The man's words changed the current of my thoughts, and my half-conceivedsuspicions faded away almost before they had gathered shape. I made sometrifling remark and started homewards.