Читать книгу The Lonely Bride - Fred M. White - Страница 11

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Grace's sudden cry was quite lost upon the little man with the pencil. He was deeply engrossed with the work now, it was obvious that with proper training he might have been a capable artist. The lines were somewhat thin and feeble, but surely and slowly there grew on the paper the outline of old Water Priory, the house which had been occupied by the Grahams up to about a century ago. Now it was no more than a roofless ruin, a great part of the walls had fallen in, and all that remained was thickly covered with ivy. A great crime had taken place there over a hundred years ago, wherein, in a fit of jealousy, the Graham of the time had killed his wife and drowned himself in the pool close to the house. Old Water Priory was a picturesque spot in the daytime, with its half-empty moat and a great belt of dark firs about it, but not for a king's ransom would any villager have dared to approach it after dark. Grace for the life of her could not see any connection between the ruin and the message that "Poor Billy" was obviously attempting to convey to her.

He looked up with a smile on his face as if he felt that he had accomplished his task.

"You poor creature," Grace said sympathetically. "I wish I could only understand what you are driving at. And yet I know you are doing your best to tell me something."

Billy smiled and nodded as if he perfectly understood what Grace was talking about. Her face clouded again, and Billy looked as if he was going to weep. He bent in a despairing kind of way over the paper, then a queer, croaking cry escaped him. On the top of the picture he proceeded to draw a circle, to which he pointed with his fore-finger, and frowned grotesquely as he noted Grace's blank face. It was as if he were the teacher and she were the pupil for the time being. Once more the smile flashed out on the idiot's face as inspiration came to him. In the centre of the circle he proceeded to draw the rough outline of a human face. His eyes said now as plainly as words could speak that if Grace did not understand this he would have to abandon the task altogether. Grace laid her hand upon his ragged shoulder and patted it approvingly. She had grasped the meaning now.

"Good little man," she said. "I see that is meant to represent the moon. It is quite evident to me that I am to see something of importance or discover something dreadful at old Water Priory during the time of the full moon. Wait a moment."

Billy seemed to understand quite as well as if he had ears to hear all that Grace was saying. She came back from the library presently with a copy of 'Whittaker's Almanac' in her hand. Rapidly she fluttered over the leaves till she came to the place she was looking for. It was just as she had expected.

"We are getting on quite famously, Billy," she smiled. "We know all about the Priory now, and all about the full moon. According to 'Whittaker,' the moon is at the full at 11 o'clock to-night. I think that is all that we want to know."

But Billy seemed to be fogged again; he had a lingering doubt as to whether or not he had conveyed anything to Grace. She tried in vain to make him understand, until at length a happy thought came to her. She took the pencil from Billy's resolute fingers and made a little sketch of herself walking in the direction of the Priory, and obviously searching for something. The frog-like croak shot from Billy's throat again, and he snapped his fingers in great delight. He quite understood now that Grace had promised to visit the old Priory in the light of the full moon. Then his face changed entirely, the vacant idiotic look came back to him, and he shuttled with his usual crab-like motion in the direction of the door. Grace would have detained him, and loaded him up with the good things of the table, only Billy had vanished.

Then Grace went to her own room to think it all out. The more she debated the matter the more disturbed did she become. She knew, of course, from gossip the kind of life that poor Billy usually led. He depended entirely for his daily food upon the charity of the villagers; he occasionally earned a few pence by carrying letters to well-known people. In the winter time he slept in some barn or other, but in summer nothing could keep him from the open air, and his resting-place was in the fields. Like a great many of his class, he was a light sleeper, and wandered about half the night, generally in search of birds' eggs, of which he was passionately fond. It occurred to Grace now that Billy must have seen something the night before, or he would never have ventured to intrude himself at the bank house.

Many a time and oft had Grace tried to induce him to come into the house, but always in vain. The mere suggestion of a room or anything with a whole roof over it seemed to scare away what small wits Billy possessed. Still, his feeble intellect was stronger than he had credit for. The drawing of the picture showed that; the introduction of the full moon was quite clever. By this time Grace had thoroughly made up her mind what to do. She called her maid and bade the latter close the door quietly behind her.

"I am going to take you into my confidence, Helen," she said. "Of course, you have heard all this miserable business about Mr. Graham? You know he has disappeared?"

"And very sorry to hear it I am, miss," Helen said. "I do hope nothing has happened to him. Such a nice gentleman——"

"Never mind that," Grace said impatiently. "I have every reason to believe that Mr. Graham has been the victim of foul play. I do not want to say anything about that yet, because the time is not yet ripe for disclosures. I have had information to-night from a most unexpected quarter. I am going out, Helen. I want you to stay here and wait till I return, keeping the window open so that you can hear when I call you. Do you understand?"

Helen nodded in open-mouthed amazement. The idea of her mistress going out at this time of the evening seemed past comprehension.

"Going out alone miss," she protested, "and at this time of night, too? Why if anybody happened to see you——"

"I am going out alone," Grace said resolutely. "I propose to start in about a quarter of an hour, as I want to be at the old Priory by 11 o'clock. I tell you this so that you may know where I have gone to if anything happens to me."

"I would not go there at this time of the night for all the money in the world," Helen said with a shudder. "If your father only knew, it would be as much as my place is worth——"

"But he must not know," Grace whispered. "Nobody must know. You are never to speak of this to a soul. All you have to do is to stay here till I return and let me in."

"But surely you will let me come along with you, miss?" Helen asked. "Frightened as I am of that place, I could not let you go alone. It seems such a terrible thing to do."

"I must go alone," Grace said firmly, "and you must stay here and let me in when I return. All the lights will be out presently and the house locked. If you did not remain behind how could I get in? Now, get me out a dark coat and hat and help me on with a thick pair of shoes. Don't stand there any longer."

It was useless for Helen to protest any longer, and she hastened to do the bidding of her mistress. It was nearly half an hour later that Grace stole away from the house by the side door at the back of the drive and made her way into the road. It was close upon eleven now, and as Grace had some little way to go she stepped out briskly. There was nothing to try her courage yet, for though the road was deserted it was brilliantly flooded with moonlight. Grace could see the mists rising from the river and covering the country like great sheets of still water, out of which the trees rose in the semblance of a forest of masts towering over some huge navy. Away behind the shoulder of the hill she could just catch a glimpse of the ruined chimneys of the old Priory.

It was at this point that she turned down a bridle path and found herself a few moments later in the heart of the woods. The girl was not so sure of her courage now, for the sense of loneliness was oppressive, and tried her nerves sadly. Grace had been through a good deal the last few days, and the strain was beginning to tell upon her. A rabbit flashed across her path, and she started as if some danger had suddenly confronted her. She could hear strange rustlings in the wood; an old grey fox slunk by, almost touching Grace as he passed.

She stood there just for a moment, her hands tightly clenched, fighting for the courage which seemed to be deserting her. She forced herself to think of Max and his danger, and that this midnight journey of hers might be the means of preserving her lover's life. With this thought uppermost in her mind she pushed on until the woods gave upon an open space, and there she saw the moon shining upon the moat which still more or less surrounded the old building. Grace was more cautious now; she crept towards the ruin, taking advantage of bushes here and there and the deep bracken which flourished on either side.

She stood just for a moment on the threshold of the deserted house; she was conscious of some hesitation which held her footsteps back. The next moment she had dived headlong into a friendly bed of bracken and lay there gasping for breath, her heart hammering so painfully that she could feel it thumping against her ribs. The giddy humming in her head cleared away presently; then she began to understand that someone was searching inside the building, for she could hear a mutter of voices and catch the flash of a lantern. So far as she could tell, she had never heard those voices before. She dare not raise her head to look, she had to judge the class of men by their speech. They did not strike her as people she would have cared to meet on a lonely night in the dark.

"No use seeking here any longer," one of the voices said. "I don't believe it's here at all. Besides, it doesn't much matter if it is."

"That's all you know about it," the other speaker growled. "It may not make much difference to you, but if Stephen Rice happened to discover that you hadn't been——"

The voice trailed off to a whisper, and Grace heard no more. She lay there quite still, almost afraid to breathe, and fully conscious of what discovery might mean to her. She drew a deep breath presently when at length the men emerged from the ruin and were soon lost in the thickness of the wood. A full five minutes elapsed before Grace dragged herself to her feet, and, with trembling limbs, entered the ruin. The brilliant rays of the moon showed her the grassy floor had been well trodden down in a search for something. She began to wish now that she had not come; she could see nothing likely to help her in the solving of the mystery. She half turned to leave the ruin, fully deciding to see "Poor Billy" again and try and get more information from him. As she turned, her foot slipped upon something, and she came to her knees. The object that had caused her fall was an oblong square of silver looking like a cigar or cigarette case which had had a great deal of bad usage lately. Grace picked it up and held it to the light.

"Max's," she cried. "Surely this is Max's cigarette-case. What can it possibly be doing here?"