THE WEB TIGHTENS
"We shall get to the point all in good time," Mayfield said
deliberately. "That screen forms a kind of cosy corner and entrance to
the terrace. If a good dinner gave you a headache, and you could not
stand the light, you might do worse than sit in the big chair and
smoke there whilst the others sat around the table. I planned it all
out coming along, with the recollection of this room in my mind. But
the geographical situation is even better than I anticipated."
"What on earth are you driving at?" Speed asked with nervous
irritation.
Mayfield laughed. There was something hard and grating in his mirth.
"Well, I'll put it in the form of a parable if you like," he said.
"Suppose that you and I found ourselves in a very tight place. It
wants no imagination to conceive that, you say. Very well, the
situation is granted. We are in the warm corner, and the same man is
keeping us there. I need not say I am alluding to Ralph Darnley. If I
don't get him out of the way, I am a ruined man. Another few days, and
I shall have to fly the country in disgrace; I shall be brought back
and put on my trial. The result of that trial is a foregone conclusion
and society will be deprived of my presence for some years to come. My
only hope is in help of a substantial nature from you."
"That's all right," Speed whispered hoarsely, "you shall have as much
as you like, if you will only show me the way to raise the money."
"That's precisely what I am going to do. Darnley must be got of the
way. Then you will have all the money you need. Listen to me. Darnley
dines here tonight. He will not stay late because of my presence. When
the dinner is practically finished you will plead a headache, and go
and sit in that big chair with the window open. From time to time you
will put in a remark to show that you are still there. When Darnley
rises to go I shall walk as far as the hall with him and help him on
with his coat. It may happen that he will smoke a cigar that I shall
select for him--a fresh cigar to carry him home. A few whiffs of that
cigar will make him very giddy, for my cigars are strong. I have made
arrangements for a message to come to Darnley about half past ten
saying that Lady Dashwood desires to see him at the dower house
tonight.
"Now, if my memory serves me correctly, the quickest way to the dower
house is along the terrace here. Darnley will go that way. He will be
very giddy and sleepy. You are in the alcove whilst I am talking to
old Dashwood. This is where Dashwood comes in, where he will be a
witness for me. As Darnley staggers along, you get out on to the
terrace. You happen to have a loaded stick handy. I don't wish to
suggest any connection between the two events, but it is just possible
that Darnley will be found in the park tomorrow morning, with his head
split open and his pockets empty. That would be a fortunate accident
for us."
"Yes," Speed said with chattering teeth, "it--it would. But I don't
quite----"
"Oh, the rest is quite easy. I call to you directly I fancy things are
safe, and you come into the room grumbling at the light. I only want
you to answer a question, and so prove that you have been in the room
all the time. We don't lose sight of one another after that, not till
everybody has gone to bed, when I slip out and place the body so that
it can be found to look as if robbery had been the motive. Can you do
it?"
Speed nodded without reply. The room had grown suddenly dark, for a
thunderstorm had come up from the west. There was a lurid flash of
lightning followed by a clap of thunder, and then the rain came down
in torrents. It was only a matter of ten minutes before the light came
back again. Speed nodded once more.
"All right," he whispered, "I am a fairly powerful man, and
physically, I have nothing to fear from Ralph Darnley. Besides, you
say he will not be in a condition. . . . It's a dreadful thing to
think of, Mayfield, but I can't give this up. I really couldn't go
back to the old life of drudgery again. Only please don't revert to
the subject. Let us have another glass of wine and forget all about it
for the time being."
The afternoon wore on; evening came at length, and presently with it,
Ralph Darnley. He entered the big dining-room where the others awaited
him. His easy manner changed as he caught sight of Mayfield. Just for
the moment he felt a desire to walk out of the room and leave the
house. He had not expected an insult like this. But, on the other
hand, he had asked no questions; he had accepted the invitation as
much out of curiosity as anything else, and, besides, Mary's father
was there. And Ralph had been in more questionable circumstances
before now.
"I think you know Mayfield," Speed said carelessly.
"We have met on several occasions," Ralph said quietly, "we have had
business relations together. But I hardly expected the pleasure."
"Well, you have nothing to regret as far as the business relations are
concerned," Mayfield said with a laugh. "Still, it is possible to
forget all about that for the moment. My friend, Sp--I mean, Sir
Vincent, has asked me to stay here for a night. Upon my word, he is a
man to be envied! It isn't often that a place like this tumbles into a
man's lap. With most of us virtue is its own reward."
Ralph made some suitable reply. He was annoyed and angry with himself
for coming. But there was no getting out of it now; he would have to
go on till half-past ten at least. It was a relief in its way when
Slight came in with the announcement that dinner was ready. That meal
would occupy two hours at least.
There was everything set out just as it had been in the old days, and
yet there was a subtle difference. The house lacked the presence of a
mistress; it needed the refining influence of a woman. And, in his
mind's eye, Ralph saw the woman there, smiling and tender at the head
of the table, her eyes looking into his. It was worth all the
discomfort and unpleasantness of such a meal to know that the time
would not be long now. The puppets had nearly finished their parts,
and the hour for their removal was close at hand.
But the dinner dragged all the same; only Mr. Dashwood made spasmodic
efforts at keeping up the nagging conversation. He was fitfully gay,
perhaps he noted the look of displeasure in Ralph's eyes.
The cloth was removed at length and the wines sparkled red and white
under the soft, shaded lamps. Mayfield slipped out of the room
presently under pretence that he had forgotten his cigar case.
Directly he entered he turned to Ralph.
"A message has come for you," he said. "Lady Dashwood would like to
see you at the dower house on your way home. She will not detain you
long."
"In that case I must not be late," Ralph replied. He was glad of the
excuse to get away a little sooner than he had expected. "What is the
matter with our host?"
For Speed had started, the cigar fell from his fingers. The false
message was a signal to him that the tragedy had begun, and he was
expected to play his part when the time came. He placed his hand to
his head and groaned.
"A bilious headache," he said, "they give me a lot of trouble from
time to time. This one has been coming on all day. The light hurts my
eyes fearfully. If you will excuse me, I'll go and sit in the shade
behind the screen. I shall be able to hear all that is going on from
there."
Ralph murmured his sympathy. All he wanted to do now was to get away.
He was heartily sorry that he had come at all. Half an hour slipped
away, half an hour's talk about mining speculation, to which Mr.
Dashwood listened eagerly. Everything in the nature of gambling always
appealed to him.
"I am afraid I must be going," Ralph said. "It is necessary for me to
get away early if I am to see Lady Dashwood tonight."
"Don't go without a cigar," Mayfield urged as he proffered his case.
"There are no finer cigars in the world, though I say it myself. Do
try one."
Ralph held out his hand for the case. It certainly was an excellent
cigar. There was something very soothing about it. Mayfield followed
Ralph into the hall, only to return a moment later with the
information that the visitor had departed. Then came the sound of a
movement from behind the screen, followed by what might have been a
moan of pain.
"Poor chap," Mayfield said with ready sympathy. "Now let me go on, Mr.
Dashwood, and explain to you what I meant about those South African
shares. I want to prove to you what a good thing they are, if only you
have the pluck to take them and hold them."
"Provided that you've got the money," Dashwood laughed, "but, as you
are aware, I have no money; fortune has been very unkind to me lately.
Still, on the other hand--but you do not seem to be listening to me."
"I--I beg your pardon," Mayfield stammered, "I am listening to
something outside. Let us ask Sir Vincent if his head is well enough
to offer an opinion. I say, Dashwood, would you mind coming here for a
moment. Your relation here says----"
"All right," came a little voice from behind the screen, "I'm coming.
Why can't you leave a fellow alone? I declare I'm shaking from head to
foot with cold. Let us sit here out of the draught. . . . I'm fairly
stung with the cold."
The speaker's teeth were chattering, his face was a ghastly blue
colour. And, for a long time afterwards, nobody spoke besides Mr.
George Dashwood!