Transcriber's Notes:
1. Book Scan Source:
https://archive.org/stream/loneinnmystery00hume#page/n6/
(Library of Congress: City of Washington)
_THE "UNKNOWN" LIBRARY_
---------------------
THE LONE INN
A MYSTERY
BY
FERGUS HUME
AUTHOR OF "THE MYSTERY OF A HANSOM CAB,"
"THE FEVER OF LIFE," "MADAME MIDAS," "THE
RED STAR," "ALADDIN IN LONDON," "THE
QUEER STORY OF ADAM LIND,"
ETC., ETC.
NEW YORK
THE CASSELL PUBLISHING CO.
31 East 17TH St. (Union Square)
COPYRIGHT, 1894, BY
FERGUS HUME.
Copyright, 1895, by
THE CASSELL PUBLISHING CO.
_All rights reserved_.
THE MERSHON COMPANY PRESS,
RAHWAY, N. J.
CHAPTER I.
THE ADVENTURE AT THE INN.
If there be aught in presentiments I was well warned by that first
glimpse of the inn. The monstrous bulk of gables, sloping roofs, and
lean chimneys, hunched blackly against the sky, would have scared a
bolder spirit than mine. All day I had walked under blue sky, between
green hedgerows, with light heart and whistling lip. Confronted in the
twilight by so sinister a scene I felt qualmish. Ragged clouds dropped
their fringes over sullen western red, around spread the salt marshes,
evil in their desolation, and I with chilled blood stared at the
lonely mansion dominating the outlook. Here, thought I, an adventure
awaits me. The hour, the house, the scene, hint at romance, and that
of the strangest.
So much were my spirits dashed by these ominous environments, that it
was in my mind to walk the further ten miles and shelter for the night
at Marshminster. Yet some fate compelled my unwilling feet toward that
inhospitable door, and almost before I knew my own mind I was knocking
loudly. It opened while my hand was still raised for the final rap,
and a handsome woman presented herself to my astonished eyes. What
beauty did among the tombs I know not, yet there she smiled. Though
handsome, she was not a lady, and lacked the undefinable stamp of
birth. At the same time she was above the commonality. Not a lady, not
a servant; but something between the two. Her appearance confirmed the
promise of romance.
"I have walked from Eastbury," said I, cap in hand, "and wish to put
up here for the night."
"Marshminster is only ten miles away," answered she, in nowise
disposed to admit me.
"And for that reason I want a bed here. Twenty or more miles walking
under a hot sun has wearied me considerably."
"I am sorry we cannot accommodate you, sir."
"This is an inn," I said, glancing at the sign.
"The Fen Inn, sir," she replied, still smiling, "and full of guests
for the time being."
"Full of guests, in this locality! You must then entertain waterfowl,
for I have seen no human being for the last twelve miles."
She made no direct answer, but shook her head and prepared to close
the door. Piqued by the discourtesy, and still more by the mystery of
this reception, I was about to insist upon admission, when my
attention was attracted to a face at the near window. I recognized it
as that of a college friend, and waved my stick in greeting.
"Halloa, Briarfield!" I shouted lustily. "Come and help me to a
night's lodgings."
The girl was surprised by my remark, and, as I thought, changed color.
She stepped aside to let Briarfield pass, and exhibited further
astonishment at the urbanity of our greeting.
"What wind blows you here, Denham?" asked Briarfield, shaking my hand.
"I am on a walking tour," I answered, "and hoped to have reached
Marshminster to-night. But as it is ten miles away and I feel weary I
wish to sleep here. This young lady, however, says the inn is full of
guests and----"
"Full of guests!" interrupted Briarfield, looking at the girl.
"Nonsense, Rose, I am the only guest here!"
"We expect others, sir," said Rose obstinately.
"You can't expect a sufficient number to fill the house," he retorted;
"surely Mr. Denham can have a bed?"
"I shall ask my father, sir!"
When she disappeared Briarfield turned to me with a smile, and asked a
strange question.
"Now, I'll be bound," said he, "that you don't know my first name?"
"Felix."
"No! You are wrong, I am not the rich Felix, but the poor Francis."
"You see the result of being one of twins," said I impatiently; "if at
college I could not distinguish between you how can you expect me to
do so now? I haven't seen either you or your brother for at least two
years. Where is Felix?"
"At Marshminster."
"And what are you doing here?"
"Ah, that's a long story. If you----"
"Please to walk in, sir," interrupted Rose at this moment, "my father
desires to speak with you."
"I have then to submit myself to the approval of the landlord," said
I, and forthwith entered the house, followed by Francis Briarfield.
The landlord, a lean, saturnine man, above the common height, saluted
me with a sour smile. In appearance and demeanor he was quite in
keeping with that dreary inn. About him lurked a Puritanic flavor, not
ill suited to his somber attire and unctuous speech. He was less like
an innkeeper than a smug valet. I mistrusted the man at first sight.
"I can give you supper and a bed, sir," said he, bending his body and
rubbing his hands, "neither, I regret to say, of the first quality."
"Never mind," I answered, unstrapping my knapsack. "I am too tired and
hungry to be particular."
"We have only lately taken up this house, sir," he continued, still
bowing, "and things are a trifle disordered."
I glanced round. Despite the cheerful blaze of a fire, the room had a
mildewed look, as though long uninhabited. Traces of hasty cleansing
were visible in all corners, and in the dim light filtered through
dusty panes, the apartment had a singularly uninviting aspect. Again
that premonition of misfortune came over me.
"I wonder you took up the house at all," said I. "You won't make your
fortune in this locality."
The landlord made no reply, but muttering something about supper left
the room. His daughter had already departed, presumably in the
direction of the kitchen, and I found myself alone with Francis
Briarfield. He was absently looking out at the window, and started
when I addressed him directly. I augured mystery therefrom.
"What's the meaning of these mysteries?" I asked abruptly. The horror
of the place was already influencing my spirits.
"What mysteries?" demanded Briarfield, in a listless manner.
"This inn has been uninhabited for some considerable period. A
suspicious looking rascal and his pretty daughter have taken up their
abode here with no possible chance of getting customers. I stumble on
this Castle Grim in the twilight and find you here--you of all men,
whom I believed to be in South America. Don't you call these
mysteries?"
"If you put it that way I admit the mysteries," replied Francis,
coming toward the fire. "I know little about the inn--still less about
the landlord and his daughter. As to myself--I am here by appointment
to meet my brother Felix. Came from London to Starby, and rode from
thence to this inn."
"Why meet him in this murderous looking house?"
"He named the place of meeting himself."
"And you?"
"I only arrived this month in England from South America. I wrote him
from London asking to see him. He appointed this inn as neutral ground
for us to meet, so here I am."
"Why neutral ground? Have you quarreled!"
"Bitterly."
"You did so at college," said I looking steadily at him. "Strange that
such ill blood should exist between twin brothers."
"The inevitable woman," said Francis, in a harsh tone, quite at
variance with his usual soft speech.
"Oh! And her name?"
"Olivia Bellin!"
"I know her. Do you mean to say, Briarfield, that----"
"Hush!" he said, rapidly indicating the door, and there stood the girl
Rose listening to our conversation. Her face was pale and it was
evident that the mention of the name had powerfully affected her.
Seeing our eyes were on her, she apologized in a low, nervous voice.
"Your pardon, gentlemen," she said, placing a tray on the table. "I
did not intend to interrupt your conversation. Allow me to lay the
table for supper!"
"First show me my room," said I, picking up my knapsack. "I am dusty,
and wish to give myself a brush up."
Rose nodded, and preceded me out of the apartment. I glanced back, and
saw that Francis had returned to his old post by the window. Evidently
he was watching for the arrival of his brother.
"When does Mr. Felix Briarfield arrive?" I asked Rose, as we ascended
the stairs.
"I don't know the name, sir," she said with an obvious effort.
"You don't know the name," I repeated, seeing she was lying, "yet Mr.
Francis Briarfield is here to meet his brother."
"It may be so, sir! But I know nothing about it. Mr. Briarfield is a
stranger to me, like yourself."
"It is to be hoped you received him more willingly than you did me."
My words fell on the empty air, for after her last remark she hastily
departed. I mechanically attended to my wants, and wondered what could
be the meaning of the girl's attitude.
"She knows Miss Bellin and Felix Briarfield," I thought, "perhaps not
personally, but at least their names. She is also aware of the
intended visit of Felix to this place. I must find out from Francis
the reason of that visit, and it may throw some light on the demeanor
of Rose. I am glad I came here to-night, for that landlord is scarcely
a person to be trusted. Certainly my presentiment of romance is coming
true."
When I descended to the dining room I found supper laid, and Francis
impatiently awaiting my arrival. A lamp was lighted, and for the first
time I saw his face plainly. The alteration in his looks and demeanor
since our college days was astonishing. Felix had always been the
graver of the twins, and it was the distinguishing mark between them.
Now the livelier spirits of Francis had calmed down to a subdued
gravity which made the resemblance between them still greater. We
seated ourselves at the table in silence, and he colored as he caught
my earnest look.
"You find me altered?" he asked, with manifest discomposure.
"Very much altered, and more like Felix than ever!"
"I haven't seen him for over a year," said Briarfield abruptly, "so I
don't know if the resemblance is still strong."
"It is stronger," I answered emphatically. "I saw Felix two months
ago, and now I look at you to-night I can scarcely believe it is
Francis, and not Felix seated before me."
"We are alike to outward view, Denham, but I hope our natures are
different."
"What do you mean?"
"Felix," said he, with marked deliberation, "is a thief, a liar, and a
dishonorable man!"
"You speak strongly!"
"I have reason to."
"The before-mentioned reason, Briarfield," said I, alluding to the
feminine element.
"Yes! By the way," he added feverishly, "you said Miss Bellin was
known to you."
"In a casual way only. She is a society beauty, and I have met her
once or twice; also her very silly mother. The latter is as remarkable
for folly as the former is for beauty. Well, Briarfield, and what
about Miss Bellin?"
"I was engaged to her."
"You are engaged to her?"
"I said I 'was,'" he replied, with emphasis; "now she is engaged to my
brother."
"Of her own free will?"
"I don't know," said Briarfield, "I really don't know. When I went to
Chili I was her affianced lover. Now I return and learn that she is to
marry my brother."
"What explanation does he make?"
"None as yet. To-night or to-morrow morning he comes here to explain."
"But why here, of all places?"
"Miss Bellin is in Marshminster. Felix is staying there also, and in
his letter asked me to see him at the Fen Inn, as he wished to explain
his conduct fully before I met Olivia again."
"And you agreed?"
"As you see."
"In your place," said I meditatively, "I should have gone at once to
Marshminster and confronted both. There is some trickery about this."
"You think so?"
"I am by nature suspicious," I answered, "perhaps too much so. Yes! I
think there is some trickery."
Francis frowned and glanced at his watch.
"It is now eight o'clock," he said, replacing it in his pocket, "too
late to go to Marshminster.'
"Besides which," I added, "our worthy landlord has doubtless neither
trap nor horse."
By this time we had finished supper and Rose came in to clear away.
Thoughtfully filling my pipe I watched her closely. Undeniably she was
a very beautiful woman, and ill suited to her present occupation. Why
a girl so handsome should bury herself in this lonely inn was a
mystery to me. I felt sure that there was a purpose connected with her
presence here, and that inimical to Briarfield. The landlord did not
make his appearance, which was to me a matter of some relief. I
disliked the fellow greatly.
Francis, smoking hard, sat staring at the fire, and took no heed of
Rose. Once or twice she glanced in his direction, and looked as though
about to address him. Catching my eye, she bit her lip and desisted.
Finally she disappeared from the room with manifest anger at not
having accomplished her design.
"Strange," said I, lighting my pipe.
"What is strange?" asked Briarfield, looking up.
"That girl knows your brother."
"It's not impossible," he answered carelessly; "Felix always had an
eye for pretty faces, and as he appointed this inn as a meeting place,
he has probably been here before. Rose Strent no doubt draws him
hither by her beauty."
"That is not a compliment to Miss Bellin."
"I know it. Felix is a profligate scamp, and will make her a bad
husband. He shall not marry her!" added Briarfield angrily. "I say he
shall not marry her and make her life miserable! I'll kill him first!"
"Man! man! think of what you are saying--your own brother."
"My own brother--my twin brother," scoffed Francis; "is that any
reason why he should take away from me the woman I love?"
"She is not worth regretting if she forgets you so soon."
"She has not forgotten me," he said earnestly; "I assure you, Denham,
she loves me still. The last letter I received from her gave no hint
that she wearied of me. As you say, there is some trickery about it.
I'll have an explanation from Felix," continued he, striking the table
with his fist, "or, by Heaven, I'll kill him!"
"Where did you meet her?" I asked, ignoring his last remark, which was
but idle.
"In town, over a year ago," he replied, calming down. "She is, as you
know, very beautiful, and her mother wished her to make a great match.
I am comfortably off, but have not a title, therefore Mrs. Bellin
would not sanction the engagement. Then I had to go out to South
America on business connected with my property. Before I left she
promised to become my wife, and swore that nothing should part us or
render her false to me. See, here is the ring she gave me," he added,
stretching out his hand, "this pearl ring. I was to be back in six
months, and our engagement was to be made public. I am back in six
months, and the first news I hear is that she is to marry Felix."
"Did she write and tell you so?"
"No, but Felix did, and asked me to meet him here before seeing her."
"Now, I wonder if this apparent treachery of Miss Bellin has anything
to do with your twinship."
"What do you mean?" asked Briarfield, starting up.
"You are so like in appearance," said I, "that no one could tell you
apart. You have lived constantly together save for the last six
months, and know every action of each other's lives. It may be that
Felix has passed himself off to Miss Bellin as you."
"Impossible! She would detect the deception."
"I doubt it, save by intuition. I assure you, Briarfield, that the
resemblance between you is most perplexing. There is not the slightest
difference. You dress the same, you have the same features, you almost
think the same. It is scarce possible to tell which is which when
apart. I thought to-night that you were Felix."
"It cannot be, it cannot be," he muttered feverishly; "her own heart
would tell her the truth."
"Did you tell Felix of your engagement?" I asked abruptly.
"Yes; I told him all."
"And when did you hear last from Miss Bellin?"
"Some three months ago. It was because she did not reply to my letters
that I came back so soon."
"To whom were your letters sent?"
"To her, of course!"
"Care of Felix?" said I, with instinctive suspicion.
"Why, yes," he said, with a sudden frown. "I did not want Mrs. Bellin
to know of our engagement, so did not dare to write openly. Felix
undertook to deliver the letters."
"He may have undertaken to do so, but," I added forcibly, "he did
not."
"Denham!"
"The whole case is as clear as day," said I. "Felix was in love with
Miss Bellin, and wished to marry her. Knowing she was in love with
you, he was well aware he had no chance, so resorted to trickery. When
you left for Chili, he gave her your letters for three months, then
saying he was going abroad, ostensibly left England, but really
stayed, and presented himself as--you."
"As me!"
"Yes. He has traded on the marvelous resemblance between you. He knows
all your life, all your love affairs, and I have no doubt that Miss
Bellin believes that he is Francis Briarfield, her lover, returned
from South America in three months instead of six."
"If I thought so," muttered Francis, biting his fingers, "if I thought
so----"
"I am sure it is so. Now you see why it is imperative that he should
interview you before you meet Miss Bellin. He wishes to reveal the
deception and throw himself on your mercy."
"He'll get no mercy from me if this is so," said Briarfield, in a
somber tone. "Oh, fool that I was not to write direct to Olivia when I
came back to England! But it is not too late. When he comes here I'll
learn the truth, and denounce him to Olivia. Then our troubles will be
over."
"A man capable of such a trick is capable of worse," said I
sententiously. "I advise you to be on your guard against Felix."
"Do you think he'll kill me?"
"I don't go as far as that," I replied cautiously; "but your meeting
will be--productive of trouble. Just now you expressed a wish to kill
him."
"And I shall, if he has tricked me as you say."
"Nonsense, Briarfield; you talk wildly. This matter can surely be
settled in a less melodramatic fashion. I am glad I am here, as
perhaps you will permit me to be present at the interview."
"Willingly. I know how clever you are, Denham. You may assist me to
unmask Felix."
"Do you think he'll come to-night?" said I, going to the window.
"His letter said to-night or to-morrow!"
"Then it will be to-morrow! Felix wouldn't risk meeting you at night
if he has thus betrayed you. Let us go to bed and to-morrow settle the
matter."
At first Francis was unwilling to retire, but when the landlord came
to lock up for the night, and laughed at the idea of anyone coming
there from Marshminster, he fell in with my desire. Together we went
upstairs and parted on the threshold of his room. It was five or six
doors away from mine.
"Lock your door," said I as we parted.
"What! do you think I'll be murdered in my sleep?"
"No! but I don't like the inn, and I dislike the face of Strent, the
landlord. Besides," I continued, tapping Briarfield's breast, "that
girl Rose!"
"What about her?"
"She knows Miss Bellin. Goodnight!"
With that I departed, notwithstanding his desire for an explanation of
my last words. So wearied was I that despite my suspicions of the inn
I speedily fell asleep.