THE NUBIAN MUTE
I returned from the little market town beneath a sky of tropical
brilliance. The landscape was bathed in a radiance of perfect
moonlight, and under the trees which thickly lined the way, the
shadows had a velvet quality rarely met with in England, their edges
showing more sharply defined than I ever remembered to have noticed
them before. But ere long I grew oblivious even of the beauty of the
night, becoming absorbed in reflections respecting this most
extraordinary case.
Every new datum acquired, instead of serving to elucidate, seemed only
more completely to obscure the issue. Mystery revealed itself within
mystery, and this was indeed a labyrinth, to the heart of which I
sometimes despaired of penetrating. Who was this woman whose elusive
figure appeared at every turn in the case? Was she one and the same
with the visitor to my cottage who had purloined the green enameled
statuette--and could it be that I had actually sat in conversation
with her in the coffee-room of the Abbey Inn and had failed to
recognize her for what she was?
Beyond doubt she had extraordinary cleverness and was a weaver of
spells, so that in a sense she could temporarily disguise her
personality. Whilst at one moment she was a repellent, half-animal
creature, at another she was a fascinating woman of the world versed
in strange lores and a most entertaining companion. What object
underlay her diverse activities? Assuming that she was concerned in
the murder of Sir Marcus Coverly, the purpose of her visit to my
cottage was not far to seek; she had come to recover incriminating
evidence and had been aided, it seemed, by the hand of fate.
But why had she come to visit me at the Abbey Inn and what had she
gained by this interview? Perhaps--I reflected, as I plodded along the
deserted country road--she had been interrupted on that occasion by
the inopportune appearance of Dr. Damar Greefe. Again, why had he
appeared there at that moment if not because he had suspected her
presence at the Inn; and what was the relationship existing between
these two singular people?
That the strange story related to me by the idiotic Edward Hines
simply resolved itself into an idle adventure on the part of the
mysterious woman, which she had been forced to terminate (somewhat
ferociously, I admit) by the uncouth ardor of this rustic swain I
seemed to perceive. But unless her visit to the Abbey Inn portended
that she had selected me as Mr. Edward Hines' successor, I failed to
fit it into the scheme.
I began to long for the presence of Inspector Gatton, for the
assistance of his trained mind in plumbing these depths which defied
my single efforts. Who this woman could be I failed to imagine; and
assuming that she had been concerned in the death of the late baronet,
in what way she stood to profit by it was utterly beyond my
comprehension, as was the position of Dr. Damar Greefe in the matter.
On I walked and on, unconsciously increasing my pace as is my way when
I am lost in abstraction; and, perhaps stimulated to greater mental
clarity by the exercise, some of my doubts were dispersed and I became
convinced at last that the shadowy figure which had dogged my
footsteps on the night of the crime--the owner of those blazing eyes
which had watched me from my garden--the woman who had stolen the
amulet from my writing-table, and the woman who had mutilated Edward
Hines, were one and the same as my visitor at the Abbey Inn--and the
unseen speaker who had conversed beneath my window on the night of my
arrival at Upper Crossleys!
Here then was a definite chain linking the Red House with Friar's
Park, or at least with its vicinity, and now so clearly did my ideas
fit themselves each into its correct place, that I determined upon the
identity of that other speaker who had stood in the shadows opposite
the Inn when I had awakened in the night. Mentally I recaptured the
high, rather coarse tones of his voice, and remembering how, touched
by the spell which had seemed to lie upon the whole country-side, I
had thought of him as Asmodeus, the master of the witches' revels, I
determined that my judgment had been not inexact. For now I identified
the speaker as Dr. Damar Greefe!
So far my meditations had proceeded and I suppose I was about half-way
on my journey towards the Abbey Inn, when all at once I became aware
again of that uncomfortable feeling of surveillance. As on that night
when returning from the Red House to my cottage I had experienced a
conviction that I was followed, so now a like conviction impressed
itself upon my mind. But whereas on the former occasion I had been
less fearful than curious, now I was aware of a positive dread of this
follower whose presence I had detected, by what sense I know not, and
of a certainty of a very grave menace.
Accordingly, I determined upon a certain plan which I proceeded to put
into execution without delay. I was traversing a stretch of
moon-bathed road at the moment that I first fell a victim to this
unpleasant suspicion which indeed was more than a suspicion, when
ahead of me I observed a patch, some twenty yards in extent, which was
entirely overshadowed by trees. For at this point the woods, clothing
a slope which ran right down to the road, closely impinged upon the
highway; and I had noticed something at this spot, on my outward
journey, which I now proposed to employ to my advantage.
Into this patch of darkness I walked then, my steps sounding crisply
along the road. On I went for some twenty yards until I found the
particular spot for which I was seeking. This was a sort of little bay
or inlet where until quite recently a heap of stones used by
roadmenders had lain, and into this I marched, never once altering my
pace. But having gained it I performed an about-turn and continued to
mark time there, whilst surveying the moon-bathed road behind me.
The object of this trick will be evident enough; for whilst the sound
of my footsteps would lead one in pursuit to suppose that I was
proceeding upon my way through the shadows, actually I was staring
intently back in quest of the pursuer of whose presence I had become
assured.
Perhaps in spite of the cautious manner in which he had advanced, he
had made some slight sound which, subconsciously detected, had
nevertheless intruded upon my reverie and in this way had acquainted
me with his presence. For now, continuing that steady beat, but
watching intently, I saw him.
Taking every advantage of the shade cast by the hedge on the right of
the road, a softly-moving figure was coming towards me!
That the tracker was desirous of avoiding observation the manner of
his approach sufficiently proved; and if I had had any doubts
respecting his purpose they would have been resolved in a manner
painful to myself had I not had the good fortune to detect him in
time.
A piece of road there was, which because of a gap in the hedge
afforded no shadow, and as the gliding shape reached this point and
passed it, I obtained a momentary but clear view of my pursuer.
I was being tracked by a Nubian mute!
That one glance was sufficient to convince me of the horrible truth.
The man was stripped to the waist, in order no doubt that his
movements might not be impeded, and I beheld a torso like that of some
Milo wrought in ebony! The cruel, animal face, the blubber lips, the
partly bared teeth--all spoke of the fate designed for me. I knew the
type and knew what scant mercy I could look for at his hands.
Indubitably this was a mute such as is sometimes attached to the
harêms of great Eastern houses to this day; and even if I had known
nothing of the functions of such a servitor, the fact that he carried
something in his left hand would have enlightened me.
It was a _strangling-cord_!
I smiled grimly. Respecting the identity of my would-be assassin there
was little room for doubt; he was the black servant of Dr. Damar
Greefe. Now, as he passed the bright patch of roadway and began to
glide silently nearer through the shadows, I marked time with a
lighter step, the more deeply to confuse him. Of the strange Nubian
dialect I knew nothing, but taking it for granted that the man was
familiar with Arabic, I raised my voice in a mournful cry, and (in the
Arab tongue):
"Cassim! Cassim!" I wailed--"Satan is calling for you!"
I think I have never witnessed such an exhibition of panic fright as I
now beheld. Cassim was less than ten yards away--and I could hear his
teeth chattering!
"Cassim!" I cried again--"Fly! fly! Satan is here!"
A horrible tongueless babbling answered the cry. There came a
scuffling--and I saw the Nubian's gleaming body leap out into the
lighted roadway as he fled.
"Faster! faster! Cassim!" I wailed. "He is behind you! Ah! he is _in
front_!"
Cassim staggered, turned and then stood still, looking this way and
that in a perfect delirium of fear. Finally he whirled around to the
right, shrieking wildly (I think some nocturnal insect had brushed
against him), plunged babbling up the bank to the hedge and heedless
of the fact that it contained many thorns which must have cruelly
lacerated his bare body, scrambled half through it and half over it
into the plowed field beyond!
Against such an enemy there is no more potent weapon than
superstition. Nevertheless I kept my hand upon the pistol in my pocket
and proceeded at an increased pace during the latter half of my
journey; nor am I ashamed to admit that the lights of the Abbey Inn
were a welcome sight, and it was with a feeling of relief that,
leaving the highroad behind me, I found myself again in the village
street of Upper Crossleys.
What to expect next, I knew not. The other party had made a false
move, for I now had definite evidence of the antagonism of Dr. Damar
Greefe and of his intent to cause my murder through the agency of his
Nubian servant.
My plan of nocturnal operations, already sufficiently dangerous, now
promised to lead me into extreme peril. I would have given much for
the company of Gatton, but, if I must act alone--alone I would set
out. If I am slow in planning, at least I can state with truth that I
am tenacious in execution. But here, now, was open warfare: and I must
look for an enemy prepared.