"Well," he replied, "there are certain curious circumstances which no
doubt point to such a conclusion, although I understand that the doctors
have had no hesitation in pronouncing death to be due to natural
causes."
"Would you mind describing to me, as far as you are able, what you heard
in the night?" I said. "I have a reason for asking this. No doubt you
have already several times told your story."
"Yes. To the medical men and also to the police," he said. "Well, it
was like this. I'm quartered at Canterbury, and Guy, who was in my
regiment and retired a year or so ago, asked me to spend a few days with
him. I came here three days ago and found him in the highest of
spirits, and very keen about tennis. He took me over to see a man named
Shaw, and his daughter, of whom he was, I know, very fond. The night
before last he gave a little dinner to a few people, and Shaw and the
girl were here. After dinner we all went out on to the lawn for coffee.
The place was hung with Chinese lanterns and looked charming, but all
Guy's attention was devoted towards entertaining Shaw's daughter. I saw
them cross the lawn in the moonlight and stroll into the grounds
together; and when they came back I overheard Shaw expressing his
annoyance to her at her absence. Shaw chatted with Justice Michelmore a
good deal, while I had a Mrs Vane, a rather stout person, put upon me
for the evening. I tell you I envied Guy, for the girl is really
delightful."
"Was there any bridge?"
"Yes, for about an hour in the drawing-room. Shaw and the Judge did not
play. Before eleven the guests began to depart, and the Vanes, the last
to leave, went about midnight. After they had gone I sat in the library
with Guy for half an hour, and had a cigar. He was full of Asta
Seymour, and when I asked him why he did not propose to her he reflected
a moment, and then told me, in strict confidence, that he would do so at
once--but for a certain circumstance."
"Did he explain that circumstance?" I asked eagerly.
"No. I pressed him, but he refused to tell me. `It is my secret,
Teddy,' he said. `A secret which, alas! bars my happiness for ever.'
As we smoked, I noticed that, contrary to the rule, the long window
yonder was open, and remarked upon it. He rose, and saying that the
servant had probably forgotten it, closed it himself and barred the
shutters. You'll see they are strong shutters, and they were found in
the morning closed and barred just as he had left them. Indeed, I
unbarred them myself."
"Then you left him here?" I asked.
"No. He turned off the light and came out with me, locking the door
after him, for it seems he's always careful to have every door on the
ground floor locked at night. He came upstairs with me, wished me a
cheery good-night outside my own door, and, promising to motor me into
Oakham on the morrow, went along to his room. That is the last time he
was seen alive."
"What did you next hear?"
"I was awakened by a loud, piercing shriek--a man's shriek of intense
horror, it seemed. No one else slept in this wing of the house, or they
must certainly have heard it. I roused myself at the unusual sound, for
I was thoroughly startled and awakened by it. The clock on my
mantelshelf struck two. I waited for some minutes, when I heard a noise
which seemed to be below in the library, as though some one were moving
about trying the door and hammering upon it. This caused me to wonder,
and I held my breath to listen further. I suppose I must have lain like
that for fully an hour. It was my intention if I heard anything further
to go along to Guy's room. I had, of course, some hesitation in
arousing the household. But as I heard nothing further, I suppose I
fell asleep, for the sun was shining when I awoke again. I got up, and
was crossing to the window to look out when I heard a woman's cry for
help. So I rushed out in my pyjamas, and, descending the stairs, found
poor Guy lying just here," and he crossed to a spot about four yards
from the door, and pointed to the red carpet.
"Was the room in any disorder?" I asked.
"Not as far as I could see. The shutters yonder were closed and barred,
so I opened them and then tried to rouse my friend. But, alas! I saw
by the ashen look upon his face that he was already dead. He was still
in his dinner-jacket--just as I had left him. Of course you can well
imagine the scene and the horror of the servants. Poor Guy--he was one
of the very best."
"What is your theory, Captain Cardew?"
"Theory! Well, I hardly know. I was a fool, and I shall never forgive
myself for not raising an alarm when I first heard his shriek. I ought
to have known that something was wrong. But there are moments in one's
life when one, being awakened suddenly, acts foolishly. It was so with
me."