FOLLOWING A TRAIL
Frank had started early for a walk with one of his school friends.
Returning through the town at three in the afternoon, he saw people
talking in groups. They presently met one of their chums.
"What is going on, Vincent?"
"Why, have you not heard? Faulkner, the magistrate, has been shot."
"Shot!" the two boys exclaimed. "Do you mean on purpose or
accidentally?"
"On purpose. The servants heard a gun fired close by, and a minute later
his horse galloped up to the door. Two men ran along the drive, and, not
a hundred yards from the house, found him lying shot through the body.
Three of the doctors went off at once. Thompson came back ten minutes
ago, for some instruments, I believe. He stopped his gig for a moment to
speak to the Rector, and I hear he told him that it might be as well for
him to go up at once, as there was very little probability of Faulkner's
living through the night."
"Well, I can't say that I am surprised," Frank said. "He has made
himself so disliked, there are so many men who have a grudge against
him, and he has been threatened so often, that I have heard fellows say
dozens of times he would be shot some day. And yet I suppose no one ever
really thought that it would come true; anyhow it is a very bad affair."
Leaving the other two talking together, Frank went on home. Mrs.
Troutbeck was greatly shocked at the news.
"Dear, dear!" she said, "what dreadful doings one does hear of. Who
would have thought that a gentleman, and a magistrate too, could have
been shot in broad daylight within a mile or two of us. I did not know
him myself, but I have always heard that he was very much disliked, and
it is awful to think that he has been taken away like this."
"Well, Aunt, I don't pretend to be either surprised or shocked. If a man
spends his life in going out of his way to hunt others down, he must not
be surprised if at last one of them turns on him. On the bench he was
hated; it was not only because he was severe, but because of his
bullying way. See how he behaved in that affair with Julian. I can't say
I feel any pity for him at all, he has sent many a man to the gallows,
and now his time has come."
At five o'clock it was already dusk, the shutters had been closed, and
the lamp lighted. Presently the servant entered.
"There is someone wants to speak to you, Master Frank."
Frank went out into the hall. The head of the constabulary and two of
his men were standing there. Much surprised, Frank asked the officer
into the other sitting-room.
"What is it, Mr. Henderson?" he said.
"It is a very sad business, a very sad business, Mr. Wyatt. Your brother
is not at home, I hear?"
"No. Julian went over this morning to have a day's rabbit-shooting with
Dick Merryweather. I expect it won't be long before he is back. There is
nothing the matter with him?" he asked, with a vague feeling of alarm at
the gravity of the officer's face.
"It is a very painful matter, Mr. Wyatt; but it is useless trying to
hide the truth from you, for you must know it shortly. I hold a warrant
for your brother's arrest on the charge of attempted wilful murder."
Frank's eyes dilated with surprise and horror.
"You don't mean--" he gasped, and then his faith in his brother came to
his aid, and he broke off indignantly: "it is monstrous, perfectly
monstrous, Mr. Henderson. I suppose it is Faulkner, and it is because of
that wretched smuggling business that suspicions fall on him, as if
there were not a hundred others who owe the man a much deeper grudge
than my brother did; indeed he had no animosity against him at all, for
Julian got the best of it altogether, and Faulkner has been hissed and
hooted every time he has been in the town since. If there was any
ill-feeling left over that matter, it would be on his part and not on
Julian's. Who signed the warrant? Faulkner himself?"
"No; it is signed by the Colonel and Mr. Harrington. They took the dying
deposition of Mr. Faulkner. There is no harm in my telling you that,
because it must be generally known when your brother is brought up, but
till then please do not let it go further. He has sworn that he overtook
Mr. Wyatt two or three hundred yards before he got to his own gate.
There was an altercation between them, and he swears that your brother
used threats. He had a double-barrelled gun in his hand, and as Faulkner
was riding up the drive to the house he was fired at from the trees on
his left, and fell from his horse. Almost directly afterwards Mr. Wyatt
ran out from the spot where the gun had been fired. Thinking he would
finish him if he thought he was still alive, Mr. Faulkner closed his
eyes and held his breath. Your brother came up and stood over him, and
having satisfied himself that he was dead, ran off through the trees
again."
"I believe it is a lie from beginning to end," Frank said passionately.
"Julian has brought him into disgrace here, and the fellow invented this
charge out of revenge. If it had been in the road, and Faulkner had
struck Julian as he did before, and Julian had had his loaded gun in his
hand, I don't say but that in his passion he might have shot him; still,
I don't believe he would, even then. Julian is one of the best-tempered
fellows in the world; still, I would admit that, in the heat of the
moment, he might raise his gun and fire, but to say that he loaded his
gun after Faulkner had gone on--for I am sure it was empty as he came
along, as I have never known him to bring home his gun loaded--and that
he then went and hid behind a tree and shot a man down. Why, I would not
believe it if fifty honest men swore to it, much less on the oath of a
fellow like Faulkner."
"I can't say anything about that, Mr. Wyatt; I have only my duty to do."
"Yes, I understand that, Mr. Henderson. Of course he must be arrested,
but I am sure no one will believe the accusation for a minute. Oh!" he
exclaimed, as a fresh idea struck him, "what was Faulkner shot with?"
"It is a bullet wound."
"Well, that is quite enough," Frank exclaimed triumphantly. "Julian had
his double-barrelled gun with him, and had been rabbit-shooting; and if
it had been he who fired it would have been with a charge of shot. You
don't suppose he went about with a bullet in his pocket to use in case
he happened to meet Faulkner, and have another row with him. Julian
never fired a bullet in his life, as far as I know. There is not such a
thing as a bullet-mould in the house."
The officer's look of gravity relaxed. "That is important, certainly,"
he said, "very important. I own that after hearing the deposition read
it did seem to me that, as the result of this unfortunate quarrel, your
brother might have been so goaded by something Mr. Faulkner said or did,
that he had hastily loaded his gun, and in his passion run across the
wood and shot him down. But now it is clear, from what you say, that it
is most improbable he would have a bullet about him, and unless it can
be proved that he obtained one from a gunmaker or otherwise, it is a
very strong point in his favour. I suppose your brother has not returned
this afternoon?"
"No. I asked the servant, when I got home at three, whether he had
returned, though I did not expect him back so soon, and she said that he
had not come in, and I am sure he has not done so since."
"Then I will not intrude any longer. I shall place one of my men in
front of the house and one behind, and if he comes home his arrest will
be managed quietly, and we will not bring him in here at all. It will
save a painful scene."
When the officer had left, Frank returned to his aunt.
"What is it, Frank?" she asked.
"Well, Aunt, it is a more absurd affair than the other; but, absurd as
it is, it is very painful. There is a warrant out for the arrest of
Julian on the charge of attempting to murder Mr. Faulkner."
Mrs. Troutbeck gave a cry, and then burst into a fit of hysterical
laughter. After vainly trying to pacify her, Frank went out for the
servant, but as her wild screams of laughter continued he put on his
hat and ran for the family doctor, who lived but a few doors away. He
briefly related the circumstances of the case to him, and then brought
him back to the house. It was a long time before the violence of the
paroxysm passed, leaving Mrs. Troutbeck so weak that she had to be
carried by Frank and the doctor up to her room.
"Don't you worry yourself, Aunt," Frank said, as they laid her down upon
the bed; "it will all come out right, just as the last did. It will all
be cleared up, no doubt, in a very short time."
As soon as the maid had undressed Mrs. Troutbeck, and had got her into
bed, the doctor went up and gave her an opiate, and then went down into
the parlour to Frank, who told him the story in full, warning him that
he must say nothing about the deposition of Mr. Faulkner until it had
been read in court.
"It is a very grave affair, Frank," the old doctor said. "Having known
your brother from his childhood, I am as convinced as you are that,
however much of this deposition be true or false, Julian never fired the
shot; and what you say about the bullet makes it still more conclusive,
if that were needed--which it certainly is not with me. Your brother had
an exceedingly sweet and even temper. Your father has often spoken to me
of it, almost with regret, saying that it would be much better if he had
a little more will of his own and a little spice more of temper. Still,
it is most unfortunate that he hasn't returned. Of course, he may have
met some friend in the town and gone home with him, or he may have
stayed at Mr. Merryweather's."
"I don't think he can have stopped in the town anyhow," Frank said; "for
the first thing he would have heard when he got back would have been of
the shooting of Faulkner, and he would have been sure to have come home
to talk it over with me. Of course, he may have stopped with the
Merryweathers, but I am afraid he has not. I fancy that part of
Faulkner's story must be true; he could never have accused Julian if he
had not met him near his gate--for Julian in that case could have easily
proved where he was at the time. No, I think they did meet, and very
likely had a row. You know what Faulkner is; and I can understand that
if he met Julian he would most likely say something to him, and there
might then be a quarrel; but I think that his story about Julian coming
out and looking at him is either pure fancy or a lie. No doubt he was
thinking of him as he rode along; and, badly wounded as he was, perhaps
altogether insensible, he may have imagined the rest."
"That is all quite possible," the doctor agreed; "but in that case
Julian's not coming home is all the more extraordinary. If he met
Faulkner between two and three o'clock, what can he have been doing
since?"
This was a question Frank could not answer.
"I can't tell, sir," he said after a long pause; "I really can't
imagine. Still, nothing in the world would make me believe that Julian
did what he is charged with."
Several times Frank went outside the door, but the constable was still
there. At last, after sitting and looking at the fire for some time he
put on his cap and went to the residence of the chief constable.
"Excuse me, Mr. Henderson, but I have been thinking it over ever since
you left. Whoever did this murder did not probably return to the road,
but struck off somewhere across the fields. There was snow enough in the
middle of the day to cover the ground; it stopped falling at two
o'clock, and has not snowed since. Might I suggest that in the morning a
search should be made round the edge of the wood. If there are
footprints found it might be of great importance."
"You are quite right, Mr. Wyatt, and I had already determined to go
myself, with a couple of constables, at daylight."
"May I go with you, sir?"
"If you please. But you must remember that the evidence of footprints
which we may find may be unfavourable to your brother."
"I have not the slightest fear of that," Frank said confidently.
"Very well, then, Mr. Wyatt. The two constables will be here at
half-past seven, and I shall be ready to start with them at once. Should
you by any chance be late, you will, no doubt, be able to overtake us
before we get there."
The next morning Frank was at the office half an hour before the
appointed time. Fortunately no snow had fallen in the night. The chief
constable looked grave and anxious when the search began; Frank was
excited rather than anxious. He had no fear whatever as to the result of
the investigation; it would disclose nothing, he felt certain, to
Julian's disadvantage. The continued absence of the latter was
unaccountable to him, but he felt absolutely certain that it would be
explained satisfactorily on his return.
The moment they got across the hedge into the fields skirting the wood
the chief constable exclaimed:
"Stay, men; here are footprints by the edge of the trees! Do not come
out until I have carefully examined them. Do you not think," he went on,
turning to Frank, "that it would be much better that you should not go
further with me, for you see I might have to call you as a witness?"
"Not at all, Mr. Henderson; whatever we find, I shall have no objection
to being a witness, for I am certain that we shall find nothing that
will tend to incriminate my brother. I see what you are thinking
of--that these footprints were Julian's. That is my own idea too. At any
rate, they are the marks of a well-made boot of large size, without
heavy nails."
The constable nodded. "There are two sets," he said, "one going each
way; and by the distance they are apart, and the fact that the heel is
not as deeply marked as the rest of the print, whoever made them was
running."
"Certainly," Frank agreed; "he ran up to the hedge and then turned. Why
should he have done that?"
"Probably because he saw some vehicle or some persons walking along the
road, and did not wish to be seen."
"Possibly so, Mr. Henderson; but in that case, why did he not keep among
the trees both coming and going, instead of exposing himself, as he must
have done running here; for the hedge is thin, and any one walking
along, much less driving, could have seen him."
Mr. Henderson looked at Frank with a closer scrutiny than he had before
given him.
"You are an acute observer, Mr. Wyatt. The point is an important one. A
man wishing to avoid observation would certainly have kept among the
trees. Now, let us follow these footprints along; we may learn something
further."
Presently they came to the point where Julian had come out from the
wood.
"You see he was in the wood, Mr. Wyatt," the constable said.
"I quite see that," Frank said. "If these are the marks of Julian's
boots--and I think they are--we have now found out that he came out of
the wood at this point, ran for some purpose or other, and without an
attempt at concealment, as far as the hedge; then turned and ran back
again, past the point where he had left the wood. Now let us see what he
did afterwards--it may give us a clue to the whole matter."
Fifty yards further they came on the spot where Julian had turned off on
the poacher's track.
"There it is, Mr. Henderson!" Frank exclaimed triumphantly. "Another man
came out of the wood here--a man with roughly-made boots with hob-nails.
That man came out first; that is quite evident. The tracks are all in a
line, and Julian's are in many places on the top of the other's. They
were both running fast. But if you look you will see that Julian's
strides are the longest, and, therefore, he was probably running the
fastest."
"It is as you say, Mr. Wyatt. The lighter footprints obliterate those of
the heavier boots in several places. What can be the meaning of this,
and what can the second man have been doing in the wood?"
"The whole thing is perfectly plain to me," Frank said excitedly.
"Julian was in the road, he heard the report of the gun close by in the
wood, and perhaps heard a cry; he jumped over the hedge and made for the
spot, and possibly, as Mr. Faulkner said, ran into the drive and stooped
over him; then he started in pursuit of the murderer, of whom he may
possibly have obtained a sight. There was not enough snow under the
trees for him to follow the footprints, he therefore ran to the edge of
the wood, and then to the road, in search of the man's track. Then he
turned and ran back again till he came upon them leaving the wood, and
then set off in pursuit."
"By Jove! Mr. Wyatt," the officer said, "I do think that your
explanation is the right one. Give me your hand, lad; I had no more
doubt five minutes ago that your brother had, in a fit of passion, shot
Mr. Faulkner than I have that I am standing here now. But I declare I
think now that he acted as you say. How you have struck upon it beats me
altogether."
"I have been thinking of nothing else all the night, Mr. Henderson. I
put myself in Julian's position, and it seemed to me that, hearing a gun
fired so close at hand, even if he did not hear a cry, Julian knowing
how often the man had been threatened, might at once have run to the
spot, and might have behaved just as Faulkner says he did. All that
seemed to me simple enough; Julian's absence was the only difficulty,
and the only way I could possibly account for it, was that he had
followed the murderer."
"It was very imprudent," Mr. Henderson said gravely.
"Very; but it was just the sort of thing Julian would have done."
"But, however far he went, he ought to be back before this."
"That is what I am anxious about, Mr. Henderson. Of course he ought to
be back. I am terribly afraid that something has happened to him. This
man, whoever he was, must have been a desperate character, and having
taken one life from revenge, he would not hesitate to take another to
secure his own safety. He had a great advantage over Julian, for, as we
know, his gun carried bullets, while Julian had nothing but small shot.
Which way shall we go next, Mr. Henderson--shall we follow the track or
go into the wood?"
"We will go into the wood; that will take us a comparatively short time,
and there is no saying how far the other may lead us. But, before we do
so, I will call up my two men, take them over the ground, and show them
the discoveries we have made. It is as well to have as many witnesses as
possible."
The two constables were called up and taken along the line of track, and
the chief constable pointed out to them that the man with well-made
boots was evidently running after the other. Then they entered the wood.
Carefully searching, they found here and there prints of both the boots.
They went out into the drive, and, starting from the spot where Mr.
Faulkner had been found, made for a large tree some thirty yards to the
left.
"Just as I thought," Mr. Henderson said. "Someone has been standing
here, and, I should think, for some little time. You can see that the
ground is kicked up a bit, and, though it was too hard to show the marks
of the boots plainly, there are many scratches and grooves, such as
would be made by hob-nails. Now, lads, search about closely; if we can
find the wad it will be a material point."
After five minutes' search one of the men picked up a piece of
half-burned paper. Frank uttered an exclamation of satisfaction as he
held it up.
"Julian always used wads. This never came from his gun. Now let us go
back to the tree, Mr. Henderson, and see which way the man went after
firing the shot."
After careful search they found the heavy footprints at several spots
where the snow lay, and near them also found traces of the lighter
boots. The trees then grew thicker, but following the line indicated by
the footprints, they came to the spot where he had left the wood.
"You see, Mr. Henderson," Frank said, "Julian lost the footprints just
where we did, and bore a little more to the left, striking the edge of
the wood between where the man had left it and the road. Now, sir, we
have only to find the spot where Julian first left the road, and try to
trace his footsteps from there to the spot where Mr. Faulkner was lying.
We know that the shot was fired from behind that tree--and if my
brother's footsteps miss this spot altogether, I think the case will be
absolutely proved."
They went back into the road, and found where Julian had crossed the
untrodden snow between it and the hedge, and had pushed his way through
the latter. It was only here and there that footprints could be found;
but, fortunately, some ten yards to the right of the tree there was an
open space, and across this he had evidently run.
"You have proved your case, Mr. Wyatt," the chief constable said,
shaking Frank cordially by the hand. "I am indeed glad. Whoever the man
was who shot Mr. Faulkner, it was certainly not your brother. Now let us
start at once on the tracks."
Frank's face became more serious than it had been during the previous
search, as soon as they took up the double track across the fields.
Before, he had felt absolutely confident that whatever they might find
it could only tend to clear Julian from this terrible accusation; now,
upon the contrary, he feared that any discovery they might make would
confirm his suspicions that evil had befallen him. Scarcely a word was
spoken as they passed along the fields.
"The man with the hob-nailed boots is taking to the hills," the chief
constable remarked.
"I am afraid so, Mr. Henderson; and as they are bare of snow there will
be no chance of our following him."
When they came to the point where the snow ended they stopped.
"There is an end of our search, Mr. Wyatt. We must return to the town.
The magistrates will meet at eleven o'clock, and I and the constables
must be there. But I will send off two men directly we get back, to go
along the cliffs and question all the men who were on duty yesterday
afternoon as to whether they saw two men with guns crossing the hills,
one being probably some distance behind the other. I think, perhaps, you
had better come to the court. I don't say that it will be absolutely
necessary, but I think it would be better that you should do so; and you
see it would be useless for you to be hunting over those hills alone. As
soon as the court is over I will take four men and will myself start to
search for him. There is no saying whether we may not find some sign or
other. I shall be glad if you will go with me; you have shown yourself a
born detective this morning, for had you been trained to it all your
life you could not have followed the scent up more unerringly."
"I will certainly go with you, Mr. Henderson, and I will be at the
court-house. I would start at once for the hills, but I have had nothing
to eat this morning, and, what is much more important, I want to ease
my aunt's mind. Of course, she was as certain as I was that Julian had
nothing whatever to do with this, but naturally it will be an immense
relief to her to know that the suspicion of so dreadful a crime no
longer rests on him."
When Frank returned home he found that Mrs. Troutbeck was so prostrated
with the shock that she was still in bed, where the doctor had ordered
her to remain. As soon, however, as she heard that Frank was back, she
sent down for him to come up. Her delight was extreme when he told her
of the discoveries he had made, and that the constables had no doubt the
warrant for Julian's arrest would be withdrawn. She became anxious again
when she found that Frank could give no satisfactory explanation of his
long absence.
"I would not trouble about it, Aunt," he said, soothingly; "no doubt we
shall hear of him before long. Let us be content that he has come well
out of this terrible accusation, just as he did from the former charge,
and let us hope that the explanation of his absence will be just as
satisfactory when we hear it. Even if I thought that Julian had got into
any trouble, it would be infinitely easier to bear than a knowledge that
he was suspected of murder, for it would have been murder, Aunt. I heard
just now that Faulkner died last night."
The meeting of magistrates was an informal one, as they agreed, directly
they heard that Julian was not in custody, that they could proceed no
further in the matter. Mr. Henderson, after answering their first
question, followed them into their private room.
"So you did not lay hands on him last night," Colonel Chambers said. "We
shall have to alter the warrant, for I find that Mr. Faulkner is dead."
"I think, gentlemen," the chief constable said quietly, "that after you
have heard what I have to tell, you will have to withdraw the warrant
altogether."
"Eh! what? Do you mean to say, Henderson, that you think the young
fellow did not fire the shot after all? I would give a hundred pounds if
I could think so, but, with Faulkner's deposition before us, I don't see
how there can be any possible doubt in the matter. Besides, I was
present when he gave it, and though it may have been coloured a good
deal by his feeling against young Wyatt, I am convinced that he
believed, at any rate, that he was speaking the truth."
"I have no doubt he did, sir, and I had no more doubt than you have as
to Mr. Wyatt's guilt; indeed, until his brother pointed out one very
important fact, nothing would have persuaded me that he did not fire the
shot. I don't say that it was at all conclusive, but it sufficed to show
that the matter was by no means so certain as it seemed to be. I found
him at the house when I went there to arrest his brother. Of course, the
young fellow was greatly shocked when I told him the nature of the
charge, and declared it to be absolutely impossible. So certain was he,
that even when I told him the nature of Mr. Faulkner's depositions, he
was more puzzled than alarmed. The first question he asked was whether
Mr. Faulkner had been killed by shot or by a ball. When I said by a ball
his face cleared up altogether. His brother, he said, and as we know,
had been rabbit-shooting at Mr. Merryweather's. He would have had small
shot with him, but young Wyatt said that he did not think his brother
had ever fired a bullet in his life. He knew there was not such a thing
as a bullet in the house. Mr. Wyatt could not possibly have known that
he was likely to meet Mr. Faulkner on his way back from shooting, and
therefore, unless upon the rather improbable theory that he went about
with the intention of shooting Mr. Faulkner whenever he met him, and
that he had bought a bullet in the town and carried it always about with
him for the purpose, it was clear that he could not have fired that
shot."
"There is something in that, Mr. Henderson. A good deal in it, I am
ready to admit, but nothing that would really counteract the effect of
Faulkner's direct testimony, given when he knew that he was dying."
"No, sir; still it is a point that I own I had entirely overlooked;
however, that is not now so important. I will now tell you what has
taken place this morning."
And he then related the story of the discovery of the tracks, that
proved that Julian had not gone near the tree behind which the murderer
had for some time been standing, and how, after running in and finding
Mr. Faulkner's body, he had set out in pursuit of the scoundrel.
"I have the two constables outside who were with me, Colonel, and if you
like to question them, they will, I am sure, confirm my statement in all
respects."
"I am glad indeed to hear your story, Mr. Henderson," Colonel Chambers
said warmly. "The lad's father was an old friend of mine, and it was
terrible to think that his son could have committed such a dastardly
crime. What you say seems to me quite conclusive of his innocence, and,
at the same time, is not in any way in contradiction with the
deposition. I give you very great credit for the manner in which you
have unravelled this mystery."
"The credit, sir, is entirely due to Mr. Wyatt's brother. He had formed
the theory that, as in his opinion his brother was certainly innocent of
the crime, the only possible way in which he could account for his
absence from home that night was that, upon hearing the gun fired so
close at hand, Mr. Wyatt had at once run to the spot, found the body of
Mr. Faulkner, and had then immediately started in pursuit of the
murderer. Setting out with me on the search with this theory strongly
fixed in his mind, young Wyatt seized at once every point that confirmed
it, and pointed out to me that the man with heavy boots had crossed the
fields at a run, and that the other had followed as soon as he came
upon the footprints, after searching for them up and down by the edge of
the wood. Once we had got this clue to follow up, the matter was then
plain enough. The search through the wood showed us the whole
circumstances of the case, as I have related them to you, just as
plainly as if we had witnessed the affair. But if I had not been set
upon the right trail, I say honestly that I doubt whether I should have
unravelled it, especially as the snow is rapidly going, and by this
afternoon the footprints will have disappeared."
"Well, as a matter of form, we will take down your statement, Mr.
Henderson, and then take those of the constables."
"Young Mr. Wyatt is outside, if you would like to hear him, sir."
"Certainly we will," the Colonel said. "He must be a wonderfully shrewd
young fellow, and I think we ought to take his statement, if only to
record the part he played in proving his brother's innocence. But where
is the brother, Mr. Henderson; hasn't he come back yet?"
"No, sir; and I own that I regard his absence as alarming. You see the
murderer, whoever he is, was armed with a rifle, or at any rate with a
gun that carried bullets, while Mr. Wyatt had only a shot gun. Such a
fellow would certainly not suffer himself to be arrested without a
struggle, and when he found that he was being followed across the hills,
would be likely enough to shoot down his pursuer without letting him get
close enough to use his fowling-piece. I have sent two constables up to
inquire of the coast-guard men along the cliffs whether they observed
any man with a gun crossing the hills yesterday afternoon, and whether
they heard a gun fired. As soon as you have before you the statements of
the constables who were with me this morning, I intend to take them and
two others and start myself for a search over the hills, and I am very
much afraid that we shall come upon Mr. Wyatt's body."
"I sincerely hope not," Colonel Chambers said; "but I own that I can see
no other way for accounting for his absence. Well, if you will call the
clerk in, he will take down your statement at once. What do you think,
Harrington? It seems to me that when we have got the four statements we
shall be fully justified in withdrawing the warrant against young
Wyatt."
"I quite think so, Colonel. You see, the facts will all come out at the
coroner's inquest, and, when they do so, I think there will be a good
deal of strong feeling in the place if it is found that young Wyatt has
been killed while bravely trying to capture Faulkner's murderer, while
at the same time our warrant for his apprehension for the murder was
still in force."
"Yes, there is a good deal in that, Harrington. If Faulkner had not died
I think that it would have been best merely to hold the warrant over in
order that when Wyatt comes back, if he ever does come back, all these
facts might be proved publicly; now that will all be done before the
coroner."
The statements of Mr. Henderson and the two constables were taken down.
Frank was then called in.
"I congratulate you most heartily upon the innocence of your brother
having been, to our minds, so conclusively proved, and, as Mr. Henderson
tells us, chiefly owing to your shrewdness in the matter. Before you
begin, you can repeat your opinion about the bullet that you pointed out
to the chief constable last night, in order that the point may be
included in your statement. After that you can tell us the story of your
search in the wood."
When Frank had finished, Colonel Chambers said: "This is a very awkward
thing about your brother's disappearance. While giving him the fullest
credit for his courage in following a desperate man armed with a rifle,
it was certainly a rash undertaking, and I fear that he may have come to
harm."
"I don't suppose when he started, that it was so much the idea of
capturing the man, Julian had in his mind, as of seeing who he was. Had
my brother come back with only the statement that some man unknown had
shot Mr. Faulkner, his story might not have been credited. Certainly, in
the teeth of Mr. Faulkner's depositions, it would not have been believed
when there was no evidence to support it. Still, I don't suppose it had
even entered Julian's mind that any suspicion could possibly fall upon
him. I am greatly afraid that he has been killed or badly hurt; if not,
I can see but one possible way of accounting for his absence. Mr.
Faulkner was extremely active in the pursuit of smugglers, and had, we
know, received many threatening letters. If the man was a smuggler, as
seems to me likely, he may have gone to some place where he had comrades
awaiting him, and, Julian pursuing him, may have been seized and made
prisoner. You see, sir, he knew many of them, and, after the affair the
other day, was probably regarded as a friend, and they may hold him in
their keeping only until the man who fired the shot can get safely out
of reach."
"I hope that this may prove so indeed," the magistrate said. "It is at
any rate possible. And now we will detain you no longer, for Mr.
Henderson told me that you were going to accompany them in their search
among the hills. I see that it is just beginning to snow, which will, I
fear, add to your difficulties."
For some days an active search was maintained, but no trace was
discovered of Julian Wyatt, or of the man whom he had followed. From
inquiries that had been instituted in the town, the chief constable had
learned that the man Markham, who had a few weeks before returned after
serving out his sentence for poaching in Mr. Faulkner's preserves, had
disappeared from his lodgings on the day of the murder and had not
returned. As he was known to have uttered many threats against the
magistrate, a warrant was issued for his arrest on the day after the
coroner's jury, having heard the whole of the evidence, brought in a
verdict that Mr. Faulkner had been wilfully murdered by a person or
persons unknown.