THE MYSTERY DEEPENS
Geoffrey recognized the deep rasping tones of Tchigorsky directly. His
hand dropped to his side. No need to tell him that danger was in the
air. It was the thick, still kind of night that goes with adventure.
"Something has happened?" Geoffrey asked.
"Something is going to happen unless we prevent it," Tchigorsky replied.
"The enemy has been foiled three times lately and is getting uneasy. He
begins to realize that he has to cope with somebody who understands the
game. It is no use to work in this deadly mysterious fashion as long as
certain people can read the danger signals and act upon them, and
therefore it has been decided to fall back upon more vulgar methods. You
are not afraid of danger?"
"Not in the least. Try me."
"The danger is great. You are dealing with some of the cleverest people
on earth. If you are discovered you will be put away. Your courage will
be tested to the utmost. Are you ready?"
Geoffrey hesitated but for a moment. His senses seemed to be braced and
strengthened. He seemed to hear better all at once; his eyes penetrated
farther into the gloom. There was a feeling of eagerness, of exultation
upon him. He took Tchigorsky's lean claw and laid it upon his left
wrist.
"Feel that," he said. "Is not my pulse steady? I am longing to go
forward. Only give me a chance to find the truth."
Tchigorsky chuckled. This was the kind of grit he admired.
"You will do," he said. "And you will go alone on your expedition. You
are acquainted with all the vaults and passages of the castle by this
time; every inch of the ground is known to you. Give me your coat and
shoes."
Geoffrey handed them over, getting a pair of rubber-soled shoes and a
rough pea jacket in exchange. In the pocket of the latter he found a
revolver.
"Now what am I to do?" he demanded.
"Stand here," Tchigorsky explained. "Presently you will see a figure or
two, perhaps more. You will not understand what they are saying, but
that makes no difference. You are to follow them, stick to them. If
nothing happens by dawn you can afford to leave them to their own
devices. If circumstances place you in dire peril, be brave, for help is
not far off."
Geoffrey might have asked another question or two. But Tchigorsky turned
away abruptly and was speedily lost in the darkness. And then followed
for Geoffrey the most trying part of the business, waiting for the first
sign of the foe.
Half an hour passed and still no sign. Had the affair miscarried and the
miscreants got away in some other direction? Strain his ears as he
would, Geoffrey could catch nothing. Then at length something soft and
rustling seemed to be creeping along on the lawn on the other side of
the hedge.
Geoffrey crept through the gate into the garden. Almost instantly he
dropped on his face, for somebody carrying a lantern was softly creeping
in his direction. It was the figure of a woman, a woman who had a black
lace shawl so wrapped about her that in the feeble light it was
impossible to make out her features. She paused and made a hissing sound
between her teeth.
As if they had been evolved out of Geoffrey's inner consciousness, there
appeared two men upon the lawn One was lying on his back, his head
supported on the arm of his companion. They were Indian natives of some
kind, but of what race precisely Geoffrey could not say. The prostrate
man had an ugly cut across his forehead; it was the same man that
Geoffrey had seen looking through the window.
A crafty, ugly, sinister face it was, full of cunning malignity. The
eyes were dull, but the fires of hate were still in them. The woman
stooped down and produced cool bandages soaked in some pungent liquid,
which she proceeded to bind round the brows of the injured man. Even at
his respectful distance Geoffrey could catch the odor of the bandages.
He watched the weird midnight scene with breathless interest. There was
something creepy about the whole business. If these people had nothing
to conceal, all this surgical work might have taken place indoor; they
might have called assistance. Geoffrey tried to catch sight of the
woman's features.
But that was impossible. Still, there was something familiar about her.
Geoffrey felt quite sure that he had seen that graceful figure before.
She stood up presently and Geoffrey no longer had any doubt.
It was Mrs. Mona May.
The injured man rose also. He staggered along on the arm of his
companion and Geoffrey could with some difficulty see them enter the
sitting room. He paused in some doubt as to his next move, but before he
was called upon to decide, Mrs. May and the other native came out again.
Evidently they had left the injured man behind. Then they emerged into
the road and started off rapidly toward the cliffs.
"Going some way by the pace they are walking," Geoffrey muttered, "and
at the same time they must be back before daylight, or they would never
have dared to leave that fellow at Jessop's. What a good thing I know
the country."
Geoffrey followed at a respectful distance, his rubber shoes making no
sound. For the time of year the night was intensely dark, which was in
Geoffrey's favor. Also, with his close knowledge of the locality, he had
no fear of making mistakes.
The couple were not more than fifty yards ahead of him. They had not the
slightest idea they were being followed, seeing that they were talking
earnestly and none too quietly in a language that was Greek to Geoffrey.
Now and again he caught the low laugh that came from the woman's lips.
By and by the cliffs were reached, and here the two began to descend a
path that would have been dangerous to unaccustomed feet even in the
broad daylight. But the man seemed to know the way perfectly and the
woman followed without hesitation. They came presently to the firm sand,
fringed by the ebbing tide.
Then they turned to the right, pausing at length before a solid-looking
expanse of cliff that stood right under Ravenspur Castle. One moment
they loomed darkly against the brown rocks, the next minute they seemed
to be swallowed up by the cliffs. They had entered the mouth of a cave.
Geoffrey followed still more cautiously. On and on they went, until at
length they paused. Then the light from the lantern grew stronger. From
behind a ledge of seaweed-clad granite Geoffrey watched them furtively.
They were waiting for something--a signal, probably--before going
farther.
The signal seemed to come at last, from where it was impossible for
Geoffrey to judge, and then the advance was resumed. Presently they
emerged into the deep below-tide level vault under the castle, where
Geoffrey had seen Marion walking in her sleep.
Mrs. May turned to her companion and gave him some sharp command. She
had lost all her levity and Geoffrey could see that her dark eyes were
glowing. The native salaamed and laid his hand upon the lantern. The
next instant the place was plunged into pitchy darkness. Five, ten
minutes passed, and nothing was heard but the lap of the ebbing tide on
the shore. Then a hand was gently laid on Geoffrey's arm.