THE OLD WELL.
Public feeling had grown so strong that it could no longer be
disregarded, and the authorities had to take up the case. It was
enforced upon their attention in many ways. The whole county urged it
upon them, and journals of note in different parts of the kingdom
denounced their lethargy. Under these circumstances they were compelled
to take some action.
Wiggins had foreseen this, and to guard against this necessity he had
himself done all in his power to search after the missing man. He had
put the case in the hands of detectives, who had carried on an
investigation in all quarters, and in every possible way; but to no
purpose, and with no result. When at length the authorities came, he
informed them of his search and its failure, but assured them that he
still believed that Captain Dudleigh was alive. His theory was that,
being heavily in debt, he had taken this mode of eluding his creditors,
and after causing it to be believed that he was dead, he had quietly
disappeared, and was now enjoying himself somewhere on the Continent.
No one else, however, shared this opinion, and those who came to the
search had no doubt that the missing man had been murdered. So they
instituted a regular search over the whole estate. They began with the
Hall, and went through every part of it. Then they turned their
attention to the grounds These were extensive, and it seemed probable
that somewhere among the groves or swamps the remains might be found.
They searched the chapel and the vaults. They dragged the pond in front
of the house. In all this Wiggins lent his active assistance toward
furthering the ends of justice, but at the same time retained the
firmest conviction that it was a trick of Dudleigh's, and that he was
now in foreign parts.
At length some of those who had been going the rounds of the wall
returned to the house, carrying something, the sight of which produced a
profound excitement. It was the hook and rope by which Edith, had sought
to escape. They found it hanging upon the wall, and every one recognized
at a glance the intention of this rope-ladder. But the thing that
produced the strongest excitement was something else. They had found it
lying among the grass at the foot of the ladder, having evidently been
dropped by some fugitive as an impediment, or thrown away as useless. It
was a dagger, which, from being so long exposed to the weather, was
covered with rust, but was still sharp and deadly.
This dagger seemed at once to confirm the general impression. It showed
that one of the fugitives of that night--the one who had escaped--had
been armed with a deadly weapon. Every one knew who the one was who had
escaped. Every one had already suspected her. Her wild flight, her
terrible agitation, her long illness--all had been known. What else
could cause such a state of things but the dread remembrance of some
dark crime? And now this dagger lay before them, the silent proof of the
guilt of her who had left it there.
Upon Wiggins the effect was crushing. His tongue was paralyzed. He kept
aloof after that, with despair on his face, and surveyed the proceedings
at a distance. Not so Mrs. Dunbar. All this time she had been feverish
and agitated, sometimes following the officers, at other times retiring.
Upon her the sight of that dagger acted like something that confirmed
the worst of her fears, and she burst forth into wild wails and
lamentations. She then urged the officers to renewed search, and
finally told them all about her own discovery of the empty rooms on that
eventful morning, and the singular behavior of the dog.
The mention of this created new excitement, and they at once asked where
the dog now was.
Mrs. Dunbar did not know. The dog had disappeared most mysteriously, and
they had seen nothing of him for a long time.
They then asked to be taken to the place where the dog had stationed
himself. Mrs. Dunbar, still wild with excitement, led the way there.
Arriving at the spot, they examined it narrowly, but found nothing. It
was grass, which had not been touched for years. No body lay buried
beneath that old turf, as was plainly evident. They then went to the
out-houses, toward which Mrs. Dunbar told them the dog had kept his
face, turned for some time when she had first seen him; but here they
found nothing whatever.
It was now late, and they began to think of retiring, when suddenly one
of the party, who had been walking in the rear of the stables, gave a
call which drew them all in that direction. Upon reaching him they found
him standing at the edge of a pit, which looked like an old well. Over
this there was still the frame of what had been the well-house, and the
well itself was very deep. Kneeling, they all peered into the black
depths beneath them, but discovered nothing. One of them dropped a
stone, and the sound far below showed that the bottom lay at least sixty
or eighty feet from the surface.
“How long since this well has been used?” asked the sheriff.
“Many years,” said Mrs. Dunbar.
“Did you examine it?”
“We never thought of doing so.”
“Well, we may as well try it. Can we have a rope?”
“Certainly,” said Mrs. Dunbar, who at once went to the house, and soon
returned with Hugo, who carried a long stout rope.
Now it remained to explore the well, and to do this it would be
necessary for some one to descend. But no difficulty was found in this.
By this time all had been stimulated to the highest degree by the
excitement of the search, and there was something in the look of the
well which made it seem like the very place for the hurried disposal of
a body. Here, then, they were all convinced, if any where, they would be
sure to come upon that which they sought. Accordingly several
volunteered to go down; but the sheriff chose from among them the one
who seemed fittest for that purpose, and to the others was allotted the
task of lowering him. Some further time was taken up in making the
necessary preparations for this; but at length these were all completed,
and the man who was to go down, after binding one end of the rope about
his chest and giving the other end to his companions, prepared to
descend.
The well was not very wide, and was lined around its sides with rough
stones. In the interstices between these he inserted his feet and hands,
and thus he let himself down, descending gradually.
The others knelt around the mouth of the well, holding the rope, and
letting it pass through their hands as their companion descended,
peering silently into the dark with eager eyes, and listening
breathlessly to the dull sounds made by the man below as he descended
further and further.
At last all was still. From below there came no sound. He had reached
the bottom. More anxiously than ever they tried to pierce through the
gloom, but that gloom was impenetrable. Their companion delayed long.
They began to feel uneasy.
At length they heard sounds, and knew that he was ascending. With what
intelligence? What had he found in that awful abyss? This was the
question which was suggested to every heart, but a question which no one
could answer They lent their assistance, and pulled at the rope to help
their companion. Nearer and nearer he came, and still nearer, until at
last he was within reach. A few moments more and he emerged from the
mouth of the well, and falling forward, he lay for a moment motionless.
They all rushed to his assistance, but he shook them off and rose to his
feet.
“Did you find any thing?”
“Yes,” said the man, in a hollow voice.
“What?” cried all, in breathless suspense.
“You shall see. Bring lights here, somebody. It's getting too dark for
this business.”
Hugo was at once dispatched to the Hall by Mrs. Dunbar for lights. There
was by this time every necessity for them. Much time had been taken up
with their preparations, and the shadows of evening had already gathered
about them. While Hugo was gone they all questioned their companion,
but he refused to say any thing.
“Don't ask me,” he replied. “Wait and see for yourselves.”
At this answer there was but one conviction in the minds of all, which
was that the object of their search had been found. But there was now
no further delay. Hugo soon returned with a lantern, and the man
prepared to descend once more. The lantern he hung about his neck, and
taking another piece of rope with him, the end of which was left with
those above, he again went down. This time he was gone longer than
before. Those above peering through the gloom could see a faint light
far below, and the shadowy outline of their companion.
At length he began to ascent, and in due time reached the top.
“There,” said he; “you may pull on that line. I have fastened it so
that it'll hold.”
Saying this, he flung himself exhausted on the grass, and unslung the
lantern and unbound the rope.
The others pulled. There was a heavy weight at the end of the rope.
They could all conjecture well what that dead-weight might be. But the
fierce curiosity that now animated them stimulated them to put forth all
their strength in a series of vigorous pulls. Nearer and nearer came
that weight to the top. At last it hung just beneath them. Half a
dozen hands were stretched out, and in an instant it was jerked out and
lay upon the grass.
The sheriff seized the lantern and held it up. The scene was one of
horror. All around was the gloom of night, the shadowy outline of trees
and of the out-houses. A flickering light revealed a group of men
surrounding some object on the grass, upon which they gazed in silent
awe.
It was a shapeless, sodden mass, but the human outline was preserved,
and the clothes were there, recognizable. It was a grisly, a hideous
sight, and it held them all spellbound.
But suddenly the silence was broken. A wild shriek burst forth from
Mrs. Dunbar, who the next instant fell forward upon the hideous object.
Hugo seized her and raised her up. She was senseless.
“What is this?” cried the stern voice of Wiggins, who at that moment had
come to the place.
“Mrs. Dunbar has fainted,” said the sheriff; and then he pointed
silently to the Thing that lay in the midst of the circle of spectators.
Wiggins looked at it, and seemed turned to stone. Then a shudder passed
through him. Then he turned away.
As he walked he staggered like one who has received some terrible blow,
and staggering on in his way, he passed out of sight into the gloom.
After this Mrs. Dunbar was carried into the house by Hugo.
There was silence for a long time.
“The head is gone!” said the sheriff at
length, in a low voice.
“Yes,” said another; “it's been long in the water.”
“Water couldn't do it,” said the sheriff; “it was gone before it went
into the water.”
“What was that for?”
“To prevent identification,” said the sheriff, in a significant tone.
The remains were in due time conveyed to an appropriate place, together
with the rope and the dagger. On the following day a search was made
for the missing head. The well was pumped dry, a task in which there
was little difficulty, as there was little more than two feet of water
in it, but nothing of the kind was found. Then they dragged the pond,
but without result. The search was also continued elsewhere, but it was
equally unsuccessful.
It was then concluded that the murderer had removed the head of his
victim to prevent identification, and had buried it somewhere, but that
the traces of burial had been obliterated by the lapse of time. The only
wonder was that the clothes should have been allowed to remain by one
who had been so much on his guard as to decapitate his victim.
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