A SPLASH IN THE DARK
Carl Meason was angry because Jane left him, but he did not think she
would betray him. He was well paid for his villainy: large remittances
reached him by a round-about route. He was flush of money. He was
lost without Jane. She appealed to him. He did not love her but he
wanted her; she was his and he meant to get her back.
There would not be much risk in going to Trent Park, he thought. He
had warned her he would be dangerous if she gave him away, that she
would come to harm; she seemed frightened by his threats. It was not
likely she would brave them.
He understood why she left him, or thought so; it was because she knew
he undertook risks and might suffer as his accomplice if they were
caught.
"She'll have to come away with me," he said. "I'll square her father;
it's only a matter of cash."
It was some time after she left him he decided to take her away. He
wrote; she had not answered his letters. He cursed her for an
obstinate jade, vowing he would pay her out.
Jane showed her father his letters and he duly reported to Alan, who
ordered a watch to be kept round the Park and near the cottage. Abel
Head, Tom Thrush and several of the men at Trent Park were special
constables. They thought it would be a feather in their cap if they
caught a spy.
Carl Meason was cunning. He wished to find out how the land lay before
venturing there. He sent one of his confidential agents to make
inquiries. He returned in a couple of days, saying there were men
about, watching the place, evidently on the lookout for somebody.
From this Carl gathered Jane had given information against him and flew
into a terrible rage. Come of it what might he decided to punish her
even if he ran risks.
He made elaborate preparations for his journey, hired a small but
powerful car, disguised himself thoroughly. He was an adept at making
up. In New York he had more than once saved his life owing to his
skill. He knew the country well. He journeyed down in the daytime,
passing through Little Trent slowly, saw Abel Head at the door of the
Sherwood Inn, smiled as he noticed he was unrecognized. He went at the
same pace along the road leading past the wall where the door opened
near Tom Thrush's cottage.
Jane heard the motor, opened the door, and looked out. So well was he
disguised that she failed to recognize him or the car.
Motorists often went through the road in Trent Park and no notice was
taken of Meason and his car.
It so happened that Alan and his wife were in London and as there had
been no signs of Meason the watchers relaxed their vigilance. Tom
Thrush was of opinion Meason had cleared out because he was in danger
of being discovered; and Abel Head was of the same mind.
Jane felt safer. Perhaps he divined she had told of his doings and in
consequence he thought it safer to hide for a time. She was, however,
careful not to go far away from home, nor did she walk outside the
Park. There was no telling what a desperate man would do.
Fortune favored Carl Meason. The night was dark, misty; a dense white
stream covered the park, strangely thick and wetting. Leaving his
motor under the wall some distance from the door where it was hidden by
creepers overhanging, he concealed himself in one of the thick
embrasures and watched. He was well protected by his motor coat, light
but warm and water-proof.
He looked at his wrist watch. The illuminated figures showed it was
eight o'clock. He wondered at the pitchy blackness of the night,
unusual for the time of the year.
Listening intently he heard the door latch click; then it swung back
with a bang. It was opened again and Jane called out:
"Don't be late, Father. It's a bad night. I don't care to be left
alone."
"I'll be back in an hour, my lass, and bring Abel Head along with me.
He's plenty of time on his hands with these new restrictions in force."
It was Tom Thrush's voice; he was going to the Sherwood Inn. What a
stroke of luck! Such a chance would not occur again.
Carl Meason chuckled savagely as he heard Tom's footsteps die away in
the distance. Creeping out he felt his way back to the motor along the
wall, made sure all was right; the lights were low and covered by a
dark protection which entirely obliterated them. He had taken every
precaution and knew the way in the dark; he had only to keep to the
road and get clear away with Jane. Nobody was likely to be motoring on
such a night. He was still disguised. He wondered if she would
recognize his voice, he could alter it cleverly.
He banged at the door as though he had stumbled against it in the dark.
Jane was nervous, more so than she had been since her return. The
noise startled her; it could not be her father returning, still there
was a chance.
She listened. The knock came again, louder. She opened the cottage
door; the light from the lamp shone on the outer door leading to the
road.
"Who's there?" she asked, bravely, although her heart quaked.
"I've lost my way. I want to get to Little Trent," said Carl, in a
muffled voice.
"Go straight on," she said; "it's not far."
"Who lives here?"
"Thomas Thrush, Captain Chesney's gamekeeper."
"That's lucky; I know him. May I come in for a few minutes? I'm
tired."
She hardly knew what to say. If she refused he could force his way in;
whoever he was, she thought it better to grant his request; it was a
bad night to be out.
She opened the door and Carl stepped through. He walked into the
cottage.
"Thanks," he said; "is Mr. Thrush in?"
Jane hesitated a moment; then said:
"He's gone out; he will not be long. You know my father?"
"Quite well."
Something in his appearance was familiar; she looked at him curiously.
His eyes fascinated her; they were like a snake's, the eyes of Carl
Meason, her husband, as she remembered them to have looked several
times. It suddenly occurred to her that he might be her husband
disguised; she was almost certain it was. What must she do?
Carl watched her. He caught signs that she recognized him, he had not
much time to lose, he must make good use of it and act at once.
"It's me, my lady; I see you know me. Why did you run away from me?"
he said.
"What have you come here for in this disguise?" she said.
"To take you away. I am running great risks, but I want you, Jane, and
I think you're worth it. You ought to be flattered."
She must parley with him until her father and Abel were at hand.
"I shall not go with you," she said firmly.
"Oh, yes, you will; I think I can persuade you," he said, looking
threateningly at her. "You have given me away; that was not proper for
a wife."
She said nothing. If only she could detain him.
"Come, hurry up. Your father will not be back yet; he's gone to Little
Trent, I heard him say so," he said.
"I will not go," said Jane.
"You will, and now. There's your hat and coat. Put them on."
"No!"
He came toward her, looking terrible in his disguise.
"You see this," he said, taking a large knife from his pocket,
unsheathing it. "If you do not come at once I will kill you."
She shuddered. She knew he would do it; this was no empty threat.
Mechanically she took her hat and cloak and put them on.
"If you cry out I will use it," he said, holding up the knife. She did
not speak. He took her by the wrist and led her out; she was not so
afraid now, probably it was the safest plan to go with him--she could
escape again.
He pulled her rapidly along by the wall until he reached the motor.
"Get in," he said, turning on the small inside lamps.
Jane entered; she heard him fixing the starter; he got in and in a few
minutes the car moved.
"It all depends on yourself whether you come out of this alive," he
said savagely.
"Where are you going?" she asked.
"Anywhere on to the main road; you can say good-bye to Trent Park,
you'll never see it again," he said.
He intended to kill her when it was safe; she felt sure such was his
intention. Her faculties were alert. Was there a way out?
Her heart gave a throb, her hopes rose; if she could make him steer a
wrong course.
"You are not making for the main road," she said.
"Oh, yes, I am."
"You are not. If you upset the car you may be killed too," said Jane.
He hesitated; she might be right, there were several roads in the Park.
He wanted to get away as quickly as possible. He had no head lights;
it was safer.
"Which way ought I to go?" he asked.
"More to the left."
Jane knew the ground well; she could find her way in the dark almost as
certainly as her father. The car was nearing the road leading past the
moat and tower; it was not often used, but he would not be aware of
this in the dark.
"To the left?" he said. "There's no road there."
"Yes; a little farther on."
"You can see?" he said in surprise.
"I know the park as well in the dark as in the daytime," she answered.
He thought this not improbable; her father had taught her woodcraft,
the ways of the forest and the park.
"If you put me wrong you're done for," he said. "You'd better not play
tricks with me."
"Why should I when you threaten my life?" she replied quietly.
Her feelings were strung to the highest pitch; she was playing a
desperate game. She might lose her life, it was worth the risk. He
intended to kill her anyhow because she had given him away.
He thought her thoroughly frightened; she would hardly play him tricks,
she dare not. He underestimated her courage.
Jane peered into the blackness; she saw a faint line ahead and knew it
was the water in the moat. Her father had taught her to see water in
the dark--it comes easy when familiar with nature. Every sense was
alert; if she made a mistake he would not hesitate to kill her, for he
would know what she had tried to do.
The car jolted. Carl said angrily:
"We're off the road; what's your game? Take care."
"It's all right--a short cut to the main road. That's where you want
to go?" she said.
"The main road, yes."
"I'll tell you in a moment; turn sharp to the right then," said Jane.
The car went on. Jane's heart beat fast, her pulses throbbed
painfully. Would he do it, would he find out? It was an awful risk to
run.
"Now," she said as calmly and steadily as possible, "to the right."
Carl turned the steering wheel; the car swerved, bumped on the rough
grass; for a moment he seemed to lose control of it. He heard Jane
leap out; he could not see her.
She had played him a trick; where was he? His brain was on fire. He
acted like a madman, wild with rage; he tried to stop the car. In his
fumbling haste he failed.
There was a plunge, a great splash.
Jane, bruised and shaken on the ground where she had fallen, listened.