GOOD NEWS AND BAD
The Squire, with his marked punctuality, was down in the dining-room
when Laurence appeared next morning. He was pale and moody, carefully
avoiding any allusion to the event of the previous night. His son could
not help noticing the bulge in his coat, that betrayed the hiding-place
of Mr. Carrington's revolver. He was inclined to smile at the idea of
the old gentleman attempting to defend himself, for he had made no
effort to do so the night before.
After breakfast, Laurence made his way into the garden for a smoke. The
day had brightened up, and the sun had made a welcome appearance in the
heavens.
The Manse gardener was working outside one of the greenhouses, and
respectfully saluted young Carrington as he strolled up to him.
"Well, Head," Laurence remarked, "seen anything of our mysterious
neighbours?"
He had been careful to impress upon Kingsford and Moggin the necessity
of keeping silent about the attempt on the Squire's life, and merely
asked the question because it was one which interested him and the
gardener also.
"Yes, sir," responded Head promptly, "we're beginning to learn something
about them. Either Major Jones, or his seckitary, or the hodd man rides
a bicycle."
Laurence could not help staring at this intelligence. The gardener,
however, did not notice his young master's movement, and proceeded.
"Well, you see, sir, it was this way. My little girl, she tumbled into
the nettles late last evening, and, lor! wasn't there a shindy! The wife
doctored the stings as best she could, and put the youngster to bed, she
and I following soon after. Well, about half-past ten the poor child,
not being able to sleep because of the blisters caused by the nettles,
my wife said to me, 'Head,' she says, 'just you run out and gather some
dock weed to lay on the blisters.' Up I got to do as she asked me, and
went out. You know my house, sir? Well, I was going along the hedge at
the bottom of the garden, just by the road, when I spied a cluster of
docks at the corner by the fence that cuts our garden off from the Dene.
As I was gathering some large leaves, what should I happen to do but
look over the wall and see a queer man creeping along on the other side
leading a bicycle. He jumps through a gap in the hedge, bicycle and
all, and rides off down the road. Of course in the dark I couldn't
hascertain what his features were like, sir."
"Indeed," broke in Laurence, in a tone which was meant to signify that
the incident did not interest him so much as it really did, "and this
bicyclist of yours, from which direction did he come?"
"I suppose he came from the house, sir; where else? Though it did strike
me as funny that he should go out of his way as he did, for he started
off in the direction of the East Cave and the Markiss's."
"And you saw no more of him?"
"No, sir."
Laurence moved away in the direction of the house, whence simultaneously
there emerged old Mr. Carrington and his watch-dog, Kingsford.
"My dear Laurence," said the former, in evident consternation, "read
this. The Marquis has just sent it over by special messenger." He handed
his son a pencil-scrawled note as he spoke. This Laurence took, and
found that it read as follows:
"Dear CARRINGTON,--
"A terrible event occurred at my place last night. Shortly
after you left an alarm of 'Fire' was raised. You can
imagine the scene of disorder that resulted! I managed to
get everyone out of the way, when we found that the house
was blazing in half a dozen places. How it caught fire I
cannot even dream, but I know that, were it not for the fact
that I am well insured, I should be the most miserable
creature on earth! Nothing but blackened ruins is left of
the scene of yesterday's festivities! I am asking you to put
up Mrs. Knox and her niece, Miss Scott, since I am unable to
accommodate them. They were to be my guests for a fortnight,
and cannot return home, as their own house is in the hands
of the painter. Would you be so kind as to endeavour to
manage at least a shake-down for the two ladies for a few
days, as I do not wish to make them incur the inevitable
annoyance and expense of an hotel existence? I am staying,
and intend to do so, with Crooker, my agent, and have sent
the wife to Southsea to stay with her sister. Let me know if
you can oblige me. I believe you have met Mrs. Knox several
times at my house.--Yours,
"MOORLAND."
Laurence perused the letter with a faint smile on his handsome face.
"Of course you will put them up?" he asked his father.
"Of course!" responded the Squire; "but what do you think of the fire?
Isn't it terrible?"
"Terrible? How so? Fires must occur sometimes!"
"Of course, but this is the work of an incendiary!"
"Yes, Dad, it certainly looks like it; but why should you be so alarmed
about it? The Marquis is well insured, and, if you are as frightened of
fire as you are of burglars, why, it's hardly likely that two blazes
should occur in the same district within, well, a dozen years."
Laurence said this to pacify his father, who was almost trembling, with
either fear or horror. But he little expected the Squire's response--
"I was thinking how narrowly we escaped, and," the old man muttered,
half aloud, as he moved away, "how desperately this wretch is sealing my
doom!"