AN ASTOUNDING CONFESSION
"Very well," said Lena, when she had learned the young man's impressions
of Mr. Oliver Potter's capabilities, "we must do without him. We must
work by ourselves. I have a suggestion to make. Let me visit Major
Jones-Farnell, alias Meadows. It is somewhat irregular, I have no doubt,
but in such a case as this we must not be too particular."
"Excuse me, but you must do nothing of the kind," was the reply.
"Then let me go with you, and see what the two of us can do towards
discovering the secret of Durley Dene. I am sure that if once we can
discover who this Meadows is, what his relations are with the man Smith,
and who the creature that is held in restraint in the basement or cellar
of the house is--then, and not before, shall we be able to solve the
mystery."
"I don't at all like the idea of you coming with me. The ordeal was
quite bad enough for me; what would it be to you?"
"Sir!" Lena cried, with pretended severity, "I am able to stand any
ordeal that you can. You see, I am not afraid, or why should I have
suggested going alone?"
"Then shall we go together?"
"Yes, and as soon as possible. It is now eleven o'clock. Auntie will not
reappear until lunch. The detective is surely capable of looking after
your father's safety. What is to prevent us from going at once? You
agree? Then wait one moment while I put on my hat."
She hurried off, returning a minute later, prepared for the morning
visit.
Laurence, during her short absence, had filled his vesta case, and once
again placed the little pistol in his pocket.
"Now we can come," said Lena. And without delay they started off,
presently reaching the dark porch of the house of secrets.
Smith, as before, appeared in answer to their ring, but he was far from
ready to admit the pair. Finally he said he would consult the Major, and
banging the door in their faces, disappeared, to return in a few minutes
with a sour grin and a summons to follow upstairs.
This time Laurence struck a match on entering the house. The servant did
not object, but he kept very close to the visitors, eyeing the lady as
though coveting the bracelets she wore. The faint light of the match
revealed little, for the passages were unfurnished, and green mildew
clung to the stone walls. It was, however, a considerable aid to their
progress towards Mr. Meadows' sanctum. Anything was better, thought
Laurence, than the grim, impenetrable darkness of the previous visit.
As on the former occasion, the porter ushered them into the Oriental
chamber in which sat the owner of the house, withdrawing immediately
when they were once inside.
The doctor sprang to his feet immediately and held out his hand--which
Laurence appeared not to notice.
"Good-morning to you," he said politely. "Madam, I am more than honoured
by your visit. My only regret is the inefficiency of my establishment. I
think, though, you will find this chair comfortable, and trust the smell
of tobacco smoke does not inconvenience you. Unfortunately I have no
drawing-room, as your brother--I believe he is your brother--no?--then
your friend--will have told you."
He spoke fast, as though fearing that Laurence would commence by asking
unpleasant questions.
"Doctor Meadows," said Carrington, "this lady and I have come to you
to-day to endeavour to learn the reason of your remarkable behaviour of
late. I am aware that you would do anything rather than receive a visit
from the police, but that is one of the two alternatives I offer you
now. The other is that you explain fully your relations with my father,
Squire Carrington, of Northden Manse."
"Mr. Carrington," replied the doctor, "I told you the night before last
you are making some great mistake in connecting me in any way with your
father. Must I tell you so again now?"
"Then, answer me this. What were you doing in the grounds of our house
at midnight, shortly after my visit here and the attempt to murder my
father in his room? What were you doing, I ask, on that occasion; and
how comes it that on the following morning the stolen bicycle, by the
rider of which a former attack on the Squire was made, is found in the
shed from which it was taken?"
As Laurence spoke in a sharp, determined tone, both Lena and he noticed
that the colour died away from Doctor Meadows' cheeks. For a moment he
could not reply. His concern was very apparent. At last he answered.
"Mr. Carrington," he said, "I see that it is no use for me to withhold
anything from you. You have been too sharp for me. What if I were to
tell you that my secret has nothing whatever to do with your father or
the strange attempts to murder him in cold blood, and that it is only by
unfortunate circumstances I come to be suspected by you of connection
with the plot against the Squire?"
"I shouldn't believe it," replied Laurence, frankly and deliberately;
"however, I pray you to tell me your story. Do not forget, by the way,
that you have confessed to telling a pack of lies on different occasions
before now--about the Persian cat and the whip, the lunatic in the
cellar, your invalid Major, and so on. By the way, let me advise you, if
you wish to keep your secret from me, not to allow the creature
imprisoned downstairs to shriek while I am in the house."
So great was the effect of these words on Doctor Meadows that at first
Lena feared he was going to faint. He sank down into his chair, sweat
standing out on his forehead; then he sprang up and darted towards
Laurence as though about to attack him with his fists.
"Good God!" he cried. "How much do you know? Are you bent on ruining me?
Tell me, quickly, exactly, how much you know?"
Laurence was more than astounded at this outburst. Acting on a
suggestion of Lena, he had sprung upon the other a remark about the
creature whom he had seen in the barn, and who, according to Miss
Scott's mode of accounting for the various mysterious circumstances of
the case, was being held in restraint by the inhabitants of Durley Dene.
That the chance shot had gone home was surely proved by the excited
behaviour of Doctor Meadows.
For a moment Laurence hesitated. Should he play a game of "bluff" and
pretend that he knew all? He felt inclined to do this, but reflected
that he might be placing Lena in a position of danger were he to do so.
For, once Meadows believed his closely guarded secret was known, what
steps might not he take to compel those who had learned that secret to
keep silence? Consequently, he replied, "That is surely my own
business?"
But Doctor Meadows was not satisfied.
"That's no answer," he cried. "I must have an answer. How much do you
know? Tell me!"
"All I know is," responded Laurence, "that one of the members of your
household is moving heaven and earth to do away with my unhappy father,
and I shrewdly suspect which of you it is. I know better than to believe
that you and your servant alone occupy this house of dark deeds."
"There you are, bringing up that absurd notion that I (or, in your own
words, one of my household) am the author of the attempts on your
father's life. If you won't take my word for it that no one living in
this house is in any way responsible for the Squire's terrible position,
will it satisfy you if I swear upon the Book that such is the case?"
"You dare not," said Laurence positively.
"Not only do I dare to, but I will do so," answered Meadows; "but first,
tell me what you know about the person whom you allege is imprisoned in
this house."
"In the first place," Laurence replied, "I know that, for some reason or
other, he has been hiding in the Manse barn. Secondly, that he possesses
the activity of an ape; and, thirdly, that he is black, and that his
voice is the strangest I have ever heard."
"Thank Heaven!" muttered Meadows, not too low for the two visitors to
hear it. He sat down once again, and the colour returned to his cheeks.
"Are you satisfied that I know something about him?" asked Laurence,
none too pleased with the way in which the doctor had taken his
information.
"I am quite satisfied that you know nothing whatever about that which
you are pleased to call the mystery of this house. I confess that I have
a secret. Who has not? Mine is one that I am very anxious to keep.
Again, I say, who is not desirous of keeping secrets as such? Further, I
confess that you have had good grounds for mistrust. That bicycle
business was enough to lay me open to suspicion. What I am now going to
say I will repeat afterwards upon oath, if you so please, but, as a
gentleman, I hope my word will not be doubted. That bicycle was found by
my servant standing in the rear of this house the morning after what was
evidently the first attempt on your father's life. Whose it was, and
whence it came, was for the time a mystery. Then you honoured me with a
visit, and I learned in what an uncomfortable position circumstances had
placed me. As I say, I have no desire to emerge from the darkness of my
retirement. I did not wish you to know that I had found the bicycle, for
fear that you, doubting my word, would carry out your threat of
communicating with the police, and having the house searched. Therefore,
I secretly returned you the bicycle which evil destiny had given into my
hands.
"This I can safely say--and swear, if it please you--that there neither
has been, nor is, anything illegal or wrong going on in this house. Does
that satisfy you?"
No one answered. Laurence was inclined to doubt the man's word. He had
heard some equally astounding falsehoods from him before. Lena, also,
knew not whether to believe the statement or not.
"Then," said the doctor, "I will fetch a volume of the Testament. But
before going any further, tell me if you know any man who would answer
to this description--Medium height, iron-grey moustache, possibly a grey
beard, but I doubt it; age about sixty; peculiarly courteous and
old-fashioned as to speech; an abhorrer of tobacco in any form."
"That is the Squire--do you know him?" asked Lena and Laurence
excitedly, and almost in one breath.
"Ah!" responded Doctor Meadows. But his pronunciation of the
monosyllable was pregnant with meaning.