|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 49
"Stop, Harley!" I said, sternly. "Stop."
He ceased speaking, and I watched the steady glow of his cigarette in
the darkness. It lighted up his bronzed face and showed me the steely
gleam of his eyes.
"You are counting too much on the locking of the door by Pedro," I
continued, speaking very deliberately. "He is a man I would trust no
farther than I could see him, and if there is anything dark underlying
this matter you depend that he is involved in it. But the most natural
explanation, and also the most simple, is this--Colonel Menendez has
been taken seriously ill, and someone is in his room in the capacity of
a nurse."
"Her behaviour was scarcely that of a nurse in a sick-room," murmured
Harley.
"For God's sake tell me the truth," I said. "Tell me all you saw."
"I am quite prepared to do so, Knox. On three occasions, then, I saw
the figure of a woman, who wore some kind of loose robe, quite clearly
silhouetted upon the linen blind. Her gestures strongly resembled those
of despair."
"Of despair?"
"Exactly. I gathered that she was addressing someone, presumably
Colonel Menendez, and I derived a strong impression that she was in a
condition of abject despair."
"Harley," I said, "on your word of honour did you recognize anything in
the movements, or in the outline of the figure, by which you could
identify the woman?"
"I did not," he replied, shortly. "It was a woman who wore some kind of
loose robe, possibly a kimono. Beyond that I could swear to nothing,
except that it was not Mrs. Fisher."
We fell silent for a while. What Paul Harley's thoughts may have been I
know not, but my own were strange and troubled. Presently I found my
voice again, and:
"I think, Harley," I said, "that I should report to you something which
Miss Beverley told me this evening."
"Yes?" said he, eagerly. "I am anxious to hear anything which may be of
the slightest assistance. You are no doubt wondering why I retired so
abruptly to-night. My reason was this: I could see that you were full
of some story which you had learned from Miss Beverley, and I was
anxious to perform my tour of inspection with a perfectly unprejudiced
mind."
"You mean that your suspicions rested upon an inmate of Cray's Folly?"
"Not upon any particular inmate, but I had early perceived a distinct
possibility that these manifestations of which the Colonel complained
might be due to the agency of someone inside the house. That this
person might be no more than an accomplice of the prime mover I also
recognized, of course. But what did you learn to-night, Knox?"
I repeated Val Beverley's story of the mysterious footsteps and of the
cries which had twice awakened her in the night.
"Hm," muttered Harley, when I had ceased speaking. "Assuming her
account to be true----"
"Why should you doubt it?" I interrupted, hotly.
"My dear Knox, it is my business to doubt everything until I have
indisputable evidence of its truth. I say, assuming her story to be
true, we find ourselves face to face with the fantastic theory that
some woman unknown is living secretly in Cray's Folly."
"Perhaps in one of the tower rooms," I suggested, eagerly. "Why,
Harley, that would account for the Colonel's marked unwillingness to
talk about this part of the house."
My sight was now becoming used to the dusk, and I saw Harley vigorously
shake his head.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|