Mr. Marx's Secret Part 15

Nearer and nearer the steps came, and my heart began to beat very fast indeed. At last, peering earnestly through the gloom, I made out the shadowy figure of a man only a yard or two away from me, running in the middle of the road, and a pair of wild, burning eyes glistened like fire against the dark background. I felt his warm, panting breath upon my cheek, heard a low, fierce cry, and a second later saw the figure give a spring sideways and vanish in the shade of the barn wall.

I followed cautiously; but, although I groped about in all directions, I could see nothing. So I stood quite still with my back to the wall, and called out softly:

"Who are you? Why are you hiding from me?"

No answer. I tried again:

"I don't want to hurt you. I won't do you any harm. I only want to know who you are, and what----"

I never finished the sentence. I became suddenly conscious of two glaring eyes looking at me, like pieces of live coal, from a crumpled heap on the ground. Then there was a quick, panting snort, a spring, and I felt a man's long, nervous fingers clutching my throat. Gasping and choking for breath, I flung them off, only to find myself held as though in a vice by a pair of long arms. Drawing a deep breath, I braced myself up for the struggle with my unknown a.s.sailant.

More than once I gave myself up for lost, for my opponent was evidently a powerful man, and seemed bent on strangling me. But, fiercely though he struggled at first, I soon saw that his strength was only the frenzy of nervous desperation and that it was fast leaving him. By degrees I began to gain the upper hand, and at last, with a supreme effort, I threw him on his back and, before he could recover himself, I had my knee upon his chest and drew a long breath of relief.

I spoke to him, shouted, threatened, commanded; but he took no notice.

Then I peered down close into his upturned face and fierce eyes, and the truth flashed upon me at once. I had been struggling with a madman, a hopeless, raving lunatic, and it was probably he who had made the attack upon us in the carriage.

My first impulse was one of deep grat.i.tude for my escape; then I began to wonder what on earth I was to do with him. He was lying like a log now, perfectly quiet; but I knew that I had only to relax my hold upon him and the struggle would begin again--perhaps terminate differently. I could not take him into the house, for there was no room from which he could not easily escape. The only place seemed to me to be the coach-house. It was dry and clean, with no windows, save at the top, and with a good strong padlock. The coach-house would do, I decided, if only I could get him there.

I drew my handkerchief from my pocket, and, knotting it with my teeth, secured his hands as well as I could. Then, seizing him by the collar, I half dragged, half helped him up the garden path till we reached the coach-house, and, opening the door with one hand, I thrust him in. He made no resistance; in fact, he seemed utterly cowed; and a pitiable object he looked, crouched on the floor, with his face turned to the wall. I struck a match to obtain a better view of him.

His only attire was a grey flannel shirt and a pair of dark trousers, both of which were torn in places and saturated with rain. Of his face I could see little, for it was half hidden by the hair, matted with dirt and rain, and by his bushy whiskers and beard, ragged and unkempt. His feet were bare and black with a thick coating of mud; hence his soft, stealthy tread. Altogether, he was a gruesome object, as he lay a huddled heap against the wall, muttering to himself some unintelligible jargon.

Loosing his hands, I left him there, and, softly entering the house, found some food and rugs and took them out to him. He eyed the former ravenously, and before I could set it down he s.n.a.t.c.hed a piece of bread from my hands and began eagerly to devour it. I put the remainder down by his side and, throwing the rugs over him, stole away.

CHAPTER XX.

THE MONASTERY AMONG THE HILLS.

When I awoke in the morning the sun was already high in the heavens and it was considerably past my usual hour of rising. I jumped out of bed at once and began my toilet. I had scarcely finished my bath when there came a loud tap at the door.

"Hallo!" I cried out. "Anything the matter?"

"Yes, sir. Please, sir, John wants to know whether you locked anything up in the coach-house last night. There was----"

"Yes, I did," I interrupted quickly. "Tell him not to go there till I come down."

"Please, sir, it's too late," the girl answered, in a frightened tone.

"It's got away, whatever it is."

I dropped the towel with which I had been rubbing myself and hurried on my clothes. In a few minutes I was down in the yard, where several men were standing together talking. John left them at once and came to me.

"Why did you want to go to the coach-house so early?" I exclaimed, glancing at the wide-open door and empty interior. "I had an awful job to get that man in there last night, and now you've let him go."

"Well, sir, it was a fearful row he was a-making," explained John. "Soon as I came this morning, about five o'clock, I was pa.s.sing through the stack-yard when I heard an awful thumping at the coach-house door from the inside. Of course, I knew nowt about there being anyone theer, so I just goes straight up and opens the door, to see what was the matter, like, and, lor, I did 'ave a skeer, and no mistake! It wur quite dark, and I could see nowt but a pair o' heyes a-glaring at me as savage as a wild animal's. 'Coom out o' this 'ere and let's ha' a look at yer,' I says, for, d'ye see, I thought as it wur someone who had crept in unbeknown in the daytime and got locked in by mistake. There warn't no answer, and I wur just about to strike a match and 'ave a look at 'im, when he springs at me like a wild cat. I tried to hold him and I'm darned if he didn't nearly make his teeth meet through my hand."

He touched his right hand lightly, and I noticed for the first time that it was bandaged up.

"He got away from you, then?" I remarked.

"Got away from me?" John repeated, in a tone of utter disgust. "He warn't such a sweet-looking object, or sweet-tempered 'un either, that I wur over-anxious for the pleasure of his company, he warn't! I just got my hand out of his jaws and let him go as fast as he liked, with a jolly good kick behind to help him on, too. You see, sir, I didn't know as you'd anything to do with putting him in there," the man added apologetically. "I thought he'd got in quite promiscuous-like."

To tell the truth, although I had been alarmed at first, I did not particularly regret what had happened. At any rate, it saved me the bother of going over to the police-station at Mellborough. Still, the thought that he might even now be lurking about in the vicinity, with plenty of opportunities to provide a weapon for himself, was not altogether a pleasant one.

"Who might he have been, sir?" John inquired curiously.

"Just what I should like to know," I answered. "He's a lunatic and a dangerous one, that's certain--escaped from some asylum, I should think."

And I told him of my adventure on the previous night, to which the whole group listened open-mouthed.

"I'm thinking, sir," John remarked, when I had finished, "that it'd be as well for Foulds and I to have a scour round and see if we can't find him, or he'll be doing someone a mischief."

"If you are not very busy I wish you would," I said. "I don't feel quite easy at the thought of his wandering about round here. If you do find him, lock him up and send word to the police-station at Mellborough."

After breakfast that morning my mother made a request which startled me almost as much it delighted me.

"I am going to walk over to the monastery, Philip," she said quietly.

"Will you come with me?"

"Of course I will, mother," I answered promptly. "Nothing could give me greater pleasure. When will you start?"

"I shall be ready in half an hour," she said, with a faint smile, as though she were pleased at my ready acquiescence. Then she left the room to get ready.

In about the time she had mentioned she came into the garden to me and we started on our walk. It was a very uneventful one, but I don't think that I shall ever forget it. My mother seemed, after her brief relapse into comparative kindness, to have become more inaccessible than ever; and she walked along by my side, with downcast eyes and a nervous, thoughtful expression on her pale face.

I, too, felt somewhat depressed at starting, but soon the fresh, pure air, becoming stronger and stronger as we left the road and followed the footpath by Beacon Hill, had its invariable effect upon my spirits. All perplexing thoughts and forebodings of trouble pa.s.sed away from me like magic, and my heart beat and the blood flowed through my veins with all the impetuous ardour of sanguine youth.

At the top of the hill we paused, I to look round upon my favourite scene, my mother to rest for a moment. Then we saw how great had been the storm of the night before.

Here and there were the bare trunks of trees and many a cattle-shed and barn stood roofless. The storm seemed to have worked havoc everywhere, save where, on the summit of its wooded hill, Ravenor Castle, with its great range of mighty battlements, its vast towers, and grey walls of invincible thickness, frowned down upon the country at its feet. Looking across at it, it seemed to me that the place had never seemed so imposing as then.

My mother stood by my side and noticed my intent gaze.

"You admire Ravenor Castle very much, Philip?" she said quietly.

I withdrew my eyes with an effort.

"I do, mother," I confessed; "very much indeed. The place has a sort of fascination for me--and the man who lives there!"

My mother had turned a little away from me and stood with face upturned to heaven and mutely moving lips. Out of her eyes I could see the tears slowly welling, and her tall slim figure was convulsed with sobs. I sprang to her side and caught hold of her hand.

"What is it, mother?" I cried. "Tell me!"

She shook her head sadly.

"Not now, Philip--not now. Come, let us go!"