Witness to the Deed Part 54

"And you've got dozens of similar bottles about. Let's see, you've got something in your bathroom too."

Stratton made no reply, but stood gazing away from his friend.

"Wits wandering again," thought Guest. "Never mind, I did get him a little more like himself." Then aloud:

"I say, Mal."

Stratton turned upon him sharply.

"Wouldn't do to have a fire; why, you'd burn up poor old Brettison too."

Stratton's face looked as if it had been carved in stone.

"Such a collection, too, as he has spent years of his life in getting together."

"Come away, now," said Stratton hoa.r.s.ely, as he raised his hand once more to turn out the lamp.

"Yes; all right. No; stop!" cried Guest excitedly. Stratton smiled, and his hand remained as if fixed in the air.

"I have it," continued Guest.

Stratton did not speak, but remained there with his fingers close to the b.u.t.ton of the lamp, as if fixed in that position by his friend's words.

"Look here, old fellow," cried Guest excitedly. "History does repeat itself."

"What--what do you mean?"

"How long is it since poor old Brettison had that terrible illness?"

"I don't know--years; come away."

"Wait a moment. Well, he was lying helpless, dying, and you suspected something was wrong, broke open the old man's door, found him insensible, and nursed him back to life."

Stratton did not stir, but stood bent over the table, listening to his friend's words.

"Suppose he has come back unknown to you--as he often did--and gone in there. He is old. He may be lying there now. Mal, old chap, this place sends quite a chill through me. How do we know but what just on the other side yonder somebody may be lying dead?" and he pointed toward the closet door.

"Ah!"

No literary sign can give the exact sound of the hoa.r.s.e sigh which escaped from Stratton as his friend said those last words excitedly: and then, as if spurred by his imagination:

"It's as likely as can be. Mal, old fellow, as I said before, history does repeat itself. He has been missing a long time. Mrs Brade is very uneasy. You have been a great deal away. I tell you what it is-- it's an act of duty. I'll fetch up the police, and we'll break in and see."

As the words left Guest's lips he started, for there was a sudden flash; then, for a moment, his eyes were dazzled; the next he was in profound darkness.

Stratton's fingers, unseen by his friend, had closed upon and turned the b.u.t.ton of the lamp.

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR.

A STARTLING SITUATION.

Three steps back were sufficient--three steps taken suddenly in that profound darkness were enough, in the excitement of the moment, to make Guest completely lose what a nautical man would call "his bearings;"

and, startled, as well as puzzled, he waited, in utter ignorance of his position in the room, for what was to come next.

Time and again he had been uneasy, even startled, by his friend's actions, feeling that there was a certain amount of mental aberration.

He had felt, too, that it was quite possible that in some sudden paroxysm, when galled by his dictation, Stratton might strike at him, but until now he had never known absolute fear.

For, manly and reckless as he was as a rule, he could not conceal from himself that Stratton was, after all, dangerous. That turning out of the light had been intentional; there must have been an object in view, and, in his tremor of nerve, Guest could think of no other aim than that of making a sudden attack upon one who had become irksome to him.

They were quite alone in that solitary place. If he called for help, no one would hear, and he might be struck down and killed. Stratton, in his madness, might find some means of hiding his body, and--what then?

Edie--poor little Edie, with her bright ways and merry, teasing smiles?

He would never see her again; and she, too, poor little one, would be heart-broken, till some luckier fellow came along to make her happy.

"No, I'll be hanged if he shall," thought Guest, as a culmination to the rapid rush of thought that flashed through his brain. "Poor old Stratton is really as mad as a hatter; but, even if he has such thoughts, I've as good a chance as he has in the dark, and I'll die hard. Bah! who's going to die? Where's the window, or the door? Here, this is a nice game, Mal," he said aloud, quite firmly. "Where are your matches?"

But, as he spoke, he made a couple of rapid steps silently, to his right, with outstretched hands, so as to conceal his position from Stratton in the event of the latter meditating an attack--an event which Guest would not now allow.

There was no reply, and Guest stood listening for a few moments before speaking again.

"Do you hear?" he said. "You shouldn't have been in such a hurry. Open the door, or I shall be upsetting some of your treasures."

Half angry with himself for his cowardice, as he called it, he repeated his monologue and listened; but he could only hear the throbbings of his own heart.

"Well, of all the ways of getting rid of an unwelcome guest--no joke meant, old man--this is about the shadiest. Here," he cried, more excitedly now, in spite of his efforts to be calm, "why don't you speak?"

He did not step aside now, but stood firm, with his fists clenched, ready to strike out with all his might in case of attack, though even then he was fighting hard to force down the rising dread, and declaring to himself that he was a mere child to be frightened at being in the dark.

But he knew that he had good cause. Utter darkness is a horror of itself when the confusion of being helpless and in total ignorance of one's position is superadded. Nature plays strange pranks then with one's mental faculties, even as she does with a traveller in some dense fog, or the unfortunate who finds himself "bushed," or lost in the primeval forest, far from help and with the balance of his mind upset.

He learns at such a time that his boasted strength of nerve is very small indeed, and that the bravest and strongest man may succ.u.mb to a dread that makes him as timid as a child.

Small as was the s.p.a.ce in which he stood, and easy as it would have been, after a little calm reflection, to find door or window, Guest felt that he was rapidly losing his balance; for he dare not stir, face to face as he was with the dread that Stratton really was mad, and that in his cunning he had seized this opportunity for ridding himself of one who must seem to him like a keeper always on the watch to thwart him.

He remained there silent, the cold sweat breaking out all over his face, and his hearing strained to catch the sound of the slightest movement, or even the heavy breathing of the man waiting for an opportunity to strike him down.

For it was in vain to try and combat this feeling. He could find no other explanation in his confused mental state. That must be Stratton's intention, and the only thing to do was to be on the alert and master him when the time for the great struggle came.

There were moments, as Guest stood there breathing as softly as he could, when he felt that this horrible suspense must have been going on for hours; and, as he looked round, the blackness seemed to be full of strange, gliding points of light, which he was ready to think must be Stratton's eyes, till common-sense told him that it was all fancy.

Then, too, he felt certain that he could hear rapid movements and his enemy approaching him, but the sounds were made by his own pulses; otherwise all was still as death. And at the mental suggestion of death his horror grew more terrible than he could bear. He grew faint and giddy, and made a s.n.a.t.c.h in the air as if to save himself.

The sensation pa.s.sed off as quickly as it came, but in those brief moments Guest felt how narrow was the division between sanity and its reverse, and in a dread greater now than that of an attack by Stratton, he set his teeth, drew himself up, and forcing himself to grasp the fact that all this was only the result of a minute or two in the darkness, he craned forward his neck in the direction of where he believed Stratton to be, and listened.

Not a breath; not a sound.

There was a clock on the mantelpiece, and he tried to hear its calm, gentle tick, but gave that up on the instant, feeling sure that it must have been neglected and left unwound, and nerving himself now, he spoke out sharply:

"Look here, Mal, old fellow, don't play the fool. Either open the door, or strike a light, before I smash something valuable."