CHAPTER VI

THE GATHERING OF THE CLOUDS

"Mr. Gregg," exclaimed the girl with agitation, as she put forth her

black-gloved hand, "I--I suppose you know--you've heard all about the

discovery to-day up at the wood? I need not tell you anything about it"

"Yes, Miss Leithcourt, I only wish you would tell me about it," I said

gravely, inviting her to a chair and seating myself. "I've heard some

extraordinary story about a man being found dead, but I've been in

Dumfries nearly all day. Who is the man?"

"Ah! that we don't know," she replied, pale-faced and anxious. Her

attitude was as though she wished to confide in me and yet still

hesitated to do so.

"You've been waiting for me quite a long time, Davis tells me. I regret

that you should have done this. If you had left word that you wished to

see me, I would have come over to you at once."

"No. I wanted to see you alone--that's the reason I am here. They must

not know at home that I've been over here, so I purposely asked the man

not to announce me to your aunt."

"You want to see me privately," I said in a low, earnest voice. "Why? Is

there any service I can render you?"

"Yes. A very great one," she responded with quick eagerness,

"I--well--the fact is, I have summoned courage to come to you and beg

of you to help me. I am in great distress--and I have not a single

friend whom I can trust--in whom I can confide."

"I shall esteem it the highest honor if you will trust me," I said in

deep earnestness. "I can only assure you that I will remain loyal to

your interests and to yourself."

"Ah! I believe you will, Mr. Gregg!" she declared with enthusiasm, her

large, dark eyes turned upon me--the eyes of a woman in sheer and bitter

despair. Her face was perfect, one of the most handsome I had ever gazed

upon. The more I saw of her the greater was the fascination she held

over me.

A silence fell between us as she sat with her gloved hands lying idly in

her lap. Her lips moved nervously, but no sound came from them, so

agitated was she, so eager to tell me something; and yet at the same

time reluctant to take me into her confidence.

"Well?" I asked at last in a low voice. "I am quite ready to render you

any service, if you will only command me."

"Ah! But I fear what I require will strike you as so unusual--you will

hesitate to act when I explain what service I require of you," she said

doubtfully.

"I cannot tell you until I hear your wishes," I said, smiling, and yet

puzzled at her attitude.

"It concerns the terrible discovery made up in Rannoch Wood," she said

in a hoarse, nervous voice at last. "That unknown man was

murdered--stabbed to the heart."

"Well?"

"Well," she said, scarcely above a whisper, "I have suspicions."

"Of the murdered man's identity?"

"No. Of the assassin."

I glanced at her sharply and saw the intense look in her dark, wide-open

eyes.

"You believe you know who dealt the blow?"

"I have a suspicion--that is all. Only I want you to help me, if you

will."

"Most certainly," I responded. "But if you believe you know the assassin

you probably know something of the victim?"

"Only that he looked like a foreigner."

"Then you have seen him?" I exclaimed, much surprised.

My remark caused her to hold her breath for an instant. Then she

answered, rather lamely, it seemed to me:

"I saw him when the keepers brought the body to the castle."

Now, according to the account I had heard, the police had conveyed the

dead man direct from the wood into Dumfries. Was it possible, therefore,

that she had seen Olinto before he met with his sudden end?

I feared to press her for an explanation at that moment, but,

nevertheless, the admission that she had seen him struck me as a very

peculiar fact.

"You judge him to be a foreigner?" I remarked as casually as I could.

"From his features and complexion I guessed him to be Italian," she

responded quickly, at which I pretended to express surprise. "I saw him

after the keepers had found him."

"Besides," she went on, "the stiletto was evidently an Italian one,

which would almost make it appear that a foreigner was the assassin."

"Is that your own suspicion?"

"No."

"Why?"

She hesitated a moment, then in a low, eager voice she said:

"Because I have already seen that three-edged knife in another person's

possession."

"That's pretty strong evidence," I declared. "The person in question

will have to prove that he was not in Rannoch Wood last evening at

nightfall."

"How do you know it was done at nightfall?" she asked quickly with some

surprise, half-rising from her chair.

"I merely surmised that it was," I responded, inwardly blaming myself

for my ill-timed admission.

"Ah!" she said with a slight sigh, "there is more mystery in this affair

than we have yet discovered, Mr. Gregg. What, I wonder, brought the

unfortunate young man up into our wood?"

"An appointment, without a doubt. But with whom?"

She shook her head, saying:

"My father often goes to that spot to shoot pigeon in the evening. He

told us so at luncheon to-day. How fortunate he was not there last

night, or he might be suspected."

"Yes," I said. "It is a very fortunate circumstance, for it cannot be a

pleasant experience to be under suspicion of being an assassin. He was

at home last night, was he?" I added casually.

"Of course. Don't you recollect that when you called he chatted with

you? I did some typewriting for him in the study, and we were together

all the afternoon--or at least till nearly five o'clock, when we went

out into the hall to tea."

"Then what is your theory regarding the affair?" I inquired, rather

puzzled why she should so decisively prove an alibi for her father.

"It seems certain that the poor fellow went to the wood by appointment,

and was killed. But have you been up to the spot since the finding of

the body?"

"No. Have you?"

"Yes. The affair interested me, and as soon as I recognized the old

Italian knife in the hand of the keeper, I went up there and looked

about. I am glad I did so, for I found something which seems to have

escaped the notice of the detectives."

"And what's that?" I asked eagerly.

"Why, about three yards from the pool of blood where the unfortunate

foreigner was found is another small pool of blood where the grass and

ferns around are all crushed down as though there had been a struggle

there."

"There may have been a struggle at that spot, and the man may have

staggered some distance before he fell dead."

"Not if he had been struck in the heart, as they say. He would fall,

would he not?" she suggested. "No. The police seem very dense, and this

plain fact has not yet occurred to them. Their theory is the same as

what you suggest, but my own is something quite different, Mr. Gregg. I

believe that a second person also fell a victim," she added in a low,

distinct tone.

I gazed at her open-mouthed. Did she, I wondered, know the actual truth?

Was she aware that the woman who had fallen there had disappeared?

"A second person!" I echoed, as though in surprise. "Then do you believe

that a double murder was committed?"

"I draw my conclusion from the fact that the young man, on being struck

in the heart, could not have gone such a distance as that which

separates the one mark from the other."

"But he might have been slightly wounded--on the hand, or in the

face--at first, and then at the spot where he was found struck

fatally," I suggested.

She shook her head dubiously, but made no reply to my argument. Her

confidence in her own surmises made it quite apparent that by some

unknown means she was aware of the second victim. Indeed, a few moments

later she said to me:

"It is for this reason, Mr. Gregg, that I have sought you in confidence.

Nobody must know that I have come here to you, or they would suspect;

and if suspicion fell upon me it would bring upon me a fate worse than

death. Remember, therefore, that my future is entirely in your hands."

"I don't quite understand," I said, rising and standing before her in

the fading twilight, while the rain drove upon the old diamond window

panes. "But I can only assure you that whatever confidence you repose in

me, I shall never abuse, Miss Leithcourt."

"I know, I know!" she said quickly. "I trust you in this matter

implicitly. I have come to you for many reasons, chief of them being

that if a second victim has fallen beneath the hand of the assassin, it

is, I know, a woman."

"A woman! Whom?"

"At present I cannot tell you. I must first establish the true facts. If

this woman were really stricken down, then her body lies concealed

somewhere in the vicinity. We must find it and bring home the crime to

the guilty one."

"But if we succeed in finding it, could we place our hand upon the

assassin?" I asked, looking straight at her.

"If we find it, the crime would then tell its own tale--it would convict

the person in whose hand I have seen that fatal weapon," was her clear,

bold answer.

"Then you wish me to assist you in this search, Miss Leithcourt?" I

said, wondering if her suspicions rested upon that mysterious yachtsman,

Philip Hornby, the man to whom she was engaged.

"Yes, I would beg of you to do your utmost in secret to endeavor to

discover the body of the second victim. It is a woman--of that I am

certain. Find her, and we shall then be able to bring the crime home to

the assassin."

"But my search may bring suspicion upon me," I remarked. "It will be

difficult to examine the whole wood without arousing the curiosity of

somebody--the keeper or the police."

"I have already thought of that," she said. "I will pretend to-morrow to

lose this watch-bracelet in the wood," and she held up her slim wrist to

show me the little enameled watch set in her bracelet. "Then you and I

will search for it diligently, and the police will never suspect the

real reason of our investigation. To-morrow I shall write to you telling

you about my loss, and you will come over to Rannoch and offer to help

me."

I was silent for a moment.

"Is Mr. Woodroffe back at the castle? I heard he was to return to-day."

"No. I had a letter from him from Bordeaux a week ago. He is still on

the Continent. I believe, indeed, he has gone to Russia, where he

sometimes has business."

"I asked you the question, Miss Muriel, because I thought if Mr.

Woodroffe were here, he might object to our searching in company," I

explained, smiling.

Her cheeks flushed slightly, as though confused at my reference to her

engagement, and she said mischievously:

"I don't see why he should object in the least. If you are good enough

to assist me to search for my bracelet, he surely ought to be much

obliged to you."

It was on the tip of my tongue to explain to that dark-eyed, handsome

girl the circumstances in which I had met her lover on the sunny

Mediterranean shore, yet prudence forbade me to refer to the matter, and

I at once gladly accepted her invitation to investigate the curious

disappearance of the body of poor Olinto's fellow-victim.

What secret knowledge could be possessed by that smart, handsome girl

before me? That her suspicions were in the right direction I felt

confident, yet if the dead woman had been removed and hidden by the

assassin it must have been after the discovery made by me. The fellow

must have actually dared to return to the spot and carry off the victim.

Yet if he had actually done that, why did he allow the corpse of the

Italian to remain and await discovery? He might perhaps have been

disturbed and compelled to make good his escape.

"If the woman was really removed the assassin must surely have had some

assistance," I pointed out. "He could not have carried the body very far

unaided."

She agreed with me, but expressed a belief that the double crime had

been committed alone and unaided.

"Have you any idea as to the motive?" I asked her, eager to hear her

reply.

"Well," she answered hesitatingly, "if the woman has fallen a victim,

the motive will become plain; but if not, then the matter must remain a

complete mystery."

"You tell me, Miss Muriel, that you suspect the truth, and yet you deny

all knowledge of the murdered man!" I exclaimed in a tone of slight

reproach.

"Until we have cleared up the mystery of the woman I can say nothing,"

was her answer. "I can only tell you, Mr. Gregg, that if what I suspect

is true, then the affair will be found to be one of the strangest, most

startling and most ingenious plots ever devised by one man against the

life of another."

"Then a man is the assassin, you think?" I exclaimed quickly.

"I believe so. But even of that I am not at all sure. We must first find

the woman."

She seemed so positive that a woman had also fallen beneath that deadly

_misericordia_ that I fell to wondering whether she, like myself, had

discovered the body, and was therefore certain that a second crime had

been committed. But I did not seek to question her further, lest her own

suspicions might become aroused. My own policy was to remain silent and

to wait. The woman sitting before me was herself a mystery.

Then, when the rain had abated, I told Davis to send her trap a little

way up the high-road, so that my aunt and uncle should not see her

departing; and after helping her on with her loose driving-coat, we left

by one of the servants' entrances, and I saw her into her high dog-cart

and stood bareheaded in the muddy high-road as she drove away into the

gloom.

* * * * *

Rannoch Wood was already in its gold-brown glory of autumn, and as I

stood with Muriel Leithcourt on the edge of it, near the spot where

Olinto Santini had fallen, the morning sun was shining in a cloudless

sky.

True to her promise, she had sent me a note by one of the grooms asking

me to help search for her bracelet, and I had driven over at once to

Rannoch and found her alone awaiting me. The shooting party had gone

over to a distant part of the estate, therefore we were able to stroll

together up the hill and commence our investigations without let or

hindrance. She was sensibly dressed in a short tweed skirt, high

shooting-boots and a tam-o'-shanter hat, while I also had on an old

shooting-suit and carried a thick serviceable stick with which I could

prod likely spots.

On arrival at the wood I asked her opinion which was the most likely

corner, but she replied:

"I know so little of this place, Mr. Gregg. You have known it for years,

while this is only my first season here."

"Very well," I answered. "Let us place ourselves in the position of the

murderer, who probably knew the wood and wished to conceal a body in the

vicinity without risk of conveying it far. On this, the left side, the

wood has been thinned out for nearly half a mile, and therefore affords

but little cover, while here, to the right, it slopes down gently to the

valley and is very thick and partly impenetrable. There can therefore

have been no two courses open to him. He would look for a likely place

to the right. Let us start here, and first take a small circle,

examining every bush carefully. The body may have easily been pushed in

beneath a thicket and well escape observation."

And so together, after taking our bearings, we started off, working our

way into the thick undergrowth, beating with our sticks, and making

minute examination of every bush or heap of dead leaves. In parts, the

great spreading trees shut out the light, rendering our investigations

very difficult; but we kept on, my companion advancing with an eagerness

which showed that the fact of the woman's body being there was no mere

surmise.

All through the morning we walked on, our hands badly torn by brambles.

Even Muriel's thick gloves did not wholly protect her, and once when she

received a nasty scratch across the cheek, she stopped and laughingly

exclaimed:

"Now what untruth must I invent to account for that?"

My own coat was badly torn, and more than once I was compelled to

scramble through almost impassable thickets; yet we found no trace of

any previous intruder, and having completed our circle were compelled to

admit that the gruesome evidence of the second crime did not exist at

that spot.

More than once I felt half inclined to tell her how I had actually

discovered the body of the woman, yet on reflection I foresaw that in

such circumstances silence was best. If I desired to solve the strange

complicated enigma which had thus culminated in a double crime, it would

be necessary for me to keep my own counsel and remain patient and

watchful.

When Hutcheson replied from Leghorn, and when I discovered where Olinto

was employed, I might perhaps follow up the clues from that end. I might

find his wife Armida and learn something of importance from her. So I

was hopeful, and by reason of that hope remained silent.

Muriel was untiring in her activity. Hither and thither she went,

beating down the high bracken and tangles of weeds, poking with her

stick into every hole and corner, and going further and further into the

wood in the certainty that the body was therein concealed.

For my own part, however, I was not too sanguine of success. The portion

of the wood which we had already exhausted seemed to be the most likely

point. To carry the body far would require assistance, and in my own

mind I believed the crime to have been the work of one person. There was

no path in the wood in that direction, but soon we came to a deep

wooded ravine of the existence of which I was in ignorance. It was a

kind of small glen through which a rivulet flowed, but the banks were

covered with a thick impenetrable undergrowth out of which sprang many

fine old trees, a place that had apparently existed for centuries

undisturbed, for here and there a giant trunk that had decayed and

fallen lay across the bank, or had rolled into the rocky bed far below.

"This is a most likely place," declared my dainty little companion as we

approached it. "Anything could easily be concealed in that high bracken

down there. Let us search the whole glen from end to end," she cried

with enthusiasm.

Acting upon her suggestion and without thought of luncheon, we made a

descent of the steep bank until we reached the rocky bed of the stream,

and then by springing from stone to stone--sometimes slipping into the

water, be it said--we commenced to beat the bracken and carefully

examine every bush. Progress was not swift. Once the girl, lithe and

athletic as she was, slipped off a mossy stone into a hole where the

water was up to her knees. But she only laughed gayly at the accident,

and wringing out her wet skirt, said:

"It doesn't matter in the least, if we only find what we're in search

of."

And then, undaunted, she went on, springing from stone to stone and

steadying herself with her stick. If we could only discover the body of

the dead woman, then the rest would be clear, she declared. She would

openly denounce the assassin.

As we went on I revolved within my mind all the curious circumstances in

connection with the amazing affair, and recollected my old friend Jack

Durnford's words when we stood upon the quarter-deck of the _Bulwark_

and I had related to him the visit of the mysterious yacht. I too had

left one effort untried, and I blamed myself for overlooking it. I had

not sought of that Bond Street photographer the name and address of the

original of the photograph that had been mutilated and destroyed--that

girl with the magnificent eyes that had so attracted me.

The afternoon passed, and yet we were not successful. I was faint with

hunger and thirst, yet my companion did not once complain. Her energy

was marvelous--and yet was she not hunting down a criminal? was she not

determined to obtain such evidence as would enable her to speak the

truth fearlessly, and with confidence that it would have the effect of

convicting the guilty one?

Slowly we toiled on up the picturesque little glen for nearly a mile and

a half. Its beauties were extraordinary, and the silence was unbroken

save for the musical ripple of the water over the stones. Hidden there

in the center of that great wood, no one had visited it perhaps for

years, not even the keepers, for no path led there, and by reason of the

tangle of briars and bush it was utterly ungetatable. Indeed, it had

ruined our clothes to search there, and as we went on with so many

windings and turns we became utterly out of our bearings. We knew

ourselves to be in the center of the wood, but that was all.

The sun had set, and the sky above showed the crimson of the distant

afterglow, warning us that it was time we began to think of how to make

our exit. We were passing around a sharp bend in the glen where the

boulders were so thickly moss-grown that our feet fell noiselessly, when

I thought I heard a voice, and raising my hand we both halted suddenly.

"Someone is there," I whispered quickly. "Behind that rock." She nodded

in the affirmative, for she, too, had heard the voice.

We listened, but the sound was not repeated. That someone was on the

other side of the rock I knew, for in a tree in the vicinity a thrush

was hopping from twig to twig, sounding its alarm-cry and objecting to

being disturbed.

Therefore we crept silently forward together to ascertain who were the

intruders. The only manner, however, in which to get a view beyond the

huge rock that, having fallen across the stream centuries ago, had

diverted its channel, was to clamber up its mossy sides to the summit.

This we did eagerly and breathlessly, without betraying our presence by

the utterance of a single word.

To reach the side of the boulder we were compelled to walk through the

shallow water, but Muriel, quite undaunted, sprang lithely along at my

side, and with one accord we swarmed up the steep rock, gripping its

slippery face with our hands and laying ourselves flat as we came to its

summit.

Then together we peered over, just, however, in time to see two dark

figures of men disappearing into the thicket on the opposite side of the

glen.

"Who are they, I wonder?" I asked. "Do you recognize them?"

"No. They are entire strangers to me," was her answer. "But they seem

fairly well dressed. Perhaps two sportsmen from some shooting-party in

the neighborhood. They've lost their way most probably."

"But I don't think they carried guns," I said. "One of them had

something over his shoulder?"

"Wasn't it a gun? I thought it was."

"No, he wasn't carrying it like he'd carry a gun. It was short--and

seemed more like a spade."

"A spade!" she gasped quickly in a low voice. "A spade! Are you certain

of that?"

"No, not at all certain. We only had an instantaneous glance of them.

We were unfortunately too late to see them face to face."

"The back of one of the men, the tall fellow in the brown suit, was

broad and square--the back of someone who is familiar to me, only for

the moment I can't recollect whose it resembles." She only spoke in a

whisper, fearing lest we should be discovered.

I longed to scramble down and rush after the intruders, only the belief

that one of them carried a spade and the other an iron bar struck me as

curious, while at the same moment my eye caught sight of a portion of

the ground below us at the base of the rock which had evidently been

recently disturbed.

"It is a spade the man is carrying!" I cried excitedly. "Look down

there! They've just been burying something!"

Her quick eyes followed the direction I indicated, and she answered:

"I really believe they have concealed something!"

Then when we had allowed the men to get beyond hearing, we both slipped

down to the other side of the boulder and there discovered many signs

that the earth had been hurriedly excavated and only just replaced.

Quicker than it takes to describe the exciting incident which followed,

we broke down the branch of a tree and with it commenced moving the

freshly disturbed earth, which was still soft and easily removed.

Muriel found a dead branch in the vicinity, and both of us set to work

with a will, eager to ascertain what was hidden there. That something

had certainly been concealed was, to us, quite evident, but what it

really was we could not surmise. The hole they had dug did not seem

large enough to admit a human body, yet leaves had been carefully strewn

over the place which, if approached from any other point than the

high-up one whence we had seen it, would arouse no suspicion that the

ground had ever been interfered with.

Digging with a piece of wood was hard and laborious work and it was a

long time before we removed sufficient earth to make a hole of any size.

But Muriel exerted all her energy, and both of us worked on in dogged

silence full of wonder and anticipation. With a spade we should have

soon been able to investigate, but the earth having apparently been

stamped down hard prior to the last covering being put upon it, our

progress was very slow and difficult.

At last, a quarter of an hour or so after we had commenced, Muriel,

standing in the hole and having dug her stake deeply into the ground,

suddenly cried:

"Look! Look, Mr. Gregg! Why--whatever is that?"

I bent forward as she indicated, and my eyes met an object so unexpected

that I was held dumb and motionless.

By what we had succeeded in discovering, the mystery was increased

rather than diminished.

I gave vent to an ejaculation of complete bewilderment, and looked

blankly into my companion's face.

The amazing enigma was surely complete!