Author: Fred M. White
Category: Mystery
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CHAPTER XIX
ROLLO SHOWS HIS TEETH
The blinds were all down at Longdean Grange, a new desolation seemed tobe added to the gloom of the place. Out in the village it had by somemeans become known that there was somebody dead in the house, eithermadam herself or one of those beautiful young ladies whom nobody had everseen. Children loitering about the great lodge-gates regarded Williamswith respectful awe and Dr. Walker with curiosity. The doctor was thelink connecting the Grange with the outside world.
To add to the gloom of it all the bell over the stables clangedmournfully. The noise made Walker quite nervous as he walked up the driveby Williams's side. Not for a pension would he have dared approach thehouse alone. Williams, in the seediest and most dilapidated rusty black,had a face of deepest melancholy.
"But why that confound--Why do they ring that bell?" Walker asked,irritably.
"Madam ordered it, sir," Williams replied. "She's queerer than ever, ismistress. She don't say much, but Miss Christiana's death is a greatshock to her. She ordered the bell to be tolled, and she carried on awfulwhen Miss Enid tried to stop it."
Walker murmured vaguely something doubtless representing sympathy.
"And my other patient, Williams?" he asked. "How is he getting along?Really, you ought to keep those dogs under better control. It's adreadful business altogether. Fancy a man of Mr. Henson's high characterand gentle disposition being attacked by a savage dog in the very house!I hope the hound is securely kennelled."
"Well, he isn't, sir," Williams said, with just the glint of a grin onhis dry features. "And it wasn't altogether Rollo's fault. That dog wasso devoted to Miss Christiana as you never see. And he got to know asthe poor young lady was dying. So he creeps into the house and liesbefore her bedroom door, and when Mr. Henson comes along the dog takesit in his 'ead as he wants to go in there. And now Rollo's got inside,and nobody except Miss Enid dare go near. I pity that there undertakerwhen he comes."
Walker shuddered slightly. Longdean Grange was a fearful place for thenerves. Nothing of the routine or the decorous ever happened there. Thefees were high and the remuneration prompt, or Walker would have handedover his patient cheerfully to somebody else. Not for a moment did heimagine that Williams was laughing at him. Well, he need not see thebody, which was a comfort. With a perfectly easy conscience he could givea certificate of death. And if only somebody would stop that hideousbell! Someone was singing quietly in the drawing-room, and the musicseemed to be strangely bizarre and out of place.
Inside it seemed like a veritable house of the dead--the shadow oftragedy loomed everywhere. The dust rose in clouds from the floor as theservants passed to and fro. They were all clad in black, and shuffleduneasily, as if conscious that their clothes did not belong to them. Enidcame out into the hall to meet the doctor. Her face seemed terribly whiteand drawn; there was something in her eyes that suggested anxiety morethan grief.
"I suppose you have come principally to see Mr. Henson?" she said. "Butmy sister--"
"No occasion to intrude upon your grief for a moment, Miss Henson,"Walker said, quietly. "As I have told you before, there was very littlehope for your sister from the first. It was a melancholy satisfaction tome to find my diagnosis confirmed in every detail by so eminent anauthority as Dr. Hatherly Bell. I will give you a certificate withpleasure--at once."
"You would like to see my sister?" Enid suggested.
The quivering anxiety was in her eyes again, the strained look on herface. Walker was discreetly silent as to what he had heard about thatbloodhound, but he had by no means forgotten it.
"Not the least occasion, I assure you," he said, fervently. "Your sisterhad practically passed away when I last saw her. There are timeswhen--er--you see--but really there is no necessity."
"Mr. Henson is terribly fastidious about these things."
"Then he shall be satisfied. I shall tell him that I have--er--seen thebody. And I have, you know. In these matters a medical man cannot be toocareful. If you will provide me with pen and ink--"
"Thank you very much. Will you come this way, please?"
Walker followed into the drawing-room. Mrs. Henson, wearing somethingfaded and dishevelled in the way of a mourning dress, was crooning somedirge at the piano. Her white hair was streaming loosely over hershoulders, there was a vacant stare in her eyes. The intruders might havebeen statues for all the heed she took of them. Presently the discordantmusic ceased, and she began to pace noiselessly up and down the room.
"Another one gone," she murmured; "the best-beloved. It is always thebest-beloved that dies, and the one we hate that is left. Take all thosecoaches away, send the guests back home. Why do they come chattering andfeasting here? She shall be drawn by four black horses to Churchfield inthe dead of the night, and there laid in the family vault."
"Mrs. Henson's residence," Enid explained, in a whisper. "It is somefifteen miles away. She has made up her mind that my sister shall betaken away as she says--to-morrow night. Is this paper all that isnecessary for the--you understand? I have telephoned to the undertaker inBrighton."
Walker hastened to assure the girl that what little further formality wasrequired he would see to himself. All he desired now was to visit Hensonand get out of the house as soon as possible. As he hurried from thedrawing-room he heard Mrs. Henson crooning and muttering, he saw thevacant glare in her eyes, and vaguely wondered how soon he should haveanother patient here.
Reginald Henson sat propped up in his bed, white and exhausted. Beyonddoubt he had had a terrible shock and fright, and the droop of hiseyelids told of shattered nerves. There was a thick white bandage roundhis throat, his left shoulder was strapped tightly. He spoke withdifficulty.
"Do we feel any better this morning?" Walker asked, cheerfully.
"No, we don't," said Henson, with a total absence of his usualgraciousness of manner. "We feel confoundedly weak, and sick, and dizzy.Every time I drop off to sleep I wake with a start and a feeling thatthat infernal dog is smothering me. Has the brute been shot yet?"
"I don't fancy so; in fact, he is still at his post upstairs, andtherefore--"
"Therefore you have not seen the body of my poor dear cousin?"
"Otherwise I could have given no certificate," Walker said, with dignity."If I have satisfied myself, sir, and the requirements of the law, why,then, everybody is satisfied. I _have_ seen the body."
Technically the little doctor spoke the truth. Henson mutteredsomething that sounded like an apology. Walker smiled graciously andsuggested that rest and a plain diet were all that his patient needed.Rest was the great thing. The bandages need not be removed for a day ortwo, at the expiration of which time he would look in again. Once theroad was reached in safety Walker took off his hat and wiped the beadsfrom his forehead.
"What a house," he muttered. "What a life to lead. Thank goodness I neednot go there again before Saturday. If anybody were to offer me a smallglass of brandy with a little soda now, I should feel tempted to breakthrough my rule and drink it."
Meanwhile the long terror of the day dragged on inside the house. Theservants crept about the place on tiptoe, the hideous bell clanged out,Mrs. Henson paced wearily up and down the drawing-room, singing andmuttering to herself, until Enid was fain to fly or break down and yellhysterically. It was one of Margaret Henson's worst days.
The death of Christiana seemed to affect her terribly. Enid watched herin terror. More than once she was fearful that the frail thread wouldsnap--the last faint glimmer of reason go out for ever. And yet it wouldbe madness to tell Margaret Henson the truth. In the first place shewould not have understood, and on the other hand she might havecomprehended enough to betray to Reginald Henson. As it was, her griefwas obvious and sincere enough. The whole thing was refinedly cruel, butreally there was no help for it. And things had gone on splendidly.
Henson was powerless to interfere, and the doctor was satisfied. Once shehad put her hand to the plough Enid's quick brain saw her through. Butshe would have b
een hard put to it to deceive Henson under his very nosewithout the help of the bloodhound. Now she could see her way stillfarther. She waited nervously for a ring from the lodge-gates to thehouse, and about four o'clock it came. The undertaker was at the gateswaiting for an escort to the Grange.
Enid passed her tongue out over a pair of dry lips. The critical momentwas at hand. If she could get through the next hour she was safe. Ifnot--but there must be no "if not," she told herself. The undertakercame, suave, quiet, respectful, but he dropped back from the bedroom dooras he saw two gleaming, amber eyes regarding him menacingly.
"The dog loved my sister," Enid explained, quietly. "But he has foundhis way to her room, and he refuses to move. He fancies that we havedone something her.... Oh, no, I couldn't poison him! And it would be adreadful thing if there were to be anything like a struggle _here_.Come, Rollo."
Evidently the dog had learned his lesson well. He wagged his great tail,but refused to move. The undertaker took a couple of steps forward andRollo's crest rose. There was a flash of white teeth and a growl. At theend of half an hour no progress had been made.
"There's only one thing for it," suggested Williams, in his rusty voice."We can get the dog away for ten minutes at midnight. He likes a runthen, and I'll bring the other dogs to fetch him, like."
"My time is very valuable just now," the undertaker suggested, humbly.
"Then you had better measure me," said Enid, turning a face absolutelyflaming red and deadly white to the speaker. "It is a dreadful, ghastlybusiness altogether, but I cannot possibly think of any other way. Theidea of anything like a struggle here is abhorrent.... And the dog'sfidelity is so touching. My sister and I were exactly alike, except thatshe was fairer than me."
The undertaker was understood to demur slightly on professional grounds.It was very irregular and not in the least likely to give satisfaction.
"What does it matter?" Enid cried, passionately. She was acting none theless magnificently because her nerves were quivering like harpstrings."When I am dead you can fling me in a ditch, for all I care. We are astrange family and do strange things. The question of satisfaction neednot bother you. Take my measure and send the coffin home to-morrow, andwe will manage to do the rest. Then to-morrow night you will have afour-horse hearse here at eleven o'clock, and drive the coffin toChurchfield Church, where you will be expected. After that your work willbe finished."
The bewildered young man responded that things should be exactly as theyoung lady required. He had seen many strange and wild things in histime, but none so strange and weird as this. It was all utterlyirregular, of course, but people after all had a right to demand whatthey paid for. Enid watched the demure young man in black down thecorridor, and then everything seemed to be enveloped in a dense purplemist, the world was spinning under her feet, there was a great noise likethe rush of mighty waters in her brain. With a great effort she threw offthe weakness and came to herself, trembling from head to foot.
"Courage," she murmured, "courage. This life has told on me more than Ithought. With Chris's example before me I must not break down now."