Author: Fred M. White
Category: Mystery
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CHAPTER XX
FRANK LITTIMER
The lamps gleamed upon the dusty statuary and pictures and faded flowersin the hall, they glinted upon a long polished oak casket there reposingupon trestles. Ever and anon a servant would peep in and vanish again asif ashamed of something. The house was deadly quiet now, for Mrs. Hensonhad fallen asleep worn out with exhaustion, and Enid had instantlystopped the dreadful clamour of the bell. The silence that followed wasalmost as painful as the noise had been.
On the coffin were wreaths of flowers. Enid sat in the drawing-room withthe door open, where she could see everything, but was herself unseen.She was getting terribly anxious and nervous again; the hour was neareleven, and the hearse might arrive at any time. She would know no kindof peace until she could get that hideous mockery out of the house.
She sat listening thus, straining her ears to catch the slightest sound.Suddenly there came a loud clamour at the front door, an imperativeknocking that caused Enid's heart to come into her mouth. Who could itbe? What stranger had passed the dogs in that way?
She heard crabbed, sour, but courageous old Williams go to the door. Sheheard the clang of bolts and the rattle of chains, and then a weird cryfrom Williams. A voice responded that brought Enid, trembling and livid,into the hall. A young man with a dark, exceedingly handsome face andsomewhat effeminate mouth stood there, with eyes for nothing but theshining flower-decked casket on the trestles. He seemed beside himselfwith rage and grief; he might have been a falsely imprisoned convict faceto face with the real culprit.
"Why didn't you let me know?" he cried. "Why didn't you let me know?"
His voice rang in the roof. Enid flew to his side and placed her handupon his lips.
"Your mother is asleep, Frank," she said. "She has had no sleep for threenights. A long rest may be the means of preserving her sanity. Why didyou come here?"
The young man laughed silently. It was ghastly mirth to see, and itbrought the tears into Enid's eyes. She had forgotten the danger of theyoung man's presence.
"I heard that Chris was ill," he said. "They told me that she wasdying. And I could not keep away. And now I have come too late. Oh,Chris, Chris!"
He fell on his knees by the side of the coffin, his frame shaken bytearless sobs. Enid bit her lips to keep back the words that rose tothem. She would have given much to have spoken the truth. But at anyhazard she must remain silent. She waited till the paroxysm of grief hadpassed away, then she touched the intruder gently on the shoulder.
"There is great danger for you in this house," she said.
"What do I care for danger when Chris lies yonder?"
"But, dear Frank, there are others to consider besides yourself. There isyour mother, for instance. Oh, you ought not to have come here to-night.If your father knew!"
"My father? He would be the last person in the world to know. And whatcares he about anything, so long as he has his prints and his paintings?He has no feelings, no heart, no soul, I may say."
"Frank, you must go at once. Do you know that Reginald Henson is here? Hehas ears like a hare; it will be nothing less than a miracle unless hehears your voice. And then--"
The young man was touched at last. The look of grief died out of his eyesand a certain terror filled them.
"I think that I should have come in any case," he whispered. "I don'twant to bring any further trouble upon you, Enid, but I wanted to see thelast of her. I came here, and some of the dogs remembered me. If not, Imight have had no occasion to trouble you. And I won't stay, seeing thatHenson is here. Let me have something to remember her by; let me lookinto her room for a moment. If you only knew how I loved her! And youlook as if you had no grief at all."
Enid started guiltily. She had quite forgotten her _role_ for the time.Indeed, there was something unmistakably like relief on her face as sheheard the porter's bell ring from the lodge to the house. Williamsshuffled away, muttering that he would be more useful in the house thanout of it just now, but a glance from Enid subdued him. Presently therecame the sound of wheels on the gravel outside.
"They have come for the--the coffin," Enid murmured. "Frank, it would bebest for you to go. Go upstairs, if you like; you know the way. Only,don't stay here."
The young man went off dreamily. A heavy grief dulled and blinded hissenses; he walked along like one who wanders in his sleep. Christiana'sroom door was open and a lamp was there. There were dainty knick-knackson the dressing-table, a vase or two of faded flowers--everything thatdenotes the presence of refined and gracious womanhood.
Frank Littimer stood there looking round him for some little time. On atable by the bedside stood a photograph of a girl in a silver frame.Littimer pounced upon it hungrily. It was a good picture--the best ofChristiana's that he had ever seen. He slipped out into the corridor andgently closed the door behind him. Then he passed along with his wholegaze fixed on the portrait. The girl seemed to be smiling out of theframe at him. He had loved Christiana since she was a child; he felt thathe had never loved her so much as at this moment. Well, he had somethingto remember her by--he had not come here in vain.
It seemed impossible yet to realise that Christiana was dead, that hewould never look into her sunny, tender face again. No, he would wake uppresently and find it had all been a dream. And how different to the lasttime he was here. He had been smuggled into the house, and he hadoccupied the room with the oak door. He--
The room with the oak door opened and a big man with a white bandageround his throat stood there with tottering limbs and an ugly smile onhis loose mouth. Littimer started back.
"Reginald," he exclaimed, "I didn't expect to see you here, or--"
"Or you would never have dared to come?" Henson said, hoarsely. "I heardyour voice and I was bound to give you a welcome, even at considerablepersonal inconvenience. Help me back to bed again. And now, you insolentyoung dog, how dare you show your face here?"
"I came to see Chris," Littimer said, doggedly. "And I came too late.Even if I had known that I was going to meet you, I should have been hereall the same. Oh, I know what you are going to say; I know what youthink. And some day I shall break out and defy you to do your worst."
Henson smiled as one might do at the outbreak of an angry child. His eyesflashed and his tongue spoke words that Littimer fairly cowed before. Andyet he did not show it. He was like a boy who has found a stone for theman who stands over him with the whip. With quick intuition Henson sawthis, and in a measure his manner changed.
"You will say next that you are not afraid of me," he suggested.
"Well," Littimer replied, slowly; "I am not so much afraid of youas I was."
"Ah! so you imagine that you have discovered something?"
Littimer apparently struggled between a prudent desire for silence anda disposition to speak. The sneer on the face of his enemy fairlymaddened him.
"Yes," he said, with a note of elation in his voice, "I have made adiscovery, but I am not going to tell you how or where my discovery is.But I've found Van Sneck."
A shade of whiter pallor came over Henson's face. Then his eyes took on amurderous, purple-black gleam. All the same, his voice was quite steadyas he replied.
"I'm afraid that is not likely to benefit you much," he said. "Would youmind handing me that oblong black book from the dressing-table? I wantyou to do something for me. What's that?"
There was just the faintest suggestion of a sound outside. It was Enidlistening with all her ears. She had not been long in discovering whathad happened. Once the ghastly farcical incubus was off her shoulders shehad followed Littimer upstairs. As she passed Henson's room the drone ofvoices struck on her ears. She stood there and listened. She would havegiven much for this not to have happened, but everything happened for theworst in that accursed house.
But Henson's last words were enough for her. She gathered her skirtstogether and flew down the stairs. In the hall Williams stood, with agrin on his face, pensively scraping his chin with a dry forefinger.
; "Now what's the matter, miss?" he cried.
"Don't ask questions," Enid cried. "Go and get me the champagne nippers.The champagne nippers at once. If you can't find them, then bring me apair of pliers. Then come to me on the leads outside the bathroom. It's amatter of life and death."