As she spoke she caught Gifford"s eye; he was watching her keenly, more closely perhaps than manners or tact warranted. "And do you find the place much changed since your time, Mr. Gifford?" she inquired, as though to relieve the awkwardness.
"Not as much as I could have imagined," he answered, through what seemed a fit of preoccupation.
"Mr. Gifford has not had much opportunity yet of seeing how far it has altered, with this tragic affair to upset everything," Morriston put in.
"No, it has been a most unlucky time for him to revisit Wynford," Miss Morriston added in her cold tone. "I hope Mr. Gifford is not going to hurry away from the neighbourhood in consequence."
"Not if I can prevent it," Kelson replied, with a laugh.
"I hope," Morriston said hospitably, "that whether his stay be short or long Mr. Gifford will consider himself quite at home here. And I need not say, my dear Kelson, that invitation includes you."
Both men thanked him. "We have already done a little trespa.s.sing in your park," Kelson observed with a laugh.
"Please don"t call it trespa.s.sing again," Miss Morriston commanded. "Let me give you another cup of tea, Muriel."
"The old house looks most picturesque by moon-light," observed Lord Painswick. "I was quite fascinated by it the other night."
"There is a full moon now," Gifford said. "We will stroll round and admire when we leave."
"Don"t stroll over the edge of the haha as I very nearly did one night,"
Morriston said laughingly. "When it lies in the shadow of the house it is a regular trap."
"Moonlight has its dangers as well as its beauties," Painswick murmured sententiously.
"The friendly cloak of night is apt to trip one up," Gifford added.
As he spoke the words there came a startling little cry from Miss Tredworth accompanied by the crash and clatter of falling crockery.
Gifford"s remark had been made with his eyes fixed on his friend"s _fiancee_, to whom at that moment Miss Morriston was handing the refilled cup of tea. A hand of each girl was upon the saucer as the words were uttered; by whose fault it was let fall it was impossible to say. But the slight cry of dismay had come from Miss Tredworth.
"Oh, I am so sorry," she exclaimed, colouring with vexation. "How stupid and clumsy of me. Your lovely china."
"It was my fault," Edith Morriston protested, her clear-cut face showing no trace of annoyance. "I thought you had hold of the cup, and I let it go too soon. Ring the bell, will you, d.i.c.k."
"Please don"t distress yourself, Miss Tredworth," Mr. Morriston entreated her as he crossed to the bell. "I"m sure it was not your fault."
"Was that a quotation, Mr. Gifford?" Miss Morriston asked, clearly with the object of dismissing the unfortunate episode.
"My remark about the cloak of night?" he replied. "Perhaps. I seem to have heard something like it somewhere."
And as he spoke he glanced curiously at Miss Tredworth.
CHAPTER X
AN ALARMING DISCOVERY
Next evening the two friends at the _Golden Lion_ were engaged to dine with the Morristons. They had been out with the hounds all day, and, beyond the natural gossip of the country-side, had heard nothing fresh concerning the tragedy. Gervase Henshaw had gone up to town for his brother"s funeral, and Host Dipper had no fresh development to report. In answer to a question from Gifford, he said he expected Mr. Henshaw back on the morrow, or at latest the day after.
"It is altogether a most mysterious affair," he observed sagely, being free, now that his late guest"s perplexing disappearance was accounted for, even in that tragic fashion, to regard the business and to moralize over it without much personal feeling in the matter. "I fancy Mr. Gervase Henshaw means to work the police up to getting to the bottom of it. For I don"t fancy that he is by any means satisfied that his unfortunate brother took his own life. And I must say," he added in a p.r.o.nouncement evidently the fruit of careful deliberation, "I don"t know how it strikes you, gentlemen, but from what I saw of the deceased it is hard to imagine him as making away with himself."
"Yes," Gifford replied. "But before any other conclusion can be fairly arrived at the police will have to account for the locked door."
Evidently Mr. Dipper"s lucubrations had not, so far, reached a satisfactory explanation of that puzzle; he could only wag his head and respond generally, "Ah, yes. That will be a hard nut for them to crack, I"m thinking."
The dinner at Wynford Place was made as cheerful as, with the gloom of a tragedy over the house, could be possible.
"We had the police with a couple of detectives here all this morning,"
Morriston said, "and a great upset it has been. After having made the most minute scrutiny of the room in the tower they had every one of the servants in one by one and put them through a most searching examination.
But, I imagine, without result. No one in the house, and I have questioned most of them casually myself, seems to be able to throw the smallest light on the affair."
"Have the police arrived at any theory?" Gifford inquired.
"Apparently they have come to no definite conclusion," Morriston answered. "They seemed to have an idea, though--to account for the problem of the locked door--that thieves might have got into the house with the object of making a haul in the bedrooms while every one"s attention was engaged down below, have secreted themselves in the tower, been surprised by Henshaw, and, to save themselves, have taken the only effectual means of silencing him, poor fellow."
"Then how, with the door locked on the inside did they make their escape?" Miss Morriston asked.
"That can so far be only a matter of conjecture," her brother answered, with a shrug. "Of course they might have provided themselves with some sort of ladder, but there are no signs of it. And the height of the window in that top room is decidedly against the theory."
"We hear at the _Lion_" Kelson remarked, "that the brother, Gervase Henshaw, is returning to-morrow or next day."
Morriston did not receive the news with any appearance of satisfaction.
"I hope he won"t come fussing about here," he said, with a touch of protest. "Making every allowance for the sudden shock under which he was labouring I thought his att.i.tude the other day most objectionable, didn"t you?"
"I did most certainly," Gifford answered promptly.
"His manners struck me as deplorable," Kelson agreed.
"Yes," their host continued. "It never seemed to occur to the fellow that some little sympathy was due also to us. But he seemed rather to suggest that the tragedy was our fault. In ordinary circ.u.mstances I should have dealt pretty shortly with him. But it was not worth while."
"No," Kelson observed, "All the same, you need not allow a continuation of his behaviour."
"I don"t intend to," Morriston replied with decision. "I hope the man won"t want to come ferreting in the place; that may well be left to the police; but if he does I can"t very well refuse him leave. He must be free of the house, or at any rate of the tower."
"Or," put in Kelson, "he"ll have a grievance against you, and accuse you of trying to burk the mystery."
"Is he a very objectionable person?" Miss Morriston asked. "We pa.s.sed one another in the hall as he left the house and I received what seemed a rather unmannerly stare."
Her brother laughed. "My dear Edith, the type of man you would simply loathe. Abnormally, unpleasantly sharp and suspicious; with a cleverness which takes no account of tact or politeness, he questions you as though you were in the witness-box and he a criminal barrister trying to trap you. I don"t know whether he behaves more civilly to ladies, but from our experience of the man I should recommend you to keep out of his way."
"I shall," his sister replied.
"I should say no respecter of persons--or anything else," Kelson remarked with a laugh.
"Let us hope he won"t take it into his head to worry us," Miss Morriston said with quiet indifference.
"I am sorry to see," Morriston observed later on when the ladies had left them, "that the papers are beginning to take a sensational view of the affair."