The Mystery of the Ravenspurs

Flesh and blood could stand it no longer; in the mouth of the cave Geoffrey stood and called Vera softly by name.

The girl started and half turned.

"Don't be alarmed," Geoffrey whispered. "I am in the cave. It is safe here. Watch your opportunity and come in, for I must have a few words with you. Only do it naturally and don't let anybody suspect."

Vera had turned her back to the cave, and appeared to be sadly gazing over the sea. Gradually she slipped back, watching the others, who apparently had forgotten her, until she was lost in the gloom of the cavern.

A moment later and Geoffrey had her in his arms. It was good to feel her heart beating against his, to feel her kisses warm on his lips.

"Did Tchigorsky tell you?" he asked.

"No, Uncle Ralph. Oh, I am so glad to see you again, Geoffrey. I knew you were not lost, that you would be safe after what uncle said, and yet all the time there was a strange void in my heart."

"But my darling, I am safe."

Vera laid her head restfully on his shoulder.

"I know, I know!" she said. "But I have had a foretaste of what might have been. When Wass and Watkins came and told me that your overturned boat had been found, I began to realize what it might be to live without you. Dear Geoff, will it be long before all this anxiety is disposed of?"

Geoffrey kissed her trembling lips.

"Not long, so Tchigorsky says, and I have implicit faith in him. The present situation is all part of the plot of our salvation. And the others?"

"Are heartbroken. My poor grandfather looks ten years older. You know how entirely he has been wrapped up in us. I feel sure that if he could have saved us by sacrificing the rest, himself included, he would have done so."

"I know," Geoffrey said hoarsely. "I know, dear. And Marion?"

"Marion is sorely disturbed. I hardly know what to make of Marion. For the first time she positively appears to be frightened. And Marion is not the girl who cries. I was alarmed about her a little time ago," replied Vera.

"Ah, well, it won't be very long," Geoffrey said consolingly. "To-morrow morning Tchigorsky has promised that I shall be safe and sound in the bosom of the family again. What are they going to do now?"

"They are going to search until they find you. All the boats from the village are out, even the servants are assisting. You can understand how I should feel if I did not know everything. I could not stay in the house; I could do no more than wander along the shore feeling that I was helping. It would be impossible to remain in the house and that is what they all feel. There is a full moon to-night, and they will be here till they are exhausted."

Geoffrey nodded. He was wondering how he was going to account for his absence and for the manner in which he was finally to turn up safe and sound again. He would have to concoct some story of being picked up by a passing boat and landed some way down the coast.

"They guess I am a victim to the vendetta?" he asked.

"Of course. They say the mast and oars were partly sawn away. It will be the talk of the country in a few hours. Geoffrey, I must go. Don't you see that they have missed me?"

Vera had been missed. Already Marion was calling her. There was just the chance that she might be yet another victim. Vera slipped out of the cave, walking backwards as if she were looking for something.

"You won't betray yourself?" said Geoffrey.

"I'll try not to, dear. I understand how necessary it is that the truth should be concealed. And yet it is hard not to be able to ease their minds."

Vera was clear of the cave by this time, and her voice ceased. A few yards farther on and Marion came up to her. She was looking pale and ghastly; there were rings under her eyes; her nerves had had a terrible shock.

"I couldn't imagine where you had got to," she said. "I looked round, and you had disappeared. I feared you had been spirited away."

"By the cruel foe, Marion? One by one we go. It may be your turn next."

"Would to Heaven that it was!" Marion whispered vehemently. "A little time ago I fancied that I was strong enough to bear up against anything. Now I know what a feeble creature I am. Before this happened I would a thousand times have been the victim myself. And I – I – "

She paused and beat the air impotently. Vera wondered. Could this really be the strong, self-reliant Marion who had uplifted them in so many troubles, this the girl who always had a smile on her face and words of comfort on her lips? This was a weak, frightened creature, with eyes that were haunted.

"Be brave," said Vera, "and be yourself. What should we do without you? Why, you are so full of remorse you might have been responsible for Geoffrey's death yourself."

Marion looked up swiftly and then her eyes fell.

"It is because I love him," she said.

"And I love him, too. But I try to be brave."

Marion was silent under the reproof. Vera was calm and collected. What a reaction there would be later, Marion thought.

"You have not given up all hope?" she asked.

"No, I cannot. It would be too cruel. I cannot imagine that anything really serious has happened to Geoffrey. I cannot feel anything for the present, save for you. And my heart is full for you, Marion."

"Ay," Marion said drearily. "It need be."

Vera turned and walked swiftly across the sands. She wanted to be alone now that no danger threatened.

Then presently the moon rose and shone upon the people gathered on the fringe of the sea. To the impatient Geoffrey came Ralph Ravenspur with a cloak and slouched hat over his arm.

CHAPTER XLIV

STILL NEARER

He entered as coolly and easily as if he had been doing this kind of thing all his life, as if he had the full use of his eyesight.

"I can't see you, but, of course, you are there," he said. "Tchigorsky sent me because he cannot come himself. The jade he calls his mistress has need of him. Muffle yourself and follow me. Not too closely."

Geoffrey was only too glad of the opportunity. He passed under the shadow of the rocks until he gained the path to the head of the cliffs and here Ralph paused.

"We are safe now," he said. "You can remove your disguise and cross the terrace. There is not a living soul in the castle at present."

"All the servants are on the beach, then?"

"Every one of them, both male and female, which is a flattering testimony to your popularity, Geoffrey. I opine that they will be pleased to see you in the morning. By the way, have you concocted a plausible story to account for your escape?"

"I haven't," Geoffrey admitted with a smile. "I preferred to leave it to the greater talents of Tchigorsky and yourself. I have no genius for fiction."

Ralph muttered that the matter might be safely left in their hands, and then they entered the deserted castle and made their way to Ralph's room. Here the two doors were closed and Ralph sat down silently over his pipe.

"Is anything going to happen?" Geoffrey asked.

"A great deal during the next hour or two," Ralph replied. "But it is impossible to forecast, and you will see it all for yourself in good time. I can't do anything until I have heard further from our friend Tchigorsky."

Half an hour passed in dead silence, and then there was a rapping on the window. When the casement was thrown open, the head of Tchigorsky appeared. He was clad in Oriental robes and had made his way upwards by climbing the thick ivy that grew on that side of the house. He nodded to Geoffrey.

"I told you we should meet again," he said. "I have just ten minutes to spare. A cigarette, please."

Geoffrey handed over the cigarette. "Have you discovered it all?" Ralph asked.

"I have discovered nothing," Tchigorsky said calmly from behind the cloud of smoke. "At present I have not the remotest idea which way she will strike."

"Ah, she is in one of her suspicious moods."

"When she trusts nobody. Quite right. All I can tell you is that she is coming here presently. She is well aware that there is not a soul in the house. She knows that this state of things is likely to last for some time. She will come by and by, and with her she will bring some great danger to the house of Ravenspur. What form that danger is to take I cannot say. But I shall find out."

The last words came from Tchigorsky's lips with a snap.

"But she will want confederates," said Geoffrey.

"She may or she may not. She is a woman of infinite resource. Nobody knows what mischief she is capable of. If she brings me along, I may be exceedingly useful; if she leaves me behind I shall be more usefully employed in going over her papers and documents. You see, I know the language. But, be that as it may, this is going to be an eventful night."

Tchigorsky finished his cigarette and rose to go. He had few instructions to leave behind him, and these few were of an exceedingly simple nature. All that Geoffrey and Ralph Ravenspur had to do was to watch. They were to keep their eyes open and be largely guided by events. And there were to be no lights.

Half an hour passed before Ralph rose and softly opened the door. For a little time he threw the casement open wide. As Geoffrey drew a match from his box Ralph laid a restraining hand on his arm.

"No more smoking," he said. "I purposely opened the casement to sweeten the air of the room. My dear boy, you do not want to betray us with the smell of fresh tobacco. The enemy would take alarm at once."

"I had forgotten," Geoffrey murmured. "How stupid of me!"

Again silence and painful tension on the nerves. Presently below came the soft fall of a foot, and then a noise as if a human body had come in contact with some object in the dark. There was the scratch of a match, and a ball of flame flickered in ghastly fashion in the hall.

"The foe is here," Ralph whispered. "Go and look over. Your rubber-soled boots are in the corner. Put them on."

Geoffrey did as he desired. He crept along the corridor until he could look down into the hall. There he saw a woman – a woman who wore short skirts and a closely fitting jacket. She had a small lantern in her hand, the light of which she seemed to lower or heighten by pressing a stud.

Behind her came the two Orientals, who carried a small but heavy brass-bound box between them. This, at a sign from the woman, they deposited on the floor.

As far as Geoffrey could judge neither of these men was Tchigorsky. He could catch the sound of whispered conversation, but the words conveyed no meaning to his ears. The two discoursed in a language he did not understand.

A hand was laid on Geoffrey's arm. He turned to see Ralph by his side. The latter bent over the balustrade listening with all his ears. Down below the brass box was being opened and the contents were placed upon the floor.

The contents looked like machinery, but it was machinery of a kind that Geoffrey had never seen before. There was a small disk of hammered copper, and to this was attached a number of what seemed to be india-rubber snakes. At a sign from the woman the two Asiatics picked up the box and its contents and started away toward the kitchen.

Noiseless as they were, Ralph heard them. He clutched his companion's arm.

"They have gone," he whispered. "In which direction?"

"They had moved off towards the kitchen," said Geoffrey.

"Good! This thing is turning out exactly as I expected. They had something with them?"

"Yes, a thing like a copper octopus with india-rubber tentacles. They have taken it with them. A most extraordinary affair."

"It will be more extraordinary still before it is finished," Ralph said grimly. "Follow them and report what you see. Take good care not to be seen. Unless I am mistaken they are going down to the vaults and are planning a coup to do for us all to-night."

Geoffrey crept silently down the stairs. Then he made his way swiftly along the passages until he came to the cellars. Then the steady blowing of a current of fresh air told him that Ralph's suggestion was right. Down he went until he came to the channel leading to the vaults.

But he was cautious. He peeped down. Below him were three figures, and once more they had spread out their queer apparatus. By the side of it were two large glass-stoppered bottles, such as one sees in a laboratory, receptacles for acids and the like. They were tightly tied over the stoppers.

The woman picked up one of them and removed the parchment. Before she drew the stopper she donned thick glasses and a mask for her face, the two Orientals doing the same. They were evidently dealing with some very dangerous poison.

The stopper was removed and a few spots of the acid dropped on the copper disc. A white smoke arose, which, small as it was, filled the air with a pungent odor. Almost immediately the acid was wiped off and the odor ceased. Only just a whiff of it reached Geoffrey's nose, but it turned him faint – giddy for an instant.

What was going to happen next?

CHAPTER XLV

BAFFLED

Geoffrey had not long to wait. From where he was standing he could see down into the vault perfectly well. He would have been better satisfied had he understood what those people were talking about, but their words conveyed nothing to him.

On the floor of the vault the queer-looking machinery was spread out, and to the ends of the india-rubber tubes wires were attached. No sooner had this been accomplished than the woman, after giving some rapid instructions to her allies, left the vault. She was so quick that Geoffrey barely had time to conceal himself behind a pillar before she passed him.

The woman was masked and disguised beyond recognition, but Geoffrey had no need to be told who she was. He knew that he was in the presence of Mrs. May. And, despite his knowledge of her cleverness and resource, he found himself marveling to see her display so fine a knowledge of the house.

The woman passed along, dragging a number of fine light wires after her. The other ends of the wires were attached to the queer-looking apparatus in the vault.

Mrs. May went along the passages, along the corridor, and up the stairs as if she had been accustomed to the house all her life. Surely she must have been here many times before, or she would not have exhibited such fearless confidence. The idea of the black, gliding figure creeping about the house in the dead of night filled Geoffrey with loathing.

All the same, he did not neglect his opportunities. He followed swiftly and silently until he came to the main corridor on the first landing. Here, to his surprise, the woman turned into one of the bed-rooms, the room used by the head of the house. She closed the door behind her.

What to do next? But Geoffrey was not long in doubt. Ralph was standing by his side, a dark lantern in his hand.

"Where did she go?" he whispered.

"You heard her, then?" asked Geoffrey.

"Of course, I heard everything. I see with my ears. Naturally you guessed who she was. But what room did she go into?"

"My grandfather's."

"So I expected. But she means to visit all the rooms in turn. You need not be afraid, she will be there for some minutes. What do you see outside?"

Geoffrey made a close examination with the lantern.

"I see a tangle of small wires on the floor," he said. "They come up from the vaults."

"Where they are attached to a queer-looking instrument?"

"Yes, yes. I see you know all about it. One of the wires runs under the door into the room where Mrs. May is engaged."

"And where she will be engaged for some time," said Ralph. "Move that book ladder and look over the fanlight."

There were books on high shelves in the corridor, and a light librarian's ladder close at hand. Geoffrey propped this against the door and looked in through the open fanlight. All the bed-room doors had fanlights at Ravenspur.

The lantern inside was on the dressing-table and, standing on a chair by a fireplace, was Mrs. May. She had pinned the thin wire to the wall cunningly, and had turned the end of it into a plate that stood on the mantel shelf. From a flask she poured a little white powder into the plate.

This done she seemed to be satisfied. Geoffrey whipped the ladder away and the woman emerged from the room. Once more she went along the corridor with firm, resolute step, and the air of one who knows what she is doing and has a definite object in view.

From one bed-room to another she went, leaving a wire in each until every room occupied by one of the Ravenspur family had been visited. Geoffrey's room was the last. When she had finished here she took up a pair of scissors and tapped the wire. Outside the door Geoffrey and Ralph could hear the noise distinctly.

Ralph's jaws came together with a click.

"The key is outside your room door," he whispered. "Turn it."

Geoffrey wondered, but he hastened to comply. The key turned with an ease and silence that testified to the fact of its having been carefully oiled.

"What does it all mean?" Geoffrey whispered.

"She is going to test her machinery," said Ralph with a chuckle. "And she is going one step farther to her own destruction. Listen."

Again came the faint tap, and then down from far below the purring jar of electrical apparatus in motion. There was silence inside the room for a moment and then Geoffrey saw the handle turn. It was turned softly at first, then more quickly, and finally it was tugged as an angry child snatches at a toy.

Ralph chuckled. The diabolical mirth seemed to come deep from his throat.

"She is trying to get out," Geoffrey whispered.

"Of course she is," Ralph replied. "But not quite yet."

The lock was rattling loudly by this time; there was a half-angry, half-frightened muttering from within. And then there came a long, piercing, wailing scream, as of a woman in the last agony before death.

Geoffrey would have started back, but Ralph restrained him.

"No, no," he whispered violently. "It is all right; everything is turning out splendidly."

"But she is a woman and in deadly peril, uncle."

"I know it, lad. Five minutes more and that fiend will be beyond further mischief. She has been trying the effect of her infernal contrivance and will be hoist with her own petard. She is scared to death. She imagines she has fastened herself in and can't get out."

"But this is murder," Geoffrey cried.

"I dare say some people would call it so," Ralph replied coolly. "As a matter of fact, there never could be homicide more justifiable than to let that woman perish there. Still, we are not going to do anything of the kind. When those cries cease, and you hear yonder wretch fall to the ground, then open the door and drag her out."

The cries were coming wildly from behind the door; there was a hammering on the panels. The cries rang through the house, they reached the Asiatics in the vaults and the latter fled in terror into the night.

Something had happened, but what it was they did not care. They had only themselves to think of.

In spite of his strong nerves, Geoffrey shuddered. It was horrible to be alone in that grim house of tears, waiting in the darkness, opposed by grim horrors and, above all, to have that note of agony ringing in his ears.

Would it never stop? Would the time to act never come? Geoffrey would have interfered in spite of everything but for the fact that Ralph was gripping his shoulder in a grasp that at any other time would have been painful.

Suddenly the noise ceased. There was a moan and the soft, crushing fall of a body. Ralph's face blazed up instantly.

"Now," he cried, "there is no time to be lost."

Geoffrey darted forward. He had the door opened in an instant. Mrs. May lay still and white on the floor. The atmosphere of the room seemed to have vanished. It was intolerable to breathe there; air there was none.

As the door fell back the room filled as with a sudden strong draught. Geoffrey dragged the unconscious figure into the corridor.

"Will she die?" he gasped.

"No, she will not die," Ralph said coolly. "Had I intended her to die I should not have allowed you to open the door. Pick her up and throw her on one of the beds in a spare room. She will require no attention, but she will not attain consciousness for some hours. And, after that, she will be useless for a day or two. You need not worry; our scheme is working out splendidly. Pick her up."

Ralph indicated the still figure with brutal indifference. He would have shown more consideration to a sick dog. Geoffrey complied, and presently made the woman as comfortable as circumstances allowed.

Geoffrey had hardly done so before there was a light footfall in the corridor, and Tchigorsky appeared, still in disguise.

"I gather that things are well," he said. "Just now I met that she-devil's accomplices fleeing as if the Father of Lies was behind them. She was trapped, eh?"

Ralph nodded and chuckled.

"In Geoffrey's room," he explained. "When she was testing her apparatus I had the key turned on her. And she could not get out. I let her remain there as long as I considered it safe to do so, and her yells must have alarmed her confederates. Probably they have fled, leaving things intact."

"Probably," said Tchigorsky. "I will go and see."

He was back again presently, a pleased expression on his face.

"Nothing has been touched," he said. "I have removed the wires, in case of danger. We have the lady more or less under our thumb."

"What was she doing?" Geoffrey asked.

"It is an appliance for exhausting air," Tchigorsky explained. "You take a powder and place it on a hot plate. Directly it begins to burn it draws up all the air. The thing has been known in the East for thousands of years. Mrs. May applied electricity to give her greater scope. A plate of the powder was to be heated in the room of everybody in the castle when asleep.

"A few minutes and the thing is done. Then the wires are withdrawn and gradually the different rooms fill with air again. The burnt powder leaves no trace. Then you are all found dead in your beds and nobody knows how it is done. The wires are easily drawn back to the battery and the whole thing is destroyed."

Geoffrey shuddered.

"What a fiend!"

CHAPTER XLVI

NEARING THE END

It was some time before any one spoke. Geoffrey was turning the whole matter over in his mind. He was still puzzled.

"I don't understand it," he said. "Of course, I follow all you say, and I see the nature of the plot intended to end us all at one fell swoop. But why do you want to have that woman under the roof?"

"Because so long as she is under the roof she is comparatively harmless," Tchigorsky explained. "The princess is hot and vengeful and passionate, but she has her vein of caution and will take no unnecessary risks. She will be bewildered and will not know whether she had been suspected or not. The more cordial to her you are the more suspicious she will be. Of course, she will make up some plausible tale to account for her intrusion, and, of course, you must pretend to believe it. It will be impossible to move her for a day or two, and here I come in."

"In what way?" Geoffrey asked.

"In the way of having a free hand," Tchigorsky said, with a smile. "The princess will be cut off from her allies, and I shall be able to ransack her private papers for one thing."

Geoffrey nodded. He began to see the force of Tchigorsky's clever scheme. And then the cold solitude of the house struck him. For a moment he had forgotten all about the family still on the beach and the agony they were suffering on his account.

"I suppose you can do no more to-night?" he asked.

"I am not so sure of that," Tchigorsky said dryly. "Meanwhile I can safely rest for an hour or so. I am going to lie hidden in Ralph's bedroom for the present and smoke his tobacco. Do you want anything?"

"I should like to relieve the minds of my friends," said Geoffrey.

"That of course," Tchigorsky responded. "Go at once. You were picked up by a passing boat – or yacht – that landed you at Manby. You walked back and when you got home to change your clothes you found the place deserted. Don't say anything as to Mrs. May. Your Uncle Ralph will have that story to tell when you return. You are not to know anything about Mrs. May."

"All right," Geoffrey said cheerfully. "Now I'll be off."