The Mystery of the Ravenspurs

He made his way down the cliffs unseen. There were lanterns flitting about the shore; he could see the flash of Marion's white dress and Vera by her side. He came gently alongside them.

"Vera," he said. "What is all this about?"

Vera turned and gave a cry. She was acting her part as well as possible, and the cry seemed genuine. But the tears in her eyes were tears of thankfulness that the sufferings of those dear to her were ended. She clung to her lover; her lips pressed his.

Marion stood there white and still as a statue. The girl seemed to be frozen. Geoffrey's touch thawed her into life again.

"Geoffrey!" she screamed, "Geoffrey! Thank God, thank God! Never again will I – "

With another scream that rang high and clear, the girl fell unconscious at his feet. He raised her up tenderly as the others came rushing forward. There was a babel of confused cries, hoarse cheers, and yells of delight. The villagers were running wild along the sands. Scores of men pressed eagerly round to shake Geoffrey's hand.

"I was picked up by a yacht," he said. "Of course I know there was foul play. I know all about the broken mast and the sawn oars. You may rest assured I will take more care another time. And I was – "

Geoffrey was going to say that he had been warned, but he checked himself in time. His progress toward home was more or less a royal one. It touched him to see how glad people were. He had not imagined a popularity like this.

Vera clung fondly to his arm; Rupert Ravenspur walked proudly on the other side. Not once had the old man showed the slightest sign of breaking down, but he came perilously near to it at the present time. Marion held to him trembling. She felt it almost impossible to drag herself along.

"You are quaking from head to foot," said Ravenspur.

"I am," Marion admitted. "And at the risk of increasing your displeasure I should say you are very little better, dear grandfather. I fear the shock of seeing Geoffrey after all this fearful suspense has been too much for you."

Ravenspur admitted the fact. He was glad to find himself at home again, glad to be rid of the rocking, cheering crowd outside, and glad to see Geoffrey opposite him. Marion, pale as death, had dropped into a chair.

"I am going to give you all some wine," said Geoffrey. "You need it. Please do not let us discuss my adventure any more. Let us drop the subject."

Ralph glided in, feeling his way into the room. He congratulated Geoffrey as coolly as he would have done in the most trite circumstances. He was acting his part in his own wooden, stupid way.

"I also have had my adventures," he croaked.

"I hope the castle is all right," Ravenspur observed.

"The same idea occurred to me," Ralph went on. "One so afflicted as myself could not be of much service on the beach, so I came back to the castle. It occurred to me as possible that our enemy would take advantage of the place being deserted. So I passed the time wandering about the corridors.

"A little time ago I heard a violent commotion and screaming outside Geoffrey's room. I got to the spot as soon as possible, but when I arrived the noise had ceased. Then I stumbled over the body of a woman."

"Woman?" Ravenspur cried. "Impossible!"

"Not in the least," Ralph said coolly. "I picked her up, she was unconscious. My medical knowledge, picked up in all parts of the world, told me that the woman was suffering from some physical shock. That she was not in any danger her steady pulse showed. I placed her on the bed in the blue room."

"And there she is now?" Marion exclaimed.

"So far as I know," Ralph replied. "What she was doing here I haven't the slightest idea."

"And you don't know who she is?" Mrs. Gordon asked.

"How should I? I am blind. I should say that the woman was up to no good here; but I dare say it is possible that she has some decent excuse. On the other hand, she might be one of our deadly foes. Anyway, there she is, and there she is likely to be for some time to come."

Marion rose to her feet.

"Uncle Ralph," she said, "I feel that I could shake you. Have you no feeling?"

"We can't all have your tender heart," Ralph said meekly.

Marion ignored the compliment. She took up the decanter and poured out a glass of wine.

"I am going upstairs at once," she said. "Enemy or no enemy, the poor creature cannot be neglected. You need not come, Vera."

Vera, too, had risen to her feet. She was not going to be put aside.

"But I am coming," she said. "I will not allow you to go up those stairs alone. And Geoffrey shall accompany us."

Marion said no more. She seemed strangely anxious and restless.

Geoffrey followed with a lamp in his hands. Mrs. May lay quietly there, breathing regularly and apparently in a deep sleep.

Marion bent over the bed. As she did so she gasped and the color left her face. She fell away with a cry like fear.

"Oh," she shuddered. "Oh, it is Mrs. May!"

Vera bent over the bed. She unfastened the dress at the throat.

"What does it matter?" she said. "I know you don't like the woman, but she is suffering. Marion, where are your tender feelings?"

Marion said nothing. But she came directly to Vera's side. And Geoffrey glancing at Marion's rigid white face wondered what it all meant.

CHAPTER XLVII

TCHIGORSKY FURTHER EXPLAINS

"I don't quite follow it yet," said Geoffrey.

"And yet it is simple," Tchigorsky replied. "Here is a form of electric battery in the vault connected by tiny wires to every sleeping chamber occupied by a Ravenspur. In each of these bed-rooms a powder is deposited somewhere and the wire leads to it. At a certain time, when you are all asleep, the current is switched on, the powder destroyed without leaving the slightest trace, and in the morning you are all as dead as if you had been placed in a lethal chamber – as a matter of fact, they would have been lethal chambers.

"Almost directly, by means of the chimneys, etc., the rooms would begin to draw a fresh supply of air, and by the time you were discovered everything would be normal again. Then the battery would be removed and the wires withdrawn without even the trouble of entering the rooms to fetch them. Then exit the whole family of Ravenspur, leaving behind a greater mystery than ever. Now do you understand what it all means?"

Geoffrey nodded and shuddered.

"What do you propose to do?" he asked. "Leave the battery where it is, and – "

"Unless I am mistaken, the battery is removed already," said the Russian.

He was correct. Investigation proved that the whole thing had been spirited away.

"As I expected," Tchigorsky muttered. "Done from the vaults under the sea, doubtless. That woman's servants keep very close to her. It is wonderful how they manage to slip about without being seen. They have ascertained that an accident has happened to their mistress, and they have removed signs of the conspiracy. But for the present they cannot remove their mistress."

Tchigorsky chuckled as he spoke.

"You seem pleased over that," said Geoffrey.

"Of course I am, my boy. It enables one to do a little burglary without the chance of being found out. And you are to assist me. But I am not going to start on my errand before midnight; so till then I shall stay here and smoke. At that hour you will please join me."

"I am to accompany you, then?"

"Yes, you are going to be my confederate in crime."

Geoffrey joined the others downstairs. Delight and thankfulness were written on every face. Never had Geoffrey found his family so tender and loving.

Usually, Marion had had her feelings under control, but to-night it seemed as if she could not make enough of her cousin. She hung over him, she lingered near him, until Vera laughingly proclaimed that jealousy was rendering her desperate.

"I cannot help it," Marion said half tearfully. "I am so glad. And if you only knew – but that does not matter. I am beside myself with joy."

"I suppose that woman upstairs is all right," Ravenspur said coldly.

He was by no means pleased that Mrs. May should have intruded twice in that way. And each time there had been some accident. With so much sorrow weighing him down and with the shadow of further disaster ever haunting him, Ravenspur was naturally suspicious.

It seemed absurd, no doubt, but that woman might be taking a hand against the family fortunes. The last occasion was bad enough, but this was many times worse. In the circumstances, as he pointed out, nothing could exceed the bad taste of this intrusion into a deserted house.

"She may not have known it," Mrs. Gordon said quietly. "Who knows but that she had discovered some plot against us and had come to warn us? Perhaps the enemy divined her intentions – hence the accident."

"But was it an accident?" Geoffrey asked.

"Something mysterious, like everything that occurs to us," his wife replied. "At any rate, she is breathing regularly and quietly now, and her skin is moist and cool. Ralph said he had seen something like it in India before. He is convinced that she will be all right in the morning. Don't be angry, father."

Rupert Ravenspur constrained himself to smile.

"I will not forget what is due to my position and my hospitality, my dear," he said. "After Geoffrey's miraculous escape, after the heavy cloud of sorrow so unexpectedly raised, I cannot feel it in my heart to be angry with anybody. How did you manage to get away, Geoffrey?"

Geoffrey told his tale again. It was not nice to be compelled to invent facts in the face of an admiring family; but then the truth could not have been told without betraying Tchigorsky and blowing all his delicate schemes to the winds. He was not sorry when he had finished.

Marion wiped the tears from her eyes.

"It was Providence," she said. "Nothing more nor less."

"Little doubt of it," Gordon murmured. "Geoff, have you any suspicions?"

"I know who did it, if that is what you mean," Geoffrey said, "and so does Marion."

The girl started. Her nerves were in such a pitiable condition that any little thing set them vibrating like the strings of a rudely handled harp.

"If I did I should have spoken," she said.

"Then you have not guessed?" Geoffrey smiled. "The masts and the sculls were sawn by a girl in a blue dress and red tam-o'-shanter cap. The girl who is so like – "

He did not complete the sentence; there was something in Marion's speaking eyes that asked him not to do so. Why he could not tell; but there was nothing to be gained by what was little less than a breach of confidence.

"What does it mean, Marion?" Ravenspur asked.

"Geoffrey and I saw such a girl not long before Geoff set out on his eventful voyage," Marion explained quietly. All the fear had gone out of her eyes; she met the gaze of the speaker tranquilly. "She passed me as I was painting; I have been close to her once before. But I don't understand why Geoff is so certain that the mysterious visitor tried to drown him."

"I've no proof," Geoffrey replied. "It is merely an instinct."

As a matter of fact, he had plenty of proof. Had he not seen the girl hastening away from his boat? Had he not seen her return after the boat had been beached and mourn over the wreck like some creature suffering from deep remorse?

But of this he could say nothing. To speak of it would be to betray the fact that Tchigorsky was still alive and active in pursuit of the foe.

"That woman can be found," Ravenspur said sternly.

"I doubt it," said Geoffrey. "She has a way of disappearing that is remarkable. You see her one moment and the next she has vanished. But I am certain that she is at the bottom of the mischief."

And Geoffrey refused to say more. As a matter of fact, nobody seemed to care to hear anything further. They were worn out with anxiety and exertion. They had had little food that day; the weary hours on the beach had exhausted them.

"For the present we can rest and be thankful," Ravenspur said as he rose to go. "We can sleep with easy minds to-night."

They moved off after him, all but Geoffrey and Vera. Mrs. Gordon could still be heard moving about one of the drawing rooms. Marion had slipped off unobserved. She hardly felt equal to bidding Geoffrey good-night. The tender smile was still on her face as she crept upstairs.

Then when she reached her room it faded away. She flung herself across the bed and burst into a passionate fit of weeping. And then gradually she sobbed herself into a heavy yet uneasy slumber.

"Well, I suppose I must go, too?" Vera said, tired out, yet reluctant to leave her lover. "Tell me what it means, Geoff?"

"Have I not already explained to you, darling?"

"Yes, but I don't believe one word of it," Vera replied. A kiss sufficed to wash the bitterness of the candor away. "I don't believe you were picked up by a yacht. I don't believe that you were in any danger. I don't understand it."

"Then we are both in the same state of benighted ignorance," Geoffrey smiled. "You are right not to believe me, dearest, but I had to tell the story and I had to play a part. It is all in the desperate game we are playing against our secret foe. For the present I am a puppet in the hands of abler men than myself. What I am doing will go far to set us free later."

Vera sighed gently. She sidled closer to her lover. Mrs. Gordon was coming out of the drawing room, a sign that Vera would have to go.

"I feel that I don't want to part with you again," she whispered, her eyes looking into his and her arm about him. "I feel as if I had nearly lost you. And if I did lose you, darling, what would become of me?"

Geoffrey kissed the quivering lips tenderly.

"Have no fear, sweetheart," he said; "all is coming right. See how those people have been frustrated over and over again. They have come with schemes worthy of Satan himself and yet they have failed. And it has been so arranged that those failures seem to be the result of vexatious accident. But they are not. And they will fail again and again until the net is around them and we shall be free. Darling, you are to sleep in peace to-night."

With a last fond embrace Vera slipped from her lover's side. She smiled at him brightly from the doorway and was gone. Geoffrey lighted a cigarette that presently dropped from his fingers and his head fell forward.

He started suddenly; the cigarette smelt pungently as it singed the carpet. Somebody was whispering his name; somebody was calling him from the stairs. Then he recognized Ralph's croaking voice.

"Tchigorsky," he muttered sleepily. "I had forgotten that Tchigorsky wanted me."

CHAPTER XLVIII

MORE FROM THE PAST

Tchigorsky was waiting. The room was pregnant with the perfume of Turkish cigarettes and coffee. Ralph handed a cup to his nephew.

"Drink that," he said. "You want something to keep you awake."

Geoffrey accepted the coffee gratefully. It had the desired effect. He felt the clouds lifting from his brain and the drowsy heaviness of limb leaving him.

"Are you coming with us?" he asked.

Ralph shook his head. There was a strange gleam on his face.

"I stay here," he said. "You are going to be busy, but I also have much to do. Don't be concerned for me. Blind as I am, I am capable of taking care of myself. I shall have a deal to tell you in the morning."

A minute or two later and the two conspirators slipped away. It struck Geoffrey as strange that they should not leave the house in the usual way; but Tchigorsky grimly explained that he much preferred using the ivy outside Ralph's window.

"Always be on the safe side," Tchigorsky muttered. "Come along."

Geoffrey followed. Where Tchigorsky could go he felt competent to follow. They reached the ground in safety and later were in the road. The moon had gone and it was intensely dark, but Geoffrey knew the way perfectly.

"Straight to Jessop's farm?" he asked.

"As far as the lawn," Tchigorsky replied. "It will be a good hour yet before we can venture to carry out our burglary. I can run no risks until I know that those two Asiatics are out of the way. What time is it?"

"About ten minutes to twelve."

Tchigorsky muttered that the time was not quite suitable for him. He drew a watch from his pocket; there was a stifled whirr of machinery, and the repeater's rapid pulse beat twelve with the silvery chime of a quarter after the hour.

"You are wrong," he said. "You see it is between a quarter and half-past twelve. We will lie on Jessop's lawn till one o'clock and then all will be safe."

They lay there waiting for the time to pass. The minutes seemed to be weighted. "Tell me some more of your Lassa adventures," Geoffrey asked.

"Very well," Tchigorsky replied. "Where did I leave off? Ah, we had just been tortured on that awful grill. And we had been offered our lives on condition that we consented to be hopeless idiots for the rest of our days.

"Well, we were not going to live in these circumstances, you may be sure. For the next few days we were left to our own resources in a dark dungeon with the huge rats and vermin for company. We were half starved into the bargain, and when we were brought into the light once more they naturally expected submission.

"But they didn't get it. They did not realize the stuff we were made of. And they had no idea we were armed. We had our revolvers and concealed in our pockets were some fifty rounds of ammunition. If the worst came to the worst we should not die without a struggle.

"Well, there was a huge palaver over us before the priests in the big temple, with Zara on her throne, and a fine, impressive scene it was, or, at least, it would have been had we not been so interested as to our own immediate future. At any rate, it was a comfort to know that there were no more tortures for the present, for nothing of the kind was to be seen. We were going to die; we could read our sentence in the eyes of the priests long before the elaborate mummery was over.

"I tell you it seemed hard to perish like that just at the time when we had penetrated nearly all the secrets we had come in search of. And it was no less hard to know that if the princess had postponed her visit another week she would have been too late. By that time we should have left Lassa far behind.

"The trial or ceremony, or whatever you like to call it, came to an end at length, and then we were brought up to the throne of the princess. You know the woman, you have looked upon the beauty and fascination of her face; but you have no idea how different she was in the home of her people. She looked a real queen, a queen from head to foot. We stood awed before her.

"'You have been offered terms and refused them,' she said. 'It is now too late.'

"'We could not trust you,' I replied boldly; we had nothing to gain by politeness. 'Better anything than the living death you offered us. And we can only die once.'

"The princess smiled in her blood-curdling way.

"'You do not know what you are talking about,' she said. 'Ah, you will find out when you come to walk the Black Valley!'

"She gave a sign and we were led away unbound. A quaint wailing music filled the air; the priests were singing our funeral song. I never fully appreciated the refined cruelty of reading the burial service to a criminal on his way to the scaffold till then. It makes me shudder to think of it even now.

"They led us out into the open air, still crooning that dirge. They brought us at length to the head of a great valley between huge towering mountains, as if the Alps had been sliced in two and a narrow passage made between them. At the head of this passage was a door let into the cliff and down through this door they thrust us. It was dark inside. For the first part of the way, till we reached the floor of the valley, we were to be accompanied by four priests, a delicate attention to prevent us from breaking our necks before we reached the bottom. But our guides did not mean us to perish so mercifully.

"'Listen to me,' Zara cried, 'listen for the last time. You are going into the Black Valley; of its horror and dangers you know nothing as yet. But you will soon learn. Take comfort in the fact that there is an exit at the far end if you can find it. When you are out of the exit you are free. Thousands have walked this valley, and over their dry bones you will make your way. Out of these thousands one man escaped. Perhaps you will be as fortunate. Farewell!'

"The door clanged behind us, and we were alone with the priests. We could not see, we could only feel our way down those awful cliffs, where one false step would have smashed us to pieces. But the priests never hesitated. Down, down we went until we reached the bottom. There we could just see dimly.

"'You could guide us through?' I asked.

"One of the priests nodded. He could save us if he liked. Not that I was going to waste my breath by asking him. They were priests of a minor degree; there were thousands of them about the temple, all alike as peas in a pod. If these men failed to return they would never be missed. A desperate resolution came to me. In a few English whispered words I conveyed it to Ralph Ravenspur.

"We still had a priest on either side of us. At a given signal we produced our revolvers, and before the priests had the remotest idea what had happened two of them were dead on the ground, shot through the brain. When the thousand and one echoes died away we each had our man by the throat. What did we care if the plot was discovered or not! We were both desperate.

"'Listen, dog,' I cried. 'You have seen your companions perish. If you would escape a similar death, you will bear us to safety. You shall walk ten paces in front, and if you try to evade us you die, for our weapons carry farther than you can run in the space of two minutes. Well, are you going to convey us to a place of safety, or shall we shoot you like the others?'"

Tchigorsky paused and pulled at his watch. He drew back the catch and the rapid little pulse beat one.

Then he rose to his feet.

"To be continued in our next," he said. "The time has come to act. Follow me and betray no surprise at anything you may see or hear."

"You can rely upon me," Geoffrey whispered. "Lead on."

CHAPTER XLIX

RALPH TAKES CHARGE

The troubled house had fallen asleep at last. They were all used to the swooping horrors; they could recall the black times spread out over the weary years; they could vividly recollect how one trouble after another had happened.

And it had been an eventful day. For the last few hours they had lived a fresh tragedy. True, the tragedy itself had been averted, but for some time there had been the agony of the real thing. The Ravenspurs, exhausted by the flood of emotion, had been glad of rest.

They were presumably asleep now, all but Ralph. Long after deep silence had fallen on the house he sat alone in the darkness. The glow of his pipe just touched his inscrutable features and a faint halo of light played about his grizzled head. A mouse nibbling behind the panels sounded clear as the crack of a pistol shot. The big stable clock boomed two.

Ralph laid aside his pipe and crept to the door. He opened it silently and passed out into the corridor. A cat would not have made less noise. Yet he moved swiftly and confidently, as one who has eyes to see familiar ground. He came at length to the room where Mrs. May was lying.

She had been made fairly comfortable. Her dress had been loosened at the throat, but she still wore the clothes in which she had been dressed at the time of her accident.

Later she would perhaps find it difficult to account for masquerading in the castle in that strange guise. That she would have some ingenious plea to put forward Ralph felt certain. But the dress was another matter. Ralph grinned to himself as he thought of it.

There was a light in the room. He could tell that by the saffron glow that touched lightly on his sightless eyeballs. He knew the disposition of the room as well as if he could see it. He felt his way across until he came to the bed on which the woman lay.

His hand touched her throat – a gentle touch – yet his fingers crooked and a murderous desire blossomed like a rose in his heart. Nobody was about and nobody would know. Who could connect the poor blind man with the deed? Why not end her life now?