The Hunt Ball Mystery Part 8

"What else?" Kelson returned. "How otherwise could the door have been locked. Unless--" He glanced sharply at the deep recess, or inner chamber, formed by the bartizan, hesitated a moment, and then going quickly to it, looked in.

"No, nothing there," he announced with a breath of relief. "I had for the moment an idea it might have been a double tragedy," he added with a shudder.

"So we are forced back to the suicide theory," Gifford remarked. He had gone to the landing outside the door.

"Yes," Kelson replied as he joined him. "But as to the woman in the case, who could she possibly have been? I knew most of the girls who were at the dance, and the idea of a tragedy with any one of them seems inconceivable."

"One would think so," Gifford responded. "And yet--"

"You think it possible?" Kelson demanded incredulously.

"Possible, if far from probable," the other answered with conviction.

"There are women who can be as secret as the grave, at any rate so far as appearances to the outer world are concerned. I wonder whom he danced with. Do you remember?"

"No. I seem to recollect him with a girl in a light green dress, but that does not take us far."

Footsteps on the stairway announced their host's return.

"The police will be here, directly," he reported, "and, I hope, a doctor.

I have done my best to keep it from the ladies, and I don't think that, so far, any of them has an exact idea of what made me turn them back.

Just as well the horror should be kept dark as long as possible. It is such an awful blow to me that I can scarcely realize it yet."

"Miss Morriston does not know?" Kelson asked.

"No. And I only hope it won't give her a dislike to the house when she does. For I am hoping to have her here a good deal with me, even if she marries."

A police inspector accompanied by a detective and a constable now arrived. Morriston took them into the room of death. Gifford grasped Kelson's arm.

"I don't think there is any use in our staying here," he suggested. "Let us go down."

The other man nodded, and they began to descend.

"You are not going, Kelson?" Morriston cried, hurrying to the door.

"We thought we could be of no use and might be in the way,"

Gifford replied.

"Oh, I wish you would stay," Morriston urged, going down a few steps to them. "I know it is not pleasant; on the contrary it's a ghastly affair; but I should like to have you with me till this police business is over.

I won't ask you to stay up here, but if you don't mind waiting downstairs I should be so grateful. I might want your advice. You'll find the rest of the party in the drawing-room."

The two could do no less than promise, and, with a word of thanks, Morriston went back to the officials.

As the two men crossed the hall the drawing-room door opened and Miss Morriston came out.

"Is my brother coming?" she asked.

"He will be down soon," Gifford answered in as casual a tone as he could a.s.sume.

The girl seemed struck by the gravity of their faces as she glanced from one to the other. "I hope nothing is wrong," she observed, with just a shade of apprehension.

There was a momentary pause as each man, hesitating between a direct falsehood, the truth, and a plausible excuse, rather waited for the other to speak.

Gifford answered. "No, nothing that you need worry about, Miss Morriston.

Your brother will tell you later on."

But the hesitation seemed to have aroused the girl's suspicions. "Do tell me now," she said, with just a tremor of anxiety underlying the characteristic coldness of her tone. "Unless," she added, "it is something not exactly proper for me to hear."

Kelson quickly availed himself of the loophole she gave him. "You had better wait and hear it from d.i.c.k," he said, suggesting a move towards the drawing-room. "In the meantime there is nothing you need be alarmed about."

"It all sounds very mysterious," Miss Morriston returned, her apprehension scarcely hidden by a forced smile. "I must go and ask d.i.c.k--"

As she turned towards the pa.s.sage leading to the tower Kelson sprang forward and intercepted her. "No, no, Miss Morriston," he remonstrated with a prohibiting gesture, "don't go up there now. Take my word for it you had better not. d.i.c.k will be down directly to explain what is wrong."

For a few moments her eyes rested on him searchingly.

"Very well," she said at length. "If you say I ought not to go, I won't.

But you don't lessen my anxiety to know what has happened."

"There is no particular cause for anxiety on your part," Kelson said rea.s.suringly.

She had turned and now led the way to the drawing-room. As they entered they were received by expectant looks.

"Well, is the mystery solved?" young Tredworth inquired.

Kelson gave him a silencing look. "You'll hear all about it in good time," he replied between lightness and gravity.

Piercy rose to take his leave.

"Oh, you must not go yet," Miss Morriston protested. "They are just bringing tea."

"But I fear I may be in the way if there is anything--" he urged.

"Oh, no," his hostess insisted. "I don't know of anything wrong. At least neither Captain Kelson nor Mr. Gifford will admit anything. You must have tea before your long drive."

The subject of the mystery in the tower was tacitly dropped, perhaps from a vague feeling that it was best not alluded to, at any rate by the ladies, and the conversation flowed, with more or less effort, on ordinary local topics. Tea over, Piercy took his leave.

"You must come again, Mr. Piercy, while you are in this part of the county," Miss Morriston said graciously, "when you shall have no episodes of lost keys to hinder your researches. My brother shall write to you."

Kelson took the departing visitor out into the hall to see him off.

"You'll see it all in the papers to-morrow, I expect," he said in a confidential tone, "so there is no harm in telling you there has been a most gruesome discovery in that locked room. A man who was here at the Hunt Ball, has been found dead; suicide no doubt. The police are here now."

"Good heavens! A mercy the ladies did not see it."

"Yes; they'll have to know sooner or later. The later the better."

"Yes, indeed. Any idea of the cause of the sad business?"

"None, as yet. A complete mystery."