Witness to the Deed Part 40

"He is, sir, and last night he tried to strangle me."

"What?"

"He did, sir, as I'm a sinful soul, and when I got away from him down the stairs and back here into my room, it's a mercy as I didn't faint away."

"He touched you?"

"Touched me, sir? He seized me. Oh, poor, dear gentleman, he's gone."

"Look here," said Guest sharply, "have you told anybody about it?"

"No, sir; not yet."

"Then for Heaven's sake don't, Mrs Brade," said Guest, in a low, hurried tone. "It was, perhaps, only a sudden paroxysm. You say you like him."

"Which indeed I do, sir."

"Then pray be silent. If such a report were spread it would be his ruin."

"Yes, sir, I thought of all that, and doctors signing things, and keepers coming to take him to shut him up in cells, with chains, and darkness, and howlings, and gnas.h.i.+ng his teeth. Oh, my poor dear! my poor dear! Such a bonnie, good, lovable gentleman as you were!"

Mrs Brade threw up her ap.r.o.n to her face and burst out into such a genuine pa.s.sion of sobs and tears that Guest was touched, and he rose and placed his hand upon her arm.

"Hush, hus.h.!.+" he whispered; "don't take on like that. Perhaps it is only due to excitement, and he'll soon come round."

"Do you think so, sir?" cried the woman, dropping her ap.r.o.n.

"I do, indeed, if he is kept quiet. Why, if it was known--"

"And the keepers came, sir?"

"Come, come, it's not so bad as that. You have curious ideas about the treatment of the insane."

"Oh, no, sir; I've heard so much, sir."

"Never mind: we will not argue that. One thing is certain--any worry or excitement would be sure to make him worse."

"Of course, sir."

At that moment Mr Brade's hard breathing was audible through the door and curtain, and Guest looked at it uneasily.

"Then you have not told your husband?"

"Indeed, no, sir."

"Then do not. Nor anyone else. We must keep this as our secret, Mrs Brade. My poor friend will come right I hope and feel, in time; so help me to guard him from all worry."

"Indeed I will, sir."

"No one must know. It would be bad for him at the inst.i.tution."

"Yes, sir, and he'd have to give up his chambers, of course, if any of the neighbours--I mean gentlemen in the other rooms--made complaints."

"All of which we can avoid. It only wants time. There, I'll go up and see him now, and Mr Brettison, too. Mind, I rely upon your being discreet."

"Of course, sir, and thank you for coming in. You don't know how much good you've done me, sir."

"I'm glad you spoke to me," said Guest; and he went across the inn to Stratton's chambers.

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

IN GROSS DARKNESS.

The staircase was very gloomy and quiet as Guest ascended, and he paused on the landing on finding Stratton's outer door shut, and after a few moments' hesitation, turned off to the left, meaning to have a few words with Brettison about their friend's state.

This door was also shut and he turned back, but feeling that, perhaps, after all, Brettison might be in, he knocked; waited; knocked again, and stood listening.

"Off somewhere again picking flowers," muttered Guest. "Men begin by picking them as children, and some end their lives gathering the sweet, innocent looking things."

He, however, gave one more double knock before turning away and going back to Stratton's door.

Here he knocked gently, but there was no reply. He knocked again, feeling a sensation of nervousness come over him as he thought of the words of the porter's wife; and, as there was no reply, he could not help a little self-congratulation at there being no admission.

But he frowned at his weakness directly.

"Absurd! Cowardice!" he muttered. "This is nothing like acting the friend."

He knocked again, and, as there was still silence, he lifted the cover of the letter slit and placed his lips to the place.

"Here, Malcolm, old fellow, open this door," he cried. "I'm sure you are there."

A faint rustling sound within told him he was right, and directly after the door was opened.

"You, Percy!" said the hollow-faced, haggard man, staring at him, and giving way unwillingly as, forcing himself to act, Guest stepped forward and entered the room.

He repented the moment he was inside, for the room looked strange and gloomy through the window blind being drawn down, and there was a singularly wild, strained look in Stratton's eyes, which never left him for a moment, suggestive of the truth of Mrs Brade's words.

Stratton had hurriedly closed the outer door upon his friend's entrance, but he had left the inner undone; and now stood holding it open as if for his visitor to go.

Guest felt ready to obey, but he again mastered his weakness and took a chair, knowing that if he was to perform a manly act and save his friend, he must be calm and firm. But in spite of himself, as he took his seat he gave a hasty glance round the room, thinking of its loneliness, and the extreme improbability of anyone hearing a cry for help.

"Why have you come back so soon?" said Stratton at last.

"The old reason. Sort of stupid, spaniel-like feeling for the man who kicks me."

Stratton made a hasty gesture.