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Witness to the Deed, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 43. The Revelation |
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_ CHAPTER FORTY THREE. THE REVELATION "It was the act of a woman, Stratton," said Brettison with an apologetic smile, "but I am only a weak old man, and never weaker than in those moments. "I could not have been there a moment, and I must have glided down, or you would have heard me. I came to and for a moment could not understand why I was there. Then all came back with overwhelming force, and I crept back to the panel to look through. "You were returning from the door, and the next moment were standing by the body, with the pistol in your hand, apparently unharmed; and then, to my horror, it seemed as if you were about to use the weapon upon yourself; but to my intense relief I saw you thrust it into your pocket, and then stand by the body as if bereft of sense, utterly helpless as to what course to pursue. While sharing your misery I forgot my intentions of seeking help; and, nerving myself for the encounter, I was about to come round, but your looks chained me to the spot, and, utterly helpless now, I stayed there watching your wild, countenance and reading its meaning, as with an eager, hunted look you went to the outer door, opened it, and stood looking down. Then carefully closing both, you went to the window to peer out furtively from the side of the blind, as if to make out whether by any possibility anyone could have overlooked the scene. "I knew that you had some plan in mind by your actions, and it rapidly dawned on me what it was, as, like one suffering from nightmare I stood watching, with the cold sweat gathering on my face, as I saw you go toward the other side of the fireplace, come into sight again and take a chair in the same direction. "I soon divined, though, that it was to hold open the door, and now came the horror of the scene." Stratton uttered a low groan as he sat there with his face buried in his hands, and Brettison went on: "It was all clear to me now. You were seeking for a way out of your terrible dilemma by concealing the body, and I looked on, speechless with horror, as I saw you stoop to seize the arms, droop forward, and fall across the chest." "I was faint from my hurt," said Stratton, almost in a whisper. "But you rose directly, and I saw you drag the body toward the door of your bathroom and, as if drawn there to know the rest, I came back here and stood listening by that loose panel, where the scene stood out as vividly before me as if I were in the same room." Stratton groaned, while, excited by his narration, Brettison went on: "You were evidently faint still, and weak, for I heard you stop again and again, only to resume the dreadful task of dragging the body along the floor, till at last you stood within a few feet of me, and I could hear your laboured breathing for a few minutes, followed by a sound that I knew to be the throwing back of the bath lid; and then followed what you know--that horrible struggle with a weight with which you were not fit to cope. A minute later the lid was closed and you shut and locked the bath-closet door, while I sat down, faint and exhausted, to try and think out what I should do. "I must have sat there for a long time, for I was roused by the sound of voices in your room, and heard the scene that took place with the admiral. I knew that you fainted, and that Guest tried the door which you had locked; and I shuddered as I thought of what that place contained, and how easily the discovery might follow. "By this time I had made up my mind how to act; and, after stealing out to get the necessary tools, I waited my time and set to work. It was a long task, for I had to work and not make a sound; but the old fastening soon gave way, and I drew the door open and stood shivering in the narrow place, with yours and Guest's words coming plainly to me. "At times you were angry, at other times Guest spoke loudly, and twice over he had the outer door open to talk to people on the landing. "Those were my opportunities, and, helped by strength I did not think I possessed, I worked on, dragging the body out inch by inch, and lowering him down. A dozen times over I felt that I must be heard, but you were both too intent upon yourselves, and your words often rose to a quarrel on one side, and, as I said, at such times I worked, till at last I bore the man through the door and laid him there." He pointed to the heavy rug in front of the fireplace, and, as if fascinated, Stratton gazed at the spot. "The rest of the task was lighter for the moment; I had but to close the door, and secure it slightly. I left the proper fastening up till a future time, and I'll tell you that now--the fastening up took place at the time when you were working shudderingly in the dark, taking in cans of spirit, and pouring them gurgling and echoing into the bath; and I heard all this, and the final screwing down of the lid and screwing up of your door. I tell you I heard it all, boy, and still worked on in your service." "In my service?" said Stratton blankly. "Yes. Why did I do all this? Did I not know that, in spite of all your scheming and precautions, sooner or later the discovery must be made. Was I to let you live on with that horror waiting always at your elbow, driving you mad with dread, as I felt it was bound to do? It was for your sake, boy, that I fought as I did, and brought your victim out here." "But tell me--what did you mean to do?" "How can I, when my own ideas were all vague and strange, as I sat there that night with this,"--he tapped his water-pipe--"and tried to hit on some plan; and somehow the horror passed away, and I felt no fear of the poor wretch lying there before me. I wondered at myself--that I could sit there so calmly smoking, in the face of all that had passed; but I did, for I said to myself, 'What is death, after all, but sleep?' "So I sat and thought, much as a man would under the circumstances--much as you did--and I felt that I had done right in this my first step toward saving you from the pain and suffering that was sure to come; for I had no doubt of the discovery. Then I argued that such a wretch was worthless, and that, even dead, he ought not to have the power to injure two people whom I loved. I knew that you meant to hide your--" "Crime," interposed Stratton. "I never looked upon it as a crime. Let us call it your misfortune in slaying another in the effort to save your own life. There, then, was my position. I had gone so far; and, difficult as the task had seemed, the task was easy beside that which was to come." "Tell me what you did," said Stratton hoarsely. "I tell you I sat down to think," said Brettison coolly, "and the more I thought the more impossible the task seemed to grow. I told myself that it must be done--that body must be concealed where no prying eyes could find it, and so that he who hid it could never be forced to bear the blame. "If the poor wretch were discovered, it did not matter, thought I--no one would know him. Even if it was found who he was, it did not matter; for, I tell you, I felt no compunction, and I told myself that in time you would get over the shock and might be happy after all; for I said that you would have no greater cause for self-reproach than the soldier who slays an enemy to save his own life. "What, then, could I do? Get the poor wretch carried down to a cab, have him borne to a hospital, and escape in the bustle of the ambulance being brought to him? "That meant discovery, I felt sure. And I thought of the streets by night. In all probability, no one had seen him come up to the chambers; but I was damped directly there; for those who carried the man down would be able to tell whence he came, and hundreds would be glad to play the amateur detective and hunt me down. "On all hands I was checked," continued Brettison, "and I could not help thinking, as I found myself hedged in by obstacles, how much safer we all are in London than we think. The difficulty seemed to increase, and at last I began to recall the story in the 'Arabian Nights' about the man choking himself to death with a bone, and the trouble his host had to dispose of the body. You remember about how they propped it up against another man's door, so that he knocked it down and imagined that he had killed the intruder. I fancied myself carrying the man into the streets myself, but I did not." Brettison said all this in so careless and jaunty a manner, that Stratton raised his head and gazed at him in horror and disgust. For how could he treat so terrible an event so lightly, and discourse of all his thoughts as they came to him with the body lying on the rug just at his feet. Stratton's look had its effect, for Brettison became a little uneasy. "Ah, I see you are shocked at my way of treating the matter. Well, I suppose I am wrong. It is all fresh and terrible to you; it has no repulsion for me now. I am only able to look back upon it all as a curious experience of life--a singular turn of the wheel--by which I, a retiring, simple-minded botanist, whose greatest excitement was the discovery of a fresh herb or plant new to England, suddenly found himself playing the part of accomplice to one who had taken another's life." "Accomplice?" faltered Stratton. "Of course. The law would treat me as being so. Was I not trying to dispose of the body of the victim so as to screen you from discovery? Oh, yes; an accomplice. Yes, I argued to myself that the man died by his own hand, and that I was working for your happiness." "For Heaven's sake, Brettison, don't talk like this!" cried Stratton, almost fiercely. "It is too horrible!" "You think so," said the old man, with a faint smile of amusement. "Ah, well! we view these things from different points." "Tell me at once what you did--with it." "Let me tell you my own way. Old men are tedious, Stratton, and I am, I suppose, no exception to the rule. However, I will be brief, for I am torturing you, I fear. I racked my brains for hours and evoked dozens of plans, but there was always some terrible obstacle in the way, and at last I sat back here in utter despair, seeing nothing but the plain fact before me--that your wisdom was greater than mine, and that the only way out of the difficulty was the one you had chosen--to restore the body to the hiding-place in there. "It was miserably humiliating, but I could do no more. It was madness to keep the poor wretch where I had laid him; discovery might come at any time. Once I thought of leaving him there and going away myself-- disappearing, as it were, from the world. I could keep my chambers untouched for months--perhaps years--by sending a cheque to the agent from time to time. But I knew that this must end in discovery. An unforeseen event might result in the chambers being opened and searched, and, in all probability, the dead might take revenge and prove our betrayer--you, as a naturalist, know how. "I gave that up, then, like the rest, and, in utter despair, began to unfasten the door again, drew it open, listened, and all was still. You and Guest were, in all probability, asleep. "Going back to the hearthrug, sick and in disgust, I stooped down to reverse my repulsive task, when, as I touched the body and half raised his head and shoulders from the floor, like a flash of lightning, the way out of the difficulty came. Then, overcome by my emotion, I literally reeled into my bedroom like a drunken man, and dropped upon my knees by my pillow in the thankfulness of my heart, though it was long before I could utter other words than--'Heaven, I thank thee! My poor lad is saved.'" _ |
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