The Motor Pirate Part 11

"Nonsense, man!" I said sharply.

To tell the truth, my own nerves, in spite of the whisky, were in none too firm a condition; and I knew it would be fatal to allow myself to become infected by the very obvious funk which had seized upon my companion. I felt, however, I must be doing something unless I wanted to succ.u.mb.

"Look here," I said, "you wait by the car a few minutes, while I go two or three hundred yards further up the road, to see if I can find any other traces."

"I--I would much rather you--you didn't leave me," stammered the sergeant. "It's bad enough for there to be only the two of us."

"Come, pull yourself together," I replied roughly. "There's nothing to be afraid of."

"I don't think I can stand being left here alone," repeated the sergeant.

"Very well; you had better come along with me then," I replied.

He jumped into the car beside me with alacrity, and I started the motor, though not until I had arranged my revolver handily at my side. We went for a mile at our slowest pace in the direction of Stratford, and finding nothing, we returned, and covered the same distance in the direction of Towcester, with a similar result. Our progress was brought to a termination by our meeting with a trap containing the doctor, who was accompanied by a couple of constables. When we recognized who was approaching, the change that came over the demeanour of the sergeant was astonis.h.i.+ng. All his courage came back to him. He talked to me quite easily as we returned to the scene of the outrage with the trap keeping close behind us; and when we pulled up, he took control of the proceedings as if he had never felt a moment's tremor in his life. He must have observed my astonishment, for he took me aside and said--

"I was a bit overcome just now, sir. You won't mention it before my men."

"Certainly not," I answered. "I was only one degree better myself."

"That's enough to make any one feel creepy," he said, jerking his thumb towards the silent figure.

We did nothing but stand about and talk in subdued tones, until the doctor had completed his examination of the silent figure by the light of my lamps. It did not last long.

"Death was instantaneous," he said, as he stepped down from the car.

"The bullet appears to have pa.s.sed straight along the longitudinal sinus, and, as near as I can tell, he must have been dead about an hour."

"You would like to make a more extensive examination, I suppose, doctor?" said the sergeant.

"If a suitable place were available," he replied.

The sergeant mentioned an inn at a village not far distant, and, the doctor acquiescing, arrangements were at once made for conveying the body there, the sergeant and I setting out in advance to provide for its reception.

I am not going into any further detail regarding the proceedings of that night. Indeed I can to-day scarcely recall them. I know that I waited at the inn for a long while after the melancholy _cortege_ arrived, and that I felt curiously dazed amidst all the bustle caused by the arrival.

I remember eventually driving the sergeant back to Towcester, and making to him a long statement, which he took down in writing.

By the time I had completed this statement day had dawned. I shall never forget my impressions of that early morning as I rode home alone. The birds were twittering in the hedgerows, a soft white mist hung low down over the meadows, all nature was so serene and peaceful that it was difficult to imagine that the night which had pa.s.sed had been so full of horror and mystery. I felt as one awakened from a dream. But on my way I pa.s.sed the deserted motor-car. A constable was beside it, and I pulled up to speak to him.

"Seen nothing of Inspector Forrest, I suppose?" I asked.

"Nothing," he replied.

I gave him good morning and got on. I made similar inquiries at Fenny Stratford, and again at Dunstable, still without result. I comforted myself with the thought that at St. Albans I should certainly hear news of him. But no. I found the police wild with excitement, but entirely without any information as to what had become of the missing detective.

I found, however, that they did not share my forebodings as to anything serious having happened to him. Their view was that he had discovered some clue, and was hard upon the track of the murderer. I had to give them a complete history of the events of the night. But I got away at last, and reached home as tired as I had ever been in my life.

I took a bath as hot as I could bear it, and went straight to bed. I was dead beat, and I fell asleep instantly.

I awoke some time in the afternoon, and when I had got the sleep out of my eyes, and the events of the previous night came back to me, I felt inclined to curse myself for having thought of resting. I felt certain that if it had been myself who was missing, Forrest would not have slept until he had discovered something concerning my fate. I made a hasty meal while dressing, and ordered my car to be brought round. Directly it appeared I hurried off to St. Albans.

Nothing had been seen or heard there of Forrest, and once more I set out upon the road I had traversed the previous night. Again I rode as far as Towcester. I had a chat with the sergeant of police, and found that, though search parties had scoured the country round for miles, no intelligence had been obtained. I made arrangements to appear at the inquest on the following day, and returned to St. Albans. Still no news.

I got home again about seven, sick at heart. I had counted so much upon Forrest's a.s.sistance in the fulfilment of my vow; but that was only a secondary consideration now. I had grown to like him so much, that the idea that he had met with any mischance knocked me over completely. I went into my study and threw myself moodily into a chair. My man brought me in some whisky, and hovered about until I told him to go.

"You were going to dine at Mr. Winter's to-night, sir, with Mr.

Forrest," he reminded me.

The engagement had completely pa.s.sed from my memory.

"I shall be unable to go, Wilson," I said.

"They haven't found Mr. Forrest, then, sir?" said the man respectfully.

He was simply br.i.m.m.i.n.g over with curiosity.

"No. I'm afraid we shall never see him alive again," I groaned.

"Dear me! Not so bad as that, I hope, sir," he responded sympathetically, as he still lingered.

"Not half so bad as that, Wilson," remarked a cheery voice just outside the door.

My man started, and I jumped to my feet with a shout of welcome.

"Forrest! Forrest!" I cried. "Come along in, man."

"Well, if I may?" replied Forrest's voice.

"If you may!" I answered. "Why--what the----!"

My astonishment at the appearance he presented as he entered the room choked my further utterance.

The man who entered was a veritable scarecrow. A man with a torn coat and rent trowsers, and a battered hat which barely held together upon his head. He was covered from head to foot with mud. His face was dirty, unshaven, disreputable.

"Forrest? Is it indeed you?" I could not but ask, when my speech returned to me.

"I don't ask you to recognize me until I have had a bath and a shave,"

he replied. "But when I have sacrificed to Hygeia, I expect to be presentable enough to dine with Mr. Winter to-night. I've been wondering all day whether I should manage to get here in time. Meanwhile, the least spot of whisky----"

I could not express my delight at his return, and unthinkingly I poured out nearly a tumbler of the neat spirit, and felt almost hurt when he returned all but one finger to the decanter.

"If you give me a dose like that, I shall certainly be unable to accompany you," he said.

I could curb my curiosity no longer. I burst out with a string of questions.

"Where have you been? What has happened to you? Why did you disappear?

How----"

He stopped me. "So that's why you gave me all that whisky. You wanted to make me talk, eh?"

I laughingly disa.s.sociated myself from any such intention, and, putting the curb on my curiosity, I turned him over to Wilson to be valeted out of the semblance to a tramp.

The process took some time, and when he came downstairs in irreproachable evening clothes, there was no time for him to give me the history of his adventures unless we were to miss our dinner.