The Gay Triangle Part 18

It was about two o'clock when d.i.c.k, who was a light sleeper, was roused by a shout for help, apparently from the drawing-room which was directly below his bedroom. Instantly he sprang out of bed, and s.n.a.t.c.hing up a revolver, rushed downstairs.

But he was just too late.

As he entered the brilliantly lighted drawing-room he caught sight through the open window of a heavy misshapen body disappearing into the gloom beyond the bright patch of light cast by the electric lamps on the lawn outside.

Renstoke lay on his back on the floor, dying beside his favourite chair.

Close by was the book he had been reading and on the carpet near it was his pipe, the tobacco still smouldering.

d.i.c.k knelt hastily by the side of his friend and sought frantically to revive him. But it was in vain. The young peer died in his arms. It was evident that he had been attacked without the slightest warning, and mercilessly strangled.

And in the side of his throat, just above the jugular vein, was a deep wound, horribly lacerated, from which the blood flowed in a heavy stream.

The Castle was speedily aroused, and in a few minutes half a dozen men were busily searching the surrounding country. But it was in vain--the mysterious a.s.sailant of the unfortunate Lord Renstoke had vanished completely.

The following day d.i.c.k, Jules, and Yvette, almost overcome with grief, were discussing the loss of their friend.

"There is some devilry at work," d.i.c.k declared. "And I shall never rest till it is cleared up, if I spend the rest of my life here."

Yvette burst into a furious philippic against Erckmann. "That man is at the bottom of it all," she insisted.

"But, Yvette," d.i.c.k remonstrated, "we have no kind of evidence of that."

"I don't care," she replied vehemently, "Erckmann knows all about it. I should like to choke it out of him," she ended viciously in French.

"Well," said Jules, "we can't go to Lockie and accuse him. How about trying a trap of some kind?"

"We might do it in that way," d.i.c.k admitted. "But what kind of trap?"

Long and eagerly they discussed the matter, and at length a plan was evolved.

The next morning brought them a visit from Inspector Buckman, one of the ablest men of the Special Branch at Scotland Yard, to whom, utterly baffled, the police had very wisely applied for help. He was well known to all of them as a keen, capable man of infinite resource and undaunted courage.

Buckman listened closely while d.i.c.k ran over the story, putting in a keen question here and there.

"We have got to keep the real facts quiet," he said at length.

"Erckmann must not suspect that we have the smallest inkling of the evidence of Lord Renstoke's death. I will fix that up with the coroner."

It was an easy matter. Renstoke Castle was a remote spot, and while the affair, of course, could not be entirely concealed, it was a simple matter to keep the exact details secret. All the public learned was that Lord Renstoke had been attacked and murdered presumably by a burglar for whom a close search was being made.

But behind all and working in secret the keen brains of d.i.c.k, Yvette, Jules, and Buckman were busy.

Two or three nights later the word went round to the scattered farms that every single head of stock was to be driven in to the farms and rigidly confined in the buildings from dusk to daybreak. So far as they could ensure it not a single living thing was at large.

d.i.c.k's trap was arranged on the hill-side a mile from Renstoke.

Four inches above the ground, in a circle fifty yards in diameter, ran a thin electric wire supported at intervals on small insulated posts.

Just inside the circle, on the side away from Renstoke, a sheep was tethered to a strong stake. In the centre of the circle from a tall pole hung a powerful magnesium flash, electrically connected so that it would be at once exploded by any pressure on the encircling wire, and momentarily light up with day-time brilliance a large patch of the surrounding country.

As dusk fell, d.i.c.k, Yvette, Jules, and Buckman carefully crossed the wire and took up their positions in the centre of the circle, lying full length in the sheltering heather, and each with a revolver ready to hand. In a leash beside d.i.c.k lay Spot, his favourite Airedale, who could be trusted to give warning of the approach of any intruder, and afterwards to track him remorselessly.

As the leaden moments dragged by it grew darker and darker until the country-side was plunged in pitch blackness. The strain on the watchers was terrific. They could not smoke or talk, they hardly dared to move.

Hour after hour dragged by. Midnight pa.s.sed. d.i.c.k, half asleep, was gently stroking the back of the Airedale.

Suddenly he felt the animal stiffen, and the hair along its back bristled ominously. A moment later the dog gave a low, half-audible growl and rose to its feet. Instantly the party were keenly alert.

d.i.c.k clapped his hand over the dog's muzzle, and the well-trained animal subsided into silence. But d.i.c.k could feel that it was strainingly alert; obviously it sensed an intruder.

Keenly at attention, with every faculty strained to the utmost, the silent watchers heard not a sound. But a few moments later there was a vicious snap in the air above them as the magnesium flash exploded, turning the inky blackness for a fraction of a second into a blaze of dazzling light.

In that brief outburst of radiance the four caught a glimpse of a horror that photographed itself indelibly on their memories.

Twenty-five yards away a b.e.s.t.i.a.l, hideous face loomed out in the glare of light. It was the epitome of all things evil, with wild matted hair, staring eyes and a horrible misshapen mouth drawn back in a snarl which showed two rows of monstrous teeth. The body they could not see.

Apparently the creature was crouching in the heather so that only its ghastly head was visible.

Had it been a wild animal not one of the four, their nerves steel-hardened by the war, would have felt a tremor. But that ghastly face, vile and brutal as it was, was unmistakably human, and for an instant the watchers were paralysed with uncontrollable terror.

But it was only for a moment.

Four revolver shots rang out almost simultaneously, fired in the darkness at the spot where the apparition had appeared. A crackling volley followed as the four automatics were emptied. Almost with the last shot came a howl of mingled rage and pain from the darkness.

Evidently a bullet had got home.

A few moments later d.i.c.k, with Spot barking madly and tugging wildly at his leash, had plunged into the blackness in hot pursuit at the fiendish intruder. Close behind him came Yvette, Jules, and Buckman.

The hunt had begun!

Of that wild dash across country in the darkness d.i.c.k afterwards remembered but little. Spot plunged ahead without hesitation and d.i.c.k followed, intent only on making the best speed possible and careless of constant falls as he stumbled blindly along. He dared not loose the dog, for without it he would have been helpless, and he plunged blindly forward, his reloaded pistol grasped in his right hand, careless of himself and intent only on overtaking the horror which he knew lay somewhere ahead of him. Behind him toiled the others, guided by Spot's frantic barks.

Progress, of course, was slow; falls and stumbles every few moments checked the pace; the darkness was baffling. It was with feelings of intense relief that d.i.c.k at length saw the silvery edge of the moon lifting itself above the hills behind him. He had lost all sense of direction, but the moon rising behind him told him he was travelling westward.

Half an hour later the country was bathed in soft light and d.i.c.k was able to pick up his bearings. Suddenly he realised with a shock that he was heading straight for Lockie!

d.i.c.k halted to let the others come up. Without being afraid he felt instinctively that something terrible lay ahead of them and that for safety's sake it were best that they should be together.

They were a sorry-looking party--hatless, their clothes torn, their faces and hands bruised and scratched by constant falls, almost exhausted by their tremendous efforts. But none of them thought of giving up the chase.

For another mile they pushed onward, making better progress in the growing moonlight.

Suddenly Buckman gave a tremendous shout. "Look there!" he roared, pointing to a low hill which ran across their path.

Not five hundred yards away, on the top of the rise and clearly silhouetted against the sky, they caught a glimpse of a monstrous figure which, even as they looked, vanished over the crest and was gone. It was, unmistakably, a man of giant stature! It moved stiffly as though in pain; evidently one of the shots fired in the trap had got home.

They hurried on. When they reached the crest of the rise Lockie lay before them, and they could see the monstrous figure crossing a tiny stream in the valley below.

They were gaining rapidly now. Dawn was breaking and the cold pale light allowed them a dear view.

The creature ahead of them was toiling painfully up the slope which led to Lockie. Suddenly a man issued from the house. It was Erckmann and in his hand he carried a formidable whip.