Witness to the Deed Part 53

"I can't tell you, Mrs Brade."

"Then can you tell me where Mr Brettison is, sir?"

"That's two questions, Mrs Brade."

"Well, yes, sir, it is; but if you only knew the agony I suffer from the thought of those two sets of chambers being allowed to go to rack and ruin, you'd pity me."

"Well, it does seem tiresome to any lady of orderly mind, of course."

"It's 'orrid, sir. There's the dust, and the soot falling down the chimbleys without a bit of fire, and the mice, and, for aught I know, the rats. Really, sir, there are times when I almost wish the chambers was empty, that I do."

"Well, have patience, Mrs Brade," said Guest. "I think I can see an improvement in Mr Stratton, and I hope soon to get him to come back-- but I don't know when it's likely to be," he muttered as he crossed the square on the chance of seeing a light in his friend's window, and this time it was there.

He hurried up to find, after knocking several times, that Stratton had evidently only just come, for he was standing there in overcoat and hat, and he would have stepped out at once had not Guest shown so decided an intention of coming in.

"Do you want me?" said Stratton uneasily; and Guest's heart sank, for his friend looked more careworn than ever.

"Yes," he said; "I wanted to talk to you about something particular."

"Yes--what?" said Stratton sharply.

"Surely you were not coming away, and about to leave that lamp burning?"

"Was I going to leave the lamp burning?" said Stratton absently. "I suppose I forgot."

"Well, don't do that, then. This house is so full of wood that if it caught fire it would burn like tinder."

"You think so?" said Stratton with a curious look in his eyes.

"That I do. In half an hour there wouldn't be one of your preparations left. They, your furniture, the _bric-a-brac_, and your specimens in spirits, would be consumed and in ashes in no time."

The strange look in Stratton's eyes intensified, but Guest did not notice it, nor yet that his companion was letting his eyes wander around the old carved panelling with its oaken architraves and heavy plinths and mouldings.

For Guest was intent upon his own thoughts.

"Look here," he said suddenly; "about Brettison?"

Stratton turned upon him uneasily.

"This is a rum world, Mal, old fellow."

"What do you mean?" said Stratton.

"Only this: Brettison's rich--a man worth a good deal, and men of that stamp generally have people who take a good deal of notice of them."

"Naturally," said Stratton, with a curious laugh.

"Suppose, then, he has come to grief. I mean, suppose some gang have got hold of him on his way back here and made an end of him."

"Absurd!" said Stratton, with a curious laugh. "Nonsense!"

"Such things have been done. When did he go out?"

"I do not know."

"Don't be huffy with your devoted servant, Mal. Tell me this--has he been back since--er--that day?"

"Perhaps. I don't know. He is a man who goes in and out as silently as a cat."

"But he used to come in and see you often?"

Stratton coughed to clear a huskiness from his throat.

"Yes; but he has not been to see me lately," he said hurriedly. "I am going home now."

"This is home, man."

Stratton suppressed a shudder, and Guest pitied him as he thought of two attempts made upon his life.

"It is too gloomy--too depressing for me."

"Give up the chambers, then, and take some more pleasant ones."

"No, no; I should not care about the trouble of moving. I am used to them, too."

He laid his hand upon the lamp, and Guest was obliged to take the hint and rise to go.

"That's right," he said; "put the lamp out safe. This is an ugly old place, but it would be horrible if the place were burned down."

"Yes--horrible--horrible!" said Stratton, with a shudder.

"Much more horrible if anyone slept in the place, eh?"

"If anybody slept in the place?" said Stratton with a ghastly look.

"Yes--lodgers. There is somebody upstairs on the second floor, isn't there?"

"Yes," said Stratton huskily, "but only in the day time." He withdrew his hand from the lamp, and looked round, to Guest's great delight; for he was taking an evident interest in the topic his friend had started, and his eyes roved from object to object in the room.

"Work of a good many years' saving and collecting here, old chap, eh?"

"Yes; of many, many years," said Stratton thoughtfully.

"And all your bits of antique furniture, too. Mustn't have a fire here, old fellow. I say," he continued, tapping a gla.s.s jar in which a kind of lizard was suspended in spirits, "I suppose if this grew hot the stopper would be blown out, and the spirit would blaze all over the floor in a moment?"

Stratton's eyes contracted strangely as he nodded and watched his friend.

"Yes," he said, "that is so."