Witness to the Deed Part 60

"That's the old door leading into the place, I suppose, sir?" he said.

"Yes."

Guest started again, the voice sounded so strange, but he was gaining courage, for there was the familiar dark bathroom, viewed from the other end, with the cigar box on the shelf close to the door in company with the spirit-stand. Beneath the shelf there were three large four-gallon tins, which were unfamiliar, and suggested petroleum or crystal oil; there was a mackintosh hung on a peg, looking very suggestive; an alpenstock in a corner, with a salmon and trout rod. Guest saw all this at a glance, and his spirits rose, for there was no ghastly scene upon which to gaze.

Then his spirits sank to zero again, for there was the oblong of the inclosed bath occupying the left of the long, narrow place, and only just leaving room for anyone to pa.s.s.

He shuddered, and at that moment the sergeant took hold of the edge of the mahogany lid to raise it, but without success.

"Fast," muttered the latter; and he held the light to the glistening French-polished mahogany cover, looking from place to place. "Here you are, Jem," he said, in a low tone; "four more screws, and only just put in."

The other man uttered a low growl, and entered with his screw-driver; moistened his hands and the tool creaked on the top of a screw, and then entered the cross slit with a loud snap. The next minute the first screw was being withdrawn.

"Pretty badly put in," said the man. "Didn't have a carpenter here."

He worked away, making the old place vibrate a little with his efforts, and to Guest the whole business was horribly suggestive of taking off the lid from a coffin; but he was firmer now, as he stood behind Stratton, who drew a deep breath, now and then like a heavy sigh, but neither stirred from his position by the door they had entered, nor spoke.

All at once there was a sharp rap on the lid of the bath, which acted like a sounding-board, and the man at work started back in alarm.

"All right, Jem," said the sergeant; "you jarred it down from the shelf."

As he spoke he s.n.a.t.c.hed up what he evidently looked upon as evidence; for it was a large gimlet, evidently quite new, and its long spiral glistened in the light of the lantern.

"Thought somebody throwed it," growled the man, as he resumed his task of withdrawing the screws till the last was out, and placed close to the bath, on the floor.

"Sure that's all?" said the sergeant.

The man ran his finger along the edge of the bath lid, uttered a grunt, and drew back toward the door by which he had entered.

"Lift up the lid, man--lift up the lid," said the sergeant, directing the lantern so that the grain of the new-looking wood glistened and seemed full of golden and ruddy brown depths of shadow, among which the light seemed to play.

"Do you hear?" he said. "Lift up the lid."

The man made no answer, but ran his hand over his moist forehead, and still backed toward the door, where Stratton and Guest were standing.

Then, as they drew aside to let him pa.s.s:

"Precious hot in there," he growled.

"Look here, Jem," said the sergeant; "don't leave a fellow in the lurch.

Come on."

Thus adjured, the man turned back and held out his hand.

"It ain't my work," he said in a hoa.r.s.e whisper; "I've done my bit. But I'll hold the light for you, if you like."

The sergeant pa.s.sed the lantern to his companion, who took it, and so reversed its position, the rays from the bull's-eye being directed toward the sergeant, and, consequently, Stratton and Guest were in the shadow, out of which the latter peered forward with his heart beating violently, and as he leaned forward he touched Stratton's arm.

He shuddered and shrank back, being conscious that Stratton grasped the reason, for a low sigh escaped him; but he did not stir, and, in spite of his feeling of repulsion, Guest felt compelled to press forward again to witness the horror about to be unveiled.

"Turn the light more down," whispered the sergeant; and, in spite of the low tone in which they were uttered, the words sounded loudly in Guest's ears.

"Now for it," muttered the officer; and, as if forcing himself to act, he flung up the bath lid so that it struck against the panelled side of the place with a sharp rap, and set free a quant.i.ty of loose plaster and brickwork to fall behind the wainscot with a peculiar, rustling sound that sent a shudder through the lookers-on.

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT.

THE BLIND LEAD.

As that horrible, rustling sound behind the wainscot was heard, the two hardened men in the old pa.s.sage shrank away to door and end, while a cold sweat bedewed Guest's face, and his breath felt laboured. Then there was a reaction. Old memories flashed through his brain, and he seized Stratton's arm.

"Old friends," he muttered. "I can't forsake him now."

The arm he gripped felt rigid and cold, but Stratton made no movement, no sign, and at that moment they saw the sergeant flash the light down into the sarcophagus-like receptacle; for, thanks to the manufacturers, our baths are made as suggestive of a man's last resting-place as they can be designed.

There was utter silence then for a moment. Then the sergeant uttered a low whistle and exclaimed:

"Well, I _am_ blessed!"

"Ain't he there?" said the workman, from the door.

"Come and look, Jem."

Jem went in slowly, looked down in the bath, which was lit up by the rays from the lantern, and then uttered a low, chuckling sound, while Guest tried to make out the meaning of the strange expression, dimly seen, on his friend's face.

For Stratton's eyes showed white circles about the irises, as he now leaned forward to gaze into the bath.

Guest was the last to look into the white enamelled vessel, one-third full of what seemed to be water, but from the peculiar odour which rose from the surface, evidently was not.

Stratton was silent; and in the strange exultation he felt on seeing that all the horrors he had imagined were vain and empty, Guest shouted:

"Bah! What c.o.c.k-and-bull stories you policemen hatch!"

The sergeant, who had been regularly taken aback, recovered himself at this.

"Come, sir," he cried; "I like that. You come to us and say your friend's missing, and you think that he is lying dead in his chambers.

'All right,' we say--"

"Wrong," cried Guest with a laugh, which sounded strange and forced.

"So it is, sir--wrong," said the sergeant. "We come and do our duty, and I follow up the scent as clear as clear, right up to this spot; and I put it to you gents, as gentlemen, oughtn't your friend to have been murdered and a-lying there?"

"Well," said Guest, with another forced laugh, as he glanced uneasily at Stratton; "it did look suspicious, and you worked it all up so theatrically that I was a little impressed."

"Theatrical! Impressed, sir! Why, it was all as real to me; and I say again your friend ought to be lying there. What do you say, Jem?"

"Cert'nly."

"But he is not," said Guest sharply; "and it has all been a false alarm, you see, and I'm very, very glad."