Witness to the Deed Part 78

Stratton laughed bitterly.

"Don't be afraid, old fellow," he said. "I shall not try to murder him this time."

"My dear Malcolm!" cried the old man reproachfully.

"Well," said Stratton, smiling sadly; "if you did not exactly think that, you had some hazy notions of its being unsafe to leave me with my incubus."

"I--that is--" faltered Brettison weakly.

"There, say no more. He's safe with me. I shall not try to buy her freedom at such a cost. You know that."

"At nine o'clock, then," said Brettison hastily. "You are sure you will not mind being left with him?"

"Mind?" said Stratton with a smile. "Yes, I mind it, but it is our duty, old fellow; and we are going to do that duty to the end."

He wrung his old friend's hand as he saw him off, and then, with a complete change coming over his countenance, he carefully locked the door, placed the inner key in his pocket, and walked steadily across to where his unwelcome visitor lay back in his seat, with his hand still playing furtively about the red scar behind his ear. His eyes stared in a leaden way at the rich carpet; and, as Stratton followed them he shuddered, and the whole scene of that terrible night came back, for the eyes were fixed upon a stain only partly obliterated, and it was there where his head had lain after he received the shot.

A peculiar sense of shrinking ran through Stratton as he saw himself again pa.s.sing through the struggle and dragging the man into the bath-closet, while once more he had to fight with the feelings of dread of detection, and recalled how he had argued with himself, upon the necessity for hiding away the wretch whose existence had been as a blight on Myra's young life, and who, dead, was the great bar to their future happiness.

"And," he muttered aloud with a bitter sigh, "living--as great a barrier still."

"If he would but die," something seemed to say; "and free her."

But he shook his head directly.

"A vain hope," he said--"a vain hope."

He shuddered and clenched his hands, closing his eyes directly after, for a maddening, horrible feeling of temptation had come over him. They were alone in that solitary room--he with this wretch whose existence in his sane moments was a curse; and who now, as he lay back there feeble, vacuous, existing only in body, not in mind, was a mere blot upon the earth, less worthy of the s.p.a.ce he occupied than the vilest animal cla.s.sed as vermin, and which man crushed out of his way without compunction, without a second thought. What sin would it be to quench the flickering life before him? He must give up all hope of ever clasping Myra to his heart, as he had given it up before, and suffer as he had suffered then; but she would be free. There would never then be any possibility of her coming face to face with this horror. And it would be so easy! One firm grasp of his nervous fingers, and the feeble beating of the miserable wretch's arteries would cease.

And after?

Brettison would return and find that his preparations had been vain-- that the man was lying back there in his chair--dead from a fit--the precarious life had come to an end, as might have been foretold after such a seizure--such a stroke. And it would be so easy--so easy.

Stratton opened his eyes and stood gazing down at the vacant face with the lids half-closed now, and remained there as if fascinated, unable to drag himself away till, with one vigorous wrench, he turned and literally rushed into his chamber to prepare for the journey.

He was absent about half an hour before he returned to make a few more preparations there.

He went about the room opening cabinet and case to find money and other necessaries for his journey, busying himself, and taking care not to let his eyes rest for a moment on the figure sitting back in the chair and uneasily moving from time to time.

"He is safe with me--safe with me," Stratton muttered as he went to and from his bedroom. "What thoughts will force themselves into a man's head at times!"

The hours had glided by till it had grown quite dark, and still he was busy for the sake of occupying himself. But at last he could see to do no more, and he went softly to a drawer to get out matches and light his lamp.

The drawer creaked as he pulled it out, and deadened a sound behind him as of one softly rising from a chair, and a piece of stone--a large fossil--grated as it was taken from the mantelpiece; but, rapt in thought, Stratton did not hear it as he opened the box, took out and struck a match, which flashed, and threw a bluish, ghastly light upon a hideous face, with beside it an arm raised to strike.

The next minute there was a crash and a heavy fall.

It was about half an hour later that Brettison ascended the staircase, and as he reached the landing there was a puffing and panting behind him.

"It is you, then, Mr Brettison," cried Mrs Brade joyfully; "I thought it was you as you pa.s.sed the lodge, and I am glad, sir. We began to think you must be dead and gone. Now do let me come and tidy up your room, sir, and make you a cup of tea."

"No, no," said Brettison. "I am going in here. Mr Stratton and I are leaving town."

"Mr Stratton has gone, sir. Leastwise not at home."

"What!"

"Mr Guest was here a quarter of an hour ago, and said he'd been here once before. He couldn't make no one hear."

"Something has happened then," said Brettison to himself, and a thrill of horror ran through his frame.

CHAPTER FORTY NINE.

A PLACE OF REST.

"Well, if ever two strange gentlemen did live in inns it's Mr Stratton and Mr Brettison," said Mrs Brade as she reluctantly went back to her lodge. "Nice state their rooms must be in; and him, once so civil and polite, as awkward and gruff as you please."

She had some cause for complaint, Brettison having dismissed her with a request not to talk quite so much.

In spite of the woman's declaration of Stratton's absence, the old man felt that he must be there; and after knocking twice, each time with his heart sinking more and more with dread, he applied his lips to the letter-box after forcing open the spring flap.

"Stratton, if you are there, for Heaven's sake open at once!" he whispered loudly.

There was a rustling sound directly, the bolt was shot back, and Stratton admitted him, afterward taking a letter from the box, glancing at it, and thrusting it into his pocket.

"That woman said you had gone out," said Brettison eagerly. "I was alarmed. I thought--how is he?"

Stratton pointed to the chair where the man lay as if asleep.

"Why, how haggard you look," said Brettison excitedly. "Has there been anything the matter?"

"Nothing much; only I have had a struggle with a madman who tried to murder me."

"My dear boy!"

"It is a fact," said Stratton. "I found him with that piece of rock in his hand, and about to strike me down."

He pointed to the ma.s.sive stone lying on the table, and then said, smiling:

"I was just in time to save myself."

"Good Heavens! Was he dangerous for long?"

"For long enough. We had a short struggle, and he went down with a crash. One moment he was tremendously strong; the next helpless as a child, and he has been like that ever since. Our plans must be altered."

"No, not now," said Brettison decisively. "The man has been over-excited to-day. Your presence seems to have roused up feelings that have been asleep. I ought not to have left you alone with him.

Come, it is getting late. We have very few minutes to spare."