The Watchers Part 23

CHAPTER XV

THE LOST KEY IS FOUND

It happened in this way. I took d.i.c.k Parmiter with me and sailed across to St. Helen's. We beached the boat on the sand near to the well and quarantine hut, and climbed up eastwards till we came to the hole which Glen's party had dug. The ground sloped away from the church in this direction; and as I stood on the edge of the hole with my face towards the side of the aisle, I could just see over the gra.s.s the broken cusp of the window. It was exactly opposite to me.

It occurred to me, however, that Glen had measured the distance wrong.

So I sent d.i.c.k in the boat across to Tresco to borrow a measure, and while he was away I examined the ground there around; but it was all covered with gra.s.s and bracken, which evidently had not been disturbed. Here and there were bushes of brambles, but, as I was at pains to discover, no search for the cross had been made beneath them.

In the midst of my search d.i.c.k came back to me with a tape measure, and we set to work from the window of the church. The measure was for a few yards, so that when we had run it out to its full length, keeping ever in the straight line, it was necessary to fix some sort of mark in the ground, and start afresh from that; and for a mark I used a big iron key which I had in my pocket. Three chains brought us exactly to the hole which had been dug, and holding the key in my hand, I said:

"They made no mistake. It is plain the plan was carelessly drawn."

And d.i.c.k said to me: "That's the key of our cottage."

I handed it to him to make sure. He turned it over in his hand.

"Yes," said he, "that's the key;" and he added reproachfully, with no doubt a lively recollection of his mother's objurgations: "So you had it all the time."

"I found it this morning, d.i.c.k," said I.

"Where?"

"In the shed on the Castle Down. Now, how the deuce did it get there?

The dead sailormen had no use for keys."

"It's very curious," said d.i.c.k.

"Very curious and freakish," said I, and I sat down on the gra.s.s to think the matter out.

"Let me see, your mother missed it in the morning after I came to Tresco."

"That's three days ago." And I could hardly believe the boy. It seemed to me that months had pa.s.sed. But he was right.

"Yes, three days ago. Your mother missed it in the morning. It is likely, then, that it was taken from the lock of the door the night before."

"That would be the night," said d.i.c.k, suspiciously, "when you tapped on my window."

"The night, in fact, when I first landed on Tresco. Wait a little."

d.i.c.k sat still upon the gra.s.s, and I took the key from his hand into mine. There were many questions which at that moment perplexed me--that hideous experience in Cullen Mayle's bedroom, the rifling of Adam Mayle's grave, the replacing of the plan in it and the disappearance of the cross, and I was in that state of mind when everything new and at all strange presented itself as a possible clue to the mystery. It seemed to me that the key which I held was very much more than a mere rusty iron key of a door that was never locked.

I felt that it was the key to the door of the mystery which baffled me, and that feeling increased in me into a solid conviction as I held it in my hand. I seemed to see the door opening, and opening very slowly. The chamber beyond the door was dark, but my eyes would grow accustomed to the darkness if only I did not turn them aside. As it was, even now I began to see dim, shadowy things which, uncomprehended though they were, struck something of a thrill into my blood, and something of a chill, too.

"The night that I landed upon Tresco," I said, "we crossed the Castle Down, I nearly fell on to the roof of the shed, where all the dead sailormen were screeching in unison."

"Yes!" said d.i.c.k, in a low voice, and I too looked around me to see that we were not overheard. d.i.c.k moved a little nearer to me with an uneasy working of his shoulders.

"Do you remember the woman who pa.s.sed us?" I asked.

"You said it was a woman."

"And it was."

I had the best of reasons to be positive upon, that point. I had scratched my hand in the gorse and I had seen the blood of my scratches the next day on the dress of the woman who had brushed against me as she pa.s.sed. That woman was Helen Mayle. Had she come from the shed? What did she need with the key?

"Is that shed ever used?" I asked.

"Not now."

"Whom does it belong to?"

He nodded over towards Merchant's Rock.

"Then Adam Mayle used it?"

"Cullen Mayle used it."

"Cullen!"

I sprang up to my feet and walked away; and walked back; and walked away again. The shadowy things were indeed becoming visible; my eyes were growing indeed accustomed to the darkness; and, indeed, the door was opening. Should I close, slam it to, lock it again and never open it? For I was afraid.

But if I did shut it and lock it I should come back to it perpetually, I should be perpetually fingering the lock. No; I would open the door wide and see what was within the room. I came back to d.i.c.k.

"What did Cullen Mayle use it for?"

"He was in league with the Brittany smugglers. Brandy, wine, and lace were landed on the beach of a night and carried up to the shed."

"Were they safe there?"

d.i.c.k laughed. Here he was upon firm ground, and he answered with some pride:

"When Cullen Mayle lived here, the collector of customs daren't for his life have landed on Tresco in daylight."

"And at night the dead sailormen kept watch."

"There wasn't a man who would go near the shed."

"So Cullen Mayle would not have needed a key to lock the shed?"

"No, indeed!" and another laugh.

"Could he have needed a key for any other purpose? d.i.c.k, we will go slowly, very slowly," and I sat for some while hesitating with a great fear very cold at my heart. That door was opening fast. Should I push it open, wide? With one bold thrust of the hand I could do it--if I would. But should I see clearly into the room--so clearly that I could not mistake a single thing I saw. No, I would go on, gently forcing the door back, and all the while accustoming my vision to the gloom.

"Has that shed been used since Cullen Mayle was driven away?"

"No."

"You are certain? Oh, be certain, very certain, before you speak."