The Haunting of Low Fennel Part 17

"But what _is_ the secret of the Riddle?"

"In my opinion the Riddle is a clue to another hiding-place, evidently not connected with the maze of pa.s.sages; possibly what is known as a Priest's Hole. As you know, Hulme asked Sybil to marry him. I believe the man to be in financial straits; so that we must further a.s.sume the Riddle to conceal the whereabouts of a treasure, since the Reynors are far from wealthy."

"The _chest_! Lorian! The chest!" I cried.

"Quite so. But what immediately preceded its appearance? The loss of the family ring! If I am not greatly in error, Hulme found that ring! And the ring is the key to the riddle! Do you recall the shape of the bezel?

Simply _a square peg of gold_! Look at the photograph!"

He was excited, for once.

"What does it say?" he continued: "'Ye strypped tree!' That means the device of leaves, twigs, and acorns--stripped _from_ a tree--see? Here, at the bottom of the panel, is such a group, and (this is where we have been so blind!) intertwined with the design is the word _CAEG_--Ancient Saxon for _key_! Look! 'Golde toe Greene and kay toe kay'! Amongst the _green_ leaves is a square hole. The _gold_ k.n.o.b on the ring fits it!"

For a moment I was too greatly surprised for speech. Then:

"You think Hulme discovered this?"

"I do. And I think Sybil's mislaying her ring gave him his big chance.

He had got the chest out whilst she was in the library. He must have been inside somewhere looking for it when she pa.s.sed through the hall.

Then, hearing her approach from the library, he was forced to abandon his heavy 'find' and hide in the secret pa.s.sage which communicates with his room. Directly she ran upstairs he returned for the chest!"

I looked him hard in the face.

"We don't want a scene, Lorian," I began. "Besides, it's just possible you may be wrong."

"I agree," said Lorian. "Come up to his room, now."

Pa.s.sing quietly upstairs, we paused before the door of the Turret Room.

A faint light showed under it. Lorian glanced at me--then knocked.

"Who's there?" came sharply.

"Lorian," answered my friend. "I want a chat with you about the secret pa.s.sage and the old treasure chest--_before speaking to the Colonel_!"

There was a long silence, then:

"Just a moment," came hoa.r.s.ely. "Don't come in until I call."

We looked at one another doubtfully. A long minute pa.s.sed. I could hear a faint sound within. At last came Hulme's voice:

"All right. Come in."

As Lorian threw the door open, a faint _click_ sounded from somewhere.

The Turret Room was empty!

"By heaven! he's given us the slip!" cried my friend.

We glanced around the room. A candle burnt upon the table. And upon the bed stood an iron-barred chest, with a sheet of notepaper lying on its lid!

Lorian pounced upon the note. We read it together.

"Mr. Henry Lorian" (it went), "I realize that you have found me out. I will confess that I had no time to open the chest. But as matters stand I only ask you not to pursue me. I have taken nothing not my own. The ring, and an interesting doc.u.ment which I picked up some years ago, are on the table. Offer what explanation of my disappearance you please. I am in your hands."

We turned again to the table. Upon a piece of worn parchment lay the missing ring. Lorian spread out the parchment and bent over it.

"Why," I cried, "it is a plan of Ragstaff Park!"

"With a perfect network of secret pa.s.sages!" added my friend, "and some instructions, apparently, as to how to enter them. It bears the initials 'R. R.' and, in brackets, 'Capt. S.' I begin to understand."

He raised the candle and stepped across to the ancient chest. It bore a roughly designed skull and cross-bones, and, in nearly defaced red characters, the words:

"_CAPTAIN SATAN_."

"Captain Satan!" I said. "He was one of the most bloodthirsty pirates who ever harried the Spanish Main!"

"He was," agreed Lorian; "and his real name was Roderick Reynor. He evidently solved the riddle some generations earlier than Hulme--and stored his bloodstained h.o.a.rd in the ancient hiding-place. Also, you see, he knew about the pa.s.sages."

"What shall we do?"

"Hulme has surrendered. You can see that the chest has not been opened.

Therefore there is only one thing that we _can_ do. We must keep what we know to ourselves, return the chest to its hiding-place, and proclaim that we have found the missing ring!"

Down to the hall we bore the heavy chest. The square k.n.o.b on the ring fitted, as Lorian had predicted, into the hole half hidden among the oak leaves of the design. Without much difficulty we forced back the fastening (it proved to be of a very simple pattern), and slid the whole panel aside. A small, square chamber was revealed by the light of the candle--quite empty.

"As I had surmised," said my friend; "a Priest's Hole."

We carried the chest within, and reclosed the panel, which came to with a sharp _click_.

The story which we invented to account for Hulme's sudden departure pa.s.sed muster; for one topic usurped the interests of all--the ghostly box, with its piratical emblem.

"My boy," Colonel Reynor said to Lorian, "I cannot pretend to explain what Sybil saw. But it bears curiously upon a certain black page in the family history. If the chest had been tangible, and had contained a fortune, I would not have opened it. Let all pertaining to that part of our records remain buried, say I."

"Which determines our course," explained Lorian to me. "The chest is not ours, and the Colonel evidently would rather not know about it. I regret that I lack the morals of a burglar."

The Master of Hollow Grange

I

Jack Dillon came to Hollow Grange on a thunderous black evening when an ebony cloud crested the hill-top above, and, catching the upflung rays of sunset, glowed redly like the pall of Avalon in the torchlight.

Through the dense ranks of firs cloaking the slopes a breeze, presaging the coming storm, whispered evilly, and here in the hollow the birds were still.

The man who had driven him from the station glanced at him, with a curiosity thinly veiled.