The House of Strange Secrets Part 25

"Really, now you come to mention it, I believe I am."

"More than interested?" the lady pursued, stretching out her hand for the marmalade jar.

"Perhaps. Why?"

"Well, I was wondering whether you knew she was already engaged?"

"Engaged! Lena engaged! Impossible! She has--er--practically engaged herself to me, Mrs. Knox."

"Precisely. That is the engagement to which I refer! I merely desired to ascertain whether your intentions were entirely honest."

"I a.s.sure you, Mrs. Knox----"

"Quite so, Mr. Carrington; I understand. I have mentioned the matter to your papa, who leaves it entirely in my hands."

"Really! But don't you think Miss Scott and I are the first persons to be considered?"

"That, my dear boy, is a matter for you to decide between yourselves.

Lena is in the drawing-room. Perhaps you would like to exchange a few words. I will not intrude just yet. As a matter of fact, I have only just begun my breakfast. I have been ailing lately. My appet.i.te is not what it was, but there are one or two things your dear housekeeper has provided to-day which have tempted me to eat."

Laurence withdrew, leaving Mrs. Knox to congratulate herself on being an excellent match-maker. He entered the drawing-room, but was disappointed to find the room empty.

He hurried upstairs to the Squire's bedroom, where he was surprised to see Lena, who had been reading to the old gentleman.

"Father," he cried, "you are safe! He is drowned in the Wizard's Mars.h.!.+"

The Squire darted up in bed.

"Do you mean it? Is this true? How do you know?" he shrieked, clutching his son's arm, and staring into his face with eyes almost starting from their sockets.

"We traced him there. He was chased by the Marquis's bloodhounds. And this--this was found on the brink of the swamp. In trying to escape the hounds he plunged into the marsh, and, followed by them, has gone down into its unfathomable depths."

And he produced the dead man's "noose."

"Then I am safe!" yelled Squire Carrington.

Laurence had barely time to a.s.sure him that such was the case when the door opened and Kingsford appeared.

"A gentleman to see you," he informed the Squire mysteriously.

"Show him in; show him in," replied the old gentleman, to Kingsford's unbounded astonishment. Once he knew that the grim shadow of dread and death no longer enshrouded him, the Squire was something like he had been five-and-twenty years before--the das.h.i.+ng Indian officer, striving his hardest for promotion, so that he might claim for his bride the woman who had now been dead long years.

"Show him in," he said, almost hysterically, wriggling about in his bed until the pains in his neck compelled him to desist.

Kingsford departed, only to return in a couple of minutes, throw open the door, and announce in strident tones a name that caused the three occupants of the room to stare with unbounded astonishment in the direction of the doorway.

"Sir Bromley Lestrange," he said.

And, with light tread, there stepped into the room--"Doctor Orlando Meadows," alias "Major Jones-Farnell!"

CHAPTER x.x.xIV

SOLVING THE MYSTERY

At the sight of the master of Durley Dene, Squire Carrington seemed dumfounded. At first he looked as though he fancied the new-comer would suddenly vanish into air.

"Good-afternoon, Major Carrington," remarked the visitor, with the utmost coolness; "you seem surprised to see me."

"Good heavens, Lestrange, I thought you were dead!"

"So did the whole world, and does now," responded the owner of the Dene.

So saying, he walked up to the bedside, and shook hands heartily with the Squire.

"Who'd have thought we should have met under these circ.u.mstances?"

observed Sir Bromley.

"Ay, sir, in the hour of my joy. You are very welcome."

"Then he is dead? I congratulate you, Carrington, from the bottom of my heart."

He turned to Lena and bowed, shook hands with Laurence, then took a seat by his old friend's bedside.

"Lestrange," said Mr. Carrington, "you look younger than you did twenty-five years ago."

"And I feel it now, though I didn't when these young people were trying to corner me, connecting me for some reason or other with these attempts on your life. So the--you know--is dead?"

And, without hesitation, the Squire, prompted where necessary by Lena and Laurence, commenced to relate the whole story of his career since he had left India, never stopping until he was able to announce that his merciless enemy was dead.

Laurence and the girl had heard the whole story before, except that part of it concerning the second attempt to murder the old gentleman. It appeared that the Squire was undressing on the eventful night, when, turning by chance, he saw the wall suddenly open and a terrible apparition enter. Then he fainted, and knew no more until he found Mrs.

Featherston bending over him two days later. This announcement proved that, as Laurence and Lestrange believed, the secret pa.s.sage under the barn led from Durley Dene into the Squire's bedroom.

Afterwards they explored the pa.s.sage, and further proved that such was the case.

The Squire's narrative concluded, Sir Bromley turned to the two young people, and with a smile informed them that the moment had now come when he could reveal his secret.

By this time, though, the Squire was quite tired out by his exertions, and, as he had but little interest in the secrets of Durley Dene, the party withdrew, Sir Bromley bidding his old friend a hearty "au revoir,"

and expressing a hope that he might see the Squire again ere long.

Once seated in the drawing-room, he seemed unwilling to relate the promised story, but, with a little persuasion from Lena, he gave way, and proceeded with a narrative that entirely cleared up the mysteries of the little Yorks.h.i.+re village and its two largest houses.

"I am by no means sure, even now," he began, "whether I am doing right in divulging for your benefit the secret which I have been at such pains to keep unrevealed, and which you have tried so hard to unravel. At any rate, I have promised to tell you the whole story, and I am going to do so. But I must ask you to let it go no farther--never to refer to it even in conversation between yourselves. You promise? That is right.

Then the Princess H---- need have no fear----"

"The Princess H----!" exclaimed Lena.