THE MYSTERY OF THE MANSE BARN
"By all that's wonderful," cried Laurence to Lena after the solemn mid-day meal was at an end, "if I haven't forgotten about the clue Mr. Oliver Potter so generously gave me! Let me think—he said if I went to the cupboard in the Squire's bedroom I should find a cardboard box containing something which would prove of use in our investigation. If you will wait here for half a minute (I know you will excuse me) I will fetch the box, and we will pry into its mysterious contents."
He left the dining-room, returning, however, a few moments later with a yellow collar-box. From this he permitted Lena to remove the lid. The girl gave a cry of dismay when she caught sight of the unpleasant contents of the box. The odour that arose from the carcase of the bat which the detective had so carefully preserved was none too pleasant, while to a woman the sight of anything so closely resembling a mouse as does a bat is usually enough to cause an exclamation of horror.
Laurence was much annoyed when he perceived the clue which Potter had left behind him.
"It's his pretty revenge for his dismissal," he said. "An extremely poor practical joke, which I am surprised that a man of Potter's age should descend to. Here, let me throw it away."
And he suited the action to the word by flinging the little carcase out of the open window and into the middle of a cluster of bushes.
"Now for the barn," Laurence proceeded. "Shall we make our examination of it at once, as Meadows suggested?"
"I am quite ready, if you are," replied Lena.
"Then let us go at once, before something else arises to cause us to forget what we were about to do, as something has done so many times before during this investigation."
A few minutes later they were both in the barn, tapping the panels of the wall and the floor and searching among the hay for some sign of the secret hiding-place, in which, according to Doctor Meadows' reasoning, the Squire's enemy was lurking.
Search as they might, though, no success rewarded their praiseworthy efforts. An hour passed, yet they still persevered, though Lena was hot and tired with stooping. Laurence had made the most minute examination of the roof, yet he had to confess himself beaten.
"I cannot understand it," he said. "It didn't take me half a minute, or anything like so long, to knock the hay which the rascal threw at me out of my eyes, yet in that short space of time our man managed, aided by the darkness, of course, to effect his escape. The question is, how?"
"Come, we mustn't be beaten. The secret trap-door, or whatever it is, must be somewhere in the roof. Try again, and instead of only tapping the wood, press it hard occasionally."
Laurence did as he was told. He reached the cross-beam on which the creature with the shrill voice had been discovered, and from there, by means of the ladder, reached the beam at the top of the building (which formed, with the point made by the meeting of the ascending sides of the thatched roof, a large letter A).
Here, as will be easily understood, the young man had to sit (on the cross-bar of the A) with head bent down owing to the proximity of the actual roof.
Once, however, while talking to Lena, who was standing immediately below him, he raised his head, forgetting that he was unable to do so without striking it against the top. Then a strange thing happened.
The force of his pressure on the side of the roof caused it to roll back suddenly like a trap-door. It fell back, until a roomy space was revealed immediately above Laurence's head. And yet, looking through, young Carrington was astounded beyond measure to find that he couldn't (as might have been expected) gaze straight up at the blue sky, but what he saw several feet above him was a second thatched roof shaped exactly like that under which he had been sitting!
Then, in an instant, he knew the secret of the Manse barn. The roof was a double one, its mechanism being exactly similar to that of the double-bottomed boxes that for so long were the means of cheating our Custom-House officials of the duties payable upon articles which were by this means smuggled into the country free of tax.
Laurence informed Lena in low tones of his discovery, and, promising to return in a minute or two, raised himself by his arms to a ledge which presented itself immediately above him. No sooner had he done so than the sham roof closed down noiselessly, and young Carrington found himself in a long, low room or attic, unfurnished, and with apparently the dust of ages upon its panelled walls, its thatched roof (the real roof of the barn), and its uneven flooring.
In the excitement of the moment Laurence paid no attention to the closing of the trap-door.
Thanks to a ray of light that stole through a rent in the straw thatch, he was able to look around him.
The room he was in was the exact size of the barn itself, only, owing to the low ceiling, its size seemed greater than it actually was.
Taking his match-box from his pocket, the young man struck a light, held it above his head, being careful not to ignite the dry straw of the roof, and gazed around.
He was able to assure himself that no one was hiding in the attic—in fact, there was no room for anything larger than a rat to hide. This, at any rate, was satisfactory. The feeble light also satisfied the investigator on another point.
Though the mysterious creature whom he had encountered by night below where he now stood was not at that moment concealed in this carefully hidden lair, there were unmistakable signs of him in a number of foot-shaped patches in the dust accumulated on the floor. Laurence noted with a feeling of delight that these patches were, in size and shape, identical with those he had discovered to be the footprints of the "cyclist highwayman."
Very quickly, after he had extinguished the match, did Laurence's eyes become accustomed to the semi-darkness, and he was able to prosecute his search without the assistance of any light.
Another startling discovery was in wait for him. In a far corner of the attic there was a trap-door in the floor, in the manufacture of which no attempt had been made to conceal it from view, as in the case of the false roof. An iron ring was conveniently placed at one side of this, and, in a state of excited expectancy, Laurence without difficulty raised the trap-door, which revealed (as does the inevitable trap-door in children's fairy tales) a narrow staircase, dark and dismal.
Without hesitation, and carefully groping his way, he started down the staircase, which was so narrow and small that in places he was compelled to move down sideways and stooping almost double. In such a place, he thought to himself, height is a distinct disadvantage; yet, in spite of all, and though he considered it extremely possible that he might at any moment run against his father's lurking enemy, he pushed on downstairs until the bottom was reached.
He dared not strike a match, for fear that, if anyone was hiding near, he might lie in wait for the new-comer, and, knowing the place better than Laurence, overcome him without difficulty.
Where was he, and what did all these secret places mean? Only one solution was possible. The barn, in addition to having a false roof, had also a sham side to it, and there was sufficient space between the outer side and the panelled inner one for the staircase down which he had come, and which led to—where?