V
Peters was awakened, the horse stabled and ourselves admitted without arousing another soul. As we came around from the back of the house (we had not entered by the main door), and, candles in hand, passed through the hall, nothing showed as having been disturbed.
“Don’t breathe a word of our suspicions to anyone,” counselled Lorian.
“What are our suspicions?” said I.
“At present,” he replied, “indefinable.”
To-night the distant murmur of the sea proved very soothing, and I slept soundly. I was early afoot, however, but not so early as Lorian. As I passed around the gallery above the hall, on my way to the bathroom, I saw him folding up the tripod of the camera which he had borrowed from Dr. Mason. The morning sun was streaming through the windows.
“Hullo!” Lorian called to me. “I’ve got a splendid negative, I think. Peters is rigging up a dark-room in the wine-cellar—delightful site for the purpose! Will you join me in developing?”
Although I was unable to conjecture what my friend hoped to gain by his photographic experiments, I agreed, prompted as much by curiosity as anything else. So, after my tub, I descended to the cellar and splashed about in Hypo., until Lorian declared himself satisfied.
“The second is the best,” he pronounced critically, holding the negative up to the red lamp. “I made three exposures in all; but the reflection from the polished wood has rather spoiled the first and also the third.”
“Whatever do you want with this photograph, anyway,” I said, “when the original is available?”
“My dear chap,” he replied, “one cannot squat in the hall fixedly regarding a section of panel like some fakir staring at a palm leaf!”
“Then you intend to study it?”
“Closely!”
As a matter of fact, he did not join us during the whole of the day; but since he spent the greater part of the time in his own room, I did not proffer my aid. From a remark dropped by the Colonel, I gathered that Sybil had volunteered to assist, during the afternoon, in preparing prints.
I was one of the first in to tea, and Lorian came racing out to meet me.
“Not a word yet,” he said, “but if the Colonel is agreeable, I shall tell them all at dinner!”
“Tell them what?” I began——
Then I saw Sybil Reynor standing in the shadow of the porch, and, even from that distance, saw her rosy blushes.
I understood.
“Lucky man!” I cried, and wrung his hand warmly. “The very best of good wishes, old chap. I am delighted!”
“So am I!” replied Lorian. “But come and see the print.”
We went into the house together; and Sybil blushed more furiously than ever when I told her how I envied Lorian—and added that he deserved the most beautiful girl in England, and had won her.
Lorian had a very clear print of the photograph pinned up to dry on the side of his window.
“We shall be busy to-night!” he said mysteriously.
He had planned to preserve his great secret until dinner-time; but, of course, it came out whilst we sat over tea on the balcony. The Colonel was unfeignedly delighted, and there is nothing secretive about Colonel Reynor. Consequently, five minutes after he had been informed how matters were between his daughter and Lorian, all the house knew.
I studied the face of Hulme, to see how he would take the news. But he retained a perfect mastery of himself, though his large dark eyes gleamed at discord with the smile which he wore.
Our photographic experiments were forgotten; and throughout dinner, whereat Sybil looked exquisitely lovely and very shy, and Lorian preserved an unruffled countenance, other topics ruled.
It was late before we found ourselves alone in Lorian’s room, with the print spread upon the table beneath the light of the shaded lamp.
We bent over it.
“Now,” said Lorian, “I assume that this is some kind of cipher!”
I stared at him surprisedly.
“And,” he continued, “you and I are going to solve it if we sit up all night!”
“How do you propose to begin?”
“Well, as it appears to mean nothing in particular, as it stands, I thought of beginning by assuming that the letters have other values altogether. Therefore, upon the basis that e is the letter which most frequently occurs in English, with a, o, i, d, h, n, r, afterwards, I had thought of resolving it into its component letters.”
“But would that rule apply to mediæval English?”
“Ah,” said Lorian thoughtfully, “most sage counsellor! A wise and timely thought! I’m afraid it wouldn’t.”
“What now?”
Lorian scratched his head in perplexity.
“Suppose,” he suggested, “we write down the words plainly, and see if, treating each one separately, we can find other meanings to them.”
Accordingly, upon a sheet of paper, I wrote:
Wherso eer thee doome bee
Looke untoe ye strypped tree
Offe ragged staffe. Upon itte ley
Golde toe greene ande kay toe kay.
Our efforts in the proposed direction were rewarded with poor success. Some gibberish even less intelligible than the original was the only result of our labour.
Lorian threw down his pencil and began to reload his pipe.
“Let us consider possible meanings to the original words,” he said. “Do you know of anything in the neighbourhood which might answer to the description of a ‘strypped tree’?”
I shook my head.
“What has occasioned your sudden interest in the thing?” I asked wearily.
“It is a long story,” he replied; “and I have an idea that there’s no time to be lost in solving the Riddle!”
However, even Lorian’s enthusiasm flagged at last. We were forced to admit ourselves hopelessly beaten by the Riddle. I went to my own room feeling thoroughly tired. But I was not destined to sleep long. A few minutes after closing my eyes (or so it seemed), came a clamouring at the door.
I stumbled sleepily out of bed, and, slipping on my dressing-gown, admitted Lorian. Colonel Reynor stood immediately behind him.
“Most extraordinary business!” began the latter breathlessly. “Sybil had—you tell him, Harry!”
“Well,” said Lorian, “it is not unexpected! Listen: Sybil woke up a while ago, with the idea that she had forgotten something or lost something—you know the frame of mind! She went to her dressing-table and found the family ring missing!”
“The ring!” burst in the Colonel excitedly. “Amazing!”
“She remembered having taken it off, during the evening, to—er—to put another one on! But she was unable to recall having replaced it. She determined to run down and see if she had left it upon the seat in the corner of the library. Well, she went downstairs in her dressing-gown, and, carrying a candle, very quietly, in order to wake no one, crossed to the library and searched unavailingly. She heard a faint noise outside in the hall.”
Lorian paused. Felix Hulme had joined the party.
“What’s the disturbance?” he asked.
“Oh,” said Lorian, turning to him, “it’s about Sybil. She was down in the library a while ago to look for something, and heard a sort of grating sound out in the hall. She came out, and almost fell over an iron-bound chest, about a foot and a half long, which stood near the bottom of the staircase!”
“Good heavens, Lorian!” I cried, “how had it come there?”
“Sybil says,” he resumed, “that she could not believe her eyes. She stooped to examine the thing ... and with a thrill of horror saw it to be roughly marked with a skull and cross-bones!”
“My dear Lorian,” said Hulme, “are you certain that Miss Reynor was awake?”
“She woke us quickly enough!” interrupted the Colonel. “Poor girl, she was shaking dreadfully. Thought it was a supernatural appearance. She’s with her mother now.”
“But the box!” I cried. “Where is the box?”
“That’s the mystery,” answered Colonel Reynor. “I was downstairs two minutes later, and there was nothing of the kind to be seen! Has our Ragstaff ghost started walking again, I wonder? You ought to know, Hulme; you’re in the Turret Room—that is the authentic haunted chamber!”
“I was aroused by the bell ringing,” replied Hulme. “I am a very light sleeper. But I heard or saw nothing supernatural.”
“By the way, Hulme,” said my friend, “the Turret Room is directly above the hall. I have a theory. Might I come up with you for a moment?”
“Certainly,” replied Hulme.
We all went up to the Turret Room. Having climbed the stairs to this apartment, you enter it by descending three steps. It is octagonal and panelled all around. My friend tapped the panels and sounded all the oaken floor-boards. Then, professing himself satisfied, he bade Hulme good night, and accompanied me to my room.