The Lone Inn: A Mystery

by Fergus Hume

"That he did, sir. He rode there two nights over a week ago."

"Curious," said I, with assumed carelessness; "it is not an attractive place. I dare say he only rode a little way out of the town."

"No, sir," said Fundy decisively, "he went to the Fen Inn! He told me so himself, as I noticed the horse was so done up. Look here," added Fundy, opening his day-book, "see, on the 10th of June he had a horse, and on the 11th. Both at night, and did not return till midnight."

I mounted my horse and rode away, thinking deeply. If Felix had gone to the Fen Inn on the 10th, then I felt sure that he had actually murdered his brother. Hitherto I had believed Strent was the guilty party, but now, thanks to the evidence of Fundy, I saw that Felix had committed the crime. He had also ridden to the inn again on the 11th in order to conceal the body. Merrick's theory was thus proved to be correct. Link by link I was putting the chain together. I had proved that Francis had not arrived in England till the 6th of June, and so made certain of the identity of Felix. I had discovered that Felix was at the inn on the fatal night, and also that he had concealed the body. Now I wished to discover how the murder was committed.

The Fen Inn was quite deserted, and as evil-looking as ever. In spite of my searching I discovered no signs of the dead body of my friend. The clothes which I had seen folded on the chair beside the bed were also gone, and there was not the slightest thing left to excite suspicion.

"He must have hidden the body in the marshes," I thought, after a vain search; "I'll see if he has left a trail."

Struck by the feasibility of this idea, I went out at the front door and examined the ground. It was moist and muddy, owing to the incessant percolation of marshy water. The path leading from Marshminster was marked confusedly with horses' hoofs, so it was quite useless to look for a trail in that direction. Looking from the door of the inn, the path trended to the right; but on the left, where there was no path, I noticed hoof marks, also that the lush grass was trodden down.

"Here is the trail," said I, mounting my horse; "he took the body to the left."

Following the trail carefully,--and it was plainly discernible, owing to the dampness of the ground,--I rode straight out for some considerable distance. The spongy marsh jetted black water under the feet of the horse, and it seemed as though I were in danger of being bogged. Nevertheless, as the trail still continued in front of me, I followed it. Where Felix could go I could follow. He had evidently placed the body of his brother across his saddle and ridden with it in this direction; I wondered at the nerve of the scoundrel.

Unexpectedly the trail turned off at right angles, and led toward a broad pond of water, slimy and sullen in appearance. On the verge of this the track ceased, and then I knew that I saw before me the tomb of Francis Briarfield. Into those black waters the murderer had hurled his victim, and doubtless if the pool were dragged the body would be found. This I determined to do before taking further steps in the matter.