[CHAPTER XVII]
UNEXPECTED EVIDENCE
The surprising discovery that the bullet was of silver, elevated the crime from the common-place to the romantic. That an old-fashioned weapon should have been used in these days when firearms have reached such a pitch of perfection, was remarkable enough, but that the assassin should have reverted to the superstitions of the Middle Ages for his missile, was almost beyond belief. In spite of her quick brain, Bess could not come to any decision. Failing a discussion with Dr. Jim she resolved to leave the vexed question at rest.
All the same she did not pause in her detective work. Having followed up one clue, until it ended--for the time being--in nothing, she hunted about for another. So far she had made two discoveries. The pistol which Joyce declared he had received from Don Manuel was certainly the weapon with which the murder had been committed; and the bullet was of silver. But this knowledge resulted in nothing. Certainly it cast a strong suspicion on the Mexican; but that part of the puzzle Bess felt she could safely leave to Herrick. So far as her particular business was concerned she could do no more, until she heard her colleague's report. Pending this, she began to work in a different direction. It occurred to her that she had never questioned Sidney about his doings in the Pine wood on the night of the murder. Possibly he might be able to supply some clue to the mystery.
"He was in the habit of watching the tower," said Bess to herself, "he said as much on that day when we had the picnic. I wonder if he saw anything suspicious on that night; then he might have seen that horrid little Joyce, or perhaps Frisco. I'll see what he knows."
Sidney was not an easy person to question. His fantasies of thought, had been laughed at so frequently, the truth of his statements so often denied, that he had grown reticent. What he saw, what he heard, he kept to himself, and not even his own family could get him to explain himself on occasions when they really desired information. The boy mooned about in a dreamy state of mind, saying little beyond the merest common places and for the most part lived in that world of fantasy which was anathema-maranatha to the people around him. He was like a wild animal, shy, timid, and intensely suspicious.
Bess thought that he might be more open with her, when he was--so to speak--in his native wilds. She therefore watched her opportunity, and followed him to one of his favourite haunts in the pine wood, where it fringed the moor. Here one afternoon, she found him seated in a secluded glade beside one of those remarkable circles, which the country people call fairy rings. So steadily was he gazing at this in the half-light which filtered through the overhead boughs, that he did not notice her approach. To be sure she trod softly and used the same precaution as she would have done when approaching the haunt of some timid animal.
Sidney had always been a puzzle to everyone, but Bess understood him better than most people. Besides she had discussed him frequently with Santiago, and was inclined to take the Mexican's view of the boy's peculiarities. Remembering the oft-quoted saying of Hamlet. Bess was less sceptical than those around her. She could' not see why Sidney should not possess the power of seeing,--what in the generally accepted sense is called the unseen. Considering what the lad had foretold with regard to the death of Mrs. Marsh and the accident to her step-son, it was impossible to say that Sidney was either a fool or a madman. There was some reason for his fantasies--so-called: and Bess regarded him with a certain amount of awe. She could not understand him; but she granted that he was a rare spirit, far removed from the common-place mortal.
"Well Thomas the Rhymer," said Bess gaily, when her shadow fell on the fairy-ring, "are you looking for the Queen of Elf-land?"
It was characteristic of Sidney that he was never taken by surprise. At the sound of her voice he neither started nor expressed any anger. All he did was to raise his serious eyes to her face, and observe quietly, "I knew you were coming, Bess dear."