The Solitary Farm

by Fergus Hume

"Then the assassin must have them."

"Yes. Perhaps you can tell me who is the assassin?"

"I can't say; you know as much as we do," said Vand coldly. "If I had murdered the old man, as you were so ready to think, on Granny Tunk's ravings, I should have the jewels and long since would have cleared out with them. But the fact that I am still here with Rosamund proves that I am innocent."

"We must go and see the police to-morrow, Henry," said Mrs. Vand, "and have this wicked girl arrested. She must be made to give up the papers she has stolen. Oh!"—Mrs. Vand plunged forward—"I could scratch her eyes out!"

Undoubtedly the furious woman would have made the attempt, but that Bella was on her guard. Already in the secret passage, she had only to touch a spring and the panel sprang back into its place with a click. In the darkness Bella heard her so-called aunt hurl herself against the hard wood, using very bad language. Then came the beating of fists against the panel in the vain attempt to break it down. Bella knew that the panel was too strong to break, but thought it was best to leave the house as speedily as possible. Cyril was waiting for her near the boundary channel, and the sooner she joined him the better. As she turned to go she heard the high, screaming voice of Mrs. Vand raging wildly.

"Go up on the roof and use the search-light, Henry!" shouted Mrs. Vand. "The minx will get out of the house by some way we don't know of, and must get down the corn-path. I'll catch her there, and you show the light so that I can seize her. I'll tear her hair out! I'll scratch her eyes out! I'll make her ill, and——" what else Mrs. Vand was about to do to her, Bella did not hear, as there was no time to be lost in getting away from the dangerous neighborhood of the infuriated woman.

Bella sped along the narrow passage fearlessly, as long experience had made her acquainted with its intricacies. It was contrived in the thick dividing walls of the old house on the ground floor. At one part there was a shaft leading to another passage on the first floor, and up this it was possible to scramble by notches cut in the walls. Bella had half a mind to ascend to the upper story, and linger for a chance of escape. But as Cyril waited her at the boundary channel, it was possible that he might come into contact with Mrs. Vand, who would be furiously hunting. Therefore, she judged it best to leave the house and gain the corn-path before Mrs. Vand could intercept her. With this scheme in her mind Bella ran along the passage until she came to a door, which turned on a central pivot. This she twisted, and slipped like an eel through the opening to find herself in a kind of tiny chamber. Groping round this she soon discovered the hasp of a closed door, which she skilfully manipulated. The door—a narrow one and somewhat high—swung open, and the girl was outside in a quiet corner at the back of the house, and hidden fairly well by a projecting buttress. A screen of ivy clothed the Manor wall at this point, and the door was concealed behind the screen, so that its existence had never been suspected. Bella had discovered the exit from the inside, and had cut round the ivy that masked the door so that she could get it open. Of course, the cut ivy had more or less withered, but even so, no one guessed that there was a door behind the brownish oblong.

The night was dark and warm and silent. Bella stole along the footpath, which ran between the house and the tall, rustling stalks of the corn. Several times she paused, thinking she heard a noise, but everything was still, and she speedily turned the corner of the mansion. Apparently Mrs. Vand was not on the hunt yet, or perhaps she was busy with the search-light which she had asked her husband to use. However this might be, Bella saw that the course was clear, and stealing round to the front door, which she found to be closed, she sped like an antelope down the winding corn-path which led to the boundary channel. Just as she reached the top of this and was prepared to start down it, the beam of the electric light struck into the dark sky.

Huxham had rigged up the light on the flat roof, between the sloping tiles, but Vand had transferred it to the quarter deck, which was slung round the chimney. Thus he was enabled to sweep the whole horizon without being interrupted by the tall roofs of the Manor. The beam swung round here and there, pointing like a great finger, and finally settled on the corn-path and on Bella's dark figure running for dear life from the mansion. The girl heard Vand's shout as he espied her, heard also the front door opening, as Mrs. Vand rushed in pursuit.

But Mrs. Vand, like Hamlet, was stout and scant of breath, and with all the will in the world urged by a venomous hatred, could not gain on her detested niece, who ran like Atlanta. The search-beam revealed the path plainly, and showing the flying figure of Bella, with Mrs. Vand panting in vindictive pursuit. Towards the end of the path near the boundary channel Bella called softly and breathlessly, "Cyril! Cyril! Mrs. Vand is following. Hide! hide!"