“It’s a great risk we’re all of us running, through my letting the young gentleman out, as I’ve done the last few days,” he said, in a warning voice; “but he’s begged so hard and he’s behaved so well that I’ve done it to keep him quiet for one thing, for fear he’d get out without my leave, instead of with it.”
Here was her opportunity. In a voice which was one of earnest entreaty, Chris said:
“Why should he not be let out? He is not mad, you know he is not mad, Stelfox. You would never dare to let a man who was really insane go about as he has done the last few days. Why should you ever have been afraid to let him out? And why have you changed your mind now?”
Stelfox looked rather alarmed by the young lady’s vehemence. He gave a glance round and made a gesture of warning, as if afraid they might be overheard; but Chris went on in a reckless tone:
“I can’t understand you. Either this unhappy man is mad, in which case he certainly ought not to come out at all, now more than at any other time, or he is not mad, in which case it is very wicked of Mr. Bradfield to shut him up, and very wicked of you to be quiet about it, and very silly of Mr. Richard himself not to get away when he can.”
“Hush, ma’am, pray don’t speak so loud; you wouldn’t if you knew the harm you might be doing the poor gentleman by it. Mr. Richard’s mad, and he’s not mad, and that’s the truth. You can see for yourself there’s something wrong with him,” he went on, looking into the young lady’s face, with an expression of some doubt and curiosity. “He’s reasonable enough in many ways, as I told you before. He’s as mad as a hatter in his likes and dislikes. It’s by his liking for you, ma’am, that I’m keeping him in order. But he hates Mr. Bradfield so much that if I were to allow him to meet my master alone, I wouldn’t give sixpence for Mr. Bradfield’s chances of getting away from him alive.”
The night air was clear and still, and keen with frost. The great evergreen oaks above them were lightly powdered with snow, which there was not even a breath of wind to shake off. For a moment after Stelfox had uttered these words there was a dead, silent calm, which increased the dread roused by the man’s words in poor Chris.
Then, from the north side of the house, there came suddenly, piercing their ears, a ringing cry of “Help—help!”
Then there came a crash, the sound of a heavy fall, and then again perfect stillness.