The Five Knots

by Fred M. White

"There is no one we can send," Wilfrid said. "You must bike into Castlebridge, late as it is. I will look after your patient."

"I know you can do that," Mason replied. "And, really, there doesn't seem to be any other way."

Wilfrid hesitated and then made some excuse to leave the room. Recalling the conversation he had overheard between Cotter and the man who called himself Jansen, a sudden idea crossed his mind. He went straight to Cotter's room and opened the door without ceremony. It was very much as he had expected. The wardrobe was open and most of the drawers had been pulled out and lay upon the floor. Not so much as a pocket-handkerchief remained in any of them. There was no sign of a portmanteau or dressing-basket, either. Wilfrid smiled cynically as he looked round the dismantled room. The first of the rats had left the sinking ship. Beyond question, Cotter had stolen away, and Maldon Grange would see him no more. The telegram he had sent from Castlebridge was probably the last communication that Maldon would ever receive again from Samuel Flower's confidant and factotum.

No doubt he had feathered his nest. Possibly he had laid his hands upon everything available. He had fled from the terror to come before it was too late. He had been wise in his choice of time.

"I think you had better go!" Wilfrid said when he had returned to the dining-room. "Everybody has gone to bed and your patient will be safe in my hands. You ought not to be more than an hour away. The road is a good one and you can't go wrong."

A few minutes later and Mason was speeding off to Castlebridge on his bicycle. Wilfrid laid his book aside and pitched his cigarette into the grate. He must sit in the sick-room and watch till Mason returned. Flower lay quiet and still as death. He hardly seemed to breathe. There was a good fire in the room and the atmosphere inclined Wilfrid to drowsiness, and presently he shut his eyes.

He was aroused a little later by the sounds of muttering from the bed. Flower's eyes were closed and seemed to be dreaming about something in which the name of Cotter was mixed up.

"Why doesn't he come back?" he was saying. "What a time he is! He promised me to see the matter through this afternoon. I was a fool to trust him. I am a fool to trust anybody but myself, and some day he will desert me and I shall have to bear it all myself. But he doesn't know everything; nobody knows the secret that lies hidden in Maldon Grange."

The speaker broke off into a feeble chuckle. There was something sinister in this senile mirth, something that caused Wilfrid to turn away in disgust. The voice ceased a moment later and all was still.

Surely Mason was a long time. More than an hour had passed and there was no sign of the nurse's return. Wilfrid closed his eyes just for a moment, or so it seemed to him, and when he looked again he saw the clock was pointing to half-past two.