Ranson's Folly (Fiscle Part 3) by Richard Harding Davis (best black authors .TXT) 📖

For I Did Not Cry Out At What I Saw Nor Part 3 Title 1 (Ranson's Folly) Pg 120

Retreat From It. Immediately At My Feet Was The Body Of A Beautiful

Woman,  Lying At Full Length Upon The Floor,  Her Arms Flung Out On

Either Side Of Her,  And Her White Face And Shoulders Gleaming,  Dully,

In The Unsteady Light Of The Candle. Around Her Throat Was A Great

Chain Of Diamonds,  And The Light Played Upon These And Made Them

Flash And Blaze In Tiny Flames. But The Woman Who Wore Them Was Dead,

And I Was So Certain As To How She Had Died That,  Without An

Instant's Hesitation,  I Dropped On My Knees Beside Her And Placed My

Hands Above Her Heart. My Fingers Again Touched The Thin Slit Of A

Wound. I Had No Doubt In My Mind But That This Was The Russian

Princess,  And When I Lowered The Candle To Her Face I Was Assured

That This Was So. Her Features Showed The Finest Lines Of Both The

Slav And The Jewess; The Eyes Were Black,  The Hair Blue-Black And

Wonderfully Heavy,  And Her Skin,  Even In Death,  Was Rich In Color.

She Was A Surpassingly Beautiful Woman.

 

"I Rose And Tried To Light Another Candle With The One I Held,  But I

Found That My Hand Was So Unsteady That I Could Not Keep The Wicks

Together. It Was My Intention To Again Search For This Strange Dagger

Which Had Been Used To Kill Both The English Boy And The Beautiful

Princess,  But Before I Could Light The Second Candle I Heard

Footsteps Descending The Stairs,  And The Russian Servant Appeared In

The Doorway.

 

"My Face Was In Darkness,  Or I Am Sure That,  At The Sight Of It,  He

Would Have Taken Alarm,  For At That Moment I Was Not Sure But That

This Man Himself Was The Murderer. His Own Face Was Plainly Visible

To Me In The Light From The Hall,  And I Could See That It Wore An

Expression Of Dull Bewilderment. I Stepped Quickly Toward Him And

Took A Firm Hold Upon His Wrist.

 

"'She Is Not There,' He Said. 'The Princess Has Gone. They Have All

Gone.'

 

"'Who Have Gone?' I Demanded. 'Who Else Has Been Here? '

 

"'The Two Englishmen,' He Said.

 

"'What Two Englishmen?' I Demanded. 'What Are Their Names?'

 

"The Man Now Saw By My Manner That Some Question Of Great Moment Hung

Upon His Answer,  And He Began To Protest That He Did Not Know The

Names Of The Visitors And That Until That Evening He Had Never Seen

Them.

 

"I Guessed That It Was My Tone Which Frightened Him,  So I Took My

Hand Off His Wrist And Spoke Less Eagerly.

 

"'How Long Have They Been Here?' I Asked,  'And When Did They Go?'

 

"He Pointed Behind Him Toward The Drawing-Room.

 

"'One Sat There With The Princess,' He Said; 'The Other Came After I

Had Placed The Coffee In The Drawing-Room. The Two Englishmen Talked

Part 3 Title 1 (Ranson's Folly) Pg 121

Together,  And The Princess Returned Here To The Table. She Sat There

In That Chair,  And I Brought Her Cognac And Cigarettes. Then I Sat

Outside Upon The Bench. It Was A Feast-Day,  And I Had Been Drinking.

Pardon,  Excellency,  But I Fell Asleep. When I Woke,  Your Excellency

Was Standing By Me,  But The Princess And The Two Englishmen Had Gone.

That Is All I Know.'

 

"I Believed That The Man Was Telling Me The Truth. His Fright Had

Passed,  And He Was Now Apparently Puzzled,  But Not Alarmed.

 

"'You Must Remember The Names Of The Englishmen,' I Urged. 'Try To

Think. When You Announced Them To The Princess What Name Did You

Give?'

 

"At This Question He Exclaimed,  With Pleasure,  And,  Beckoning To Me,

Ran Hurriedly Down The Hall And Into The Drawing-Room. In The Corner

Furthest From The Screen Was The Piano,  And On It Was A Silver Tray.

He Picked This Up And,  Smiling With Pride At His Own Intelligence,

Pointed At Two Cards That Lay Upon It. I Took Them Up And Read The

Names Engraved Upon Them."

 

The American Paused Abruptly,  And Glanced At The Faces About Him. "I

Read The Names," He Repeated. He Spoke With Great Reluctance.

 

"Continue!" Cried The Baronet,  Sharply.

 

"I Read The Names," Said The American With Evident Distaste,  "And The

Family Name Of Each Was The Same. They Were The Names Of Two

Brothers. One Is Well Known To You. It Is That Of The African

Explorer Of Whom This Gentleman Was Just Speaking. I Mean The Earl Of

Chetney. The Other Was The Name Of His Brother. Lord Arthur Chetney."

 

The Men At The Table Fell Back As Though A Trapdoor Had Fallen Open

At Their Feet.

 

"Lord Chetney?" They Exclaimed,  In Chorus. They Glanced At Each Other

And Back To The American,  With Every Expression Of Concern And

Disbelief.

 

"It Is Impossible!" Cried The Baronet. "Why,  My Dear Sir,  Young

Chetney Only Arrived From Africa Yesterday. It Was So Stated In The

Evening Papers."

 

The Jaw Of The American Set In A Resolute Square,  And He Pressed His

Lips Together.

 

"You Are Perfectly Right,  Sir," He Said,  "Lord Chetney Did Arrive In

London Yesterday Morning,  And Yesterday Night I Found His Dead Body."

 

The Youngest Member Present Was The First To Recover. He Seemed Much

Less Concerned Over The Identity Of The Murdered Man Than At The

Interruption Of The Narrative.

 

"Oh,  Please Let Him Go On!" He Cried. "What Happened Then? You Say

Part 3 Title 1 (Ranson's Folly) Pg 122

You Found Two Visiting-Cards. How Do You Know Which Card Was That Of

The Murdered Man?"

 

The American,  Before He Answered,  Waited Until The Chorus Of

Exclamations Had Ceased. Then He Continued As Though He Had Not Been

Interrupted.

 

"The Instant I Read The Names Upon The Cards," He Said,  "I Ran To The

Screen And,  Kneeling Beside The Dead Man,  Began A Search Through His

Pockets. My Hand At Once Fell Upon A Card-Case,  And I Found On All

The Cards It Contained The Title Of The Earl Of Chetney. His Watch

And Cigarette-Case Also Bore His Name. These Evidences,  And The Fact

Of His Bronzed Skin,  And That His Cheek-Bones Were Worn With Fever,

Convinced Me That The Dead Man Was The African Explorer,  And The Boy

Who Had Fled Past Me In The Night Was Arthur,  His Younger Brother.

 

"I Was So Intent Upon My Search That I Had Forgotten The Servant,  And

I Was Still On My Knees When I Heard A Cry Behind Me. I Turned,  And

Saw The Man Gazing Down At The Body In Abject Horror.

 

"Before I Could Rise,  He Gave Another Cry Of Terror,  And,  Flinging

Himself Into The Hall,  Raced Toward The Door To The Street. I Leaped

After Him,  Shouting To Him To Halt,  But Before I Could Reach The Hall

He Had Torn Open The Door,  And I Saw Him Spring Out Into The Yellow

Fog. I Cleared The Steps In A Jump And Ran Down The Garden-Walk But

Just As The Gate Clicked In Front Of Me. I Had It Open On The

Instant,  And,  Following The Sound Of The Man's Footsteps,  I Raced

After Him Across The Open Street. He,  Also,  Could Hear Me,  And He

Instantly Stopped Running,  And There Was Absolute Silence. He Was So

Near That I Almost Fancied I Could Hear Him Panting,  And I Held My

Own Breath To Listen. But I Could Distinguish Nothing But The

Dripping Of The Mist About Us,  And From Far Off The Music Of The

Hungarian Band,  Which I Had Heard When I First Lost Myself.

 

"All I Could See Was The Square Of Light From The Door I Had Left

Open Behind Me,  And A Lamp In The Hall Beyond It Flickering In The

Draught. But Even As I Watched It,  The Flame Of The Lamp Was Blown

Violently To And Fro,  And The Door,  Caught In The Same Current Of

Air,  Closed Slowly. I Knew If It Shut I Could Not Again Enter The

House,  And I Rushed Madly Toward It. I Believe I Even Shouted Out,  As

Though It Were Something Human Which I Could Compel To Obey Me,  And

Then I Caught My Foot Against The Curb And Smashed Into The Sidewalk.

When I Rose To My Feet I Was Dizzy And Half Stunned,  And Though I

Thought Then That I Was Moving Toward The Door,  I Know Now That I

Probably Turned Directly From It; For,  As I Groped About In The

Night,  Calling Frantically For The Police,  My Fingers Touched Nothing

But The Dripping Fog,  And The Iron Railings For Which I Sought Seemed

To Have Melted Away. For Many Minutes I Beat The Mist With My Arms

Like One At Blind Man's Buff,  Turning Sharply In Circles,  Cursing

Aloud At My Stupidity And Crying Continually For Help. At Last A

Voice Answered Me From The Fog,  And I Found Myself Held In The Circle

Of A Policeman's Lantern.

 

"That Is The End Of My Adventure. What I Have To Tell You Now Is What

Part 3 Title 1 (Ranson's Folly) Pg 123

I Learned From The Police.

 

"At The Station-House To Which The Man Guided Me I Related What You

Have Just Heard. I Told Them That The House They Must At Once Find

Was One Set Back From The Street Within A Radius Of Two Hundred Yards

From The Knightsbridge Barracks,  That Within Fifty Yards Of It

Someone Was Giving A Dance To The Music Of A Hungarian Band,  And That

The Railings Before It Were As High As A Man's Waist And Filed To A

Point. With That To Work Upon,  Twenty Men Were At Once Ordered Out

Into The Fog To Search