“Come away,” said Arthur. “We must not look at this.”
He quickly flung the covering over the jar.
“Yes, for God’s sake let us go,” said Susie.
“We haven’t done yet,” answered Arthur. “We haven’t found the author of all this.”
He looked at the room in which they were, but there was no door except that by which they had entered. Then he uttered a startled cry, and stepping forward fell on his knee.
On the other side of the long tables heaped up with instruments, hidden so that at first they had not seen him, Oliver Haddo lay on the floor, dead. His blue eyes were staring wide, and they seemed larger than they had ever been. They kept still the expression of terror which they had worn in the moment of his agony, and his heavy face was distorted with deadly fear. It was purple and dark, and the eyes were injected with blood.
“He died of suffocation,” whispered Dr. Porhoët.
Arthur pointed to the neck. There could be seen on it distinctly the marks of the avenging fingers that had strangled the life out of him. It was impossible to hesitate.
“I told you that I had killed him,” said Arthur.
Then he remembered something more. He took hold of the right arm. He was convinced that it had been broken during that desperate struggle in the darkness. He felt it carefully and listened. He heard plainly the two parts of the bone rub against one another. The dead man’s arm was broken just in the place where he had broken it. Arthur stood up. He took one last look at his enemy. That vast mass of flesh lay heaped up on the floor in horrible disorder.
“Now that you have seen, will you come away?” said Susie, interrupting him.
The words seemed to bring him suddenly to himself.
“Yes, we must go quickly.”
They turned away and with hurried steps walked through those bright attics till they came to the stairs.
“Now go down and wait for me at the door,” said Arthur. “I will follow you immediately.”
“What are you going to do?” asked Susie.
“Never mind. Do as I tell you. I have not finished here yet.”
They went down the great oak staircase and waited in the hall. They wondered what Arthur was about. Presently he came running down.
“Be quick!” he cried. “We have no time to lose.”
“What have you done, Arthur?”
“There’s no time to tell you now.”
He hurried them out and slammed the door behind him. He took Susie’s hand.
“Now we must run. Come.”
She did not know what his haste signified, but her heart beat furiously. He dragged her along. Dr. Porhoët hurried on behind them. Arthur plunged into the wood. He would not leave them time to breathe.
“You must be quick,” he said.
At last they came to the opening in the fence, and he helped them to get through. Then he carefully replaced the wooden paling and, taking Susie’s arm began to walk rapidly towards their inn.
“I’m frightfully tired,” she said. “I simply can’t go so fast.”
“You must. Presently you can rest as long as you like.”
They walked very quickly for a while. Now and then Arthur looked back. The night was still quite dark, and the stars shone out in their myriads. At last he slackened their pace.
“Now you can go more slowly,” he said.
Susie saw the smiling glance that he gave her. His eyes were full of tenderness. He put his arm affectionately round her shoulders to support her.
“I’m afraid you’re quite exhausted, poor thing,” he said. “I’m sorry to have had to hustle you so much.”
“It doesn’t matter at all.”
She leaned against him comfortably. With that protecting arm about her, she felt capable of any fatigue. Dr. Porhoët stopped.
“You must really let me roll myself a cigarette,” he said.
“You may do whatever you like,” answered Arthur.
There was a different ring in his voice now, and it was soft with a good-humour that they had not heard in it for many months. He appeared singularly relieved. Susie was ready to forget the terrible past and give herself over to the happiness that seemed at last in store for her. They began to saunter slowly on. And now they could take pleasure in the exquisite night. The air was very suave, odorous with the heather that was all about them, and there was an enchanting peace in that scene which wonderfully soothed their weariness. It was dark still, but they knew the dawn was at hand, and Susie rejoiced in the approaching day. In the east the azure of the night began to thin away into pale amethyst, and the trees seemed gradually to stand out from the darkness in a ghostly beauty. Suddenly birds began to sing all around them in a splendid chorus. From their feet a lark sprang up with a rustle of wings and, mounting proudly upon the air, chanted blithe canticles to greet the morning. They stood upon a little hill.
“Let us wait here and see the sun rise,” said Susie.
“As you will.”
They stood all three of them, and Susie took in deep, joyful breaths of the sweet air of dawn. The whole land, spread at her feet, was clothed in the purple dimness that heralds day, and she exulted in its beauty. But she noticed that Arthur, unlike herself and Dr. Porhoët, did not look toward the east. His eyes were fixed steadily upon the place from which they had come. What did he look for in the darkness of the west? She turned round, and a cry broke from her lips, for the shadows there were lurid with a deep red glow.
“It looks like a fire,” she said.
“It is. Skene is burning like tinder.”
And as he spoke it seemed that the roof fell in, for suddenly vast flames sprang up, rising high into the still night air; and they saw
