The red skullFergus Hume 7. 2-F- -z - gs # : # # # # ;.,C LIBRARY Dericka FRONTISPIECE THE RED SKULL BY FERGUS HUME Author of " The Mystery of a Hansom Cab" With Illustrations by Louise Rogers (PR NEW YORK DODGE PUBLISHING COMPANY 220 EAST 23d STREET THE NEW YORK ASTOR, LTMOX AND TILDEN FOUNDATIONS R 1932 L [THE RED SKULL] COPYRIGHT, 1908, BY DODGE PUBLISHING COMPANY All rights reserved THE RED SKULL CHAPTER I THE TENT OF MYSTERY SIR HANNIBAL TREVICK was a personage at St. Ewalds. Certainly he lacked money to support the dignity of his name, and therefore had been compelled to let Trevick Grange to a South African millionaire, and take up his abode in the Dower House at the Cornish watering-place. But he came of an old and distinguished family, and pos- sessed to all appearances great force of character. Also, he was an ardent churchman, and a philanthropist. Finally, he had a most charming daughter, who was both clever and beautiful: two things not invariably found together. Dericka Trevick—her quaint Christian name was a source of wonder to archaeologists, since it was that of the Babylonian fish-goddess—could have figured as Titania at a fairy solemnity. She was small and slender, golden- haired and blue-eyed, with a bright manner and a mer- curial temperament. Such a description gives an impres- sion of insipidity and shallowness. But Dericka was neither insipid nor shallow. Her will was strong, her judgment quick and unerring, and she ruled the Dower House. Sir Hannibal obeyed her, although he saved his dignity by pretending that such obedience was but O fatherly kindness, which could refuse nothing to his QO household fairy. She dominated the mild, lean govern- & 7 8 THE RED SKULL ess, Miss Warry, who had taught her everything, and she kept a tight hand over the three domestics who formed Sir Hannibal's modest establishment, in spite of her looks and manner Dericka was strong, and could have passed for an Elizabeth or Catherine in embryo. All the same, she was popular, and therefore all the young men of St. Ewalds were bound to her chariot- wheels. But she favored none of these as they were too bucolic and tame. Her heart had been given for over six months to a smart young barrister from London, who was called Oswald Forde. Sir Hannibal approved, for Forde was a rising man, and might yet become a K.C. or a judge; but as yet there was no open engagement. Der- icka was only twenty, and Forde twenty-seven, so there was time enough for a mutual experiment as to whether they would suit one another before attempting matri- mony. Forde came to St. Ewalds to bask in the smiles of beauty whenever he could manage, and thus found him- self at the fete given by Sir Hannibal in aid of the Fisher- men's Chapel, which was being built on a promontory just outside the town. It was a splendidly warm autum- nal day, and the spacious grounds of the Dower House were occupied by all the fashion and wealth of the place. The square, ugly building—it was Georgian and comfort- able—looked out over the waters of St. Ewalds Bay, and possessed gardens far too large for the size of the mansion. These sloped down to a fringe of ragged rocks, barricading smooth stretches of sand upon which broke the white Atlantic billows. What with foreign plants and native trees, and late blooming flowers of all kinds border- ing the green lawns, the place was very lovely, and the tents erected here and there for the fete made it look like THE TENT OF MYSTERY an encampment. People were buying and selling, and eating and drinking, and dancing, and playing games in the hot sunshine, and Sir Hannibal secretly assured him- self with much satisfaction that the f&te would bring in m uch money to the chapel. He liked to play the Lord of the Manor even on a small scale, and regarded those who at- tended the fgte as so many worshipers who came to adore him—which they certainly did in a most snobbish manner. As Sir Hannibal was a widower, with a daughter who would soon be married—at least, so said the gossips— many young ladies had, as the saying goes, set their caps at him. He seemed to favor Miss Anne Stretton, a dark- eyed, handsome woman, who was studying art, and had just enough to keep a roof over her head and dress well, which she invariably did. Sir Hannibal, as Miss Stretton knew, was poor, but then he had a position, and was, as she guessed, fairly manageable. It was worth her while to be Lady Trevick, and that position she was determined to occupy, even though her heart drew her in the direction of Ralph Penrith, a dissipated-looking man, whose pedi- gree was long and whose income was extremely small. These two were at the f6te, and talked together a great deal, perhaps, on Miss Stretton's part, to arouse the jealousy of Sir Hannibal, and force him into an ardently- wished-for proposal. "You have scarcely given me a word," complained Sir Hannibal, advancing to where Miss Stretton sat along with his rival. "Will you not accept my arm and walk round the grounds?" "Certainly," assented the lady, alertly, and shot a glance at Penrith, whose face grew dark, "but I cannot stay long. Mr. Penrith's mother has asked me to stay io THE RED SKULL for a few days, and he drives me out to the Manor House at four o'clock." "It is three now," said Penrith, looking at his watch; "you have an hour to explore the grounds, Miss Stret- ton." "It will not take us long to drive five miles," she replied carelessly, and walked away with the baronet, leaving Penrith sullen and silent. After a time he strolled away to the tent where drinks were sold and enjoyed himself there in his own gross way. Miss Stretton looked sideways at her companion as they strolled among the visitors. She saw a well-preserved man of over fifty who might pass for forty, and could not but admire his alert military looks and perfect dress. Catching her gaze Sir Hannibal smiled, and examined her in his turn. She was certainly handsome—quite a fine woman, although it could be seen that later in life she would become stout, and heavy. Her eyes were dark, and she knew how to use them, and her frock was all that could be desired, even by so fastidious a man as Sir Hannibal Trevick. "You are very cruel to me," he murmured in her ear. "On the contrary," said Miss Stretton, smiling, "I should blame you. I have been here for half an hour, and this is the first time that I have set eyes on you. But for Mr. Penrith I should have been sadly neglected. These St. Ewald people look down upon a poor artist." "They are jealous, dear lady. You are fit to be a queen." "I am a queen, without a kingdom," said Miss Stret- ton meaningly. "You shall have one soon," replied Sir Hannibal THE TENT OF MYSTERY n significantly. "A small kingdom, it is true, but still one wherein you can reign supreme." "The size does not matter so long as love rules." "And love wouldrule, were you the queen." "That so much depends upon my subjects," replied the lady, quickly, and cast another look on him, which made the elderly heart of Sir Hannibal beat faster than it had done for years. They were in a secluded part of the grounds overlook- ing the beach, and undoubtedly after so propitious an opening Trevick would have proposed, but that he was interrupted. He had just opened his mouth to speak, and Miss Stretton, with a heightened color, was getting ready to accept him, when Dericka appeared along with Forde. With his dark looks and her golden beauty they made a comely couple, but Sir Hannibal frowned all the same. His frown was reflected on the face of the calm queenly woman beside him. Dericka, glancing from one to the other, drew her own conclusions. She knew what Miss Stretton desired, and, not liking her, congratulated her- self on thus preventing a proposal. Forde saw nothing, and shook hands with Anne; but Dericka saw everything with the quickness of a woman who is in love herself, and at once proceeded to detach her father from this too fas- cinating adventuress—as she characterized Miss Anne Stretton. "You are wanted, papa," she said quickly. "Mr. Bowring is waiting for you in the library." "Mr. Bowring!" echoed Sir Hannibal, growing red and looking fierce; " and what may Mr. Bowring want?" "I really do not know. He came over from the Grange in his motor-car and seems very anxious to see you—on business, I suppose." 12 THE RED SKULL "He might have chosen a day when I was less busy," retorted Trevick, and seemed inclined to deny himself to the untoward visitor. But on second thoughts he turned away toward the house. "I must see him, I suppose," he said ill-humoredly; "something to do with the Grange, I expect. He is a most expensive tenant in spite of his being a millionaire. He always wants some- thing done. Miss Stretton, will you excuse me? Dericka, please look after Miss Stretton." And he went away with a last look at Anne, who stood silent, drawing figures on the sandy path with the tip of her sun-shade. "Have you had some refreshment?" Dericka asked her formally. "Thanks, yes," replied Miss Stretton with a sweet smile, and with rage in her heart at the interruption. "Now I must buy something." "Or you can have your fortune told," said Forde smiling. "Go to the Tent of Mystery. Miss Warry is there, and she really tells the most wonderful things." "Has she told your fortune?" asked Miss Stretton with a glance at Dericka. "That is very easy to read," answered Forde, smiling again. Anne tossed her head. "How superstitious you are." "I believe that there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamed of in our philosophy," retorted the young man dryly. "Poor Shakespeare; what a mis-quotation." "Give the credit to Bacon," laughed Dericka, who scarcely knew what to say to a woman she so much dis- liked. "I am Hot clever enough to decide the Bacon-Shakes- THE TENT OF MYSTERY 13 peare controversy, Miss Trevick. You are, I under- stand?" "You praise me too much, Miss Stretton." How far the battle of words would have gone it is im- possible to say, but the presence of Forde restrained the feminine war, and the situation was adjusted by a glance between the two women. Then Miss Stretton turned away with a laugh—a society laugh, to hide deeper feel- ings, and left the lovers alone. "You can talk Romeo and Juliet," she called back mockingly. Dericka rather talked Lady Macbeth. "How I hate that woman," she said, clenching her small fist; "an adventuress, and" "That is too severe, my dear." "No it isn't. She came here pretending to paint pic- tures, but in reality to look for a husband." "Rumor gives Penrith to her in that capacity." "And my knowledge of her scheming, gives her my father." "Pooh 1 Sir Hannibal is too old to think of marriage." "A man is never too old to be cajoled by a woman," said Dericka tartly. "I know that," replied Oswald gaily; "even my twenty-seven venerable years have not saved me." Dericka pinched his arm. "You donkey." "A really nice girl would have put in an adjective." "You silly donkey!" Whereupon the young man kissed her, and a lovers' interlude followed. "When will you allow me to ask Sir Hannibal?" de- manded the barrister softly. "To-morrow, before you go back to town. But papa will not make any objection, dearest. He has just enough to live on, and will be very glad to place his burden—I 14 THE RED SKULL am the burden, if you please—on some one else's shoul- ders." "Dear burden," murmured Forde, taking her in his arms. Then, when he descended to earth again, "Why doesn't Bo wring help your father? I heard that they were old friends." "Old enemies, rather," said Dericka with a cloud overshadowing her fair face. "Mr. Bowring knew papa in Africa years ago, when I was a little baby. When he made his money he asked papa to let him have the Grange, and pays him a good rent. But papa and Mr. Bowring hardly ever speak, and never visit one an- other." "But Mr. Bowring is with him now?" "Yes, and I am going into the house to see what is the matter." "There is no need," urged Forde, restraining her. "There is every need," replied Dericka determinedly. "Papa in many things is a mere baby, and I have to do everything; besides, he has a very quick temper, and Mr. Bowring is a very rough man. Should they quarrel, and that is not unlikely, I don't know what may happen." "Let me go with you to the house." "No, stop here. People always smile when they see us together." "Who cares for their smiling? We are as good as engaged." "Wait until our engagement is announced," said Dericka quickly, "then I won't mind. But I hate gossip, until my position is assured with papa's ap- proval." "Ah, then you do count Sir Hannibal as some- thing?" THE TENT OF MYSTERY "Of course. I like to do things in order. Papa, to the outward world, is a person of character and with a strong will. But he has my character and my will." "What a terrible wife I shall have," said Oswald jokingly; "you will rule me in every way." "Then I shall begin now," said the girl, laughing, but with a fond look at his handsome face. "Stop here and I'll be back as soon as I know why Mr. Bowring has come. Papa cannot do business without me." Somewhat annoyed, Forde lighted a cigarette and leaned over the brick wall to watch the billows rolling on the shore, while Dericka walked quickly to the house. She had cause for uneasiness, as she had heard her father express anything but amiable sentiments toward his tenant. Mr. Bowring was a rough man, as she had said, for she had met him once or twice, and having lived in lawless lands he was not likely to be bound by social rules. Sir Hannibal, weak and refined, would have no chance against his rugged strength, nor indeed would he have any chance did Bowring do business with him. The South African, fighting for his own hand, was always trying to get the better of his landlord with regard to the Grange, and would have done so on three occasions but for Dericka's shrewdness. Bowring bore no grudge toward the girl for her interference, and rather seemed to admire her for her cleverness of get- ting the better of him. But Dericka's fears as to a fracas proved to be vain, for when she reached the front door she met Sir Hannibal, and his visitor, issuing therefrom. The baronet cer- tainly appeared to be agitated, but Bowring presented a calm aspect. 16 THE RED SKULL The millionaire was a man of bronze, gray as an old wolf, with shaggy hair fringing a bald head, and shaggy eyebrows overhanging piercing gray eyes. His long beard was also shaggy, but his skin, in spite of his sixty years, was fresh and pink as that of the girl who gazed at him. With the contempt for appearance, in which wealthy men indulge on occasions, he wore a shabby suit of black, with an African felt hat, and carried in his un- gloved hands a queer twisted stick, carved and painted by the hands of some Zulu witch-doctor. Beside Sir Hannibal, polished, stately, accurately dressed, and eminently refined, John Bowring looked like a savage, but a savage dowered with a powerful brain. Man of bronze as he was the keen gray eyes lighted when they fell on Dericka, gazing fascinated by his strength. "Good-day, missy," he said in a deep, harsh voice, yet in a kindly manner. "We have finished our con- versation, and now your father—my old friend," he cast a side glance on the baronet as he spoke, "wants to see the fun." "Dericka will conduct you round the grounds," said Trevick hurriedly. "Where is Miss Stretton, my dear?" "In the Tent of Mystery," replied the girl carelessly; "at least, I advised her to go there and have her fortune told." Sir Hannibal looked hard at his daughter, trying to discover if her words were double-edged. But she met his gaze serenely, and presently the baronet hurried away. Bowring turned to address the girl with some- thing like a chuckle when behind him appeared a mild face and a lean, gaunt figure, in sad-colored feminine garments. THE TENT OF MYSTERY 17 "Why, Sophy, are you not in the tent ?" said Dericka, recognizing her governess with surprise. "I just came in for a few minutes," said Miss Warry timidly. "It is trying work telling fortunes. I read Miss Stretton's hand." "What did you read?" asked Dericka, curiously. "Sorrow and trouble and wickedness," said the sibyl solemnly, and again the old millionaire chuckled. "Do you really profess to tell the future?" he asked contemptuously. "I really do," said the mild governess, nettled by his disbelief, "and if you will come with me to the tent I can tell yours." "My future is already my past," said Bowring harshly; "you can tell me nothing likely to interest me. How- ever, I wish to give some money to the chapel, and as I give nothing for nothing I may as well buy a few fairy stories with my guinea." "I may make mistakes," said Miss Warry simply, and blinked with her tired old eyes, "and sometimes I do, as I am not sufficiently conversant with the psychic life. But I do occasionally foretell things which really happen." "Let us see what will happen to me," said Bowring jokingly, and with a grim smile walked after Miss Warry, who floated—the term is very appropriate, for she did not walk like an ordinary human being—toward the Tent of Mystery. It was now about four o'clock, and Dericka saw her father bidding farewell to Miss Stretton, who was hanging on the arm of the still sulky-looking Mr. Penrith. The baronet seemed to be younger than ever as he basked in the smiles of the adventuress. "For she is that," in- sisted Dericka to herself, "and wants to marry papa for 18 THE RED SKULL his position." It never occurred to the girl, who, after all, was young in experience, that the adventuress might seek money also, and that she was not likely to find in the pockets of Sir Hannibal Trevick. Derickasaw the three disappear down the short avenue, at the foot of which, presumably, waited the dog-cart of Penrith, wherein he proposed to drive Miss Stretton over the moorland to his mother's place. She then walked about amongst the visitors, exchanging a few words, and making herself agreeable. Chance brought her in front of the Tent of Mystery, and from it there issued Bowring, looking somewhat white, followed by the governess. "You don't believe me?" asked Miss Warry severely —that is, as severely as her mildness would permit. "No," said Bowring harshly, "you talk nonsense." "Yet you seem to be upset," said Dericka suddenly, and looking at him in a curious, puzzled way. Bowring wiped the perspiration from his high, bald forehead. "I have had a turn," he said gruffly, "but from nothing that woman told me." The governess had again retired into the tent, and Dericka, thinking that the fortune-telling was at an end, was about to conduct the millionaire to the refreshment stall, when Miss Warry again appeared, holding an envelope in her hand. "Mr. Bowring," she called, and some people turned at the sound of the name. "What is it? " he asked gruffly. "In this envelope I have written a prophecy which I read in your hand. It will be fulfilled before to-morrow. The envelope is sealed, and if what I have written here occurs, then the truth of my art will be made manifest." THE TENT OF MYSTERY 19 Bowring took the sealed envelope and thrust it into his pocket. "I shall look at it to-morrow night." "It may be too late!" said the sibyl solemnly, and vanished into the tent. CHAPTER II THE PROPHECY FULFILLED "WHAT does she mean by that?" asked Bowring sharply, when the governess had disappeared to foretell the futures of fresh dupes. "I do not know," said Dericka. Then she pointed to the pocket into which the millionaire had slipped the sealed letter: "You can learn, if you read what is written." Bowring took the letter out and twisted it in his gnarled, lean hands in a thoughtful manner. "No," he said abruptly, and after some meditation. "If it is good, it can wait; if evil, I must meet it blindly, as it is best that the future should be hidden from our eyes." "Yet you went in there to inquire?" "Because I wanted to give my guinea to the chapel. I give nothing for nothing. In that way I made my money. It is all rubbish this fortune-telling," he added, looking keenly at Dericka. "Has Miss Warry ever told your fortune?" "Yes. By the cards and by the hand, and by look- ing into the crystal." "And you believe what she said?" Dericka blushed, and looked away in the distance to where Oswald Forde appeared, sauntering idly in search of her, with a cigarette. "I should like to believe," she said softly. 20 THE PROPHECY FULFILLED 21 Bowring's eyes followed her, and he also saw the handsome young fellow. The sight appeared to annoy him, and he frowned. "You are foolish, girl," he said roughly. "We make our own fortunes, good or bad, and it needs no palmistry to tell that as we sow, so shall we reap." Dericka, her eyes still fastened on her lover, who paused to talk with a pretty girl, defended what Miss Warry called "her art." In a musing voice she replied. "To some natures," she said, "the veil between the seen and the unseen is very thin. Such natures may have a premonition which turns out true, or they may read by the present the doubtful future. I have known several of Sophia's prophecies come true in the end." "Sophia?" "Miss Warry. She is my governess, and has been for many a long day, but shortly she is leaving us, as the success of her fortune-telling has made her desirous to earn money in that way." "If she sets up in London," said Bowring grimly, "she will be haled before the magistrates as a swindler, and quite right, too. The woman's a fool." "She is a very good, kind woman, Mr. Bowring." "Well"—the millionaire shrugged his large shoulders —" she certainly has a strong advocate in you, Miss Trevick. Where is your father?" "Somewhere about," said Dericka, looking round. "Do you wish to see him again?" "Not at once; though I would like to see him before five o'clock, when I must leave. It is a long drive to Trevick Grange, but my motor is swift, and I'll get home very rapidly. I want to have a chat with you be- fore I go away." 22 THE RED SKULL "With me?" Dericka looked surprised. There was little in common between this old man and herself. "Yes." He led the way toward a secluded corner where there was a garden seat, and nodded that she should follow, with the air of a man who is accustomed to be obeyed. "Your father and I have been talking about you," he said abruptly, when Dericka was seated. "Yes?" Dericka replied coldly, and fastened her brilliant blue eyes on the rugged face. She was not go- ing to commit herself by asking questions until she knew how the land lay. Bowring, as she intuitively saw, was a man to be delicately handled. "You seem to be a girl with a head on your shoulders." "Thank you for the compliment. But why pay it to me?" "I have heard of the way in which you manage this house, and your father, who is, and always was, a simple man." "How do you know?" "Because he was with me out in Africa years and years ago, when you were a tiny girl. He came home about the time your mother died, and came home, too, without a penny. Now I," the millionaire expanded his chest in a grandiloquent fashion, "I have made my fortune! I am worth a great deal of money." "So I understand," said Dericka coldly; "but what has all this to do with me?" "I am coming to that. It has a great deal to do with you. I rented the Grange from your father, not because I wanted it, but so as to help him. I pay a fancy rent, upon which he lives." THE PROPHECY FULFILLED 23 "You have no right to talk to me like this," said Dericka, reddening. "After all, my father is my father, and your old association in South Africa does not give you the right to insult him." The millionaire was immovable. "You are a girl of spirit," he said approvingly. "I like you none the worse for it." "With your permission," said Dericka, rising, and speaking sarcastically, "I will join our visitors and at- tend to my duties." "Join that young popinjay there," said Bowring, nod- ding his head in the direction of Forde. "I see well what it means." "Sir!" Dericka looked angry, and really felt angry. "My private affairs have nothing to do with you." "They have a great deal to do with me, as your father and I agreed." "What do you mean?" "Let me reply by asking another question, my dear. When Miss Warry told your fortune did she say who was to be your husband?" "I refuse to answer that question," said Dericka with spirit; but all the same she did answer it by looking again at Forde. "No," said Bowring, looking also; "he is not to be your husband." "I chose for myself, Mr. Bowring." "What a little spitfire you are. Listen. I want to help your father as he is my old friend and is poor." "I never knew that my father and you were friends." "We have not been very thick, certainly," said Bowring grimly. "He has kept away from me, and I from him. But to-day, I came over to make it up. We 24 THE RED SKULL have done so, although it was not an easy task. Your father so far forgot himself as to threaten me with death." "Ridiculous!" "So I told him," said Bowring quietly; "but for reasons connected with South Africa he would not be sorry to see me in my coffin. However, I managed to make him understand that his interests and mine are identical, and proposed a new arrangement." He paused. "Yes?" said Dericka, interrogatively. "I intend to pay your father a larger rent and help him out of his present difficulties, of which you are cog- nizant, if you—you, Miss Trevick—will marry my son Morgan." Dericka rose with a bewildered air. "Marry your son—that idiot?" "He is not quite an idiot," said Bowring in vexed tones, "although his will is weak. All the better for a woman of your managing capability, my dear. Morgan wants a woman who can handle him firmly, and from what I have heard of you, Miss Trevick, you are the woman who would make Morgan a good wife. Also, you are a girl of old family, and the daughter of a baronet. Against these advantages I set my money. If you will marry Morgan, and turn him into something resembling a man, I will give you your old family seat of the Grange, and allow you and your husband ten thousand a year. When I die you will get the lot of my money. Also, I will put your father's affairs right." "Are you serious?" demanded the girl, with a red spot on either cheek. "Perfectly. I never waste words." THE PROPHECY FULFILLED 25 "Neither do I. Wait!" She walked away, leaving Bowring wondering what she was about to do, and speedily returned with Oswald Forde. "I have asked this gentleman to come," said Dericka coldly, "so that he and you may hear my answer. Oswald, Mr. Bowring and my father have decided that I shall marry Morgan, the son of this man." "Dericka, you will not, when I" "When you love me," she finished, and placing her arms round his neck she kissed him fondly. Then, turn- ing to Bowring, who looked on grimly at this comedy, she said promptly, "Do you require any further an- swer?" "What does all this mean?" asked Forde in angry tones. "It means that Mr. Bowring wanted to buy me and that I am not for sale. It means, Oswald, that I will marry you whenever you like." "It means also," broke in Bowring, perfectly com- posed, "that if you do not obey your father and marry my son, Sir Hannibal Trevick, baronet as he is, will be disgraced." "Disgraced! What do you mean?" "I advise you to ask your father that," said Bowring sarcastically. "You will find that he is on my side, and is anxious to call Morgan his son-in-law. For the rest, I can wait." He pulled out his watch and glanced at it. "Five o'clock; I must go. I'll return to-morrow to see if your conversation with your father has modified your attitude. Good-day!" When the millionaire had gone Dericka stared after him in consternation. 26 THE RED SKULL “What does he mean?” she asked. “Blackmail,” said Forde quietly. “My legal experi- ence tells me that much. Your father was in South Africa and apparently got into some scrape. This man knows all about it, and unless you marry this Morgan Bowring he will tell all the world something which your father would rather keep concealed.” “Oswald,” said Dericka rapidly, “my father is weak and foolish in many ways. But I do not believe that he has done, or would do, anything disgraceful.” “Then why is this man so certain that you will marry at his bidding !” Dericka passed her hand across her forehead with a weary air. “I do not know,” she said. “This Morgan Bowring is half an idiot—a most dreadful person to look upon. Were he sane I would not marry him, much less when I know, what all St. Ewalds knows, that the man is not re- sponsible for his actions in a great measure. My father would never consent to my marrying him. I am sure of that.” Forde was silent. He knew that Sir Hannibal was a selfish man, and probably had pages in his past life which he would not like read by the world. To save himself from a single pang he would sacrifice Dericka without a moment's hesitation. But he did not tell this to the girl for obvious reasons, and remained awk- wardly silent. It was the girl who first recovered her speech. “I shall see my father at once,” she said decisively, “and confront him with Mr. Bowring before he leaves this place.” Forde acquiesced, but a search for the master of the THE PROPHECY FULFILLED 27 house was in vain. Sir Hannibal was not to be found in any of the rooms, nor in the gardens. People, having exhausted the pleasures of the fête, were already leaving, and Dericka, with Forde at her heels, went down to the gates thinking to find her father there, saying farewell to some of his visitors. Instead, she found Mr. Bowring getting into a 5o-h.p. Hadrian machine, more like a racer than a simple motor-car for traveling country roads. Bowring addressed her : “I cannot find my old friend Sir Hannibal,” he said with something like a sneer, “ or I should have told him of our conversation. But I'll come again to-morrow. Good-evening.” And as the chauffeur placed his hands on the wheel the motor swung off with a powerful hum, like a gigantic bee. Dericka stared after the machine, but found nothing to say. Then she went back with Forde to again search for Sir Hannibal, and again was unsuccessful. What Bowring thought of the girl's defiance it is im- possible to say. He sat thinking deeply, sometimes with a grim smile, and again with a frown corrugating his brows. The chauffeur, a quiet, fair young fellow called Donalds, engineered the racer—for the Hadrian certainly was that, from the speed she was going at-up the High Street of St. Ewalds and out into the open country. Many people stopped to look at that low, rakish form painted gray, and looking uncanny, which ran up the steep ascent of the street like a fly up a wall. Every one knew Bowring, and envied him the wealth which could command such a vehicle. But when the steep ascent was mounted the machine ran smoothly along a level road until she topped the next rise and slid round a sloping curve, which dropped her 28 THE RED SKULL into a valley. Then again came a rise, and she slipped forward humming into wild waste lands. On all sides stretched the naked moorland, covered with heather and gorse, and huge gray stones lying here and there as though a Cornish giant had dropped a hand- ful of pebbles from his pocket. On either side, here and there rose rounded hills, topped with cromlechs and rock- ing-stones, and streaked with purple lights. The west flared with the vivid colors of the sunset, delicately pink, and melting on the horizon into sheets of shimmering gold. To the left were the bleak hills bathed in the im- perial purple of the setting sun; to the right the cold blue of the trembling ocean, with white waves near shore tumbling amongst the black jagged rocks. Bowring knew the landscape well, and troubled himself very little about the beauty it took on under the changing hues of the western sky. He was thinking of many things—perhaps of his past, which rumor said was not all that could be desired. But of one thing he certainly was thinking, and that was the firm face of the fairylike creature who had defied him. He wondered that so frail a form could con- tain so brave a spirit. Dericka was the very wife for the half-mad Morgan, and would bring good blood into the family. Then he, John Bowring, millionaire, could die in peace, leaving the firm foundations of a county family. So the old man dreamed, while the car buzzed along the smooth road, swooping into hollows, soaring up ascents, and, spinning like a live thing, sped along end- less levels. About three miles from St. Ewalds came a long downward stretch of road, which afforded Donalds the chance of letting his machine go. And go she did, with a roar and a rush like a live bombshell. The keen THE PROPHECY FULFILLED 29 air cut sharply against their faces as they hummed down the long descent. At the foot the road took a sharp turn under some high banks, above which stretched the purple of the moorland. With Bowring dreaming, and Donalds exulting in the speed of the powerful machine, the car swept round the curve at a tremendous rate. But once round, and with another short road descending before her to a second corner, she had scarcely darted forward a short distance when right in front loomed up a huge mass of granite in the very centre of the roadway. With a cry of horror Donalds put on the brakes. But it was too late. The Hadrian met the mass of granite full, and the two men were hurled into the air, above a smashed mass of steel and iron, smoking and hissing. It was like a nightmare. The chauffeur was tossed like a cork down a bank and fell on a soft bed of purple heather, narrowly missing a mighty stone, which would have killed him. Dazed and confused, and not know- ing how time was passing, Donalds painfully climbed up to the road again. He saw, as in a dream, the broken motor-car, vague and doubtful-looking in the twilight, and saw also his master struggling to his feet. As Bow- ring straightened himself, swaying to and fro, a man leaped down from the high bank, and without hesitation, put a revolver to the old man's ear. The next moment Bowring fell as the report rang out, and Donalds, gasp- ing with horror, weak from loss of blood, and confused by the shock, fell fainting down the bank, to all ap- pearances as dead as the old millionaire. But the shot had attracted attention. The murderer heard a shout, and without hesitation regained the top of the steep bank and vanished amidst the purple heather. Scarcely had he done so when round the corner came 30 THE RED SKULL several laborers at full speed. They were quarrymen employed in breaking stones in an old quarry which be- longed to Trevick Grange. These ran forward, exclaim- ing at what they saw. The whole appearance of the wreckage told a story—the broken car, the insensible man, and the great mass of granite in the centre of the road. "But the shot?" said one man, picking up Bowring's body. He dropped it with a cry of horror. "Look!" he cried, and pointed to the head. "Murder!" said several voices, and the quarrymen looked at one another in the fast gathering twilight. The sound of wheels was heard rattling furiously, and round the second corner, whence the quarrymen had ap- peared, rushed a dog-cart bearing Penrith and Miss Stretton. "What is the matter?" they asked. "We heard a shot, and came back." "Bowring's dead," said a man with a civilized accent. "Shot!" "Dead! Shot!" cried Penrith, while Miss Stretton shrieked, and he leaped down with a horrified face. "Let me see." While he examined the body Anne Stretton, with a white face and trembling lips, alighted also. Near the body her quick eye caught sight of an envelope. Pick- ing this up she tore it open. "It might contain something likely to say who killed him," she said shaking; "perhaps the assassin left it here." "What does it say?" asked Penrith, while the quar- rymen crowded round and one struck a match for her to read the letter by. THE PROPHECY FULFILLED 31 She read slowly: "You will be killed before you reach home this evening!" There was a dead silence, and all looked at the body. The prophecy had been fulfilled. CHAPTER III QUEER EVIDENCE THE violent death of John Bowring caused, as was natural, an immense sensation in the district. Not only because crime was comparatively rare in those sparsely- inhabited parts, but also on account of the position and great wealth of the victim. The news ran like wildfire through the countryside, and the local reporters gathered like vultures round the famous corpse. But the evidence they picked up was scanty, as the police, ignorant them- selves of many things, were reticent. No one knew why Bowring had been murdered, but there was a grim determination about the crime which revealed very clearly that the assassin had made up his mind that the million- aire should not escape. Failing with the granite rock, he had made certain with the revolver, and therefore must have had some extremely strong motive to induce him to place, so to speak, his neck twice in the hangman's noose. Then came out the fact of the sealed letter. Anne Stretton might have chattered, or some of the quarrymen to whom she read the single prophetic line might have told the story, or Miss Sophia Warry, proud of her powers, might have boasted of her achievement. No one knew exactly how the rumor got about, but certainly within four-and-twenty hours there were few people who had not heard of the strangely-fulfilled prophecy, and this 32 QUEER EVIDENCE 33 introduction of a psychic element gave the case a weird interest, which removed it from the category of common- place crime. The body was taken by the quarrymen to Trevick Grange, which stood a couple of miles from the scene of death, amongst the wild Cornish moors. It was a ram- bling, two-story house of rough gray stone, roofed with bluish slates, and covered with ivy and lichen, as though it were indeed natural to the soil. The mansion amidst its circle of wind-clipt trees, and fronting the changeful waters of the Atlantic, looked picturesque, but uncom- monly grim; as autochthonic as the early British dwellings further up the moor lands. For centuries the Trevicks had dwelt there, and not always in the most reputable way; but pecuniary necessities had forced the present baronet to let the family seat to John Bowring, and retire to the more cheerful Dower House at St. Ewalds. So the body of the millionaire, which in life had lorded it under the ancient roof, was placed in the guest chamber, and the house was given over to a mourning atmosphere, which suited its sinister looks. Of course, Sir Hannibal was greatly shocked. He and the dead man had not been very good friends, although they had passed through many adventures in the waste lands of South Africa. All the same, it was ter- rible to think that a man full of life and health and ambi- tious schemes should so suddenly be removed from the physical sphere, and in so horrible a manner. Also, Sir Hannibal recognized that he had lost a good tenant. No one would pay him so excellent a rent; and, moreover, the solitary situation of Trevick Grange rendered it somewhat difficult to let, even at a moderate price. Sir Hannibal, being intensely selfish, was sorry for John 34 THE RED SKULL Bowring, but he was more sorry for himself, and grum- bled greatly as he drove out to the inquest with Dericka and Miss Warry. The last-named lady had come by par- ticular request, as the coroner wished to know how she had so accurately foretold the death of the millionaire; and Dericka accompanied her old governess to support her in the ordeal. Not that Miss Warry anticipated trouble when being examined, for she was rather glad to display her cleverness; but she felt that Dericka would be a comfort to her at so proud a moment. And along the road beside them streamed carts and carriages and motor-cars and bicycles of all kinds. Everybody seemed to be going to the old Grange, being drawn there mostly by morbid curiosity. The place where the death had happened was like a fair, as sight- seers were exploring every inch of the ground, and some enterprising individuals had erected tents for the sale of refreshments. The granite rock itself had been blasted to atoms as it impeded the traffic, but the place whence it had fallen could be seen in the jagged rent overhead and the raw earth, which gaped through the heather. Some wiseacres insisted that the mass had fallen of its own accord, as wind and rain and sunshine had under- mined its foundations; but others pointed out that the stone must have been purposely pushed over the cliff, whereon it had been balanced, since the herbage around was trampled and broken. And from the position of the rock, as it was remembered, a powerful man with an iron lever could easily have overturned the same to crash down on the highway below. "Who the dickens can have done it?" mused Sir Han- nibal, as with his party he drove through the chattering crowd. QUEER EVIDENCE 35 "We cannot tell until the inquest is over," said Dericka. "And perhaps not even then," piped Miss Warry, casting a side glance at the baronet, whom she greatly admired. "No one was about the road at the time." "The quarry is near at hand," suggested Miss Trevick; "perhaps the men working there may have seen someone." "So far as that goes," remarked Sir Hannibal, judi- ciously, "Donalds, the chauffeur, saw the murderer, though he did not recognize him. In the twilight recog. nition would certainly be difficult, let alone the confused state in which the man's brain must have been." "Had Mr. Bowring any enemies? " asked Miss Warry artlessly. "Any amount," replied the baronet grimly. "Every successful man has, you know. But I don't see what any one had to gain from killing him. I presume Bow- ring's wealth goes to his son?" "To that half-witted creature?" exclaimed Dericka quickly. "Yes; and he is not so mad as people make him out to be." "Certainly too mad for me to marry," she re- torted. "Oh, that is all ended with Bowring's death," said Sir Hannibal a trifle uneasily. "He certainly did pro- pose something of that sort." "And it made you angry," said Miss Warry with apparent innocence. The baronet turned on her sharply: "Why do you say that?" "I went into the house while you were closeted with 36 THE RED SKULL Mr. Bowring in the library, and I heard your voice raised in anger." "Quite so. And my anger was on account of what Dericka has said. It was impertinent of Bowring to pro- pose that his son should marry my daughter. Apart from the fact that Morgan is what the Scotch call 'a daftie,' neither his birth nor his position are fitted to make him my son-in-law." "But he will be rich now," protested Miss Warry, casting down her gray-green eyes. "If he had a million I would not marry him," cried Dericka. "And he has a million," murmured the governess. Sir Hannibal looked at her uneasily, and after clearing his throat and considering for a moment or so, he gave a perfectly unnecessary explanation: "Bowring and myself were not very good friends," he said slowly, "as he treated me very badly in Africa. Still, he was a good tenant, and his death"—he cast a sidelong glance at the governess, such as she had earlier cast at him—"his death," he added emphatically, " will be very harmful to me." "I am sure it will," murmured the governess meekly. And still Sir Hannibal did not look satisfied. "See that place?"—he pointed with his whip toward the picturesque gray mass of the Grange, which was now only a short distance away—" it isn't everybody's money, and Bowring paid me a splendid rent." "Why?" asked Miss Warry quickly. "Because he liked the house," retorted Sir Hannibal sharply; "but, as I was about to say when you inter- rupted me" "I am so sorry, Sir Hannibal." 38 THE RED SKULL "If Dericka consents/' laughed the baronet, but still uneasily. Indignation had hitherto kept Dericka silent. "I would rather die," she burst out at last, when the carriage stopped before the porch of the Grange. "Morgan is mad and dangerous." "No ! no !" protested Sir Hannibal; "very harmless. Bowring assured me." "Mr. Bowring made the best of what could not be helped," retorted his daughter. "I say that Morgan is dangerous, and falls into wild beast rages. Your jest is a poor one, father." "Perhaps it was not a jest," tittered Miss Warry, meaningly. "Oh, yes, it was," said the baronet quickly; "merely a jest, though perhaps not in the best possible taste." "I agree with you there," said Dericka coldly; "es- pecially as I am really engaged to Oswald." "I have not given my consent to that, Dericka." "But you will," she replied. "I marry for love, father, not for money." "Yet you should know the value of money," groaned Trevick, entering the house. Dericka's blue eyes flashed with sapphire lights, and but for the publicity of the place she might have made some retort. Sir Hannibal hitherto had always been ready to approve of Forde's wooing, penniless barrister though he was; but since Bowring's visit and proposal of marriage on behalf of his idiot son, he had wavered con- siderably. Dericka almost thought that Sir Hannibal wished her to marry the semi-lunatic for the sake of the money. And Miss Warry deepened this impression. QUEER EVIDENCE 39 "Your father is sorry that the money should be lost," she whispered as they walked toward the room in which the inquest was to be held. "Why not marry Morgan Bowring, and when he dies be a rich widow and become Mr. Forde's beloved wife." "Marry that?" said Dericka in a fierce whisper, and pointed with her pretty, scornful chin toward a weak- looking man who sat next to a stout elderly woman and beside a pretty doll-like girl. "Are you out of your senses, Sophia?" Miss Warry, as she always did when at a loss for a re- ply, tittered in a nervous manner, and meekly subsided into a chair between Sir Hannibal and his daughter. Morgan Bowring's wandering eyes rested on the new- comers. He passed over Sir Hannibal and the faded governess with indifference, but he looked with passion- ate eagerness at Dericka's beautiful face. There was something almost savage in his fixed regard. But Dericka was, as has been said, a girl of unusually strong character, and she was not going to be outstared by one whom she regarded as a lunatic. Her blue eyes met his gray eyes with a hard dominating look, and a quiver passed over the animal countenance of Morgan. The light died out of his face, and with a kind of a whimper he suddenly grasped the hand of the stout, elderly woman, who undoubtedly was Mrs. Krent, the housekeeper. At once she turned to soothe him, and flashed an angry glance on Dericka. But that young lady having achieved her object in letting Morgan know that she was stronger than he, looked indolently round the room, and began to take an interest in the proceedings. "As we have inspected the body," said the coroner, a lean man with a mild, sheeplike face, and no very great 40 THE RED SKULL intelligence in his dull eyes, "we will now hear the evi- dence. Inspector Quill." The inspector related how the body had been found, and how Bowring had come by his death. He detailed what he had discovered concerning the fall of the stone, which amounted to nothing. Quill insisted that the stone had been forcibly overturned, but although, as he admitted, he had examined the quarrymen, he could not learn who had cast down the rock. Nor, as the in- spector again stated, had the quarrymen seen any suspi- cious person haunting the neighborhood. He proposed to call several witnesses, and first named Donalds, the chauffeur, who alone had caught a glimpse of the criminal. Donalds, who still looked ill from his shaking, had very little to say. He had been pitched down the bank when the car rushed against the stone, and on struggling up again, half dazed with the shock, he had dimly seen a man leap down the cliff whence the stone had fallen and blow out the brains of his staggering master. But Donalds could not say whether the man was short or tall, fair or dark, lean or stout. He caught but a glimpse of the crime and the criminal, and then had fainted. He had, as he said, never noticed the granite rock particularly when it had swung overhead in its ac- customed place. The doctor then appeared, a local practitioner who had been summoned to examine the body when it had been taken to the Grange. The deceased, he stated, had been shaken by the shock of the car smashing against the granite rock, but apparently, from the absence of marks, and the condition of the body, had been very little hurt. He would undoubtedly have been himself QUEER EVIDENCE 41 in a couple of days, as he would have merely suffered from shock. And even at the age of the deceased the shock would not have caused death. The revolver wound was different. The weapon had been placed so close to the dead man's head that the hair had been scorched. The brains had been blown out, and death must have been instantaneous. As the bullet had gone right through the head and had spent its force whistling across the moor, it could not be found, so it was impos- sible to gain any clue in that direction. Mrs. Krent's evidence amounted to the fact that she had come with Mr. Bowring from Africa as she had been, and still was, the nurse of his son, who could not be left to himself. So far as she knew the deceased had no enemies, and had no fear of meeting with a violent death. He had left the Grange in very good spirits to go to Trevick's fdte, and she (the witness) had been more astonished than any one when the body was brought home. Sir Hannibal Trevick gave evidence that he had known Bowring in Africa. He disagreed with Mrs. Krent, as Bowring undoubtedly had many enemies, although wit- ness knew of none who would have gone so far as murder. The deceased had been quite cheerful at the fete, and had gone away in good spirits, intending to call the next day on witness. So far as Sir Hannibal knew, the deceased had no expectation of meeting with a violent death, and Sir Hannibal protested that he could throw no light on the subject. After a few final remarks as to the loss he had sustained by the death of a good tenant, witness stepped down. So far nothing had been educed likely to reveal why Bowring had been murdered, and there was not, in all the CHAPTER IV THE WILL WHEN Miss Warry, with the air of an accomplished actress, pronounced those strange words—"He assuredly was afraid of the death's head "—an eloquent silence fol- lowed. What she meant no one knew; the coroner least of all. But Dericka started and looked up suddenly as a memory crossed her mind. Sir Hannibal, who sat beside her, had been looking down while Miss Warry gave her evidence, but, while not starting as his daughter had done, he raised his eyes slowly and directed a long, pierc- ing glance at the governess. Strangely enough, she was gazing in his direction, and their eyes met. Trevick's were the first to fall. And all this comedy was noticed by Mrs. Krent, who, since Dericka had attracted the attention of Morgan, had kept her eyes fixed venomously on father and daughter. "What do you mean by that speech?" asked the coroner, puzzled. "Oh, it is easily explained." Miss Warry tossed her head as she spoke. For the first time in her tame life she found herself on the stage of life, so to speak, and an object of interest to an admiring crowd, who regarded her as a sibyl. In the midst of a dead silence she ex- plained herself. "The skull in the tent, you know," said Miss Warry. 43 THE WILL 45 he would have fallen, and perhaps he would have, had I not caught his arm. He murmured something about 'The third time '" "What? " asked the coroner eagerly. Miss Warry grew tart. "How can I talk, sir, when you interrupt me? Mr. Bowring, I repeat, said something about 'The third time.'" "The third time of seeing the skull?" "I suppose so. At least his eyes were fixed on it when he made the remark. What it meant I don't know." "Did you not ask him?" "As I am a woman, and possess my fair share of curiosity, I did," admitted the witness, "but he refused to tell me why the sight of the death's head caused him such emotion." "What did he say in reply?" "Merely that the heat of the day had overcome him, and that he was not superstitious, and that he only wanted to get something for the guinea he gave me as he didn't believe in fortune-telling." "Did you say that he would die before he got home?" "No. I merely read his character, and he said that I read it all wrong. Which," said Miss Warry, drawing herself up, "was a story, as I am quite sure that I read him correctly; and he wasn't at all a nice man either," she ended spitefully. The coroner passed this very feminine speech over. "Then you did not say that he was within a short distance of meeting a violent death?" "No; and, what is more, I didn't know that Mr. 46 THE RED SKULL Bowring would meet with a violent death. I saw by the card and in his hand, and in the crystal, that he would die—no more. I wrote down the words so that after his death the truth of what I said should become apparent." "I see." The coroner looked more puzzled than ever. He was too physical to believe in the psychic, and yet all that Miss Warry had said was true. The sealed letter with its fulfilled prophecy was a stern fact which could not be proved false. And on the face of it the meek little governess could have had nothing to do with the millionaire's death. "Why did the death's head excite the fears of-the deceased?" asked the coroner, wondering in what way he could best pursue the examination. "I told you before that Mr. Bowring refused to explain." "Where is the skull?" "I don't know." There was a movement of surprise in the room. "You don't know?" repeated the coroner. "Yet I presume you placed the skull on the table yourself so as to add to the effect of your fortune-telling?" "I did nothing of the sort," said Miss Warry angrily. "When I returned to the tent I found the skull on the table. I thought Sir Hannibal had placed it there." "If" cried the baronet, starting to his feet and look- ing very white. "No, I never saw any skull." "Then I don't know who brought it," said Miss Warry. "Miss Trevick did not, because I asked her. I went into the house to get something, when Mr. Bow- ring was with Sir Hannibal in the library, and when I returned to the tent the skull was on the table. I saw Mr. Bowring immediately afterward. When I gave him THE WILL 47 the sealed paper, and he went away, I came out before the tent, and remained chatting for a few minutes. When I reentered the skull was gone." "Then some one must have placed the skull there while you were in the house, and while you chatted be- fore the tent after Mr. Bowring's departure some one must have removed the skull?" "Yes," said Miss Warry. "I thought it odd, and spoke to Miss Trevick; but she knew nothing about the matter." "This is true," said Dericka calmly, while all eyes were fastened eagerly on her face. "And I also could have nothing to do with it," said Sir Hannibal with a forced laugh, "since I was talking with Mr. Bowring in the library at the time when, ac- cording to Miss Warry, the skull must have been placed in the tent." "Was there a skull in the house, Sir Hannibal?" "Not to my knowledge." "What kind of a skull was it?" said the coroner, addressing Miss Warry. And the governess shud- dered. "A horrible thing," she said in a faltering voice. "Quite like a nightmare. It was not very large, but it was colored scarlet, and round the forehead to the back was a broad band of silver, like a crown." Every one was interested in this strange description. "I wonder you did not take charge of such a queer thing, Miss Warry." "I would have done so, but that it vanished." "But how did it vanish?" "I really cannot say," snapped the witness, who was growing weary of this cross-questioning. "It was in the 48 THE RED SKULL tent when I went in to tell Mr. Bowring's fortune, and vanished when I returned after he went away." "Did any one else besides yourself and Mr. Bowring see it?" "Not to my knowledge. Have you quite done with me?" "Yes," said the coroner mechanically. And Miss Warry, looking very tired, stepped down. Her evidence was so strange that he hesitated whether to believe it or not. Such a person might very well, as he thought, be the victim of an hallucination. Or, again, the tale of this red skull might be a make-up story to advertise herself. On the other hand, the sealed letter was a fact. "That is all the evidence, gentlemen," said the coro- ner after a pause. There was some chatter, and then the coroner made a speech in which he recapitulated all that had been discovered, and dwelt on the extraordinary evidence of the governess. But all his explanations could not throw any light on the mystery which undoubtedly environed the death of the millionaire. It did not take the jury long to consider their verdict, for the evidence left them com- pletely in the dark. All that could be discovered was that Bowring had been shot by an unknown person who had failed to murder him by upsetting the motor- car. A verdict of wilful murder against some person or persons unknown was brought in, and the inquest was at an end. Then the reporters who had been taking voluminous notes rushed away to build up the odd tale of Miss Warry into sensational articles. Every one agreed that THE WILL 49 the case was more mysterious than ever, and Sir Hanni- bal was quite annoyed when he heard for the first time of the scarlet skull. "You should have told me of this," he said angrily. Miss Warry, who was the person spoken to—and the conversation took place in the Dower House drawing- room, after dinner—looked down meekly. "I never thought it would interest you," she said. "I certainly mentioned it to Dericka." "Why didn't you speak? " asked Sir Hannibal, turn- ing on his daughter, who was writing a letter to Forde detailing all that had happened at the inquest, for the young barrister had returned to London. "There was no necessity," she answered, raising her eyes for a moment. "I thought some one at the fete might have placed the skull in the tent as a joke. Cer- tainly, had I known at the time that it frightened Mr. Bowring, or that he was to die, I should have made enquiries. But it will be impossible now to find out who placed it in the tent, or for what reason." "It was placed there to frighten Bowring," said Tre- vick angrily, "so the person must have known that he was to have his fortune told, and also must have known some- thing of Bowring's past life." "You know much," said Miss Warry meaningly. "Yes," assented Sir Hannibal; "much that is bad, and much that is good, for Bowring was a strange mix- ture of good and evil. But I can safely say that I know nothing about a death's head, colored scarlet. It is extremely strange. I shall ask Mrs. Krent what she knows likely to throw light on the matter when I go over to hear the will read at the Grange." Dericka looked up suddenly. 50 THE RED SKULL "Do you go to hear the will read?" she asked quickly. "Certainly. Gratton, the lawyer, has come down from London to attend the funeral and look into things. He wrote saying that I was to attend at the reading of the will, so I am going. Perhaps Bowring has remem- bered me for a trifle; or it may be that he wishes me to be the guardian of Morgan." "Or, perhaps," said Miss Warry, with a titter, and her eyes fixed on the baronet, "poor Mr. Bowring has left his property to Dericka, on condition that she marries his son." "That is extremely unlikely," said Dericka coolly. "I don't know so much about that, since Mr. Bowring had the marriage in his mind on the very day of his death," snapped Miss Warry. "You talk nonsense," said Dericka, with great calm- ness, and rising with the letter to Forde in her hand. "And now, Sophia, you may as well tell my father that you intend to leave us." "What?" cried Sir Hannibal, wheeling round from the window at which he was smoking a particularly fine cigar. "You, Miss Warry—who have been with us since Dericka was a baby—leave us?" "Yes," said Miss Warry bashfully. "I must make provision for my old age, and the emoluments here "— with a viperish glance at Sir Hannibal—" are not regu- larly paid." "I cannot make money out of nothing," said the baronet coloring slightly, for Miss Warry's speech touched his pride; "but I'll pay up before you go, al- though I think you are unwise to leave us. How the dickens can you make your living?" Miss Warry colored in her turn, and with anger: THE WILL 51 "Oh, I am not quite so helpless as all that, Sir Han- nibal," she said shrilly. "This truth I told about poor Mr. Bowring's death has made my fame. I am going to London to set up as a fortune teller." "You'll get into the hands of the police." "No, I won't. I'll have powerful influence at my back. Every one will come to me, for my prophecy about this death has made a great sensation. I'll make a lot of money, and retire in a few years." "But that prophecy was all rubbish," said Sir Han- nibal angrily. "It was nothing of the sort. It was true, sir." "Did you really read all that in Bowring's hand?" Miss Warry gave him an odd glance. "I really did," she said in a solemn tone. "You are a sceptic, but for once you and other jesters have been compelled to acknowledge the truth." And with this Parthian shot the governess left the room, with less meekness than she usually showed, and certainly with less veneration for the idol of her fancy, as Trevick had been. "She has altered altogether," said Dericka, looking at her father. "The success of this prophecy has sent her mad. She used to be quiet, and now is noisy, and really has been quite rude to me. I am glad she is going." "So am I," said Trevick with a gloomy air, "only it looks as though the rats were leaving a sinking ship. Without Bowring's assistance I really don't know what to do for ready money." "Wait till you hear the will read," said Dericka slip- ping her arm within that of Sir Hannibal's in a caressing manner. "The poor man may have remembered you." THE WILL 53 concerned with Bowring went to the Grange to hear how the dead man had disposed of his worldly goods. The listeners to the will were gathered in the great drawing-room, a sombre-looking apartment, which looked out on to the terrace of grim gray stone. Mr. Gratton, the London lawyer, a smart-looking young fellow, read the will. Mrs. Krent, as usual, placed Morgan between herself and her pretty, doll-like daughter, and Sir Hannibal sat near the window with Dericka by his side. There were many people present who had done business with Mr. Bowring, and also a crowd of servants at the door. No one anticipated any surprise from hearing the will read— Mrs. Krent, least of all. It was thought that without doubt Bowring would leave all the property to Morgan, who was his only son, with perhaps an indication as to guardianship. And Mrs. Krent hoped and prayed that she would be appointed to look after the weak-minded heir. There would be some fine pickings out of so wealthy an estate. Therefore Mrs. Krent was uneasy on seeing Sir Hannibal present. She thought that Bowring, in spite of his unconcealed enmity to the baronet, might have made him Morgan's guardian, in which case she would be turned out of house and home. But Mrs. Krent never expected to hear what she did hear; nor did any one else. After various legacies to servants and friends, it was found that the whole of the property was left to Sir Han- nibal Trevick. Morgan was disinherited, and the baronet was the heir. Mrs. Krent rose with fire in her eyes, and screamed with rage. "You," she foamed, shaking her fist; "you killed Bowring for this." CHAPTER V AFTER-EVENTS MRS. KRENT was beside herself with anger as she hurled her very direct accusation at Sir Hannibal. At any time the stout, elderly woman, with her little pig's eyes and red face and dyed yellow hair, would not have been con- sidered beautiful: but at the present moment, with her features distorted with rage, she looked like a virago of the Revolution. It is no exaggeration to say that Mrs. Krent, had she possessed the power, would have there and then murdered the lucky baronet. Indeed, she half flung herself forward to scratch his face, and only the frightened clutch of her daughter prevented her doing so. If ever a woman saw red and went baresark, Mrs. Krent was that woman. She was as one possessed by a devil. Sir Hannibal never quailed: his courage was too high for that. Without rising he stuck his glass in his eye and calmly surveyed the infuriated creature. If he was a trifle paler than usual no one saw it, save Miss Warry, who kept a vigilant eye on his every movement. Why she should do so was not quite clear: but she certainly watched her employer rather than Mrs. Krent. Every one else in the room, alarmed at the savagery of the housekeeper, looked at one another in consternation. "You murdered my master," bellowed Mrs. Krent, clenching her fat hands and quivering with passion. Sir Hannibal never moved a muscle. "Such an accusation is not worth rebutting," said he with easy assurance. "My late friend" 54 AFTER-EVENTS 55 "Friend !" scoffed the housekeeper. "Why you and him quarreled cat and doglike when you met." "As you were never, to my recollection, present at any of our interviews, Mrs. Krent," retorted the other dryly, "I scarcely see how you can substantiate that statement." "I know! I know!" muttered the woman, cowering a trifle. "Bowring never liked you. Him and you in Africa—oh, yes, you may wriggle, sir; all the same, you daren't tell of your doings." "Mr. Gratton"—Sir Hannibal, still cool and un- shaken, and addressing himself to the lawyer—" I apologize for this interruption to your reading of the will. I am the more annoyed," he added, fixing a cold eye on Mrs. Krent, who was calming down rapidly, "that it should have taken place in my house." "Your house!" screamed the housekeeper, angered again. "By inheritance from my own ancestors, Mrs. Krent, and now by legacy." "I think," said the smart young lawyer, speaking to Mrs. Krent, "that you had better sit down. I have not finished reading the will." "Yes, yes, mother," urged Jenny, pulling her parent's skirts. "You are frightening Morgan." The disinherited son did indeed look frightened. His usually pale face was gray with fear, his large eyes looked furtively here and there as if to seek a refuge, and he licked his scarlet lips—they were unhealthily red—in a nervous manner. Dericka, who had sat unmoved throughout the scene, stared at the creature curiously, and wondered that Bowring should have dared to ask her to marry such a person. She wondered more that her 56 THE RED SKULL father should have even thought of consenting to the match. But now there was no need that she should be sacrificed like another Iphigenia, since the desired money had come to Sir Hannibal on no conditions. At the same time Dericka wondered why John Bowring had made such a will. Meanwhile Mr. Gratton resumed his interrupted reading. Then it became apparent that there was some sort of condition, although its fulfilment de- pended upon Sir Hannibal's personal view of the matter. "I should like," read the lawyer, rustling the impor- tant-looking document, "that my old friend Trevick should marry his daughter to my son Morgan for reasons he knows of, and" "Pardon me," interrupted Sir Hannibal, raising one white hand. "I know of no reason why such a marriage should take place. If the legacy is contingent on such a match I decline to accept it." "It is not contingent," answered Mr. Gratton, calmly. "In any case you inherit the property. But my late client suggests that Miss Trevick should marry young Mr. Bowring," and he glanced at Morgan, who was looking with sudden eager interest at Dericka. That young lady sat cool and composed, as though the discussion did not concern her. "And if Miss Trevick refuses to marry Morgan?" asked Mrs. Krent. "As she does refuse," put in Dericka in a clear, hard voice. Gratton shrugged his shoulders. "Things remain as they are," he replied. "In any case, Sir Hannibal in- herits." "Am I a pauper? " demanded Morgan, speaking for the first time, in a thick, heavy, hesitating voice. AFTER-EVENTS 57 "Oh, no. Sir Hannibal by the will is instructed to allow you two hundred a year, and any further sums he may think fit." "Then my poor boy will not get one penny," wailed Mrs. Krent, wiping her red little eyes. "Oh, gentle- men, excuse me calling Morgan so, but I have nursed him for years, in Africa as in this place. He is like my own flesh and blood, and to think that he should be cast upon a cold world with his poor brain is cruel, wicked, horrible, and" Before Mrs. Krent could come out with her final ad- jective the baronet interposed. "You exaggerate," he said sharply. "Morgan will receive the two hundred a year and such further sums as may be necessary to make him comfortable." "Out of sixty thousand a year," flashed out the woman in cold fury. "Oh, thank you for nothing, Sir Hanni- bal. I call it a wicked will." "I certainly think," remarked Gratton, addressing the baronet, "that it will be as well for you, sir, to carry out the suggestion of the testator and marry Miss Trevick to" "Marry that?" interrupted Dericka, rising suddenly. "Are you out of your mind, Mr. Gratton? The man is not fit to marry." The answer came, not from the lawyer, but from Morgan himself: "But if 1 love you?" he stammered thickly. And then, before he could speak further he was pulled back into his seat by Mrs. Krent. Dericka turned pale. There was something terrible in the animal gaze which the half-mad creature cast upon her. The wild look in his eyes, the tremulous move- 58 THE RED SKULL ment of his hands, the repulsive appearance of his white face with its scarlet lips and weak chin, repelled her as though a snake had crossed her path. Strong-minded as she was, the timidity of the female came to the surface as Morgan glared at her in a leering manner. Biting her lips to keep down the climbing hysteria, she fairly ran out of the room and was followed by gaunt Miss Warry immediately. Sir Hannibal kept his composure. "My daughter cannot marry you, Mr. Bowring," he said coldly, "as she is already engaged." "But you cannot take my money if she doesn't," growled Morgan. "The money is not yours, but mine," corrected Sir Hannibal, eyeing the disinherited man as though he were a dog, "and you may be sure that you will be well looked after." "I don't want to be looked after," mumbled Morgan, and there came into his eyes the anger of a dog about to snap. "I'm a free man. I won't be shut up!" "Hush! Hush, lovey," whispered Mrs. Krent, and drew him down beside her. "You won't be shut up, but live always with your Martha." "That entirely depends upon how you behave, Mrs. Krent," said Sir Hannibal tartly. "If I am forced to take measures to put away Mr." A snarl from Morgan made him stop and retreat a step. Mrs. Krent fondled the man and cast a warning look in Sir Hannibal's direction. "If you rouse him I won't be answerable," she said sharply, "and as to sending me away, I won't go; that is, until Morgan marries your daughter." "And I will," growled the man heavily. AFTER-EVENTS 59 Sir Hannibal felt a qualm. The speech and look of the creature were too horrible for words, and he quailed at the idea of Dericka being handed over to such a hus- band. However, a timely thought that he was not com- pelled to gain the money by such a sacrifice restored his courage, and with a contemptuous look he again spoke to Mr. Gratton. "Have you finished?" he asked in icy tones. "Nearly," replied the young man hurriedly, and went on to read out various instructions as to the estate, and also some details about Mrs. Krent, who was, it appeared, to be allowed a legacy of one hundred a year, and to be sent away, or retained, as Morgan's guardian, at the dis- cretion of Sir Hannibal. "Two pounds a week," wailed Mrs. Krent when in possession of these facts. "Oh, what a cruel will! And I saved John Bowring thousands." "I shall see that you have justice," said the baronet, grandly. Mrs. Krent glared, and again looked as though she could have struck the lucky inheritor of the Bowring property. However, her attention was taken off by the complaints of various persons who had expected to re- ceive money but had been disappointed. One and all resented the fact that Sir Hannibal, connected by no ties of blood with Bowring, should have inherited, and one and all turned on the baronet. Some even hinted in loud tones that Mrs. Krent's accusation might be true. Sir Hannibal winced, for the sound of the angered voices was unpleasant. He raised his hand. "There is no need for me to be placed on my de- fence," said Sir Hannibal calmly. "Every one knows that at the time of the death I was attending to my guests AFTER-EVENTS 61 Miss Warry smiled very often in the course of the drive. On reaching the Dower Hguse, Dericka would have retired at once to her own room, but that Sir Hannibal requested her presence in his library. She followed him there in a lanquid manner, but the first speech he made strung her up to a fighting humor. "My child," said the baronet blandly, "by the dis- pensation of Providence "—he rolled the phrase on his tongue—" my difficulties have been unexpectedly ended. With this money we can now take our proper place in the county. It is my intention to refurnish the Grange and reinhabit the home of my ancestors. I shall do my share, Dericka, and I would point out that you must do yours by making a better match than that you contem- plate." Dericka looked directly at her father, whose eyes were averted, and her color rose. "You said that I was engaged an hour or so ago?" "Merely to satisfy that maniac, my dear. I do not wish you to marry him. But with your beauty and my money" "Mr. Bowring's money," interposed Dericka cruelly. "Mine now," said the baronet with emphasis. "With my money, my dear, I think you should marry a title." "One would think that you lived at Bayswater to hear you talk so respectfully about titles. I am not of that way of thinking myself; I intend to marry Oswald." "No. He is not a good match for you." "I intend," repeated Dericka, rising slowly and speaking slowly, "to marry Oswald Forde. Your op- position will only make me marry him the sooner." 62 THE RED SKULL "Dericka, would you leave your old father?" The pathetic speech failed of its effect. "I think you can console yourself very well," said Miss Trevick, coldly. Sir Hannibal changed color. "I don't understand" "I think you do, father," she answered, going to the door, "and now I will lie down for an hour! There will be no need for us to resume this discussion later. My mind is made up." "Dericka, I forbid," began the outraged father, but spoke to the empty air. The door opened and closed and he was alone, fuming with anger at this behavior of his daughter. He knew well that he could not coerce her into obeying him, as for years she had, in spite of her youth, exercised rule over the household. That was all very well, Sir Hannibal considered, when they were poor, as Dericka's clever head kept things smooth—but now that ample funds were in hand the baronet wished to as- sert himself. Consequently he was annoyed that his first exercise of a long-surrendered authority should be quietly ignored. "She shall not marry Forde," he assured himself, pacing the library, "or if she does it will be against my express wish. Not one penny will she get of the money. As for myself"—he cast a complacent look in a near mirror—" I am still young enough to marry and beget an heir. Then let Dericka look to herself, and" Here a sharp knock at the door made him start. Since the death of Bowring his nerves were not well under control. "Come in," he cried with a violent start. Then, when the door opened slowly, "Oh, it's you, Miss Warry. I am engaged.'' 64 THE RED SKULL throwing up her mittened hands, "they will add to the accusation of Mrs. Krent, and" "They can add nothing," interrupted Sir Hannibal quickly. "I was, as I explained, here at the fete about the time the murder took place so many miles away. There is nothing to connect me with it; and I scarcely think, Miss Warry, that I am the man to kill a fellow creature in cold blood." "People rarely murder in cold blood," murmured Miss Warry significantly; "a sharp word or two, a blow, and all is over." "In this case it happens to be a pistol shot," said the baronet dryly. "Come, Miss Warry, you have not asked for this interview to accuse me of committing the crime ?'' Miss Warry threw up her hands with a scream. "Oh, no, no," she minced, waving the handkerchief; "dear Sir Hannibal, how can you think that I would dream of such a thing? But people are censorious, you know, and it may be they will say things." "Let them say things." "It may be unpleasant." "Pooh! Sixty thousand a year will soon close their mouths." "Well," said Miss Warry, replacing the handkerchief in the velvet bag and drawing the strings, "if you want me I'll give you my address. I may be able to help you." "In what way?" "I may be able to help you," she repeated, and moved toward the door in a stately manner. Sir Hannibal placed himself in her path. "Do you know something likely to elucidate the mystery of this crime, Miss Warry?" AFTER-EVENTS 65 "I don't say that. But I may be able to help you." "That skull affair is peculiar?" said Sir Hannibal, inquiringly. "Very. And you think it is peculiar? Oh"—Miss Warry flung up her hands again with a little laugh— "you can depend upon me, Sir Hannibal," and with a curtsey she swept from the room, leaving Sir Hannibal nervous and upset by her mysterious hints. "What does she know about that Death's Head?" he asked himself uneasily. But Miss Warry was not there to answer. CHAPTER VI MRS. KRENT'S DIPLOMACY "MONEY does not bring happiness!" Sir Hannibal found speedily that this proverb was certainly true in his case. Hitherto, since he had arrived from Africa to settle in St. Ewalds his life had been fairly smooth, in spite of everlasting money troubles; but now that the very things that used to worry him were eliminated he found himself in stormy waters. Gossip, as Miss Warry had predicted, had magnified the unsubstantiated accusation of the house- keeper, and there was a growing feeling that Sir Hanni- bal in some way was concerned in the murder. Of course, no one was bold enough, or brave enough, to come forward and accuse him in so many words. If that had been the case the baronet might have been able to put a stop to the scandal by a direct denial. But everywhere people were talking about the very opportune death of the millionaire, which had placed a pauper gentleman in receipt of a surprisingly good in- come. Round the tea-tables of spinsters, in the draw- ing-rooms of married ladies, in public-houses, and at the corners of streets Sir Hannibal's character and actions and appearance and past were amply discussed. No one could exactly make out how he was concerned in the crime, as assuredly he had been present in his own grounds about the time the murder had been committed. All the same, it was hinted that if not the actual per- 66 MRS. KRENT'S DIPLOMACY 67 petrator, he was at least an accomplice, and had hired a man to place the block of granite in the path of the motor. More, to make sure, he had instructed his ac- complice to shoot Bowring should the first attempt on the man's life fail, as it had done. The motive for the commission of the crime was to be found in the inherit- ance. Sir Hannibal was notoriously in want of money and had murdered Bowring in an indirect manner to ob- tain it. "It is all nonsense," said Miss Stretton, who was one of those who defended the baronet. "Sir Hannibal is incapable of committing such a wicked deed." She said this to Mr. Penrith, who was not exactly the person to whom such a remark should have been made seeing that he was jealous of the too-fascinating baronet. "I don't see why he shouldn't," growled Penrith sulkily; "any one would do anything for money." "You would," said Miss Stretton with a glance of disdain. "And so would Trevick. Every one knew that he was desperately hard up. Of course you defend him. You want to marry him." "He wants to marry me," she rejoined with a grati- fied laugh, "but I am not quite sure that I will accept him." "Anne, when you know that I love you." "My dear Ralph, you are very nice on occasions, and you are not bad-looking. All the same you have very little money, and your mother is not inclined to sur- render her position as mistress of your house." "She will if you marry me," urged the love-lorn squire. Miss Stretton shook her head. 68 THE RED SKULL "Your mother is not fond of me," was her reply, "and seemed pleased when 1 left the house. I am only a poor artist, and she doesn't think me good enough to marry a Penrith." "I think you good enough. Anne, you must marry me." "No. That is —I can't say definitely at present." Penrith was white with rage. "That is because you want to marry the old man." "Oh, he's not so very old, and he is wonderfully well-preserved. Also, my dear Ralph, he has sixty thousand a year, remember." "Gained by murder." "You have no right to say that," she said sharply. "I'll say what I like, and do what I like." "You brute; a nice husband you would make." "No, no!" Penrith saw that he had gone too far. "You can guide me in any way you like, Anne. Chuck this old buffer and marry me. We'll be jolly happy to- gether." "H'm, I have my doubts of that," she replied. Then, so as not to lose him, for Miss Stretton was a lady who liked to have two strings to her bow, she added, "Ican't give you an answer yet." "I see," snarled Penrith, his healthy red face growing scarlet, "you will marry me if Sir Hannibal refuses you." "What do you mean by that ?" she asked in a spirited manner. "Let me tell you, Mr. Penrith, that I am not a woman to be refused. Sir Hannibal wants to marry me. I have reason to know that," and her hand slipped into the pocket of her dress. Penrith's eyes followed. MRS. KRENT'S DIPLOMACY 69 "He had written, asking you?" "Perhaps," she answered significantly. "At all events, I have not made up my mind to accept him. Perhaps," she cast a cajoling look at her cross lover, "I may become Mrs. Penrith after all—on conditions." "Conditions !" Penrith stared with open mouth. Anne laid a slender hand on his arm. "My dear Ralph," said she in a grave voice, "there is a lot of gossip about Sir Hannibal which I firmly be- lieve to be false. I heard that you have said things against him also. Now, if we are to be friends, you must hold your tongue." "That is the condition, is it?" said Penrith, his face turning pale with anger. "Well, then, I'll tell the truth about Sir Hannibal, and to the police. Then he'll hang, and you'll marry me." "Then you have been saying something against him?" "Yes; because I know that you want to marry him, and I have made up my mind that you shan't. Sir Hannibal is guilty." Anne gasped. "How can you be sure? What do you know?" "I know from a chap called Pol win" "That's Sir Hannibal's steward!" "Yes. Josiah Polwin says that immediately after we —you and I—left the fete on that day that Sir Hannibal came after us on a motor-bicycle." "Ridiculous! You drove slowly. He would soon have caught us up: yet we did not even see him." "No, because he went another road." "Then he could not have come after us," said Anne Stretton, crisply. 70 THE RED SKULL "Polwin says that he did. At all events, he certainly left the Dower House on his motor-bike, and took the direction of the quarries. They are near the spot of the accident "—Penrith sneered as he pronounced the word —"and I believe that Sir Hannibal went there and mur- dered Bowring; then he remounted his bike and got back to the f&te before it was over. He could easily do the whole business in an hour and a half—if not in less time." "I don't believe it," said Miss Stretton, "and I shall ask Sir Hannibal myself, Mr. Penrith. He is my friend, and I won't let him be traduced." The young man sneered. "The future Lady Trevick doesn't want her husband to be hanged." "There is no danger of his being hanged." "Yes, there is; and in any case he'll have to leave St. Ewalds. Feeling is running high against him, and he'll be mobbed if he stops." This was undeniably the case, as Anne knew. She wondered if, after all, Sir Hannibal had murdered Bow- ring. On a quick motor-bicycle—and she knew that he was a good rider—he could have rapidly reached the spot near the quarries where the death had taken place. There was another road by which he could have come, and so have avoided her and Ralph driving in the dog- cart. Long before Bowring could arrive in his car he would be on the high bank able, with the aid of a lever, to topple the granite mass on to the road. And after shooting the man he could easily have clambered up the bank again to run across the moor to the other road, where his bicycle was probably waiting. In twenty minutes after the commission of the crime he could be MRS. KRENT'S DIPLOMACY 71 back in the Dower House grounds exhibiting himself to his guests, and so be ready with an alibi. Things looked assuredly very black against the baronet. Miss Stretton was a lady who made up her mind promptly. She was, as Dericka surmised, an adventuress, and was not scrupulous as to ways so long as she attained her ends. In this instance she was rather pleased to hear of Sir Hannibal's peril, as it enabled her to pose as his friend—to rescue him, as it were—and thus gain his eternal gratitude. He was quite willing to marry her, she knew, and even if he had committed the murder she cared very little so long as she became mistress of sixty thousand a year. Penrith was pretty well off and very deeply in love with her, but his mother was not friendly, and her position would be uncomfortable. Besides, Pen- rith might kick over the traces after the marriage, and had the makings of a brute in him. Sir Hannibal was a gentleman, a baronet, a wealthy man, and had an easy temper. He was the man she wished to marry; there- fore, after the conversation with Penrith, Anne deter- mined to interview the baronet and place him on his guard by telling the tale which Polwin had related to Penrith. Then she would get Sir Hannibal to retreat to London and there marry her. They could go abroad for a few years until the scandal of the crime had blown over, and all would be well. Having thus arranged her plans, Miss Stretton prepared to carry them out. Seizing an opportunity, when she knew that Dericka would be absent, for she did not wish to meet that very sharp young lady, Miss Stretton called at the Dower House. "Is Sir Hannibal at home?" she asked when the door was opened. 72 THE RED SKULL "Yes, Miss," replied the servant, "but he is engaged just now." "I wish to see him. Will he be long?" "I cannot say, Miss. Mrs. Krent is with him." "Oh," said Anne, wondering what Mrs. Krent was saying to the baronet; "well, then, I'll wait. I am going to London, and wish to see Sir Hannibal before I leave St. Ewalds." The servant, knowing that she was a great friend of his master's, admitted her at once, and conducted her to the drawing-room. It was a small apartment, like all the rooms in the Dower House, and had two French win- dows opening on to a small terrace. Approaching the window to admire the view of the beach and bay, Anne heard the murmur of two voices close at hand. Then she recollected that the library was next to the drawing- room, and likewise had windows opening on to the ter- race. A peep round the corner showed her that one of these had been left open, and the clearness of the voices assured her that the speakers were very injudiciously near the window. Anne could hear comparatively plainly what was being said, and, taking her chance, sat down cautiously to listen. One of the speakers was Sir Hannibal, as she recognized his refined and pleasant voice. The other, from the coarse, female tones, she presumed was that of Mrs. Krent. Not thinking that they had a listener in the next room, the host and his visitor spoke tolerably loud. Anne listened with all her ears. If she could have seen through the wall she would have beheld Mrs. Krent seated near the desk, which was close by the open window. That good lady was arrayed in the deepest black, but apparently not liking so sombre MRS. KRENT'S DIPLOMACY 73 a garb, she had smartened herself by adding a yellow shawl and a quantity of silver ornaments. Also, she carried a red leather bag and a green parasol, which con- trasted oddly with the crape on her dress. Her face was redder than ever, and she frequently wiped it with a mauve handkerchief. Sir Hannibal, refined and well- bred, resented the presence of this common-looking woman in his library. But there was no help for it as Mrs. Krent had come on business and was determined to have her say. At the point of the conversation when the voices first struck on Miss Stretton's ear Mrs. Krent was volubly urging her claims for money. "I've been with Bowring for twenty years," she de- clared in her rough voice, "and he always promised to look after me." "He left you a hundred a year," said the baronet smoothly. "That's nothing. I look to you to give me one thousand." "What! Mrs. Krent, and after accusing me" "Sir"—Mrs. Krent rose and folded her podgy hands —" I ask your pardon for saying what I did. I was not myself when I spoke. I am quite sure that you had nothing to do with the matter." "Good! Then perhaps, Mrs. Krent, you will spread that story and help me to regain the popularity which I seem to have lost." "I'm sure I've heard nothing against you, sir." "That is not true," replied Sir Hannibal quietly. "Every one seems to be under the impression that I mur- dered Bowring, and that impression, Mrs. Krent, must be put down to your wild accusation." "I'm sure I'm very sorry," faltered Mrs. Krent, who 74 THE RED SKULL seemed to be anxious to propitiate the baronet. "I only spoke wildlike; although, sir," she added with emphasis, "and I wouldn't say this to everyone, Bowring was afeared that you would kill him." Trevick, who was trimming his nails, did not look up. "Bowring had no reason to think such a thing," he said slowly. "It is true that we did business in Africa together, and that he did not treat me over well. But he has made amends by leaving the money to me." "And folk think you killed him for the money, sir." "They are wrong; I never left this place. Your story, Mrs. Krent" "I'm sorry I said anything," she interrupted hastily; "folks should not have taken me at my word. I'll tell everyone that you have nothing to do with the murder." "Do you know who has, Mrs. Krent?" "No, sir; no more than a babe unborn. But if you want to stop folks' mouths, sir, you can do it." "In what way, Mrs. Krent?" "By marrying your daughter to Morgan. Then the money will come to the rightful heir and you'll be praised." "I would be blamed, if I allowed my child to marry a lunatic." "Oh, no; oh, no," protested the housekeeper, fanning herself with her handkerchief. "Morgan ain't so very bad. He's easily guided, though I don't deny that he has his bad times. Me and Jenny are fond of him in a way. What are you going to do about him, Sir Hanni- bal?" "I haven't thought about the matter yet," said the baronet fretfully, and looking weary. "I am very much troubled over all these rumors which accuse me of the MRS. KRENT'S DIPLOMACY 75 crime. But I cannot adopt the course you suggest. Dericka cannot possibly marry Morgan." "Well, sir "—Mrs. Krent spoke in a musing tone, but her little red eyes glanced furtively at Trevick's face— "suppose you give out that Miss—Miss—I mean your daughter, sir—will marry Morgan; folk would then shut up. I'll do my best to stop the scandal." "My daughter cannot marry Morgan," said the baro- net again. "You can say that she will," urged Mrs. Krent; "only to stop folks talking, sir." "What do you mean?" asked Trevick, and the ques- tion was mentally asked also by the unseen listener. Neither Sir Hannibal nor Miss Stretton could under- stand this mysterious conversation of the housekeeper, who seemed to have, as the saying is, something up her sleeve. She smiled significantly at Trevick's question. "If you'll make it right for me, sir, I'll make it right for you." "Again I must ask your meaning, Mrs. Krent." "See here, sir." Mrs. Krent spread out her podgy hands. "I'm a plain woman, who ain't been well treated. If you'll swear on this," she pulled out a small Bible, "that you'll let me have one thousand a year I'll put things right for you." "Do you mean to say that you know who killed Bowring?" asked Trevick, pushing back his chair violently. "No, I don't," retorted Mrs. Krent tartly; "but if you'll swear to give me the one thousand a year and then announce that your daughter is to marry Morgan you'll get back your reputation." "I don't see how" 76 THE RED SKULL "And 700 won't, sir, until you swear." She held out the book. Anxious to know what she meant, and really in a dilemma as to how to reinstate himself in the eyes of St. Ewalds, the baronet hastily snatched at the Bible. "I'll give you one thousand a year if you put things straight," said he, then added a solemn oath and kissed the book. "Now, then," said Mrs. Krent, taking it back again with a smiling face, "you can say that Miss Trevick's to marry Morgan, and folk will never believe that yon killed his father." "My daughter must not marry Morgan," said Sir Hannibal for the third time. "She can't," cried Mrs. Krent, triumphantly, "for Morgan's married already, and to my daughter Jenny." CHAPTER VII RETREAT "MORGAN married already; and to your daughter Jenny?" repeated Sir Hannibal wonderingly, then his face cleared. "That will certainly make matters easier." "Of course, sir. Miss Trevick can't marry the poor boy, seeing he's my daughter's husband. So you see, sir, if you appear willing to let Morgan, who is the right- ful heir, have the money by marrying your daughter people will say that you are innocent." "I don't quite follow you there," responded the baronet dryly. "However, people will certainly see that I wish to do what is right if I announce a possible marriage. Nevertheless, if such could take place I should refuse to make such an announcement." "It can never take place," cried Mrs. Krent eagerly, "seeing that Morgan is my son-in-law. Give me and him and Mrs. Bowring, my daughter Jenny, one thou- sand a year and the Grange to live in and I'll soon put it about that you, sir, are as innocent as an unborn babe." "The Grange? Mrs. Krent, you are adding to your bargain." Like all ill-bred women, Mrs. Krent easily lost her temper. Now that she had secured so much she ap- peared to think that she could do what she pleased with the easy-going baronet, and rose in a fine rage. "I'm sure it's little enough I ask," she cried harshly. 77 78 THE RED SKULL "Morgan is the son of Bo wring, and should have the whole sixty thousand a year. Why he should have left it to you, sir, I don't know, but Bowring always was a scoundrel. But if you don't give in to my fair demands I'll make it my business to bring home the murder to you." "Nonsense; that is quite impossible." "Nothing is impossible to one who is wronged," said Mrs. Krent, doggedly, "and I wasn't born yesterday, let me tell you, sir. Be my friend, and it will be better for you; get my back up, and "Here Mrs. Krent gasped, clenched her podgy fist, and looked volumes. Sir Hannibal thought it best to temporize. Certainly the fact that Morgan was already married would help him greatly, as then he could announce that Dericka was to become Morgan's wife. By this statement it would appear that the money had been left on such a condition by the dead man, and so any possible motive for Sir Hannibal committing the crime would be removed. All he had to do was to announce the possible marriage, and then Mrs. Krent would appear to state that it was too late. Afterward Sir Hannibal reflected that he would play the patron to the extent of one thousand a year; but he was not very anxious to give up the Grange as he wished to live there himself. "One thing at a time, Mrs. Krent," he said judiciously. "You shall have the money, and mean- while can live at the Grange until I make up my mind what course to pursue." Mrs. Krent nodded, and prepared to take her leave. "And if I were you, sir, I should go away to London at once," she said, seriously. "Why should I do that, Mrs. Krent?" 8o THE RED SKULL reflected that such a course would be undignified, and remained where he was, thinking deeply. His thoughts were not pleasant. He was well aware that if an inquiry were made into his past, and all his doings in Africa with Bowring were made public, that people would be more than ever certain that he had com- mitted the crime. He shuddered to think of the pub- licity of the whole affair, and wondered if what Mrs. Krent proposed would really close the mouths of the people. Ever since he had inherited the property he had been aware of the sullen looks which greeted him when he went down to the town, but it had never struck him that the people would proceed to violence. Yet, when he reflected on the rough characters of the Cornish folk, and their quick tempers, he saw well that it would be best to refrain from going into St. Ewalds, or on to the moors where the quarrymen lived. The fortnight which had elapsed since the reading of the will had changed his life. Formerly he had been poor, but respected; now he was rich, and suspected. Even as he thought of these things he heard in the distance a sullen roar, which seemed to come from the direction of the town. At once starting to his feet, he wondered if what Mrs. Krent had said was true, and whether the quarrymen would come to assault him in his own house, so as to be re- venged for the death of their kind landlord. But the idea was too absurd, and he brushed it aside with a rather quavering laugh. All the same, he wished that Dericka were at hand to assist him with her common sense. It was then that Providence, as the baronet after- ward believed, sent him assistance. It came in the shape of Miss Stretton, who stole round by the terrace RETREAT 81 and presented herself at the window. She also had heard the distant roar, repeated more than once, and from rumors she had heard was not at all sure but what the prophecy of Mrs. Krent would be realized very speedily. It was all the better for her plans, as she could rescue Sir Hannibal and thereby gain his eternal gratitude. "Miss Stretton—Anne," said Sir Hannibal, hurrying toward the window, where she stood with one finger pressed to her lips. "What good fairy sent you here?" "My love for you brought me," said Anne, and step- ping into the room she closed the window to shut out another distant roar like the sound of surf on a rocky shore. "Love?" In spite of his perplexities Sir Hannibal opened his arms. "Oh, my dear, then you will marry me?" Miss Stretton brought out of her pocket a letter—the very same she had carried when Penrith's jealous eyes had wandered to where it was hidden. "You really mean this for a proposal?" she asked. "Is it not plain enough?" "Oh, yes. You ask me to be your wife, but you don't say when." "At this very moment, my darling—as soon as you can marry me. We can go to the church this day, if you like." "In St. Ewalds?" "Why not?" Anne seated herself and, checking the caress with which Sir Hannibal would have enveloped her, she raised a finger. "I was in the next room while you were speaking with 82 THE RED SKULL Mrs. Krent," she said gravely. "I did not intend to listen, but by chance I did overhear a few words!" This was a guarded way by which she hinted that she had overheard the whole conversation. "I do not mind," cried the baronet impetuously, "there will be no secrets between us. You, then, know that Mrs. Krent accuses me?" "Yes; but I don't believe it." "Believe it!" echoed Sir Hannibal in a white fury; "of course not. I never had anything to do with the death. I was here all the time; that is, I walked on the beach after you departed on that day, so as to think of your sweet face, my own love." Miss Stretton had half a mind to mention about Polwin's tale of the motor-bicycle, but on second thoughts she refrained. Explanations could come later. Meanwhile she was anxious to get Sir Hannibal away as soon as possible in case the quarrymen should come up to the house, as a still continued roar told her they would. Sir Hannibal, taken up with admiring her face, and never dreaming of peril, paid no attention to the ominous sounds. "Of course I know that you are innocent," she said quickly; "all the same, people think that you are guilty, and the quarrymen openly say that they will assault this house." '' Nonsense, my dear." Sir Hannibal looked sceptical. "England is a country of law and order. In the wilds such a thing might take place, but here "He shrugged his handsome shoulders. Anne threw open the window, and now the sound of angry voices could easily be distinguished. "Hearken," she said, "they are in the avenue." RETREAT 83 "But the police—the police?" "The police can do very little against an angry mob of quarrymen." "I'll have the rascals locked up," said the baronet fiercely. He was not at all afraid as his courage was too high to be daunted by a riot. "It is ridiculous that I should be accused of being concerned in Bowring's murder. I shall address them," and he moved toward the open window as several large men emerged from the belt of trees encircling the lawns of the mansion. Anne drew him back and quickly closed the window. "No," she said sharply; "it would be useless to argue with men inflamed with drink. Sir Hannibal, listen. It is just as well that I came up. Mr. Penrith lent me his dog-cart for the day; I'll go down and get it and drive round the back road which runs past this house. Slip out and join me, and I'll drive you to the Gwynne Station. There you can board the London express." "But by that I'll admit myself guilty," cried the baronet in dismay. "It's better to admit that than be killed," retorted Anne; "and the quarrymen are in no humor to listen to excuses." "The police will arrest me." "All the better; you will be safe in jail. Come, Sir Hannibal," she added impatiently; "it is either London or prison. Will you come?" The baronet thought for a few moments, and his decision was assisted by a stone which smashed one of the windows. 84 THE RED SKULL "I'll come," he said hurriedly; "where am I to meet you?" "In the back road in five minutes," she said quickly; "don't wait to write to your daughter; I'll comeback and explain. Get away to the back at once; I'll meet the people." Sir Hannibal saw that discretion was the better part of valor, and although it went sorely against his grain to fly he deemed it was best to do so until he could explain his innocence under the shield of the law. He therefore snatched a hasty kiss from Anne, and, putting on an overcoat and a soft hat, went into the back parts of the house, where pale-faced servants were congregated. A word or two pacified these, and then their master slipped out to the back road, where he waited uneasily for the dog-cart. Every moment he expected to hear the sounds of his house being smashed, or to see an in- furiated mob of laborers pouring round the corner to kill him. It was a very uncomfortable quarter of an hour. But Anne Stretton proved to be quite equal to the oc- casion. She stepped boldly out on to the terrace through the broken window and faced the crowd of angry-looking men. These looked surprised when they saw her, and many voices demanded that Sir Hannibal should show himself. "Sir Hannibal is not here," said Anne coolly, for she knew that she was quite safe; "he has gone to the Grange." "We've just come from that direction, Miss," said a rough voice. "He went by the other road, to see Mr. Morgan Bowring.'' The crowd paused. It might be true, and if this wa» RETREAT 85 the case it would not be worth while to risk jail by breaking into an empty house. But one big man, quite a giant in stature—the same who had already spoken— came forward. "You know Sir Hannibal, Miss," he said hoarsely; "tell us if he killed the master." "Certainly not," replied Anne, holding her head very high and speaking with the utmost assurance; "but how do you know that I am acquainted with Sir Hanni- bal?" "You come out of the house, Miss," said the giant with a grin, "and I know you well, Miss. Don't you remember how I found the sketch-book you had lost on the moors?" Anne looked attentively at the big man. "Anak?" she said with a flash of memory. "Yes, I remember you. We talked about Sir Hannibal; you are the foreman of the quarry laborers he employs ?'' "Mr. Bowring employs us, Miss," said Anak heavily; "Sir Hannibal let us and the quarry to Mr. Bowring." "I remember. And you speak better than your fel- lows, because you have been to school, and to" Here her speech was interrupted by a growl from the mob, who were weary of waiting. Anak was their leader, so Anne, seeing that no time was to be lost if Sir Hannibal's house was to be saved from destruction, spoke hastily. "Take these men away, Anak." "They want Sir Hannibal, Miss." "You will find him at the Grange." Anak looked at her hard, and appeared to believe her. With a loutish gesture he turned away and addressed his fellow-laborers. In a few words he pointed out to them 86 THE RED SKULL that the police would shortly be on the spot, and that Sir Hannibal was at his ancestral residence on the moors. The speech had a good effect, for in a few moments the mob of big, uncouth men were running down the avenue again, leaving the Dower House untouched save for the one broken window. Anne followed and found Penrith's dog-cart at the gate in charge of the groom. "You can tell Mr. Penrith that I will bring back the cart in two hours to the hotel," she said. "Don't you want me to come, Miss?" asked the groom, hesitating. Anne whipped up the horse. "There is no necessity. I am going for a drive and will return in two hours." She was wise enough not to mention her destination in case it should be suspected that she had aided the retreat of Sir Hannibal. Shortly she found the baronet, with his hat well pulled over his eyes and muffled up in his long coat. No words passed between them, but Sir Hannibal swung himself on to the trap at once. In another minute they were driving along the almost deserted road which led to Gwynne, a local station some six miles distant from St. Ewalds. Only when they were clear of the town did the baronet speak. "I cannot thank you sufficiently for your help," he said gratefully. "I am only too glad," responded Miss Stretton, look- ing at him with her bold, black eyes in a rather quizzical manner; "but you must think me very forward to come and overhear your private conversation." "As I said, my dear girl, there need be no secrets be- tween us," replied Sir Hannibal eagerly, and would have possessed himself of her hand but that she was holding RETREAT 87 the reins. "Now that the ice is broken between us, and you know that 1 love you, there is nothing you will not know. And our marriage ?'' "I have not thought of that yet," said Anne thought- fully. The fact being that she did not intend to finally commit herself until she could be quite sure that Sir Hannibal had the money. She had no idea of marrying a pauper, however easy-going and well-preserved he might be. "Why cannot we get married while I am in town?" "What about your daughter?" questioned Anne in her turn. "Dericka?" Sir Hannibal waved his hand vaguely. "Oh, she will be quite pleased. She likes you, my dear Anne." "I don't think she does," responded the lady dryly. "However, she cannot prevent our marriage." "Certainly not; I am my own master." "Where is she now?" "She went out to see a friend and said that she would not be back until late." "I fear she will be surprised to find that you have gone." Sir Hannibal shrugged his shoulders. "It cannot be helped, and I daresay she will soon learn that the cause of my flight—for that it is—is due to the feeling against me in St. Ewalds. By the way, have those rascally quarrymen sacked the house?" "Oh, no. I told them that you were at the Grange, and they have gone there to look for you." "How clever you are. My dear girl, you are one in a thousand. I have always admired and loved you." Further compliments of this sort passed between them 88 THE RED SKULL as they drove to Gwynne Station. Anne was certain that she now had Sir Hannibal fast, and looked forward to becoming the mistress of sixty thousand a year. She had some qualms of conscience regarding Penrith, whom she had led to believe would be her husband; but she dismissed these when she thought of the brilliant future before her. On the whole, Anne Stretton was thankful that matters had turned out as they had done, as in this way she had been enabled to capture Sir Hannibal. Not that he was a very shy bird, but it was necessary, as she had frequently found in her career, to make abso- lutely certain. Many a time had she proved the truth of the proverb, "There's many a slip betwixt cup and lip." But she would not have been so easy in her mind had she known that Sir Hannibal, on stumbling into a first-class carriage, found that his traveling companion was none other than Dericka. There she was, com- fortably ensconced in the corner, with a large bag packed away on the shelf overhead. "Dericka?" cried her father in amazement; "what are you doing here ?'' "I am going to London," she replied, equally astonished. "And you, father, why are you going to town?" Sir Hannibal explained, whereat Dericka was suitably angered that her father should be suspected of such a vile crime. All the same, when he had ended she significantly remarked: "It is just as well that I am going to London to see Oswald." "Is that your reason for this secret journey?" "Yes. I knew if I asked you to let me go you would not consent. And I know, also, that Oswald is the RETREAT 89 sole man who can help you to find out who killed Mr. Bowring. I am going to stop with Aunt Lavinia, and then will call on Oswald at the Temple and explain everything." "You should have told me, Dericka," fumed the baronet. "I think not," she answered calmly; "you would only have argued. It has been in my mind for several days to go up and see Oswald, as I have been aware of the feeling against you. But I did not expect that it would take the form of a demonstration such as you tell me about. You cannot return to St. Ewalds, father, until your character is cleared." "And who will clear it, if it does need clearing?" "Oswald will clear it—at a price." "Oh, indeed! And the price, Dericka?" "My hand," she answered, and Sir Hannibal grunted. He recognized that he was in a hole, and needed all the friends he could muster. All the same, he was by no means pleased at the prospect of having a penniless barrister as his son-in-law. CHAPTER VIII AN AMATEUR DETECTIVE Miss LAVINIA QUINTON was the sister of Dericka's mother, a wealthy spinster, who disliked Sir Hannibal as much as she loved his daughter. She also liked Oswald Forde, and was disposed to forward his suit, both on account of his good looks and because the baronet did not approve of him as Dericka's suitor. There must have been some Irish blood in Miss Lavinia, for she was always in the opposition, and would never cease to argue while she had breath left in her spare body. Dericka was very fond of her, and Aunt Lavinia approved of Dericka, saying that all the sense in the girl came from her mother, which remark was a side-slap at Sir Han- nibal. The house of this odd personage was in a quiet Kensington square, where the rents were high and the dwellers in the various mansions well-to-do. Everything in that square went by clockwork, and the Judgment Day would have found the inhabitants dressed in their best bibs and tuckers ready to listen to the last trump. Miss Quinton herself was one of the most precise old ladies in the place—tall, slender and aristocratic-looking. Her silvery hair was worn in the fashion of Marie Antoinette, and suited her wrinkled, oval face with its arched nose and thin lips. She always dressed in gray, like a demure nun, and like a nun she was given to religious works, mostly concerned with an extremely high church round 90 AN AMATEUR DETECTIVE 91 the corner. Walking very erect, with her nose held aloft as though disdaining meaner clay, Miss Lavinia passed for being proud and cold. Proud she certainly was, but not cold, as many a poor person knew how warm-hearted she could be when there was charitable work to be done. But she assuredly possessed sharp eyes and a sharp tongue, and could make herself eminently dis- agreeable on occasions. She chose to do so when Sir Hannibal and Dericka arrived from Cornwall. "H'm !" said Miss Lavinia, kissing Dericka warmly, and greeting her brother-in-law coldly; "so you are here. Why?" "I thought that I would come and see you, Aunt," said Dericka, who knew that Miss Lavinia was pleased. "H'm! Your father has been making himself dis- agreeable again?" "I never make myself disagreeable unless there is a cause," said the baronet, coldly. "You usually find cause," snapped the old lady. "Dericka looks pale, I notice. H'm! Is Oswald Forde the cause of that, or "Miss Lavinia's eye sought the tired face of her brother-in-law. "I've got nothing to do with it," said Sir Hannibal hastily. "Papa is all right, Aunty," whispered Dericka quickly; "don't be hard on him, he is very worried." "On account of that Bowring murder? H'm." "What do you know of that, Lavinia?" "All that I read in the papers. Well, the man's gone, so there is no use saying anything, but I never liked him." "I did not know that you knew him well, Lavinia?" "I knew him much better than you think, Hannibal.