The Mystery of the Ravenspurs. White Fred Merrick

they could only look at her with moist eyes and a yearning sympathy that was beyond all words.

      "It will pass," Mrs. Gordon said faintly. "We all have our trials; and mine are no worse than the rest. Gordon, take me to bed."

      She passed up the stairs leaning on the arm of her husband. Time was when these things demanded vivid explanations. They were too significant now. Ralph crept fumblingly over the floor till he stood by Marion's side. He touched her hand; he seemed to know where to find it. The hand was wet. Ralph touched her cheek.

      "You are crying," he said, gently for him.

      "Yes," Marion admitted, softly. "Oh, if I could only do anything to help. If you only knew how my heart goes out to these poor people!"

      "And yet it may be your turn next, Marion. But I hope not – I hope not. We could not lose the only sunshine in the house!"

      Marion choked down a sob. When she turned to Ralph again he was far off feeling his way along the room – feeling, feeling always for the clue to the secret.

      CHAPTER XII

      GEOFFREY IS PUT TO THE TEST

      The house was quiet at last. When these mysterious things had first happened, fear and alarm had driven sleep from every eye, and many was the long night the whole family had spent, huddled round the fire till gray morn chased their fears away.

      But as the inhabitants of a beleaguered city learn to sleep through a heavy bombardment, so had the Ravenspurs come to meet these horrors with grim tenacity. They were all upstairs now, behind locked doors, with a hope that they might meet again on the morrow. Only Geoffrey was up waiting for his uncle Ralph.

      He came at length so noiselessly that Geoffrey was startled, and motioned to him that he should follow him without a word.

      They crept like ghosts along the corridor until they reached a room with double doors at the end of the picture gallery. Generations ago this room had been built for a Ravenspur who had developed dangerous homicidal mania, and in this room he had lived virtually a prisoner for many years.

      After they had closed the two doors, a heavy curtain was drawn over the inner one, and Ralph fumbled his way to the table and lighted a candle.

      "Now we can talk," he said quietly, "but not loud. Understand that the matter is to be a profound secret between us and that not a soul is to know of it; not even Vera."

      "I have already given my promise," said Geoffrey.

      "I know. Still there is no harm in again impressing the fact on your mind. Geoffrey, you are about to see strange things, things that will test your pluck and courage to the uttermost."

      Geoffrey nodded. With the eagerness of youth he was ready.

      "I will do anything you ask me," he replied. "I could face any danger to get at the bottom of this business."

      "You are a good lad. Turn the lamp down very low and then open the window. Have you done that?"

      "Yes, I can feel the cold air on my face."

      Ralph crossed to the window and, putting out his hand, gave the quaint mournful call of the owl. There was a minute's pause and then came the answering signal. A minute or two later and a man's head and shoulders were framed in the open window. Geoffrey would have dashed forward, but Ralph held him back.

      "Not so impatient," he said. "This is a friend."

      Geoffrey asked no questions, though he was puzzled to know why the visitor did not enter the castle by the usual way. At Ralph's request he closed the window and drew the heavy curtains and the lamp was turned up again.

      "My nephew," said Ralph. "A fine young fellow, and one that you and I can trust. Geoffrey, this is my old friend, Sergius Tchigorsky."

      Geoffrey shook hands with Tchigorsky. To his intense surprise he saw the face of the stranger was disfigured in the same way as that of his uncle. Conscious that his gaze was somewhat rude he looked down. Tchigorsky smiled. Very little escaped him and to him the young man's mind was as clear as a brook.

      "My appearance startles you," he said. "Some day you will learn how your uncle and myself came to be both disfigured in this terrible way. That secret will be disclosed when the horror that haunts this house is lifted."

      "Will it ever be lifted, sir?" Geoffrey asked.

      "We can do so at any time," Tchigorsky replied in his deep voice. "You may be surprised to hear that we can place our hand on the guilty party at a moment's notice and bring the offender to justice. Your eyes ask me why we do not do so instantly. We refrain, as the detectives refrain from arresting one or two of a big gang of swindlers, preferring to spread their nets till they have them all in their meshes. There are four people in this business, and we must take the lot of them, or there will be no peace for the house of Ravenspur. You follow me?"

      "Perfectly," Geoffrey replied. "An enemy so marvelously clever must not be treated lightly. Do you propose to make the capture to-night?"

      Ralph Ravenspur laughed. It was not a pleasant laugh and was mirthless. His scarred face was full of scornful amusement.

      "Not to-night or to-morrow night, or for many nights," he said. "We have all the serpent wisdom of the Old World against us, the occult knowledge of the East allied to the slippery cunning that Western education gives. There will be many dangers before we have finished, and the worst of these dangers will fall upon you."

      Ralph brought his hand down with a sudden clap on his nephew's shoulders. Tchigorsky regarded him long and earnestly as if he would read his very soul.

      "You will do," he said curtly. "I am satisfied you will do and I never made a mistake in my estimate of a man yet. Ravenspur, are you ready?"

      "Ay, ay. I have been ready this long time."

      The lamp was extinguished and list slippers were donned, and with no more provision than a box of wax matches they left the room. Instructed by Ralph Ravenspur, they fell behind him, each holding by the coat-tail of the other. Down the corridor they went, down the stairs, along stone-flagged passages until they reached the vast series of cellars and vaults over which the castle was built.

      There were many of these with twists and turns and low passages; the place was large enough to conceal a big force of troops. And yet, though it was pitchy dark and intricate as a labyrinth, the blind man made no error; he did not hesitate for a moment.

      Well as Geoffrey imagined that he knew the castle, he was fain to confess his utter ignorance alongside the knowledge displayed by the blind guide.

      Ralph pulled up suddenly and began to speak.

      "I brought you here to-night, Geoffrey," he said, "so that you might have the first lesson in the task that lies before you. Listen! can you hear anything?"

      "I hear the roar of the sea, the waves grating on the shingle."

      "Yes, because we are on a level with the sea. There are deeper vaults yet, which you will see presently, and they are below the level of the sea. Our ancestors used to place their prisoners there, and, by removing a kind of sluice, allowed the tide to come in and drown them. You see, those walls are damp."

      They were, indeed. As a wax vesta flared up, the dripping stones and the long white fungi gave the place a weird appearance. Then Ralph dropped suddenly, extinguished his match, and drew his companions behind a row of cupboard-like timbers.

      "Somebody is coming," he whispered.

      The others could hear nothing. But the blind man's powers of hearing were abnormal. It seemed a long time before the sound of footsteps could be heard. Then a figure in white, a fair figure with long shining hair hanging down her back and carrying a taper, crept down the steps.

      An exclamation trembled on Geoffrey's lips – an exclamation of alarm, of admiration, of the utmost astonishment. But Ralph laid a hand on his mouth. The figure passed into the vault beyond.

      "It was Marion!" said Geoffrey in a thrilling whisper. "And yet it did not look like Marion. She seemed so dreamy; so far off."

      "She was walking in her sleep," Ralph said quietly.

      "But