The Mynns' Mystery

The lawyer grunted.

“I have traced Mr Saul Harrington’s course over on the Continent as easily as could be, but I did not hear a word about his accident.”

“That’s strange,” said Mrs Hampton.

“Neither could I find that mine enemy had been with him. He was alone all through; and, after spending a lot of money, time, and thought, I am forced to come back and say to you that I must seem in your eyes a greater impostor than ever.”

“You must try again,” said the doctor cheerfully. “The position remains the same.”

“Yes, I must try again,” said the young man thoughtfully. “But I begin to fancy that I have been working from the wrong end. We shall see.”

The dinner passed off without further allusion to the search for the missing man; but it was plain enough that the visitor’s every movement was being critically scanned, the three elders unconsciously seeking for suspicious movements, or words that might indicate their visitor was playing a part, but with the result that they grew greater partisans than ever.

“You’ll join us in the drawing-room?” said Mrs Hampton, as the ladies rose from the table; and she looked direct at the visitor.

“You are very kind,” he replied, “but I was going to talk business with these gentlemen for a few minutes, and then go back to town.”

“You will have plenty of time for both,” said the old lady; and then as they left the room: “I look your place then, Gertie, and acted as your mouthpiece,” she whispered. “Did I play my part correctly?”

Gertrude tried to answer, but the words would not come; and, escaping from her companion in dread lest she would break down, she ran off to the stable to make Bruno her confidant, and ended by bringing him with her to let him lie down upon the grass just outside the drawing-room window.

Meanwhile, the gentlemen were discussing the topic uppermost in their minds, and the result of the conversation was a declaration from the visitor that Saul Harrington must be made to speak out.

“Must?” said the old lawyer. “Easily said, sir; but suppose it is against Saul Harrington’s interest to speak. A cross-examining barrister might do a great deal, but you could do nothing.”

“I don’t know; so much depends upon accident. At all events I shall see him at once.”

“That would be useless just now,” said the doctor. “He is seriously ill, and half delirious at times. You could do no good by seeing him now.”

“Let’s join the ladies,” said the lawyer. “I wish you would not come down here, sir. It seems to me that you place me in a very peculiar position.”

“One for which you will be grateful some day, Mr Hampton,” said the young man laughing. “How hard it is to get elderly people to do their duty.”

They were on the way to the drawing-room, and the doctor had just opened the door.

There was a loud bark, and the sound of something being overturned.

“Bruno! Bruno!” cried Gertrude, as she caught the dog by his collar.

“Bless us and save us, my dear!” cried Mrs Hampton. “Do have that dog locked up.”

“What’s that? My patient!” said the young man, as he entered the drawing-room.

Gertrude’s ears tingled, for this was all new to those present.

There was a volley of barks and the dog stood panting and listening.

“Well, Bruno, old fellow; how’s the head?”

The dog gave a joyful whine, ran to him, and tried to raise himself up so as to place his paws upon the speaker’s breast, but failed.

“Come, you are ten times better than when I saw you last – ever so much stronger, too. Why, the head’s getting all right again.”

“When did he see him last?” thought Mrs Hampton.

“Why, you seem old friends,” said Doctor Lawrence.

“Yes,” said Gertrude quickly. “Mr George Harrington saw me when I was down the garden one day with the dog.”

The lawyer coughed.

“No, sir, don’t do that,” said the young man laughing, as he sat with the dog resting his heavy head upon his knee.

“Do what, sir?”

“Cough in that meaning way. It is a reflection upon the lady.”

“Oh, indeed!”

“Either upon her seeing me one day by accident, or upon her calling me Mr George Harrington. Come, Mr Hampton it is of no use your holding back. Never mind the lawyer. The man believes I am George Harrington, and surely there can be no harm in two affianced folk having half an hour’s chat about a dog.”

The position was most painful for Gertrude, but there was a sudden diversion, for the gate-bell rang, and Mrs Hampton came to her help.

“Visitors! and to-night. Why, my dear, whom do you expect?”

A pause ensued as steps were heard, and directly after the old housekeeper entered quickly to whisper to Gertrude:

“Mr Saul, miss, and he does seem so strange.”

Saul Harrington had entered close behind her, a strange, ghastly-looking object, the more strange in aspect from his hair clinging above his dark brow, and his dress consisting mainly of an overcoat tightly-buttoned about his throat.

“My dear sir!” cried the doctor, as he hurried to his side; but at that moment there was an ominous sound, and Saul seized a chair and whirled it above his head.

Chapter Thirty Six

What Mr Blank Thought

“Quick! Pray! Oh, Bruno, Bruno!” shrieked Gertrude, as she dashed forward to seize the dog – a vain attempt, for stronger hands had already failed to hold the furious beast, who had pricked up his ears at Mrs Denton’s mention of the name, and then, as Saul entered the room, given vent to a deep-toned roar, and, as if once more in possession of his full strength, leaped at his old enemy’s throat.

The attempt made by George Harrington to hold him was vain, but his second attempt was more successful, though it was made after receiving a heavy blow from the chair with which Saul struck at the dog, falling in the effort, to lie prone with Bruno’s teeth fixed in the tightly-buttoned collar of his coat.

“Let go, dog! Let go!” roared George, seizing Bruno’s collar with both hands, and by the exercise of his great strength wrenching him away with the collar of the coat in his teeth.

Then ensued a tremendous struggle, the dog making furious plunges to get at the prostrate figure, growling and barking the while, with the accompanying worrying sound made by a dog half mad with rage.

“It’s no good, my lad,” cried George excitedly. “I’ve got you. Hold still!”

For response the dog threw his head from side to side, making frantic plunges, and ninety-nine men out of a hundred would have let him go, but, after a desperate fight, Bruno was thrown and held securely, his opponent pressing him to the carpet by the help of his bended knee.