The cigarette decreased while Stokes Corvin pondered. The newcomer was thinking of events at Montgard. Sidney Richland and Barbara Wyldram — the other guests — were likable. Quarley, Maria and Jerome — all the servants — were strange.
Most consequential of all, however, was the behavior of Jarvis Raleigh, which had occurred so shortly after the information supplied by Sidney Richland. The rage into which Raleigh had flown seemed to justify the remarks which Richland had made.
Even now, Stokes Corvin could picture Jarvis Raleigh storming from the library. He could also recall the unchanging expression upon the face of Quarley. What was the servant’s opinion of the master? Stokes Corvin did not know.
The cigarette butt shot from the window and formed a dying ember on the ground below. Again, Stokes Corvin was retiring, a prisoner in his room. His thoughts were on the morrow, when evening would bring Reeves Lockwood.
Would the lawyer’s visit produce some startling outcome? Stokes Corvin, lay motionless upon his bed, was thinking of that possibility.
CHAPTER IX
ONE MAN MISSING
DINNER was ended. A new evening had come to Montgard. Stokes Corvin and Sidney Richland were standing on the side veranda, puffing their cigarettes.
From the distant driveway, the two men looked like a pair of toy figures. Yet there was one who formed an odder sight. Jarvis Raleigh, concealed from those on the veranda, yet discernible from the gateway, was pacing the balcony on the second floor front like a captain on the bridge of his ship.
Unseen, a figure was approaching Montgard. Through the dimming light of day, The Shadow was making his way along the drive, hidden by the umbra of the shade trees. His stealthy shape glided to the blackened front of the big building. The Shadow edged his way to a spot beneath the veranda where Corvin and Richland were strolling.
The men had ceased pacing. They were leaning on the parapet. The tips of their cigarettes formed tiny glows above. The Shadow could hear their voices.
“Quite odd,” Corvin was saying. “The antagonism which Jarvis Raleigh showed at the mere mention of Reeves Lockwood.”
“Yes.” The statement was Richland’s. “I fancy the old boy will be in for an unpleasant visit when he arrives tonight.”
“A likable chap, that barrister,” commented Corvin. “I cannot understand Raleigh’s animosity.”
A pause; then Richland spoke.
“I should like to talk with Lockwood,” he said. “I really think that he should know how much Jarvis dislikes him.”
“Why not speak to him when he arrives tonight?”
“Impossible. We are prisoners here, Stokes. To disobey any normal order of Jarvis Raleigh is to forfeit the privilege of remaining.”
“A doubtful privilege.”
“To you, perhaps; but to me, a sole mode of livelihood. Jarvis Raleigh has made it an order that none of us who live here by the terms of his father’s will shall communicate with outsiders.”
“Do you call that a normal order?”
“I have always considered it such.”
“Possibly you are right, old chap,” Corvin pondered. “Yet I think that you can make an exception in the case of Lockwood.”
“Why so?” questioned Richland.
“Because,” asserted Corvin, “he is the administrator of the trust fund that keeps you here. Surely, he cannot be regarded as an outsider.”
“A fine thought, Stokes! You are right. Quite right. I shall make it a point to speak to Lockwood when he arrives tonight. But I shall do so in a subtle manner. When the door bell rings, I shall stroll from the library. Quarley will summon Jarvis Raleigh. When Jarvis arrives to meet Lockwood, I shall appear as if by chance.”
Corvin laughed. He could not help but see the humorous side of Richland’s careful plan to meet a man whom he had every right to see.
“How long will Lockwood be here?” queried Corvin.
“That is hard to tell,” replied Richland. “Sometimes he stays over night. He may choose to do so on this visit. He never stays longer than a single night. Would you like to talk to him also?”
“It is not necessary. I shall remain in the library. I am enjoying some volumes of Dumas that I neglected during my boyhood.”
“Perhaps Lockwood will come into the library with me.”
“If so, I shall have a chance to chat with him.”
A flickering light appeared at a window high above. Stokes Corvin stared upward.
“Barbara’s room,” informed Richland. “She seemed very tired tonight.”
“Yes,” recalled Corvin. “I remember that she complained of a headache during dinner.”
A FLOOD of light came from the library as the oak door was opened. The blinds had been drawn, hence this opening bathed the veranda with a shaft of illumination. Quarley appeared within the door.
“It is dark now, gentlemen,” informed the servant. “It is time to come in from the veranda.”
“One of Jarvis Raleigh’s orders,” said Richland to Corvin. “We are on a curfew basis in this establishment.”
Stokes Corvin laughed as he flicked his cigarette out to the lawn. He turned and followed Sidney Richland into the house. The oak door closed. Clicking of bolts followed.
The Shadow moved stealthily to the front of the house. The upstairs balcony was deserted. Lights in the window beyond it showed that Jarvis Raleigh had also gone indoors.
Half an hour passed. All lay still about Montgard. Then came the distant throb of a wheezy motor. Lights appeared at the end of the driveway as the local taxi headed in through the gates. The headlights of the old sedan lighted a path among the trees. They did not, however, reveal a tall shape that stood as inconspicuous as a tree trunk.
As the car swung to the circle in front of the house, one of the Great Danes came bounding up. The dog, half growling, half barking, leaped to the step of the car. Reeves Lockwood’s voice sounded. The dog seemed to recognize its tones.
A flashlight glimmered. Jerome arrived and the old lawyer called a greeting. Jerome banished the dog and stood aside while Lockwood alighted. The lawyer spoke to the cab driver.
“You can go back to town,” he declared. “I shall not need you. Jerome can run me to the station in his car.”
“You are staying here tonight, sir?” questioned Jerome.
“Perhaps,” replied Lockwood dryly. “It is also possible that I may make the next train to New York. I shall inform you, Jerome.”
Lockwood approached the door. As he lifted the knocker, the cab pulled away, while Jerome waited only until the lawyer was admitted by Quarley. As soon as the front door was closed and bolted, Jerome shuffled away with the big dog.
Up on Jarvis Raleigh’s balcony, the door was closing. The master of Montgard had heard the arrival of the local car. He had peered from his lookout to learn the identity of this visitor.
In the library, Sidney Richland and Stokes Corvin had heard the knocking on the door. Rising, Richland crept toward the door and spoke in an anxious whisper.
“Quarley will leave Lockwood in the turret entry,” he said. “He will then go to summon Jarvis Raleigh. It will be a few minutes before the two of them arrive, so I must not proceed too rapidly.”
IT was, in fact, five minutes later when Sidney Richland, standing in the corridor that led past the library, heard the footsteps of Jarvis Raleigh and the servant Quarley. He wondered why the arrival had been so long delayed. Had Quarley loitered or had Jarvis Raleigh decided to keep Reeves Lockwood waiting?
Jarvis Raleigh stopped on the step of the center passage while Quarley pulled back the bolts that opened the door to the turret. Reeves Lockwood, like all other visitors, had been locked in the circular entry pending Jarvis Raleigh’s appearance.