“Do you think that Quarley overheard me?” questioned the man with the spectacles.
“I am sure he did,” returned Corvin soberly. “Take my advice, Richland. Remain here. All is quiet for the present. It is better to await developments.”
“Such as the last one?” queried Richland. “Not a bit of it. I am going downtown, Stokes. Once I am there, I shall regain my courage. I want freedom; I intend to obtain it.”
“Do not go.” Corvin’s voice was firm. “It is not safe, Sidney, to make a single move out of the ordinary. Something is sure to develop that will give us an inkling to the mystery which shrouds this place.”
RICHLAND placed his glasses on his nose and threw back his shoulders. The man made an odd, defiant figure.
“My plan is completed,” he declared. “Nothing can make me alter it.”
Barbara Wyldram had been listening. Rising, the girl stepped forward and placed her hand on Richland’s arm. She added her plea to the one that Stokes Corvin had made.
“Don’t go, Sidney,” begged Barbara. “Stokes is right. We do not know what lies ahead.”
Sidney Richland’s lips showed a frenzied expression. Angrily, the man drew away from Barbara’s grasp. Stepping to the door, he wagged a finger.
“Enough of this persuasion!” he exclaimed. “I am going to tell Jarvis that I am ready to depart. I shall not be balked in my plan!”
With that, Richland turned and paced rapidly down the passage. Barbara looked pleadingly at Stokes as she heard the footsteps fade.
“What can we do?” questioned the girl, anxiously.
“Nothing, now,” decided Corvin, solemnly. “Sidney has gained permission from Jarvis Raleigh. I might go upstairs and request that it be revoked.”
“No.” Barbara shook her head. “Sidney would object; that would lead to a discovery of the truth. We can only hope that Jarvis does not suspect his true purpose.”
“Yes,” agreed Corvin, “and if I try to intercept Sidney at the front door, it would mean a scene in Quarley’s presence.”
“We cannot stop him,” stated Barbara.
“We can only wish him luck,” asserted Corvin.
The girl went toward the door that led to the passage. She hesitated there. Stokes Corvin approached and laid his hand upon her arm.
“Don’t worry, Barbara,” he said, soothingly. “After all, Sidney’s plan may bring results. He had been acting strangely; the tension was sure to break. Let us sit down and resume our reading, as though nothing were at stake.”
“As soon as Sidney has left,” agreed Barbara. “Until then, I shall watch. I want to be sure that he makes an untroubled departure.”
“Keep watch, then,” suggested Corvin. “Inform me if anything unexpected occurs.”
STOKES Corvin strolled across the library to obtain the book that he had been reading. He was standing near the corner of the room when he caught, a low tone from Barbara.
“Sidney is at the front door,” whispered the girl, as she stared from the doorway. “Talking to Quarley. He must be asking him if the car is ready. Quarley’s nodding.”
“What else?” questioned Corvin, mildly.
“Sidney is unbolting the door himself,” informed the girl. “Apparently he intends to let Quarley lock up after him. Sidney has entered the turret. Quarley is closing the inner door and bolting it.”
There was a pause while Barbara watched. Stokes Corvin replaced the book on the shelf and moved toward the door, speaking in a puzzled tone.
“That’s odd,” he said, “that Quarley should bolt the inner door. He should have gone into the turret to bolt the outer door also.”
Barbara raised her hand as Corvin approached.
“Quarley has remembered,” whispered the girl. “He is coming back. He is unbolting the inner door—”
Stokes Corvin was looking over Barbara Wyldram’s shoulder. Together, they stared along the passage. Quarley had evidently remembered his oversight. He was drawing back the third bolt of the inner door. They saw him open the barrier.
Quarley stood stock-still. He stared into the turret entry. He made no motion; yet there was something in his attitude that gripped the watchers.
“Come!” Corvin uttered the order as he stepped past Barbara. He hurried along the passage, with the girl chose behind him.
As they reached the junction of the three corridors, they heard new footsteps. Jarvis Raleigh had come down from the second floor. The master of Montgard uttered an angry exclamation to Quarley.
“Stop him!” ordered Raleigh. “Stop Sidney! I want to talk to him again. I believe the scoundrel has tried to trick me.”
Quarley turned. His cadaverous features were immobile. His hand, as it pointed toward the turret, alone announced what the servant had seen. Stokes Corvin — Barbara Wyldram — Jarvis Raleigh — all three arrived to stare into the turret.
The bolts of the outer door were shut. No one could have departed by that exit. Yet the gloomy turret entry was empty. Sidney Richland, like Reeves Lockwood and Merton Helmsford, had vanished from among the living!
CHAPTER XVIII
WORD FROM WITHOUT
THE next evening found a silent trio gathered at Jarvis Raleigh’s dinner table. Sidney Richland’s place was conspicuously empty. Barbara Wyldram, pale and nervous, kept glancing toward the blank space where the missing man should have been.
Jarvis Raleigh was irritable. He voiced no comment; but his eyes, sharp and suspicious, were quick with their occasional glances toward the two who dined with him. Stokes Corvin, positive that he was the one whom Raleigh watched most intently, maintained an easy calm.
The disappearance of Sidney Richland had created consternation the night before. The discovery of the empty turret had finally brought an outburst from Jarvis Raleigh. The owner of Montgard had ordered Quarley to lock the house. He had told Stokes Corvin and Barbara Wyldram go to their rooms. They had obeyed.
It was apparent, here at dinner, that both Stokes and Barbara were willing to follow Raleigh’s orders. Yet their reasons for obedience differed. Stokes Corvin, confident in his quiet fashion, was biding his time; Barbara, half terrified by the new mystery at Montgard, was too bewildered to protest.
Occasionally, the girl glanced toward Stokes Corvin. Receiving a confident gaze in return, Barbara managed to withstand the ordeal through which she was passing. While Stokes Corvin was at Montgard, Barbara Wyldram felt that she possessed a protector.
“So Sidney has left us!” The snarled comment was Jarvis Raleigh’s first reference to the disappearance of last night. “A meddlesome fellow, Sidney. He wanted to go downtown last night to get the mail. A pretext to leave this house. Well, he has gone. He should be satisfied, wherever he may be.”
“We should be worried about Sidney,” protested Barbara, feebly. “He was one of us; he depended upon our friendship—”
“Be silent!” stormed Jarvis Raleigh, pounding the table with his fist. “Sidney Richland was not welcome here. I am not concerned with what may have happened to him. He is like those others — Lockwood and that detective! They came here of their own accord. I did not invite them!”
The speaker glared fiercely in Barbara’s direction. The girl shrank back in her chair. Raleigh’s gaze turned. The master of Montgard glared at Stokes Corvin.
“Well?” Raleigh’s voice was testy. “What have you to say? Are you worrying about that cur, Sidney Richland?”
“Not at all,” replied Corvin, quietly. “The mail is my concern. Sidney went out to procure it last night; he has not returned with it.”
“Don’t worry about the mail,” Jarvis Raleigh cackled. “We shall receive a double batch of it. I told Quarley to get it back here before we had finished dinner.”