Yet, though looked at with some curiosity and reserve by hismore cultivated neighbours, he soon acquired a great popularityamong the villagers, subscribing handsomely to all local objects,and attending their smoking concerts and other functions, where,having a remarkably rich tenor voice, he was always ready to obligewith an excellent song. He appeared to have plenty of money,which was said to have been gained in the California gold fields,and it was clear from his own talk and that of his wife that he hadspent a part of his life in America.
The good impression which had been produced by his generosityand by his democratic manners was increased by a reputationgained for utter indifference to danger. Though a wretched rider, heturned out at every meet, and took the most amazing falls in hisdetermination to hold his own with the best. When the vicaragecaught fire he distinguished himself also by the fearlessness withwhich he reentered the building to save property, after the localfire brigade had given it up as impossible. Thus it came aboutthat John Douglas of the Manor House had within five years wonhimself quite a reputation in Birlstone.
His wife, too, was popular with those who had made heracquaintance; though, after the English fashion, the callers upon astranger who settled in the county without introductions were fewand far between. This mattered the less to her, as she was retiringby disposition, and very much absorbed, to all appearance, in herhusband and her domestic duties. It was known that she was anEnglish lady who had met Mr. Douglas in London, he being at thattime a widower. She was a beautiful woman, tall, dark, and slender,some twenty years younger than her husband; a disparity whichseemed in no wise to mar the contentment of their family life.
It was remarked sometimes, however, by those who knewthem best, that the confidence between the two did not appearto be complete, since the wife was either very reticent about herhusband’s past life, or else, as seemed more likely, was imperfectlyinformed about it. It had also been noted and commented uponby a few observant people that there were signs sometimes ofsome nerve-strain upon the part of Mrs. Douglas, and that shewould display acute uneasiness if her absent husband should everbe particularly late in his return. On a quiet countryside, where allgossip is welcome, this weakness of the lady of the Manor Housedid not pass without remark, and it bulked larger upon people’smemory when the events arose which gave it a very specialsignificance.
There was yet another individual whose residence under thatroof was, it is true, only an intermittent one, but whose presenceat the time of the strange happenings which will now be narratedbrought his name prominently before the public. This was CecilJames Barker, of Hales Lodge, Hampstead.
Cecil Barker’s tall, loose-jointed figure was a familiar one in themain street of Birlstone village; for he was a frequent and welcomevisitor at the Manor House. He was the more noticed as beingthe only friend of the past unknown life of Mr. Douglas who wasever seen in his new English surroundings. Barker was himself anundoubted Englishman; but by his remarks it was clear that he hadfirst known Douglas in America and had there lived on intimateterms with him. He appeared to be a man of considerable wealth,and was reputed to be a bachelor.
In age he was rather younger than Douglas—forty-five at themost—a tall, straight, broad-chested fellow with a clean-shaved,prize-fighter face, thick, strong, black eyebrows, and a pair ofmasterful black eyes which might, even without the aid of his verycapable hands, clear a way for him through a hostile crowd. Heneither rode nor shot, but spent his days in wandering round theold village with his pipe in his mouth, or in driving with his host,or in his absence with his hostess, over the beautiful countryside.
“An easy-going, free-handed gentleman,” said Ames, the butler.
“But, my word! I had rather not be the man that crossed him!” Hewas cordial and intimate with Douglas, and he was no less friendlywith his wife—a friendship which more than once seemed to causesome irritation to the husband, so that even the servants were ableto perceive his annoyance. Such was the third person who was oneof the family when the catastrophe occurred.
As to the other denizens of the old building, it will suffice out ofa large household to mention the prim, respectable, and capableAmes, and Mrs. Allen, a buxom and cheerful person, who relievedthe lady of some of her household cares. The other six servants inthe house bear no relation to the events of the night of January6th.
It was at eleven forty-five that the first alarm reached thesmall local police station, in charge of Sergeant Wilson of theSussex Constabulary. Cecil Barker, much excited, had rushed upto the door and pealed furiously upon the bell. A terrible tragedyhad occurred at the Manor House, and John Douglas had beenmurdered. That was the breathless burden of his message. Hehad hurried back to the house, followed within a few minutes bythe police sergeant, who arrived at the scene of the crime a littleafter twelve o’clock, after taking prompt steps to warn the countyauthorities that something serious was afoot.
On reaching the Manor House, the sergeant had found thedrawbridge down, the windows lighted up, and the wholehousehold in a state of wild confusion and alarm. The white-facedservants were huddling together in the hall, with the frightenedbutler wringing his hands in the doorway. Only Cecil Barkerseemed to be master of himself and his emotions; he had openedthe door which was nearest to the entrance and he had beckonedto the sergeant to follow him. At that moment there arrived Dr.
Wood, a brisk and capable general practitioner from the village.