THE WORLD WAR COLLECTION OF H. C. MCNEILE (SAPPER). Sapper
white?" Cartwright looked at him with interest. "I've heard of such cases second-hand, but—Is it a matter which you can pass on, sir?"
The fair-haired man was silent for a moment or two. "Well, gentlemen," he said at length, "you will understand that it's not a thing which I care to talk about as a general rule. But on the condition that it goes no farther, and above all on the condition that no allusion should ever be made to it in front of my wife, I have no objection to telling you what happened.
"You will understand, of course, that much of it has been pieced together by me from what she told me after it happened: I was not there at the time. If I had been—"
His fists clenched suddenly, and a strained look came into his eyes.
"We had been married three months when it took place. Our honeymoon was over—I couldn't afford the time for a very long one—and we were settling into the house I had managed to get not far from Sunningdale.
"It was a nice little house—ten bedrooms sort of size, with a well-laid-out garden and about a couple of acres of rough ground in which my predecessor had planted a whole lot of prize rhododendrons. It had a tennis court and a garage, and the marvel to me was that it hadn't been snapped up the instant it came on the market. We found it by mere chance when we were motoring to look at another place, and the instant we saw it we knew that it would do us, and further that we meant to have it. An old caretaker—a strange-looking old woman—showed us over it, and we found that the inside was in just as good condition as the exterior. Which was not to be wondered at, seeing that she told us it had only been unoccupied about nine months.
"How comes it that it has remained empty all this time?" I asked her, for nine months in that locality is more than nine years elsewhere.
"She shrugged her shoulders and looked more bovine than before. Yes—the drains were all right, and the house wasn't damp and there weren't any rats—she could assure us of that. And the house agents could give us all other particulars.
"So off we went to the house agent. The rent was eminently satisfactory, and since he seemed a very decent sort of fellow I decided to put the matter to him point-blank. 'Look here,' I said, as man to man, 'is there a catch somewhere? I know it's your job to let the house, but this lady and I are shortly going to get married, and we don't want to be let down. And from what I know of the housing problem it's a mighty strange thing that a house of that type, in this locality, should have remained empty for nearly a year.'
"He didn't answer for a bit, but just sat at his desk fingering the plans. 'Are you a stranger to these parts?' he said at length.
"'Complete,' I answered.
"'Well,' he said, 'it's unprofessional, I suppose, but in view of the circumstances I'll tell you. Mark you, personally I think it's the most hopeless rot. It's a first-class property in first-class order; of its type and size it's out and away the best value I have on my books. But three years ago a singularly brutal murder was committed there.'
"'Three years!' I cried. 'But it's only been empty nine months!'
"'The next party that had it after the crime took place moved to a larger house,' he answered.
"'And you promise me that that is all there is against it?' I said.
"'Absolutely all', he assured me. 'You may have any tests you like carried out And then he looked at my fiancee and rubbed his chin. 'Dash it all,' he burst out, 'I got married myself once upon a time. The real trouble is—servants. There—I've let the cat out of the bag. You know what they are: difficult at the best of times these days. But that is where the rub comes. The party I told you of certainly did move to a larger house, but I don't think they would have if they had been able to keep a servant. Silly, hysterical girls—swearing that they saw things and heard noises: you know the sort of thing.'
"We thanked him warmly for having been so frank with us, and told him we'd think it over.
"'If I can do anything for you,' were his parting words, 'let me know. I've got a few possibles on my books, though none of them compares with that one. But if you do decide to take it, I would not, if I were you, get your servants locally.'
"Well, we went away, and we thought it over. It may sound perhaps a small point to some of you fellows—this servant question—but it isn't a small point to us stay-at-homes. And there was no doubt about it—the drawback was a very serious one. So serious that for a week we tried to find something else. But nothing that we saw approached the house at Sunningdale, either for comfort or convenience. And finally, to cut a long story short, we made up our minds to chance it.
"So I wrote and told the house agent of our decision, and in the stress and bustle of getting married, the matter more or less passed from my mind. Furniture I had in plenty, and it was not until the house had been completely repapered and fixed-up generally that I went down again.
"I went alone, I remember, as my fiancee was busy that day. It was principally to get some measurements, and I took down a sandwich lunch with me. The old caretaker was there, and I thought she eyed me a bit strangely as she opened the door, though she said nothing. In fact, I don't think I saw her again until just before I was going, when she came into the hall and stood looking at me.
"'What is it, Mrs. Gulliver?' I said. 'Do you want to ask me anything?
"'So you've taken the house', she remarked quietly.
"'I certainly have,' I answered. 'And a very charming little house it is.'
"She nodded her head once or twice, and her eyes never left my face.
"'What's the matter?' I cried irritably. 'Have you got something at the back of your mind about it? If so, please tell me.'
"'I've nothing at the back of my mind that you would be paying attention to,' she said. 'But that's not saying that I haven't got something there.'
"'Well, what is it?' I said. 'I shall certainly pay attention to it if it's anything serious.'
"'There's death in this house, Mr. Morgan,' she answered gravely. 'It's hanging over us: I can feel it.'
"Well, gentlemen, I can tell you I was furious. Just the sort of damned silly fatuous remark which would scare the average servant stiff and send her flying from the house. At least, that's how it struck me at the time. Now—well, now I'm not so certain. Looking back on the little interview I favoured Mrs. Gulliver with in that sunny, fresh-painted hall, there is one thing that stands out very clearly in my mind. And that was her impassive demeanour. She never raised her voice, even when I became thoroughly annoyed. She just stood there listening to what I had to say, and her quiet, steady eyes never wavered.
"'It's ridiculous,' I cried. 'Perfectly ridiculous. It's remarks like that which make it impossible to keep servants.'
"'Better that,' she said, 'than the other. For it will be a terrible death.'
"'But what earthly reason have you for making such a statement?' I fumed.
"'Maybe it's not earthly,' she answered.
"'Just because a murder was committed here,' I grunted. And then her last remark struck me. 'What do you mean—not earthly?'
"'There are things, Mr. Morgan, beyond our ken.' she said gravely. 'It was my mother's gift, and my grandmother's before her, and in turn it has come to me. Second sight, I believe they call it. But sometimes we know what is going to happen. And we are never wrong.'
"'And who, might I ask, is going to die?' I said facetiously.
"'Don't mock me, sir,' she said. 'No good ever came of that. I cannot tell you who is going to be killed, or when it is going to happen. But it is written.'
"'Be killed?' I repeated. 'Do you mean another murder?'
"'Aye,' she said gravely. 'Another murder. The thoughts come thronging into my mind sometimes, till I have to get up from my chair and go out of doors. Then they leave me. But I tell you there is evil threatening this house and they who live in it. Where it comes from I know not; but always it is the same thing—death. Death by violence.'
"There