The pioneer express. [volume] (Pembina, Dakota [N.D.]) 1883-1928, 1909-10-15
CHAPTER XIII.


This woman. whose passionate de-
nunciation Of him on the stage Of the
theatre seemed in a moment to have
mined the ground under his feet, had
seen him on the night of Philips
death!
The very unexpectedness Of her &C.
cusing words had taken him unawares.
He had never dreamed that she could
have seen him on that night when
startled by her appearance on the
scene Of his crime a moment after he
had fired the shot, he had crouched
in hiding behind that great monolith
She had givel- no sign of having seen
him-probably. as he realized now, in
her half-dellrious state she had hard
ly been conscious of the face peering
from its hiding-place, that must never.
theless have unconsciously imprinted
itself on her mind; and though Bon
holt Hume had avoided her since, he
had felt treasured that she could not
have seen him.
Would her story be believed?
In his room at the hotel that night,
lying awake almost till dawn, unable
to sleep, he had debated that ques-
ton: would her story be listened to?
Surely her long silence would help
to discredit this wild story-and Mat
thew Bland, who knew so much, who,
if he spoke, could put a rope about
his neck, would be safe out of the
country, out Of reach. If only that
revolver had not been identified as
his; that would strengthen Olive Van
stones story, of course. Though he
had strenuously denied knowledge of
how it had come to be in the river,
had denied having seen the weapon
for months, he was far from sure that
the police believed him. He had won.
dered for days If he we're not being
kept under surveillance.
What was he to do? That recurring
question beat again and again across
his mind, through those long night
hours when sleep would not come.
Now he decided upon instant flight,
now he determined to brave it out,
since with Bland out of reach Of ques.
lions there was only an hysterical
woman's word. Was not his word as
good as hers?
Not until the dawn was breaking
did sleep come to the tortured man,
broken, troubled sleep Of an hour or
two. When he rose. looking horribly
i'll and haggard, Bonholt Hume was
still in the grip Of indecision. Fear
was at his elbow like tangible pres
ence. whispering panic-counsels of
fight.
But he had little money about him,
and fight would bring suspicion to a
head: there would be an instant hue
and cry.
At last he decided that he must re-
turn home and put a bold front on it.
Matthew Bland would be already on.
the sea; this woman's uncorroborated
story was not proof. Her very ad-
mission that she was on the scene of
the crime would look suspicious. He
must return to Wildfell for the pres
ent, at any rate; this would give him
the opportunity Of getting money. to
be ready for flight at a moments no.
tice. For the present, even If there
was suspicion, he told himself there
could be no proof.
1t was late in the day when Ronho,t
Hume reached the Old Hall. He had
not gone to Fellsgarth Station-his
nerve had failed him: he had driven in
cab from station FIVE miles distant.
AS the servant opened the door he
v,,t IN kr1vS 90
troll his voice.
"Has anyone called whilst I've been
away"
Eyes, sir; the police-superintendent
from Fellsgarth. He asked when you
would be returning. No one else. sir.
There are some letters on the library
table,"
Why had the superintendent called
The words had sent a stab Of fear
through the guilty man, whose nerves
were on the rack. He walked unstead.
lily into the library and dropped heavi
/ ly into chair.
Presently he rose and walked over
to mirror on the wall, as the thought
came suddenly to him that the servant
had stared curiously at him as she
opened the door. In the gathering
dusk Of the room the white. haunted
face looked back It him from the
g!ass:-a changed, very different face
from the cherubic, benevolent coun
tenance that had been so well-knowr
and popular in the village. The sigh,
Of his reflection in the glass startled
him.
He crossed the room and dropped
into his chair again. 4
Why had the superintendent called
| Outside the long. open French win
Gows the dusk was closing In over thu
wooded grounds; shadows were creep
ing out from the corners Of the room
a He had always hated this house Il
the dusk since Philips death; had a
ways had the lamps lighted early. H,
struck match with impatient. nerve
less fingers. crossing overt the grea
i brass standard lamp. AZ the mate!
famed up his eyes fell On the rte .
setters that had come for him durinl
a.