E. Phillips Oppenheim - 21 Greatest Spy Thrillers in One Premium Edition (Mystery & Espionage Series)

“I am carrying out a determination I came to in the winter,” Dominey replied. “Those men are going to cut and hew their way from one end of the Black Wood to the other, until not a tree or a bush remains upright. As they cut, they burn. Afterwards, I shall have it drained. We may live to see a field of corn there, Mrs. Unthank.”

“You will dare to do this?” she asked hoarsely.

“Will you dare to tell me why I should not, Mrs. Unthank?”

She relapsed into silence, and Dominey passed on. But that night, as Rosamund and he were lingering over their dessert, enjoying the strange quiet and the wonderful breeze which crept in at the open window, Parkins announced a visitor.

“Mrs. Unthank is in the library, sir,” he announced. “She would be glad if you could spare her five minutes.”

Rosamund shivered slightly, but nodded as Dominey glanced towards her enquiringly.

“Don’t let me see her, please,” she begged. “You must go, of course.—Everard!”

“Yes, dear?”

“I know what you are doing out there, although you have never said a word to me about it,” she continued, with an odd little note of passion in her tone. “Don’t let her persuade you to stop. Let them cut and burn and hew till there isn’t room for a mouse to hide. You promise?”

“I promise,” he answered.

Mrs. Unthank was making every effort to keep under control her fierce discomposure. She rose as Dominey entered the room and dropped an old-fashioned curtsey.

“Well, Mrs. Unthank,” he enquired, “what can I do for you?”

“It’s about the wood again, sir,” she confessed. “I can’t bear it. All night long I seem to hear those axes, and the calling of the men.”

“What is your objection, Mrs. Unthank, to the destruction of the Black Wood?” Dominey asked bluntly. “It is nothing more nor less than a noisome pest- hole. Its very presence there, after all that she has suffered, is a menace to Lady Dominey’s nerves. I am determined to sweep it from the face of the earth.”

The forced respect was already beginning to disappear from her manner.

“There’s evil will come to you if you do, Sir Everard,” she declared doggedly.

“Plenty of evil has come to me from that wood as it is,” he reminded her.

“You mean to disturb the spirit of him whose body you threw there?” she persisted.

Dominey looked at her calmly. Some sort of evil seemed to have lit in her face. Her lips had shrunk apart, showing her yellow teeth. The fire in her narrowed eyes was the fire of hatred.

“I am no murderer, Mrs. Unthank,” he said. “Your son stole out from the shadow of that wood, attacked me in a cowardly manner, and we fought. He was mad when he attacked me, he fought like a madman, and, notwithstanding my superior strength, I was glad to get away alive. I never touched his body. It lay where he fell. If he crept into the wood and died there, then his death was not at my door. He sought for my life as I never sought for his.”

“You’d done him wrong,” the woman muttered.

“That again is false. His passion for Lady Dominey was uninvited and unreciprocated. Her only feeling concerning him was one of fear; that the whole countryside knows. Your son was a lonely, a morose and an ill-living man, Mrs. Unthank. If either of us had murder in our hearts, it was he, not I. And as for you,” Dominey went on, after a moment’s pause, “I think that you have had your revenge, Mrs. Unthank. It was you who nursed my wife into insanity. It was you who fed her with the horror of your son’s so-called spirit. I think that if I had stayed away another two years, Lady Dominey would have been in a mad-house to-day.”

“I would to Heaven!” the woman cried, “that you’d rotted to death in Africa!”

“You carry your evil feelings far, Mrs. Unthank,” he replied. “Take my advice. Give up this foolish idea that the Black Wood is still the home of your son’s spirit. Go and live on your annuity in another part of the country and forget.”

He moved across the room to throw open a window. Her eyes followed him wonderingly.

“I have heard a rumour,” she said slowly; “there has been a word spoken here and there about you. I’ve had my doubts sometimes. I have them again every time you speak. Are you really Everard Dominey?”

He swung around and faced her.

“Who else?”

“There’s one,” she went on, “has never believed it, and that’s her ladyship. I’ve heard strange talk from the people who’ve come under your masterful ways. You’re a harder man than the Everard Dominey I remember. What if you should be an impostor?”

“You have only to prove that, Mrs. Unthank,” Dominey replied, “and a portion, at any rate, of the Black Wood may remain standing. You will find it a little difficult, though.—You must excuse my ringing the bell. I see no object in asking you to remain longer.”

She rose unwillingly to her feet. Her manner was sullen and unyielding.

“You are asking for the evil things,” she warned him.

“Be assured,” Dominey answered, “that if they come I shall know how to deal with them.”

Dominey found Rosamund and Doctor Harrison, who had walked over from the village, lingering on the terrace. He welcomed the latter warmly.

“You are a godsend, Doctor,” he declared. “I have been obliged to leave my port untasted for want of a companion. You will excuse us for a moment Rosamund?”

She nodded pleasantly, and the doctor followed his host into the dining- room and took his seat at the table where the dessert still remained.

“Old woman threatening mischief?” the latter asked, with a keen glance from under his shaggy grey eyebrows.

“I think she means it,” Dominey replied, as he filled his guest’s glass. “Personally,” he went on, after a moment’s pause, “the present situation is beginning to confirm an old suspicion of mine. I am a hard and fast materialist, you know, Doctor, in certain matters, and I have not the slightest faith in the vindictive mother, terrified to death lest the razing of a wood of unwholesome character should turn out into the cold world the spirit of her angel son.”

“What do you believe?” the doctor asked bluntly.

“I would rather not tell you at the present moment,” Dominey answered. “It would sound too fantastic.”

“Your note this afternoon spoke of urgency,” the doctor observed.

“The matter is urgent. I want you to do me a great favour—to remain here all night.”

“You are expecting something to happen?”

“I wish, at any rate, to be prepared.”

“I’ll stay, with pleasure,” the doctor promised. “You can lend me some paraphernalia, I suppose? And give me a shake-down somewhere near Lady Dominey’s. By-the-by,” he began, and hesitated.

“I have followed your advice, or rather your orders,” Dominey interrupted, a little harshly. “It has not always been easy, especially in London, where Rosamund is away from these associations.—I am hoping great things from what may happen to-night, or very soon.”

The doctor nodded sympathetically.

“I shouldn’t wonder if you weren’t on the right track,” he declared.

Rosamund came in through the window to them and seated herself by Dominey’s side.

“Why are you two whispering like conspirators?” she demanded.

“Because we are conspirators,” he replied lightly. “I have persuaded Doctor Harrison to stay the night. He would like a room in our wing. Will you let the maids know, dear?”

She nodded thoughtfully.

“Of course! There are several rooms quite ready. Mrs. Midgeley thought that we might be bringing down some guests. I am quite sure that we can make Doctor Harrison comfortable.”