Dennis Wheatley - The Shadow of Tyburn Tree

"Nay. I trust not. Yet I count it a doubly dire misfortune that he, of all people, should know any part of my story to be false."

"In the worst event 'twould be only his word against yours! He has no proof; not an iota! Courage, Georgina, courage! I tell you there is nought to fear, if you can but tell your story convincingly."

She drew in a sharp breath. "So be it then. I'll say that Humphrey burst in upon me at dawn owing to a message sent him by the Russian at my instigation. 'Twas a joke, albeit a malicious one, intended as a lesson to him on account of his recent persecution of me. He took it monstrous ill and the denouement coming on top of his gruelling ride, caused him to have a seizure. Is there aught else that I should add?"

"Yes, one thing more," said Roger swiftly. "That weal upon your neck, my poor sweet; where the brute lashed you. 'Tis showing red now, and 'twill be difficult to conceal. You must tell of that blow and, yes—'twill help account for the time we have spent in talking—say that you fainted upon receiving it. When you came to he had already fallen at the foot of the bed, there. You ran to him, unloosed his cravat, and called for help."

"And you? How soon will you reappear to give me the support of your presence?"

" 'Twould ruin all if I returned too soon and was the first to reach you; for Vorontzoff would then regard it as a certainty that I had been here all the time. I'll not delay a second longer than prudence dictates, but must wait until I hear other feet running along the corridor."

"Roger!" she said suddenly, staring at him with wide eyes. "Make K me a vow, I beg."

"Willingly, if it be within my power to fulfil."

"It is. Swear to me that if things go ill you will not make yourself a party to the crime. If the fates are adamant, one of our lives should

still be enough to appease them for such a life as his. 'Twas I who killed him, and. the debt is mine."

"Nay. 'Twas from my blow upon the heart he died; so you ask a thing beyond my power to grant. I'd liefer die from hanging than from shame, and by confessing I might save you at a pinch."

"Then give me strength to fight for both of us. Take me for one moment in your arms before you go."

Stepping up to her, he jerked her to him with unaccustomed violence. They did not kiss, but stood crushed together, straining their muscles to the utmost; so that her arms held his neck as in a vice, and his her body so tightly that it seemed as if her ribs must crack.

With a sudden gasp, as though by mutual consent, they relaxed. He smiled deep into her eyes, took her hand and kissed it, then turned away.

As the door of the boudoir closed behind him she forced herself to kneel again beside her husband's body. She no longer felt afraid but terribly excited; yet her brain was clear and she knew exactly what she had to do. She could feel her heart beating but had no sense of breathlessness. She deliberately counted fifty of its beats in order to give Roger ample time to get back to his room. Then she opened her mouth wide and. began to scream.

Her piercing cries echoed through the lofty room. For what seemed to her an age they were the only sound that broke the still­ness. Fear surged up in her once more. What had happened? Was the house empty or everybody dead, that they did not come? The dead man's face stared up at hers, bloated and unhealthy.

Suddenly, to her stark horror, she thought she saw his eyelids move. Seizing him by the lapels of his coat, she began to shake nun violently, screaming in a hoarse voice: "Humphrey! Humphrey! Humphrey!"

It was at that moment that Vorontzoff entered the room. She did not hear his approach until he was right upon her. Placing a hand upon her shoulder, he pulled her back as he.exclaimed: "Madame, Madame! What in God's name has happened?"

For a second she stared at him without replying. Then she took in the fact that his being the first person to reach her could mean only one thing. He must have been up and waiting in his room, in the hope of witnessing the denouement of his plot to revenge himself upon her.

Flinging wide her arms she cried. "He's dead! He's dead! He told me of the note that brought him here from Goodwood, and it could only have been from you. See what you have done!"

Vorontzoff's dark face flushed. His grip upon her shoulder tightened and he gave her a quick shake. "Say nothing of that; for your sake as well as mine. 'Twould embroil us all in a most unsavoury scandal."

"I have no wish to tell anything but the truth," she flared, now on her mettle. "He entered my room dead-beat from his ride, and finding me alone thought that I had played a trick upon him. His rage was such that he lashed me with his whip and then was taken with an apoplexy. 'Tis you who are responsible."

"He thought you sent the note, eh?" Vorontzoff's dark eyes held hers and she could almost see the thoughts racing behind them as he muttered. "I meant but to repay you and Mr. Brook adequately for the slight you put upon me last night. But if your husband thought 'twas you who had made of him an April Fool I see a way that may save us all from grave embarrassment."

Both, of them caught the sound of running footsteps outside as he went on hurriedly. "You have an English proverb, Madame. Where there is smoke there is also fire. If I tell the truth you must realise what everyone will infer from it. Yet if I say that I sent that note at your behest, intending only to make an April Fool of your husband, 'twill save your name as well as mine!"

Georgina felt hysteria surging up in her. The Russian's attitude was so exactly what Roger had predicted it would be; and his arrival on the scene before anyone else now seemed the dispensation of a Merciful Providence. Fighting down her hysteria she dumbly nodded an acceptance of his suggestion, and next moment found herself the centre of a little crowd. Her father, Roger, Selwyn and old Barney had all come running into the room in various states of attire, and the rest of the household was arriving hard upon their heels.

Colonel Thursby gave one look at the prostrate figure of his son-in-law, then took charge of the situation.

"Quick Barney!" he said. "Send one of the grooms to fetch the doctor; and two of the men to get Sir Humphrey to a bed."

"He is already dead," remarked George Selwyn, who was eyeing the corpse with the morbid curiosity that everything to do with death always aroused in him.

"I judged as much," replied the Colonel, "but 'tis fitting that a doctor should be called without delay."

"He died of a stroke," Selwyn went on. "The suffusion of his face may be largely due to his habits; but he shows all the signs of a seizure brought on either by over exertion or a mental shock."

"Or a fit of rage," added Vorontzoff. "I fear this tragedy is to be attributed to a practical joke plotted between Lady Etheredge and my­self, last night."

Georgina was still crouching by the body, her face buried in her hands. As her father took her arm and drew her towards a chair, he raised his voice and said: "I beg that everyone will now leave the room, with the exception of his Excellency."

Concealing their disappointment at being deprived of a first-hand account of this grim occurrence, the guests and several scared-looking housemaids ebbed away. George Selwyn alone ignored the request and closed the door behind the others. The men had all hurried from their rooms wigless, and his bald, polished skull gave him some resem­blance to a rather benign-looking vulture.

"And now, your Excellency," said the Colonel. "Perhaps you will tell us what you meant a moment back, when you said that Sir Humphrey's death came about through some ill-considered jest?"