The Bittermeads Mystery (1922) by E. R. Punshon

Author:E. R. Punshon [Punshon, E. R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Mystery & Detective, Traditional, Historical
ISBN: 9781404300415
Google: zbeIEAAAQBAJ
Amazon: 1404300414
Publisher: DigiCat
Published: 2002-01-28T21:00:00+00:00

"ELLA CAYLEY."

Was that, then, the lure which had brought John Clive to meet his death? Was this the bait that had made him disregard the warnings he had received, and come alone to so quiet and solitary a spot?

Dunn had a moment of quick envy of him; he lay so quiet and still in the warm sunshine, with nothing to trouble or distress him any more for ever.

Then, stumblingly and heavily, Dunn turned an went away, and his eyes were very hard, his bearded face set like iron.

Like a man in a dream, or one obsessed by some purpose before which all other things faded into nothingness, he went his way, the way Ella had taken in her flight - through the wood, through the spinney to the public foot-path, and then out on the road that led to Bittermeads.

When he entered the garden there, he saw Ella sitting quietly on a deck-chair close to her mother, quietly busy with some fancy work.

He could not believe it; he stood watching in bewilderment, appalled and wondering, watching her white hands flashing busily to and fro, hearing the soft murmur of her voice as now and then she addressed some remark to her mother, who nodded drowsily in the sunshine over a book open on her knees.

Ella was dressed all in white; she had flung aside her hat, and the quiet breeze played in her fair hair, and stirred gently a stray curl that had escaped across her broad low brow.

The picture was one of gentleness and peace and an innocence that thought no wrong, and yet with his own eyes he had seen her not an hour ago fleeing with hurried steps and fearful looks from the spot where lay a murdered man.

Somewhat unsteadily, for he felt so little master of himself, it was as though he had no longer even control of his own limbs, Dunn stumbled forward, and Ella looked up and saw him, and saw also that he was looking at her very strangely.

She rose and came towards him, her needlework still in her hands.

"What is the matter?" she said in a voice of some concern. "Are you ill?"

"No," he answered. "No. I've been looking for Mr. Clive."

"Have you?" she said, a little surprised apparently, but in no way flustered or disturbed. "Did you find him?"

Dunn did not answer, for indeed he could not, and she said again:

"Did you find him?"

Still he made no answer, for it seemed to him those four words were the most awful that any one had ever uttered since the beginning of the world.

"What is the matter?" she said again. "Is anything the matter?"

"Oh, no, no," he said, and he gave himself a little shake like a man wakening from deep sleep and trying to remember where he was.

"Well, then," she said.

"I found Mr. Clive," he said hardly and abruptly. And he repeated again: "Yes, I found him."

They remained standing close together and facing each other, and he saw her as through a

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