stepped out on the veranda, and Landon waved his hand at the group of waiting people below him.
Then he beckoned, but no one definitely responded.
“I’ll have to shout,” Ted said, with a regretful look. “Somehow I hate to, – ” the presence of death seemed to restrain him.
But of necessity, he called out, “Doctor Varian, – come here.”
The distance was almost too far for his voice to carry, but because of his imperative gestures, Herbert Varian said: “Guess I’ll have to go. Lord! What can be the trick they’re trying to cut up? I vow I won’t come back here! I’ll eat my picnic in your dining-room, Minna.”
“As you like,” she returned, indifferently. “I hate picnics, anyway. But for goodness’ sake, Herbert, do one thing or the other. If you’d really rather not go to the woods, take your baskets, and we’ll all go back to the house. It’s getting late, anyway.”
“Wait a bit,” counseled the doctor. “You people stay here, till I go up to the house, and see what’s doing. Then if I beckon you, come along back, all of you. If I don’t break my neck getting up there!”
“Don’t go, Father,” begged Eleanor; “let me go. What in the world can they want of you?”
“No, – I’ll go. I suppose there’s a leak in the pipes or something.”
Herbert Varian went off at a gait that belied his recalcitrant attitude, and as he neared the house, he could see the white faces and grave air of the two that awaited him.
“What’s the great idea?” he called out, cheerily.
“A serious matter, Doctor Varian,” replied Landon. “An accident, or sudden illness – ”
“No!” the doctor took the remaining steps at a bound. “Who?”
For answer, Landon conducted him inside the hall, and in an instant Varian was on his knees beside the stricken man.
“My God!” he said, in a hoarse whisper, “Frederick’s dead!”
“A stroke?” asked Landon, while Claire Blackwood stood by, unable to speak at all.
“No, man, no! Shot! See the blood, – shot through the heart. What does it – what can it mean? Where’s Betty?”
“We don’t know,” Claire spoke now. “Doctor Varian, are you sure he’s dead? Can nothing be done to save him?”
“Nothing. He died almost instantly, from internal hemorrhage. But how unbelievable! How impossible!”
“Who shot him?” Landon burst out, impetuously; “or, – is it suicide?”
“Where’s the pistol?” said the doctor, looking about.
Both men searched, Landon trying to overcome his repugnance to such close association with the dead, but no weapon of any sort could be found.
“I – I can’t see it, – ” Varian wiped his perspiring brow. “I can’t see any solution. But, this won’t do. We must get the others up here. Oh, heavens, what shall we do with Minna?”
“Let me go down, and take her home with me,” suggested Claire Blackwood, eager to do anything that might help or ease the coming disclosure of the tragedy.
“Oh, I don’t know, – ” demurred Varian. “You see, she’s got to know, – of course, she must be told at once, – and then, – she’ll have to look after Betty, – where is the child? Anyway, my wife is a tower of strength, – she’ll be able to manage Mrs Varian, – even if she has violent hysterics, – which, of course, she will!”
“Command me, Doctor Varian,” said Landon. “I will do whatever you advise.”
“All right; I’ll be glad of your assistance. Suppose you go back to the people down there on the rocks, and then, – let me see, – suppose you tell my wife first what has happened; then, ask her to break the news to Mrs Varian, – she’ll know how best to do it. Then, – oh, Lord, – I don’t know what then! They’ll have to come back here, – I suppose, – what else can they do? I don’t know, Mrs Blackwood, but your idea of taking Mrs Varian away with you is a good one. If she’ll go.”
“She won’t go,” said Claire, decidedly, “if she knows the truth. If I take her, it’ll have to be on some false pretense, – ”
“Won’t do,” said Varian, briefly. “We’ve got no right to keep her in ignorance of her husband’s death. No; she must be told. That girl of mine, too, – Eleanor, she hasn’t her mother’s poise, – she’s likely to go to pieces, – always does, in the presence of death. Oh, what a moil!”
“Here’s another thing,” said Landon, a little hesitantly. “What about the authorities?”
“Yes, – yes, – ” the doctor spoke impatiently, “I thought of that, – who are they, in this God-forsaken place? Town Constable, I suppose.”
“I don’t know myself,” said Landon. “County Sheriff, more likely. But Clark’s a good, sensible sort. Say we send him down to the village – ”
“Oh, must it be known down there right away?” cried Claire. “Before even Mrs Varian is told! Or Betty. Where is Betty?”
“Betty is somewhere in the house,” said Doctor Varian in a low voice. “We know that. Now, let that question rest, till we decide on our first move. I think, Landon, you’d better do as I said. Go and tell my wife, and, while she’s telling Mrs Varian and my daughter, Eleanor, you can take Mr Clark aside and tell him. Then, – then, I think, you’d all better come back here to the house. We’ll send Clark on that errand later, – or, we can telephone.”
Landon started on his difficult descent and on his even more difficult errand.
“Can’t you, – can’t you put Mr Varian somewhere – somewhere – “ Claire began, incoherently.
“I’m not supposed to move a body until the authorities give permission,” said Doctor Varian, slowly. “It would seem to me, that in this very peculiar and unusual case, that I might, – but, that’s just it. I’ve been thinking, – and the very mysteriousness of this thing, makes it most necessary for me to be unusually circumspect. Why, Mrs Blackwood, have you any idea what we have ahead of us? I can’t think this mystery will be simple or easily explained. I don’t – ”
“What do you think – ”
“I don’t dare think! Isn’t there a phrase, ‘that way madness lies’? Well, it recurs to me when I let myself think! No, – I won’t think, – and I beg of you, don’t question me! I’m not a hysterical woman, – but there are times when a man feels as if hysterics might be a relief!”
“Then let’s not think, – ” said Claire, tactfully, “but let me try to be helpful. If Mrs Varian is coming here, – do you advise that we – cover – Mr Varian with – ”
“With a sheet, I suppose, – do you know where to find one?”
“No, I’ve never been upstairs, – and then, after all, isn’t a sheet even more gruesome than the sight as it is at present? How about a dark cover?”
“Very well, – find one.” The Doctor spoke absorbedly, uncaring.
Glancing about, Claire noticed a folded steamer rug, on the end of the big davenport in the hall, and fetching that, she laid it lightly over the still form.
“Now, about Betty, – ” said the doctor, coming out of his brown study. “She is in the house, – probably hiding, – from fear, – ”
“Oh, do you think that? Then let us find her!”
“We can’t both go. Will you remain here and meet the others or shall I stay here while you go to look for the girl?”
Claire Blackwood pondered. Either