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Authors: G. A. Henty

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"I think, gentlemen," the chief constable said quietly, "that after you
have heard what I have to tell, you will have to withdraw the warrant
altogether."

"Eh! what? Do you mean to say, Henderson, that you think the young
fellow did not fire the shot after all? I would give a hundred pounds if
I could think so, but, with Faulkner's deposition before us, I don't see
how there can be any possible doubt in the matter. Besides, I was
present when he gave it, and though it may have been coloured a good
deal by his feeling against young Wyatt, I am convinced that he
believed, at any rate, that he was speaking the truth."

"I have no doubt he did, sir, and I had no more doubt than you have as
to Mr. Wyatt's guilt; indeed, until his brother pointed out one very
important fact, nothing would have persuaded me that he did not fire the
shot. I don't say that it was at all conclusive, but it sufficed to show
that the matter was by no means so certain as it seemed to be. I found
him at the house when I went there to arrest his brother. Of course, the
young fellow was greatly shocked when I told him the nature of the
charge, and declared it to be absolutely impossible. So certain was he,
that even when I told him the nature of Mr. Faulkner's depositions, he
was more puzzled than alarmed. The first question he asked was whether
Mr. Faulkner had been killed by shot or by a ball. When I said by a ball
his face cleared up altogether. His brother, he said, and as we know,
had been rabbit-shooting at Mr. Merryweather's. He would have had small
shot with him, but young Wyatt said that he did not think his brother
had ever fired a bullet in his life. He knew there was not such a thing
as a bullet in the house. Mr. Wyatt could not possibly have known that
he was likely to meet Mr. Faulkner on his way back from shooting, and
therefore, unless upon the rather improbable theory that he went about
with the intention of shooting Mr. Faulkner whenever he met him, and
that he had bought a bullet in the town and carried it always about with
him for the purpose, it was clear that he could not have fired that
shot."

"There is something in that, Mr. Henderson. A good deal in it, I am
ready to admit, but nothing that would really counteract the effect of
Faulkner's direct testimony, given when he knew that he was dying."

"No, sir; still it is a point that I own I had entirely overlooked;
however, that is not now so important. I will now tell you what has
taken place this morning."

And he then related the story of the discovery of the tracks, that
proved that Julian had not gone near the tree behind which the murderer
had for some time been standing, and how, after running in and finding
Mr. Faulkner's body, he had set out in pursuit of the scoundrel.

"I have the two constables outside who were with me, Colonel, and if you
like to question them, they will, I am sure, confirm my statement in all
respects."

"I am glad indeed to hear your story, Mr. Henderson," Colonel Chambers
said warmly. "The lad's father was an old friend of mine, and it was
terrible to think that his son could have committed such a dastardly
crime. What you say seems to me quite conclusive of his innocence, and,
at the same time, is not in any way in contradiction with the
deposition. I give you very great credit for the manner in which you
have unravelled this mystery."

"The credit, sir, is entirely due to Mr. Wyatt's brother. He had formed
the theory that, as in his opinion his brother was certainly innocent of
the crime, the only possible way in which he could account for his
absence from home that night was that, upon hearing the gun fired so
close at hand, Mr. Wyatt had at once run to the spot, found the body of
Mr. Faulkner, and had then immediately started in pursuit of the
murderer. Setting out with me on the search with this theory strongly
fixed in his mind, young Wyatt seized at once every point that confirmed
it, and pointed out to me that the man with heavy boots had crossed the
fields at a run, and that the other had followed as soon as he came
upon the footprints, after searching for them up and down by the edge of
the wood. Once we had got this clue to follow up, the matter was then
plain enough. The search through the wood showed us the whole
circumstances of the case, as I have related them to you, just as
plainly as if we had witnessed the affair. But if I had not been set
upon the right trail, I say honestly that I doubt whether I should have
unravelled it, especially as the snow is rapidly going, and by this
afternoon the footprints will have disappeared."

"Well, as a matter of form, we will take down your statement, Mr.
Henderson, and then take those of the constables."

"Young Mr. Wyatt is outside, if you would like to hear him, sir."

"Certainly we will," the Colonel said. "He must be a wonderfully shrewd
young fellow, and I think we ought to take his statement, if only to
record the part he played in proving his brother's innocence. But where
is the brother, Mr. Henderson; hasn't he come back yet?"

"No, sir; and I own that I regard his absence as alarming. You see the
murderer, whoever he is, was armed with a rifle, or at any rate with a
gun that carried bullets, while Mr. Wyatt had only a shot gun. Such a
fellow would certainly not suffer himself to be arrested without a
struggle, and when he found that he was being followed across the hills,
would be likely enough to shoot down his pursuer without letting him get
close enough to use his fowling-piece. I have sent two constables up to
inquire of the coast-guard men along the cliffs whether they observed
any man with a gun crossing the hills yesterday afternoon, and whether
they heard a gun fired. As soon as you have before you the statements of
the constables who were with me this morning, I intend to take them and
two others and start myself for a search over the hills, and I am very
much afraid that we shall come upon Mr. Wyatt's body."

"I sincerely hope not," Colonel Chambers said; "but I own that I can see
no other way for accounting for his absence. Well, if you will call the
clerk in, he will take down your statement at once. What do you think,
Harrington? It seems to me that when we have got the four statements we
shall be fully justified in withdrawing the warrant against young
Wyatt."

"I quite think so, Colonel. You see, the facts will all come out at the
coroner's inquest, and, when they do so, I think there will be a good
deal of strong feeling in the place if it is found that young Wyatt has
been killed while bravely trying to capture Faulkner's murderer, while
at the same time our warrant for his apprehension for the murder was
still in force."

"Yes, there is a good deal in that, Harrington. If Faulkner had not died
I think that it would have been best merely to hold the warrant over in
order that when Wyatt comes back, if he ever does come back, all these
facts might be proved publicly; now that will all be done before the
coroner."

The statements of Mr. Henderson and the two constables were taken down.
Frank was then called in.

"I congratulate you most heartily upon the innocence of your brother
having been, to our minds, so conclusively proved, and, as Mr. Henderson
tells us, chiefly owing to your shrewdness in the matter. Before you
begin, you can repeat your opinion about the bullet that you pointed out
to the chief constable last night, in order that the point may be
included in your statement. After that you can tell us the story of your
search in the wood."

When Frank had finished, Colonel Chambers said: "This is a very awkward
thing about your brother's disappearance. While giving him the fullest
credit for his courage in following a desperate man armed with a rifle,
it was certainly a rash undertaking, and I fear that he may have come to
harm."

"I don't suppose when he started, that it was so much the idea of
capturing the man, Julian had in his mind, as of seeing who he was. Had
my brother come back with only the statement that some man unknown had
shot Mr. Faulkner, his story might not have been credited. Certainly, in
the teeth of Mr. Faulkner's depositions, it would not have been believed
when there was no evidence to support it. Still, I don't suppose it had
even entered Julian's mind that any suspicion could possibly fall upon
him. I am greatly afraid that he has been killed or badly hurt; if not,
I can see but one possible way of accounting for his absence. Mr.
Faulkner was extremely active in the pursuit of smugglers, and had, we
know, received many threatening letters. If the man was a smuggler, as
seems to me likely, he may have gone to some place where he had comrades
awaiting him, and, Julian pursuing him, may have been seized and made
prisoner. You see, sir, he knew many of them, and, after the affair the
other day, was probably regarded as a friend, and they may hold him in
their keeping only until the man who fired the shot can get safely out
of reach."

"I hope that this may prove so indeed," the magistrate said. "It is at
any rate possible. And now we will detain you no longer, for Mr.
Henderson told me that you were going to accompany them in their search
among the hills. I see that it is just beginning to snow, which will, I
fear, add to your difficulties."

For some days an active search was maintained, but no trace was
discovered of Julian Wyatt, or of the man whom he had followed. From
inquiries that had been instituted in the town, the chief constable had
learned that the man Markham, who had a few weeks before returned after
serving out his sentence for poaching in Mr. Faulkner's preserves, had
disappeared from his lodgings on the day of the murder and had not
returned. As he was known to have uttered many threats against the
magistrate, a warrant was issued for his arrest on the day after the
coroner's jury, having heard the whole of the evidence, brought in a
verdict that Mr. Faulkner had been wilfully murdered by a person or
persons unknown.

CHAPTER VI

A COMMISSION

About a week after the coroner's inquest, the servant one evening
brought in a letter that had been left at the door by a man who looked
like a fisherman. Frank gave a shout of joy as he glanced at the
address.

"It is Julian's handwriting, Aunt," he shouted, and then exclaimed, as
Mrs. Troutbeck, who was on the sofa, gave a low cry and fell back
fainting, "What an ass I am to blurt it out like that!" Then he rang the
bell with a vigour that brought down the rope. "Here, Mary," he
exclaimed, as the servant re-appeared at the door with a scared face,
"Aunt has fainted; do what you can for her. I will run round for the
doctor directly; but I must look at this letter first. It is from Mr.
Julian."

"Lor', sir, that is good news!" the girl exclaimed, as she hurried
across to her mistress. After the custom of her class, she had hitherto
looked upon the matter in the darkest possible light, and had joined in
the general conviction that Julian had been killed.

Julian's letter was written on board the smuggler.

"My dear Frank, I am afraid you must all have been in a horrible fright
about me, and no wonder. I am a most unfortunate fellow, and seem to be
always putting my foot in it, and yet really I don't think I was to
blame about this. In the first place, I may tell you that I am on board
a French smuggler, that we have just entered the Loire, and that in a
few hours shall be at Nantes. The smugglers will bring this letter back
to England, and as they say they shall probably sail again a few days
after they get in, I hope it will not be very long before it comes to
hand. And now as to how I got here."

Julian then related the story of the quarrel with Mr. Faulkner, of
hearing the gun fired, of running in and finding the body, and of his
pursuit of the murderer.

"After a long tramp on the hills he took to a place of hiding. I am
bound by oath to afford no clue as to where that place is, and can only
say that upon my following him in, I was pounced upon by some French
smugglers who were there with him, and trussed up like a fowl. Then
there was a discussion what to do with me, in which the man I had been
following joined. Of course I did not understand the language, but I
could see that the smugglers were in favour of cutting my throat for
having discovered their hiding-place, and that the man himself was,
contrary to what I should have expected, arguing in my favour. He had
been a smuggler as well as a poacher, but although he had murdered Mr.
Faulkner, and knew that I had pursued him for that crime, he undoubtedly
saved my life. They first made me take an oath not to reveal their
hiding-place, and then said that they should carry me over to France,
and would take steps so that I should not return to England for some
years.

"What those steps will be I cannot say, but I feel sure that they will
in some way prevent my coming back for a long time. They can't keep me
themselves, but may hand me over as a prisoner to the French
authorities. Before we sailed the man told me he had learnt that a
warrant was out against me for the murder of Faulkner, and that Faulkner
had declared it was I who shot him. If I could possibly have escaped I
would have come back to stand my trial, though I can see plainly enough
that it might go very hard with me, for there would be only my word,
which would go for nothing against Faulkner's accusation, and the fact
of our quarrel. However, I would have come rather than disappear with
this awful charge against me. The man has given me permission, not only
to write and tell you this story, but even to give you his name, which
is Joseph Markham. He had only been a short time out of prison, where he
had been sent for poaching, and he killed Faulkner simply for revenge.
He told me that he did not mind my getting his name as, in the first
place, he had no idea of returning to Weymouth, and intended making
France his home; and, in the second place, because, although you might
believe my story, no one else would, and even if he showed himself in
Weymouth, this letter, written by a man accused of the murder, would not
be accepted for a moment against him. However, there is no doubt that
the fellow has behaved extremely well to me, and I should be sorry to
get him into trouble over this business with Faulkner, which is no
affair of mine.

BOOK: Through Russian Snows
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