Miss Arnott's Marriage
Copyright© 2024 by Richard Marsh
Chapter 15: Cooper’s Spinney
Not till the Friday following was the dead body discovered. And then in somewhat singular fashion.
A young gamekeeper was strolling through the forest with his dog. The dog, a puppy, strayed from his side. He did not notice that it had done so till he heard it barking. When he whistled it came running up to him with something in its mouth--a brown billycock hat. The creature was in a state of excitement. On his taking the hat from it, it ran back in the direction it had come, barking as it went. Puzzled by its behaviour, curious as to how it had found the hat, he followed to where the dead man lay beneath the beech tree.
He thought at first that it was some stranger who, having trespassed and lighted on a piece of open ground, had taken advantage of the springy turf to enjoy a nap. It was only after he had called to him three times, and, in spite, also, of the dog’s persistent barking, had received no answer, that he proceeded to examine more closely into the matter. Then he saw not only that the man was dead, but that his clothing was stiff with coagulated blood. There had been a violent thunderstorm the night before. The rain had evidently come drenching down on the silent sleeper, but it had not washed out that blood.
Clarke was a country bumpkin, only just turned eighteen. When it began to break on his rustic intelligence that, in all probability, he was looking down on the victim of some hideous tragedy, he was startled out of his very few wits. He had not the faintest notion what he ought to do. He only remembered that the great house was the nearest human habitation. When he had regained sufficient control of his senses, he ran blindly off to it. A footman, seeing him come staggering up the steps which led to the main entrance, came out to inquire what he meant by such a glaring breach of etiquette.
“What are you doing here? This isn’t the place for you. Go round to the proper door. What’s the matter with you? Do you hear, what’s up?”
“There--there’s a man in Cooper’s Spinney!”
“Well! what of it? That’s none of our business.”
“He’s--he’s dead.”
“Dead? Who’s dead? What do you mean?”
The hobbledehoy broke into a fit of blubbering.
“They’ve--they’ve killed him,” he blubbered.
“Killed him? Who’s killed him? What are you talking about? Stop that noise. Can’t you talk sense?”
Day, the butler, crossing the hall, came out to see what was the cause of the to-do. At any moment people might call. They would please to find this senseless gawk boohooing like a young bull calf. Day and the footman between them tried to make head or tail of the fellow’s blundering story. While they were doing so Mrs Plummer appeared in the doorway.
“Day, what is the matter here? What is the meaning of this disturbance?”
“I can’t quite make out, but from what this young man says it appears that he’s seen someone lying dead in Cooper’s Spinney. So far as I can understand the young man seems to think that he’s been murdered.”
Mrs Plummer started back, trembling so violently that she leaned against the wall, as if in want of its support.
“Murdered? He’s not been murdered! It’s a lie!”
Day, after one glance at her, seemed to avoid looking in her direction.
“As to that, madam, I can say nothing. The young man doesn’t seem to be too clear-headed. I will send someone at once and have inquiries made.”
Shortly it was known to all the house that young Clarke’s story was not a lie. A horse was put into a trap, the news was conveyed to the village, the one policeman brought upon the scene. When Miss Arnott returned with her motor it was easy enough for her to see that at last the air was stirred.
“Has anything happened?” she inquired of the footman who came to superintend her descent from the motor.
“I am afraid there has--something very unpleasant.”
“Unpleasant! How?”
“It appears that a man has been found dead in Cooper’s Spinney--murdered, cut to pieces, they do say.
“In Cooper’s Spinney? Cut to pieces?” She paused, as if to reflect. “Did you say cut to pieces? Surely there’s some mistake.”
“I only know what they say, miss. Granger’s up there now.”
“Granger?”
“The policeman, miss. Now I’m told they’ve sent for a doctor.”
A second footman handed her an envelope as she entered the hall. She saw that “Oak Dene” was impressed in scarlet letters on the flap.
“When did this come?”
“One of Mr Morice’s grooms brought it soon after you went out.”
She tore the envelope open, and there and then read the note which it contained. It had no preamble, it simply ran, --
“Why have you not acted on my suggestion and gone back to Lake Como or farther?
“At any moment it may be too late! Don’t you understand?
“When I think of what may be the consequences of delay I feel as if I were going mad. I shall go mad if you don’t go. I don’t believe that I have slept an hour since.
“Do as I tell you--go! H. M.”
Then at the bottom two words were added, --
“Burn this.”
As she was reading it a second time Mrs Plummer came into the hall, white and shaky.
“Have you heard the dreadful news?”
She asked the question in a kind of divided gasp, as if she were short of breath. Miss Arnott did not answer for a moment. She fixed her glance on the elder lady, as if she were looking not at, but through her. Then she put a question in return.
“Where is Cooper’s Spinney?”
Had the girl hauled at her a volley of objurgations Mrs Plummer could not have seemed more distressed.
“Cooper’s Spinney!” she exclaimed. “Why do you ask me? How should I know?”
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