The Strand Magazine, Vol. 05, Issue 29, May 1893: An Illustrated MonthlyVarious
General
The Strand Magazine, Vol. 05, Issue 29, May 1893: An Illustrated Monthly
Various
English literature -- Periodicals; Short stories, English -- Periodicals
"'He is gone. No one has seen him. He is not in his room. Oh, yes, he is
gone--he is gone!' She fell back against the wall with shriek after
shriek of laughter, while I, horrified at this sudden hysterical attack,
rushed to the bell to summon help. The girl was taken to her room, still
screaming and sobbing, while I made inquiries about Brunton. There was
no doubt about it that he had disappeared. His bed had not been slept
in; he had been seen by no one since he had retired to his room the
night before; and yet it was difficult to see how he could have left the
house, as both windows and doors were found to be fastened in the
morning. His clothes, his watch, and even his money were in his
room--but the black suit which he usually wore was missing. His
slippers, too, were gone, but his boots were left behind. Where, then,
could butler Brunton have gone in the night, and what could have become
of him now?
"'Of course we searched the house from cellar to garret, but there was
no trace of him. It is as I have said a labyrinth of an old house,
especially the original wing, which is now practically uninhabited, but
we ransacked every room and cellar without discovering the least sign of
the missing man. It was incredible to me that he could have gone away
leaving all his property behind him, and yet where could he be? I called
in the local police, but without success. Rain had fallen on the night
before, and we examined the lawn and the paths all round the house, but
in vain. Matters were in this state when a new development quite drew
our attention away from the original mystery.
"'For two days Rachel Howells had been so ill, sometimes delirious,
sometimes hysterical, that a nurse had been employed to sit up with her
at night. On the third night after Brunton's disappearance the nurse,
finding her patient sleeping nicely, had dropped into a nap in the
arm-chair, when she woke in the early morning to find the bed empty, the
window open, and no signs of the invalid. I was instantly aroused, and
with the two footmen started off at once in search of the missing girl.
It was not difficult to tell the direction which she had taken, for,
starting from under her window, we could follow her footmarks easily
across the lawn to the edge of the mere, where they vanished, close to
the gravel path which leads out of the grounds. The lake there is 8 ft.
deep, and you can imagine our feelings when we saw that the trail of the
poor demented girl came to an end at the edge of it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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