The Ghost Of The Manor

CHAPTER XX THE WARNING

JASPER DELTHERN was standing at the open doorway of the great reception hall. The huge apartment was illuminated by its long rows of flickering candles that extended from the bottom of the balcony. The candelabrum on the table was also aglow.

Holley, the ex-chauffeur, approached the master of the Manor. He announced a visitor.

“Police Chief Gorson, sir.”

“Show him in,” ordered Jasper.

Holley went away and returned in company with Sidney Gorson. He brought the police chief to the spot where Jasper was standing. Jasper turned, shook hands with Gorson, and swept his other arm toward the room.

“Splendid sight, isn’t it?” he questioned.

“Yes,” agreed Gorson. “What’s the idea of all the lights?”

“Family conference,” explained Jasper. “Our old Delthern tradition, chief. You know what I told you last night. Ghosts of our ancestors—”

Jasper laughed as he broke the sentence, thus intimating his disbelief in supernatural forces. He spoke again, in a matter-of-fact tone, while he watched the flickering candles in feigned fascination.

“I called you about Terwiliger,” he said. “Have you heard from him today?”

“No,” returned Gorson. “That’s why I was anxious to get here after I learned that you wanted to see me. What’s it about? Where is he?”

“He left this morning,” said Jasper calmly. “He didn’t tell me where he was going. He merely said that he had gained a very definite clew. He asked me to call you and arrange an appointment in the study after he came back here tonight.”

“That’s odd,” observed Gorson.

“Not at all,” returned Jasper. “You remember what he said last night? That he would come into that room while both of us were together there, to lay the evidence before us?”

“Yes. He said he would get the goods on the man behind these murders.”

“Exactly. Well, that was why he was so mysterious this morning. He wants to finish the job in a dramatic fashion. He seemed very confident when he left.

“I had planned a family conference for tonight. My cousin, Marcia Wardrop, is at home. My other cousin, Warren Barringer, will be here shortly. I expect our lawyer, Farman, at nine thirty.

“Inasmuch as we will be engaged in this room, discussing affairs of the estate, I thought it best for you to be here in case Terwiliger comes. You can wait for him in the living room. He stated that he would arrive around nine o’clock.”

As Jasper concluded his statement, there was a knock at the front door. Both men stepped into the hallway, Jasper remarking that Horatio Farman usually came by that little-used route. Instead of the attorney, however, Holley admitted Warren Barringer.

“Ah! My cousin!” greeted Jasper, stepping forward eagerly to meet the visitor.

HE introduced Warren to Police Chief Gorson, and the three went back into the huge reception hall. Warren expressed his admiration of the great apartment.

“That’s right,” recalled Jasper. “You were never in here before, were you, Warren? This was grandfather’s show place — this room. We held a meeting here shortly after his death; before you arrived home from abroad.”

Warren nodded. Without looking toward his cousin, he was noting the change evidenced by Jasper’s voice. The black sheep of the Deltherns was making a great effort to display a white fleece, Warren decided.

Police Chief Gorson was walking about the reception hall, studying the furnishings and looking up toward the whispering gallery. Jasper called to him from the door.

“Warren and I are going up to the study,” he informed the police chief. “We will come down when Mr. Farman arrives. If Terwiliger shows up in the meantime, come on up to the study.”

In the hallway, Jasper Delthern beckoned to Warren, and started up the stairway. Before Warren could follow him, a hand pressed against his arm, and he turned to face Marcia Wardrop. The girl had come from the living room.

She held her forefinger to her lips as Warren was about to speak. Then, in a quick whisper, she spoke. Her words seemed to be prompted by a strange intuition — a woman’s knowledge that something must be wrong.

“Be careful,” warned the girl. “You were here before when trouble occurred. When Winstead died — when Humphrey and Wellington were killed—”

Warren stared at the girl in real amazement. He had met Marcia the night that he had visited Winstead, but he had no idea that the girl knew of the visit on the night of double murder. Was this a trick to trap him? A look at Marcia’s face convinced him that it was not. The girl’s countenance was very pale and worried.

“Stay here,” she added. “Do not go up with Jasper. I am afraid — for you — because I believe in you—”

Marcia did not complete the sentence. She was watching the stairs as she spoke. Seeing Jasper turn to glance back, Marcia managed to smile as she spoke in a louder tone.

“I am certainly pleased to meet you,” said she. “You must come here often, Cousin Warren.”

Taking the cue, Warren responded in like tone. Jasper pounded down the stairs, grinning in pleased fashion as he witnessed the meeting.

“Our cousin,” he said to Warren. “Marcia Wardrop. I see that you have introduced yourselves. Marcia will be with us later, after Farman arrives. Let us go up to the study, Warren.”

“You will excuse me?” Warren asked Marcia.

The girl nodded; but in her eyes was a pleading look that urged Warren not to go with Jasper. The gaze turned to a positive warning as Warren gave a very slight negative shake of his head.

IN spite of Marcia’s plea, Warren was determined to go to the study. As he followed Jasper up the stairs, Warren shook off the first effects of Marcia’s warning. Somehow the girl had known that he had been here the second night; naturally, she was worried now.

But Warren could not help but wonder whether her concern was entirely for him. How could the girl know that he was innocent. Was it not logical for her to think that he might be the murderer; that he was stalking Jasper as new quarry?

These confusing thoughts made Warren weaken as he reached the landing. Although he was not superstitious, he felt a sense of awe as he neared the room where each of his visits had marked a prelude to sudden death.

The thought of Police Chief Gorson was the reassuring impression that made him continue on his way. He was going alone with a man whom he believed to be a murderer. But there were people in the house tonight — among them Newbury’s principal officer of the law. In addition, Warren was forewarned regarding Jasper Delthern; and he had heard Clark Brosset’s logical reasons why Jasper would attempt no crime tonight.

Warren’s qualms had vanished when Jasper closed and locked the door of the study. This room of death did not seem overly sinister tonight. Jasper, seating himself in the big chair behind the mammoth desk, looked entirely different from either of his elder brothers.

Warren Barringer took a chair and stared directly toward his cousin. He noticed a serious expression upon Jasper Delthern’s face. It was then that Warren sensed the importance of this conference.

The new proprietor of Delthern Manor had something startling to discuss. That was apparent from his first words; and as Warren Barringer listened, he began to realize that he should have heeded Marcia Wardrop’s warning.