Chapter 17 Fenn Hunts For Himself

Nobody knows for certain the feelings of the camel when his proprietorplaced that last straw on his back. The incident happened so long ago.

　　If it had occurred in modern times, he would probably have contributeda first-hand report to the _Daily Mail._ But it is very likelythat he felt on that occasion exactly as Fenn felt when, after a nightof unparalleled misadventure, he found that somebody had cut off hisretreat by latching the window. After a gruelling race Fate had justbeaten him on the tape.

　　There was no doubt about its being latched. The sash had not merelystuck. He put all he knew into the effort to raise it, but without ahint of success. After three attempts he climbed down again and,sitting on the garden-seat, began to review his position.

　　If one has an active mind and a fair degree of optimism, the effect ofthe "staggerers" administered by Fate passes off after a while. Fennhad both. The consequence was that, after ten minutes of grey despair,he was relieved by a faint hope that there might be some other wayinto the house than through his study. Anyhow, it would be worth whileto investigate.

　　His study was at the side of the house. At the back were the kitchen,the scullery, and the dining-room, and above these more studies and acouple of dormitories. As a last resort he might fling rocks and othersolids at the windows until he woke somebody up. But he did not feellike trying this plan until every other had failed. He had no desireto let a garrulous dormitory into the secret of his wanderings. Whathe hoped was that he might find one of the lower windows open.

　　And so he did.

　　As he turned the corner of the house he saw what he had been lookingfor. The very first window was wide open. His spirits shot up, and forthe first time since he had left the theatre he was conscious oftaking a pleasure in his adventurous career. Fate was with him afterall. He could not help smiling as he remembered how he had felt duringthat ten minutes on the garden-seat, when the future seemed blank anddevoid of any comfort whatsoever. And all the time he could have gotin without an effort, if he had only thought of walking half a dozenyards.

　　Now that the way was open to him, he wasted no time. He climbedthrough into the dark room. He was not certain which room it was, inspite of his lengthy residence at Kay's.

　　He let himself down softly till his foot touched the floor. After amoment's pause he moved forward a step. Then another. At the thirdstep his knee struck the leg of a table. He must be in thedining-room. If so, he was all right. He could find his way up to hisroom with his eyes shut. It was easy to find out for certain. Thewalls of the dining-room at Kay's, as in the other houses, werecovered with photographs. He walked gingerly in the direction in whichhe imagined the nearest wall to be, reached it, and passed his handalong it. Yes, there were photographs. Then all he had to do was tofind the table again, make his way along it, and when he got to theend the door would be a yard or so to his left. The programme seemedsimple and attractive. But it was added to in a manner which he hadnot foreseen. Feeling his way back to the table, he upset a chair. Ifhe had upset a cart-load of coal on to a sheet of tin it could not, soit seemed to him in the disordered state of his nerves, have made morenoise. It went down with an appalling crash, striking the table on itsway. "This," thought Fenn, savagely, as he waited, listening, "iswhere I get collared. What a fool I am to barge about like this."He felt that the echoes of that crash must have penetrated to everycorner of the house. But no one came. Perhaps, after all, the noisehad not been so great. He proceeded on his journey down the table,feeling every inch of the way. The place seemed one bristling mass ofchairs. But, by the exercise of consummate caution, he upset no moreand won through at last in safety to the door.

　　It was at this point that the really lively and exciting part of hisadventure began. Compared with what was to follow, his evening hadbeen up to the present dull and monotonous.

　　As he opened the door there was a sudden stir and crash at the otherend of the room. Fenn had upset one chair and the noise had nearlydeafened him. Now chairs seemed to be falling in dozens. Bang! Bang!

　　Crash!! (two that time). And then somebody shot through the windowlike a harlequin and dashed away across the lawn. Fenn could hear hisfootsteps thudding on the soft turf. And at the same moment otherfootsteps made themselves heard.

　　Somebody was coming downstairs.

　　"Who is that? Is anybody there?"It was Mr Kay's voice, unmistakably nervous. Fenn darted from the doorand across the passage. At the other side was a boot-cupboard. It washis only refuge in that direction. What he ought to have done was toleave the dining-room by the opposite door, which led _via_ acorridor to the junior dayroom. But he lost his head, and instead ofbolting away from the enemy, went towards him.

　　The stairs down which Mr Kay was approaching were at the end of thepassage. To reach the dining-room one turned to the right. Beyond thestairs on the left the passage ended in a wall, so that Mr Kay wasbound to take the right direction in the search. Fenn wondered if hehad a pistol. Not that he cared very much. If the house-master wasgoing to find him, it would be very little extra discomfort to be shotat. And Mr Kay's talents as a marksman were in all probability limitedto picking off sitting haystacks. The important point was that he hada candle. A faint yellow glow preceded him down the stairs. Playinghide-and-seek with him in the dark, Fenn might have slipped past insafety; but the candle made that impossible.

　　He found the boot-room door and slipped through just as Mr Kay turnedthe corner. With a thrill of pleasure he found that there was a keyinside. He turned it as quietly as he could, but nevertheless itgrated. Having done this, and seeing nothing else that he could doexcept await developments, he sat down on the floor among the boots.

　　It was not a dignified position for a man who had played for hiscounty while still at school, but just then he would not haveexchanged it for a throne--if the throne had been placed in thepassage or the dining-room.

　　The only question was--had he been seen or heard? He thought not; buthis heart began to beat furiously as the footsteps stopped outside thecupboard door and unseen fingers rattled the handle.

　　Twice Mr Kay tried the handle, but, finding the cupboard locked,passed on into the dining-room. The light of the candle ceased toshine under the door, and Fenn was once more in inky darkness.

　　He listened intently. A minute later he had made his second mistake.

　　Instead of waiting, as he should have done, until Mr Kay had retiredfor good, he unlocked the door directly he had passed, and when amuffled crash told him that the house-master was in the dining-roomamong the chairs, out he came and fled softly upstairs towards hisbedroom. He thought that Mr Kay might possibly take it into his headto go round the dormitories to make certain that all the members ofhis house were in. In which case all would be discovered.

　　When he reached his room he began to fling off his clothes withfeverish haste. Once in bed all would be well.

　　He had got out of his boots, his coat, and his waistcoat, and wasbeginning to feel that electric sensation of triumph which only coniesto the man who _just_ pulls through, when he heard Mr Kay comingdown the corridor towards his room. The burglar-hunter, returning fromthe dining-room in the full belief that the miscreant had escapedthrough the open window, had had all his ardour for the chaseredoubled by the sight of the cupboard door, which Fenn in his hurryhad not remembered to close. Mr Kay had made certain by two separatetrials that that door had been locked. And now it was wide open. Ergo,the apostle of the jemmy and the skeleton key must still be in thehouse. Mr Kay, secure in the recollection that burglars never showfight if they can possibly help it, determined to search the house.

　　Fenn made up his mind swiftly. There was no time to finish dressing.

　　Mr Kay, peering round, might note the absence of the rest of hisclothes from their accustomed pegs if he got into bed as he was. Therewas only one thing to be done. He threw back the bed-clothes, ruffledthe sheets till the bed looked as if it had been slept in, and openedthe door just as Mr Kay reached the threshold.

　　"Anything the matter, sir?" asked Fenn, promptly. "I heard a noisedownstairs. Can I help you?"Mr Kay looked carefully at the ex-head of his house. Fenn was afinely-developed youth. He stood six feet, and all of him that was notbone was muscle. A useful colleague to have by one in a hunt for apossibly ferocious burglar.

　　So thought Mr Kay.

　　"So _you_ heard the noise?" he said. "Well, perhaps you hadbetter come with me. There is no doubt that a burglar has entered thehouse tonight, in spite of the fact that I locked all the windowsmyself. Your study window was unlocked, Fenn. It was extremelycareless of you to leave it in such a condition, and I hope you willbe more careful in future. Why, somebody might have got in throughit."Fenn thought it was not at all unlikely.

　　"Come along, then. I am sure the man is still in the house. He washiding in the cupboard by the dining-room. I know it. I am sure he isstill in the house."But, in spite of the fact that Fenn was equally sure, half an hour'ssearch failed to discover any lurking evil-doer.

　　"You had better go to bed, Fenn," said Mr Kay, disgustedly, at the endof that period. "He must have got back in some extraordinary manner.""Yes, sir," agreed Fenn.

　　He himself had certainly got back in a very extraordinary manner.

　　However, he _had_ got back, which was the main point.