The Hunt Ball Mystery

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The Hunt Ball Mystery

The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Hunt Ball Mystery, by Magnay, William This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net
Title: The Hunt Ball Mystery
Author: Magnay, William
Release Date: November 10, 2003 [EBook #10029] [Date last updated: January 29, 2005]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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THE HUNT BALL MYSTERY
BY SIR WILLIAM MAGNAY, Bt.
Author of "A Prince of Lovers," "The Mystery of the Unicorn," etc., etc.
1918

Contents
Chap
I THE INTRUDER
II THE STAINED FLOWERS
III THE STREAK ON THE CUFF
IV THE MISSING GUEST
V THE LOCKED ROOM
VI THE MYSTERY OF CLEMENT HENSHAW
VII THE INCREDULITY OF GERVASE HENSHAW
VIII KELSON'S PERPLEXITY
IX THE CLOAK OF NIGHT
X AN ALARMING DISCOVERY
XI GIFFORD'S COMMISSION
XII HAD HENSHAW A CLUE?
XIII WHAT GIFFORD SAW IN THE WOOD
XIV GIFFORD'S PERPLEXITY
XV ANOTHER DISCOVERY
XVI AN EXPLANATION
XVII WHAT A GIRL SAW
XVIII THE LOST BROOCH
XIX IN THE CHURCHYARD
XX AN INVOLUNTARY EAVESDROPPER
XXI GIFFORD CONTINUES HIS STORY
XXII HOW GIFFORD ESCAPED
XXIII EDITH MORRISTON'S STORY
XXIV HOW THE STORY ENDED
XXV DEFIANCE
XXVI ISSUE JOINED
XXVII GIFFORD'S REWARD
CHAPTER I
THE INTRUDER
"I'm afraid it must have gone on in the van, sir."
"Gone on!" Hugh Gifford exclaimed angrily. "But you had no business to send the train on till all the luggage was put out."
"The guard told me that all the luggage for Branchester was out," the porter protested deprecatingly. "You see, sir, the train was nearly twenty minutes late, and in his hurry to get off he must have overlooked your suit-case."
"The very thing I wanted most," the owner returned. "I say, Kelson," he went on, addressing a tall, soldierly man who strolled up, "a nice thing has happened; the train has gone off with my evening clothes."
Kelson whistled. "Are you sure?"
"Quite." Gifford appealed to the porter, who regretfully confirmed the statement.
"That's awkward to-night," Kelson commented with a short laugh of annoyance. "Look here, we'd better interview the station-master, and have your case wired for to the next stop. I am sorry, old fellow, I kept you talking instead of letting you look after your rattle-traps, but I was so glad to see you again after all this long time."
"Thanks, my dear Harry, you've nothing to blame yourself about. It was my own fault being so casual. The nuisance is that if I don't get the suit-case back in time I shan't be able to go with you to-night."
"No," his friend responded; "that would be a blow. And it's going to be a ripping dance. Dick Morriston, who hunts the hounds, is doing the thing top-hole. Now let's see what the worthy and obliging Prior can do for us."
The station-master was prepared to do everything in his power, but that did not extend to altering the times of the trains or shortening the mileage they had to travel. He wired for the suit-case to be put out at Medford, the next stop, some forty miles on, and sent back by the next up-train. "But that," he explained, "is a slow one and is not due here till 9.47. However, I'll send it on directly it arrives, and you should get it by ten o'clock or a few minutes after. You are staying at the _Lion_?"
"Yes."
"Not more than ten or twelve minutes' drive. I'll do my best and there shall be no delay."
The two men thanked him and walked out to the station yard, where a porter waited with the rest of Gifford's luggage.
"There is a gentleman here going to the _Lion_" he said with a rather embarrassed air; "I told him your fly was engaged, sir; but he said perhaps you would let him share it with you."
Kelson looked black. "I like the way some people have of taking things for granted. Cheek, I call it. He had better wait or walk."
"The gentleman said he was in a hurry, sir," the porter observed apologetically.
"No reason why he should squash us up in the fly," Kelson returned. "I'll have a word with the gentleman. Where is he?"
"I think he is in the fly, sir."
"The devil he is! We'll have him out, Hugh. Infernally cool." And he strode off towards the waiting fly.
"Better see what sort of chap he is before you go for him, Harry," Gifford said deprecatingly as he followed. He knew his masterful friend's quick temper, and anticipated a row.
"If you don't mind, this is my fly, sir," Kelson was saying as Gifford reached him.
"The porter told me it was the Golden Lion conveyance," a strong, deeply modulated voice replied from the fly.
"And I think he told you it was engaged," Kelson rejoined bluffly.
"I did