Lonesome Road by Patricia Wentworth Read Free Book Online Page A

something between a sob and a sniff.
    “You won’t be warned, Miss Rachel. You’re angry because I try to warn you. Not tonight—and tomorrow it’ll be not today, and so it’ll go on until it’s too late. Then there’ll be nothing left for me but to go and throw myself over the cliff.”
    “Oh, Louie!”
    “Don’t you think I’d do it? Don’t you know I’d do it if harm was to come to you, Miss Rachel?”
    Rachel Treherne got up.
    “Louie, I really am too tired for this sort of thing tonight. Just go and call Neusel, then go to bed.”
    To her relief, Louisa obeyed. Neusel arrived with all the delirious excitement of one who achieves reunion with the beloved object after incredible exertions. He tore about the room, uttered several ear-piercing barks, dragged all the bedding out of his basket, and finally flung himself down upon his back on the hearthrug, where he abandoned himself to an ecstasy of wriggling punctuated by short screams.
    “Like as not he’ll be sick in the night,” said Louisa.
    Rachel went down on her knees and gathered him up. Here at least was one who gave all and demanded nothing in return. Neusel laid his head upon her shoulder, gazed at her with melting brown eyes, and then with a sudden wriggle was out of her arms and sniffing eagerly.
    “What is it, Noisy?” said Rachel.
    He was standing quite still now about a yard away, tail and flanks quivering, ears pricked, and eyes intent. At the sound of her voice he threw her a rapid glance and whined.
    “Noisy, what is it?”
    He whined again, snuffed, and ran to the bed, where he stood on his hind legs and pulled at the bedclothes.
    Rachel got up and began to collect his bedding.
    “Certainly not!” she said. “You don’t sleep on my bed, you little wretch. Come along, Noisy—you’ve got a lovely basket of your own.” She patted it invitingly as she spoke.
    But Neusel had begun to bark at the top of his voice. She turned, to see Louisa on the far side of the bed. She had an odd startled look on her face.
    “There’s something wrong, Miss Rachel.”
    Rachel said, “Nonsense!” But the dog was leaping, yelping, barking. As she spoke, he tore at the sheet with his teeth, and barked, and tore again.
    Louisa Barnet took hold of the bedclothes in her strong bony hands and strjpped them back—eiderdown, blankets, and upper sheet. They came down on the carpet with a soft thud. She let them fall, and sprang back with a scream, and a “Lord have mercy!”
    Rachel did not scream, but she turned cold from head to foot. At the bottom of the stripped bed lay her new hot water bottle, green to match the furnishings. But on either side of it coiled something that was not green, but brown. She saw one of the coils move and a flat head rise a little way. Neusel with a flying leap landed at the pillow end of the bed. Louisa screamed again.
    Neusel sprang in, bit savagely and sprang back—and in and back again, teeth clicking, every movement swift and deadly as a snake’s own. It was all over in the time it would take to draw half a dozen breaths, but Rachel did not breathe at all. At least she thought she had not breathed until Neusel jumped down and ran to her, eyes sparkling with pride. Then she went down on her knees to look him over—because if he had been bitten—her dear little Noisy—
    She looked up, to find Louisa standing over them ashy pale.
    “He’s not hurt, Louie. Oh, Louie, are they dead?”
    “The two of them,” said Louisa. “Dead as door-nails. I’ll say that for him, he was quick. In and out again before you could say Jack Robinson, and them teeth of his clicking!”
    Rachel shuddered, and got to her feet again. The brown coils lay inert and lifeless. Louisa said in a sharp whisper,
    “They’re dead. And it might have been you! Who put them there, Miss Rachel?”
    Rachel stood looking.
    “I don’t know.”
    “Someone that wished you dead, Miss Rachel—you can’t get from it. Who is it that would like to see